#let me cling to him and his giant ass hoodie

[chrisbangs]

🐺🫧

Hehe

Wyd

[asanionyx]

Medics Need a Little Lovin’

Ghost x (afab/gn) reader

Summary: You are an exhausted medic and Ghost wants to help you catch some Zs.

CW: unprotected sex, semi-public (private, in a public area), slight degradation, praise.

TW: pussy, hole, clit.

You haven’t gotten any sleep for a few days now. Just working none-stop. If you’re not patching up soldiers back to good health, you’re filling out copious amounts of paperwork. Even the little free time you get, it’s always spent awake and frustrated. Your mind betraying your body as always.

Simon Ghost Riley, is a frequent visitor, has come to get patched up again. It still baffles you how much his body has gone through yet it’s still functioning almost perfectly. The amount he’s endured would drive any person mad.

Thankfully he’s not too wounded just a few slits on the biceps. You grab your supplies and proceed to do your job. “You look tired.” He says, concern laced in his words.

“Heh, yeah haven’t slept in a bit. Nothing to worry about.” You say avoiding eye contact.

“I can help with that.” You laugh it off not sure what he is implying by his statement. “I’m serious. A good fuck might help you sleep.” You swiftly look up at him, shocked at the sudden vulgar implication. You look in his eyes hoping it is just his way of joking around.

But no, he seems dead serious about this. “I-I don’t know…” You can’t believe you’re even contemplating this. It should be completely out of the question. He’s not just your superior but he’s also your PATIENT. No matter how you like at it, it’s completely inappropriate.

You finish patching him up and stand, “If you’re not interested, I won’t force you but I’d love to pleasure you.” He says as he puts his hoodie back on. You bite your lip as you look away. Fuck, you really do want this. “Ok.” You sigh succumbing to your desires. His face lights up. He quickly flips you onto the bed, face facing the pillow below you.

He unbuttons your pants and removes them enough to expose you voluptuous ass and soaking wet pussy. He slowly inserts two of his fingers and it’s already too much for you. You’re so out of practice and his fingers are so big. He starts moving in and out of you, pace already quick and deep.

“If someone walks in, we’re fuuuuuuccckked.” You manage to spit out as he fucks you with his fat fingers.

“Well, we better be careful then.” Ghost replies. He removes his fingers and you look behind you to see him. He pulls out his cock. It’s huge, pre-cum already dripping from the tip.

You moan as he slides his cock into your hole. The stretch slightly painful as he goes deeper into you. He stays in place to let you adjust. “Fuck you’re giant.” You gasp, feeling so full as you try to take a deep breath.

You start moaning uncontrollably as he starts moving in and out of you. “You moan like a slag, Love.” He says smirking as he fucks into you deep. The headboard slamming into the wall rhythmically as you moan loudly.

“Fuuuuck Simon…!” you tense as you start feeling your orgasm nearing.

“As much as I love your moans, Love, we don’t want someone to hear you now, do we?” You try to suppress your moans but you realize it’s way too difficult. You bite the pillow to muffle them.

“Simon I’m gonna- gonna cum!” You warn as you get close to the edge.

“Already?” He asks.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m s-sorryyy.” He starts rubbing you clit and you gasp at the touch, bucking you hips closer towards the bed.

“Cum for me then, Sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. “Yeah that’s it cum all over my cock.” You start to clinch around him and he groans.

You orgasm as Simon’s name flows out of your mouth, clinging to the pillow for stability. He pulls out, cock still hard, and lets you catch your breath.

“Wait, Si, you didn’t cum.” You slightly turn to look at him. He pulls your pants back up and zips it closed.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“At least let me suck you off.”

“This was all about you, now get some rest.” He kisses your forehead and covers you with a blanket.

Once your head lays on the pillow, exhaustion washes over you and you submit into sleep.

END

[anxious-ace]

Marble Hornets, probably not including the graphic noval characters besides Skully and Jessica (+ ocs and Toby) headcannons:

Tim (can you tell he's my favorite?):

Tim is a trans, demisexual and gay man

He/him pronouns or Brian will kill you

34 years old

Brian and Tim moved to New York after entry 87 (yes Brian survived)

They're a married couple you can't change my mind

They've been married since 2016, so 5 years at this point

Tim has a little sister named Adelyn

He and Brian adopted Toby and they live in a separate little area together (you can blame/thank @master-of-cringe)

Separation anxiety, insomnia, depression, anxiety, D.I.D, P.T.S.D and Schizophrenia

Someone give him a hug

He and Brian have a 3 year old daughter (Kai)

He doesn't really talk about his past alot (understandable)

Has a severe fear of raccoons (Rakounphobia)

Is actually tough as shit

He will knock you the fuck out if mad enough

Is actually allergic to cheese cake (if anyone still makes the cheese cake joke I will bust your kneecaps and eat your appendix)

Has had appendicitis in his past

Doesn't really talk to his dad

Empathizes with Toby and Kate alot

You can usually find him and Brian just cuddling on the couch

Went back and helped Brian after entry 83

Got the 2 of them a service dog

(SHE'S AN AMERICAN BEAUTY, I'M AN AMERICAN PSYCHO!!!)

American-German with an immigrant mother

Almost always wearing Brian's jacket

Helen's (bloody painter) older cousin

Sleep walks

Sleep talks

Usually wakes up in the middle of the night because of nightmares or flashbacks

Kate is like his daughter

He and Brian actually adopted Toby recently

Chewing tobacco fiend

Gave up cigarettes because of Toby, Kai, Kate and Kenny

Has a journal of suicide attempts

Wakes up later than Brian when he actually gets sleep

Will just cling to Brian in public spaces

Did a bit of theater in highschool

He did lights while Brian was on stage

Met Alex and everyone else in highschool, only really talked to them in college

Probably the worse sleep schedule out of everyone

Does speak fluent German but rarely uses it except when mad

(Brian finds it hot)

Ultimate quiet kid

Will kick your teeth in if you hurt his family

His leg hasn't healed properly

Still has a bit of a limp because of what Alex did to his leg

That poor leg is being tortured

Brian:

Cis gay man

34 years old

He/him

Moved to New York with Tim

Got Tim an emotional support cat

The social one in the relationship

Will almost always be seen calming Tim down

Bought an extra hoodie for Tim to wear without having to steal his

Has a brother named Joel and a sister named Edith

Buys Kai clothes from both sections of the store and let's her choose what she feels like wearing

Will throw hands if you even look at his family wrong

Usually the one who carries Kai around

Had to be in a wheelchair for a bit

Got into mother mother and lemon demon because of Kenny and Kate

Parkour icon

The fluffiest hair

Actually likes pineapple on pizza

French/Native boi

Wakes up early and cooks for everyone

Excellent cook

Will just start flirting with Tim at anytime and anywhere

Has alot of medical knowledge (field medic)

Taught Tim French as a thank you for teaching him German

Being the oldest brother means he's responsible but still a giant goof

Will pick on you in a light hearted way

Massages Tim's leg in exchange for him massaging his back

Will stay up with Tim if he needs it

THE BEST HUSBAND AND FATHER!!!

Adelyn is his best friend, fight me

Excellent fighter

Will throw hands for his friends

Jay:

Bisexual disaster

Shy bitch

Dating Seth

Finnish

Older sister named Lumi

32 years old

Met Alex during a high school production of little shop of horrors

He was on set design

Perpetually tired

Still eats ramen alot

Has gotten his ass kicked by Brian

What is affection?

Mans is basically skin and bone

JUST EAT SOMETHING!

Did actually write scripts for other projects

There are kept in a box somewhere

He and Alex Koval vibe alot

Unironicaly likes Abba

His parents are Finnish immigrants

Learned English from his aunt

Stim toys galore

Adhd

Would collect the weirdest shit if he could

Gets cold easily

Jessica:

Lesbian trans queen

34 years old

She/her or she'll kill you

Best delivery person

She and Tim will just spend hours talking about their experiences being trans

Feels like she owes him for saving her from Alex

Aunt figure to Kai

Amy, Sarah and her are in a polyamorous relationship

Will alert Brian if Tim's panicking

Has been seen comforting him when Brian was visiting his family

Best baby sitter

Swiss

Mom friend

Always brings extra food, water, meds, clothes etc.

Amy:

pansexual demi-girl

33 years old

She/they

Dumped Alex for Jessica

Did costume design in highschool

One of the most adventurous bitches in the group

Australian

Loves baking

She and Brian have a deal where he cooks breakfast, lunch and dinner and she makes dessert

Archnophobic

Allergic to bananas

Sarah:

Lesbian disaster

33 years old

Was skeptical about the polyamorous relationship but now she absolutely loves it

She wasn't sure Amy was ok with it

Boy was she wrong

Did actually date Seth before figuring out she was a Lesbian

Did violin, piano, flute and drama in highschool

Major multi-tasker

She's really good at it though

Adelyn will tell her embarrassing things about Tim from child hood

Belgian sweetheart

Alex:

The only straight person

33 years old

Ran a production of multiple musicals in highschool

Major anger issues (basically cannon)

Lord help Seth's dog

(He bit him during filming that's why he's mad at Seth)

Not allowed near the kitchen

Has been trying to write another script

Major music fan

Austrian

Very confrontational

Wasn't even surprised Amy dumped him

Has tried to kill Tim multiple times

Got his ass kicked by Brian thankfully

Seth:

Shy asexual grayromantic man

32, the baby of the group

Questioning gender

"He/they is fine"

Loves his dog Tucker

Best uncle figure

Has dozens of photos and videos from trips

Did cinematography in highschool, still doing it today

Found Tucker at a bus stop and said, "poor guy, mine now."

Also makes music

"And dolly zoom time."

Met Jay freshman year in highschool and Brian basically said, "if they don't kiss by the time we're in college there is something wrong with them."

They ended up together by prom

Shy Dutch man

Toby:

17 years old

Adopted by Tim and Brian recently

Cis guy

Asexual

Chaotic but sweet

Best older step-brother to Kai

Sneaks her candy from time to time

Because of his tics, he will just start screaming

Stuff goes flying out of his hands usually

Has seen Tim and Brian cuddling

Vibes with Kenny and Kate

Pyrophobic (too much trauma from the near death experience)

Kai:

4 years old

Doesn't know much about gender identity and sexuality

Will cling to her dads

Chews on clothes

Brian and Tim have bought her stim toys

Autistic

Calls Kate "sissie"

Tim physically had her

Holds a stuffed rabbit named Cyrille

Hangs out with Abby (Kate's youngest cousin), Kate, Tim, Brian and Toby alot

Sees Toby as her brother

Is usually seen being held by Brian

Adelyn:

Asexual lesbian

33 years old

Will tease the shit out of Tim about his relationship with Brian

Badass mechanic and archer

Has only fought Tim once

They were raised by a survivalist who was raised by a war veteran

Mom is a sweetheart

Will bully you but will make you food and give you a place to stay

If you mock or misgender her brother, she'll fucking kill you

Tim bought her a switch blade in highschool

Has a scar on her back from homophobes

Almost killed Alex a few times

Sectoral Heterochromia (blue and green)

Joel:

Pansexual

Non-binary

The youngest sibling at 17

Parkour master

Almost as sassy as Tim

Has a scar from a fire

Lord get this kid some sleep

Wants go into film like their brother

Has stolen money from their siblings

Edith:

23 years old

Bisexual

Will slap her siblings around

Going into the medical field

Tired of Alex's shit

She would drop kick him if she could

(She has)

Brian taught her some medical stuff as well as her parents

Saved and patched up Joel after the fire

Lumi:

35

Asexual biromantic

She/her

Way smarter than Jay

In the medical field

Basically raised Jay

Lord help her sleep schedule

Brim time bitches:

Met freshman year of highschool

Started dating in 2008

Got married on Halloween in 2016

Moved to New York the same year

Had Kai in 2018

Third kid will be born in August

Wedding anniversary is on Halloween

So many couple costumes

Double dates with Amy, Sarah and Jessica

Brian will just flirt with Tim (bonus points if it's in French)

They have a cat named Roco (Calico, emotional support cat) and a dog named Cecilia (golden retriever, service dog)

Masky:

Tim's alter

Actual name is Leon

Gender-less bastard

They/them

Hoodie is their husband just as Brian is Tim's

Has agreed to not hurt the teens (Toby, Kate, Kenny, Jeff, Liu, Natalie/Clockwork, etc.)

Contrary to popular belief, they are capable of caring for others, just not most of the time

Is not a mindless slave

Bitch will kill slender if they can, so will everyone else

A bit of a stubborn neat freak

Lord help Tim and his almost non-existent sleep schedule

This bitch will just keep him up by repeatedly saying everything was his fault

Does actually care for Kai, they just don't show it as much as Tim does (Tim's her dad, of course he cares)

Hoodie/Tyler just sends them the weirdest messages

Hoodie:

Actual name is Tyler

you probably guessed that he's Brian's alter, you're right

Doesn't use labels for sexuality or gender

Uses he/him pronouns though

Leon's/Masky's husband

Is kinda mad at Tim for entry 83

Has agreed not to kill him for Brian's sake

Lord help Brian

Stubborn like Leon

Skully:

Feral

Jay's alter

Actual name is Eino

(Remember Jay's Finnish)

Uses the same pronouns as Jay

Same with sexuality and gender

(It's mostly because I can't think of anything)

More annoying than scary

Kinda scares Jay but mostly annoys everyone else (poor Jessica)

Leaves dead animals at Jessica's door for some fucking reason

Is at fault for the bone yard near the lake in the woods, so are Ryland and Jude (Kate and Kenny's alters respectively)

I feel like he acts like he's on drugs without actually being on drugs, you know?

Like either crackhead energy or just really caffeinated (same with Jay sometimes)

Christian:

13 years old

Demi-boy

He/they

Aroace

Part American-German from Tim and part French-Native (something) from Brian

(Same for Kai)

Got his dirty blonde hair from his shitty grandad

Lives with Toby, Kate, Kenny, Brian, Tim, Roco, Cecile and Kai

The first second gen proxy (I know Tim and Brian aren't considered proxies, I just like the crossover au)

He's still going through recruitment though

Kate sent him an email with all of the entries of "Marble Hornets" for him to watch

(That's how he knows about his dad's pasts and their current situation as proxies)

Got lost in the woods one day and Slenderman took him in without knowing he was Tim and Brian's son

Would be the youngest proxy if it weren't for Tim and Brian intervention

(That makes Kate the youngest, Gierison not Hayes)

Will steal shit just to piss people off

[dreamescapeswriting]

SKZ Reaction | Protective Because Of Sasaengs

Chan:

It was the usual crowd of people that followed the boys around but something just felt off today, Chan was holding on your hand tightly while his laptop was in his carry on in the other. He was always the protective one in the relationship but lately, with the newest comeback things had gotten a little crazier, fans were starting to act insane and more Sasaengs were starting to crawl out of the woodwork.

"Chan," You whispered as he tightened his grip on your hand, the place was overly crowded and you could see that the other boys were starting to worry about it as well.

"I know," He whispered back to you making sure to hold you as close as he could get you. He didn't want anything to happen to you while he was responsible for you and he also didn't want someone to grab onto you. While he was busy focusing on you he'd neglected to cling tightly enough onto the case he was carrying his laptop in and someone snatched it.

"Babe!" Chan yelled trying to stop you running after them, his arms grasped you tightly to stop you rushing away so that the security guards could do their jobs. Your breathing was heavy as you got angrier at the thought of someone coming that close to Chan like that, they could have grabbed him or one of the boys, seriously hurt them.

"Hey, look at me. Look." Chan pulled you behind the barriers were fans were being held off from and he forced you to look into his eyes.

"I'm okay, look." You stared up into his eyes as he cupped your cheeks, though his face was covered by the mask he was wearing you could tell he was doing his best to keep a smile on his face and keep you calm throughout all of this.

"We're all okay," You stared into his eyes trying to search for any sign that he wasn't but you could read him like a book, his laptop was returned instantly and you both began walking towards the terminal you needed.

Minho:

Your day had been amazing, not a single person had noticed that you and Minho had taken the day off to go shopping and doing basic tourist things together. It felt like a regular date with him rather than having to sprint away from destinations hand in hand trying to avoid crazy fans who stalked him.

"We should do it again," You said softly as you sat in the back of Soul Cup cafe waiting for your drinks, the date was slowly coming to an end and you were going to have one more drink before you left him.

"I think I have another day off next week, I'll ask Chan when I get back to the dorms." He sat down in front of you so he was facing away from the entrance so no one would notice him if they happened to come into the cafe.

"Yeah that sounds-" You stopped yourself talking when the bell above the door began to chime and crowds of people begin to walk in and began looking around, you immediately knew one of them. You'd spotted her around all day but thought it would just be a coincidence but now it was positive to you that she was a Sasaeng.

"Minho..." You whispered looking at him as she spotted you in the corner together,

"We need to leave, can you get out any other way?" He nodded his head explaining the back exit for employees and you nodded at him.

"Go, go and I'll figure out how to take care of these-" You were pulled out of your seat by him as he rushed you both towards the back exit. He wasn't about to let you try and stop Sasaengs when some security guards could barely do that,

"Just run and don't look back." He chuckled holding onto your hand tightly and headed in the direction of a car park where he could lose them all.

Changbin:

You hated when the crowds picked up whenever you were out with the guys, the last time it got bad like this your bag was stolen because they thought it would have something inside of it but luckily Changbin had thought ahead and told you to put your things in his pockets. This time however someone had just made off with your phone and Changbin was left trying to get a security guard to find it.

"It has everything on their Changbin, your number, the boys, everything." You panicked looking around, you were about ready to kick ass for someone coming that close to you and Changbin when they weren't supposed to. People had been grabbing onto the guys all morning and trying to pull them closer but luckily security had been doing a decent job up until now.

"What if they get your number!?" You panicked looking back at him, his hands cupped your face forcing you to look at him instead of around at the crowds of people.

"Look at me, if they have my number I can change it. That's changeable." He promised you, you knew how much Sasaengs terrified him as well, you'd seen it when one of them had followed him and Jeongin home one night.

"I just can't stand the thought of someone-" You were cut off when your phone was being held up in front of your face, a girl - that couldn't have been any older than 15 was holding it up for you.

"We saw a Sasaeng running off with it so we chased after her," You turned to see three girls all aged around the same age and you smiled thanking them as you took your phone back from them.

"I owe you guys one," You yelled as you began moving with Changbin and the boys again.

Hyunjin:

People had been crowding around the JYP building for hours, you should have expected it since one of the Sasaengs that constantly followed Hyunjin had tweeted out where he was and who he was with - you. STAY had been positive about the relationship finally being out in the open since JYP was hardly one to allow their Idol's to date, they were happy to see Hyunjin was happy with you. However, Sasaengs hadn't taken it great and were using their platforms to tweet out where you both were at every minute of every day.

"We have to get home, the car is outside alright?" You said to Hyunjin, you were ready to protect him through everything and if that meant standing on one side of him while a guard took the other you were willing to do that.

"Hold my hand alright?" You knew how nervous he got around things like this so you wanted to make sure he was going to be okay with everything happening,

"Lets go." You whispered moving in time with the giant guard, as soon as you stepped outside screaming started, begging for pictures and flashing lights. You weren't used to any of it at all but you kept your head down trying to head towards the car when a cup of freezing liquid splashed across your top.

"Car now." Hyunjin ordered pushing you faster and away from the Sasaeng that had thrown the cold drink over you, a couple of them started yelling about how it was your fault they weren't allowed to have photos when it had been the policy that he wasn't allowed to stop at all.

"You alright?" You asked as soon as the door shut and he shook his head at you,

"I'm supposed to be the one asking you that not the other way around." He sighed, searching through his bag for a shirt that you could change into.

Jisung:

Jisung span you around under his arm before pulling you back towards him and smiling down at you, even though the mask covered his face you could still sense how big his smile was.

"You alright? You've been weird all night." By all night he meant the last couple of hours, you'd snuck out of the dorms together at 3 in the morning to go to a local 24-hour store and get ice cream. It was one of the best times to get out because no one would suspect it, no one could guess that you'd been wandering around the streets together. He was in his usual disguise though - hoodie, baseball cap and a giant mask to cover his face.

"I just feel like we're being followed, ever since we left the store." You whispered looking around for any sign that it was true, it wasn't uncommon for Sasaeng's to follow Jisung around but since it had come out that you were together as a couple they'd began following you as well.

"We're alone-" He stopped midsentence when he heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter, that was all it took. You took his hand in yours and began walking in the opposite direction of the dorms, you weren't about to get him and the boys caught up in all of this. You didn't want to have their dorms address spread all over the internet, so you took Jisung through alleyways and back streets to get out of the way of the Sasaeng, you'd take these routes a lot over the last year of dating Jisung, you knew what you were doing.

Felix:

You knew flying with the boys was never easy but you would have thought it would calm down once you were on the plane but it hadn't. Some Sasaeng's had managed to get tickets onto the same flight as you, Felix and Chan. You were heading to Australia for part of their time off but people had managed to find out your flight times despite it being as early in the morning as possible and booked under false names they'd found you.

"They're right in front of us babe." You wanted to do something to protect both Felix and Chan but they didn't seem that phased by it, they had been in the game a lot longer than you had but it didn't stop you worrying about Felix.

"I know but I need to use the restroom, I can't hold it for a 10 hour long flight." You sighed watching as he got up from the chair and made his way down, the moment the fan saw him she got up from her seat. You went to stand up when Chan laid his hand on yours and shook his head, instantly a flight attendant and a security guard was escorting the ''fan'' back to her seat and making sure that Felix was on his own the entire time. They really would stop at nothing to be alone with the boys and it scared the hell out of you,

"See, told you it was fine," Felix smirked at you sitting down next to you again and laying his head on your shoulder. They were probably going to sleep through the whole flight but you couldn't. You felt like you were going to stay awake the entire time just to keep an eye on both of the boys.

Seungmin:

There was a huge crowd gathering around outside the small game shop that you and Seungmin had walked into, you were hunting for a new game for your switch and Seungmin decided to tag along with you  - it seemed like no problem at first but then people started to recognise him and tweet out about where he was.

"Y/n?" You looked up at the guard that was manning the door of the shop making sure that no one else had access into the building,

"Hmm?" He pointed at one of the girls standing at the door, she was wearing one of the shortest dresses you'd ever seen and waved at you.

"Claims she knows you?" You shook your head, you'd never seen her before in your life but Seungmin had,

"She's one of them," Was all he said to the guard before moving you away from the door.

"Sasaeng? They're everywhere." You whispered wrapping your arm around Seungmins waist and moving further into the store not wanting to be stared at by anyone that was looking through the window. They'd been getting creative lately, instead of just following the boys around they'd started to follow you hoping that you would lead them back to your apartment or the dorms but you never did. You took shortcuts to lose them but if you couldn't find a way to lose them you wouldn't go home, you'd go somewhere more public where plenty of people could see you and you could lose them in the crowds. All you wanted to do was protect Seungmin from them but some of them were insane.

I.N:

You and Jeongin had lost the guard when you were fighting to get out of the huge crowd that had been to swarm around you both. You'd gone on a day trip to a small mall thinking it would be easy enough not to be spotted but all it took was one fangirl seeing you and it was all over the internet, where you were, what he was wearing so they could easily find you.

"I think we lost them." You breathed heavily bending over on your knees to try and catch your breath, Jeongin held onto your hand tightly trying to keep hold of you in case they suddenly found you again when you heard a camera. You turned to see one of the girls you'd seen a million times, she was always around no matter what, she'd followed you both onto a plane once.

"Jeongin, behind me." You whispered you weren't sure what you were going to do but him being behind you felt like one of the best ideas for now.

"Y/n, you can't-" Her hand reached out to touch him as she started yelling about how much she loved him so you pushed him back away from her before pulling him into a run and began sprinting through the mall together.

"Can you remember the way back to the car?" You asked while running up a set of stairs and towards the in building car park, no one had followed you out yet which was a good sign.

"Yeah, fourth floor." You got into one of the elevators instead and hit the fourth-floor button when you noticed all of them lighting up to say someone was pushing it,

"Out and run," You told him not to look back until he got to the car and that you would just meet him up there.

"All clear?" He asked as you got into the car panting heavily,

"Took them to the top floor and said that you were in the farthest car away, then I ran down the stairs and they didn't follow me." He sighed bringing you into a hug as you waited for the guard to figure out where you'd gone.

Tagline: 

@snowy-meowl​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @yunhoesss​

[gothighunicorntolerance]

At last, my Big Bang fic!

When Roman and his friends go hiking, they expect to see some birds, some lizards, maybe a deer if they were lucky- not a hidden cave with a sleeping person inside, unable to be woken up by anyone. His friends decide to let the sleeping person stay put, but there’s some feeling Roman just can’t shake off. Red chapter one below, and the full fic on AO3, accompanied by amazing art by @littlebigmouse

taglist: @theimprobabledreamersworld @edupunkn00b @ts-storytime

AO3 link

art post

The tranquility of the forest was quickly interrupted by the banter of several people standing by a parked car, their faces illuminated by the pink-tinted full moon low on the horizon.

“Come at me, Mothman! I have a very juicy ass you would LOVE!”

“Remus, you IDIOT. Mothman lives in West Virginia!”

“Well what about the skunk ape, Virgil? Don't you want to see the Skunk Ape? SKUNK APE! SKUNK APE!” He chanted, his voice echoing in the parking lot.

“Remus, would you shut up?!” Roman shoved his brother. “We are actually going to try and find wildlife like deer and stuff, and that’s not going to happen if you keep shouting for cryptids to fuck you.”

The rest of the group sighed collectively at the antics of the twins, though Roman didn’t pay much attention to his friends’ groaning.

“Anyways,” Roman said louder than necessary. “Logan, you have the compass, right?”

“Of course. I also brought several yards of paracord, just in case. And also cereal bars, batteries, and water.”

“Thank you for being the responsible one,” Roman laughed. “Virgil, it’s your job to make sure that the entire state of Florida doesn’t find out that my brother is a monster fucker.”

Virgil groaned. “You know that’s going to be impossible.”

“Just punch him when you think he’s about to say something stupid.”

“Oh, like this?” Virgil smacked Remus in the arm.

“Ow!” Remus groaned.

“Well, I thought you were about to say something stupid.”

“Can we please just get on with our hiking-adventure-whatever you’re calling it?” Janus spoke up.

“Please.” Logan agreed.

“O-KAY! Into the woods!” Roman sang.

The five hikers walked down the small dirt path, the mud from last night’s storm splashing their ankles. The colors of the sunset were barely visible through the branches of the trees, which cast long shadows onto the ground and Roman still quietly humming all parts of the song by himself.

As Roman’s song ended, trailing off into the instrumental bits, Remus had finally shut up about various cryptids, and the only sounds were the squelching of mud sticking to their shoes and the occasional snap of a stick or crunch of a fallen leaf underfoot.

The May nights were cool and humid, so most days like this, Roman wore cheaper jeans and a hoodie that he was willing to throw away if it got too dirty or torn.

About half an hour into their adventure-hike, Logan silently passed around flashlights to everyone, which Roman gladly accepted. It had gotten dark quickly, to the point where Roman had been barely able to see his feet.

Suddenly, Virgil, who was in front, stopped.

“Deer,” he whispered, aiming his flashlight into the trees.

Roman followed the flashlight beam onto a huge buck, its pelt speckled with mud and antlers extending far beyond its ears.

“The inside spread is over twelve inches,” Logan whispered.

“That’s big, right?” Janus asked.

“Yes, it is. The largest recorded spread in the state of Florida was nineteen and a half inches.”

Roman knew that Remus was about to open his mouth and say something stupid, and apparently, so did Virgil, because Remus groaned again after he was hit in the shoulder, the rest of the group snickering.

The deer eventually ran away, and the group continued on until the dirt path ended.

“Hey, look at this!” Virgil waved the group over to where he was standing, shining his flashlight into a large opening in the side of a rockface.

Roman jogged over and looked into the cave- as far as the flashlight illuminated, he could see moss and other plants clinging to wet stone.

“I haven’t seen this before- I think I’d remember,” Janus commented.

“It must have been uncovered by erosion from the storm last night,” Logan added in.

“Let’s go in!” Roman and Remus said at the same time, grinning at each other. They might not agree on much, but when it came to deciding whether or not to explore a creepy-looking cave, the answer was always going to be yes.

“Don’t you think we should- never mind,” Virgil sighed as the twins started swinging their flashlights across the wet ground of the cave.

“Look at this!” Remus whisper-shouted to Roman, pointing out some kind of slime growing on a rock.

“That is disgusting, put it down or I’m not letting you in the car,” Roman said as Remus began to poke the slime.

Remus stuck his tongue out at his brother but reluctantly stopped poking the unfamiliar growth. Roman turned around to see that the rest of the group had followed them in.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Virgil asked worriedly. “I mean, this cave wasn’t here before, and we might be the first living things to step in here in maybe hundreds of years.”

“And this is how people find monster boyf- OW!” Virgil once again took it upon himself to hit Remus in the arm to stop him from talking about various cryptids in a non-child-friendly manner.

“Caves such as this one are particularly interesting because you never know what you might find- oh, look!” Logan pointed to another small opening at the back of the cave.

“I’m going to crawl through!” Roman declared after the group had spent a minute or so deciding what to do.

Roman got on his hands and knees and started to wedge himself through the opening, quite aware that he would likely have to put his clothes through more than one wash cycle to get the stains out. He bit down on the flashlight, illuminating what was in front of him, but only barely.

When there was finally room for Roman to stand, he turned and called through the opening, “I’m fine! You can come through, it’s safe!”

The second part of the cave was much wider than the first part, and Roman was able to stand without hunching over.

Swinging his flashlight across the ground, Roman suddenly gasped.

There was a man laying on the ground, hands folded across his chest, dressed in- were those robes?

“Guys…? You might want to see this…” Roman called out again, his voice shaking.

“Ro? Are you okay- HOLY SHIT!” Janus crawled through, his eyes wide with disbelief and perhaps a little fear.

Remus and Virgil came through next, Remus uncharacteristically silent, his mouth open in an ‘o.’

Logan was the last to crawl through, and he, like everyone else, stood silent, looking at the figure laying in the center of the cave, arms crossed over their chest and wings spread out- Roman rubbed his eyes. This couldn’t be real- he couldn’t have found some guy in a cave that hadn’t been touched in years!

Maybe they had gotten drunk or something and put on a very realistic-looking cosplay and then ran through the woods? Remus had done odder things, so it couldn’t be completely ruled out.

Janus slowly walked up to the figure, stepping over the silken blue robes and putting his hand on their neck, careful not to knock off the wire framed glasses.

“There’s a pulse, but it’s really faint.” Janus announced to the group. “They’re definitely not dead.” The hikers stepped closer to the sleeping person, forming a circle around them but careful to not touch the giant gray bird wings sprouting from their back. Roman noticed a strand of curly brown hair had fallen into their eyes, and resisted the urge to reach out and tuck the strand of hair behind their ear.

After a moment of silence, Roman spoke up. “Should we… try to wake them up? I mean, what else should we do?”

Roman was careful not to touch the sleeping person. Roman wouldn’t admit it, but he was afraid there would be some kind of horror movie scene- where as soon as he got close enough, they would sit up and try to murder him. Or something like that.

Logan crouched and tapped his phone, and the default alarm sound echoed through the cave. The person didn’t stir.

Virgil stepped up next, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle and pouring the contents onto their face. “Seriously? Nothing?” Virgil muttered.

“Let me try,” Janus said, grabbing the person’s shoulder and shaking them.

“Alright,” Remus said, stepping forward and rolling up his sleeve. He looked up at Roman, grinning, before bringing his arm down to the person’s face and slapping them on the cheek. Roman cringed at the echo it created, but there was still no reaction from them.

“How the fuck did that not work?” Remus stared at the still-sleeping person.

“Heavy sleeper?” Roman suggested.

“Coma?”

“Dead?”

“Are we about to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved?”

“Underlying medical condition?”

“Alright, it’s your turn, Prince Charming. Go do a true love’s kiss on the guy. You never know,” Remus laughed.

“No way! I’m not touching that guy with my finger, let alone my mouth!” Roman protested as Remus tried to drag him over.

Another beat of silence passed before Virgil spoke up. “I think we should leave. This dude’s probably not okay, and I don’t want to have to call the police or paramedics. I don’t want to get involved in anything, whether this guy is just stoned or in a coma or whatever.”

“Yeah.” Roman said after a minute of consideration. “You’re right. I don’t want to get involved. We should just- I dunno, leave the guy here? Maybe check later to see if they’re okay? I mean, they’re not dead.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and soon crawled back out the way they came. Roman exited last, and couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at the sleeping figure. A small part of him wanted to stay behind, try and wake them up.

But Roman ignored that feeling and left the cave with the rest of his group.

Once the group srood back on the path, all a little shaken or confused from what they had just seen, Roman said, “let’s all just go back home. If we want to, we’ll come back next week or whenever to make sure the guy’s either okay or gone, but for now just leave it alone.”

Roman said the last part for himself, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing something. He shook his head and followed Logan and Janus, who had already started walking back to the parking lot through the wet grass and still-sticky mud. Even in the dim light, Roman could tell the two of them were holding hands. Roman opened his mouth to tease the two of them but thought better of it. They had all just seen something pretty weird in that cave (Roman was still trying to decide what he really saw), and Logan and Janus hadn’t announced that they were together, probably for the exact reason that Roman would tease them.

Oh well, there would be plenty of moments for teasing later. For now, Roman just focused on dragging his feet along the muddy path back to the car, though he kept glancing over his shoulder. He told himself that it was to keep an eye on Remus and Virgil and make sure they were still behind him, but the nagging feeling that he had forgotten something still lingered.

[leafsbabe]

love you - Nolan Patrick and Travis Konecny

You were in the middle of setting up your sleeping bags when Nolan’s laugh made its way into your ear. While he prefered to keep up a stoic front for the media you’ve come to be spoiled by it in private during the last few months. Suddenly Travis’ laugh joined Nolan’s and you couldn’t help but smile more. Curious as to what made them laugh so hard you stuck your head out of the big tent you had brought along to look at your two boys. Nolan was sitting on his butt behind one of the logs surrounding the fireplace. He was curled up, laughing full force, his cheeks tinted a dark red and an expression full of joy.

Travis on the other hand was laying close to the water, his cargo shorts tangled around his legs and his face full off mud, laughing so hard tears left tracks through it. The entire scene was too funny for you to not join in on their laughter. Once the three of you calmed down they explained the situation to you. Nols wanted to start a fire for dinner whereas Teeks thought that going skinny dipping would be a great afternoon activity. Only he slipped still half clothed and fell face first into mud which caused Nolan to laugh so hard he fell over the log on the ground.

Since Travis had to take a dip to clean up anyway you decided that skinny dipping sounded like a nice thing to do, both to cool down from the summer heat and tease your boys a little. Without any hesitation you pulled your dress over your head, grinning to yourself when their looks automatically went to your nearly naked body.

“Last one in the water has to cook dinner tonight!” You laughed as you pulled your underwear down and took of into the lake.

Travis and Nolan where both yelling behind you but instead of listening to their bickering you simple dipped your head under water, drowning out the noise. When you ran out of breath you come up again, wet hair clinging to your body, seeing TK and Nolan watching you closely. Their eyes ran up and down your partially hidden figure.

it was Travis that broke the silence. “Nolan was last.” He said, eyes still fixated on where your breast breaching the surface.

“Okay so Nolan has to cook.” You smiled at them before splashing them directly in the face.

Of course they retaliated and before you knew it you had a full on water fight until two strong arms wrapped around your body and pulled you against a warm hard body. Grinning you spun around, planting a big fat smooch on whichever man had managed to grab you. From the kiss alone you immediately knew it was Nolan. One of his hands went up to your jaw, moving your chin up a bit so he could deepen the kiss while his other arm pulled you tighter against him. You got lost in the feeling of him and the way he slowly moved his thigh between your legs, giving you something to grind against.

A cold swall of watered covered you both, causing you to pull away in a shriek. TK stood a few feet away, a smug little smile on his face. “I thought Patty was supposed to go make dinner?”

Sighing Nolan pulled away from you but not before he gave you one last kiss. On his way out of the lake he splashed the grinning Travis, who only began to smile harder.

“I’m sorry baby,” he said, sliding into the spot Nolan had vacated, “I know he got you all hot and then had to leave but I’m here to help,” It was kind of a dick move but both of them were hot as fuck so you didn’t hold a grudge. You let TK pull you close and run his hands over your body. The lake water was cool enough to make your nipples harden on your chest and his gaze immediately drops to them again. Whereas Nolan kept his hands on your waist to help you grind against him Travis lets his roam free. Just a gentle touch all over before He touches your core. His finger feels wonderfully warm against your clit before they wander towards your fold and in your head you’re screaming ‘do it’ only for him to move on with nothing more than a teasing touch.

His hands wandered down your thighs before he grabbed your ass and lifting you up up high for you to wrap your legs around his waist. The water made it easier for TK to hold you up, one arm below your butt and the other one reaching up to run his fingers along the outline of your now exposed breast. More of your upper body was outside of the water now and the slight wind caused goosebumps to form across your skin. You knew exactly why he had lifted you up.

The TK’s mouth on your cheat was overwhelming. He didn’t play around, just sucked one of your nipples into his mouth and engulfed the hard nub with warmth. His tongue toyed with it for a moment before Nolan’s voice rang around the campsite. “Dinner’s ready.”

Travis playfully lightly bit down on your nipple making you squeal in surprise before he moved to put you back down. “Way to ruin the moment, Patso.”

“Don’t pout asshole, you did the same.” Came the reply.

The two of you left the water to join Nolan for dinner. Still feeling very much in the mood you didn’t bother to change back into the clothes you wore before, instead choosing to steal one of the guys hoodies in the tent and your sleep shorts. Wrapping your wet hair in a towel you walked back out to find TK already sitting next to Nolan on the fireplace logs so you decided to plop down on the other side of him.

“What’s for dinner?” You asked. While you all did the shopping for your camping trip together there were still several options and the smell gave nothing away except that it was grilled over the fire.

Nolan handed you a plate already filled up. “Those weird sausages from that store TK likes and veggies. I made you some separately tho since i know you don’t like them.”

Knowing Nolan remembered made you feel warm inside. It was the small things in life.

“Oh and i got that soda from that one store hipster store you like, it’s in the cooler but i can get it for you if you want to.” You knew exactly what store he meant but you also knew that it was across Philly and would have spent ages driving there just for your favorite soda. He would never admit to it out loud but you knew Patty was the biggest softie.

“Thank you Nolan,” You gave him a sweet soft kiss before leaning into his side, “You’re the best.”

On the other side of Nolan Travis stood up abruptly before walking to the cooler and coming back with your fancy hipster soda and two beers for himself and Nols. “See i can be sweet too. Nolan just got his dumb service kink or whatever.” He grumpily gave each of you your bottles.

“Oh Teeks,” you mumbled before pulling him to sit on your other side, essentially sandwiching yourself in between them. “You’re the best too, you don’t need to be jealous. Nolan just likes taking care of us and it’s very sweet of him to do so but that doesn’t make him a better part of this relationship than you and me, okay? We’re all equal.” Putting your plate down you pulled him into a hug once your lap was free again. He snuggled in for a moment before you felt Patty’s ong arms wrap around the two of you. He gave TK a giant smacking kiss on the head before mumbling “love you, asshole” to which Travis mumbled “love you too, bitch” back.

You finished dinner in peace. It was awesome and the seasoning and marinade on everything just pulled the entire meal together. You and TK quickly took care of the dishes since Nolan cooked for you earlier before you went and sat back down on the log and just watched the fire for a bit more. During the last few days you had talked a lot. Sharing childhood memories about going camping with friends or family. Telling each other of a close encounter with wildlife or bragging the size of fishes they had caught. It was sweet to just sit back and share stories and laugh together.

Before long you all decided to go to bed a bit earlier today. While you had stayed up late the days before and watched the stars in the sky, the hike you had undertaken earlier that day tired all three of you out so you made sure the fire would die down soon and then retreated back to your tent.

Your boys went all out when they had planned your trip and thankfully were able to borrow a giant tent from a teammate so all three of you fit in it comfortably. Instead of sleeping bags you just had a nice mat at the bottom and then the big summer blanket from your bed in Philly. Travis was already under it half asleep when you came back from brushing your teeth while Nolan still up putting his stuff back in the bags in the corner. Careful to not disturb Teeks you slid under the blanket and waited for Nolan to lie down as well. His large body laid down next to you and you immediately attached yourself to his side, turning so your back was to Travis. He used this opportunity to spoon up behind you, grinding his crotch against your ass just for good measure. With a sigh you rested your head on Nolan chest and closed your eyes, smiling softly when you felt TK reach over you to hold Patty’s hand while the three of you slept.

You woke to Travis very softly grinding something definitely not so soft against you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you waited for a moment before you heard his even breathing, confirming what you already thought. It wasn’t the first time TK grinded on you in his sleep and it would definitely not be the last. It was kinda cute that he couldn’t hold back from finding you so desirable, even in his sleep, but it woke the fire from yesterday in you again and now you wanted more.

Nolan was still asleep as well but he’d be easier to wake up. You trailed your hand over his chest, gently running your nails across his skin. When his breathing changed and you knew he was awake despite his still closed eyes your hand wandered down, gently touching him over his sweats. “Hmmmm, somebody’s in a good mood.” He mumbled, causing you to giggle quietly.

“I’m not the only one.” You whispered back, both meaning Travis who was still busy rutting against your butt and Nolan who was half hard under your hand.

He looked past you to Travis and what he was doing and instantly knew what your plan was. Nolan shimmied his sweats down under his butt to give you better access before bending down and taking your mouth in a soft and filthy kiss. You were still just petting at him, lightly teasing so the fun wouldn’t be over before Teeks could join. By turning more of your body and not just your attention to Nolan you were pushing your butt into Travis and his thrusts anyway so a bit of wiggling and pressing back surely wouldn’t hurt. You mind was racing, occupied by swallowing Nolan’s moans and continuing to tease him, and Travis who was so hot against your back, and the sheer amount of neediness you felt. It was almost like heaven when you felt Travis move behind you. You were so occupied by the situation that you had missed TK waking up until you felt his hand that had rested on the dip of your waist slide down into your sleep shorts and to your core. The feeling of his fingers touching your folds made you gasp, allerting Nols to the now awake Travis. His hand found it’s way to your jar, tilting your head just right so that he could kiss you again while TK’s skilled fingers carefully avoided your clit and instead began to explore your pussy. His hips stopped moving with intent and instead his focus was turned towards you.One of his fingers entered you and you couldn’t help but sigh against Nolan’s mouth. You had been craving the feeling of something inside you for hours so even one of his talented fingers made you feel slightly overwhelmed. You hand on Nolan’s dick stopped but he didn’t see to care, instead running his hands over your arms and body, under the hoodie you stole from them and to your breasts. As Travis gave you a second finger Nolan started playing with them. Pinching your nipples and grabbing your boobs in his big hands. The idea of the two of them just playing with you was one of your favorite fantasies but you needed more.

“Please.” You gasped out, desperate for anything they were willing to give you. Your eyes were closed in an attempt to hold yourself together but you knew that they were silently communicating above your head.

Nols moved your face a bit so you could look at him. “Do you want to suck me off while Teeks fucks you, love?” His tone was so gentle and sweet and you knew that even after everything if you didn’t say yes now they’d both immediately stop. But you needed it.

“Please.” You begged him, desperate for it.

It was quick work getting rid of your shorts and arranging your bodies. At first you whimpered when Travis removed his fingers but seconds later they were replaced by his dick and you couldn’t help but loudly moan. Finally.

It wasn’t the hard fucking you were expecting but rather both men decided to take their time. Travis trust into you languidly, trying to savour every moment and every moment not spent moaning Nolan was telling you how good your lips felt wrapped around his dick and gently petting your hair or playing with your breasts. They took their time playing with you.

“Baby,” Nolan began, causing you to glance up at him, “I’m about to come, okay? You do whatever you want, swallow or let me finish on you, or whatever you want. Fuck, you’re hot!” Feeling challenged you knew exactly what you wanted. You took him even deeper, desperate to make him finish and show him just how sweet and hot you could be for him. He moaned loudly and seconds later you could feel him pulsing on your tongue. You quickly swallowed everything before pulling off, pressing on last little kiss to his tip.

“I love you.” He breathlessly mumbled as he fell back, all his energy completely spent on you.

Behind you Travis took this as his sign that it was your turn now and gently helped you move over until your head was gently resting on Nols thighs while he doubled his efforts. His thrust gained power and he became fast and it was obvious he was chasing his own high but you knew he’d never allow himself to come first, always putting your pleasure before his. Fingers found your clit again and were seeing sparks.

When you came too again Nolan was wearing pants again but Travis was still holding himself above you. Sometimes after sex he liked to stay inside of you for a bit and just feel where you are connected. He was pressing small little kisses all over your shoulder.

“You okay?” Nolan asked from beside you, running his hands through your hair again. You smiled up at him before a yawn interrupted.

“Yeah, but now i’m tired again. What time’s it? Do we have to get up already?” TK grumbled against your skin again and and that moment you really wanted to go back to napping with him.

Nolan checked his phone real quick before turning his attention back on you. “It’s still early love. You can go back to sleep for a bit while i go make breakfast, okay?” His smile was soft and sleepy and once again you were overcome with nothing but sweet pure love for him.

“Okay. Love you.” You smiled before pursing your lips at him in an exaggerated way, silently asking for a kiss.

“Love you too.” Nolan bend down to press one against your mouth before getting up and leave the tent.”

Travis was still laying on top of you but you knew napping would be nicer in a different position.”Told you he has a service kink.” He grumbled as he shifted from you and back to your side.

You let out a little sigh when the movement caused him to slide out of you, already missing the feeling of his warmth stretching you out. “Come on,” You said, rolling to your side so you were spooned to his front like you were last night. “Can you put it in again?” Travis complied wordlessly, entering you again and pulling you closer with his arms around your waist.

You just took a second to enjoy the moment, one beautiful boy preparing coffee for you and another beautiful boy beside you in bed. You never truly understood what you did to deserve being loved by both of them but you wouldn’t change it for anything in this world. “I love you.” You whispered into the tent, behind you Travis was already snoring softly.

[brandstifter-sys]

Pup

Word Count: 1922                     (Ao3)

Pairing: Dukexiety

Characters: Remus, Roman, Virgil

Rating: T

Warnings: food, innuendo

Remus gets turned into a dog and the only way to break the curse is true love’s kiss. So he’s ready to live as a pooch. Until he encounters Virgil and learns something new.

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

When she wasn't planning for their next LARP session, or trying to defeat the prince in said sessions, the Dragon Witch was actually quite a lovely lady. She kept the imagination running smoothly for the twins when Thomas needed them. She was fun, and usually up for brainstorming sessions. But it wasn't all that rare that the brothers pissed her off, usually Remus. That's why he was in this predicament. 

There was something about being tiny that really unsettled the unsettling duke. But Remus couldn't let a little discomfort stop him from getting to the kitchen! He trotted through the common area, his fluffy tail bouncing over his haunches, hoping that no one else was around to see him at this hour.

The kitchen was in his sights but his blood ran cold when he smelled someone in there with turkey cold cuts. He sneezed and went for it, no one would know it was really him so he could handle some baby talk if it meant he could steal a sandwich. 

"What the—" Virgil said as the telltale sound of claws tapping on the floor caught his attention. He turned around from the counter and his jaw dropped. 

"He needs to take better care of his pets," he sighed and squatted, holding out his hand. Remus stepped forward and sniffed his hand, just to keep up the act. 

"How'd you get out, little guy? Did Princey forget to close his door?" Virgil asked in a calm voice. Remus couldn't help but growl. Just because he was a small white puffball did not mean he was Roman's! He made tiny dogs all the time, and not just the three-headed ones! 

"Easy, Pup. Are you with Remus?" Virgil asked and leaned back just a bit. Remus wagged his tail and yipped moving so he could paw at the emo's leg. He wanted food! 

Virgil smirked and scooped him up with one hand, cradling him to his chest. Remus wagged his tail and licked his cheek as he got up. 

"Alright, alright," Virge giggled, "You're as bad as the duke! And just for that–" he turned and grabbed a few pieces of lunch meat from the counter, "–you can have four pieces of turkey instead of three." 

Remus happily ate the food when Virge brought it to his face. His tail was going nuts and he was ready to kiss that emo over and over, in a puppy kind of way. Mostly.

"I'll let you have some more in a bit. I'm not up for cleaning up vomit," Virgil said and picked up his sandwich. He took a bite and carried his new buddy to the common area and sat on the couch. He let go of Remus and turned on the TV. 

"So do you have a name, Pup?" he asked and took another bite of his sandwich. Remus stared up at him and let out a confused whine. Virgil paid it no mind and put the Twilight Zone on. 

"I guess you aren't one of the talking dogs, huh?" Virgil said and mindlessly pet the dog on his lap. Remus practically melted at the touch, no wonder dogs went nuts for pets! 

He lost track of time, floating in the bliss from human contact. He was comfy, curled up against Virgil's tummy, partly covered by the emo's hoodie. Remus didn't even realize he was drifting off to the sound of the show's theme music until it stopped and something cool and delicious bumped his nose. 

"Still hungry?" Virgil asked and bumped the last bit of sandwich against his nose. Remus sniffed it and snatched it, gobbling it up without ceremony. 

"Damn, doesn't the duke feed you?" Virgil huffed and resituated them so he was laying on his side with the doggy duke pressed against his chest. 

Remus could hear his heartbeat, slow and relaxed. He always did like hearing it, being close to Virgil. They were best friends before Virgil left and maybe Remus realized that Virgil meant so much more than that to him. He was just thrilled to be on speaking terms with him again, so this situation was heavenly. 

"I shouldn't doubt him like that. He loves his creations and babies you guys," Virgil sighed and idly stroked his fur. Remus let out a pitiful whine and crawled towards his face.

"Yeah, your buddy Remus is a good guy. He takes care of the things he really loves and he's so upbeat. You're lucky to be one of his, he'll treat you right, even if he's a little eccentric," Virgil yawned and let his eyes fall shut. He was unfairly pretty.

Remus yipped and inched closer, heart hammering in his ears. Virgil wasn't the guy who gave out compliments readily, especially about him. He licked Virgil's nose and cuddled closer. 

"I like you too, Pup. You're a sweet little guy, just like him," he mused and wrapped his arm around the dog, "but at least I can tell you aren't secretly just trying to get in my pants." 

Remus lowered his ears and whined, licking his cheek sadly. He was horny and flirty, sure, but he cared about Virgil! He didn't just want to get at that sweet, sweet ass! He wanted to have quiet moments like this too! 

Virgil lazily pushed him back by the snout and snorted, "Too much, Puppy. It's alright, I just have to get over my feelings before I let him try anything. It's not easy, he's such a great guy—energetic and upbeat, and sure he's unsettling sometimes, but he gets me. He knows how to shock me out of my panicking and he always manages to cheer me up when I'm down. I get all mushy when he smiles at me with this one calm grin he's got and I keep throwing insults because he makes me nervous. It's stupid how much I just want to hold him when he isn't interested in me that way. I'm an idiot for falling for my best friend and rambling about it to a dog I just met." 

Remus blinked up at him cutely, trying to will his eyes open with his mind. He needed Virgil to look at him! He would find a way to get Virgil to see that he wanted that too, that Virge wasn't an idiot—okay maybe he was for falling for the duke, but he was the good kind of idiot! 

Virgil didn't spare him a glance. Instead he scooped up the little dog and rolled onto his back. Remus squirmed in his grasp and managed to escape. 

"He has feelings for me!" Remus thought and stared at that sleepy emo. That snarky witty man was so important to him. He just wanted to kiss him all over and cling to him like a koala. Since he couldn't do that, he settled for giving him a few licks on the cheek and nose before settling down to sleep. He was happily surprised when Virgil leaned up and kissed his nose. 

"Don't tell anyone about that," he mumbled, "Can't let anyone think I went soft." Remus laughed in his head and got cozy. He wouldn't tell a soul not when he was special enough to see this side of Virgil.

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

"Well isn't this precious!" 

Remus grunted and blinked away the remnants of sleep. He sent a half-hearted glare at the source of the cooing, and growled. Roman was standing there, more amused by his reaction. 

"You know, when she said she turned you into a dog I had no idea that her curse would be lifted so quickly!" 

"Lifted?" Remus grumbled, and froze. He could speak again! And someone was hugging him! 

"Yes! And now you're snuggling your true love! That would be the only way to break the curse, mind you, and I have never seen something so precious! And I've seen Janus blepping!" the prince practically squealed.

"True love? Who the hell would—?" Remus grumbled and checked to see who he was sleeping on. His face heated up at the sight of one incredibly peaceful emo. That's who the hell would love him. 

"Oh shit that wasn't just a dream!" he yelped, making Virgil hold him tighter. He squirmed and thrashed and escaped, only to fall on the floor with a thud. 

"What the hell?!" Virgil shouted and sat up abruptly. He took in his surroundings and his eyes landed on the happy prince. 

"Where is he?" Virgil snarled. Roman shrugged, despite his shit-eating grin. 

"Who are you looking for?" 

"Don't pull that shit, Roman. The Bichon Frise from Remus' side. Where is he?!" 

"He's on the floor, trying to process the implications of certain circumstances," Roman hummed, "So I'll let you two work things out while I make breakfast." He skipped off while Virge looked at the floor. Remus was on his back, staring at the ceiling in shock. 

"Okay so were you able to tell me you were a dog or did you just want to get too close?" 

"I couldn't talk. It was a curse," Remus said distantly, "A fairytale curse." He looked at Virgil, eyes wide and anticipating the worst. The emo's face twisted in thought and he studied the duke. Remus was flustered and in shock, and it took a lot to shock him. 

Oh.

Oh!

"Don't consider this an invitation to makeout whenever," he huffed and swung his legs around so his feet touched the ground. Remus blinked as Virge hoisted him up and cradled him on his lap.

"True love is weird," Remus mumbled, stunned and thrilled to be in those strong arms.

"So are you, Pup. But are you sure it's that?" 

"I hope so! You gave me your sandwich and cuddled me and you said those things about me! And I kinda have a giant heart boner for you! And a regular one! You have no idea how many horrible horrible things I would go through for you! I miss you so much and it hurts and I just want to be disgustingly sappy with you and then suck your—" 

"You mean it?" Virge asked shyly and looked away. It made Remus incredibly soft. 

"Yeah. Every word, Scare Bear," he said, "I didn't think you would be into me like that. I'm a mess and a menace. I was gonna keep my trap shut but then you told me all that stuff last night!" Virge winced and hid his face in his hands. 

"I won't tell a soul," Remus breathed and hugged his emo, "as long as you don't tell Patton I ate the cookie dough he left in the fridge." 

"That was mine, you ass," Virgil scoffed and hugged him back. 

"And it was as sweet and mouth watering as you!" he giggled, "and I won't tell a soul about that too, in exchange for a smooch!"

Virge snorted and leaned away from the hug. Remus stared at him questioningly and wiggled his mustache at the darker eyeshadow under Virgil's eyes. What did he have to be anxious about? 

And then Virge cupped his cheek and sighed, only to surge forward and kiss Remus with a flood of longing and passion. He had wanted to do that for some time, and Remus mirrored those feelings in full. The duke kissed back, getting lost in his true love. 

 Click

 "Isn't this precious! Patton is going to love having this in his scrapbook!" Roman squealed and put away his phone. Remus and Virgil jolted apart and glared at him. 

"PRINCEY!" 

Roman ran.

[satan-ruler-of-hells]

Of Pandas And Possibilities

Hey guys! So, after endlessly discussing third year Yamaguchi with @pies-writes-and-more I decided to indulge just a little. I'm lowkey happy with this so I really hope you guys enjoy! A huge thank you to Pies for pretty much giving me the energy to post it! I love you (this totally wasn't lowkey written for you nope that would be ridiculously ridiculous)

So I tried to write this with a gender-neutral reader, if you see anything please let me know!

Yamaguchi x Reader

Your stomach had been doing flips for hours. You'd completely finished getting ready over an hour before Yamaguchi told you he'd be by to pick you up but you couldn't help it. This was your first date as a couple and you were so excited and also scared out of your mind. You and Yams had been dancing around each other for years, always pushing, always testing the waters but never diving in for fear of what would be waiting for you at the bottom, and if it would ever be worth the risk. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi had befriended you over the summer before first year and grew closer as you attended Karasuno and followed them on their volleyball journey, always supporting them however you could.

You’d always been more fond of Yamaguchi over Tsukishima, the blonde’s crassness more often than not rubbing you wrong, while Tadashi’s subtlety entranced you. (You were not naive, you were very much aware that Yamaguchi was just as mean as Tsukishima under that adorably freckled face, he just wasn’t as upfront about it as Tsukki was.) You’d begun to realize just how much fonder in your second year, which in a moment of panic and ( though you would never admit it) fear you squished all the butterflies in your stomach and told the caterpillars they were on thin fucking ice.

Third-year came around and promptly knocked you on your ass. You hadn’t seen either of your friends much over the break, they were consumed with volleyball camps and university applications and you struggled under the scholarship deadlines and the general responsibilities that came with being the oldest sibling in a one-parent household. So on the first day when Yamaguchi came into the homeroom wrapping you in a hug and lifting you off your feet, to say you were floored was an understatement. He’d grown in more ways than one in the time you’d been apart, from his height to his hair which he’d had tied back into a bun at the moment. Hours in the sun brought a beautiful tan to his skin and made his freckles more pronounced, months of work bulking his entire frame, where before he was a lean and small boy, now a solid, broad-shouldered muscled man. Behind him, Tsukishima cleared his throat with a knowing smirk gracing his face which you desired nothing more than to slap off.

Amongst the physical changes brought from under the summer sun came a few less noticeable ones unless you knew what you were looking for. Before he’d hidden in the shadow cast by Tsukishima comfortable to let him take the lead, now he’d stood beside him, confidence in every step, a sun in his own right. It was your turn to fumble on your words when he openly flirts with you, your face warming considerably. The dance you had been playing had sped up, him taking the lead twirling you around until you were breathless and dizzy.

You remember the night he asked if you’d allow him to be your boyfriend, walking home from your weekly movie night after dropping Tsukishima off at his house. His jacket draped sound your shoulder to fight the chill of the October air and his hand in yours, you were positive that the stars were merely a poor imitation of the sparkle in his eyes. You’d rolled your eyes with a “Took you long enough Tadashi” and his laughter followed you up the stairs and into your dreams.

A week later saw you here, looking into the mirror and resisting the urge to change for the millionth time, instead trying to find something to occupy you while you waited for him to arrive. Your mom just laughed at your flustered state,

“Y/N the boy has seen you in sweatpants and a t-shirt after not showering for three days when you caught that stomach bug and he still asked you out. I doubt he’d even notice if you wore a potato sack, he’s usually too busy looking at you.”

The doorbell rang and you, ignoring the warmth in your face and the swarm of butterflies in your stomach, opened the door revealing a grinning Tadashi. Watching his eyes widen and cheeks redden made your stomach do a swan dive and you thought, maybe your mom had a point.

With promises to be careful and home at a respectable hour, you and Yamaguchi set off toward your destination, a festival of sorts with carnival games and amusement rides that was in town for the next few days. As you slipped into easy conversation with him, you wanted to laugh at yourself for the way you’d talked yourself up. This was Tadashi Yamaguchi, one of your best friends in the entire world, and yes the parameters of your relationship had changed but that still remained. Just now you could hold his hand whenever you wanted and his arm rested comfortably around your shoulder like it was meant to be there.

With the nerves from earlier forgotten, you proceeded to have what you were willing to bet was the best first date in history. From laughing as you watched him try, and successfully do so, win a ridiculously oversized stuffed panda which he presented to you with a smile that made your heart flutter, to clinging to his arm on the drop tower despite insisting you weren’t scared of heights,” I-I’m fine- quit laughing Yams it’s so not funny-”

A few hours later saw you both dragging your feet on your way back to your house wearing Tadashi’s hoodie and him chivalrously carrying that giant panda y’all had affectionately named Patches after his eye had popped off when Yam’s hugged its head just a little too tight prompting his eyes to widen and resulting in you getting a stitch in your side from laughing so hard. His hand was warm in yours, thumb brushing absentmindedly against his knuckles unable to tear your eyes from him. The moonlight shining off his dark hair, eyes illuminated with mirth and something you were sure was mirrored in yours, pure adoration and, at least on your part, love. The realization spreads warmth through you, settling comfortably in your chest and you resist the urge to blurt it out right then, ‘one day,’ you thought to yourself.

You arrived home way too quickly for your liking and if the way Yamaguchi was stalling you figured he’d felt the same. Standing there on your front porch, neither of you said a word, content to bask in the other's presence as long as you could before the inevitable. You were the first to break the silence,

“Thank you for tonight, I had a really amazing time.” You couldn’t fight the shy grin that crept on your face.

“I did too, I’m glad that you had a good time I mean.” He grins, scratching the back of his head nervously, face turning a brilliant pink.

“So… goodnight I guess, text me when you get home?”

“ Of course, goodnight Y/N.”

You were sure you were imagining the hesitation in his voice, but then again you weren’t ready to watch him leave either, sure that the second he did you would wake up, this being nothing but a glorious dream. You watched him walk across the yard to the sidewalk before reluctantly turning to open your door, stopped by a quick call of your name. You turned back around coming face to face with Yamaguchi who was breathing heavily. You saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before hearing him mutter, “Fuck it.” under his breath. Then all you could see were fireworks, and it took you a second to register what happened.

Tadashi’s lips were soft against yours, his hands gently cradling your face, you could feel him trembling against you from the nerves. He must’ve mistaken your shock for disinterest for you could feel him tense but before he could pull back you wrapped your arms around his neck returning the kiss with vigor, feeling him relax against you, his hands dropping from your face to rest against your hips. Every point where Yamaguchi touched you felt like fire, electricity burning through your veins. Yes, it was nervous and messy and new but it was him and real and amazing and you don’t think it could’ve been any more perfect.

He quickly proved you wrong with the kiss that followed.

Taglist: @thisnoodlewritesao3

[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Four): Leave My Head Among The Stars

Notes: Okayyyyyy, so here’s the thing, I started to write this chapter and what I planned to have in it and then I suddenly had 66 pages of content. So, I had to split it up. So I have three chapters, including this one, written up. So, these next couple updates for this will be fairly quick. I’m trying to get to johnny quick, but act 1 is a doozy, I hope you’re still enjoying the content though. 

Word Count: 9268

Chapter Warnings: Mild violence, weird sexual tension,

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

Fingernails scratch at V’s back, the merc whining as she’s gently stirred awake. Her eyes are still blurry with sleep and the sun is just beginning to filters in through her window when she looks up at the older woman. Sunlight illuminates Cecelia, makes her freckles stand out on her tanned skin and turns her eyes molten gold. Her lips move and V has to refocus, not just stare at the far too out of her league woman, and focus on reading her lips. 

“….work….” 

That’s all she can read across Cecelia’s lips and she grumbles, rolling off of the older woman. V wraps her blankets tightly around herself, forming a cocoon as her fuckbuddy leaves the bed. She watches for a minute, before it hits her; she makes a vague disgruntled noises as she grabs the hem of Cecelia’s shirt, stopping her from leaving. The older woman looks at her for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights as she looks at the sleepy curled up merc tugging at her clothes. 

“Pancakes…” Is all V says, assuming her voice sounds as heavy with sleep as it feels, she grabs some eurodollars off her bedside table. The merc pushes the money into Cecelia’s hands, paying her for the food she brought in last night. Cecelia’s face drops, though V’s sleep laden brain can’t begin to understand why. 

“Well...kinda...feel...prostitute,” V’s unfocused eyes struggles to read Cecelia’s lips, but she can fill in the blanks. That this exchange of money, even if meant for pancakes, has made Cecelia feel like a prostitute. 

“Don’t worry,” V yawns, signing a little sloppy from exhaustion, “I don’t pay for sex, so you’re fine.” 

Then V’s passed back out against her pillow. 

V wakes up, an hour or so later, rolling out of her sheets, Cecelia already long gone. She rubs at her sleep laden eyes and shoots a quick text to Jackie, letting him know she’s ready to meet up whenever he is, so she can see his big news. He texts back almost immediately, proclaiming he’s on his way. V decides to use her time to quickly clean up the mess of last night; cleaning her toy and changing out her sheets. She’ll have to do laundry soon, but that’s an issue for later tonight… or later this week...or month. V will figure it out, at some point. She grabs a quick shower and changes her clothes.  

Despite the heat, she opts for a cropped hoodie, jeans, and her old slightly ratty backpack. Her mask, air hypos, max docs, bounce backs and extra weapons packed inside along with ammo. Night City necessities. It may seem like a bit much but, her mask can’t fit in her pocket and Jackie likes to spring gigs on her. She slides her optic contact case in her pocket, alongside her phone, turns on her translator choker,  then puts in her hearing aids. Her ears twinge, still a little raw, she was more focused on sleeping than doctoring them last night. 

She tucks her favorite knife into a thigh holster and  her preferred gun in a hidden holster in her waistband. Armed to the teeth, V ties her boots and heads out the door, letting it lock behind her, nose twinging again at the smell as soon as steps out. V starts out through the big walkway that goes into balconied steps, though the view is just more apartments, the elevator that leads to the front is a floor down across from one of the clusters of shops that sit on that floor. Every couple of floors there's a services level. In this one megabuilding alone there are probably twenty restaurants and forty gun shops. Hell, her vending machine in her apartment has the option to order a joytoy or sex droid from the brothel eight floors up. 

Her holophone buzzes, bleeps, and lights up inside of her pocket as she walks past the cluster of vending machines. She checks, expecting a text from Jackie, that he’s already waiting on her. And instead groans.

REMINDER, TAKE YOUR MEDICATION!!!!!!! :3 

Her phone notification screams at her and she groans under her breath. She stomps back up the stairs and back into her apartment, grabbing a flat Nicola Sakura and using it to swallow down her immunosuppressants, then she leaves her apartment, again. V’s mentally cursing her own forgetfulness, she can remember to keep twenty different weapons on her, but her medication manages to slip her mind routinely. 

The chatter of strangers fills  the services floor as she walks through, past the initial pocket of vending machines, then restaurant stands, and then as if to mock her when she eats that garbage; a gym section of the floor. All of which is followed by a gun shop.  It's all a weird medley of sounds and smells that her sensitive self struggles with. 

Theres the clinging of sodas from the vending machines, the searing sound of cooking dishes, the talk of strangers, the grunts of people working out, the thwacking of people hitting punching bags, the clanging of weights, advertisements screaming at her to buy something, the muffled sound of gunfire from the Second Amendement’s shooting range, and robotic whirrs of Coach Fred’s punching bag robot. 

And the smells, dear lord the smells. Gunpowder, sweat, and cooking food; all mingled with people’s own body odor or perfumes with just a sprinkle of hot trash. 

She considers turning her hearing aids off and grabbing her chapstick, as she passes by Coach Fred’s section of the floor where he offers boxing training, a raised platform to box on. He punches and trains against his training droid. 

“Hey, V!” The older man calls out, before she can mute the world,  padded robot stopping next to him, “How you like my new Punchin' Bag? Just gave me a nextgen ass-whoopin', he did. Be curious to see how he handles the likes of V... Heh. So how 'bout it?” 

“Pff,” V can’t help but scoff just a little, Coach Fred is easy a foot or more taller than her and more muscular, but he wants to see her take the damn thing on, “sure.” 

“Light on your feet. Keep that head movin'!” The boxer tells her as she steps up into the crude boxing area and he steps out. 

V cracks her knuckles as the automated training bot stands in front of her, the small merc raises her fists, all the only sign the droid needs to initiate combat mode. It swings a right hook at her and she dodges. A left hook next and she blocks, countering with her own punch, knuckles connected with it’s padded head. That first strike knocks it off balance enough to land two more, the bot stopping in defeat. Easy enough, maybe Coach Fred put it in easy mode?

“You got one helluva punch there, champ. Ever thought of monetizing it? I can arrange a fight or two. Whaddaya say?” The former coach asks her, sitting down on a bench. 

She’s not so sure, most of her combat skills being focused on killing opponents and getting the drop stealthily. She can hold her own, but fighting a gangoon on the street where only one of them is going to walk away from it is different from a controlled fight with rules. Sparring with Jackie and the odd training session with Fred or Vik her only experience in boxing. But… money is money. She can give it a shot, go low stakes on the first one, she does well keep going. If she blunders it, no big loss. 

“You arrange fights still?” 

“Mmhmm and I think you got a knack for this, You've got sharp instinct, good edge. You can go far, especially if you get chipped. These fights… let's just say they aren't legal. Buuut… very lucrative.”

“And you get a cut, I assume.” 

“I get a small percentage of the total winnings, you know, as your agent. You get the rest.”

“Of course, I’ll consider it, zip me the details of the first fight.” 

“Like I said, good instinct.” 

V rolls her eyes and continues through the service floor with a wave bye, passing by a Fuyutsuki and someone spray painting a cement wall. The bright neon red of the Second Amendment gun shop sign bathes the end of the services floor, just across from the elevator. 

“V!” Wilson calls out and by god, why’d she turn on her hearing aids, “got some sweet new .45’s in, come take a look!” 

“Can’t right now, in a rush, when I get back, promise!” She signs quickly, uses her elbow to jam the call elevator button. 

It thankfully reaches her floor fairly quickly, allowing her to wave a quick bye to the older man, and stepping inside. There’s a slight relief as the doors close and she hits the floor she needs,  the elevator carriage rocking into movement. While the screens still play advertisements, it's one sound, instead of a hundred. She uses some more lip balm, vanilla flavor on her lips and the sweet smell hitting her nose.  

She adjusts the volume slightly on her hearing aids, lowering it just a bit more as the elevator comes to a stop. While not technically a services floor, the front entrance of the building is nearly as bad. There are at least ten or more restaurant stands in that area, V walking past everyone trying to sell her a burger or hot dog. 

The sunlight hits her as she walks down the stairs that lead to her building and she spots Jackie, well his back. He’s sitting at a food stand that’s a very short walk from the building, because there certainly is not enough inside of the building. He’s got his face buried in a takeout box of synth-beef chow mein, not even noticing as V creeps up on him. 

V’s nearly at his back and the street vendor raises an eyebrow, no doubt wondering if his customer is about to be robbed. Then she’s jumping to throw her arms around Jackie’s neck in a mock headlock, more so just hanging off the giant’s back. 

“And its V with the headlock~” She jokes, voice low in his ear and he laughs. His chuckle making his chest vibrate and she can feel it. 

“Someone’s feeling better,” he comments as she detangles from his back, “you,  get your beauty sleep or…?” 

He waggles his eyebrows at her as she climbs up onto the seat next to him, swinging a foot out to kick him. Her boot just bouncing back off his shin. 

“I don’t kiss and tell, Jackie, you know that,” she signs and rolls her eyes, red flushing up her cheeks at the thought of giving details. 

“Yeah, I just like seeing your face go that shade of pink, hehe.” 

“I swear to god if your big news was just an excuse to give me shit.” 

“Nah nah, got something to show you, first, chica.” Jackie grins ear to ear, like the cat that ate the canary. He tosses his trash into a bin and smacks her shoulder to follow him, bouncing like a kid on their way to the christmas tree. 

“I’m already terrified,” she taunts as she hops down and follows him to a curb, a motorcycle parked there. 

It's an Arch Nazare, slightly older model but not ancient by any stretch. From the sideview, the detailing is slick. Black with red branding and detailing, the exhaust and some pipework a bright gold color. The gold’s a little gaudy for her liking, But, she sideyes Jackie. His favorite red and black jacket, heavy gold jewelry bouncing on his chest. Gonk probably sunk more into the paint job then he did the actual bike. She can’t help but chuckle and when he proudly leans against the bike, his grin ear to ear, megawatt and shining brighter than the sun. When she peeks at the top detailing she can see a Calavara style skull decal on the dash. It screams Jackie. 

“What’cha think, jaina?” 

“It's beautiful and very you; how’d you manage to score a ride like that? Custom paint job too, I presume. Must have cost a pretty penny.”  

“Muy peque,  took out a loan , but ah, totally worth it. Got her on the cheap actually, Dorsett job dividend.” 

“You already blew your cash from that job?” 

“Someday you’re gonna have to actually spend your money and live a little, V, you know that?” 

“Nothing wrong with saving back for something nicer down the road,” she retorts, thinking of her little jar of cash in the storage space beneath her bed. She’s been trying to take so much from every payday aside to save. 

“And uh, what are you saving for again?” 

“....a Kusanagi...or a Projectile Launcher...or a bigger apartment...or…” 

“You’re stockpiling cash and you don’t even know what for, chica,” he laughs at her indecision, her ultimate splurge item she’s saving for changes weekly, “look, check this out.” 

He straddles the motorcycle and turns the ignition, the Arch roaring to life and it’s… loud and rumbly, not even remotely subtle. She can picture it now, him showing up to a gig on it and getting blasted to pieces immediately. 

“No, V, don’t,” he cuts the engine, pointing a finger at her from where he sits on the motorcycle. 

“What?” 

“Don’t make that face at me!” 

“What face?” 

“The face you make when you’re about to piss all over my parade.” 

“I do not piss on your parade.” 

“You do and you’re about to do it right now, I know you V, you got a billion thoughts rattling around that skull of yours and not one of them is good.” 

“All I was going to say…” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Is, you should maybe consider swapping out the tailpipe.” 

“It’s got a rumble, the chicas love that.” 

“It’s got a rumble that tells every gangoon within a twenty mile radius that you’re coming their way.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“And… you should probably tinker with the fuel injection too, upload a new map, and slap on some thermal tape until you fix the exhaust.” 

“V!” 

She folds her hands on his shoulder, then balances her chin on top of them, giving him puppy dog eyes. He’s huffy, not meeting her gaze. V knows damn well her tendency to be a buzzkill, especially in comparison to Jackie. Its a bad habit that always leaves her feeling guilty, but also an impulse, because...if she isn’t prepared for worst case scenarios...that’s death. 

“But I am really happy for you,  it's a gorgeous ride and you look like a total badass on it.”  She whispers, close enough that only Jackie can hear, hoping the honey sweet words will make him feel better. And she can see the smile pulling at his lips, that soon becomes that big grin she loves as he finally meets her gaze. 

“Okay, okay, your buzzkilling is forgiven. You can stop blowing wind up my ass.” 

“Hehe,” her face drops with realization, “Jackie, where’s my car?”

“Oh, uh, I dropped it off to my guy, Miguel. Fixed it up like new, you can call it whenever you want. But I figured, you’d rather grab a ride on this baby.” 

“Ooooh, hell yeah.”

“C’mon, was planning on stopping by Misty’s, lets go.” 

That’s all the provocation V needs, hopping onto the back of the Arch. The backseat space is limited, Jackie taking up the vast majority of the seat. But she slips behind him easily, wrapping her arms around his stomach. Her hands can’t quite fully meet around him, having to just tangle her fingers in the front of his jacket. Then the engine comes roaring to life, Jackie taking off from the curb. 

She can’t help but laugh, Jackie not holding back as they go speeding down the city roads. He blasts the radio, blaring a song she doesn't know from the bike's speaker, mingling with Jackie's laughter  and the wind whipping around them. 

But it's not overwhelming, not too much, never could be with Jackie.

 They weave through traffic, riding on the middle lane and not letting anything stop them as they pick up more and more speed. She’s pressed tight against his back, leeching off his warmth as the wind manages to send a little chill up her spine. Her cheeks ache from grinning as they cruise over a hill in the highway, catching air for a moment, her entire body bouncing when the bike hits the road again. If not for her tight hold on his jacket, she might have gone flying which only makes her laugh harder.

He doesn't slow down until they start to reach the stretch of city where Misty's store and Vik's clinic are, Jackie slowly pulling up onto a curb to park. Their bodies shifting forward at the stop, V’s chest pressing even closer into Jackie’s back for a moment. 

"Joyrides over, jaina," he says, playfully tapping her hand where it sits on his stomach. 

She lets go, allowing her friend to pull away and get off the motorcycle. His body language starts to shift, as he stands in front of her, looking off somewhere else. He takes a deep enough breath that she can see his chest move with it, then he crosses his arms and kicks at the pavement. 

"She's a smooth ride," V signs to him, swinging  her legs over the side of the bike so she can face him directly. Is he second guessing his decision? She didn't mean to make him feel bad about the choice.

"Uh," Jackie scratches at the back of his neck, "remember what I said, about having big news?"

"Is..the Arch not the big news?" She asks, pulling a leg up onto the motorcycle and resting an elbow on her knee. 

"Ah nah, I'm proud of it, but this...chica, is so much bigger than that.”

"Okay...you wanna tell me or…?" 

"Got a sweet ass j-o-b lined up for us; you, me, and Bug."

"I get the feeling this is different from our usual gig.” 

“I mean, maybe it's not as big as that,” he puts his hands on his hips and shrugs, trying to play coy with his news, “Just that it's fronted by a little-known someone named Dexter DeShawn.”

“What!?” 

“Only the top fixer in Night-fuckin'-City! Fat-assed Black Jesus of the Afterlife. Three hundred pounds of partly gold-plated cool.”

Dex Deshawn is one of Night City’s best, a fixer known for working in the Afterlife club, where the best jobs and contracts are done. Two baby mercs like her and Jackie couldn’t dream to set foot in the place, still cutting their teeth and making their name. Hell, Dex hasn’t even been active in NC for two years and V’s still heard of him, leaving that much of a mark on the city. But, she chews the inside of her cheek. 

“He’s back in the city?” She asks first, wanting as much detail as possible. 

“Yeah, gang wars two years back. Somehow Dex got caught up in the craziness. Lotta bodies lyin' in the streets by the time the shootin' stopped. Eh, Dex got lucky, though. Managed to slip under the radar tir tempers cooled. Took a while… but he's made one hell of a comeback.” 

“Two years is a hell of a break, the fuck was he doing?” 

“Ah, guessin' he shoved pizzas in his mouth while jerkin' off to hardcore virtus. Important thing is he's back, needs a fresh crew and he found us.” 

If he’s made such a comeback and is still that high up in the underground world, why would Dex come to them? They’ve been steadily building themselves up over the past six months sure, a solid network of fixers who work with them and a reputation for clean work. But, they still aren’t legends, not major league players. V isn’t even chipped much beyond the basics. People like Dex have a black book of borged out solos with corp money funding them, that can do basically anything they can do but better and quicker. 

Only difference is, they’d be cheaper. So, unless he’s looking to exploit them for some rinky dink shit job… 

“Okay,” she signs, deciding to just ask, “but why the hell would he be scouting us? You and me ain’t exactly major leagues yet.” 

“You, me - nah. But T-Bug,  she's the one that hooked us up, got us talkin’ knew it was a done deal the moment he laid eyes on me. 'Cause, c'mon - ain't nobody who can resist this. Am I right?” 

“Wait, when? Where the fuck was I?” 

“Uhhh, probably in the sheets with Cece, if I had to guess.” 

“You said you had a date with Misty last night!?” 

“I did, didn’t I.” 

“What the fuck, why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Dex is big on meeting his crew members one on one. Wanted to get a read on me, without anyone else around. No point in getting  you excited until he was sold on me." 

“Okay, fine,” she rolls her eyes, she would have appreciated a heads up, but there’s worse tragedies, “So, what’s the gig? He give you the specs?” 

“Well, that's the thing, you see. Our lord and savior wants to tell you everything himself. Face to face, have your turn in the hot seat.” 

“Oh, okay… how’d it go with you and Bug?”  She can’t help the nerves suddenly bubbling up inside of her. V has to meet one of Night City’s top fixers, convince him she’s worth hiring. That’s only vaguely terrifying. 

“Eh, not that bad, but… T-Bug and Dex go way back. And my face is yesterday's news, you’re the wild card here. Dex says he needs to check you, talk to you No pressure, but the whole thing is riding on you at this point.”

“Yeah, no pressure.” 

“Ain’t as bad as you think, okay? Trust me. Dex is the real deal when it comes to fixers. Don't get me wrong, don't got nothin' against the Padre or Wakako, but… Dex is in a league of his own You know what I'm sayin'?” 

“Still a fixer, may just be roping in the cheapest gonks he can find, so he can drop our corpses in the landfill once everything is said and done.” 

“Hey now,” his tone dipping a little lower than usual, “didn’t pull you out of the trash just to see someone to throw you back in, mija.”  

She doesn’t miss the softness in his eyes, the hazel green looking at her so affectionately, then his large warm hand ruffles through her hair, bringing that tinge of red back to her cheeks. Mija is a rare term of endearment from him, just that bit more familiar and sweet than his usual chica or jaina. As much as she worries, she knows if anything does go sideways, Jackie will be there to help her. 

“I know that, Jackie,” she signs, then jabs his stomach, trying to dispel the tender mood, she searches for a topic switch,“so, when's the meet with Dex?” 

"Uhh...now."

"What?"

"Just around the corner, next to Gramsci Burgers, he's waiting on you." 

"What!?" She blinks, in disbelief. V has to meet him, today, now. Completely unprepared. Has Jackie lost his goddamn mind?

"Time sensitive stuff, V, we gotta get this ball rolling, and quick.” 

“And you couldn’t have said any of this before?” 

“No worries, you’ll be fine, I’m gonna go pop in to see Misty,” he points his thumb back over his shoulder, “while you talk us up and seal the deal, alright?” 

“Not alright, none of this is alright.” 

“You got this, chica, just make us look good.” With a heavy clap on her shoulder, he starts to walk away. Fucker. 

“I’ll key your fucking bike!” She signs, upping the volume on her translator. 

“Love you too, jaina, text me when you’re done!~” He yells back, knowing her threat is an empty one. 

Then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd around the storefronts. V groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. Why on earth does she let him do this shit? A heads up, that’s all she asks for. Now, she has a meeting with one of the most influential fixers in Night City, with no idea of what to say or how to handle it. Make them look good, how the hell does she do that? He’s a loud mouth and she’s deaf, they sound more like a sitcom duo than a competent pair of mercs. 

V shuts off her choker translator and gets her mask from her bag, sliding it onto her face and putting her hood up.  The young merc climbs down from Jackie’s bike, leaving the dusty boot print on the seat, a little bit of petty rearing its head. She wrings and twists her hands together as she walks towards Gramsci’s Burgers, boots stomping across trash strewn pavement. She passes by hot pink tinted windows in buildings with strippers dancing to entice passerbys, a large open alleyway where a few groups of homeless people cluster in together. 

The merc keeps her head down as she passes a skirmish between a group of Tyger Claws and the NCPD, a blood bath beneath an overpass. Between pigs or tigers; she has no preference. Not her fight.  The sound of an emp grenade being thrown, pushes the merc to change the side of the street she walks on, she’s gotten used to the violence of Night City before the smell. 

Shaded beneath a cement overpass is a sleek black limousine; Chevillion Thrax 388 Jefferson. An expensive well armored vehicle, one that certainly suits a man of Dex’s status. If the car itself was not enough protection the six foot seven bodyguard standing outside the rear doors tops it off. A portion of his face silver plated and his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. She takes a few steps closer when the large stoic mass of a man sees her. He says nothing, only opening the rear door. 

V swallows the lump in her throat and adjusts her mask; nerves pit in her stomach, a chilled sweat on her skin that doesn’t come from the August heat. 

The smoke hits her first when she starts to climb inside the car, despite the open windows and door, choking her through her mask. If it were anyone other than Night City’s top fixer, she’d already be gone. Instead she sits in the leather seats, sitting next to Dex. While crude, Jackie’s description was apt. 

Dex Deshawn is a large man; dark dreadlocks and a rounded belly. He puffs away on a cigar, his right arm gold from the elbow down. The fixer and Jackie have similar tastes in colors it seems; red, black, and gold.  Gold cyberware, a gold watch, and gold chains all adorn the fixer. Red leather vest over a black shirt and red tinted sunglasses hiding his eyes. The guard shuts the car door.

“Miss V, masked merc herself. A pleasure,” he greets her, his voice deep and smooth. His bodyguard is moving to get into the driver's seat. 

“Happy to meet you,” she signs and she can see a little twitch in his eyebrow, as her tech translates. Its unorthodox. 

“Weren’t joking ‘bout you; no face, no name, and no voice,” he chuckles, seemingly amused at her quirks before speaking to the driver, “let's roll.” 

A beat of silence, V’s mind already spinning at those words. Jackie is incredibly excited for this gig, she’d hate to be the reason it tanks, not to mention it’s a great chance for her too. A chance into the major leagues, to really prove herself and make bank doing it. But if Dex is… put off by her secretive tendencies and unorthodox presentation, that could spell disaster. 

“Mind if I ask you something right off the bangle?” Dex’s voice pulls her back from her thoughts, the car moving as the fixer switches his cigar from gold fingers to flesh ones. 

“Go for it.” 

“Would you rather live in peace as Miss Nobody, die ripe, old and smelling slightly of urine? Or go down for all times in a blaze of glory, smellin' near like posies, 'thout seeing your thirtieth?”

The question takes her aback for a moment and the gears in her head start to turn. Honestly, she never even thought she’d make it to twenty. Felt like she’s been living on borrowed time ever since she was a kid; the first press of iron against her skull from her own father at nine. There are corpos pushing two-hundred and she can’t comprehend living beyond thirty. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t want a long, happy life. But, it’s never seemed like an option. She doesn’t necessarily want to die young, it just seems inevitable, but she can’t say she truly cares if she dies old either. 

“Quiet life was never on the table for me. But, truth is, no matter the lifestyle you live, we’re all one stroke of bad luck away from death.” 

“That so?” 

“Look, I’ve been dodging death all my life. Been shot, beat, stabbed, hacked,  strangled; you name it, someone’s done it to me. More close calls than I can count. And I’m still sitting here. This girl used to live with her sister, just a few floors above mine. Then she caught a stray bullet coming home from the gas station. Went to buy a snack and a gang fight broke out. She wasn’t in a gang, wasn’t a merc, just a nineteen year old kid who’d chat my ear off about how she wanted to have her own bakery one day. So, why did I make it to twenty and she didn’t? “

Death doesn’t discriminate and it doesn’t care what kind of life you’re trying to live. Its nipped at her heel all of her life, but hasn’t taken her and won’t until it’s damn ready. What’s the point in hypothesizing whether her life will kill her sooner or if she’d live longer if she settled down; neither are a guarantee of anything. She might as well live her life how she sees fit, hit the major leagues, and death will strike her whenever it sees fit. V has watched and heard so many tales of those in her megabuilding, good people, better than her… losing their lives for no good reason. Because there is none; no logic to suffering, no rhyme nor reason to why or when death takes us. 

“Jackie did say you think too much,” Dex laughs, “though maybe he just doesn’t think enough.” 

“Not the answer you wanted?” 

“No right answer, just a pet topic of mine, helps get a read on people. T-Bug voted for the quiet life, been planning her retirement for years. Jackster went blaze of glory, no shock there. And then there’s you, throwing the whole damn question out.” 

“Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.” 

“Maybe so.” 

There’s something in his slight grin, his tone, and smooth voice that tells her this is going well. That somehow, she hasn’t fucked this entire thing up, yet, emphasis on yet. Her hands itch to fiddle with her shirt, no longer signing and needing to keep busy. But she stifles that instinct, forces her leg to not bounce with nerves.

“A’ight,” Dex speaks up after a moment, “listen close. Scannin' a serious job, now. Plain gargantuan compared to smashin' up a scav haunt.” 

So, she’s gotten the gig? Don’t act excited, she tells herself, exited puppy merc is not a good look. 

“What’s the job?” Moments like this she’s so glad she’s nonverbal, her throat feels like sandpaper. Her palms sweaty as she signs. 

“There's this… prototype tech - a biochip, to be precise. Job’s to grab it. Simple.” 

“Simple, sure… Assuming the tech belongs to a corp?” It has to be something big for Dex to be scouting for it. 

“Mhm - Arasaka. Surely that's no problem?” His brow raises above his glasses. 

“Course not, corps fuck us over everyday, be a crying shame not to return the favor every now and again.” 

“Shit, you ain’t playing around. Got a feelin' this could be a start of a beautiful friendship built on heaps of eddies.” 

“One step at a time, you got some sort of plan for grabbing this chip?” 

“Two things,” he holds up two gold plated fingers,  “First's a conundrum with the Maelstrom boys. Needs active resolvin', that. Second's a rendezvous. Simple. Client who brought us the job's anxious. She wants to parley with one o' the team.”

V’s face scrunches; why would the client need to meet? Its unusual to say the least, clients don’t usually meet the mercs directly. That’s the entire point of a fixer, a middle man to get them in touch and keep the deal fair. They’ve already got in touch with the fixer and arranged the gig. The hell else do they need? 

“What’s the client’s deal? Why she need to meet?” 

“Woman's name's Evelyn Parker. Vettin' her wasn't easy. Put the word out was lookin' for any kinda intel…”

The merc rolls her fingers, when Dex’s words drop off, encouraging him to explain further. 

“Some brothers from Pacifica got back to me. Tol' me to stop lookin', end of convo, heheh. Anyway, our lil client insisted on meetin' someone with skin in the game - you know, who'll be there for it all. Yours truly'll be remote, T-Bug ain't no people person, and Jackie's only good at some things - I know you know what I mean. Pretty much leaves you.”

“Because I’m sure being unable to see my face or hear my voice will put her right at ease, I’m sure.”

“Ain’t there to give her the warm fuzzies, Miss V. She needs to know I sent a solid merc who does solid work.” 

She both gets it and doesn’t. Jackie is the most sociable of their little motley crew, but he can be hard to take seriously, coming across as a bit more goofy. Its not a dig, she loves that about him. But, if you’re trying to convince a client you’ve gotten the best mercs for a job it can be a detriment. T-Bug tends to make people, especially strangers, feel downright insulted. So, V supposes she presents as a middle ground. Serious, yet vaguely off putting in her presentation, but competent and she won’t call the client an idiot even if they are. 

“Understood, whats the deal with Maelstrom?” 

“Slot in the shard,” he explains, getting a shard from the door compartment, holding it out to her. She takes it and slots into her mask, the interface suddenly clouded with a map and UI interface. 

“Got a classic tale for ya. Psychogang, doin' its thing two weeks back jumped a Militech convoy, got away with the gear. Corp don't even know Maelstrom's involved. Now see, convoy was carryin' the Flathead - a little combat bot, a prototype. And I need me that bit o' high-grade military tech. 'Cause if we don't get that bot, we don't get no 'Saka chip. An' we sure as hell don't get no happily ever after. But don't get excited, it's a single-use toy.”

The images shift to show her the bot and its details, it reminds her of a spider. A flat metal base with spindly legs from its sides. The serial coding of the tech comes up. 

“Now, I flat out purchased the damn thing from Maelstrom. Problem is, I did so from a gent went by the name of Brick. I say "went" 'cause Brick was the leader. Three days after we'd sealed our deal, his friend and gangmate, one Simon Randall, AKA Royce, plain dropped his ass. Royce is in charge now.” 

The interface shows Brick; his actual name Declan Griffin. He has the pretty standard Maelstrom look, more metal than flesh. Glowing red optics implanted into his face, sandy hair shaved on the sides. Then it switches to Royce; no less decked out, but bigger and wider built. His head completely shaved with a thick dark beard; his red eye optics seeming to go further back, like his entire frontal lobe might be gone. Standard Maelstrom attitude; scrap out the flesh that matters, switch it out with chrome and damned the consequences. 

“ And I got no way of knowin' if he aims to honor his predecessor's word. To add to this ‘shitstrom,’ one Meredith Stout of Millitech has developed an interest in said convoy.”

A woman pulls onto the screen, long blonde hair slicked back off of her face, icy colored eyes and dressed in tight black corp clothes. Sharp facial features and cyberware around her left eye. Standard corp look.  The shard deactivates, nothing more to show, the world comes back to her view. 

“New leader, what’s his deal?” 

“Straight psychopath- chrome-lovin' kind.”

“And the skirt?” 

“Corpo agent, internal affairs, Been skittin' 'round town askin' after the convoy as if her life depended on findin' it. The one lead she got's zip-tied in her trunk. Stick up her ass ain't growin' any shorter, so she must be gettin' desperate. Be wise to think how you could use that,” he smirks, “ ‘Course, to do so you'll need that frazzled cat's info. Sendin’ it now.”

V’s holophone lights up, as Dex’s optics glow beyond his glasses, him sending her the contact information. She’s not entirely sure if and how she’d use the Militech angle. 

“Okay, think I got everything I need to get to work.” 

“Why that's just music to my ears. I'll set up the meet with Miss Parker at Lizzie's Bar. Flathead, though, is gonna be all you.”

They both go quiet for a moment, V thinking as Dex continues to puff away on his cigar. Dex seems to approve of her, going ahead and giving her the prep work, but this opportunity could still be lost. If the client doesn’t approve or the Maelstrom debacle goes sour. This isn't a done deal, not yet. But she got through step one, which feels herculean. But something is still nagging at her. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Something I wasn’t clear on?” 

“Why us, me and Jackie? T-Bug I get, but why me and him?” 

“Think I’d be better off looking elsewhere?” 

“No, no, I ju-” 

“Chill, I’m just teasing, Miss V. I get it, really, not even a year in the city, right?” 

“Yeah…” 

“As far you’re concerned you’ve barely cut your teeth, right? Wondering why I’m scouting someone out who’s still in merc diaper?” 

“About sums it up.” 

He’s laughing again, seeming to find her confusion funny, or maybe there’s a joke she’s missing. But that doesn’t make the knot in her stomach go down any easier. 

“Talent don’t always recognize itself, I suppose,” he laughs, “thing is I took a break from the city for a good two years and its left me with… a bit of appetite. Wanted to scout a fresh team. New Bug from before and I heard Jackie name around before I took my leave, just in passing not a merc you’d look twice at. Heywood boy with some messy work.” 

“Hmm,” she hums behind her mask, hoping this isn’t going to be Dex shit talking Jackie. 

“Nothing against the cat, I know you’re chooms, but when I get back to NC and start looking for talent; well turns out Bug is working with Jackie on the regular. Ask her what’s changed, tells me he got himself a new partner. Skilled merc who’s helping him out; stealthy, effective, and damned good at what she does. Bug don’t give out compliments like candy. Ask around a little more, well, damn near every fixer’s got something to say about Jackie and his newest partner Miss V.  Six months and she’s more talked about than some mercs who’ve been doing this for years.” 

“I don’t know about all that.” 

“Believe it or not, I got a couple years on you, Miss V,” he jokes, “so trust me, I know talent when I see it.” 

“Thanks.” 

Silence falls back over the car ride, V taking in what he’s said. He’s blowing smoke, he has to be, she’s not anything special or talented. She just does a job like anyone else. Maybe Bug’s word does mean a lot, but V still can’t say she’s doing anything more than anyone else. 

“One more thing, Miss. V,” Dex says as the car takes a turn, “Quiet life or blaze o' glory?”

She can’t say she has a more concrete answer, still not confident she prefers one to the other. V can’t imagine herself doing anything else, she’s not cut out for it. But, doesn’t mean there aren’t parts of that life she doesn’t crave. Stability, security, and eventually settling down; doesn’t sound too bad. She finds herself thinking of Jackie and Misty. Despite Jackie wanting the blaze of glory, she knows he talks about marrying Misty and having kids one day. His life no more quiet than hers, but he still has plans of becoming a husband and father… 

The car starts to slow, pulling up to the curb around Kabuki Market, construction work scaffolding lining a space between two buildings. 

“Later, now,” Dex gives a short farewell as the car stops and V gets out of the limo, scuffing her boots across the pavement. The limousine pulls away, leaving V alone on the sidewalk. An empt

She tugs her holophone from her pocket, pulling up Jackie’s contact. The first ring barely starts before he’s answering; his face in a video call panel in her mask’s optics. There’s no doubt in her mind that he’s been messed up with anticipation. 

“Just got done chatting with our new fixer.” 

“Heheh. Gordito's a big deal - literally and not, yeah?”

“Intense, but guess I faired alright, wants us to klep some tech, but we got prepwork first.There's this combat bot, military prototype. Maelstrom grabbed it. He paid to take it off their hands and then they had a switch in management.” 

“Right, right, heard about that. Royce versus Brick - hostile takeover.” Jackie’s tone is terse, uneasy. Valentinos and Maelstrom have a history, while Jackie might have left the Heywood gang, it doesn’t mean that history is suddenly gone. 

“Yeah, we got to talk to the new guy, Also gave some details of a Militech agent, in case we could use her to get what we want.” 

“Ehhh, I don’t know about that, chica. Militech’s more likely to cut you throat than cut you a deal.” 

“Not a fan of getting the corp involved either, but I sincerely doubt they’ll just hand it over. And I really don’t want to have to spend eddies on a tech he already bought.” 

“It’s your call V, but I say keep the corpos sidelined.” 

“Well, then there’s the other thing. Client who puts the job on the job wants to meet with me.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Apparently, she’s intent on meeting someone who will be there directly, I got the go ahead.” 

“The fuck is Dex gonna do? Ride around in his limo, chat chicks up on the holo?” 

“Hey, said it yourself, his job means his rules.” 

“Must know what he's doin'… So, how you wanna play this? Maelstrom or Client, what's first?

“Client, she’s the one putting the job on the table. If she doesn’t give us the nod, then there’s no point in risking our neck with Maelstrom.” 

“Orale, In that case, I'll head to All Foods, put my nose to the ground, sniff around. Hasta luego.”

Jackie hangs up and V sucks in a heavy breath; checking the time on her holophone. It’s five, an hour until six which is when Lizzie’s opens up. That alone seems like, an interesting choice on the client’s behalf. A braindance club run by the Mox, one of the only gangs V can say she genuinely likes. It’s made up of mostly sex workers who defend other sex workers. The club is mostly used for people to get braindances of the sex workers; but there’s a bar and dancefloor as well. V and Jackie have been there on gigs before. Not a bad little joint, but she has to wonder if this means the client is a Mox, a joytoy trying to rob Arasaka blind? 

Speculation will get her nowhere, she decides, rubbing her face under her mask. She has some time and she’s not far from where T-Bug said she should pick up her little gift. A layered roof store on the top of two floored structure across the street, a bridge over the road leading her to it. Having to find a stairway outside the marketplace that loops around to the bridge. 

T-Bug sent her to a dark little netrunning shop where a girl wearing dark glasses works at the desk. The exchange doesn’t take long, T-Bug had the clerk save back a Ping quickhack. A fairly basic little daemon that works with V’s mask, contacts, and internal cyberdeck. The clerk lets her play with it, pinging their security camera. Then V’s finding herself leaving the store with barely five minutes killed. 

She fiddles with her phone, considering the Militech woman’s contact. Jackie’s right, not that she needed the reminder that corps are a fucking nightmare. But, the truth is she doesn’t truly know what the hell to do about Maelstrom. They need the bot; Dex made that clear. But the chrome loving  gangoons don't really like to honor their deals, they’d sooner carve out V’s tongue and replace it with a cyber one just to see what happens.  They’re going to expect Jackie and V to pay again. Or they’ll expect a war. And starting a war with a  gang, on their turf, while they’re fresh off robbing a Militech convoy…  Its a death sentence. 

Fuck it, won’t hurt just to meet with the corpo, see if it gives her any ideas. V’s smart enough to handle herself against any corpo bullshit, she decides. Sorry Jackie. She presses the contact and rings Meredith Stout.  In a short moment, the corpo woman’s image is in the video call panel. She looks just as she did in the shard, black formal clothes, slicked blonde hair; though the video panel has a layer of smoke as she puffs away on a cigarette. 

“Stout here. Start by telling me how you got this number,” she says, a cold sharp tone and it sounds like there's a man groaning,  struggling somewhere out of view.

“Little birdy told me you lost a convoy,” V teases, and can see Stout’s expression draw tight, brows furrowed. Then theres another groan, louder and sharper. 

“You! Shut him up!” a smack rings out, “Spill what you know. Don't make me wait.”

“Not over the phone, meet me in person and we’ll cut a deal.” 

“A deal… Fine. First exit off Skyline driving towards the NID. Storm channel under the overpass - meet you there.”

It’s still not that far away, roughly a five minute drive through China Town and up to Northside. Balls deep in Maelstrom territory; meaning Militech must already have an idea of who’s stole their shit. Not that they truly need the tech back, the militarized corp could lose a few hundred tanks and not see a dent in their bottom line. But pride or something. 

She calls her car from her holophone when she reaches the road, her car pulling next to her in just a few moments. V climbs into her car and cringes when the radio turns on as soon as she starts the engine, Jackie’s station of choice coming on. She flips it off and drives, watching as Night City somehow manages to get worse as she gets closer to the meeting spot. Northside, use to be a hub of jobs and opportunity, now its just abandoned buildings covered in Maelstrom graffiti. V would call it the bad part of Night City, if not for every other part of Night City. But it is the biggest eyesore. Hell, Pacifica is a crime infested mess, but at least your mugging will have an ocean view. 

V doesn’t go all the way down below the overpass, choosing not to meet them directly and immediately by going through the tunnel. Instead, she takes a left near Charter Street, going up towards the top of the overpass. She stops as the road is cut off by rickety metal gating, a homeless man passing through. V parks and walks through, there’s a bridge that crosses over the storm channel and she drops to a crouch as she walks over it. Getting a look at what waits for her below. 

A Chevillion Ragnar Militech van; painted sleek black and armored beyond comprehension. Three people; two muscular guards and Meredith. The guards are chipped to hell and back; intensive cyberware. Something to be expected of any Militech employees, especially ones hired for muscle. There’s a small, childish, urge to hop down and surprise them. But that very well could end with her being shot. Instead, she behaves, makes sure her gun is loaded, and takes the stairs down; ill maintained metal steps with chipping yellow paint. 

“Look lively!” Meredith calls out to her men as she catches sight of V, her expression nearly wrinkled with disgust at the sight of the masked merc, but extends her hand, “Meredith Stout. Take it you were the one to call.” 

“That’s me,” V starts to sign with one hand and goes to shake the corpos hand with her other. 

Then a fist collides the side of her head, quick, heavy it shoots pain through her skull. She’s knocked to the side, falling to the ground, stars dance in her vision. She fumbles to get her knife and stand up, but the guard is quicker, grabbing her wrists and yanking her up to her feet, just to wrench her hands behind her back. He’s easily over a foot taller, able to pull the small merc around and hold both wrists in one hand.  Holding V back as Meredith draws closer, gloved hands reaching out and ripping the merc’s mask off, revealing the glowering blonde behind it. 

“Thought you could blackmail me, bitch!” Meredith pushes her fingers into V’s hair,  then yanking and tugging the merc’s head to the side as the guard shoves a jack into her neural port, “Set conditions?! Got any more for me?!”

V spits in Meredith’s face, her skull is white hot with pain between the yank of her hair and the punch. She can’t help but grin, watching her spit stick to to the corpo’s skin. Meredith lets go of V’s hair; reeling her hand back then smacking her across the face, sharp and strong enough to make the merc’s head move. Meanwhile the guard does god knows what, without her mask or contacts, V has no optic interface to tell her what’s being done; what the Militech goon could be doing. 

The van doors open for a second behind Meredith, the other guard yanking a man out of it at gunpoint. A small, weasley guy in a suit with a face bruised black and blue. 

“Christ Meredith!” He yells out.

“Shut your trap!” she looks at the guard holding V,  “That fucking thing ready?

“All set.” 

Leather clad fingers dig into V’s chin, Meredith forcing her head up, no doubt leaving bruises across the merc’s face, “Now answer my questions. Honestly. Forthrightly. Are you here alone?”

“I use ASL,” V forces herself to growl out, blood boiling. Who the fuck does this cunt think she is? Not only has V’s comfort of anonymity been ripped away, but her preferred form of communication is too. 

“Sounds like you speak English just fine to me, now answer my fucking question, are you here alone!?” 

“Yes. You crazy fuckin’ cunt, I’m here alone!” 

“Its the truth,” the guard says, a fucking lie detector, of course. 

“Do a sweep, now,” Meredith commands and a silver drone leaves the back of the van. 

“Now listen close. This piece of shit,” she looks at her other captive, “Anthony Gilchrist is he your contact? Is he the one who leaked intel on the convoy?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” 

“You answer to me bitch, Anthony Gilchrist!”

“Got no fuckin’ clue who he is or why I’m suppose to give a shit!” 

“Checks out,” the guard tells Meredith. 

“Came here cause I know who jacked the convoy, where the tech is.” 

“Hmmm,” Meredith hums. 

“I told you, I fucking told you, I’m not the mole!” Anthony screams out. 

“Shut him up!” 

“Unhand me now before I-- ungh!” Without another word Anthony is shoved back into the van. 

“Her, you can let go. I wanna hear what she has to say.” 

The guard rips the jack out from her neuroport and lets go of her wrists. The skin is bruises she notices as she grabs her mask off the ground, the snaps thankfully not broken as she slides it back on, tension in her shoulders easily only slightly with her face covered and arms free. 

“We’re a little beyond that now, don’t you think,” Meredith remarks snidely, rolling her eyes. 

“Fuck you,” V signs first thing. 

“Stop wasting my god damn time, what do you want?” 

“Gang has your tech, given where we are, I assume you know which one.  All I want is one combat bot from it, thought we could help each out, but I’m not so sure.” 

“Hmm, you have a plan of how to deal with them?” 

“They’re expecting payment, but I don’t have the eddies laying around.” 

“Course you don’t,” Meredith quips and V rolls her eyes. 

“So, without cash, the option is to take it by force.” 

“You’ll pay, but with our money.” 

Meredith holds out a credchip shard, little chips that hold a certain amount of cash on them. V chews the inside of her cheek, looking at the green shard held in a gloved hand, it seems too good to be true. Because it certainly is. But, she takes the credchip. 

“You pay with that chip, and that's all you gotta worry about. Try to fuck me in any way, and I'll be seeing you real soon,” Meredith delivers a final threat before climbing into the van, her last guard clambering into the drivers seat. 

“You're making a mistake,” Anthony screams from inside the van as it takes off “This cunt's already good as dead! And she'll take you down with her!”

And then they’re gone; V left with a bruised face, a tender scalp, and a credchip in her hands. Jackie was right, she’s sure, god knows aligning with corps isn’t her way of doing things.  There’s no way in hell, a Militech rep is just going to hand off ten grand without a plan. 

V takes quick and steady steps back up the stairs and she sees it as she gets above the storm channel. The Militech drone, still hovering. Following her, tracking her. Her hands on her pistol in the next second, promptly shooting the drone down in sputtering sparks. Meredith can fuck off if she thinks V is just going to lead them to the Maelstrom hideout. 

The assault and interaction bit up a chunk of time, so she climbs back into her car, time to meet the client. Anxiety pitted tight in her gut as she drives back down the Night City roads. 

[angelictaehyun]

𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

“You know, there’s a decent chance only one of us is going to survive the night, and it’s going to be you.”

Across the sizzling campfire, Soobin pointedly glared at you. Your best friend dragged you out camping, despite your protesting, promising you’d have fun; surprise, surprise, you weren’t. You folded your knee into your chest, lazily resting your head atop it.

“Look, the forest is safe, this wouldn’t be a major camping site if it weren’t,” he tried reasoning.

God, your stubbornness was maddening.

He clicked his tongue, his favorite way of shaming you, before tossing you a marshmallow. You held your toasting stick in one hand, the other fervently clutching onto a mosquito-squatter. You scanned the environment around you, looking out for any off-putting, hazardous sign of a threat. Suddenly, as if on cue, a strong gust of wind killed the fire, leaving you both in the dark.

Naturally, you shrieked and flung yourself onto Soobin, clinging to his flannel.

“This is bad. This is really bad,” he mumbled, glancing at his phone, “apparently, a storm is moving in.”

“You’re telling me, you didn’t think to check the weather channel before dragging us out into the middle of the forest, an hour away from home?”

He laughed nervously, “... No.”

You nearly bit his head off.

“Let’s just... go sleep in the car,” he suggested, packing up the equipment beside him. He returned to the tent, chuckling at your eagerness to follow him—you didn’t fear darkness, but you certainly feared it in the wilderness. You glued yourself to him as he hastily collapsed his tent, the rain beginning to trickle.

“Y/N, get off of me,” he whined, prying you off his side, despite his fluttering heart. You huffed childishly, let go, and made yourself useful, of course, at a close distance—you didn’t want to stray too far from him. You’d packed everything into the trunk, and in less than a minute, the rain began pouring, soaking you both.

“Great! We’re going to sleep in wet clothing!”

“You know, I told you to bring an extra t-shirt but no, you’re too stubborn to listen to me!” he exclaimed. You sulked in his car, huffing, a second away from smacking him, “God! I didn’t want to be here! You burst into my apartment, camping gear in hand, and dragged my half-asleep body out of bed at six in the morning! No wonder I’m unprepared!”

He didn’t like admitting it, but you were right. A few months ago, he’d developed confusing, complicated feelings for you, and he hoped to make light of them on this trip. He completely spaced, forgetting your aversion to camping, and just nature, in general.

“Gimme your hoodie, I know you have one. Oh, here’s one!” you pointed, picking up his spare hoodie he kept in his car. He conceded, snatching his hoodie out of your hand, replacing it with his plain gray t-shirt, “Just sleep in my damn shirt.”

You smiled victoriously. You didn’t protest, you loved wearing his clothing. He chucked the t-shirt at your face and turned around, allowing you privacy as you stripped your soaked tank and threw on his dry shirt; instantly, his familiar, comforting, sage scent surrounded you.

“Done.”

He slowly turned, blushing at the sight of you in his clothing, though, the darkness easily hid his flustered expression. It was hard to sleep in the backseat, especially since his giant-self took up the entirety of the small, cramped space. You curled yourself into a ball, clutching at Soobin’s shirt, watching his chest steadily rise and fall. He stayed silent, circling an arm around your waist. You rested your head on top of his heart, “Hey, Bin... I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass.”

“S’ok, I’m sorry for not checking the weather.”

“It’s okay.”

He felt calm, a sharp contrast to the raging storm outside. He smiled into your damp hair, pulling you closer to him and holding you tight. You didn’t understand why, but your heartbeat sped up. Suddenly, being wrapped in your best friend’s embrace, you didn’t feel as scared anymore.

[out-of-jams]

Press Play || knj

Summary: You didn’t mean to. Didn’t intend to fall in love with a dying man.

                         Pairing: Namjoon x Reader.                       

                         Word count: 9k

                         Warnings/Genre: Fluff, alluded smut, cursing, angst, character death.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

                               | | Masterlist | |

Beep. Beep. Beep.

With a sigh, you shifted on the uncomfortable chair’s hard plastic. It creaked beneath your weight in protest, as if judging you for the powdered donut pressed to your lips. The obnoxious beeping from the heart monitor belonging to the patient behind the curtain next to you continued on, blaring loudly over the annoyance wafting off you in waves.

You hated hospitals, hated everything about them. From the sterile smell of disinfectant, to the unnecessarily bright walls and fluorescent lighting, and all the way to the way the stench of disappointment hovered right on the precipice of hope. The sound of footfalls could be heard from outside the door of the room, left half-open as if to try and air out the reek of hopelessness.

Another breath of hot air left your lips as you attempted to relax further back into the chair that apparently had some sort of vendetta against your numb rear. The crinkle of the plastic wrapped mini donuts was the only sound that could be heard over the beeping of the heart monitor behind the curtain. The white sheeted bed to the left of you was empty, the covers drawn down messily.

Somewhere in the cold building they called a hospital was your sister, hooked up to the same machine that was trying to save her life, only to pump deadly chemicals into her bloodstream. She’d left you alone thirty minutes ago, practically stiff arming you into staying behind while she got treatment. Soohee, your sister, absolutely refused to allow you to see her in what she liked to joke was her cyborg form.

Even though the joke made no sense, you didn’t have it in you to refuse anything that came out of her mouth. Especially when that request came at the cost of you not having to witness her skin turn a sickly, pallor white while the machine at her side filtered her body with the white hot fire that they called medicine.

While your tongue flickered across your lips to collect the white powdered sugar at the corner of your mouth, you hand stayed busy absentmindedly scrolling through your Instagram feed. It was right as you were liking a vacation picture of some old highschool acquaintance that the door to the room swung the rest of the way open. Just like the chair under your ass, the door protested at the movement.

You were going to ignore it, you really were. You knew it couldn’t be your sister, seeing as how she still had a little ways to go to finish her treatment. But a flash of silver caught at the corner of your eye and refused to let go. So there you were, the final half of your last powdered donut pressed to your parted lips, that you saw it. No, not it.

Him.

He shuffled through the door in a pair of white slippers the same shade as the boring walls, with one hand holding on to the IV pole wheeling along beside him. Dressed in a pair of comfortable looking black sweatpants and a baggy grey hoodie, the boy’s attention was somewhere over his shoulder. You couldn’t make out any facial features from the way he was turned, but his mop of messily styled silver hair caught the fluorescent light almost teasingly. His tan skin that poked out from the sleeves of his hoodie looked a little pale, the veins in his hand standing out as it grasped onto the IV pole.

“Really, don’t worry.” Even without seeing his face, you knew that his voice matched him perfectly. It was deep, but with a rasp to it that made it soft around the edges. “I’ll be fine.”

Somewhere outside of the room someone responded. Your ears couldn’t make out who it was or what they said, but the slightly high pitched lilt of the voice told you it was female. A nurse, probably. Or a doctor. Whatever, that wasn’t really what was important. What was important, however, was the scratchy chuckle that flowed from the boy’s mouth like water.

“Promise.” He lifted his free hand in a wave, jokingly shooing whoever was on the other side of the door. “I’ll ring if I need anything.”

The nurse, or doctor, or shaman, or whoever the hell it was, must have taken the boy’s word because his hand reached out to draw the door back to its half-shut position. You really should have averted your eyes, or politely looked away or something as he finally turned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You didn’t believe in love at first sight or in soulmates or whatever mumbo-jumbo bullshit people liked to put their faith in to feel less lonely. Attraction at first sight though? You definitely believed in that. It was hard not to. Especially when your eyes caught the dark brown ones of the boy standing in the doorway.

Almonds. That was your first thought. Almonds that had been left out to sit in the sun for too long and now radiated warmth. He may not have had long eyelashes that brushed gently against the apple of his cheeks or whatever stupid bull that was written on the pages of romance novels. But god, he didn’t need them anyway.

Your second thought was of the perfectly shaped slope of his nose right above plush pink lips. And the natural golden, sunkissed hue of his skin that should have clashed with the color of his hair, but somehow didn’t.

His ears were pierced. Small silver hoops dangled from his earlobes, catching the light. Not all men could pull of the whole pierced ear thing without looking like a giant, raging douchebag, but somehow he managed to make it look soft, handsome even.

The boy stood frozen in the doorway like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in surprise. He must not have been expecting to see you there. Not when the room was normally empty or at the very least usually had the curtains around the few occupied beds drawn closed in a semblance of privacy. He must have been new. You’d never seen him before.

“Uh,” the sound left his lips as he blinked slowly, short eyelashes dark against his skin. “Hello.”

God, he must have been freaked out by the weird ass girl with powdered sugar clinging to her lips with the staring problem. But it wasn’t like you could help it. Not like it was everyday that you got the privilege to lay eyes on a boy--no, man--who looked like he could grace the cover of GQ magazine.

His voice snapped you out of your silent analyzation and you gave your head a light shake to bring yourself back to the present. You lifted your fingers in a little wave with the hand still holding on to the mini donut, powder flaking off onto the hard tiled floor. “Hey.”

He gave an awkward smile at that. Either he didn’t know how to respond or didn’t have the desire to. Because that was the end of that short conversation. With a small nod of his head, the man shuffled further into the room, the squeak of the wheels of his IV pole trailing after him.

Your eyes dropped from him at that point so that he didn’t think you were some sort of weirdo. But you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye while you pretended to scroll through Instagram again. It wasn’t like the beach photos from Gabby’s vacation four months ago could spark your interest anyway. Especially not while the first splash of radiant color that you’d seen in that dreary hospital shambled towards the bed right across from you.

How cliché.

It would have been at least, if the man’s slipper hadn’t caught on the edge of his IV pole. With a yelp of surprise, the man stumbled forward, free arm pinwheeling in attempt to regain his balance. Whatever backwater physics he was trying to pull failed him and down he went, sprawling across the full-sized mattress with limbs splayed in the most undignified manner you’d ever seen.

He’d somehow managed to drag the pole down with him. It rang loudly as it fell half-onto the bed and the floor, the bag of fluids swinging wildly. One of the man’s slippers left his foot with the fall to take shelter underneath the metal bed frame.

The deathly silence that overtook the room was brief, but voluminous.

“Are you okay?”

You shot to your feet, almost empty donut package forgotten as it fell. The soles of your shoes scuffed against the tiled floor as you raced over to his side of the room. You stopped at the foot of his bed, hands awkwardly hovering over his prone form.

He was tall. So tall that his legs hung halfway off the bed and dragged against the floor. His lips were parted in surprise as he gaped at the IV pole like it’d insulted his mother. Like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

“Blink once for yes, twice for no.” Your concerned voice must have snapped him out of the confused daze he’d been left in, because he blinked once and lifted his eyes to you. “Ah, I’ll take that as a yes then.”

“Yeah. I’m..,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you, Yeah.” The corner of your lips perked in amusement at your own joke, eyes trained on him as he scrambled to sit up. “Sure you’re okay? Need me to call someone?”

“I’m okay.” He finally regained his balance to sit up properly, feet planted firmly on the floor: one slippered and one bare. His slendered hands reached out to return the IV pole to its proper upright position. Though he kept his eyes averted from you, likely in an attempt to hide the heated pink blooming across his cheeks.

“You sure, Yeah?” You crossed your arms across your chest. The fabric of your denim jacket did little to chase away the cold air conditioning that the hospital somehow insisted be blasted on high at all times.

“Namjoon.” His voice sounded muffled as he bent over to retrieve the lost slipper underneath the bed.

“What?” The tilt of your head couldn’t be helped as you stared down at him in confusion. A golden ring on one of his fingers caught your attention as he slipped his footwear back on.

“My name.” The man finally looked up at you, a small smile tilting at the corners of his plush lips. “It’s Namjoon. Not Yeah.”

“You sure?” The expression on your face was deadly serious, mouth pursed. “I think Yeah kind of suits you. Very unique.”

The man, Namjoon, lifted a dark eyebrow in response. His smile grew in amusement, forcing the two dimples on his cheeks out of hiding. “You saying I’m unique?”

Namjoon’s warm eyes glistened teasingly and now it was your turn to feel warmth blossom across your face and down your neck. You cleared your throat. “Well, you sure know how to make an entrance, that’s for sure.”

Eyes widened in shock at the words that just spewed from your lips, you clamped your jaw shut. Why the universe had cursed you with the sarcastic humor of a bitter 90 year-old widow, you had no idea. But wow, talk about putting your foot in your mouth. With an internal cringe, you waited with bated breath at the offended look that was sure to overtake his face.

Namjoon groaned, both hands covering his face in embarrassment. He didn’t explode in anger however. A chuckle left his lips and he shook his head back and forth like he could wipe the memory from his mind. “Please pretend you never saw that.”

You sucked in air through your teeth jokingly and shrugged in fake apology. “Sorry, no can do, dude. It’s seared into my brain. Cursed to forever play on repeat.”

“Talk about embarrassing.” Namjoon’s voice was muffled by the palms of his hands.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” You leaned your thighs against the metal bed frame, hands finding the pockets of your jacket. “I’ve seen worse here, trust me.”

Those seemed like the magic words, because Namjoon finally freed himself from the cage of his fingers and lifted his eyes back to yours. His dark eyebrows shot into the messy bangs that shifted with his fall and now fell across his forehead. “Worse? What could have possibly been more embarrassing than what just happened?”

“Well,” your tongue ran across your lips, eyes raising to the white ceiling in memory. “There’s this old woman in one of the rooms a few doors down. I’ve heard some of the residents call her Crazy Shorts Cathy, but between you and me, I think that’s kinda rude.”

“Crazy Shorts Cathy?” Namjoon interrupted your story with a snort of amusement. “Why do they call her that?”

“Trust me, once you see her, you’ll know.” You nodded sagely, a smile gracing your lips as you reached up to twirl a piece of your hair around a finger absentmindedly. “But anyway, back to the topic at hand. So, Crazy Shorts Cathy had surgery a little while ago. And afterwards she was so doped up on anesthesia that she was somehow convinced that she was a medieval knight.

“Poor woman tried to joust the nurses with an IV pole. Caused a huge commotion in the hall. Like, there were doctors and nurses everywhere trying to wrestle the pole from her without opening her fresh stitches. So many casualties. Too many. May they rest in peace.”

A loud laugh left Namjoon, filling the cold room with warmth. It didn’t sound like bells, or windchimes or some other stupid romantic simile. No, Namjoon’s laugh was a roaring, throaty ha-ha-ha! Like it couldn’t leave his lips without forming each syllable perfectly.

“What?” His eyes were wide in disbelief, staring up at you with shoulders shaking in laughter.

Your own ugly, obnoxious laugh joined his, sounding more like a squeaky toy than anything else. That only seemed to spur his amusement further until no sound left him, just quiet intakes of air as he completely lost himself. Namjoon was bent over at the waist, elbows braced against his knees and eyes squeezed shut with mirth.

“That can’t--” He had to pause in order to get the breath to speak. “That can’t be true.”

With teeth biting into your bottom lip to try and contain your giggles, you shook your head. “It’s not.”

“What?” Namjoon lifted his gaze back to you, eyes shining with unshed tears of glee. He pointed a finger at you and tried his hardest to give you a stern look, but the silent laughter shaking his chest gave him away. “You lied!”

“Ah.” You pointed your own finger back at him. “But I made you feel better though. Just don’t tell Crazy Shorts Cathy that I’ve been soiling her name.”

“Oh, so she’s real?”

“She most definitely is.” You nodded in fake seriousness.

A short silence overtook the room once again. But instead of being filled with awkward air, it was comfortable, infused with a homey warmth that threatened to chase away the chilled ice of the air conditioning.

“Hey.” Namjoon’s voice had sobered and he leaned back on the bed on his hands, head tilted back to look at where you still stood at the foot of the bed. “You never told me your name.”

You simply shrugged one shoulder in response. “Maybe I’m the mysterious type.”

He snorted, silver hoop earrings glinting teasingly. “Mysterious people don’t go around telling people that they’re mysterious. That kind of goes against the whole ‘mystery’ thing.”

“Does it?” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully, slowly shuffling backwards and towards your  abandoned hard plastic chair.

“It definitely does.” Namjoon sat back up properly at your retreat, a frown pulling down the corners of his lips. “Where are you going?”

“That’s a mystery, Namjoon.” You were almost there, feet away from your sister’s bed.

“Ah, of course.” He nodded knowingly, as if you’d just told him the answers to the universe. “Whatever you say, Sugar.”

That halted your feet. “Sugar?”

Namjoon hummed and shifted himself on the bed so that he could lie down properly, even though the bottoms of his slippers still hung over the bed. Long-legged giant that he was. “That’s what I’ll call you.”

Your eyebrows drew together in confusion, head tilting to the side like a dog waiting for a command. “Why Sugar?”

He tapped the corner of his mouth and his eyes glinted with amusement once again. Your own widened as you quickly reached up to brush away the powdered sugar still clinging to your face.

God damnit. Talk about embarrassing yourself. “Please pretend you never saw that.”

Namjoon simply propped himself up on the wall behind his bed.  “Sorry, no can do, Sugar. It’s seared into my brain. Cursed to forever play on repeat.”

You groaned, foot stomping against the floor in protest at his mocking words. How dare he. “I cannot stand you.”

His plush lips parted to give a retort, but Namjoon was abruptly cut off as the door to the room swung open. Your attention was immediately pulled away from the adonis across the room and to the girl that stumbled through the door.

Whatever fire that Namjoon had ignited in the room with his presence disappeared with the entrance of your sister. Her pale skin seemed even more sickly underneath the ugly fluorescent lights. The top of her head was covered with a pretty pink, sparkly scarf, as if the bright pop of color could somehow chase away her sickness. And the grey sweats and matching sweater she wore that drowned her tiny frame did nothing to help either.

Soohee sent you a shaky smile once she caught your eyes. She dragged her own IV pole behind her as she slowly shuffled inside. You met her halfway, arms extended to wrap around her and guide her back to her bed.

“I’m fine, really.” She tried to reassure you, but the weak, frail way her voice left her throat told you otherwise. Soohee followed without further protest however, and let you tuck her into bed until the covers were pulled up to her chin.

Your fingers brushed the end of her scarf away from her face with gentle fingers. “You should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Soohee rolled her eyes, but let them slip closed anyway. Her treatment always seemed to suck the energy right out of her until only a lifeless shell remained.

With a sigh, you leaned back once more into your uncomfortable chair. Your eyes flickered up to glance at Namjoon, only to see him with his head on his pillow and a book open between his propped up knees. The cords of white headphones flowed from his ears and connected to his phone in order to give you a semblance of privacy.

As you distractedly thumbed through Instagram once again with eyes glazed over, you couldn’t help your thoughts from circling around the man across the room.                                         

Silence greeted your ears as you slowly pushed the door open. It let out a squeak and you grimaced at the sound, turning your gaze to glare at the rusty hinges. You’d think that someone would have fixed that already, but alas, noisy doors weren’t exactly a priority in a busy hospital.

Your eyes lifted to scan around the room, the curtains around all of the beds were closed, shielding the residents from view. The tips of your boots creased as you tip-toed into the room, slowly closing the door behind you. Whether the occupants were awake or asleep you didn’t know, but it was the thought that counted at least.

The charms on the bracelet clasped around your wrist shook as you reached up to brush back your sister’s curtain. All of the lights above her bed were shut off and you could just barely make out her figure underneath the pile of blankets on her bed. As you shuffled to your normal seat, you couldn’t help but reach out to gently brush your fingers against her prone form.

The time on your phone read that it was only 3:37 pm. While that wasn’t exactly prime time for sleeping, you knew your sister tended to take frequent naps due to the exhaustion that constantly overtook her.

Your jeans hit the cold, plastic chair as you slid the bag on your back to the floor at your feet. You tried your best to muffle the sound of the zipper in order to pull out your laptop. There was a seven page English paper just begging to be written. Well, the paper wasn’t begging, but the 11:59 due date definitely was. And of course you hadn’t even started.

It wasn’t until the small digital clock in the corner of your laptop read 4:53pm that you finally heard a noise other than the clicking of your laptop keys. Your fingers paused, hovering over the keyboard as you heard the sound again.

A curtain sliding open.

You tried your best to ignore the feeling of...something pulling at your chest and set your laptop carefully on your chair once you stood up. The soles of your boots squeaked as you snuck over to the curtain and peered out. Across the room stood the very person that had been unrelentingly having a one man show in your thoughts since the day previous.

Namjoon stood next to his bed, hands patting the pockets of his Adida joggers in search for something. A grey beanie was on his head, unknowingly matching the same shade of his hair until both blended into each other. The too-long sleeves of his red hoodie hid half of his hands from view as he continued to search for whatever it was that he’d lost.

A noise left the back of his throat as he finally located the wallet that he pulled out from in between his bed sheets. He slipped it into his pocket and turned abruptly, coming to halt as he caught you peering at him from behind the curtain. Your eyes widened in surprise, having not expected him to turn so quickly. And once again, you felt the burning heat of a blush spread across your cheeks.

Namjoon’s mouth quirked up at having caught you. “Hey.”

His voice was quieted in an attempt to not disturb anyone. But god, someone really should have told him that he was shit at whispering.

Your hand rose on its own accord, fingers wiggling in a wave. “Hey.”

Namjoon slowly made his way over to you with his hands in his pockets, this time wearing actual shoes instead of hospital slippers. “How long have you been here?”

“A while.” You finally slipped free of the curtain separating the two of you, head tilting back in order to maintain eye contact.

He hummed and jerked his head towards the door in silent invitation. “You hungry, Sugar?”

 “Maybe you should wear a bib.”

Namjoon glanced up from his tray of lukewarm hospital food to give you a dry look. But you only raised an eyebrow in response and glanced pointedly down at the barbeque sauce stain that now graced the fabric of his hoodie. The piece of chicken that he’d speared onto his fork was barely hanging on for dear life, threatening to take a nosedive onto the wood table at any moment.

“Maybe you should take your own advice, Sugar.” Namjoon smirked at the feigned insulted look on your face. His deep, raspy voice threatened to drown itself in the loud chatter of the hospital cafeteria and you had to lean a little closer to hear it clearly.

People were scattered throughout the room, queuing behind glass covered food and seating themselves in the tacky chairs and booths. Whoever designed the cafeteria must have been going for a 70s-disco-meets-retirement-home look. It took all you had to keep the high school lunch-esque pepperoni pizza down.

Why hospital food had to be as depressing as the atmosphere, you had no idea.

“I came here to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” The cardboard, plastic free straw of your chocolate milk was pressed between your lips.

“Uh-huh.” Namjoon shrugged. “Then I rescind my invitation.”

With a fake gasp of anguish, you slammed your container of choco milk down onto your tray, just narrowly missing the edge. “But then who will I grace with my clever, astounding wit?”

He tilted his head side-to-side as if contemplating your question. With a hum, Namjoon finally, finally saved the piece of chicken on his fork by shoving it into his mouth.

“Crazy Shorts Cathy.”

Namjoon just had to say that right as you were taking a sip of milk. He did it on purpose and you knew it.

You couldn’t help the snort of laughter at his stupid joke, which of course, caused the milk to get caught in the back of your throat mid-swallow. A yelp left your lips at the cooling sensation of milk shooting from your nose. Coughing, you covered your face with one hand and hastily reached over for a napkin from the pile in the center of the table.

Namjoon’s obnoxious ha-ha-ha! drew curious onlookers and you hurriedly attempted to wipe up your embarrassment before it could further stain your non-existent reputation. The silver haired man was bent over, elbows and hands supporting his weight against the table as he laughed himself into hysterics.

“You did that on purpose!” You dropped the used napkins onto your tray and glared up at him. Or you tried to at least. It was hard to stay mad at a man that laughed like a happy baby.

“Maybe you should wear a bib.” Namjoon only slipped harder into laughter at the unamused look on your face.

But the accompanying smile slowly slipped from your face as his laughter turned into coughing. And then the coughing turned into vicious hacking, until the hands that once braced himself against the table now clung to the edge to dear life.

“Namjoon?” You questioned, concern lacing your tone as worry began to take over as his coughs ceased to end.

He shook his head, reaching out to grab up a handful of napkins to press against his mouth. Leaning across the table, you laid a hand on his one that was still grabbing at the table, eyes wide and panic catching in your throat. “Namjoon!”

The man shook his head once again, attempting to take deep breaths to stop the coughs from racking his frame. You were about two seconds away from jumping up from the table to try and help him somehow when he finally stopped. The coughs turned into wheezing and then finally ceased altogether.

“Namjoon?” His name left your lips once again. You tried to catch his eye, but he averted his gaze to a flower print booth across the cafeteria.

“I’m fine.” Namjoon’s voice came out scratchy, the normal rasp accented into something deeper. He took a deep, shuddering breath and moved the now crumpled napkins away from his mouth.

“You sure?” The knit of your brows spoke of your concern for him, lips parted and voice quiet.

“Yeah.” He sent you a weak smile, finally lifting his gaze to yours and dropping the crumpled up napkins onto his tray. “What were we talking about?”

It wouldn’t take a genius to see it. The same look that sometimes graced your sister’s eyes shone in his. A pleading, begging look for you to just forget about what happened and move on. To ignore what you’d just witnessed as if that would somehow erase the memory from your mind.

A smile that didn’t meet your eyes lifted your lips. “Crazy Shorts Cathy.”

“What are you reading?”  

Namjoon glanced up from where he was lounging across his bed, back pressed up against the headboard. His warm eyes met yours as you sat on the end of his bed, legs folded under yourself. Your fingers had paused on the keyboard of your laptop, lips pouted in a desperate attempt at drawing the man into conversation.

“You already asked me that.” Namjoon flapped his book and raised an eyebrow. His plush lips lifted in amusement as you huffed and leaned your head back to glare into the ceiling. “Three times.”

“Amuse me.”

“Paper that rough?”

You finally moved your harsh glare from the ceiling and to the man across from you. Eyes softening unknowingly, your shoulders jerked up in a half-assed shrug. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Namjoon chuckled in amusement, now raising both eyebrows to give you the look. His bullshit detector look. You’d been on the receiving end of it a multitude of times throughout the month that you’d known each other.

A mumbled response left your lips accompanied by a put upon sigh.

“What was that, Sugar? You’ll have to speak up. Couldn’t hear you over all that grumbling.”

With a stretch of your leg, your kicked at his thigh playfully with a socked foot. “I just don’t understand why a 10 page paper is necessary. Who gives a flying fuck about why some stupid author transformed his stupid character into a cockroach.”

“Stupid author?” You didn’t even have to open your eyes to see the look he was giving you.

“Sorry,” though the grin that overtook your face negated your apology. “Did I offend thee, thine book nerd?”

Instead of receiving a verbal answer, you felt the tickling pressure of Namjoon’s fingers against the bottom of your foot. With a squeal, you jerked your foot back out of his range.

“Hey! You know I’m ticklish, you traitor!” You ignored Namjoon’s laughter to send him a glare instead. Who cared if it lacked heat? It would get the point across anyway.

He merely rolled his eyes before placing his bookmark into the spine of the book and slipping it closed. The glossy cover hit the end table next to his bed and he reached out a hand to wave you over.

“Come here.”

“All the way over there?” You really hoped the sarcastic tone of your voice drowned out the loud pounding of your heart beating against your rib cage. Hoped that it hid the butterflies that took flight in your stomach.

“Yes, all the way over here.” Namjoon wiggled his fingers in invitation. “Or do you want to keep writing your paper?”

The lid of your laptop closed in response to his question and you shifted to your knees to slowly crawl your way to the head of the bed. With the mattress dipping at your weight, you settled on top of the rumpled blanket and leaned your back against the wall to mirror him.

While you’d been friends with Namjoon for weeks, that was the closest you two had been in proximity to each other. If you shared the same bed, you’d be at one end and he’d be at the other. Not side by side. Not so close that the skin exposed by his short sleeved shirt brushed against yours. Not so close that you could smell the scent of fresh laundry that wafted off of him.

You weren’t sure whether you wanted your sister to wake up from her nap or not. Weren’t sure if you should be feeling how you were feeling. Weren’t sure whether the frantic beating of your heart was from the way Namjoon’s voice caressed your eardrums, or if it was from fear.

“Here.”

Held in between his slender fingers was one end of his earphones. The other was already pressed into his ear closest to you. You took his offer without hesitation, pushing the bud into your ear until half of the white noise in the room disappeared.

“What are we watching?” You asked, eyes tracking as his thumbs flicked across the bright screen of his phone held up between you.

“Not watching.” Namjoon opened up Apple music and didn’t even pause to read over the song titles like he could navigate his playlist blindly. “Listening.”

“What are we listening to then?”

His thumb finally stopped on whatever song it was that he was looking for. Seeing him move to look at you out of the corner of your eye had you turning to meet his gaze. His almond eyes shone with something, something, before his dimples revealed themselves with a smile.

“Just listen.” The warmth of his voice blended in with the gentle, melancholy song that drifted in from your end of the earphones.

You slipped your eyes closed in an attempt to block out Namjoon’s soft, soft, soft look and concentrate on the harmonizing vocals. At least that’s what you told yourself. Your head found his shoulder, bringing with it the scent of his warmth.

And if his cheek pressed onto the top of your head and his breath ghosted the baby hairs brushing your forehead, well, at least your eyes weren’t open to witness the heavy sigh leaving his lips.

But you could feel it.

You could feel it.

Something.                                                   

“I’m so sorry for ever doubting you.”

The disbelief in Namjoon’s tone was almost palpable. You leaned back into the vending machine behind you, back pressed to the glass and shoulders shaking as you held back a laugh. Namjoon’s expression mirrored his tone, dark eyes wide and mouth gaping.

You hummed, unscrewing the cap of your iced tea to take a sip. “I told you. But you didn’t believe me.”

“I-” Namjoon’s voice stuttered in his throat as the topic of you conversation passed by once again.

With long salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a low ponytail, the short woman pushed open the door across from the alcove of vending machines. She looked normal, sounded normal, hell, even smelled like normal flowery perfume. But the knee length shorts covered in a multitude of rainbow colored horses spoke otherwise. The door shut behind her, taking both her perfume and loud shorts with her.

“Holy shit.”

Pushing off of the vending machine, you reached up and closed Namjoon’s gaping mouth with a finger. His wide eyes flickered over to you as you leaned in close as if telling him a secret. You told yourself that you didn’t care when his gaze moved to your mouth for the briefest moments. Told yourself that he didn’t lean his head closer to yours. Told yourself that you didn’t want to close the distance and see for yourself if his lips were as soft as they looked.

“If you want.” Your lowered voice brought Namjoon’s attention back to your eyes. “I can buy you a pair.”

Namjoon groaned in exasperation as you leaned back onto the heels of your shoes, hands clasped behind your back, eyes wide and expression innocent.  

“Let’s leave the crazy shorts to Crazy Shorts Cathy please.”

Your laugh echoed down the hospital hallway, drawing glances from some of the passing nurses. But you ignored them in favor of the fake annoyed expression that crossed Namjoon’s face. For the soft smile that graced his lips. For the way his tongue caressed your name to pull you back to the hospital room.

For the way your heart pounded a tattoo into your rib cage. 

“Joon.” Your voice was whispered, stretching out across the nonexistent space between your bodies.

“Hm?” Namjoon’s sleep filled hum filled the darkness encompassing the room. The curtain hiding the two of you blocked out the light from underneath the hospital room door. Soft breaths could be heard from the few occupied beds in the room, accompanied by the beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor hiding behind another curtained section.

The blanket thrown over the both of your shoulders shifted as you turned onto your side. Barely, just barely, you could make out Namjoon’s profile in the dark. The soft slope of his nose turned a little in your direction as you moved.

“Why..,” you took a breath, voice fading as you tried to find the words that failed you.

Namjoon’s fingers trailed a line of fire against your shoulder, his thumb drawing light circles onto your skin. The sound of his heartbeat was calming and you slowly inhaled his comforting scent, the soft cotton of his shirt caressing your cheek.

“Why?” He prompted. You felt the deep rumble of his chest more than you heard his actual words.

“You never told me.” The fingers of the hand thrown across his waist plucked at his shirt helplessly. “Why you’re here.”

Silence.

The beeping of the heart monitor.

A sigh.

“Sugar.”

You shook your head as much as you could with your limited range of movement. The fingers of your hand fisted the material of his shirt, bunching it in a way that you knew would wrinkle. “No. Don’t coddle me.”

“I’m not--”

“You are.” Your nose met the soft skin of his neck, the warm breath of your words causing him to shudder. “We’ve known each other for six months. You know you can tell me anything.”

Namjoon’s fingers halted their movement against your shoulder. He let out another sigh, turning his face and burying it into the top of your head. “I can’t.”

“Why?” If your voice broke, neither of you mentioned it.

“Because, Sugar.” He threaded his fingers into your hair, burrowing themselves in the glossy strands. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

“Please, Joon.” The words were more of a shaky exhale than anything else. “Please.”

Namjoon’s chest shuddered. His nose buried itself further into your hair, his lips brushing the crown of your head. The silence was stifling, lingering so long that you thought he wouldn’t respond. Thought he would deny you of the one answer that had been tormenting your mind for months. That had been mixing fear into the euphoria that churned your stomach.

But finally, finally his voice met your ears. And you’d never wished for someone to take back words more than right then, in the darkness pressed to his chest.

“Cancer. Lung cancer.” Namjoon’s fingers tightened in your hair to where it was almost painful. But you couldn’t complain, couldn’t move away. Forced to face reality. “Terminal.”

“Joon.”

“Sugar.”  

“Why don’t you do chemotherapy? I’ve never seen you go. You’ve never--”

“Sugar.”

“It could help. It could--”

“Sugar.”

The hitch of your breath brushed the skin of his neck and your fingers tangled themselves even further into his shirt. As if that could somehow force him to take the words back. Force the reality back into something else. Anything else.

“It won’t help.” Namjoon’s lips pressed to your forehead and they lingered before he pulled away. But only so he could pull you harder against him. “It won’t do anything. I’m too far gone.”

“How long?” You weren’t sure if you wanted to know. But you needed to. Had to.

“A few months, maybe. At least that’s what the doctor says.”

Not even the beeping of the heart monitor could drown out the cries that fell from your lips. The salty tears that left a trail of anguish down his neck. The sound of your heart slowly breaking. 

The soft scritch-scritch-scritch of pencil on paper filled the room. It was almost masked by the hard beat that bled from the speakers of Namjoon’s phone.

“Stop corrupting my little sister.” Your voice was filled with amusement as you looked up from the book open on your lap. Something that you normally wouldn’t have read, but did so at Namjoon’s insistence.

The gray haired man sent you a smile, dimples revealing themselves. It was bright in the room for once. The curtains spread across the window looking outside that were normally closed were pushed open to let in the sunlight. It filtered in, bringing its warmth with it.

Namjoon shifted in his hard plastic chair, amused eyes throwing you a look that said not my fault. “Hey, she’s the one that told me to put this on.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to listen to her.”

“She can make her own decisions, thank you very much.” Soohee didn’t look up from the sketch pad settled across her lap. The pencil in her hand continued to move as she drew the portrait of the main sitting in a chair at the foot of her bed.

“She also has taste.” Namjoon didn’t even try to hide the cheeky smile he sent your way.

“You saying I don’t have taste?” You narrowed your eyes at the man as the opening sound of another 2Pac song flowed from his shitty phone speakers.

Namjoon’s eyes creased into half-moons as a blinding grin graced his lips. The white of his teeth was almost blinding in the sunlit room. Or maybe that was just Namjoon himself. You didn’t know. “You said it, not me.”

“Hey!” You looked around for something to throw at him, but failed to find anything that wouldn’t accidentally break his perfect teeth. So you settled for crossing your arms across your chest instead, pout overtaking your features. “Bully.”

“You love it.” Namjoon teased, slouching further down in his chair in an attempt to get comfortable.

“Stop moving!” Soohee ordered, slapping a hand to her sketchpad in exasperation.

“Sorry, sorry.” The man apologized, his warm eyes moving back to meet yours.

You couldn’t avert your gaze. Couldn’t move. Didn’t want to.

Only hoped that the look in your eyes expressed all of the things that you couldn’t.        

“If you could be anything in the world, what would it be?”

Namjoon hummed in thought, his face so close to your own that you had to close your eyes to avoid going cross-eyed. It was dark yet again, the curtain around his bed drawn to a close. You liked to imagine that it could stop time. That the flimsy material hanging above your heads could freeze you in that moment forever.

“A rapper.”

“A rapper?” You opened your eyes in disbelief, mouth falling agape. “Really?”

He shifted, fingers tapping out an imaginary beat against your hip. “Yes really.”

“Hm.” Your own fingers traced nonsensical shapes against the skin of his exposed collarbone. “Wouldn’t have expected that.”

“Is it really that far fetched?”

You paused in thought, tongue flickering out to wet your lips. “Nah, I guess not. I could see it. You get all poetic sometimes.”

Namjoon’s breathy laugh fanned against your face. “What would you be?”

A small shrug lifted your shoulders. “I dunno. I’d like to travel, even though that’s not really a career.”

“Where would you go?” His hand moved from your hip and upwards, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek. Your eyes slid closed on their own accord as you leaned into his touch.

“Anywhere. Everywhere.”

“That sounds nice.”

You smiled. “Yeah. But only if you came with me.”

“I’d like that.” Namjoon’s thumb drifted to your bottom lip and you shuddered at the feeling of his skin against yours. "For you to take me with you."

“Yeah?” Your question ghosted against his thumb. “Where would you wanna go?”

“Mm. Seoul.”

“Korea?”

“Yeah.”

“Why there?”

“My parents were born there. I think I’d like to see it. See where they came from.”

“I think I’d like to see it to.” Your breath hitched when his head shifted against the pillow, breath mingling with your own.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Soft.

Namjoon’s lips were softer than you imagined they’d be as they pressed gently against yours. He tasted of the strawberry chapstick he loved to use. Tasted of hopelessness, of heartbreak turning bitter on your tongue. You threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, pressed your lips harder against his.

His kiss forced the thoughts from your mind. The feeling of his hand sliding up your shirt extinguished the cold rush of despair from your veins. His shirt hitting the floor buried the soul crushing anguish. The feeling of skin-on-skin spoke of desperation. His mouth on yours stifled the moans that threatened to escape your throat as he made you feel what neither of you could say aloud.

The darkness swallowed up the heat of his gaze as the curtain shielding you from the rest of the world stopped time.

“So, I’ve been thinking.”

“Wow, that’s a surprise.”

Namjoon snorted at your sarcastic reply, lips pressed together to try and hide his mirth. But the happy gleam that sparked behind his eyes gave him away. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted.”

“If this is you trying to get into my head, think again.” You mumbled distractedly, shuffling around the cards in your hand. The fact that you didn’t even need to look up to see Namjoon’s eye roll was scary.

“Like I even need to. You’ve lost the past five rounds.”

“Shut up!” Tongue in cheek, you glanced up to see his amused expression before looking back down at your cards. “Got any 3s?”

“Go fish.” Namjoon smirked at your groan of exasperation, ignoring your mumbled you’re cheating. “As I was saying. I was thinking.”

“About what, cheater?”

He paused before answering, eyes lingering on you as if gauging your response to what he would say next. “I want to show you something.”

Looking up at him over the tops of your cards, you wiggled your eyebrows. “Yeah? Like what?”

Namjoon gave a deep, put upon sigh that only you could pull from him. He jokingly called it annoyance, but you called it an accomplishment. He shook his head at you, the purple of his newly dyed hair clashing violently with the orange shirt he had on. Why that man chose to dress like a chic hobo with no fashion sense was beyond you.

“You know what? Nevermind.”

“No! Tell me!” The cards in your hand dropped to the table between you and you leaned forward, hands outstretched to grab onto his forearms.

The two of you were in one of the lounges in the hospital’s ICU. The other chairs were empty, leaving just the two of you together. You would go there together sometimes to escape the boring white walls of the rest of the hospital. At least here someone had thrown up brightly colored wallpaper. Even if it didn’t match the ugly polka-dotted upholstery of the couches.

Whoever the interior designer of the place was really needed to be fired.

“No, now I-” Namjoon cut himself off, a hand pressed to his lips to try and stop the sudden coughs from forcing their way out. They overtook him, his wheezing, violent coughs.

“Joon!” You stood from your chair in alarm, rushing around the small table separating you. Knees hitting the carpeted floor painfully, you kneeled in between his legs, hands coming out to rub at his shoulders.

Namjoon bent at the waist, wet coughs hacking their way out of his throat. His forehead met your shoulder and you raised a hand to run through his hair. “I’m here, Joon. I’m here.”

You didn’t know how long his attack lasted, but it was too long. Too long that he was without breath. Too long that he sat there coughing and wheezing and shaking. But like everything, it eventually came to an end. And Namjoon sat back, swiping a hand across his lips and smearing blood.

“Joon.” Your voice came out choked. Alarmed. The red on his skin didn’t belong there. Shouldn’t have been splattered down his chin.

“I’m okay, Sugar. I’m fine.” But Namjoon’s voice didn’t sound okay. Didn’t sound fine. His breath shuddered as he inhaled, like his lungs were protesting against the intake. “I’m okay.”

He wasn’t.     

“This one’s a favorite.”

“You’ve said that about all of them.”

“Duh. That’s because I mean it.”

“They can’t all be your favorites.”

“Yeah, Joon? Says who? You the favorite police?”

“What even is that?”

“Exactly.”

Your fingers flipped the page, eyes reading over the words penned into the white spaces. Namjoon’s neat handwriting stared back up at you, the poetic lyrics drawing you in, pulling you deeper into his thoughts. His hopes. His dreams. His fears.

“Let me see which one you’re reading at least.”

Jerking the leatherbound journal out of Namjoon’s line of sight was harder than one might think. The tall, long-legged giant had height on you. But you managed, somehow. “Nope. Now let me read in peace.”

His sigh harmonized perfectly with your laughter.  

Namjoon’s dry stare bore so deeply into you that you swore you could feel his gaze in your soul. He rolled his eyes skyward as if asking the divine why he was forced to deal with you.

“Why?”

“You don’t like them?” You pouted, kneeling onto the mattress of his bed to peer up at him with puppy eyes. Your lips met the soft skin of his cheek. “Don’t want it?”

Namjoon sighed as you kissed your way across his jaw, stopping just before you reached his lips. “Want me to take it back? My gift that was so painstakingly difficult for me to get?”

“For fucks sake.” He rolled his eyes yet again, ignoring your your face will get stuck like that. Namjoon turned his head and captured your lips in a chaste kiss. “I’ll keep it. Happy?”

“Will you wear it though?” It was hard to contain your giggle, even between the pecks he littered onto your mouth.

“Don’t push it.”

Your giggles turned into full blown laughter, eyes landing back on the ugly, rainbow colored cat printed shorts drooping in his grasp.

It was raining.

That much you could remember.

The icy droplets had poured from the sky suddenly as you hopped out of your car and rushed into the hospital. It pelted your skin, drenched your hair, dampened your clothes. But you didn’t feel it. Didn’t care.

The white tiled floor squeaked underneath the soles of your shoes as you ran straight past the reception desk. The white painted walls blurred together as your chest heaved with the effort of running. You knocked into a nurse. Or a doctor. Or a shaman. Fuck, you didn’t know. Didn’t care. Didn’t stop to check.

It wasn’t until you saw the familiar door. Until you flung it open with so much force that it bounced into the wall and ricocheted back towards you. Breath leaving you in pants, your eyes stared, stared, stared at the empty bed. At the curtains drawn neatly back as if taunting you that there wasn’t enough time. That there had never been enough time.

Your feet were glued to the floor, stuck as if you could rewind time if you didn’t move. As if reality wouldn’t come crashing down on you.

Movement caught your eye and you whipped your head around to stare at the small frame of your sister. She stood by her bed, hands grabbing at her own curtain like a lifeline. Soohee stared at you, eyes filled with a sadness that you didn’t want to see. That you refused to accept.

“When?”

“Last night.” Her voice was small, but the words were obnoxiously loud, filling the room with dreadful silence.

“Why?” You may as well have been screaming, but the question barely even left your lips. The room was cold. So cold.

“He didn’t want you to see it.” You could have sworn you saw her move, inching her way over to you. But you weren’t sure. Couldn’t see past the blurring of your vision. “Said that he didn’t want you to remember him that way.”

“That’s bullshit! It’s bullshit and you know it.” You were screaming now, hands clenched in the damp fabric of his hoodie drowning your frame, as if holding something of his would bring him back. “Why didn’t you tell me. Why?”

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t see her. Couldn’t see anything. Nothing but darkness. And it was cold. God was it cold. Why was it so fucking cold? “I’m sorry.”

The headphones pressed over your ears and buried into your hair drowned out the sounds of city life. Around you people shuffled, brushing against each other as they hurried to their destinations. But you stood still, eyes glued to the silver device resting in your palm. It’d taken you a long time to hunt one down.

But you’d been determined. He’d always said you were obnoxiously stubborn.

The thought brought a small smile to your face, the sharp twang in your chest reminding you that it’d been real. That he’d been real. Your fingers ghosted over the plastic warmed by the time it’d spent in your pocket.

A family rushed past you, the youngest child almost ramming into you. But you ignored it, blocked it all out. Instead, you took a deep breath, eyes closing to brace yourself. The voice of your sister rang in your ears as if she was standing right next to you, voice carried by the wind.

He left this for you. Said he’d wanted to show it to you someday.

With one last inhale, you opened your eyes once again to gaze down at the device in your hand. The black cassette tape rested innocently in the slot of the small cassette player. Written messily across a piece of gray duct tape was one simple word: Mono.

And beneath that, scrawled on another piece of tape that looked newer than the one above it.

Take me with you.

Your thumb hesitated over the play button.

He made it for you. Spent hours holed up in one of the hospital lounge rooms. Writing out the lyrics. Recording on some equipment he borrowed from one of the nurses. Your sister had said as you stood on the front steps of your shared apartment. Her short hair had been on full display, likely her way of showing the world that she was in remission. He’d want you to listen.

Eyes looking back up to the sidewalk in front of you, at the storefront signs written in foreign characters that you couldn’t understand, you paused.

The streets of Seoul were busy.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward.

And pressed play.

[jinned]

bts react- them as your boyfriend

-the biggest dork of a boyfriend oh my god

-but tries to act cool™️

-when he buys himself hoodies he’s also subconsciously thinking of whether or not you’d like it

-he wants to buy the kind of hoodies you want to steal

-“this one is a nice color but this other one is cozier and y/n would be able to curl up in it so I should go with this one”

-lots of giggling

-and that cute embarrassed smile/eye scrunch namjoon does (you know the one)

-he would cup your cheeks in his hands ALL THE TIME

-on dates he just wants to stare at you

-like it’s borderline creepy…

-but he’s just so in awe of you

-constantly wonders what he did to deserve you

-makes playlists for you to listen to

-he’s the type of boyfriend that would 100% put you first

-gets so concerned about your wellbeing that he kind of hovers

-he wants a partner in life and wants to be able to learn and grow with you

-tries so hard to be perfect for you

-is the type of boyfriend that won’t shut up about you to random strangers or friends but honestly doesn’t even realize that you’re all he talks about

-when someone calls him out on it he gets reeeaaalll embarrassed and shy

-always says you need to take more pictures together but then gets so lost in the moment he forgets to take any

-we already been knew you gonna lose some ribs cause you’ll be laughing so hard around this man

-writes you awful corny love jokes

-he’s the type of boyfriend who will always take care of you

-you’ll never have to worry about anything basically

-treats you like royalty and would do anything for you

-lots of at home dates!!

-cuddling on the couch drinking wine and watching old movies

-or karaoke

-but not…regular karaoke

-“whoever sings the worst doesn’t have to do dishes”

-it’s basically you two screeching and making inaudible sounds into a microphone

-some mornings you’ll wake up and he’ll be acting out a role from a film and it’s your mission to guess what character he is

-until then no kisses >:|||

-Jin would be the relaxed kind of boyfriend but you’ll never stop laughing

-would 10000% sing you to sleep

-just wants to spend time with you. That’s his love language 

-you are the source of his confidence

-”If I could get y/n to fall in love with me then I can do anything”

-at some points in the relationship you will have to remind him that he is an adult and to stop acting like a child

-only gotta tell him once and then he’ll get his shit together

-the type of boyfriend to make you think “wow…he’d be an amazing dad.” a LITTLE too early into the relationship

-shy boyfriend

-wants to protect you but also wants to hide behind you

-just wants you to be as in love with him as he is with you

-reaalllly afraid he’s going to do something to mess things up :(((

-has the mentality of “push them away before they push you away”

-is just really afraid

-but once you break down those walls and show him that you’re here to stay and that you love the real him…

-the dorkiest boyfriend

-so many sarcastic jokes

-“aha!!” kind of laughs

-sees the relationship as 50-50 but understands that sometimes you might be at a 30 so he needs to step up and be the 70 (I hope that makes sense)

-S P O I L S Y O U

-you mention one time you like that one thing?

-it’s all wrapped up in a pretty bow on your side of the bed by the end of the week

-leaves you REAL CUTE NOTES

-“hi baby I hope you have a great day at work! Don’t forget to take your vitamins and take a water bottle with you. Never forget you are the most precious thing to me. I love you more than I can ever describe.”

-writes songs about you

-a lot of songs

-would want to hide you from the paparazzi to protect you but would tweet so many obvious things about you

-at the end of the day he just wants to be held by you

-he’s so afraid of losing you that he’ll go over the top with everything he does

-legit watches romantic movies or reads romance novels to “Study” how to be a boyfriend basically

-but then quickly finds out that type of stuff isn’t how the real world works

-I could honestly go on and on about the type of boyfriend my lil yoongurt would be cause he’s seriously the dream boyfriend

-not gonna lie hobi might be kind of a mess of a boyfriend. Lemme explain

- m o o d s w i n g s

-just emotionally all over the place

-he seems to feel his emotions 10 times more than a regular person

-when he’s happy he’s OVER THE MOON

-when he’s upset or angry it’s a lot of petty attitude

-those are on rare occasions though

-he’s the type of boyfriend that clings to you

-just needs you close 24/7

-is really easy to shop for???

-I don’t think he’d particularly take you out on lots of dates

-he’s prefer bringing the dates home

-like board games and crafts

-6 months in and he’s talking about babies

-highkey just really intense

-but it’s mostly in a good way

-never forgets your birthday or anniversary

-the boyfriend that goes “it’s our three month anniversary! I got you a gift!”

-your family just ADORES HIM

-easily jealous

-ultimately is the ideal boyfriend once he gets past his own insecurities

-if you guys argue he will be the mature one to make you both sit down and talk it out

-ever wish you could date a golden retriever? WELL SAY NO MORE

-jimin would be the most loyal boyfriend

-would feel bad leaving you to hang out with his friends

-so many cuddles

-will literally fetch anything for you

-you need anything? He’s already on his way to the store to get it for you

-comes back with flowers and your favorite candy

-the type to get you presents just because they reminded him of you

-lots of romantic dates

-definitely the “my best friend is my boyfriend” type

-you are the center of his world and all he wants is for you to be happy

-if you have younger siblings he’s always excited to see them and play with them

-he really quickly becomes an addition to your family

-he’s really insecure so he needs constant confirmation that he’s a good boyfriend and that you love him

-the type to make a sims family with you

-“look y/n! Our sims have 8 kids!” 

-sometimes he’s so clingy it’s annoying

-like gadayum can’t anyone pee without holding their boyfriend’s hand??????

-he’s the opposite of Yoongi. Yoongi would be more likely to push you away due to his insecurities but Jimin will cling too much because of his insecurities

-Jimin would be the most attentive boyfriend ever like wow what a precious gem

-so so so sooooo goofy

-lots of adventures!

-wants to take you out all the time

-never go to the same restaurant twice

-wants to capture every moment with you via camera

-sometimes you have to remind him to actually live in the moment

-loves to hold onto you

-is not afraid of pda

-gets bashful when you do the simplest things. Like kissing his cheek randomly

-he can’t take it

-lmao sorry but if you’re a female reader he gonna play with your boobs ALL THE TIME

-not even in a sexual way just if it’s there within his reach it gonna be in his hand

-sometimes he gets a little intense with how childish he is

-if you try to have a serious conversation with him early into the relationship it might not go as planned

-he has a harder time letting go of his goofy and carefree side so you’ll just have to really sit him down and explain that you’re trying to be serious and want him to act the same

-after a while though it’s SOOOOO much easier

-I don’t wanna say you have to train him to be a boyfriend but you’re gonna have to train him to be a boyfriend

-what I mean by train is that you’ll have to teach him what you like and what you expect/want from him because a lot of the dating stuff won’t come naturally to him

-but don’t worry he’s got it down and will do anything to make you happy

-just be careful not to make him feel like he’s not good enough or that you’re trying to change him

-definitely wants a “my best friend is my significant other” type of relationship

-out of all the members he’s most likely to be self aware of if he’s ready for a relationship or not

-“yeah I really like this person but I’ve got a lot going on so it wouldn’t be fair to them.”

-he’s not romantic by the book but definitely romantic in his own way

-takes you to art museums and shows you his favorite paintings

-if you look closely a lot of the paintings reflect love and inner turmoils

-you basically have to read in between the lines with tae

-oh sweet baby boy :(

-the cutest boyfriend :(

-like…the ones you see in movies kind of boyfriend

-the “this has to be scripted” or “he stole this off the internet” kind of boyfriend

-memorizes you to a T

-you’re in a bad mood? Comes home with flowers and your favorite snacks

-tucks you in at night and gives you temple kisses

-also kind of a lost boyfriend ™️

-he’s just…trying real hard to figure things out

-jungkook’s google search list:

•”how to be a good boyfriend?”

•”best places to take your girl/boyfriend”

•”how to know if you’re in love”

-wants to WRESTLE

-like play wrestling where you’re both laughing and just grabbing each other and trying to pin one another down

-is scared when he realizes it could lead to something sexual

-just wants to be a dork with you

-another “my best friend is my boyfriend” type of guy

-but also babies the fuck outta you

-is so polite and respectful to your family that they’re suspicious

-gives THE BEST boyfriend hugs

-always smells good

-the type of boyfriend that buys you the giant ass teddy bear and a giant bouquet of flowers

♡𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝓊𝑒𝓈𝒹𝒶𝓎 ♡

© do not copy, modify, translate, or repost. Jinitude 10/22/19

[alolanrain]

Raihan taking pictures with ash having fun with friends, raihan social media followers didn’t know who’s that person with raihan, many followers thinks that raihan best friends just like Leon and others just ship it with raihan and ash as a joke/fanfic

This honestly got away from me very quickly, so have this basically fic that does really keep to the ask.

———

They were out on some camp sight, Ash’s property he got through his grandpas will that he never touched until last summer when his mom reminded Ash about the property. it was just Ash, his closest friends, their significant others, and Raihan.

Over all it was good. He couldn’t remember a time when he went camping-camping. Like without constant training and devising a way to kick Leon’s ass which he never ended up doing but that’s besides the point. They even brought three awesome Malibu Boats between the semi large group. Most people were paired off into to their respective partnerships or friends pairing up for the night. Raihan was with Ash and they had a good system down.

Raihan is usually placed on the supper side of the two sleeping bags that were dipped together to creat one large one because then Ash wouldn’t accidentally open it up while they were sleeping and stumble off the air mattress and onto the cold floor. Raihan also cornered him to the side of the tent and the past two nights they’ve been essentially cuddling, which they didn’t mind since both were naturally warm and Unova nights can get pretty cold out in this dessert... forest?

Over all they started to slowly stick more around each other. Raihan taking a bunch of pictures and Ash happily joining him when ever he asked. It got to the point where Ash would either slide into Raihans lap or side without prompting when he saw the Rotom Phone flying around Raihans head. It honestly felt good holding Ash by his side and Raihan refused to look at May and Misty’s pointed eyebrow wiggles as they cuddled through the trip. It’s also gotten to the point where, at night by the fire, Ash would pad over with the s’mores stuff and happily sit his cute little butt down in Raihans lap.

Internally Raihan is freaking the fuck out slightly, wanting to either pull Ash closer and kiss the top of his head all over or kinda push him away and go to their tent because Raihan is definitely sure a boner is gonna pop any second, outwardly Raihan keeps his face in his phone and raises a hand to hold onto Ash’s hips as the shorter male kept wiggling about. Getting comfortable while also setting s’mores crackers, chocolates, and peanut butter cups on one of his legs Liz neutral look on his face forced on, especially when Ash did a hard grind against his hips as he wiggles about to get even more comfortable. Inside Raihan was dying, though that didn’t stop him from raising his phone a little and pointed the super HD lense at the smaller one in his lap.

“Hey Ash?” Raihan rumbled. Keeping his voice down because it looked like Brock was dozing off with Olivia happily tucked in his side and fast asleep as well.

“Whu?” Ash spluttered. Desperately trying to swallow the mouthful of a s’mores that he just made and turned to look at Raihan.

“Smile.” The gyn leader grinned. Trying to not sound dreamy as Ash gave Raihan one of his most stunning and happiest smiles Raihan had ever gotten out of him. “Thank you.” He reached out. Gently caressing Ash’s back and smiling a little when Ash lent back a tiny bit, arching his spine to press more into Raihans palm before returning to his s’more that Pikachu had tried to steal without its trainer noticing.

Raihan was angled enough that neither anyone sitting besides him on lounging chairs would be able to see his phone screens. Not like they would anyways because Zoey is trying to silently argue with Dawn that four s’mores is already enough and Gary was sleeping in Tracey’s side, one of the firsts to go down and even before the sun had set.

Raihan looked back at the photo he just took of the Champion in his lap. Ash looked absolutely stunning with the almost twisted almost side profile he gave Raihan. Brown eyes and white teeth lit up by the roaring bonfire behind him and Raihan could easily pick out where Marshmello stuck to his upper lip and chocolat at the sides of his mouth. Half of his freckles on his nose lit and looked like golden specks flicked on while the others were darker but could still be seen by the faint mini lap that was held on by a branch a little up ways and behind the two. Raihans signature hoodie was big and loose on Ash, gathering at Ash’s elbows and exposing his back and fluffy black hair that was a little greasy. Raihan didn’t hesitate posting that picture to almost every sight he was on. Insta, Facebook, Twitter, both private and public Snaps, you name it and it was on there. Captioned it all with;

“Can’t believe I’m out here with him and everyone. such a blessing to know Ash and the gang ❤️”

He did something he normally didn’t do unless he was at home and was one hundred percent certain that he wasn’t gonna be headed for the day and told his Rotom to go have some fun and charge up as well. The shiny little electric Pokémon zoomed off to where Ash’s Charizard and Raihans Flygon was. Hopefully the little bugger won’t make anyone mad. Setting down the now rotom-less phone Raihan leaned back more into the reclining camp chair. Being careful not to knock Ash back or off the chair entirely. Soon enough though some telekinesis snatched the box away and sent it back into the main trailer where they soley keep their utensils and food cold and dry, also because Gary had hurt his back a week prior before the planned trip so they had to be accommodating as much as they could because Gary refused to be left behind.

Ash glared at Zoey and her new Gothorita and the two stuck their tongues out at him before turning back to Dawn and squishing her under her quite complaints. He shrugged and looked back at Raihan. eyeing his chest and bitting his bottom lip like he wanted to ask a question, that sight sent more blood down south because Arceus dammit that was a sinful look and Raihan really wants to cover Ash’s face so he can either calm his dick down or not see Ash’s realization on what’s going on.

“Can I...?” Ash waved his hand and pointed to Raihans chest where one of his arms were crossed over. A hopefully look in his eyes and he leaned down while giving Raihan a look.

“Su-sure!” Raihan coughed into his fist. Thankfully his face was a little to far from the fire and skin to dark for anyone to notice his raging blush. Raising the arm over his chest Ash gladly sunk down. Moving and wiggling about, much time Raihans enjoyment and torture, until he tucked his head a little under Raihans head and had one of his arms reaching across and up to cling to the light jacket Raihan was wearing at the upper shoulder area.

“Comfy?” Raihan couldn’t help but chuckle. His own hands falling back down to curl Ash closer and shift him slightly so that he was hurting each other in anyway like this.

“Mhmm,” Ash sighed, deflating slightly and closing his eyes in bliss, “you’re warm.” Punctuating the last part by Turing his head up and nosing along Raihans lower neck before stilling and enjoying the heat he was getting from both the fire and Raihan.

Raihan really couldn’t move his head much because of how Ash was laying on him and he was thankful. No doubt by the prickly feeling in his spine everyone else, who was awake, was wiggling their eyes at him or giving Raihan a pointed glare. Choosing to take the moment he started running one of his large palms up and down Ash’s back slight. Tipping to the side and not his hip so that he didn’t rub Ash’s ass and and going as far down Ash’s thigh that his long arms could allow without jostling Ash to much.

Said trainer his his arms was practically purring as Ash was becoming putty in his arms. Arching and leaning his back a little into every touch before soft snoring could be heard and Ash didn’t move anymore. Sighing Raihan moved both arms over Ash again and tilted his head back, looking at the stars above and trying to find some constellations to pass the time before someone calls bed time and the rest follow afterwards.

———

Raihan didn’t post anymore pictures after that one surprisingly, it was only the third night there out of the week stay, though that doesn’t say he didn’t take a lot of pictures.

Most of them just happened to be of Ash or Ash with him or Ash with everyone pokemon. Especially of Ash in his swimsuits.

Raihan drove the biggest Malibu boat, not very keen to know what kind it is or power it had just that it could go fast and faster then the other two boats piloted by Gary and Brock. Everyone was happy that there was a public boat launch not to far from Ash’s property and that they’ve been out in the sun and taking dives into the cold water that had come from a nearby mountain.

Back to the phone, it was flying everywhere and being careful not to attract a lot of bird Pokémon, Rotom was currently near the back of the boat. Catching videos of Ash and Dawn surfing separately on the waves the boat made. He had to be careful and not go to fast if he didn’t want to automatically sink Ash and or Dawn. Ash was currently the one who was surfing. Dawn had quite two sessions ago and held onto the green rope that they use to get up and into the wave.

Zoey did her call, “flag up!”, and Raihan immediately slowed down to boat even more as he turned to the right. Letting the giant waves crash into the haul head on and grunted at the up and down motion as the boat bobbed.

“You good?” Raihan called. Motioning first Zoey to keep the bright orange flag up just in case Ash wanted to go again.

“Little sore,” Ash called from the lake water, grinning up at Raihan before squealing when Dawn all but hurled the green rope at his face when he came into launching distance, “I’m hungry though.”

“Yeah,” Zoey piped up, “Lunch sounds good.”

“I agree,” Dawn yawned into her hands, “and I actually want to get some tanning done today.”

“Sounds good!” Raihan directed his lazy smile at the three, the only ones who wanted to do some water sports as the others just wanted to swim and play with water squirter‘s and chillax, “I’ll call Brock and see how far we got away from the other boats.”

He quickly turned back to the control panel at the steering wheel. Not keen on catching a glimpse of a happy and wet Ash out in the bright sun. That would K’O his ass right then and there and nobody needs that since Raihan is the only one on the boat with a legal driving license.

“This is Big Dragon calling to Hot Chef and Country Gay, where’s your guys’s location? Over.” Raihan had to keep himself from chuckling. Both Gary and Ash were insistent to use fake names over the clip on radio and nobody knows why. Raihan also didn’t have to wait long.

“This is Hot Chef, Country Gay is currently in the water and we’re by the Deschutes side of the lake. Over.” Bricks voice was a bit staticky but it was all good.

Raihan also didn’t bother answering. Just telling everyone to hold on as he slowly ramped up the speed until they were shooting across the water back near to where the boat launch is.

Rotom had fluttered near a holder that the boat had for phones before the take off and decided to be a little shit and show him all the photos it took. Especially all the ones of Ash’s. It only took one look and a sharp under the breath curse to note that Rotom tried especially hard to get some absolutely stellar pictures of Ash. If he was honest with himself and Ash even had a social media account, the smaller trainer would have girls and guys just begging on their knees to take him out on dates.

That irked Raihan a bit much then he was expecting. Hot searing jealous flashed in his chest until a smaller hand came out of no where and gently settled, as much as it could with the wind that was buffing everyone, on his bicep.

“You good?” Ash called over the wind.

The jealous settled down. Content to know that all the photo’s Raihan room were his and that no one else had the exact same pictures as the one in his phone, except for the one he had already posted before. “Yeah.” Raihan answered. Not wanting to bother anyone with his own emotions at the moment.

Ash nodded from the corner of Raihans eye and went to sit back down. A hard wave hit them and Raihan cursed a bit more loudly and quickly apologized before continuing off.

At least he has those pictures.

———

Which he uploaded when they got to the airport after their stay. Olivia and Dawn were particularly happy about the air conditioning and so was Tracey who had to carry most of his and Gary’s luggage because Gary’s back still hurt a little.

Ash and Raihan were almost always together as they waited for their flights. Raihan was going back to Kanto with Ash, Tracey, Gary, and Brock while the rest were saying good byes to each other.

Raihan, which hes finding a common reoccurrence this week, ignored most of his other media to focus on posting a few more pictures on his accounts. Slightly arguing with himself not to post to many pictures of just Ash and also sprinkle in some other candid shots of a few other friends and a group picture they took at the entry way into the park that they had to drive through to get to the property. Though most of his pictures still ended up being dominated by Ash.

His favorite was the one one, that he didn’t take but Zoey did by snatching his phone out of the air as quick as she could before Raihan noticed, of him and Ash. Shoulder to thigh as much as they could with their feet on the backboard and letting water wash over the hot tips of their feet. Zoey at the time was on another boat during lunch, helping Misty take out the drinks from a cooler in Gary’s boat, and had a perfect clear view of just Raihan and Ash in Raihans boat of the two. Raihans head was ducked down more towards Ash, his original hat was long gone in favor of one of those straw sun hats with some cool orange colored fabric on the bottom to keep more of the sun from his eyes from shining through the little holes of the weave. Ash had a more sturdy floppy sun hat, pushing the brim up to he could smile at Raihan. Cheeks rosie and brown eyes soft.

It competed with the fire and s’mores picture Raihan had taken the night before that day happened. Putting his phone down Raihan focused back on Ash and Gary who were joking easily together about buying each other some touristic Unovian hats just to give to Ash’s Mom and Gary’s Grandpa. An easy smile glittered over Raihans lips as he came over and sling an arm behind Ash as they both asked him what hats should they get.

———

Raihan didn’t look at his phone, after posting yet another picture of the gang before they had all split up, until after he and the other three had touched down in Kanto.

Gary kept giving Tracey jaw kisses in apology for not being a big help this trip around. Tracey didn’t object to much as he was enjoying the extra treatment that he was getting from his Fiancé.

Raihan was lazily pulling Ash along. Pikachu decided long ago that Raihans shoulder was better then his trainers and had tucked his head against his jaw. He didn’t mind but it did make it a little hard to keep track of Ash who stumbled and grumbled behind Raihan, clinging to his large hand, until they got to the front where Daisy and Professor Oak were waiting. Two separate cars because Ash had warned ahead that Raihan is a tall bastard and is gone need a full back seat to himself.

He was to tired to fully freak out over meeting two very high end Professors, he just wanted to get to Ash’s place and take a three day nap. Raihan gently pushed off Ash and nudged him over to the front of the car where Daisy caught him in his stumble and helped him sit down in the front passenger seat. Raihan placed their luggage in the back of the trunk and cursed under his breath as he awkwardly climbed into the semi small car and tried to situate himself the best that he could with his lanky ass body. Raihan waved away Daisy when she made a wounded noise as she looked how scrunched Raihan was as he took up the whole back seat with his legs and his shoulders were still slouched down with his head to avoide hitting the roof of the car.

It was an hour drive home. An hour where Raihan couldn’t look anywhere without hitting his head but directly at Ash. Who, for the love of Arceus, woke up from his slumber to look back at Raihan with the most sappiest looks Raihan as ever received in his life and shifted so he could reach out a hand to Raihan. Wiggling his fingers until Raihan’s slow moving brain caught up and he reached out his own hand to grasp Ash’s. Who then promptly fell asleep seconds after. Their hands still connected.

Daisy made a snorting laughing sound. Raihan could barely see her goofy smiling reaction through the review mirror as she eyed him and Ash. “You like him.” She quietly sang. Eyes moving back to road again after taking one last look at Ash.

“Uh. Wrong,” Raihan slurred, head not really catching up to what his mouth was saying, “I love him.”

“Even better.” Daisy replied.

“Damn right.” He sniffed before shifting his hand that was holding Ash’s a little.

———

Next thing Raihan knew he was waking up in Ash’s small childhood bed. Legs cramping horrible and back aching from the way it was arching and how Ash’s elbow is digging into his stomach. His Rotom Phone was right above his face, bright light shining down in his eyes, and displaying over fifty different text messages and calls and stuff from his social media apps.

Raihan blindingly reaches up and snatched his phone out of the air with an angry half growl. Lips curling in a sneer when he noticed that it was only five in the morning. Lazily looking through his messages Raihan only garnered that his fan base was blowing up about his pictures that he posted and that it’s causing the league to freak out as well for some reason.

For all Raihan cared that was the normal with his fan base, even his more normal chillaxed fans, so he didn’t even see a reason why anyone would be calling him this early in the morning.

“Mute all calls and messages unless it’s a complete dire emergency.” Raihan mumbled loud enough for his Rotom to hear before letting go of the phone and trying to gently shift about without waking Ash up. It was an impossible mission to find a better sleeping position with how small the bed was compared to him so Raihan just let it go and slung an arm over Ash curled up body. Feeling the tinnier trainer shift more into Raihan’s chest at the motion.

Eyes falling shut with a heavy sigh. Raihan went back to sleep. Completely and blissfully unaware of the storm that was raging over Galars social media for the last week.

[bangtansfavwriter]

💘bangtan as boyfriends: seokjin💘

-you know that feeling when you're wearing your fav sweater and you feel all cuddly, safe and secure? that's you with seokjin, only that you're now wearing his giant hoodies and he gushes about your sweater paws like every 30 mins

-super reliable and loyal, you don't ever have to doubt him in anyway except when he says he doesn't wanna eat a second bowl of cereal with you on sundays

you: whyyy, it's your favourite! you're seriously saying no to a second breakfast??

him: yeah but why'd you call it second breakfast? do I look like a hobbit to you?

you: (-just to be a lil shit-) yea

him: im breaking up with you

-he...... looks absolutely flawless after he wakes up and ur like..... how... you once caught him drooling during his sleep and pulled out the camera but just as you turned to him again you started to believe in divine intervention / black magic (whichever u prefer) bc he looked absolutely angelic and suddenly there was no sign of any drool and again, you're like ..... HOW

-this was also the day that started an on-going battle between you and jin, bc you tried to catch a bad picture of him which was pretty much a kamikaze task for you

(you know this bit from "how I met your mother"? it pretty much went like that, only that u finally got your bad pic when a friend's cockatoo flew too close to him and he started yelling, btw that was after 4 years of dating rip)

- lots of cooking dates where you start off preparing everything together and he's always like "no do it like this" , "ah lemme get this" and in the end he cooks for you, but does it happily bc he enjoys seeing you eating well

-very traditional dates imo but also fun, going for a walk together by the river, romantic dinner, amusement parks where you battle each other in every game

-ooo boy you two would be really competitive though when it comes to gaming and such

-the world has never seen air hockey players like you two, the passion, the anger, the yelling at each other where you two lowkey channel your inner maria sharapova (jk: hyung im scared, suga: me too, jimin: this is going to haunt me)

-also, he's not afraid to pull up with grand gestures when it comes to you and likes to spoil you tbh (but you're mostly like "isn't that... isn't that too much" and he's like "ok im gonna tone it down" and you guys have a spa weekend instead of flying to paris)

- very fun and spontaneous too so it's a good mix with him, it never ever gets boring

- he loves to go fishing so you two regularly go outdoors and either go to the sea together or he goes on his own while you chill in a nature resort and wait for him there

-talks a lot but also knows when to listen and mostly listens to you when you share your beliefs and such

-a gentleman: holds the door for you, helps you out of a car etc

-tried to learn the ukulele for you bc of your love for adventure time

-he actually picked it up so well that he surprised you with "la vie en rose" on the ukulele and serenaded you in your kitchen when you were making hot chocolate bc you couldn't sleep

-your personal hypeman at literally everything and very devoted to your happiness, ready to fight everyone who crosses you

-he feels at ease when he sees your smile, totally whipped for you tbh

- he loooves to show you off... you would accompany him to some events sometimes and he'd go "oh, have you met my partner?" - "there you go saying partner again..." - "yes, y/n, because they won't know if you're my partner in crime or if we're in love" - "lucky we're both" - "god i love you"

- you two would have so many inside jokes, sometimes to a point where outsiders would have no fkn clue what you're talking about

-he's on the brink of crying whenever you are in a soft mood and tell him how much you love him, like the one time you told him that you never thought there'd be so much to laugh and be happy about in life and he straight up started sobbing and pulled you into a tight hug

you: (laughingly) "cmon i didn't say that to make you cry"

jin: (still too emotional to talk, just clings to you)

you: did you know sloths sometimes mistake their own arms for branches and fall down because of that

(he went completely silent, then laughed his ass off for a solid minute)

jin: idk if I should laugh or cry, oh my god, this is terrible and hilarious and im going to hell, y/n

you'd just laugh along and then suddenly kiss him bc that you were so overwhelmed with love for him bc this was your favourite seokjin, a soft dork who laughs about inappropriate things and gets very very shy when you kiss him like that and needs some time to regain composure after that (-1 hour later, meeting with the guys- jk: hyung you ears are crimson red , jin: ...... *blushes at the mere thought*, nj: what's with jin-hyung?, jk: idk i may have broken him)

-what goes for jealousy.... you would never ever have to deal with that bc he trusts you 100% and you trust him the same amount, the only time he became somewhat "possessive" was when you guys went to an exhibition together and the curator became rather flirty with you, while jin was talking with the chairman, so unbeknownst to you, seokjin had an eye on you the entire time, saw that you were getting uncomfortable and then came to you and rested his hand on your lower back, shot the guy his most dashing smile and greeted him politely..... anyway, the guy got the hint and was gone like 20 seconds after

-he's a safe space for you tbh, and vice versa, being with you is grounding for him and he needs your touch to calm down when life gets too hectic

-he'd be at your doorstep a lot of times after he came back from the airport and these type of evenings would be rather quiet and full of cuddles and soft touches

-btw he would love helping you with renovations in your home and would pick up 1 unique piece for your flat whenever he was in a new city during their tour

-also, you guys would do so many trips to ikea tbh he would always find some occasion to go there even if it's just hot dogs or ice cream, btw I absolutely see this happening

-buys you succulents and says these are now your sons ("you let a cactus die, jin" - "that's why I leave them in your care while namjoon teaches me how to take care of them" - "you let namjoon teach you about plants?" - "I gotta be a good father, right?" - and right he was)

-tbh you'd tease him about his love for renovations and furniture but truth be told, he highkey envisions your future together and the whole thing is just his way of slowly building everything up until you get to the point the daydreams about, which would be a nice home with garden with self-grown tomatoes, a tiny pup and the smell of french toast on your lazy mornings together

[avengerofiron]

the people who built me || danny & tony

summary: tony has a choice to make when he encounters iron fist during an enforcer patrol. he chooses family. (solo incoming when lola gets time about The Consequences TM - sorry tony)

when: a few days before the siege

word count: 10,094 (we thought we were brief. we were not.)

trigger warnings: torture mention, abuse mention, death mentions

featuring: danny rand

TONY: Everyone made mistakes. It was a fundamental part of life — a fundamental part of science — to do something once, find out where you went wrong, and improve on it for the next situation that came your way. That innovation was what Tony lived for, what he breathed every single day in Stark Industries or as he acted as Iron Man. It was innovation that other people boasted about, too, until the point where mistakes became too much for them to simply brush off, when mistakes were too large to sweep under the rug, that’s when things got dicey.

Tony Stark had a habit of making things dicey.

The Sentinels weren’t his doing, though. For once, he wasn’t the guy in the room to create the targeting system, or the artificial intelligence, or even the giant, maniacal robots designed for one purpose and one purpose alone. These robots were created by men before Tony was even born, years before most kids would remember their first appearance on the scene just after the events went down in Cuba.

Their design needed a little work. Tony could say that with certainty. Their morality needed a complete overhaul, and if Tony could see that, if he could spot it a mile off with no hesitation, he didn’t see how they were going to spin it to make the public agree — but they did. They did, even if Ross stepped into every meeting with a face that looked like he’d been chewing on a wasp because his ass had been well and truly handed to him by the World Security Council. . Security. Sometimes it came at the cost of what really mattered in life. Sometimes, in the process of making a better world, you destroyed the old one that was perfect in its own unique way. Sometimes, people needed a little bad to make the good worth it.

Tony was still learning that. Of course, it was a little hard to learn with Ross breathing down his neck, the warning lingering on the horizon of every decision he made or didn’t make in the field.

He couldn’t afford to mess up. He couldn’t afford to make a dicey mistake, couldn’t afford to pull a Tony Stark.

Inevitably, that was exactly what would happen.

The Sentinels tracking system picked up an anomaly that wasn’t significant enough to investigate, but enough to suggest that something not entirely above board was going down in Hell’s Kitchen. Someone had latent powers they were aware not to use was one of the suggestions thrown around the meeting room. Others said it could be a fault with the system. Either way it needed checking out, and enforcement agents had been put on clean up duty while the robots handled the real, perceptible threats that they didn’t need to negotiate with. . Not just enforcement agents — Tony, specifically. Iron Man, glorified janitor, delegated to the bottom of the pile for the past month because he dared not to disclose some minorly crucial facts to his employers.

Bastards.

“You’ve reached the point of the fluctuation, boss,” FRIDAY informed him through the helmet’s sound system. “So far I’m picking up a single heat signature other than your own.”

“Tell me it isn’t burning up,” Tony replied. “I’ve had enough of fire people for one lifetime.”

“I wasn’t with you during that one, boss. Must’ve been the other computer.”

“Must’ve been.”

“The temperature signal appears human. They’re moving slowly — no adrenaline spike as of yet. I would suggest landing before things get nasty.”

“When have you ever known my missions to get nasty?” Tony asked. FRIDAY remained conspicuously silent, but her presence was noted. Tony could almost imagine her rolling her eyes. “Alright, darling. Let’s get this show on the road.” . He landed on the pavement in the alleyway, hand up and palm glowing. “Hi there,” he announced, voice robotic but not nearly as warped as he would like it to be. (Doing things you fundamentally disagreed with was easier when you were wearing a mask, he had found — Iron Man had always been more of his true self than Tony Stark, billionaire playboy.) “I’m Iron Man, you’re in breach of the Sokovia Accords, and we’re going to need to have a little chat. If you don’t mind, come easily and this’ll all be—”

The figure turned. The way he moved was as familiar as someone stepping around Tony’s kitchen counter, or pulling Tali over on the couch onto his knee, or messing around with Colleen in the gym, clearly holding back while Tony was watching because Tony didn’t know, couldn’t know, the truth.

The truth that was staring him in the face now.

He was wearing a mask, of course. Even Danny wasn’t trusting enough to know that running around with his own face in New York City in the current climate would result in anything but trouble. Tony still knew him, though. He knew him when he was a kid, chasing after him at galas. He knew him as a man, talking about a plane falling from the sky and snow surrounding him. He knew him as a cousin, broaching a subject, a word, Tony had always dodged, backing off the second Tony didn’t bite.

(Sometimes he wondered what would’ve happened if he did. If he gave Danny the truth in that moment, if he opened himself up, if he admitted something to both of them that he’d been carrying since he was fifteen years old. Sometimes he wondered, but not tonight. He was a little preoccupied.)

The man in the mask, the man on the Sentinels’ system, the man on FRIDAY’s tracker, the man he was sent to arrest …

It was Danny Rand.

DANNY: Over the last few years, Danny had had a few very close calls in his life of vigilantism. He’d been stabbed (multiple times now), shot (though only by Harold), kidnapped (also multiple times, which was worrying), maimed… The list went on and on. He had plenty of personal experiences to tell him just how dangerous this life was, plenty of scars and near-death moments to inform him just what he was risking every time he pulled that bandanna over his face.

He’d only recently come to consider the law to be one of those potential consequences.

Danny had never been arrested before. He’d certainly come close a few times in his early days back in the city, when his heart beat too quickly in his chest and he swung his fists at anyone who looked at him too closely, but he’d never seen the backseat of a patrol car. Thanks to Harold’s meddling, he’d even found himself on a federal watchlist for a moment or so, but Jeri took care of it before it could lead anywhere substantial. The closest Danny had come to prison was his forced stay in Birch, an experience he desperately wanted to avoid repeating.

If he were smart, he supposed, he might have scaled back the vigilantism to prevent an arrest. It was what Ward had advised him to do, on more than one occasion. Money can do a lot of things, Danny, he’d warned, but this isn’t one of them. If they catch you, they will send you to the Raft. Not some nice prison for tax evaders, the fucking Raft. And he was right. Danny knew he was right, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to hang up his worn hoodie and yellow bandana. Every time he tried, Ward’s voice was drowned out by a thousand others.

Protect my city. Matt, who hadn’t died for him but almost did, who’d trusted him to save a city he hadn’t even managed to stay in.

Danny Rand failed an entire city. The place he was sworn to protect. Sowande, who had been cruel and ruthless and right. . You should never have borne the Fist. Davos, angry and bitter and hitting the nail on the head every time. Danny had power, and he didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t earned it. Not really, not in the ways that counted. If he did nothing with it, if he failed New York the way he’d failed K’un Lun, what was the point of him? What did any of the sacrifices made to get him where he was mean?

So he didn’t stop. He kept fighting, kept roaming the streets with his Fist glowing as if there weren’t robots out to drag him in and enforcers less understanding than Colleen looking for a high profile collar. Because he needed to make amends. (Because he didn’t know how to stop.)

Tonight had been quiet. He hadn’t seen any sentinels, hadn’t run into any enforcers. He’d barely even seen any crime, only taking out one mugger by well into the morning hours. He probably should have been glad for it, but his skin itched and his chest was tight and he wanted to hit something. When he heard a quiet tang of something unmistakably metallic landing behind him, he was almost relieved. Finally, finally, a chance to let out some of that pent up rage on something he didn’t have to feel guilty for breaking.

But then he turned around, and the world tilted on its axis.

Everyone knew who wore the Iron Man suit, but even if he hadn’t there was no mistaking Tony’s voice beneath the modulated tones. Danny had been following Tony Stark around since he was a little kid, been clinging to his pant legs since he could walk. The fifteen-year gap in their relationship amounted to surprisingly little when he crashed on Tony’s couch as often as he did as an adult. Tony was there in good moments and bad, there on Christmas and in hospital rooms, at family dinners and in the moments when he couldn’t scrape himself off the floor. Tony had been there for all of that, and now, he was here for this.

And Danny froze. . Tony was frozen too, and though Danny couldn’t see his face, he had a feeling the wide-eyed expression beneath Iron Man’s mask was a pretty close match to the one he wore on his own face right now. Uncertainly, Danny shifted. Half of him wanted to walk towards Tony while the other half screamed at him to move away. He didn’t know which half was right. Maybe neither of them was.

“Hi,” he said experimentally, as if checking to see if his voice still worked. “I don’t… Uh, I can’t go to jail.” He bit his lip, barely stopped himself from adding, ’Please, Tony,’ because if Tony didn’t know who he was now, there would be no hiding it after something like that.

TONY: At least Batman roamed the rooftops of Gotham with a voice modulator. At least Daredevil pulled off that dark, mysterious, brooding, silent vigilante type. At least for the few weeks Tony himself managed to keep an alter ego on the down low, he wore a mask that covered the entirety of his face, his whole squishy human body, and his multitude of self worth issues all in one handy package. Danny was out here in a hoodie that wouldn’t have been out of place in Rhodey’s grungy backpack in MIT and a bandana that was riding up on his entirely too familiar nose, his voice breaking through in a weak attempt at a different pitch that Tony could see through in an instant, because he wasn’t a moron.

He was a genius, a fact that he often lamented over, and a genius who loved Danny Rand, at that.

Christ, it was looking at his own heart staring back at him, wide eyed and about to bolt, feet two seconds away from running down the alleyway and never looking back. Tony could catch him, of course. The suit could catch a rocket, if it wanted — but the question was whether he wanted to. The question was whether he wanted to see for himself, up close and personal, what Danny learned in the years he was gone, what knowledge he shared with Colleen that made the woman utterly terrifying. The question was whether Tony was willing to put someone else he loved in cuffs while the man he’d asked to marry him remained on the run, being fed intelligence from Stark systems, being told that if it came down to it, Tony would make the hard choice because it was the right one. . Making the right choice always seemed so difficult. Tony told himself that he needed compasses, like Steve or Sharon or Jarvis, Yinsen or Rhodes or Rumiko (not all of them were good compasses, but that was beside the fact), in order to make them. He told himself that he didn’t know the difference between wrong and right, because when he looked back at his extensive list of personal defects and lifelong tendency towards making mistakes, he figured that was proof of some void in his chest that other people had filled, something his parents failed to cultivate or he burned away with liquor.

But he knew, now. He knew it as much as he knew when Steve looked at him he’d burn down the world to put things right. He knew when he looked at Danny, he could never put cuffs around his wrist. he could never let anyone touch a hair on the kid’s goddamn head, and he wasn’t a kid anymore, Tony knew that, but he was. He always would be.

Tony lost him once before. He wasn’t losing him again, not by choice, not like this.

Of course, of all the words Tony could have chosen to put that sentiment into the universe, he went with something completely …

Well, completely Tony.

“Yeah,” he said, helmet retracting quickly. “No shit you can’t go to jail.”

“Boss,” FRIDAY interjected, “perhaps we should shut off the Panel communication servers-”

Tony clicked one of the panels on the suit’s arm, and FRIDAY faded into nothingness — along with Ross’ feed to this conversation. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tony demanded, taking a step forward. “Do you just think you can go around the city in … in not even spandex. You’re in less than spandex. You look like you raided a Goodwill and then they kicked you out because you were making the babies cry. I … I do everything I can to try and stop you from getting into shit, Da— Iron Fist, and you and all the, uh … the other ones, you all keep doing this!”

DANNY: Surprisingly, this wasn’t actually a situation Danny had been in before. When he first returned from K’un Lun, he had seen no reason to lie to people about where he had been and what had been done to him. He told the Meachums everything, didn’t understand why they didn’t believe him immediately because it was real. He knew it was real, had the scars and the nightmares to prove it. He told Colleen who, while more receptive, still spent the first few hours of their acquaintanceship looking at him like a bomb about to go off. He told the doctors at Birch, positive that they would understand what he was saying and let him go, so sure that it would reinforce his sanity. He told anyone who would listen about the Fist, and everyone looked at him like something inside of him was broken. Like it was some wild story invented by a child’s mind in order to avoid accepting the truth.

Danny had never wanted Tony to look at him like that. He’d looked up to Ward as a kid, sure, but back then, Tony had been his hero. He’d wanted, so badly, to do everything Tony Stark did. He remembered saying as much to his mother one night as she was putting him to bed, remembered barely stopping for air as he launched into an elaborate retelling of what he’d done at the Starks’ that day, adding animated hand gestures to the conversation as he went on and on about Tony’s games that only he really knew all the rules to and the way he was never angry when Danny and Sharon made up their own rules on top of them, the way the three of them laughed and played and no one flipped the gameboard over when they were losing the way Ward always did and no one cried like Joy used to. The Meachums were family, but that had always been more because of Harold than the children. The Carters and the Starks were family because of Tony and Sharon. Because of Danny.

And now, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be the reason they stopped being family, too. . He didn’t think Tony would arrest him. Not if he knew it was him, not if he recognized the eyes staring back at him. On a logical level, Danny knew that Tony never put him in cuffs, never take him to the Raft. But old paranoia told him he was assuming too much, old anxiety clawed at his gut and demanded to be free. Ward had put him in a mental institution, had paid people to hurt him while he was there. Harold had traded him to the Hand, had pointed a gun at him and pulled the trigger. Joy had hired someone to kidnap him, knowing he might not survive the experience. Davos had cut into him, bled him out over a clay pot, shattered every fucking bone in his leg twice for good measure. Danny loved his family, he really did. But he had a lot of bad experiences with trust, a lot of scars he could have avoided if, for a moment, he had loved less.

Tony Stark was not Ward Meachum. Danny knew that. Tony never would have hired guards to chase him down the street with guns in hand because he was afraid of losing money, wouldn’t have hurt him over and over and over again to save his own reputation. Tony wasn’t Joy or Davos, either, and he certainly wasn’t Harold. Tony was a good man who loved Danny, who had always treated him like a person instead of a billionaire, who had let him be a kid when no one else seemed interested in doing so. The Carters and the Starks and the Rands, they were a different kind of family than he’d had with Harold and Joy and Ward. They were less cutthroat, less money-hungry. Sharon and Tony had never wanted anything from him except for him to be himself. Danny knew that. . But that old paranoia still hovered for a moment as he and Tony stared at each other, both still as they assessed the situation. Danny stood lightly on the balls of his feet, ready to bolt if he needed to, as if it would make a difference. He couldn’t outrun Tony when he was wearing the suit, and even the intimate knowledge he’d gained over the last few years of vigilantism wouldn’t help him much against Iron Man. He was pretty sure Tony had some kind of x-ray vision in that thing, so hiding in a dumpster would only end up embarrassing him.

Danny didn’t realize he’d been holding a breath until Tony spoke and he let it out, a quiet exhale as a wave of relief hit him so hard it threatened to knock him off his feet. Tony didn’t sound like Iron Man, enforcer of the Accords right now. He sounded like Tony Stark, exasperated older cousin getting ready to gear up for a pretty intense lecture. . Tony did something with his arm that Danny thought might mean the higher-ups couldn’t eavesdrop anymore, and Danny’s shoulders relaxed just a little. He still carried some tension in his shoulders as Tony launched into his lecture, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t getting arrested for the moment. It allowed him to relax enough to look mildly offended, if nothing else. “Hey,” he said, “Je --- uh, my friend said spandex is lame. And this is comfortable! I need to be comfortable.” Not that the outfit was the point, but it was the principle of the thing, wasn’t it? He had to defend his style choices. “Look, you’re mad. I know you’re mad. Can I just --- I can explain. Okay? It’s just, uh, it’s a really long story, and I ---” He broke off for a moment, searching for words momentarily before continuing, “I punched a dragon! And now I’ve got --- I’ve got control over my chi, and I --- A building fell on Daredevil! And he told me, he said, ’Protect my city,’” his voice got momentarily deeper in a poor imitation of Matt, “and I couldn’t say no, because he was gone! And then --- And then my brother did a sacred ritual on me and I broke my leg and went to China, which you knew that part because of course you would have noticed that I was in China, right? And now I’m back! And, um, yeah. That’s it.”

It was an utterly nonsensical explanation, a series of stories strung together that, from the outside, seemed completely unrelated. Danny had never been the best at setting the record straight, especially not under pressure. Tony knew that, of course.

TONY: He wasn’t his father. Tony had never been his father, and recently, he’d stopped feeling inferior about that fact and started feeling grateful. He rarely gave over to anger. His rage, when it was prompted, came relatively smoothly. It built in him, gathered in his chest, curled around in his mind until he found the way most appropriate to put it to good use. There were rare occasions when Tony lost his cool, at least in that regard.

This was one of those rare occasions.

He was pissed. He was pissed off, and he was angry, and he was every word that he could think of to describe the rising heat on the back of his neck, the way his hands balled into fists. Any other man in a metal suit would use the mask to its fullest potential at this moment and hide his weakness. Tony had never been good at covering the emotions on his sleeve, not when it came to enemies, not when it came to strangers, or the press. Definitely not when it came to family.

He was angry, but he was terrified, too. His throat felt tight as he spoke, his voice raising but not nearly strong enough to have any kind of weight behind it.

“You know I’m mad?” Tony repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You know I’m mad? Are you fucking joking me?” Danny stopped talking, and Tony held up a hand. “Listen, this is the moment where you zip it, alright? This is the point where you stop talking, because I have a lot of things to say to you, and you just—”

Danny kept. On. Talking.

(Jesus, that ran in the family.) . The words that were coming out of Danny’s mouth were quick and panicked, and suddenly Tony was having flashbacks to when Danny was nine years old. Sharon assisted in the breaking of one of Tony’s vases, entirely accidentally, and Danny had a hundred and one excuses for Tony, not one of which included any form of a lie. At that stage, the kid had been utterly incapable of keeping a single detail from Tony. Secrets weren’t something that existed between the three of them.

Except they had. Except every time Sharon and Danny walked into his house in Malibu, Tony had to clean up weeks of evidence of his real life, the life he led on a daily basis. He had to hide the people he spent time with, the things he wasted time on, the things that kids didn’t want to see and he would die before he admitted to, because they, for God knows what reason, looked up to him. Cared for him. Loved him.

Danny was talking fast, and he’d never lied to Tony before except for when he had, but when he said dragon Tony couldn’t find even a piece of his heart that doubted the validity of what he was saying. “A building fell on Daredevil because he chases that,” Tony interjected, before Danny could go any further. “I don’t know the guy as anything other than a dot on my threat analysis, but come on. He goes out in a mask and he tries to make a difference, and that’s honourable and heroic and all of those things, but it’s also fucking stupid.” . What Iron Fist was doing was stupid. FRIDAY was in his ear reminding Tony that he was stupid, that there was a timer on this conversation and Ross would realise before long that Tony had tapped out, and that only spelled trouble when Tony was already on the shitlist …

“This life,” Tony said, taking another step forward, gesturing at Danny’s gear, “this life only ends one way. It ends with you in the ground. It ends with someone taking joy in putting you there. And that’s … I do this because I killed people. I killed innocent people for decades. I killed people, and I need to make up for that but Christ, you …”

Tony sucked in a breath, and all pretence went out the window.

“You had ten years.” He was yelling. No, yelling would be easier — he was trying to scream, but the words were barely coming out. “You were ten years old and you were dead. You were dead and that damn near killed all of us, you know that? You ever wonder why Sharon’s mom worries more than is even close to normal about her coming home in a box? You ever wonder why I … I was in a cave and I was seeing so much shit, and they were going to kill me and I saw you. I saw you and you weren’t even dead. You weren’t. You were alive the whole damn time.”

Tony stepped back, then, heart beat pounding loud in his ears. “You can’t do that to us again.” He said it the same way Pepper had, pushing herself out of bed, shooting him a glare on the way down to the couch. He said it like there was no other solution, like Danny would stop or he wouldn’t, and Tony would be able to walk away — but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even be able to stop himself if Danny asked him to. “If it wasn’t me,” he continued, “if it wasn’t me here, tonight, things would be different. You know that, right?”

DANNY: There were days when Tony reminded him so much of Ward that Danny ached with it, moments when his cousin got a look on his face and it felt like Danny was looking at his brother instead. This moment, with Tony clearly and understandably angry and Danny standing in front of him with some dangerous stunt only faintly in the rearview mirror, was one of them. Danny couldn’t help but think back to the thousand and one times he’d had this conversation before. In Ward’s office, when he and Danny were slowly making their way back towards being brothers. On his couch, bloodied and beaten, with Ward quietly trying to pretend not to be terrified. On the runway of a private airport, Ward threatening to lay down in front of a plane to keep Danny from going off on his own.

He’d had the conversation with other people too, of course. Colleen, who waited up until he stumbled home at five in the morning with bruised knuckles and blood on his hands, who asked him quietly how many times he’d lit up the Fist, how many hours of sleep he was running on. Claire, who told him how terrified she was that his obsession with being something he wasn’t would take away everything good about what he was. Jessica, Matt, Luke, Misty… Danny had people who loved him, people who knew what he did and tried desperately to convince him to do it in a way that wouldn’t kill him in the end. And Danny wished he knew how to do it for them. He wished he knew how to be the sort of man who might get a happy ending, the sort of man who could die peacefully of old age someday instead of the sort destined to bleed out in a back alley gasping and wheezing and waiting for help that would never come. He wanted to be that person for them, but he couldn’t. Most days, he still wasn’t confident he knew how to be a person at all. . Tony was talking to him as if he was one. Tony was talking to him like he was a child, perhaps, but he was talking to him as if he was a person all the same, like he was more than a weapon, and Danny had to remind himself that that meant something. He opened his mouth to say more, to dig his grave a little deeper, but Tony told him to be quiet and Danny had always wanted to do pretty much anything Tony told him to do.

It was Tony’s turn to talk now, Tony’s turn to talk about how buildings didn’t typically fall on men who didn’t run into them when they were already shaking, and Danny winced just a little. “A building fell on Daredevil because I ---” He cut himself off, taking a deep, shuddering breath. How much should he reveal here? How much did he tell Tony about the things Iron Fist had been a part of, the things that happened because of him. As far as the police knew, Iron Fist had been nowhere near Midland Circle. Danny Rand’s involvement in the collapse had been swiftly covered up by Ward, who made a hefty donation and requested that his brother’s trauma not be capitalized on to a very receptive commissioner with a very big check. Danny could tell Tony, right in this moment, that it wasn’t Daredevil’s stupidity that dropped a building on his head --- it was Danny’s. He wondered if that would change Tony’s perspective or make him angrier. . “I know how this ends,” he said instead, quiet and apologetic and utterly unafraid. Danny had always known how this would end, had thought he’d seen the end of it more than once, with Bakuto’s blade slipping silently between his ribs or Harold’s gun aimed firmly at his head or Elektra’s face inches from his own or Davos carving him up or Rhyno’s gang watching him shiver and shake and vomit blood onto the warehouse floor and laughing. Danny knew how this story ended, and he’d made his peace with it. If he died tomorrow, he still would have lived far longer than he had expected. He’d accepted death at ten years old with a plane shaking around him, accepted it again a few months later with sweat beading on his brow and boys his age hitting him over and over and over again because there was no mercy in K’un Lun, not even a little. He’d accepted his death at the mouth of a cave, welcomed it when he stepped inside with nothing but his clenched fists and his aching muscles to face a beast he’d only heard of in storybooks. Death was nothing new, nothing scary. Danny had known it for years.

Tony went on then, talked about why he put on a metal suit, and Danny took a shuddering breath, closed his eyes for a moment as the words rushed out before he could stop them. “So have I,” he blurted, sudden and thick and full of grief. “I’m --- I had a job. I had people to protect, and I failed them, and they’re --- I have things to make up for, too. I have scales to balance.” You are nothing. Danny Rand failed an entire city. The place he was sworn to protect. Sowande’s words echoed in his ear, and they were true. They were true, no matter how many people claimed they weren’t. . When Danny’s plane went down, he’d never considered how it affected other people. He’d been ten years old, had his father’s body and his mother’s screams burned into the forefront of his mind, and thoughts back to New York had never been to think of how the people he’d left behind were coping with his presumed death. He remembered Joy talking about it shortly after he came back, quiet and mournful. He remembered the way Jeri looked at him with more emotion in her expression than he’d ever seen her wear before or since. He remembered Sharon showing up to his office and threatening to kill him for disrespecting the memory of a person she’d loved. He’d heard all those stories, but he’d never really stopped to ponder them.

Not until now.

Tony’s words rung in his ears, and Danny flinched. “I wasn’t…” He started, trailing off because what could he say? I’m sorry my plane went down? I’m sorry you thought I was dead and it broke you? I’m sorry you had to lose me? Danny had been a ghost for a very long time, a child haunting the people who had loved him, sainted by his death. And he was alive now, he was back, but they were still haunted. The ghost of the boy they’d known still hung in the corners of their minds, still rattled chains in the basements and made the floorboards groan. You couldn’t undo fifteen years of grief. . “I’m not trying to,” he said quietly, and it didn’t feel true even if it was. Danny didn’t want to die. He’d realized it all at once in Rhyno’s hideout, when BB crouched beside him and they’d both understood with abject certainty that the gang would be disposing of a corpse by nightfall. Danny didn’t want to die, but he’d still gone after Davos mere hours after he was rescued from that warehouse. He’d still gone out, alone and unarmed, to fight a man who’d already beaten him once, still landed himself in the hospital with doctors who whispered in voices they thought he couldn’t hear about the probability that amputation would be required to save his life. Danny didn’t want to die, but he didn’t know how to stop chasing death, either. He didn’t know how to walk away. “I know.” He said quietly. If any enforcer but Tony had found him, things would be different. Things would be worse.

Danny ran a hand through his hair, eyes burning. “I can’t stop, Tony. I can’t --- The way I was raised, after that plane went down, they taught me… I wasn’t a person to them. I was --- I’m a weapon, Tony, a, a thing, and I don’t --- It was expected there. That I’d… They expected it.” They expected him to die. Some of the kids took bets on it, in the beginning. ’If he lives more than a month, I’ll do your chores for a week.’ ’You can have half my rations for three days if he makes it a year.’ They hadn’t even tried to hide it, had spoken about it clear and outright well within earshot. Danny had grown used to that, over the years. It was how things were. He wasn’t supposed to live. He wasn’t meant to.

TONY: He’d been pretending his entire life. He’d been wearing masks since he was a child, going to galas with his father’s hand digging into his shoulder, leaving bruises in the shapes of his fingertips that expensive material always managed to hide. He’d been pretending from the first second he put on the metal mask in that cave, pretending that he was capable of becoming something bigger than former warmonger, Tony Stark, the boy turned man who was so naive as to believe that the person who helped raise him was incapable of hurting him, incapable of ordering his death.

Obadiah loved him, Tony had reasoned. Obadiah loved him, and he couldn’t possibly have known about any of the deals under the table, couldn’t possibly be the mastermind Pepper said he was. Obadiah loved him, and that was exactly why he wanted Tony dead, because loving Tony Stark had never been easy, not for anyone.

Rhodey’s career almost ended just by associating with him. Pepper was dropped into a blazing fire. Rumiko’s family all but disowned her, Tiberius’ stocks dropped, Sharon was forced to pick him up off the floor and discharge him from hospital, driving home silent and pretending that there wasn’t this large, unspoken thing sitting in the space between the driver and passenger’s seat. Loving Tony meant Maria cried every damn night. Loving Tony was so damn difficult that it made Howard want to hurt him, and he had. . ‘You’ll understand when you’re a parent.’ He’d uttered that more than once. ‘When you’re looking at someone you watched grow up, someone who has disappointed you, lied to you, failed to become what they should be — when that happens, Anthony, you’ll understand that it isn’t as black and white as you seem to think it is.’

Tony was looking at Danny. He was looking at Danny, and he felt like his heart had jumped out of his chest and was spluttering on the pavement between them, sustained only by the muddy water in the puddles of the alleyway, but he didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want anything to hurt him.

All Tony wanted, in that desperate, aching moment, was to bring Danny to a place where they never needed to have a conversation like this again, a place where they didn’t need to dance around the truth for months and years, because the Starks might have lied, the Carters might have made their name out of mistruths, the Rands may have misdirected, but their kids were honest. The three of them, they’d always loved each other different.

They’d always loved each other right.

(Tony was capable of that, after all — of loving someone in the correct way, of not turning into his father. In other circumstances, he may have been relieved. He had other things on his mind at this point in time.) . “Is that how you want it to end?” Tony would understand that, too. He would understand it more than almost anything else, that desperate need to go out in a blaze of glory to prove himself, to tip the cosmic scales, to cleanse his hands, to make himself worthy of being called hero by kids and parents alike. He’d tasted a human death. He didn’t much care for it. He would understand.

Just like Danny understood him.

I have scales to balance. Tony shifted, feeling like the conversation was on a Dutch tilt, like he’d had a few too many and the world wasn’t that blissful blur anymore but something far more disconcerting.

“Okay,” Tony breathed. It took him three attempts to make the word audible. “Okay, you can’t stop. That’s … we can work with that. We can make that happen, but you— if you want to do this, you have a chance now to do it right. Legitimise yourself. Get the protection of the Panel. Think of the good you could do if you didn’t need to look over your shoulder every five minutes for the cops.” Tony sucked in a breath, taking another step forward. “Register that weapon. I know you. I know what you stand for. Other people might not. They wouldn’t get it. If you …”

(It was Maria at the bottom of the marble staircase, head in her hands, shaking it gently when Tony asked if they were leaving after all. It was Steve, looking up, meeting his eye, putting the pen back in its case and walking away, taking the air in the room with him. It was Natasha on that balcony, or Rhodes in a plane saying hanging out with you is bad for our friendship, or Pepper asking what the hell was wrong with him that he could think, even for a moment, she would be okay with…)

“Please,” Tony said, reaching out a hand. “Come with me. Let me fix this, for you. Let me fix all of it.” We don’t have much time.

DANNY: In the months after he was brought into K’un Lun, after the wounds from the plane crash had healed and he had learned to breathe around the biting cold of air far crisper than even the coldest winters in New York, Danny had developed a habit of running away. It happened often in the beginning, so much so that sometimes he’d find Chodok waiting for him at the edge of the city with a knowing expression on his face, sad and disappointed and utterly unsurprised. He never got far, of course --- there was nowhere to go. There was no way out of K’un Lun, wouldn’t be until the gate opened fifteen years later, but Danny hadn’t wanted to believe that back then. He’d struggled to understand the complexities, had a hard time wrapping his mind around the new rules that seemed so strange compared to what he’d grown up with. How could something be there and then not be there? How could there be a way out one day and nothing the next? How could he exist for the rest of his life in a place that had made it so abundantly clear to him just how little he belonged?

He remembered Chodok, on one of the occasions he found him waiting at the gate for the next grand escape, looking especially exhausted. ’Why do you do this?’ He’d asked, frustrated and at his wits end and sounding more like a father than anyone else in the city had ever bothered and Danny had felt a rush of anger and grief so unexpected it had nearly knocked him off his feet. He’d wanted to scream, wanted to pound his tiny fists against the ground as if he had the strength to bend it to his will, to make it into something familiar and safe and home. His throat had felt tight and Chodok’s hand’s gripping his shoulders had been the only thing keeping him upright. ’I was trying to go home,’ he’d said, quiet and mournful. ’I’ve been trying to go home, I just want to go home and no one will let me. Why won’t you let me?’ . The outburst was embarrassing in hindsight, so childish that Danny felt humiliated at the memory, but the sentiment remained. There were days, even now, when he looked out into the city’s skyline and the thought would cross his mind, strong and certain and utterly nonsensical. I want to go home. Why can’t I go home? It reminded him of sitting in a helicopter with Colleen, of coming back to New York after months away, of looking down at the lights and feeling nothing where he should have felt safety. ’That’s the beauty of it,’ she’d said, ’it can be whatever you need it to be.’ ’What do you need it to be?’ He’d asked, because maybe if he knew her answer he could puzzle out his own. And she’d said home, like that was all there was to it, like one word was a complete sentence, and Danny felt nothing. He’d fought like hell to get back to New York, had nearly died for the city a hundred times over, and he felt nothing.

It took him a long time to understand why. It took him years to realize that it wasn’t buildings or sidewalks that got him out of bed in the middle of the night to run barefoot through the snow, desperate for a way back. It wasn’t his family’s old brownstone or his father’s office that tightened his chest with grief and rage and confusion when Chodok asked him why he insisted on running away time and time again. It was never New York that Danny was trying to get back to. It was Ward. It was Joy, it was Sharon. It was Tony.

Tony, who was looking at him like he’d ripped his heart out of his chest. Tony, who had accepted him back into his life as if he’d never left it, who had never once questioned where he had been or why he was different or why sometimes it seemed to hurt him just to breathe. Tony, who must have known all along that Danny had a nighttime hobby but who had never quite let it come to the surface because knowing meant he’d have to act on it.

Tony, who looked just as frustrated and tired now as Chodok had back then. . It occurred to Danny, quite suddenly, that there had been more than one driving factor in his grief that day with Chodok’s hands on his shoulders. It occurred to him that he’d spoken of home, but that hadn’t been all he’d wanted to say. The words hit him now all at once, quiet thoughts soaked in a child’s anger. Why didn’t you let me stay with you? Why did you give me away to Lei Kung? He doesn’t even like me, but you do. You’re the only person here who’s ever been nice to me, and you gave me away. Chodok must have known, when he’d found a boy in the snow, what would happen to him in K’un Lun. He must have known what he’d go through. He must have known they’d warp Danny into a weapon, must have known they’d beat him and berate him and hurt him, and he’d still done it. Danny thought, back then, that Chodok was the only person who’d never hurt him, but he had. Maybe not directly, but he had.

And now here was Tony, with that same expression on his face, and one key difference Danny recognized with ease --- Tony would never hurt him. Tony loved him the way Chodok couldn’t, the way Lei Kung and Harold couldn’t, the way maybe even Wendell couldn’t. Without consequence. Without condition. Danny had gone against him in a way that would have been punishable by death in K’un Lun, in a way that would have made Tony well within his rights to put him in cuffs and take him to the Raft, and Tony didn’t. He wouldn’t. There weren’t many people who loved Danny like that, and he thought Tony might have been first. He thought Tony might have been the first person to look at him, before K’un Lun and the plane crash and everything else, and decide he was worth loving.

He hoped letting him down wouldn’t change that. . “No,” Danny said, too quickly for it to be true. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and swallowing before amending. “I don’t know.” He knew how it was supposed to end for him. He knew he’d been meant to die on that mountainside, when the Hand’s soldiers invaded the path he was supposed to guard. The Iron Fist was always supposed to die an honorable death in battle, and there was no K’un Lun left to die for but there were still battles to be fought. If he lost his life in one, maybe it would make up for the battle he’d missed. Maybe the only way you could find redemption was through death.

Tony went on then, offered options, and Danny felt like he was suffocating just a little. Register that weapon. Could he do that? It left a sour taste in his mouth, twisted a knot in his stomach that he didn’t understand. “Tony…” The name fell from his lips in a whisper, and it sounded like an apology, even to him. How could he explain it? How could he talk about K’un Lun, about the lasting damage done to him there? He’d belonged to someone once. He’d been a thing, and they had owned him. He existed for them, bled for them, would die for them, and they’d treated him with as much respect as they treated their swords. You kept a weapon sharp, you kept it clean. You gave it a sheath to rest in, you recognized its power when it was in your hands. You showed a weapon respect, you understood the danger it represented.

You didn’t love it. . You didn’t call a weapon by its preferred nickname. You didn’t ask it how it felt about the solution you used to clean it with. You didn’t value its opinion, you didn’t tuck it into bed at night, you didn’t hold it close when it woke up screaming, didn’t wipe away its tears when it cried. When a weapon had an owner, it couldn’t be loved. And Danny wanted, with the same childlike desperation that inspired his outburst in Chodok’s arms more than a decade ago, to be loved.

If he signed the Accords, it wouldn’t make people love him less. He knew that. On a logical level, he knew that. But the heart was not a logical organ, and his was beating so quickly in his chest that some paranoid part of him feared his ribs might break. “I can’t,” he said quietly. “Tony, I just can’t.”

TONY: He wasn’t talking half as much as he was ten minutes ago. Danny wasn’t arguing, wasn’t trying to plead his case. He wasn’t putting the pen back in the case like Steve, or reaching a hand out to him like Sam had on the grass that day. He wasn’t looking at Tony how Obadiah used to, like he was exhausted and frustrated and disappointed all in one, like he couldn’t understand how Tony could be so intelligent and still unable to grasp what he conceived to be simple facts of the universe, and he sure as hell wasn’t looking at Tony like Howard used to.

He was looking at Tony a little how Maria used to, though — a little like Tony was breaking his heart. Tony decided not to think too much into that.

Maybe this would be easier if Danny was arguing. Maybe it would be easier for Tony to say he was convinced to let Danny go, or that he was persuaded to break the code that he’d signed up to enforce, if his cousin was standing in front of him in a goddamn bandana making a case for his vigilante activities that Tony had been resolutely ignoring for the past six months (years, really. Not just months. Years, since he came back).

Tony could’ve been dead in Afghanistan. He could’ve been dead and he wouldn’t even have the chance to stand in front of Danny and make a decision that should be difficult.

It wasn’t difficult.

“Stop,” Tony said, raking his fingers through his hair. What he’d give to be a few shots down right now — and with that thought, memories came flooding back of Sharon, barely out of high school, coming to sign him out of the hospital because he didn’t want Obie to see him, because of the shame that came with it. Memories came flooding back of Pepper, and of Rhodes falling, and of Steve in Siberia, and … . He turned from Danny. A tactical misstep, undoubtedly, but Tony wasn’t thinking tactically. He knew Danny wasn’t going anywhere. He knew that, because he knew Danny.

He also knew something else. He ran his hands down over his face, eyes burning, and turned back to meet his cousin’s eye.

“Just because you love someone,” he started, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you’re good for them, right? Just because … I mean, I’m not good.” The suit whirred as his hand went to his chest. “This thing, it’s never— I’ve never worked right. I’ve always been hard, you know, difficult to …”

Tony sucked in a breath. FRIDAY was in his ear, despite the mute order. (He really needed to work on obedient artificial intelligence — but like his friends, Tony always preferred having bots around him that were willing to call him out. A moral compass of his own creation.) They didn’t have much longer.

They didn’t have any longer. A holograph appeared from the arm of Tony’s suit, detailing several targets (colleagues) a few metres from the alleyway.

He looked up once more. “I want to be good for someone. I need that.”

A long sigh, and the helmet formed over his head. “No wonder I’m in permanent heart failure,” he muttered. “Come on, idiot. My co-workers are coming, and if they get a shot in on us, I’ll die of embarrassment before I get to kill you.”

DANNY: When Danny was ten years old, his childhood ended in a heartbeat. He was a boy one moment, sitting on a plane and listening to music that was probably a little too old for him, staring out the window at mountaintops that looked so small. Then the world started to shake and the plane started to groan and all at once, life as he knew it was over. His mother was sucked into open air, his stomach bottomed out, his father’s voice grew more and more desperate until he couldn’t hear it at all. Danny hadn’t died in that crash, but the boy he’d been when he stepped on that plane? He was gone the moment the debris hit the snow.

There were no children in K’un Lun. It was Davos who told him that, Davos who sat beside him when he was terrified and desperate and trying to understand what was going on, why he was being beaten and pushed and hurt even when he hadn’t done anything wrong. We’re kids, he’d said, almost pleading as he gripped bruised ribs and tried not to cry. Why are they hurting us? We’re just kids. And Davos, if anything, had been confused. He hadn’t understood that, in other parts of the world, things were different. He hadn’t been familiar with cultures that saw children as precious things to protect. There are no children in K’un Lun, Danny, he’d said, in what Danny figured now was a tone as close to gentle as he’d known how to make it. We’re weapons. And so he had been. For fifteen years, he had been a weapon instead of a child, a thing instead of a person. . But he didn’t feel like that now. Standing in this alley, with Tony across from him, Danny felt like he was nine years old again. He felt like a child, being scolded by a parent. He felt like he had when he’d knocked his mother’s wine glass off the table and shattered it against the floor, when his father sat him down and lectured him on caution. It’s so easy to break things, Danny, he’d said, it’s so easy to do damage. It’s hard not to. It’s hard to be good. We have to try anyways.

Danny’d broken something much worse than a wine glass now. He’d broken a law, broken more than one law, actually. He’d broken Tony’s trust, too. (And he’d broken more than that. A quick flash of a memory popped into his mind --- the Reaper, blood on his lips, grinning up at Danny. This is my favorite part. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Danny’s throat felt tight.)

He’d opened his mouth again, to explain or to argue or to beg forgiveness, but he snapped it shut quickly when Tony told him to stop. Obedience was an easy habit to fall back on after K’un Lun, especially when he was on edge. Tony wasn’t Lei Kung or Priya, wasn’t Yu-Ti or Master Khan. He wouldn’t beat Danny into submission if he didn’t comply without question. But Danny’s mind was split between two places, and there was some comfort in doing what you were told when you were at a loss. There was some comfort in silence, too. . Tony turned away from him, and Danny squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath. He was disappointed, he knew. He’d disappointed Tony, and that was the last thing he’d ever wanted to do. “You’re one of the best people I know,” he offered quietly, because it was true. “I’m not…” he trailed off, chest aching. “I’m not what anyone wanted me to be. I don’t know how to be what anyone wants me to be. Not you, or Ward, or Sharon, or Colleen, or…” He trailed off, smiling tightly and giving his head a self-deprecating shake. If he listed all the people he’d let down, he knew, they’d spend all night in this alley.

Something was happening inside the suit, and Danny wasn’t a smart man but he could guess what. Tony had been here too long, and enforcers didn’t work alone. Someone else was going to come soon. Someone who wouldn’t want to talk things over, someone who didn’t love him enough to forgive his transgressions.

For a moment, the whole world seemed to hold its breath. Danny was pretty sure Tony wouldn’t arrest him, but he didn’t quite relax until Tony told him to come on. His shoulders slumped and he nodded his head slightly. He moved to follow Tony before hesitating, pausing with one foot still lifted in a half-step. “You’re going to get in trouble for this, aren’t you?” For helping him. For loving him.

TONY: Being a good man always came with too many terms and conditions for it to be something Tony genuinely strived for. Being a good man meant making choices that cost people their livelihoods. It meant dropping bombs in foreign countries and focusing purely on the statistics of such a move instead of the human impact. It meant saying no when you wanted to say yes, saying yes when you wanted to say no. It meant hurting the people you cared about and spending your entire life following those you didn’t, because they’d offer you a leg up the career ladder, or get you that coveted contract.

“No,” Tony said, holding his hand up. “We’re not doing that, okay? We’re not. I … I’m not the guy people put weight on, alright?” Tony was the fixer. He always had been for those he cared about, for those he didn’t, for his family and friends and strangers all in one. He was the guy people went to when they needed out of a bad situation, but the second people started loving him, the second they shifted into thinking of him as more than just a means to an end, the second they started looking at him like he knew Danny was behind that bandana, things changed. That was when people could really hurt you, when they could get inside you and twist you inside out, when they could let you down.

He’d already dragged Steve down with him, a truly good man, a man who deserved so much better than anything Tony could give. He wasn’t going to do the same thing to Danny, not without a warning. Not without a comprehensive list outlining all the reasons why Tony Stark wasn’t someone to consider a hero. . “You don’t need to know who you are,” Tony replied. “You don’t. You … I know you’re going to hate me for saying this, but you’re young, Danny. You’re so fucking young. You’re … I was still selling weapons when I was your age. I still believed Obie wasn’t trying to put a hit out on my head. I was still calling Ru every time I got drunk, and you, you didn’t even get your childhood. You didn’t get to be a teenager. You’re young. Your mistakes, they still count, but they’re not … you’re not irredeemable. You’re not.”

No one was. Not even Tony, not even when he found that hard to accept.

You’re going to get in trouble for this, aren’t you? Tony hesitated, just for a moment, then shrugged a shoulder. “I’m already in a shit load of trouble, Danny,” he said. “Helping you isn’t going to be the thing that drags me down.” As it had always been, Iron Man’s greatest foe was himself.

And then the Enforcers arrived, providing a rather convenient outlet for the anger that particular thought prompted. “Keep tight,” Tony called over, “but the second you see a gap, you get out.” With that, and trusting that for once Danny would listen to a word he said, Tony sent a blast towards one of the Enforcers, knocking them back before their weapon could fire.

This was going to be so much paperwork.

[honestsycrets]

No Thieves Welcome XX: Mads

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | hvitserk comes to see the reader grieving the loss of his children, finding a surprise.

❛  warnings | deceit, heartbreak, grieving, loss, breakups.

❛ sy’s notes | if you’re still here, i’ll see you in my sequel What She Really Wants under NTW’s masterlist.

Far’s things are in a cardboard box you close up, smoothing clear tape over the lips. Most of the house is packaged for the move cities away. Today is graduation but as you told mother, you weren’t up to it. Something about having your father here just… a week or two ago, and now, he was gone didn’t sit well with you. The only thing you were grateful for was actually getting your diploma with the year you had. Your grades slipped from glorious A’s with sprinkled B’s to… dare you say it, Cs. Despite that, you think that your nearly perfect years will help you in college. 

When you take it, that is.

You pad out of your mother’s room and toward your own, looking around the empty hallway. Studs stick from the wall where pictures of a happy family were. The illusion is gone now. You’re only left with the sticky reminder of the tape that held your heart together.

 You’ve begun to pack your clothes into a giant box for the big move Monday. There’s still momentos all over the place. On your dresser, a framed image of Asta’s bright smile in galaxy painted lips. She isn’t smiling much from prison. Your father in Tivoli, holding you pridefully in his arms against a backsplash of bright lights and stringy plants. He’s not prideful anymore. He’s dead. As dead as a man could get cremated into a small tin of ashes that mother separated between the two of you. 

Keep him in your memory, she said.

Then there was the vanishing child. Your heart hadn’t the time to grieve. You stand by a full-length mirror, dragging your palm over your distended stomach. Hvitserk had not spoken to you since that day. He carried his head lower still when you passed by with Magnus. Good. It was better that way.

Just then, your phone chimes. You pick it up, tapping the app that alerts you when someone is at your front door. You tap ‘live,’ finding your ex-boyfriend is just there. His hands are in his pockets, rain downpouring. His fluffy black hoodie soaked, matted to his sloppy bun. You’re lucky your mother is always working. 

“I’m coming,” you say into your phone. 

Hvitserk turns his head up, nodding with a sway of his body. You go downstairs, holding the railing as you bound down the steps to the front door. Your hand hovers at the handle, composing yourself. You push open the handle and open the door. Hvitserk stands there, eyes rimmed by red as if he’d been crying. Your heart pangs. 

“Hi babe,” he says, a waft of alcohol punches your stomach. You stand aside, letting him step onto the welcome mat inside the home. It’s too cold to be standing outside. You clear your throat when he stops, looking down his sopping wet shorts. The rainwater dribbles over the welcoming mat.

“Think I have a change of clothes for you somewhere.” 

You slip up the stairs and into your bathroom, pulling the fresh emergency pair of clothes. You never asked much of Hvitserk when he came splattered with blood or with injuries that you couldn’t begin to make sense of. A good wife didn’t ask questions. That was what Aslaug always told you. 

“It’s just a t-shirt and some shorts,” you clear your throat. “They’re yours. I have your other clothes somewhe--” 

In a swift motion, Hvitserk pulls you in. His hands don’t wander toward your ass for a grab or cheek for a kiss. They tighten around your back, tugging you forward and into him. Hvitserk’s nose cradles in your hair, breathing in your newest perfume of peonies. A bottle your father meant to give you, with a graduation anklet from a luxury brand. As you learned, he also planned to give you a necklace with two charms when your twins were born. You couldn’t face opening that yet. 

“Hvitserk--” 

“You look good,” he pulls back, wiping wet tears on his wet hoodie. Your eyebrows push together when you nod, looking him over. His well-corded arms reflect that he’s been in the gym instead of the last week of school. Alcohol on his breath indicates that afternoons are spent at the bottle.

“You look… exhausted.” 

“Yeah uh--” Hvitserk looks down to his change of clothes. “Graveyard shift. Uncle Rollo’s taking off to France.” 

“That’s a lot of responsibility,” you remark awkwardly. Your kettle in the kitchen screeches, interrupting you from your words. “I’m gonna go get that. You can get changed.” 

You’ll need that Bubble Tea to deal with Hvitserk. You step off to the side toward your kitchen, fixing your drink of black tea once testing the heat of the water. Burnt bitter tea is gross tea after all. He’d know you were leaving. As you mix quick cooking boba balls, you have to know that he’ll know. Once he knows…

“You’re gonna leave?” Hvitserk’s voice cracks. 

To protect your son, you think. You briefly glance over your shoulder, taking him in. You recall that shirt fitting looser. Not… clinging, as much as it did. “Mor has some connections up in Aarhus to get me into school. And… she can’t really live here without seeing Far,” you drain your boba and begin to assemble it. There’s nothing as gratifying as spilling the cream into the cup. 

“(Y/N) I--” 

“It’s okay, Hvitserk. What happened… it wasn’t your fault. We lost them,” one, you think, one. “...and these things just happen sometimes. Plenty of women have miscarriages.” 

Except that wasn’t the whole picture. The whole picture-- the truth was, you were still pregnant with his child. He should have been a happy father waiting by your side. Mor was right, you tell yourself. Your little boy wouldn’t be safe with his father.

“I could have done somethin’. I even named my fuckin’ kids-- Mads… for the boy and I thought, ya know, you’d name her something stupid.” The side of his lips pull down into a tight whisper. You shift, turning around with a cool drink in your hands. You set a hand to his forearm, steadying his spiraling thoughts from self-deprecation. His eye falls down to your hand. You’re still wearing his ring.

“Listen to me,” you say, shaking his forearm for emphasis. “There is nothing you could have done. If not that day, another day. I was wrong when I blamed you, Hvitserk. Those were-- those were hateful words.” 

“Okay?” you emphasize. 

“Yeah… okay.” he says, though sounding unconvinced. You remove your placating hand from his arm and settle a tea in his hand. He looks down upon it otherwise unmoved. 

“You know I don’t like this shit. Gimme the headaches.” Hvitserk tips the tea up, his eyes flickering up toward you. He holds your look as you stand upright, hand upon your hips now. 

“It’s good for you.” 

“Not after that much shit you put in.” He laughs but drinks it anyway, wrinkles forming between his eyebrows when he manages to down it. 

“Oh, it’s not that bad. You’re full of shit.” 

“Yeah, you too.” Hvitserk pushes himself off the side of the counter, gathering his wet clothes. You supply him with a bag to take them home. He throws it over his shoulder, still smiling to himself. He wants to tell you to keep the ring. That you earned it. That… it was meant for you. But he’s afraid you’ll take it off. “Guess I better head the fuck out before your mother gets here. Bitch sent me some mean--” 

You lean forward, reprimanding yourself as you do so, and grasp his face between your hands. You tug him into your hard kiss, slanting your lips over Hvitserk’s own. His hold slackens on the bag, clattering over your pink painted toes. The coldness of the laundry causes them to shift into a lavender. Your tongue flicks and curls against his own-- and he loses his modest appearance, grabbing your ass and squeezing you tight. Your stomach hits his, and you watch the confusion over his face. 

“Surgery,” you explain just as mother told you to. “Do you... wanna stay the night?” 

Stay the night. He sucks in a breath, hopeful for what those words could mean. The storm raging outside and your hand drifting between the waistband of his shorts tell him that you indeed mean it as he hopes. Your voice strained as if the words trickle slowly through a sieve. “One last time?” 

“Yeah,” Hvitserk says. This half-formed plan to get you back a failure. He wouldn’t beg. But he would hope. He’d always hope you would make your way back to him. “That’d be great.” 

That winter the flurrying of the snow feels all the more pronounced. 

Maybe its the fact that you took that fall off of school. Mother said to enjoy your pregnancy-- what was left of it. But it felt... all the more lonely without someone to enjoy it with. 

Your mother tried, that was a fact, but she wasn’t Hvitserk. Not that you... needed him there. Mother was providing well. Come spring you would go back to school, take your courses in engineering, and get on with your life.

The cold of that December day was lost on you that night. Perhaps because the pains started the morning before-- early at three in the morning. They carried on. Past noon, past dinner time and into the wee hours before the next day. 

“And good-- one more,” your mother says, crouched by your bed which overlooks the large window. You push once again and there’s a cry-- a painless delivery despite the chaos of months earlier. The cries are loud, and you drop your head, exhausted from the pain stretching your womb the whole day. After the miracle of life, you were afraid to use pain treatment. 

“He looks like his father,” your mother announces, pulling the child free. You look up, gripping the necklace around your neck tight. You had a near death grip on it this whole time. 

“He does,” another voice comes from beside you. You glance up to Asta at the foot of the bed. Her charges had been dropped-- and thankful as you were, you knew Ragnar had something to do with it. She was here on return from studying abroad in America and you couldn’t be more thankful. Even if she had done time, she was here now. In a week or two, she’d return to Copenhagen. 

“Great, tell me he doesn’t have his eyes.” you whine, your mother’s work quickly done with the help of one of her trusted co-workers. More best friend at this point, then co-worker. After the afterbirth was delivered, and that incessant shoving on your womb was done, Asta came by your side. She closes the blinds shut, kneeling before you. 

“He does, oh god.” You laugh, bringing him into your arms. Near existant tufts of blond hair and the eyes in the same shape... you look over his forehead and slim lips, noting to yourself just how much of his father’s image he was. Even as a baby.

He’s going to be trouble.

“He’s so cute,” Asta whispers, knocking her forehead against the side of your head like an affectionate puppy. You relax into her, rubbing your thumb over his full and lightly rosy cheeks. “What are you going to call him?” 

“Mads,” you answer immediately. “Just like his father wanted.”

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