#im so fucking out of breath now though i almost stacked it on the stairs horrendousstyle

[sleepy-stitches]

"please do not run at the train doors as they are closing" okay have you considered im the hottest sexiest girl alive and i dont want to wait five whole minutes for the next train

[jangofctts]

Bloodsport (din djarin x fem!reader) (part one) 

rated: 18+

word count: 5.4k

warnings: smut, knife kink (no blood is drawn and consent is clearly given), blowjobs, vaginal fingering, din is sorta a virg duDE, alcohol, mentions of violence (reader punches someone in the face kwejrkejh), some gambling (sabaac) also please let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: oOf this is the first fic in sO LONG IM SO SORRY YALL KEHJRKEJH BUT ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY

It’s been a couple months since Din’s stepped foot on the sandy nightmare of a planet. Went through hell and back and kriff—it feels like a lifetime ago. But the landscape before him hasn’t changed an inch, Mos Eisley same as always—busy with all sorts of scum and villainy he turns a blind eye to. 

Din hopes it’s not the only thing that’s stayed the same—selfish as it is. Someone as volatile as you is bound to catalyze and shift, so is the nature of life. A lot can happen in a month or two and it’s ridiculous to think that you would ever push your life to the side and wait for him to return.    

Turns out, you are here, still working as the resident mechanic. Though in the same elated breath of hearing that tidbit of news, it’s equally dissatisfying when he somehow misses you completely. You’re off planet, looking for power converters and electrical wiring—back in few days Peli promises. Maybe by the time his wild goose chase is over, back from the butt fuck middle of nowhere, he’ll get to see you— 

Nothing goes as planned—naturally. All Din finds is a man playing dress up, an oversized lizard, planetary drama he’s forced to resolve and—to top it all off—an attempted stickup. Maker—he’s not even worried about anything save for the kid and your speeder. The very same one now scattered over the sand in miserable heaps.           

At least some of it is salvageable…

By the time Din reaches the outskirts of Mos Eisley, the binary suns are smearing across the horizon like molten puddles of magma. Deep aches amass in his shoulders and back from the weight of the speeder parts, his gear, and the second pair of armor. Maker—it feels like his arms are going to be ripped off.

The baby babbles something incomprehensible. 

“Almost there, kid,” Din responds, sparing a quick glance down the baby. “How does soup sound?”

Instead of trudging back to the hangar, Din wanders to the cantina. Call it a hunch or just you and your aunt’s tendency to lurk around the premises, he’s certain he’s going to find one of you here. 

Din is right.

The moment he steps inside, he spots your mess of hair, the low solar lights illuminating the rich colors with a soft orange. The baby coos and blinks up at Din, his tiny clawed finger gesturing in your direction. 

Din hums. “Good job—you found her.” 

The child’s little teeth peek out, pleased with his discovery. Din steps into the doorway, down the carven stairs and over to your table. A older man—a ship rigger by the looks of his uniform—sits across from you, a game of Sabaac spread across the table between you. You’re winning. 

“Hello, Shiny.” You greet, dipping your chin in his direction. “Your armor is looking a tad ripe.” 

It’s true. The layer of slime coating his armor had baked and crusted under the suns—probably doesn’t smell too good either… 

“I killed a Krayt dragon.” Din states it with a twinge of smug satisfaction despite knowing how little something like that would mean to you. He could conquer three dozen planets and shower you in all the precious metals in the world and you’d still turn your nose up at everything.  

“And I curb stomped a centipede today—you aren’t special.” Your eyes never leave the set of worn cards you hold between your fingers, acutely ignoring him like you would an overly enthusiastic puppy. You inhale and scrape your right thumbnail along the edge of the hexagonal cardstock—it’s a subtle tell, one Din would more than likely miss if he were the unlucky bastard brave enough to sit at the other end of the table.  

“You playin’ or what?” Your opponent gripes. He scratches his unkempt salt and pepper stubble and quirks a furry brow. 

You lift your chin in scorned defiance and lay your hand down—full Sabaac. The man hisses through his crooked, clenched teeth and utters a curse as he shoves his winnings towards your end of the table.  

“Peli promised me information.” Din pushes, hearing the kid coo in curiosity as you begin shuffling the cards with practiced flare. “About others like me.”

“Do I look like my aunt to you?” You grumble. It’s the first time your eyes leave the perimeter of the game to look at him. They settle on the kid first with a guarded version of compassion, then leap to the faded green armor clipped to the heavy luggage, and then his visor. Your lip twitches at the green slime still coating the beskar. “I’m assuming my speeder didn’t make it.”

“A technical difficulty.”

You roll your eyes and snort, dealing out the cards then setting the stack in the middle. “Right…”

The background ambiance of the bar and the quiet rasp of cards fill the brief lull in conversation. Any other rational person would take the blaring hint to leave, but Din is just as stubborn as you are. 

“I don’t remember where the hangar is,” Din lies, cocking his head to the side in mock innocence, “could you show me?” 

The tip of your tongue peaks out of the corner of your mouth. The unconscious tic is not one of irritation—not yet. Though before you’re able to respond, your opponent beats you to it. 

“Yeah—I know where it is. It’s between fuck off and take a hike.”  

Din turns his head, the cool, even tone of his words sharper than shrapnel as he address the man. “I was speaking to her.”        

This is funny to you Din realizes—one of the tiny mysteries of your entirety clicking into the place of the puzzle map he’s conjured for you. 

“Well, I don’t have the time of day for cowards who wear shiny buckets over their head.” The man gripes into his drink, dark eyes flicking over to Din as he sizes him up. “What’s a Mandalorian doing out here anyway? Thought your planet exploded or something.”

The man’s ignorance irks him—sure. How could it not? But with years of harsh words and jabs at the foundation of Din’s very being, he’s learned to adapt. It’ll always sting no matter how many layers of beskar he wears but you on the other hand…

Your eyes spark, molten and bright like the last solar flare on the surface of a decaying star. Each encounter Din’s had with you, he’s bared witness to the deep well of your anger that fuels your being like the auto-mechanical heart of a droid. He’s felt the bite of your rage firsthand, but this anger—this is the tragedy of the delicate mayfly wings trapped between the black teeth of misfortune—the story of the boy who rammed a spear into the flank of an ancient beast that bites before it barks and gnashes its yellowed teeth in warning.

Din’s hand inches towards his blaster. He’s not willing to weigh the safety of the kid against your rash decisions, despite it being on his behalf.   

Though, just as quick as it appears, it recedes like the cool drawback of a tumultuous ocean. Din’s arm relaxes at his side as you release a puff of air. 

Your scuffed up fingers, stained with years of engine grease, scars and dirt, curl around your half finished drink. You stand, lay your cards face down onto the table and flash the stranger a feral grin.

Without a word, you toss your drink directly into the man’s unsuspecting eyes. In another breath, the pointed edges of your knuckles fly forward and hook beneath the point of his chin with a meaty thunk. The man’s head whips backwards and connects with the gravely wall—

Out like a light.  

Jaw clenched tight, you shake out your bleeding knuckles and gather up the strewn credits over the table. You shove them into the pockets of your jacket and side eye Din. “Restitutions for damages,” you mutter. 

The other patrons keep their eyes to themselves as the three of you hurry out the door. Only an apathetic glance from the bar tender serves as proof that something did, in fact, occur. No one wants to dirty their nose sniffing about where they shouldn’t be when they have their own business to safeguard.

The crisp night air rustles the stray strands of hair that escape from your ponytail. Ghostly moonlight carves the shape of your cheeks into an almost ethereal sight—one of those deep space creatures with pointy teeth and hellfire for eyes. Stuff of legends you’d never think to look in a dingy bar for.     

But he knows—Din knows that cool mask is just a front from what you hide. It is a hungry ghost that hounds your thin stretched shadow—what ifs and the glories of war you never really escaped. You forget that you are flesh and blood and ghosts are only air and echoes, nothing more. 

Din is sharp edged steel. A stray fragment of a shattered mirror, the lacerated reflection of a nameless purpose and a faceless existence. He’s torn edges and cracked glass but his heart beats within his chest with the blood of a thousand suns. Two souls under the umbrella of the word damaged but entirely different in nature.     

“No one—“ you growl, your voice a steady and lethal timbre that terrifies a part of Din’s unconsciousness, “—speaks that way to my friends.” 

Touching. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Creature,” you huff, staring down at the child who gurgles in return. “He deserved it—“

The reunion certainly wasn’t the one Din imagined, though it’s a relief to find that there’s no roughened edge like sandpaper over skin wedged between you. Picked up right where you left off—no questions asked and no inglorious retelling of how Din nearly died on the floor of a shitty cantina. There’s not a doubt in his mind that you'd laugh at him for it—it is sorta funny…   

The rest of the evening is spent walking back to the hangar, arguing over the fact that yes Din should take the couch instead of that miserable little hovel he calls a bed, and spend the night. He’d have to find some other mechanic to work through the night if he wanted to leave in the morning, because you certainly did not want to volunteer for that. And so—Din reluctantly takes the couch and agrees to let you tackle the monstrosity of fixing up his ship for tomorrow. 

He has to admit…the couch is a bit smaller than the length of his body, but it’s comfortable…maybe he’d buy a better blanket while he was here. As a treat.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

You purse your lips and whistle. “I swear each time I see it, it gets worse. Y’know, I know a couple guys selling—“ 

“Can you fix it?”

You fold your arms over your chest and roll your eyes.“Yeah I can fix it, jeez—no need to get your undies in a twist.” 

You try not to take offense, because hey—you’re offering him the info on the good deals on new ships (and at this point anything would be better than this old rust bucket). But if Din doesn’t want anything to do with that, then whatever. His loss.   

When you wander onto the ship, toolbox in hand, the Mandalorian tags along. Unsure if he doesn’t trust you with his things or just wants to hang out, it blankets the space with an air of uncertainty. Turns out it was neither of those guesses. All he does is throw open his stash of weapons, collect his pile of vibroknives, and set them on a table to polish and sharpen. 

Makes sense, you suppose. Everything has to be as shiny as his armor. 

You drop to your knees near the closest wiring panel you find. You wrench open the paneling and frown at the disarray of sparking wires and tangled cords. You organized these perfectly last time he was here. “Who the fuck junked up my rigging?”

Mando sits at the little table tucked away in the corner, brooding over his cache of weapons. He shrugs. “Could’ve come loose when I landed.” 

You roll your eyes at his half assed excuse and mutter a foul string of curses under your breath that’d make even Peli wince. It’s fine. It’s cool—no biggie. You can sort through this in a couple hours, maybe three. 

But of course rarely anything goes as planned. As time ticks away, arms deep in wires older than the kriffing Clone Wars, the distractions begin. The scrape of metal on durasteel makes the hair rise into little pricks all up your arms—you shoot a glare over your shoulder. Din tilts his head, your kneeling self reflecting within the ever dark visor, features scrunched into an obvious tell of annoyance. Huffing, you bury your head back into your task at hand. 

The second distraction arrives in the form of a quiet hum of curiosity originating from the Mandalorian. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bring a vibroblade up to his visor, inspecting the notch in the blade that disrupts the electrical current that flows through the weapon. Din then rubs his thumb over the handle of the vibroblade in a slow, sensual circle. You lick your lips and tear your eyes away. That shouldn’t be hot.

You furrow your brows and tear apart another wire, but the metallic tap, tap, tap of Din bouncing the tip of a different blade over the table is bothersome. You swing your head to your left, mouth parting to snap at him, but his hand—sans glove—brings you to a halting stop. 

It’s alluring, the way his long, weathered fingers twirl the knife with practiced ease—like silk through water and followed by the low hum of electricity meant to slice through flesh. Din tosses it in the air, watching it spin three rotations then catches it by the handle. Your lips purse when his visor meets your eyes. He spins it between his fingers.  

“Am I bothering you?”

Fucker.   

You scowl. “It’s fine.” 

The soft rasp of his thumb sliding along the flat of the blade entices the eye and damnit—he’s doing this on purpose. 

“Doesn’t seem fine,” he hums. 

“Well, it is.” You retort hotly. You snatch up your pliers and imagine you’re pulling his teeth out in place of the crooked paneling. “I’m currently thriving in my element.”  

Din hums, the sound buzzing with grainy distortion. “Do you want a closer look?”

You chew your bottom lip. He’s playing with an open flame and you with volatile jet fuel. 

“I don’t know, seems kinda lame from here.” You scoff, busying yourself by pinching and twisting another set of frayed wires between your fingertips. “A toothpick if anything.”

Din snorts behind you. The deadly whisper of beskar against the durasteel tabletop makes the hair on the back of your neck prick into points. You tense as heavy boots shuffle along the floor, the near silent rustle of armor tinkling behind you as Din steps closer. You’re slow to stand, even though the presence of the Mandalorian is no less than overbearing. You wipe your grimy hands onto a spare rag, continuing to face the paneling. You then turn, a coy smile threatening to break across your face. 

Stars Din is broad—and close enough you swear you’re able to see the perspiration of your breath fog the beskar plating. Your eyes follow the seams of the cuirass, across the leather bandolier and up to his helmet that’s fixed in an impassive glare of tempered steel. Your back bumps into the wall as Din takes another step forward, boxing you in. To escape you’d need to duck under his arm and yet…you refuse to move.   

Your breath catches as he languidly lifts his hand and taps the flat side of the vibroblade over your collarbone. The sharpened point tickles up the column of your throat, a crackle of nerves and your pounding pulse following in its wake. Din turns the blade to flat edge and pushes into the space right below your jaw—you squirm when he chuckles, the sound low and deep. 

“You like this…”

Din grunts as your hand reaches between his legs, squeezing the growing hardness there. “So do you.” 

Din circles his hand around your wrist with his free palm. Moons above his hands are warm. He murmurs your name—you shiver. “Tell me you want this—want me.”

A blush, hotter than the surface of Tatooine in the midday sun, rushes up your neck and pools into the apples of your cheeks. Maker you want him. With a shuddering sigh you nod—braving the scathing shrapnel of vulnerability. “I need you, Din—please.”

A low chuckle rumbles through Din’s chest. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard you say please before.”

Din drops his hold on your wrist as you roll your eyes. “Shut up, Bucket Head.”

The Mandalorian snorts and dips his head—gesturing towards the blade still lightly pressed against the base of your throat. “This ok too, Skitter?”

You flash him a wolfish grin. “Gonna fuck me with it?”

Din swears under his breath, crowding his body closer to yours. You hear his strained sigh as he dips his head closer, the beskar a chilly whisper against your cheek. “You’re depraved…take off your pants.”

You smirk, tear off your belt and shimmy out of your pants and underwear, bottom half now bare. His visor dips, entranced.  

Your heart leaps into your throat, your pulse roaring in your ears as he settles one of his bare hands over the swell of your hip while the other trails the blunt edge of the handle from your clothes collarbone, and down your belly. From your mid thigh he skates the handle up your bare thigh and then rests it over the crack of your thigh. Heat flushes through your entire body, a stark contrast to the cool metal of the handle. A shiver races down each vertebrae when he drags it over the swell of your cunt and then carefully pressing it against your clit. You gasp and arch into the light touch, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he increases the pressure. It’s cold, rigid and filthy. Who knows where that knife has been—how many lives it’s taken or severed through muscle and skin. 

You don’t find it in you to care all that much.    

He trades his hold on your hip to slide his hand into your shirt, palming and kneading your breast through your bra as you roll and whine against his fingers. The tight circles he's drawing over your clit burns through your abdomen, drags you closer to the precipice that you’re all ready so close to. Fuck—it’s been so long since you’ve indulged in this sort of pleasure.You whine his name as wicked heat licking up your body and spreading to each limb. You arch into him, the handle of his knife slipping through your folds as arousal drips from your cunt.   

Your groan as you tilt your hips into the handle, craving any lick of pleasure he’ll give. Your breath hitches as Din pushes the hilt closer to your throwing entrance, murmuring praise as he sinks the first couple inches inside of you. It’s cold—the knobby feel of the handle not too much thicker than one or two of your fingers combines. You huff and grab at his cowl, the warmth of his hand grazing your pussy each time he rocks his wrist forward. 

“You’re so quiet,” Din goads, pulling the handle free from your aching center. “You usually have plenty to say.” 

You shoot Din a glare, tongue weighed down by arousal to come up with a god retort. You lean your head back against the wall of the Crest and with a chuckle, Din’s hand leaves your shirt to pull you against his chest, the vocoder rumbling against your ear. The blade clatters to the floor and instead brings his calloused fingertips to your cunt. He softly rolls your swollen clit between his forefinger and thumb, delighting in the way you shake. “Be a good little thing and cum for me.”

Shit, you didn’t think it’d be that easy. Your body seizes as white hot heat ripples through your core. Stars, brighter than a dying sun burst behind your eyes, a high pitched cry filtering past your lips as shake and fall apart in his arms, your cunt clenching tight around the thick fingers he slips inside of you. 

You whine as he pulls out, little aftershocks of pleasure wracking through your body in wake of your euphoric high. You groan as he lifts your head and pushes his digits, coated in your juices into your mouth. You lick them clean, tasting the tang of your own arousal and the salt on his skin. “Fuck—that was good.”

You can only imagine that Din rolls his eyes. He takes a step back but before he can escape—

You drop to your knees, a wicked smile curling over your lips. The muscles in his thighs jump as your palms smooth over the outsides of them, then up to his narrow hips, your thumbs lightly massaging the ligaments that protects the fragile joints. Din sucks in a sharp breath when your fingertips hook around his trousers. 

“What are you doing?” Din asks, brushing a thumb over your jaw. 

You pause and glance up at him. You quirk a brow. “Was gonna suck you off, but if you have something else in mind…“ He hisses and tips his head back, flashing the underside of his chin as your hand leaves his hip to cup the heavy bulge tenting in his trousers. 

“Maker—“ He looks off to the side, inhales a choppy breath and then snaps his head back. “You’d…you’d do that?”   

You nod and flash him an encouraging half grin. “Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

Din mumbles an incoherent string of words under his breath and shifts his weight onto his right leg. His fingers touch your cheek again then tuck a loose hair behind your ear. “But—“

Moons above this man is straight out of some kind of fucking fairytale—arguing about getting his dick sucked—or not. 

Whatever.       

“Din…” His breath hitches at the sound of his name. “I’m asking you kindly to fuck my mouth—it’s cool if you don’t wanna, but my knees already kriffing hurt and—“

He cuts you off with a hasty nod. “Yes—stars, please.”

Fuck yeah.

You smile and slide your eyes past Din’s legs to the cargo crate shoved up against the wall. “You should sit—easier that way.”

He nods and shuffles over, lightly perching himself on the edge and ready to flee at the barest hint of well—anything.

Din’s knee jumps when you place your palm over it. You assume his nerves are from the nature of his occupation—trouble always strikes when you least expect it—and what better time would that be when his pants are around his ankles. “Relax—I’m not gonna bite—maybe.”

He makes a wary sound low in his throat as your fingertips hook into the waistband of his trousers and pull. Din lifts up as you tug the fabric further down his legs, tan skin and solid muscle following in its wake. Fuck…

You swallow, mouth feeling quite dry when your eyes drift between his legs. Din is thick, a rosy brown color, flushed at the tip and curling towards his bellybutton. Beads of liquid shine at the tip, dribbling down the underside and pooling into the dark patch of curls at the base. Din’s fingers hook over the side of the crate, squirming under the weight of your stare. 

Yeah—that’s gonna leave your jaw aching.    

You hear his breath hitch, magnified by the crackle of the vocoder as your lips descend over a silvery scar on the inside of his right knee. You pepper a trail of wet kisses and light nips up his thighs, and by the time you reach the crease of his leg, his hips mindlessly rock with need. 

The second the wet warmth of your tongue brushes over the tip of his cock, his hips jolt off the crate, a load groan echoing through the empty ship. It’s like striking a match to an open line of kerosene—devouring and explosive that’ll leave your delicate skin singed. You’re not nervous playing with fire if this barest scrap of wild heat is anything like burning to a crisp. 

Emboldened by his initial reaction, you wrap your hand around the base, pulsing and achingly hard beneath the velvety flesh. You flatten your tongue over the tip, lapping up the sticky liquid the slip the head of him into your mouth. His hands fly to your hair, tightening into fists as he throws his head back. The beskar scrapes over the durasteel with a sharp squeal, but you don’t find it in you to care about the abrasive sound—eardrums be damned.  

“Fuck—kriffing hell—“ Din snarls, arching his hips to seek more of your warmth. “K-keep going.”  

Your own rekindled arousal blazes hot in your core hearing his stuttered pleas. You pull away to catch your breath, feeling almost guilty for doing so at Din’s low whine of protest. He picks his head up, watching as you languidly jerk him off—entranced with the way your hand rolls over the leaking tip, back down to the base, then up again. You could keep him like this—tease until he cracks under the pressure and begs you for whatever iota of pleasure you want to give but—

You’re not that mean.    

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you part your mouth and slide nearly half of his length into your mouth. Din mutters something garbled, his hips jolting as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head.

Din shifts, arching his back and stuttering out broken whispers of encouragement. Placing your hand over his thigh, you can feel his pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips, wild and alive—something real beneath all that heavy armor and unforgiving helmet. 

“You—you look…” He grunts as you hum around around his cock, swallowing him down further. “Shit—you look so p-perfect like this.”

You groan and squeeze your thighs together, attempting to ignore the gnawing hunger snapping at your insides. 

Rolling your tongue along the underside of his shaft, your fingers slide over what your mouth cant reach—squeezing and gently coaxing him towards his high. He seizes up tight—yet, just when you think you’ve got him skidding off that precarious edge—

His hand fists your hair at the base your neck and yanks you off his cock. He huffs, breathy little pants as he folds into himself like he’s been punched in the gut, his head rolling forward onto his shoulder. Din shivers as he scrambles for control, beginning to loose that slippery foothold he’s so intent on maintaining. His cock, flushed an angry red and still slick with your saliva, twitches and throbs for the release so cruelly wrenched away. 

You let him catch his breath. The fingers tangled in your hair go lax and drop away to rest at his sides. You swallow, his previous skittishness suddenly clicking into place. “Din, are you…?” A virgin. Your question tapers off, unsure if it’ll embarrass and scare him off. 

“No,” he answers—not in a sharp way like you’d hear with a bruised ego—just stating a fact. “Just not—not this. Never had someone—stars—“

Your teeth roll your bottom lip between them, forcing your face to remain neutral despite the stroke of pride blooming singing in your chest. You’re his first—lucky enough to make this the best goddamned oral he’ll ever have. Something he’ll remember for years.  

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask, praying to the Maker he’ll say no. 

He shakes his head, sucking in another calming breath and unfurling himself. His fingers clench into fists then relax, crackling with pent up energy and unsure nerves as to where he should put them. You solve it by threading your fingers through his and placing them around you head. 

Your lips quirk. “You’re allowed to cum in mouth—don’t worry about it.”

His cock twitches as a quiet moan fizzles through the modulator. “You su-sure?”

“Oh, yeah.”

With a smile you bring your mouth back to his cock, tongue swiping up the entire length of him. Din groans as the soft warmth of your mouth slips over the flushed tip of cock, his thick length twitching as you hollow out your cheeks and suck. You bob your head as you slowly work him in further because even like this, hardly halfway into your mouth, you feel your lips stretching a bit too much around him. You groan and part your mouth wider, letting him sink into the soft warmth of your throat.  Din inhales, the sound shaky and unsure as his hips twitch with a few tentative thrusts. 

You take it slow—lifting your mouth nearly all the up to the tip then back down to the base. Din rolls his hips, helping you ease into the gentle pace. Saliva drips down his cock and over your knuckles making an absolute mess you have zero intentions of cleaning up. It’s his ship after all. Din swears as his hips stutter, your hand squeeing around him, trying to push him off that edge he so deserves. Din gasps your name, the pitch of his words knocking up to a lighter, more airy tone, warmer than melted butter. 

“Ca-can’t believe, it—ah—it fits.” He groans with astonished reverence. You preen under his praise. 

You swallow around him and grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you let him rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans. 

You can feel is cock twitching over you tongue—he’s close—and when your eyes roll up to meet the darkened visor, he’s gone. He shouts your name and knots his fists around your hair as he spirals of that edge. You nearly gag from the force of his release hitting the back of your throat—cock throbbing and jerking in your mouth like he’s been denying himself release for months. His moans, fragile and gasping, filling the quiet space as his hips grind his cock deeper down your throat, his hands threaded into your hair acting as an anchor—the sole tether he has to the waking world. 

Din’s grip relents as the last few catastrophic waves tear through his body. He doesn’t move his hands, just lets them rest over your skull  as his chest heaves for precious air, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. You pull his still twitching cock halfway out, dragging the tip of your tongue below the frenulum while one of your hands circles the base of his length. Maker—he’s still going—

Last little dribbles of his cum spurt onto your tongue and drip over your knuckles still securely wrapped around him. His legs and lower abdomen flex when your hand falls lower to carefully knead at his balls, milking out his pleasure for all its worth. You let his softening cock slip from your mouth when he swears and mumbles your name.      

When you rest your back against the wall, he slips himself back into his trousers and joins you. You take a risk and rest your head over the chilly beskar pauldron. You’d never call this love—the word is much too harsh for this delicate string of seconds. Love means giving pieces of yourself to others like martyrs give their hearts to the sky—or risk fragile skin against the rays of an unforgiving sun. Broken ribs and clenched fists, immensity beyond comprehension—

“You should come with us,” he says with a hesitant mumble. Love is formidable—but you know that somehow, here, pressed against Din’s side, that this is right. In a golden way, a honeyed way, a path that tastes of blood, freedom and blaster smoke that will leave your lungs stained with blackened soot. Cowardice has long made a home inside of your soul, and he’s offering you a chance to shake off the layer of frost clinging to your bones and step into the gentle merciful dawn.  

“Yeah—alright, Din. I will.”

tags (only tagging some moots for now bc i have no clue what’s going on in this fandom anymore dbdndn): @goldafterglow @jango-fettish @djxrxn @blsmjoon @spookoofins @krissology @steeeeeeeviebb @teaofpeach @comphersjost @gummiishark @delusionsxfgrandeur @pettyprocrastination @huliabitch

[vechkinfan]

Jack

A/n: I found this little one shot while I was looking through the deep dark depths of my google docs the other day and figured I might as well share it. Its a young Joker fic, and my fist time writing for the joker so please take it easy on me!😁

Pairing: Joker x OFC

Summary: A brief glimpse into the Jokers past, memories that he would rather keep buried, memories that reminded him of someone that held his heart. A heart that now burned for Gotham's reckoning.

Warnings: Talks of abuse, swearing, angst, vague talk of death

Jack found himself climbing the dirty, half rotten stairs of his apartment building. The light bulbs on every other floor, blown out or stolen, casting a darkness over him as he made his way up. 

His mother had one of her 'friends' as she liked to call them, over. So he made himself scarce for the afternoon, like he always managed to. Jack weaseled his way out of the apartment when those creeps were over. Especially the ones who would come right in and give him those looks. Those perverted sideways eyes when his mother was too plastered to notice any different. Looks that sent a piercing shiver across his whole body, and an uneasiness to settle in his gut.  He much preferred the men who would come over and pretended like he didn't exist. 

The sun had long since started to sink in the sky  as he climbed the stairs towards home and Jack knew he had to make it before the streetlights in the narrows started to flicker. The evil in his apartment was one thing, but the evils that lurched about once all the sunlight was extinguished in the sky was much more frightening. 

Rounding the last flight of stairs, his eyes landed on a girl  sitting at the top of them. Her back pressed against the door jam of the closest apartment door.  One foot stretched out in front of her blocking his path and the other bent, shaking vigorously on the next step down. 

She was sucking on a red popsicle, as her fingers drummed against the skin of her knee that poked free from a hole in her ratty jeans. 

Jack knew she just moved in a few months back, but he never crossed paths with her before now. However every time he opened the door to let in one of his mothers 'friends', she would be sitting at the top of those stairs. Usually a pack of playing cards in her hands, flicking them one by one, aimlessly down to the next landing. 

"What flavor is that?" Jack asked, curious at what her voice would sound like. He'd been intrigued by her presence the moment he saw her all those weeks ago. 

Pulling the half melted popsicle from her mouth, the girl turned her head slightly to gaze towards him. Her dark brown hair in a curly mess that covered half of her face, but not enough for Jack to miss the darkness of her left eye. It almost appeared black, the deep brown of her iris engulfing her pupil, giving her a truly ominous appearance. 

"Cherry." She answered, her voice nothing what he expected. It held a delicate raspiness, nowhere near the point where it matched Ms. Emerson two floors up who had been smoking 3 packs a day since the depression. There was a softness to it though, one that made Jack want to hear more from her.  "You live in the apartment cross from me don't you?" 

Nodding his head, Jack shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Sure do." 

She sat in silence after that, and he stood a few stairs below quietly staring at her. His feet shuffling against the creaky old floor board, wondering if this would be the end of their talk. Perhaps it'd be the last time they spoke at all. Jack knew the Narrows had people shuffling around from place to place, like one of them scam shell games. She very well could be gone by morning. 

 "I can bring you one next time…. If you want?" Swinging her leg around, she sat so she was facing him. Both feet planted one step down as she licked the red sugary liquid that was starting to drip down the wooden popsicle stick and onto the top of her hand. 

"I got two left in the freezer." Her voice was soft and held a nervousness that made fighting off a sly grin for Jack very difficult.  

"Yeah, I'd like that." Hustling up the stairs, Jack found himself sitting down beside her. 

His eyes getting a better glance at the girl, in the low light of the stairwell. Now he could tell she was using her hair to hide the right side of her face. Her right eye was an awful shade of purple, and the lid swollen so badly Jack knew she must be having a hard time seeing. 

As he let his eyes pan across her face, he noticed her lip that was stained with cherry popsicle was also busted open. The girl next to him seemed to have come from a similar home as himself. It was near luck that Jack hadn't gotten his ass handed to him by one of his mother friends in a while. Talking back was a habit that he couldn't quit no matter how much he was beaten for it. Not to mention the fit of laughter that usually escaped his thin lips as a belt or a fist swung in his direction didn't help either. 

"You got a name?" He asked, finally dragging his eyes back to meet her dark gaze. 

"Billy." 

Furrowing his brow and giving his head a subtle tilt, he wondered if she was fucking with him.

"That's a boy's name." He puffed out a small laugh. However the girl beside him didn't react at all. 

"I know, you don't gotta remind me." She shrugged her shoulders, before finishing off the popsicle and throwing the wood stick down the stairs. 

"It's  your nickname right?" Jack couldn't quite stop himself with the questions. Usually he kept to himself and avoided people, but she…  there was just something  different about her. Something that drew Jack in like a moth to a flame. 

He knew his interest was purely the result of her moving directly across the hall and appearing to be close to his age, if she had moved three flights up and was a little frilly girl, Jack was sure he wouldn't have even batted an eyelash in her direction as he carried on home. 

Shaking her head and rolling her eye, she was the one to laugh now. "No, my momma lost her first baby, who was a boy when he was real little. She ain't been right in the head since." Jack watched as she picked at the frayed edge of the side pocket of her faded army green vest while she spoke. "So when she found out she was having me, she just knew I was a boy. The doctors told her different, but she didn't really care what they thought. So she named me Billy." 

Shoving her hands into her vest pockets now, she quickly pulled out her deck of cards and began to shuffle them absentmindedly. 

"Billy's not a bad name, I mean there was Billy the kid that robbed banks in the old west right? Like some badass cowboy outlaw… Maybe one day I could live up to that name." Jack's eyes watched as she expertly flipped the cards against themselves, the loud noise filling the hallway. 

"Hate to break it to you, Billy the kid never robbed banks. He's just known for murdering people."

Peering up at him from the corner of her eye, her posture deflated, "Oh…." Billy sighed. 

They sat there in silence after that, Jack feeling some form of regret telling her about Billy the kid. The girl had seemed thrilled in her blissful unawareness, so happy with only a shared name that connected the two. Which was utterly ridiculous, and in any other circumstance Jack would have enjoyed watching the girls dreams come crashing down from the clouds. However it was like a small light had been snuffed inside of her and Jack hated that he caused that. Which blew his mind, cause why would he care about some girl he just met and her no good thoughts. She'd be gone in a few weeks, out of his life for good! The narrows would swallow her up just like it did the other kids, and he really shouldn't have cared. But he did on some level, and it fucking bothered him. 

"Billy where the fuck you at, you little piece of shit?" An angry voice screamed from just beyond the door she had been leaning against. The abruptness caused the girl to flinch and drop the stack of cards she was holding. 

They fell like dominos down the stairs, fluttering off in all sorts of directions. Making a fucking mess. 

Jack watched as she threw herself off the steps and down the stairs chasing after all the playing cards. "Fuck I'm gonna be in so much trouble." She muttered to herself as she frantically began the daunting task. 

Without much thought, Jack did something that surprised himself again. He stood up and grabbed a few of the cards that had fallen towards the top of the stairs. Bunching them together in his hand, before looking down at the Ace of hearts that was face up. The corner dog-eared like a well read book, from constant use probably. 

"I said where the fuck you at girl." A man ripped the door open to her apartment, and stumbled out. The stench of bad tequila filling the air almost immediately.

"I-im I'm sorry I…" Billy stuttered out as she crawled on the ground grabbing the last of the cards.  Her hands trembled bad enough that Jack could tell from where he stood that she was terrified. 

Eyeing the man cautiously, Jack saw him take a step closer to the edge of the stairs. His arm raised slightly, fingers twitching, ready to strike her hard when she finally made her way back to him. 

"Sorry, I tripped into Billy while I was coming down the steps. Made her drop her cards." Jack lied with a laugh, and held up the few in his hands. "I was just helping her pick them up." 

The drunken slob of a man, took a steadying breath, probably knowing he couldn't pummel a kid that wasn't his own. The man's overtly round face, covered in a patchy beard and a badly trimmed mustache that had the remnants of cheese puffs littered throughout it, gave Jack a nasty look. His lip turned up in pure disgust. 

"Yeah well watch where you fucking walk next time." He flicked his hand at Jack, and then turned his attention to Billy. Who was now standing up straight at the bottom of the landing, cards in hand. "You, " He pointed at her with a chubby accusatory finger, "pick up your goddamn mess and get in the house, and don't make me fucking tell you again." 

Jack watched as the man turned ungracefully on his heel and stumbled back from the pit in which he came. Slamming the door behind him with such power, some of the cracked plaster on the ceiling fell to the floor.

"You didn't have to lie." 

"I know." He heard her take a few hesitant steps up, until she was standing side by side with himself. "I ain't in the mood to watch an ass kicking at the moment." He couldn't stop the tiny laugh that escaped him at his own humorless joke. 

Tilting his head towards Billy, he finally held out the few cards that he managed to collect. She greedily took them back into her possession, and Jack watched as the girl seemed to be counting them to herself. Her fingers flipping past each number making sure they were all accounted for. 

"Thank you." Her voice was softer than anything Jack had ever heard as she finished what she was doing and tucked the cards back into her vest pocket. 

"He hit you a lot?" Jack asked aloud, as the girl pushed past him and towards her apartment door. 

Shrugging her shoulders, Billy nodded her head. "Not as much as my real dad did, so I'm lucky enough. I know some kids got it worse than me, so I'm not complaining."

"Lucky?" He quirked a brow at her choice of words. Luck was nowhere to be seen in the Narrows, especially not in that girls apartment. 

Perhaps the girl had been struck in the head so many times it actually made her dense. It wouldn't be a surprise to him if that was the case, because no one, and he meant no one, would ever call themselves lucky with the life she seemingly led. 

"You got to believe in something, right?" She smirked. "Luck seems more plausible than some god or a superhero saving me. Plus I got this." Reaching back into her pocket the girl drew out a single card, and quickly flicked it over to him.

Jack caught it and huffed an amused laugh. His eyes falling upon the joker card that belonged to her deck. The jester was skillfully juggling three knives while he balanced with one foot on a large green and purple circus ball. The character itself was off putting, his face painted white, his lips smudged with red paint  that made his maniacal grin even more pronounced. His jester hat constructed out of oddly colored rattlesnakes, multiple wrapped around one another to give its iconic shape. Their rattling tails hung as the bells at the tips. It was clearly far from the typical playing card one could get at the Bodega down the block. 

"It's my lucky card, bad things don't happen as often when I have it on me." 

Jack couldn't help but continue to stare at it. The wheels in his mind spun endlessly with hundreds of questions, but he knew he'd never have time to get them answered. She was on borrowed time as it was, and he didn't want to hold her up further. Cause if he did, the girl probably wouldn't be able to see at all next time he ran into her. The guy inside, smashing her other eye to the point it was swelled shut as well. 

Looking up into her eyes, Jack attempted to hand it back. But Billy just shook her head at him. 

"You keep it, it's the least I can do after you saved my ass. Maybe it will bring you some luck." She smiled at him before turning and opening her apartment door making her exit. 

"If you give me this, won't your luck be gone?" His words stopped her in her tracks. But all Jack could focus on was her soft laughter.

Without turning to face him, she pulled another card free from her pocket, twisting it expertly between two fingers so the face of it was in Jack's direction. An inverted match to the very card that he held in his hands. "There's always two jokers." 

Just as quick as she pulled it free, Billy shoved it back into her pocket, "See you around." She chuckled before disappearing into her apartment. Leaving Jack alone in the stairwell, staring quizzically at the place the girl once was. His lip twitching up in amusement, before he shook his head clear of their encounter. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The joker cracked an eye open as he startled awake. It was a rare occurrence in recent years that his dreams would startle him out of sleep. That was only reserved for a specific time in his life, and that was not now anymore. 

His half sleep blurred vision instantly focused on the ever growing water stain that was spreading across the ceiling tiles. It's dark brownish edges tainting the once white paint, giving the already run down room a greater sense of abandonment. 

His hand stretched out wantingly, his long fingers gripping into the cool sheets of the spot next to him. The spot that had been vacant for many years now. An emptiness that slowly consumed him in absolute sorrow, and then engulfed him in a burning rage, no one could ever put out. 

It was a pain that radiated through the Joker like a poison when his mind traveled to her. Pleading for him to remember, remember a time when things were pleasant. When she was by his side, and in his bed, places he could keep her safe. 

But he couldn't, the day Gotham took her from him was the day its reckoning started. They would all pay, every last one of them.

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Sneaking Around | Chapter Seven

The next week was torture for Aelin. Unable to get her hands on Rowan, she had to settle for passing glances in the hallways and lingering touches in the elevator. Lunchtimes she ignored him as she usually did. It was only at the end of the workday on Friday that Rowan entered her office.

“Did you need something, Mr. Whitethorn?” asked Aelin coolly.

He grinned. “I needed to know if you’re busy.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Come to my place when you’re finished.” Then he walked - no, strutted - out the door.

Aelin could hardly complete her work quickly enough. After she did, she texted Ansel. im not coming home tonight

why am i not surprised? Ansel answered quickly.

shut up Aelin then gathered her belongings and headed to her car.

She pulled up at the now-familiar building and walked up the stairs to Rowan’s door. It was unlocked. Rowan was sitting at the table eating a plate of spaghetti.

“Couldn’t wait for me?” Aelin pouted.

He grinned. “I was hungry.”

Rolling her eyes, Aelin served herself a plate and sat. She liked the familiarity she felt when she was here, when she sat down with Rowan.

She’d barely taken a bite when a phone rang. Rowan’s.

“It’s Fenrys,” he said when he looked at it. “Hello?”

A voice sounded on the other side, to which Rowan responded, “Why?” And then, “That’s really weird, man.” And finally, “Maybe some other time. I’m finishing up on paperwork right now.” He looked close to laughter.

Aelin’s brow was raised. “What was that about?”

A smirk. “I was invited over to figure out who your secret boyfriend is.”

Aelin blinked. “You’re joking, right?” When he didn’t say anything, Aelin shouted, “I’m going to kill them! I’m going to fucking kill them all!” Rowan chuckled. “Do you seriously find this amusing?” she yelled.

“Calm down. And don’t kill them, they’ll want to know how you found out.”

“Call him back.”

Rowan frowned. “Why?”

“Tell them you finished your paperwork and you want to join.”

“Again, why?”

“I want to know who they think I’m screwing. You’re my man on the inside.”

Rowan just looked at her. “Um, no.”

“Why not?”

“That’s ridiculous.” When she just glowered at him, he added, “Also, I’m eating.”

“Good thing you’re almost done then.”

“I’m not going to go join their ludicracy when I could be doing other things. Preferably things involving you naked.” When Aelin crossed her arms and frowned at him, Rowan sighed. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

He reluctantly picked up his phone. “Turns out I had less paperwork than I thought and I have nothing better to do. Yeah. Okay, see you in a few minutes.”

Rowan scowled at Aelin. “You owe me. And what exactly are you going to be doing while I’m gone?”

She smiled. “Do you have Netflix?”

-

Halfway through Dirty Dancing, Aelin’s phone rung. It was Lysandra. Was she involved too? Most certainly; in fact, she had probably started this whole let’s-stalk-Aelin idea.

“What?” Aelin made her voice as breathy as possible.

“Sorry to bother you. I was just wondering what you’re up to.” Checking her alibi. Thorough. She had to give them credit for that.

“I’m very busy. What do you want?” Aelin snapped in her most impatient, I-need-to-get-back-to-sex voice.

“Oh, nothing. I’ll let you get back to it.” There was a laugh in the background and someone shushed them. How inconspicuous.

“Whatever.” Aelin hung up. Then she pressed play on the TV, a smirk on her face.

-

An hour later, Rowan came back. He found Aelin, asleep on his couch, with a bowl of popcorn next to her.

He moved the popcorn, switched off the TV, and sat next to her. Aelin woke up to Rowan stroking her hair. Not a bad way to start the day. Then she realized it was late evening. Aelin yawned, stretching onto his lap.

“Don’t you want to hear the juicy details?” asked Rowan.

This woke her up. “What did they say about me?”

He laughed. “Oh gods, Lysandra should work in the FBI. There were lists and-”

“Lists?”

“Of every employee of the office. It was narrowed down to male employees, then only those at the party.”

Aelin scowled. “When I get my hands on her... Who else was there?”

“Aedion, Gavriel, and Elide weren’t notified for fear of ratting us out. Ansel was working. Vaughan had to be at the office for the new security update. Lorcan and Manon both declined with similar statements about how bat-shit crazy we are. It was just Connall, Fenrys, Lys, and me. We were all told not to tell you, but I didn’t promise anything.”

“And I’m assuming it was Lysandra’s idea?” Aelin was furious at this point.

“Yes. It was kind of fun, though.”

“I know you did not just say that.”

Rowan chuckled. “Oh, please, you would have initiated the thing if it was anyone else.”

“It wasn’t, though, and I need revenge.”

“I can only pray I’m not there when that happens. And she crossed us men off the list since we were all there while you got your alibi checked.”

Aelin laughed. “Yes, I was brilliant, wasn’t I?”

“Mmhm, you sounded like you were called in the middle of screwing somebody.”

Aelin beamed. “That’s what I was going for. Now that you’re here, though, I’ve been waiting all week for you to fuck me.” she blatantly declared.

Rowan’s breath hitched. Aelin sat up, then moved on top of him, straddling him. His hands settled on her hips.

“Thank you for being my man on the inside,” Aelin whispered, then dragged her tongue up his neck. Rowan groaned.

“Maybe I should do you favors more often,” Rowan got out as she pulled her own shirt off. His hands drifted up to massage Aelin’s breasts through her lace bra.

Aelin spent the rest of the night thoroughly thanking Rowan. Oh, how she loved the weekends.

-

Aelin slept in the next morning. She awoke to find herself alone in Rowan’s bed.

Not bothering to put on clothes, not even another one of Rowan’s shirts, Aelin walked into the kitchen. Rowan was making pancakes.

He turned, taking in Aelin’s naked appearance. Rowan’s eyes darkened with lust. Totally ignoring his roving gaze, Aelin walked to the counter and leaned against it. “I didn’t know you could cook,” she said.

Unable to tear his eyes away from her body, Rowan kept staring as he answered, “I’d hardly call making pancakes cooking.”

“It’s more than I can do,” Aelin replied. Smirking, she added, “Careful, they seem to be burning.”

Rowan finally turned back to the food, stacking them on a plate. The muscles of his back were tense. Quite possibly he was restraining himself from spinning back around and touching her. Aelin loved the effect she had on him.

Finally he managed, “Tell me you’re not going to eat like that.”

Aelin said, “Why shouldn’t I?” She was enjoying this, especially when he turned back around to reveal a slight bulge in his pants.

“Fuck, Aelin, you can’t... I’m not going to make it through breakfast with you looking like that.”

Laughing evily, Aelin complied, running back to get a shirt out of his dresser. She then walked back to the table, which had two plates on it.

Every time she was here, Aelin felt happy and carefree. Before she knew what she was doing, Aelin blurted, “I like you.”

Rowan looked at her, raising an eyebrow. Aelin blushed furiously. “I mean, I didn’t quite intend to say that, but I do. Like you, I mean. Just saying.” Wow. Very smooth.

Rowan was grinning now. “I like you too.” Aelin had expected some mocking comment, but despite the teasing look, his voice was sincere. Her blush deepened.

Rowan had the nerve not to seem embarrassed. Bastard. He said, “What are your plans for Christmas? Still attending the Single Losers Christmas party?”

Ah yes, Christmas. They were at the beginning of December, nearing a holiday from work. And the Single Losers party was a tradition started long ago, when Fenrys had no one to celebrate with and demanded Aedion, Gavriel, and Lorcan throw a party in his honor. They had the nicest place; everything happened there. It had now evolved into a small get-together with the friends and their dates (so most of them weren’t even single, but whatever). It had been quite a few Christmases since Aelin had had a boyfriend serious enough to spend the holiday with, so she was a regular. About half of them went to their parents’ houses for the holidays, but the others didn’t.

“Yes, I am. You?” Rowan usually went to the party as well.

“I’m going.” He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but hesitated.

“What?” Aelin asked.

Rowan quickly said, “Nothing. More syrup?” She knew she wasn’t getting anything out of the damned bastard. Yet, at least.

The rest of the morning passed, and of course ended up in his bedroom. Aelin didn’t know how, but the sex just kept getting better and better. She left in the afternoon, having plans at her own apartment with Ansel and Lysandra.

Aelin left Rowan with a searing kiss, her insides burning. She would never get used to the heat she felt around him, nor did she ever want to. Aelin lived for it, craved it like she craved his tongue in her mouth.

Eventually she detached herself and drove home. Lysandra was already there - early to see Aelin come home at three in the afternoon. After the possible boyfriend lists that she wasn’t supposed to know about, it was hard enough not to strangle her friend. Lysandra was on thin ice.

“Have a nice night?” she purred. Ansel laughed.

Glaring, Aelin said, “Very. How was your night?” Yes, what were you doing, Lys? Not stalking your friend, I hope.

“I got together with the twins and Rowan.” Technically true. Bitch.

Aelin made sure to inquire about Lysandra and Aedion’s flirtations or Ansel and Fenrys’ budding romance every time they got too nosy and that seemed to do the trick. The conversation mostly revolved around Elide and Lorcan, a new movie on Hulu, and a new Kung Fu move Ansel had learned.

Lysandra left a while later. Aelin set her phone on the counter along with her purse and keys.

She went to the bathroom. Washing her hands, Aelin heard her phone beep. Ansel called, “I’ll check it for you!” Nosy. Probably hoping it was from her lover. Wait a minute; if it was from Rowan...

Aelin dried her hands quickly and bolted out of the bathroom. To find Ansel gaping at Aelin’s phone. Shit.

[monochromemedic]

Flashback pt 3

Through the booming music that was beginning to die down, the lights that were beginning to settle, and the loud whistles of a few people from the crowd, two men sat in silence at the back of the karaoke bar. Fallon was deep red in the face, hand brushing through his hair as he slouched  over on the table. Silas wasn’t much better. He wasn’t blushing or pale but he was staring off in the distance, arms crossed as he tried to process everything. In the silence of the karaoke bar as another person readied the stage and Dom walked off, back to his table to down a drink, the two men stared at their future friend. He was so different. The Dom they knew seemed restrained, work oriented, hell they never heard him sing before but here Dom was, looking like some heart throb decked out in revealing clothing and piercings. “Maybe we’re in a messed up timeline? Like we’ll leave and we’ll find out that this timeline is the one where there’s was a punk revolution or... uh aliens. And Dom’s just an alien in disguis-” Fallon trailed off as Silas stared at him causing him to cut himself off “Well can you blame me this is... weeiird.” “It is it’s just... no it is.” Silas muttered, rubbing his arm observing the table that Dom was now at. He was smiling, laughing even, as he talked to the other man at his table as they ordered another round of drinks. “He looks happy. I don’t think i’ve ever seen him smile like that.”  “Man don’t say that...that’s sad...” Fallon muttered under his breath before standing up and beginning to walk towards the table Dom was at, only getting a few steps before Silas stopped him. “What are you doing man?” “Im gonna go home man. I’m gonna grab that picture and disappear back to my own time, with the grumpy Dom I know, with my shitty bed, and shitty pop culture.” “And just... yoink it from them like a weirdo?” “...Yeah. I mean I’ll touch it and be magically transported back where everything is ok and swell and none of this matters so... I mean does it matter really?” Fallon chuckled, giving a light shrug of his shoulders “But what if it isn’t like that and because we interact with him it messes everything up. Like that thing the... the... uh... damn I can’t think of the term.” “Butterfly Effect? I’d rather deal with that then having to tip toe my way around him and end up fucking myself over and living in the past for the rest of my life Silas. Time Travel is fucky, maybe it’ll correct itself... I mean we gotta hope.” Fallon turned back around to stare at the table, giving a little sigh “I’ll play it like the movies ok? I’ll pretend i’m meeting him for the first time, and we’ll get to know him. We get close, we grab the picture, we zoop back to shitty 2020 ok?” Silas’ fingers tightened around Fallon’s jacket before he too got up, an obvious look of worry and fear visible on his face. “Ok...” The two approached Dom, who turned his head up at the approaching group, a questioning look on his face. “Can I help you?”  Fallon almost laughed, the sound of Dom’s voice, although a bit younger and less rough was still the same. Deep, and harsh to him. Just how he liked it. “Hey, I liked your song. It was... interesting. You got a nice voice.”  “Oh. Uh... thank you.”  “Yeah it’s real nice, I like the style too, real stick it to the man. I noticed you got a few piercings, and well, I was interested in a few myself. How much does it hurt?”  Silas stared in amazement at how smooth Fallon was being, and in just as in much shock at how Dom chuckled back, relaxing towards the strangers. At least one of them wouldn’t be a bumbling idiot... “Hurts like a bitch in the moment but, it’s nothing. Unless you’re talking about the tongue piercing?” Dom stuck out his tongue, the bobble of the piercing shimmering with spit in the dancing lights. “That one, that’s nasty haha. Mind if I sit down with my friend? I’m real interested in alternative stuff and you look like a man that would know a thing or two about having a good time with that sort of shit. Plus if I can convince Silas to get drunk enough, I might get him to get a nipple piercing and I need all the info I can to get him to not pussy out.” Fallon said, already talking a seat at the table. “Wa...wait what?” Silas interjected, suddenly aware of the conversation Dom looked away for a moment before giving a nod of approval for Silas to also take a seat, staring at the tow of them carefully. “Yeah, I think that’d be alright. You two seem...” He paused, trying to think of the right word. “Alright enough.” Dom’s friend looked weary though, and gave a look to Dom, to which he quickly gave a wave back, almost telling his friend to leave. Dom’s friend nodded and began to pack up, but not before handing the still fresh polaroid to Dom, which he looked at fondly before pocketing. “Sorry, my friend has to go to work in the morning. He just wanted to come and support me for singing on stage the first time. It’s not you guys I promise.” “First time on stage? Really? You could have fooled me, you acted like a real rockstar up there.” Fallon complimented, eyes focused intently on where the photo was. He thanked god for the sunglasses, or else a stranger glaring at a man’s pants would have been awkward. “Yeah I uh... I practice... um so about the piercing? I’m... Dom by the way.”  “Fallon, and this is my friend Silas.”  Dom looked over at Silas, eyeing him up and down slowly. Silas could feel a bead of sweat begin to form on his brow as he gave a nervous smile back. “Alright, so what do you want to know?” Fallon did most of the talking, making up bullshit about how for the longest time he was considering some sort of piercing but wasn’t exactly sure where, and how Silas was always a coward when it came this sort of shit, and how Fallon was desperately trying to trick him to get a piercing as a joke. Dom responded in a few short responses only starting to warm up as the conversation continued on.  Silas was at least glad that he didn’t seem completely changed, not a complete party animal. It probably helped loosen him up with how much everyone was drinking. At first Dom had just ordered another glass of coke and rum, but soon those glasses were piling up with the money Fallon was putting on the table. He knew what he was up too, and although Silas took a few glasses himself, he  had to stay at least a bit sober. And Dom was definitely not that.  His tongue rolled and hanged on letters for much to long, the way his eyes beginning to lull close as he laughed far too loud. Fallon was long gone too, laughing just as loud along side him, before hiccuping it and doing it all over again. “Uh... hey... Dom it’s getting late, don’t you think you should be getting home? You got a ride or something?” Silas asked, interrupting the giggle fest the two were having. “Ah... shit yeah, I don’t got a ride I just walk home. I don’t live that far from here.” Dom slurred, his tongue piercing clacking against his teeth. “You need some help getting home I mean... you are kinda sloshed.” “No, no it’s ok, it’s fine...” He groaned as he began to get up, stumbling to his feet and heading for the door. Dom waved the bartender a goodbye, but not before falling against the doorway. “Jesus Christ Dom, you aren’t walking home alone, you can barely stand up.”  Silas raced out of his seat, grabbing Dom’s shoulders and steadying the shorter man. “You’re gonna get hit by a car or something.” Silas didn’t have to look back to know that the clattering of chairs and stumbling footsteps was Fallon following behind him, almost running into his friend’s back. “Yeah you look like shit man... let’s get youuuu home haha.” “Well I mean... you guys were so nice I... I guess so. I guess it wouldn’t hurt!” Dom grinned wide and waltzed out to the sidewalk, Silas by his side steadying him. It only took a couple of blocks before they came across a rather shitty looking apartment complex. Dom seemed to B-line up the stairs to a certain door, almost like he had done it a million times before. “Welll this is home. You guys were... great I’m... you’re great.” “It was nothing. I mean you helped us alot, it’s only fair we got you home safe. I just hope we can get home.” Silas told him, eyes darting down to the ground in thought. Dom nodded, poking Silas in the chest as he closed his eyes, his face scrunching hard. “You get back safe ok? You get back... mm safe.” Silas would have felt touched by that sentiment if it wasn’t for the fact that immediantly after Dom passed out against him, causing him to desperately grab the falling body before he hit the ground. Luckily he did so, but not before Fallon gave a loud gasp of ‘Woahhhh’ in his drunken haze. “Oh my god we killed him! Oh fuck we killed past Dom, we fucked itt... awww....”  The dyed hair man sniffled, his face contorted in over-exaggerated sadness as he grabbed the keys that fell from Dom’s hands, starting to try the door as snot began to run down his face. “Gotta hide the body in the house... he died in the house, all drunk and sad.... put him in a bed aw fuck man...” “He’s not... he’s not dead you just kept handing him booze until he passed out! I’m surprised you’re still standing to be honest, let’s just get him inside and grab the picture and bail ok?”  “OH shit the picture, I forgot about that.” Fallon laughed, all signs of remorse fading from his face. When they opened the door they found that it was actually pretty clean for the state of the apartment overall. A few clothes on the ground here and there but otherwise everything was stacked neatly and cleanly, far from the look Dom was presenting to the world. Silas had to basically drag Dom to his bed room, tucking him into bed with a kind look of sadness,hand going to move a few strands of hair from his face. “Take it easy Dom, we’ll see you on the other side.” “OH god we’re dying now?” “No Fal, god... why the fuck did you drink so much?”  Silas began to dig in Dom’s pockets, pulling out the polaroid and staring at it with a small smile. “Fal?” Fallon moved beside Silas, reaching for the photo and grabbing it. “I wanna go home man, i’m done here...” With that another race of energy overcame the two. A flash of light, the feeling of weightlessness, and then they were back. Flat on the carpet of Dom’s room where they started. As soon as Silas regained feeling back in his body, he threw the picture back in the draw, resisting the urge to burn the thing that sent them back in time to make sure it never happened again. It took a second for Fallon to get back to his feet, still drunk from the drinking spree he had back in time. He grabbed at Silas, clawing at his shirt as he pulled himself upwards. “We did it! We’re home! I... I wanna sleep.” “Yeah I know-” “What are you two doing?” Both of them turned to face Dom, eyebrows furrowed together as he stepped into the room. His face was older, prominent bags under his eyes, his hair slicked back and the scar that was around his left eye still pink and puffy. “We did it... Oh you’re SOOOO old!” Fallon blabbered, racing over to Dom and hugging him close, rubbing his still snotty face against Dom’s well kept shirt. Dom gasped, pushing Fallon off of him and groaning in frustration. “Are you drunk? How the hell did you get drunk- you got... get out.” “Aw I loved getting yelled at!” Fallon chuckled, before stumbling out the room and onto Dom’s couch to lie down. Silas followed not far behind, but not before stopping by Dom as he passed. “I know it sounds weird but it’s nice to see you again. You have a nice voice.” Dom paused, opening his mouth to speak only to close it, his face turning red as he grabbed and played with the watch on his wrist, twisting and turning it as he thought back to his younger days.

[voidendron]

The Outside: Chapter 55

Series Ask Blog: @asktheoutside

Chapter 55: News Chapter Warnings: Swearing POV: Chase Brody

March 23, 2031, 5:30 PM Los Angeles, California

“Look,” Chase said, “you two just need to… I don’t know, man. Just—stay away from each other? We’re all sick of your arguin’, and one of you’s gonna get hurt.” He didn’t turn to face the android as he scrubbed at a pan they needed for dinner.

The Septic could hear annoyed beeping from behind him as the only response.

Adjusting to two others now living in what had already been a crowded household was certainly a challenge. Sleeping arrangements had been enough of a hassle to figure out. They’d had to raise their budget on groceries, too. Nine people instead of seven? That was a lot of mouths to feed. Then there was the schedule for the bathroom in the morning, which was a whole different story entirely. They weren’t sure Anti could ever safely find a job due to his glitching, and Jameson likely wouldn’t unless he either perfected sign language or went to speech therapy—which he’d refused with an annoyed glare. It had taken some adjusting, to say the least.

The water in the sink sloshed when Chase dropped the pan; spilling lukewarm water and yellowed suds over the counter and floor. The Septic cursed when it landed on his bare feet to immediately soak his socks. At least that brought a snort from Bing that he very poorly covered up.

“Gross…” the father muttered as he leaned down to pull his socks off. He tossed them aside, grimacing when one almost slid under the fridge.

“Dude,” Bing’s boots squeaked over the now-wet tile as he went to retrieve the sopping socks, “the washer’s literally right here.” He was laughing as he dropped them into the top portion of the stacked machine that was way too close to the fridge for Chase’s liking. They couldn’t put anything on top of the fridge because of it! If the washer got off-center (which it did a lot when the kids tried doing laundry) it would knock against the other appliance and make anything on the fridge just. Fall off.

Chase just shook his head and tossed a grin over his shoulder.

“You’re hopeless, y’know that?”

“Yep!” He emphasized the “p” by slapping the water, only to splutter and reel back when it and suds flew up at his face.

“The Twins make less of a mess than you.”

“Yeah right.”

“They do!”

Chase made a distressed sound when his hat was pulled off from behind. He was sure it was Bing! That is, until he heard the android’s confused laughter. The Septic twisted around as best he could while keeping his hands over the sink.

Sophie grinned triumphantly up at him while the oversized snapback nearly fell over her eyes. Hadn’t she just been upstairs? He grinned at his youngest regardless.

Shaking his hands over the sink, Chase reached for the towel hanging on the oven handle to dry them. “Need somethin’, Sophe?”

She nodded so fast the hat about fell off. “Ky got a text. Jackie’s been trying to call you, and it’s important I guess?”

Chase’s brows furrowed at that. “You know what it’s about?”

“No. Seán just said it’s important and you gotta call Jackie like. ASAP.”

He hadn’t needed to say anything for Bing to take over finishing dishes, while Sophie had scampered right back up the stairs with the snapback still on. Chase had to wonder what they were doing up there. They were all quiet aside from the occasional laughter.

Running a hand through his hat-head, he pushed his bedroom door open. He had to squeeze between the two twin-beds now within to reach the nightstand where his phone was hopefully done charging, grumbling when he tripped over Anti’s shoes and the Velcro momentarily stuck to his sweatpants. It really was crowded.

Chase grimaced when he pulled his phone off the charger and saw a whole lot of missed calls from Jackie and all within the last few hours. Wasn’t it after midnight in Brighton? He carefully picked his way out from between the beds and seated himself at the foot of his own.

Finding Jackie’s contact, it barely rang once before the hero answered. “Chase?” The way his voice cracked made Chase’s breath catch in his throat. Had Jackie been crying? Was he still crying? “It—it’s Marv—oh god, Chase—”

“Hey, hey, easy!” He swallowed. Jackie’s voice was raw and raspy, and Chase could hear him choke on a sob on the other end of the line. “Jackie, easy. Y’said Marv. Everything okay?”

“N-no. He’s…he’s not—not doin’ well.” A shaky breath. “Please find a way here? Please? We don’t…we don’t know if—if he’s gonna make it.”

The phone nearly fell from Chase’s hand. He…he hadn’t heard that right, had he? He swallowed, choking on his own spit. There was no way he’d heard Jackie right. Absolutely no way. “J-Jackie…what do you mean?”

“I mean he might die!” Jackie tried so hard to yell, to drive it into Chase’s head, but his voice broke at the end as he sobbed into the speaker. “Y’don’t…h-he…”

“What…what the hell happened, man? You c…you can’t be fucking serious?” Chase had to blink away his own fearful tears. Marvin? Dying? He couldn’t…how could that… “What happened?”

Muffled sounds came from the other end, and the voice to speak up wasn’t Jackie’s, “This is Bim.” He sounded tired, but not as though he’d been crying like Jackie. “Marvin had an accident with his magic.” Bim’s voice was soft, sad, but far too even. How could he be so calm? “He was trying to track Schneeple,” Chase’s heart clenched at that, “and something happened. We don’t know what, just that it involved fire and he’s badly burned. We just know he’s not doing well. I…” Bim paused; Chase could hear him sigh softly. “I’m surprised he even made it to the hospital. He’s in surgery now, but we don’t know if he’ll survive to morning.”

“But…” His breath shuddered as he scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand. “He can’t be…”

“I’m going to contact Wilford. Seán and Jackie want you and Jameson here. They want Anti, too, but…we can’t risk him glitching something at the hospital. I’m sorry, Chase.”

The call ended, and Chase found himself shaking as a sob wracked his body. That…it couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be true. It was just…some bad dream. He was imagining it, he had to be! He’d just…he’d fallen asleep on the couch, surely! He’d sat down for a moment, only to take an unplanned nap. He’d wake up and call Marvin in a panic, only for the magician to be fine, if annoyed at being woken up at three in the morning.

He didn’t know how long he sat there before Bing came rushing into his room. Had Bim told him?

The android didn’t say anything as he sat down and looped an arm around Chase’s neck. He leaned into Bing’s chest, uncaring that his tears left a spot on the Iplier’s shirt. Bing didn’t say anything for a long time. He didn’t need to. Instead, his core rumbled softly; a deep hum within his chest that Chase shut his eyes to. It was always such a calming sound. Chase tried to focus on that as he evened his breathing.

“What if—what if he—”

“Don’t.” Bing combed his fingers through Chase’s hair. The father couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “He’s survived as long as he has ‘cause he’s not human. Just keep believing he’s gonna make it.” He ruffled Chase’s hair and stood. “I’m gonna go talk to James and Anti. Why don’t you pack a few days’ worth of clothes? Wilford’ll be here when he gets off work.”

The silence to hang in the living room was suffocating after the news had been delivered to the others. Sophie had curled into her dad’s side with tears staining her cheeks while Chase wrung his cap in his hands. The Brody kids would be staying with Bing, Yan, and the Twins, and Chase wasn’t sure he liked that notion. He’d never been away from them for long, but he also didn’t want them seeing whatever shape Marvin was in.

“How long are you gonna be gone?” Kyler asked. His eyes were red, but he’d stopped crying before going downstairs to join the others.

“I dunno, buddy.” Chase leaned back into the couch and ran a hand through Sophie’s hair. “Maybe a week? Few days? And I’ll call every night, and keep you updated on…o-on Marvin,” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, “okay?” Both kids could only nod.

It wasn’t long before Wilford appeared in a cloud of glitter in the kitchen. Chase wanted to be shocked by the brown mustache, and frustrated at the glitter Bing and the Twins would end up trying to clean up, but he couldn’t find it in himself to so much as glare at the Iplier. He just wanted to get to Brighton.

“James, c’mon.”

The younger Septic stood, and the two of them shouldered their bags. Poor Jameson didn’t even have it in him to speak, and his aura kept pulsing around him to leave him looking like an old film. Chase placed a hand on the back of the younger’s neck, and the look Jameson gave him about broke his heart.

Wilford’s aura made Chase’s stomach churn as the two stepped close to the Iplier. He already felt sick, like he’d throw up from all the crying. He didn’t need the too-sweet smell of the bright aura assaulting him to make it worse. He squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the nauseating weightlessness of teleporting, reaching to hold Jameson’s arm to ground both of them when their feet hit solid ground.

They were in Seán’s dining room when Chase opened his eyes again. Both dropped their bags and ran for the living room, practically tripping over one another. Their creator was on his phone outside what used to be his recording room, Bim pushing past them to speak with Wilford. The King was nowhere to be seen, but Jackie lunged to his feet as soon as he saw them. The hero was shaking when they pulled him into an embrace.

“Seán’s talkin’ to someone from the hospital,” Jackie murmured. His voice was so muffled against them that Chase barely heard him. The hero had one hand closed into such a tight fist that his knuckles were white, and Chase grabbed that hand; squeezed it like Jackie had done for him so many times before. “We ha-aven’t heard anythin’ s-since they took ‘im away. What if he…what if he didn’t—”

Chase tucked the hero’s head under his chin. “Just…just keep hoping. C’mon.”

With Jackie there, it was odd to know Chase was the one taking the lead into bringing the other two to the couch. From there, there really wasn’t much they could do but sit and wait. Chase felt helpless. More helpless than he had for a long time.

Marvin was in surgery. What if he didn’t make it? If he did, what sort of recovery process would there be? It couldn’t be easy, whatever it was. Not when the damage was as extensive as it had to be to make them fear for his life.

Keep hoping. That was…all they could do. Chase swallowed and leaned his head against Jackie’s; twitched his fingers when Jameson’s aura touched them and turned them gray. The father could Feel the fear, the sorrow, the anxiety, permeating the room; even from Bim when the former host returned to take a seat when Wilford left. The Iplier seemed so calm, but Chase could Feel his worry for the magician. He even Felt guilt around him. Was it from Jackie, or their creator? Perhaps both.

Keep hoping. Think about the process of recovery for Marvin; not his funeral. Be right here for Jackie, Chase thought. Be right here, to hold him for whatever news came.

Chase glanced up at a change. Relief, mixed in with all those other emotions, as Seán tucked his phone away and entered the living room. He sat heavily next to Bim; hair disheveled and bags under his eyes, but the relief was from him. Chase could see it in his creator’s eyes.

“Marv’s stable. In bad shape, but h-he’s gonna make it! We can see ‘im in a few hours, when the hospital’s open for visitin’ hours.” Seán smiled, tired and strained, but smiled nonetheless. “He’ll be there a while, but he’s alive.”

[chanyeolisbeautiful]

Reunited Part 6

Previous         Next 

Taehyung and Jin headed up the stairs of the main house and toward Namjoons office.

“Do you want me to tell him?” Taehyung asked, looking at his friend.

“Thanks man, I appreciate that.” Jin said, sighing. He ran his fingers through his hair. “He needs to hear it from me though.”

Taehyung nodded as they approached the door, knocking twice.

“Come in.” A voice answered. They opened the door, Taehyung was surprised to see Hoseok behind the desk rather than Namjoon.  

“There you are, Jin, where have you been?” Hoseok asked, looking up from the computer. “Namjoon was trying to get a hold of you.”

“Yeah, I’m looking for him too.” Jin answered, “Where is he?”

“He just left a couple hours ago.” Hoseok answered, “He went to go check out that new arms dealer he was looking into.”

“No,” Jin said frowning reaching into his pocket to check his phone, Namjoon would have said something if he were leaving. “That meeting is next week.” Jin cursed when he realized his phone was still off. After turning it on 4 messages came through.

Namjoon 4:05 PM

The time of that guns meeting got changed, flying out tonight, Hoseok’s in charge while I’m gone. call me

Namjoon 4:33 PM

Where R U? Want to go over some stuff before I leave. U still on surveillance? Thought U were done at 2?

Namjoon 5:13 PM

Where R U?

Namjoon 6:07 PM

Boarding plane now, I left that paperwork on my desk, let me know what you think. Text me im starting to worry.

“What?” Hoseok asked, noticing Taehyung and Jin’s exchange a worried glance.

“We’ve got a bit of a situation…” Taehyung started rubbing the bridge of his nose. Just perfect. What awful timing for Namjoon to be on a plane across the country.  Hoseok’s usual smile faded from his face as he crossed his arms regarding the men before him.

“We found Y/n, Namjoon’s sister, the Nox have her, and a hit has been taken out on Namjoon and I.” Jin told Hoseok quickly, pacing back and forth in front of the desk.

“What?!” Hoseok asked shocked, “His sister died years ago Jin, you were there. And who ordered the hit?”

“That’s what we thought too, but Jin saw her.” Taehyung explained, leaning forward in his chair, “As for the hit, we think it came from the Raiders.”

“The Raiders?” Hoseok repeated stunned, “That makes no sense; we don’t even deal with them. And that’s impossible, she’s dead.”  

“Did Namjoon go alone?” Jin asked, suddenly uneasy.

“No, Jimin, Yoongi and the new guy went with him. He should be okay, there is no way the Raiders could have known about the meeting, let alone the change of time.”  Hoseok answered. He was right, Namjoon wasn’t in danger. Only Y/n…

“We have to move fast, we don’t have time to wait until Namjoon is back. Y/n is being married off to Chul-soo of the Raiders. We don’t want any more people involved in this than necessary.” Jin told Hoseok.

“Jin, we can’t make a move like that without Namjoon’s say so.” Hoseok said startled.

“Bullshit!” Jin yelled whirling to face Hoseok. “You know damn well that as soon as he hears he will want every effort put into getting her away from the Nox and as far away from Chul-soo as possible. There is no time to wait. We need to move now! “ Jin slammed his fist on the desk.

Taehyung stood up surprised, Jin was never this easily riled up.

“He’s right, Hoseok.” Taehyung said calmly, “We don’t have time to wait for Namjoon, this has to be your call.”

“Fine.” Hoseok snapped, “Tell me everything you know.”

*****

In your dream you were running down the hall of your childhood home, trying to get away from the flames sobbing. As you ran towards the stairs you realized they were engulfed in flames, you were trapped on the second floor of the house. You could feel the heat everywhere, coughing, you turned, running into your bedroom and slamming the door behind you. There was no way out you realized, panicked. The smoke was so thick it was hard to see, you coughed and coughed until your lungs felt raw inside your chest. You tried to make it to the window but everything was moving in slow motion, you were so lightheaded and dizzy, the smoke was burning your eyes, burning everything.

You woke up gasping for air and covered in sweat, bolting upright.

“Just a nightmare.” You told yourself, rubbing your eyes and trying to catch your breath. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. You were trapped in this house and were going to be married off to some nasty old man, you remembered grimly. Nothing was fine. You let out a frustrated sigh as you swung your legs off the bed. You would never get back to sleep now, so you headed down to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee feeling oddly numb.

You passed a few men dressed in dark clothes, judging by their exhausted expressions you decided it must be early in the morning about time for shift change. Glancing at the clock you discovered you were right, it was 4 am, when the men guarding the property switched off. Some of the men nodded to you as you passed, others ignored you. You counted that you had slept about 3 hours.

As you sipped your coffee you wondered where Jungkook was, whether he was still up or if he was in bed by now. You hoped he was sleeping, knowing the last few days had been long with little sleep for him as well. Your mind started to wander as you became more alert, thanks to the caffeine, trying to decide what your next move would be. You needed to leave, and soon, you knew that much. You didn’t know when your uncle planned on having you marry Chul-soo, but you didn’t want to stick around to find out. You would need money if you were going to be on your own… but since you were always trapped here you had none. You were sure that your parents had left you some, but your uncle must have been keeping it from you. You knew Shewan had stashes throughout the top floor of the house, the only floor that was off limits to everyone unless they were personally invited by Shewan. It would be incredibly risky to sneak up there and try and steal from your uncle… but you really didn’t have another option. You didn’t like the idea of taking money that wasn’t your, but you pushed that thought away.

You sighed, glancing at the clock again. If you were going to do it, now would be the time. Your uncle slept like the dead and would be fast asleep at this time. You gulped down the last few sips of your coffee and quietly climbed up the 4 sets of stairs, hesitating before carrying on to the 5th floor. Looking around you, you saw no one else was up here, all either already fast asleep or working. You took a deep breath and hurried up the stairs, heading first towards the study, the stash farthest away from your uncles bedroom.

Once inside you moved around the desk to the bookshelf on the other side, moving quickly you reached for the large book you knew was hollow. Opening it you were relieved when you saw 50 and 100 dollar bills stacked neatly. Your uncle hadn’t changed his hiding spots, and you’d memorized them all when you had first been moved in here, mostly out of boredom. You grabbed a few bills before hurrying to the next locations. You were growing more paranoid by the moment, not wanting to be caught you took a few bills from all the hiding spots and hurried back down stairs, breathing  a sigh of relief when you were back on the 4th floor.

“What are you doing up here?”

You almost screamed as you spun around to face the voice, coming face to face with Jackson, who was eyeing you suspiciously.

“I um,” You stuttered, “had to use the bathroom.”  Jackson raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms.

“And why didn’t you use one of the three bathrooms on the same floor as your room?” He questioned, his eyes darting towards the stairs to your uncles floor. Oh god, you thought trying to remain calm, he must have seen you.

“They were all occupied.” You answered, crossing your arms and trying to match his intimidating posture. He noticed this and his eyebrows moved even father up his forehead, disappearing under his hair.

“Sure.” He sighed, his eyes softening a bit, you could tell he didn’t believe you but it seemed like he was going to let it go. “How’s the face?”

“Oh, not too bad…” You trailed off, surprised that he was asking. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it.” He said, his eyes scanning the hall and both sets of stairs. “Want me to walk you back down to your room?”

“No, no, that’s okay.” You answered; the money in your pockets feeling like it weighed about a hundred pounds. “Thanks though, good night.” You said over your shoulder, already halfway to the stairs, you looked back to see him shaking his head and walking towards his room.

Once back in your room you counted the money, you had gotten $3,250. That should be enough to buy food and a hotel, possibly a train ticket. You still had no idea where you were planning to go, just knowing that you needed to go.

***

“You know something!” Jungkook accused his father who was standing a foot in front of him, just outside one of the back entrances of the house. “Why Chul-soo? Why is he doing this at all?”

“Let it go, son.” Lee sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s done.”

“It doesn’t make any sense, Shewan doesn’t need the money, the alliance with the Raiders won’t benefit him, he doesn’t need to do this.”

“He’s got his reasons.” Lee said sharply, narrowing his eyes at his son, “And his not your place to question them. It’s above your pay grade, leave it alone.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jungkook spat. “I’m your son, doesn’t that mean anything to you anymore?”

“You’re a grown man now, Jeon Jungkook, start fucking acting like it.” Lee growled, “My advice to you is say your goodbyes, it’s happening soon, whether you like it or not. You might still see her every now and again, who knows. But she’s not your problem anymore, now you’ll get to go out full time like the other guys, that’ll come with a raise. You should be happy.”

Jungkook shook his head in disbelief. “He’ll kill her, you know it’ll happen eventually, you’ve known her since she was sixteen years old, how can you just be okay with this?!”

“It’s done.” Lee said turning to leave.

“Why won’t you fucking talk to me?” Jungkook yelled, grabbing his father by the shoulder and spinning him around to face him. Lee brought his fist up before Jungkook saw it coming - a result of him being so upset- and punched him square in the face, knocking him onto his back. Lee pressed his knee into Jungkook’s chest leaning in until his face was inches from his sons.

“I said leave it alone, boy.” Lee spat. Jungkook shoved him hard so that he fell sideways off of him, they both stood up quickly.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore.” Jungkook told his father, wiping the blood from his nose onto his sleeve; he turned and walked quickly away into the yard. He needed some air, needed to calm down before he decided what to do next. He was acting irrationally, Jungkook knew that. He needed to pull himself together or else he was going to make a stupid mistake. In his line of work stupid mistakes could easily get you killed, and after the conversation with his father, he knew it wasn’t just himself he was going to need to make decisions for.

You needed to leave, that was the only way Jungkook could see you getting out of this, he thought to himself as he walked the perimeter of the property.

*************

Thanks for reading, hope you guys are enjoying :)

[phoena12]

Cuphead: “I’m not always a good person, but I do regret what I’ve done to good people. You’re kind enough to forgive me and I thank you for that. But I don’t deserve it.”

im sorry this took me so long to get to ^^” 

The ground is cold and damp beneath Dice’s tired body, theeffort to move and curl up into a ball for warmth is too much a trial and so helays there placidly, awaiting the embrace of death. He’s pretty sure that’simpossible for him but hey, a guy can hope. As he slips in and out ofconsciousness, wicked flames filling his vision one second and then to thelarge expanse of stars littering the sky another, he wonders if it’d be worseto end up in one of hell’s many circles. He knew all of the circles by heart ofcourse, having to dump many souls down there after, ahem, paying their debts. None of them went willingly of course, which iswhy it was such a relief when two idiot children entered his fine establishmentand meddled with the big boss.

Dice manages a painedsmirk, his lips splitting and small drops of blood forming along the seams. Itwas funny, almost hilarious even, when those two boy’s had come with theunmistaken naivety and innocence that youth brought through the smoke filledlobby. All eyes were oblivious to their entrance, coughing and splutteringthrough the initial intake of smoke as they were, save him and his assholeco-worker who had rushed to his side to tell him of them. No wonder there wasso much damn smoke in the casino. He’d set the boy’s up for a game and let themwin the first few times. It was only after the tenth game, when he’d startedthrowing out baits and using extra cards that despite his excelled proficiency,he was still losing. He’d silently admit to himself, he was impressed.

Then the Devil had stepped in and all else had gone seeminglyuphill from there. Dice’s life was made easier. Just keep an eye on the brats.Make sure they got the contracts and gave them to him. If they died? Make suretheir souls went straight to hell. It was easywork. The duo had steadily made their way through debtors and collected all thecontracts with a few cuts and bruises for the ride. By the time the two hadcrossed over onto the third isle though? Well that was when things started tounnerve him. Just how strong were these kids? That question was soon answeredwith the ensuing battle going in the boy’s favour and his beloved casinocrumbling and setting alight. They had fooled everyone.

Dice opens a bruised eye, his vision swaying and coloursshifting into each other, as he hears the soft tread of feet. His breathe, slowand ragged, puffs into the chill air as he surmises this is the end for him. Hewouldn’t put it past someone to end him right here and now, for all the sins he’scommitted these years and all the people he’s cheated. The Devil better have agoddamn suite waiting for him down there, or at least a chair. Lying face downin the dirt was rather uncomfortable.

Alas, he isn’t met with the sudden flash of pain that aknife would bring or the numbing crack to his skull. Instead, a quick gaspescapes the person’s mouth, followed by a light touch to his shoulder. He’s notsure what hurts more, the soft spoken “Dice? King Dice are you still there?” orthe gentle shake of his shoulders because both actions are too sweet a sentimentfor the likes of him. The strangers tone is familiar and filled to the brimwith worry and caution. The insistent shake of his shoulders that beckons himto stay awake and stay here and not to give up. He doesn’t move. He can’tactually move anyways but plays dead so that this kind person will just snuffat his dead body and move on.

They don’t, obviously, because the world just loves to playtricks on him. His mind is swirling a little now, the once far away starsunnervingly close to him and the ground seeming to shrink away. He doesn’t hearthe stranger call for someone, until another pair of feet come stampeding hisway. The ground shaking, or so it seems, as the called person in questionshouts with confusion “king dice!”. Oh boy, he definitely recognises that toneand suddenly it’s all too clear who is trying to help him and who is chargingtheir way to his battered self.

He curses inwardly, swearing hatred to any and all gods thathe can manage to think of. He grits his teeth slightly as the shyer of the twoboys greets his brother and voices his concern. He wants the ground to swallowhim up. Right now preferably. He shifts his body, gauging his strength andholds back a strangled groan. It catches the boy’s attention and soon enough Cuphead’svoice is in his ears.

“Are you dead?” directly to the point as always and hewishes he was dead. His doesn’t answer Cuphead’s question and when the silencestretches on too long for the boy’s patience, the young cup kicks him in theside. It’s not a very strong kick, more of a poke really and something thatshouldn’t have had Dice scream out in pain, bloodshot eyes wide and tremblinghands covering his abdomen. Fucking kid! The boys are bickering between eachother, worry, regret and anger warring in their voices as Dice’s vision blursand his breathe goes shallow. His body is numb and cold and he lets go. Worriedshouts going over him in waves, small hands shaking him but failing to rousehim. He lets the waiting fires envelop him and with a last thought to thisworld, hopes there is a goddam chair waiting for him.

~~0~~

He’s lost in a dream, one that fills his mind and makes nosense to his tired self, the colour green being prominent all around him, abackdrop of orange and red slowly fading into the distance. The sky is filledwith coins, spinning and twinkling, he tries to reach his hand out and grab onebut finds he can’t move at all. He gives up and stares at the sky for a while.Dice thinks it’s very pretty and wants to keep staring endlessly at it. Thereare voices too, though he can’t make any sense of them, one moment they are byhis ears the next their somewhere else in his dream. The voices mix and minglewith each other, squeaky, stubborn and gruff and then nothing.

Dice smells smoke tooand finds an imp, adorned in a chef’s garb, cooking at the casino’s stoves.It’s a funny picture but makes him worry, Devil never said anything about hisminions being able to cook. As soon as the Devil crosses his mind the improtates its head 360 degrees and Dice is met with two red slits for eyes,flames burning up around the little beast until its body has melted and allthat is left is those eyes. Beckoning. Dice flees that part and finds himselfsurrounded by flower smells and, is that cinnamon? His mind brings up the scentof an old cologne that he used to wear, one his father let him borrow.

Why is his fatherhere? He opens his mouth but finds its sown shut. He begins to panic, rockinghis body sluggishly left and right. Long black tentacles wrapping themselvesabout his body, forcing him immobile yet again and then his body wracks withpain. Sharp and hot, it doesn’t seem to end, tears flowing down his cheeks andthe string keeping his mouth closed becomes taut. He expects to wake up, tryingto move or wriggle or something, wanting to wake up. Then his eyes are there,or at least one of them, gleaming blood and malice at him. He knows that eye,tries to beg for mercy or make another deal but he only manages strangled moansthat stick in the back of his throat. It looms forward, a red line cuttingacross the centre and opening to reveal many, many pointed teeth. Saliva and blood drips from the coated maw andslowly envelops Dice’s head. He twists and turns but the Devil closes himselfon Dice, his fangs scissoring through Dice’s skin and skull, before coming tohis neck and snapping it clean offhis body. A guttural growl dripping rich crimson that turns into a throaty andgarbled laugh…

~~0~~

Dice awakes with a gasp, eyes wide and hands scouring hisface. Was he just eaten by an eyeball? What was all that other stuff?? Hebreathes in greedy gulps of air, expecting the creature to come back at anymoment. Once his heart rate is calmed, he looks about his surroundings. Itappeared he was in a room, solid wooden walls and a window that streamed infaint rays of light his initial surveillance. He was also in a bed; a softcomforter placed on the mattress, fluffed pillows and a slightly worn duvet ontop.

Despite the smell ofmedicine that coated the quilt and the, pattern(could he call it that? it looked more like a few half assed crocheted lines tohim) that adorned the centre of the duvet, it was better than a chair. Which hestill fully expected of course because this was still a dream. He thinks? Henotices a Chester drawer with some rather ancient looking antiques sitting atopit. Beside him is a bedside table; a series of medicine bottles (no wonder itstank like a hospital in here), rolls of bandages scattered about, an empty cupand a lone wooden chair with a green cushion on it.

Hah! See? He knew at least a chair would be waiting for himin hell, it didn’t explain any of the other things in the room but Dice ispretty smug about getting that much right. He eyes the medicine bottles andgoes to reach for one. He then notices the bandages strapped about his arm likea snake, small blotches of red showing through. Some of the events from theprevious night come streaking back to him. Calm, collected and preparing for afight he knew he would win. Losing that fight. Being turned on. His casinofalling like an uneven stack of cards. So much fire that spurted from theground and engulfing everything. He gets a headache just remembering it. Dicedoesn’t think he’s in hell, there’s no fire, no brimstone and no cackling imps.

No Devil.

So where the hell was he?

He doesn’t have to think long on it before he hears thesubtle creak of wooden flooring as someone makes their way up the stairs. He shiftsin the bed, straightening his back and awaits whatever horrors would greet him.

It’s much worse than he expected.

A grumbling and wheezing tone first puzzles its way intoDices mind, his guard lowering a bit, he cocks his head a little at the noise. Itcertainly didn’t sound like either of the two cup brothers. He was dealing withan old man? Perhaps his “saviour” was on the weaker side, which worked well inhis favour. He may be injured and indebted to this person but that didn’t meanDice had any notions of staying here. Just more water under the bridge. Except itwasn’t just any old man. As the huffing figure comes bumbling through the door,a tray with steaming tea on it, Dice knows there’s no way out of this one.

“Ah, you’re awake!” Elder Kettle greets, the tray In handshaking with his enthusiasm, he shuffles over to Dice, ignoring the pointedstare and lowered brows.

“I’d rather be dead” Dice grumbles, rubbing his temple.

“Well, had the boys not found you when they did, you surelywould be” Kettles catches the quip and throws it back at Dice, stern gaze andsturdy frown following suit. Kettle places the tray on the bed side table,knocking bottles and bandages over and drags the wooden chair backwards a bit,sits in it heavily and straightening, steam puffing out of his nose. “So…” hebegins, gnarled fingers clasped together and gazing heavily on Dice, “…justwhat did you think you were doing?”

It’s an odd question, given how little and how much theelder claims to know and from Dices past experiences with the man, he decides it’sbetter not to tangle with him at this moment. The barb still hits though.  Did Kettle know the control that the Devilstill held over Dice? Did he see the claw marks that stretched unevenly at hisskin? “How much does he know?” burns in his mind.

Dice scoffs, “what ah thought best” and leaves theconversation at that, looking askance out the window. Or he tries to but Kettlehas none of it and with a tone Dice didn’t believe possible of the antique.

“You thought it best to lie face down in the dirt and letthe world win? You thought it best to allow the Devil into your mind and fillyou with his nightmares?” a pause and a sceptical glance from Dice “I know,son, I know. He beat you and moulded you into his plaything. He made you intowhat you are, an extravagant and foolish child” Elder Kettle levels his gaze toDice, who looks about ready to explode.

Kettle continues his onslaught “you hurt people Dice, goodpeople, bad people but people all the same” Dice wants to sink into the groundand never come out, he hates how soft and commanding his tone is. Reassuring himto speak his mind but not overstep his boundaries. “You tortured souls andcheated people” Dice already knows this. Kettle knows this so why bring it up? Rubsalt into the wound why doesn’t he. Dice inwardly scoffs and decides this is apretty fucked up hell, even by the Devils standards. Kettle leans forward andplaces a rough hand on Dices softer one and looks earnestly at the broken man. “You’vecheated death and survived in a world full of deceit and hate and yet I don’t seethat spark in you anymore.”

“Get to the point” Dice snarls and snatches his hand back. Alittle freaked out by the man’s soft words and reassuring gestures, Dicesurmises this is all a trick.

Kettle sighs heavily and wrings his hands together, like a parenttiring of telling their child the same thing over and over. “You’re free nowKingsley, it’s time you forgive yourself, just like me and the boys have”. It catchesDice off for sure, makes his heart shrivel up inside himself further.

“I’m not a good person, I regret the things that I’ve doneto good people” Dice begins his voice shaking a bit, “you’re kind enough toforgive me and I thank you for that” a forced grin and a broken smile graceshis features as he looks levelly at Kettle, “but I don’t deserve it” his voicebreaks at the end and he fights back the tears he knows begs to break free.

“Ah, Dice…” Kettle shakes his head.

And that seems to end the conversation, Dice sits rigidly onthe bed expecting another line of truths to come hurtling from Kettle but theold man fumbles with the now luke warm tea, adding a sachet of powder to it andoffering it to Dice. Dice accepts the medicine and splutters at the bittertaste. Kettle rises from his chair and walks over to the window, gazing out athis boys in the garden. They had been quite forward in getting Dice someflowers to make him feel better. Such sweet boys.

“…maybe one day…” he hears Dice mumble between sips of tea. Kettlegrins and settles his eyes back outside the window. One day indeed.

~~0~~

“WE GOT YOU FLOWERS!!!”

Dice is abruptly awoken by two bustling bodies bursting intohis room and shoving an array of different coloured flowers in his face. He swearsand tries to back away from the flowery onslaught but the kids are relentless.

“Mine are the best Dice! Look look! They got real prettycolours!” Cuphead shouts over the noise of literally nothing else and shoveshis vibrant gifts at Dice. He eyes the bunch, and he assumes they would bebrightly coloured had Cuphead not grabbed the flowers by the head, the brokenstems and lack of petals a stern indicator.

“Hey mine are pretty too! These’ll make Dice better!” Mugmansqueaks, a small pout on his face at being second to show his bunch of flowersto Dice. At least he doesn’t shove them into Dice’s face, the array of whiteand pink a soothing sight, almost. Being awaken by two screaming children isnot ideal for his health. His head now swimming and vision blurring.

“So which bunch d’’ya like best?” the boys ask in unison. Godthat’s creepy.

Dice doesn’t really get a chance to say, not that he wouldpick anyways, before he faints and sinks back into a fireless sleep.

…

“Elder Kettle!! Cuphead broke Mr Dice!!!” the younger boytattles and takes off out the room.

“With affection this time!” Cuphead shouts indignantlyfollowing his brother and leaving Dice to his slumber.

[myficsknowwhatyoudidinthedark]

Maxx Danziger x Reader “Maxx Tries Something New”

Ok! Here we go. You can already tell by the title what this is based off of. At least I hope you do. If not, Go on youtube and type the name of this fic in to the search bar. Enjoy! (Feel free to change any of the names in my fics. I use them so I don’t have to constantly type Y/N)

(Lara’s POV)

     Maxx was currently setting up the camera for Set It Off’s newest youtube video. The fans never really got to properly see or hear from me so we figured we would throw me in this video. He finally sat on the edge of the bed and pats beside him. I scoot up and he begins to record.

     “What’s u-” Maxx began as he was cut off by me sneezing.

     “Oh. Bless you love” He says as he turn back to the camera as I laugh at his reaction.

     “What’s up you guys, So here’s the situation. I was a very, very picky eater growing up. And by that I mean I had like, Pizza, Hotdogs and that was it. I haven’t had like 99% of the food on planet earth. And by haven’t tried most food I mean like, I haven’t had strawberries, I haven’t had a kiwi, I’ve never had a pear before. Almost any vegetable on Earth.” Maxx says as he talks about how little food he eats.

     “On the plus side, He is extremely easy to buy food for. You want in to the store and then walk out of the store. That’s what food shopping for Maxx is like.” I say as I laugh and he turns and laughs and nods along. He knew that statement was extremely true.

     “True, True. So as i’m speaking to you right now, the rest of the guys are at a grocery store getting a ton of food, weird food probably, for me to try for the very first time. We figure it’s a new year, it’s 2017, year of new experiences, and because of that, i’m gonna try some food.” He says and then turns off the camera then turn to me.

     “Why am I letting them do this?” He asks. I just shrug and laugh at him. He then just leaned back on the bed and turned the television back on. He slowly made his lazy ass up to the pillows and laid back.I just laid next to him and he pulled me close so I was cuddled in to his side. Throughout the course of the wait my phone would occasionally go off with Cody texting me about how crazy they look with just one of everything they got and how Zach dumped most of the stand of pistachio's in the basket even though they aren’t buying them.

     I then texted Cody to pick up some cookies for Maxx, after he eats the food they got him and he obviously thought it was a good idea knowing Maxx’s love for chocolate chip cookies. The last text I got before they left the store was that they bought something that was so foreign that they couldn’t find the code for it. Maxx and I where still cuddling and Pistol had made her way on to the bed at some point as well. That’s when I hear the front door open. Maxx was too lost in the show to even hear it so I just stayed. I then hear profuse chopping and yelling which is quite obviously Cody cutting things. Oh boy, here we go.

     So eventually the guys make there way upstairs and tell us that they got the food. As we get up to go Zach proceeds to mention how he wishes he cause Maxx jerking off and they walked in on him. To which I reply.

     “ZACH! GET YOUR OWN MAN!” And everyone just busts out laughing. When we get to the kitchen they ask Maxx what he thinks they got. “Ok. So I assume you guys got some sort of fruit. Some sort of vegetable. Something fucking disgusting and yeah I think all the others are going to be fucking disgusting.” He says as Cody replies with, “Your honestly not far off at all.” and Maxx just smiles and goes “good,great” as they all laugh.

     “Ladies and Gentleman! Welcome to Maxx tries something new.” Cody says as I sit next to Maxx and he goes, “here we fucking go.” And we all just laugh.

      They all huddle and point to a plate and bring him a kiwi. “Ooooohhh, Your going to like this one babe.” I say and he just looks and goes, “So do I eat this slice or....” to which I must point to the slice of kiwi. He eats the kiwi and he just goes “Hmm, That’s pretty good. That’s not bad at all” He says and puts up the ok hand motion.

     They once again huddle around the counter and then bring another plate with a green pepper on it. Maxx’s immediate thought to it being “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” and we all can’t help but laugh. “I honestly can’t tell if that’s a vegetable or meat” and then picks it up and goes “it’s a pepper for sure.” and then continues to examine it.

     “BABE! Jesus Christ it’s a food not a fucking painting just eat it!” I yell and then he just stares at me with a fake shocked face and a smile and then bites into it. And according to Maxx the pepper “Tastes like water”. I just put my hand over my face as the guys laugh at him. “What is this?” He asks. Cody had to once again establish that “It’s a green bell pepper.” With Maxx immediately following with “It’s ehh”. I couldn’t help it. I just grab his head and press it againt my chest and he just lays there as I pet his head and laugh silently at him. “You heard it the verdict is ehh” Zach says as they all join in on the ehh part.

     Once again they huddle and all I could hear was “ I don’t even know what the fuck it is” from Zach. I lean over to Maxx and say “I don’t think your going to like this one babe.” I say as he turn and smiles at me. “Thanks for the warning baby girl” He replies as he kisses my cheek and the guys put it on the table. They all do a quick awww and then Dan puts a weird ass fruit and yells ‘OW’ repeatedly. 

     “That shit looks more like a weapon than i food” I say as I pick up my arm and make it look like i’m throwing something. Zach laughs along with the guys and goes “Your going to have to eat it with a spoon.” Once again, Maxx’s first reaction to it, is to compare it to a plumbus from Rick and Morty. And then says “I have no fucking idea what this is” As he waves his hands around with the fruit.

     “If you had to name this, what would you name it?” Cody asks. “Spiky no no plant” Is all Maxx says before Cody tells us that it is called a ‘Horned Melon’.

     Maxx digs right in causing it to make a nasty sound and all the guys to yell and laugh about the noise it made. After he tries it he claims that it’s like eating tadpoles and picks up the fruit and squeezes it making it seem like it’s talking and says “Im going to give this one a zero.” and everyone to laugh along. (Im so sorry im rambling. It is 6:15am and I am watching the video as we go. Im going to skip ahead a bit.)

     Within the next maybe 15 minutes of laughing and funny comments, Maxx had tried, Tuna or as he calls it “Cat food”, A pear, Which he liked but nicknamed it “the boogieman” from nightmare before christmas or an apple that just woke up one say and said “Whatever”, and Sour Kraut or “Onions that gave up” which he almost died from.

     Then Cody starts talking about how they kinda put him through hell and they knew he wasn’t going to like everything so they got something to as they said “Soften the blow”. And Cody turns to me and nods. They has told me where they put them through a text message so I just nod and Maxx looks kind of confused but excited. and goes “Is it more sour kraut?!” and they all joke about how it was more sour kraut. I get up and go to the fridge and get the cookies from the top which I had to get on my tippy-toes to get. 

     “So your lovely girlfriend suggested that we get you...” He starts as I turn around and he yells “OOOOOOHHHH SHIIITTTTTT! I have had those before.” and then goes for some cookies. “Do I get to keep the lovely lady as well?” He asks as I sit down next to him again and he puts his arm around me then pulls me to his lap. The guys just laugh and nod informing that he can indeed keep his girlfriend. And he then screams “BEST PRIZE EVERRRRRR!!!!” and then stack 2 chocolate chip cookies to make a cookie sandwich. He takes a bite throws it on the table and yells “100! ALL DAY BABY!” and throws his hands in the air. Then they did the whole outro thing.

     After they finished they talked for a few minutes and then me and Maxx head to our room by a well timed yawn on my part. Maxx then grabs me by the waist and throws me over his shoulder and begins to walk up the stairs as everybody yells a goodnight. Maxx throws me on the bed and then pushes my legs so that he can lay down. I just take off my pants leaving my in just a shirt and Maxx takes off his shirt and pants, as the man always has on skinny jeans and then gets under the covers and pulls me close. “Man, You really where the best prize today” He says as he wraps his arm around my waist and puts his head in to the crook of my neck and breathes in. 

     “Ehhh, I think the cookies where better.” I reply as I wrap my arms around him. (They are facing each other. Its kinda like a hug) “Yeah right. The difference between you and cookies are that they will eventually go bad. But you, you will always be perfect” He says as he then flips on to his back leaving me to lay on top of him.

     “You are so corny” I say as he just smirks and goes “Sorry, but i’ve never eaten corn. How corny can I be.” (I don’t know if he’s never had corn or nah) I just laugh and lay my head on his check. Little did we know, the guys where behind our door recording what we where saying and where going to edit that into the video.

     God. How could anybody not Love Maxx Danziger.

(Hope you guys liked it. I know I rambled and I’m so so sorry but I got distracted and before I knew it this was so long. But anyway I should probably get sleeping it’s almost 7am and I haven’t slept yet. Much Love Guys)

                                                                                        ~Astral

[jamespottervevo]

who ya gonna call (when you’re drunk off your ass) pt. 1

im jumping on the social media/group chat AU. this should be about 5 chapters and includes character perspective switches when there’s an actual scene opposed to a purely chat format the entire time. The emojis are able to be seen best on a web browser opposed to on a phone, and even better on ao3 but I’ve tried to get them readable here.

the primary ship of this fic is Sirius x Gasolina by Daddy Yankee who are we really kidding here

2k | ao3 

Remus Lupin to Lily Evans

Remus: room 347 right?

Remus: because I am at 347 right now

Remus: and the sign on the door says “paranormal studies”

Remus: but it’s written in eyeliner. maybe crayon. wtf.

Remus: and it looks like no one’s here.

Remus: Lily what the fuck is this?

Lily: no, you’re at the right place. Don’t know what’s up with the sign though…

Remus: so this isn’t the room for paranormal studies

Lily: no, like, there was a real sign the other day, not sure what happened to it       

Remus: Okay. But that still doesn’t explain why you told me to meet you here. You said this was a club for people like us.

Remus: was more under the impression you meant queer, not crazy.

Lily: just go inside you utter goblin

Lily: be there soon xoxoxo

What the hell had Lily gotten them into? Remus Lupin grimaced as he glanced down at Lily’s last text, the time blinking 11:56 pm. He slid his phone into his back pocket, rocked on his heels, bit at his lip. It was almost midnight and he’d broken into the Cooper Science building for some godforsaken reason, dragged his ass down the stairs- the elevator perpetually out of commission- wandered around the basement labyrinth, only to find out room 347 was for Paranormal Studies.

What the fuck did that even mean?

Lily couldn’t be that far off, but did he really want to stand in the hallway waiting for her, very much risking a security guard catching him? Remus sighed before pushing his way into the room, the door hardly even latched. Great. This wasn’t even in a decent room then.

“Uh. Hello?” Remus called out, letting the door fall shut behind him as he stepped inside a...well, he wasn’t entirely sure what if he was being honest. It looked as if someone had attempted to convert a storage closet into a laboratory, but had gotten bored half of the way through.

Paint was chipping off the walls, a few dusty tables were pushed into the far corners of the rooms, the ones nearer the center covered in some type of equipment. A half dozen chairs were in a haphazard circle away from most of the chaos next to a sputtering coffee pot and package of Chips Ahoy with a brown hand stuck inside.

“Yes, hi, hello. Wow, didn’t think anyone else was going to show up to his-“ the body attached to the hand paused as he managed to shake the package back onto the rickety table, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one hand, thrusting the other toward Remus with a grin. “James, Potter. James Potter. Founder and member of campus’s first and only paranormal studies group.” He said it as if he’d said it a thousand times before, no less proud each time. Remus shook his hand as he looked around, brows furrowed.

“Right. I’m honestly not even sure why I’m here, my friend told me about this and-“ Remus paused and exhaled, hard. What the fuck was he doing? Why had he stepped into the shitty 80s Ghostbusters?

But James lit up. “Really? So someone else is coming tonight? I know having the meeting this late was a risk but it felt much more in the spirit of things, you know?” Remus nodded, despite very much not knowing.

James moved back toward one of the cluttered tables as a small machine began beeping. “Shit, Sirius is gonna kill me if I blow this up,” he muttered, pushing a hand through his hair, only furthering the mess.

He hesitated for a moment before lowering himself into one of the chairs. Where the fuck was Lily? While James continued to fiddle with whatever screaming device he was tinkering with, Remus slid his phone out of his back pocket, glancing down to check his messages. She hadn’t texted, which either meant she was nearly there or she’d died. Considering she’d led him to a crazy person meeting in the middle of the night, he didn’t feel nearly as much sympathy as he should. He’d get lilies for her funeral. She’d hate that.

“Hey, mate, you okay? You’re looking a bit,” James started, breaking Remus form his funeral planning, “white.” He paused and ruffled his hair. “I mean, everyone here looks pretty white, but like, worse?” He was still fiddling with the now-silent machine.

Remus frowned. “Low blood sugar,” he explained as he reached over blindly to grope for a couple of cookies from the crumpled package. If Lily were there, she’d have already scolded him for letting it drop so low. But she wasn’t. She’d sent him to possibly get murdered in the basement of Cooper after the buses had stopped running. He could be as irresponsible as he wanted, thank you.

James bobbed his head in understanding and made a vague sort of gesture, seeming to tell him to take as many cookies as he wanted. And he did, shoving one in his mouth, chewing slowly as James wandered back over, hands shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie.

“So, you’re interested in the paranormal?” He swung himself into one of the chairs, leaning forward, eyes bright behind his glasses. Remus almost choked. He pounded on his chest before clearing his throat.

“Uh, no. Not really, wouldn’t say that I am.” James arched a brow. “My friend didn’t tell me what this club…” Was it a club? “Well, she gave me fuck all information.” Remus ate another cookie in an attempt to avoid the kicked puppy look that had settled onto James’ face.

Before he could manage to put his foot in his mouth any further, the door swung open once more and Lily-the-traitor slipped inside, hair plastered too her forehead, looking properly soaked. Great. Now it was raining too.

“Rem! Sorry I’m late, got stuck in the rain and my umbrella fucking gave out on me and- hi?” She paused, mid wringing out of her hair, eyes finally landing on James, who seemed to have gone rigid in his seat, mouth half open. “I’m Lily,” she said, seeming rather unsure of what to do as James stumbled up from his seat, shoving his hand out toward her.

“James. I’m James. Do you need a towel? Coffee? Dry clothes? I’m sure we’ve got something around here, Sirius’s always leaving his shit around.” Well, at least Remus wasn’t the only one with the inability to keep his foot from his mouth. Lily laughed, a bit awkward, as she moved to sit in the open seat next to Remus.

“No, I’m fine. I think. Thanks,” she said with a wave of her hand. “So, is this it then?” She glanced around the room, the very uncrowded room, her lips drawing into a bit of a line.

James seemed unbothered as he managed to somewhat compose himself, flinging himself down into an empty chair after grabbing a small cup of coffee for himself. “Well, not quite. Pete’s got work early tomorrow and Sirius just told me he wasn’t going to come, but other than that…yeah.”

Lily nodded, Remus ate another cookie, not quite sure what to say to that. What had Lily gotten them into?

“So, what about you then. Do you believe in the paranormal?” James asked, this time the question directed at Lily. He looked as though he was trying very hard not to stare, which only made it that much more awkward.

But Lily grinned, tossing her damp hair over her shoulder as Remus rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Got a bit of a gift, really. Mum says it runs in the family, being able to talk to ghosts.” Remus snorted, managing to very poorly hide the fact with his hand.

Without looking, Lily slapped his knee. James, on the other hand, looked positively delighted. “Wait, like, without equipment and shit?” If he leaned in farther forward in his chair, he would be face first on the ground. Lily nodded and swiped a cookie from the small stack on Remus’ thigh, ignoring his sound of protest.

“I’m dying, you know, and you steal my fucking food?” He muttered under his breath, sinking down further in the chair, frowning. He was tired and still shaky and was around to absolute nutters. Exactly what he wanted on a Thursday night, really, truly it was.

He loved Lily, he did. She was his closest friend and really the reason he’d ended up at the university. But ghosts. Honestly. He’d heard about her “gift” within the first hour of meeting her back when they were eight. He’d laughed at her then, and he’d laugh at her now, but James seemed intrigued as she went on explaining about the woman in her first-floor bathroom back home.

Remus pulled out his phone, planning on playing a round of some trivia game when Lily smacked his knee again, looking at him expectantly. “Well, tell him then.”

“Tell him about what, exactly? My astounding wit? 3.7 GPA? Criminal record?” Lily rolled her eyes and looked back over at an enthralled James.

“Don’t mind him. He’s always an ass if he’s up past his bedtime.” Remus glowered. “When he was a kid, his blood sugar shot up crazy high while he was asleep and sent him into ketoacidosis. Shit started flying around in his room and it woke him and his parents up. When he gets real drunk, he’ll admit he heard someone talking to him,” she said. Remus huffed.

“Lily, I was halfway to being dead. One foot in a coma. Of course I heard voices, it doesn’t mean a ghost saved my life,” he muttered, ducking his head down. It’s why they’d become friends, really. As a kid, yeah, he’d been much more willing to believe in all that shit. Not that the kids on the playground were too kind about it. Except for Lily.

Only where he’d grown out of that type of shit, she’d grown into it more, though, in her defense, she’d gotten a bit more discrete about it.

James looked downright delighted. “Holy shit, this is incredible. The guys are going to be amped over this. Here, uh, can I get your numbers to add you to our group chat? We don’t really meet up like this often.”

“At midnight?” Remus asked, plainly. James nodded, grinning.

“Like I said, I thought it would be fitting. Spooky shit and all that,” he said, as if that made it make perfect sense.

“Right. Spooky shit,” Remus repeated as Lily took James’ outstretched phone from his hand.

“There, added both our numbers in,” she said, seeming pleased with herself as Remus groaned.

“Really, Lil? You know I don’t believe in this shit- no offense,” he added, directed toward a slightly offended looking James.

“Well, I do, so suck it up, Buttercup.” And with that, everything seemed final and James seemed positively glowing.

“Cool. Great. Yeah, we can keep you guys updated about everything in the chat, meeting times and shit like that. It’ll be great. This is going to be great.”

 -

Remus Lupin and Lily Evans were added to Zak Baggins Is Gonna Fist Fight a Ghost

Sirius: yo who the fuk

James: these are the two who showed up to the meeting!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Pete: wait people actually showed up

James: you have no faith in our organization wormy fucking none

Remus: I hate you @Lily

Lily: idk about you all but I’m ready to bust some ghosts

James: well, that’s not quite what we do but 

Lily: Bust. Some. Ghosts.

Sirius: I like her she can stay.

Pete: wait @James how did you get that emoji????????? is that a ghost parrot??? where are you finding these????

Remus: Can we go to sleep, it’s like 3 am and my phone won’t stop lighting up.

Sirius: git gud scrub

 -

Remus Lupin @notromulus: So I think I was just inducted into a cult????

Lily Evans @evansly: it’ll be fun!!!!! @notromulus

Remus Lupin @notromulus: not the reassurance I was looking for @evansly

Lily Evans @evansly: @notromulus ;) ;) ;)

[cumonbucky]

Realization

Request: Ive had this idea but idk how to write it so Im giving it to you. Its where y/n is in love with Bucky but he is dating and in love with someone else. However the girl broke his heart and finally realizes a year after his heartbreak that he loves y/n.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: angst (?), fluff (I like ending things on a happy note I’m sorry)

A/N: this will probably hurt my soul. Also, if there’s any mistakes, I’ll fix ‘em later :)

Giggling erupts in the hallway and you sigh, closing your eyes for a couple of seconds. Bucky and his girlfriend were back from wherever they had went. With a frown now etched on your face, you grab the container of Oreo’s and your glass of milk and make your way into Steve’s room where you would be watching some Disney movies.

“Took you long enough, I nearly started the movie without you.” he joked as you went to sit on the floor beside him.

“Yeah well I had to wait a while. Bucky and Ella came back and I didn’t want to run into them in the hall.” you respond, placing the Oreo’s between the two of you.

Steve looked at you and frowned. He knew how you felt about Bucky, hell, the whole team did, except Bucky of course. You had admired him for so long. He was perfection in your eyes but you were always too scared to ever make a move, worried that he’d reject you. When you finally decided to tell him how you felt, you discovered that he had a girlfriend.

He had barely started dating Ella and it crushed you. Steve would always tell you that it wouldn’t last, that he’d break up with her soon because Bucky just wasn’t the type for long term relationships. It’s been 2 years now and they’re still going strong. You pretend to be happy for him but deep down you want to be her. She gets to hold him and kiss him; you want that. You want to be the source of his happiness, the reason he smiles all the time.

But we don’t always get what we want.

“They’ll end it soon Y/N. Bucky isn’t the-”

“Long term relationship type of person.” you finish for him. “You’ve been saying that for two years Steve.”

“Well it’s true.” he shrugged, turning his head towards the tv where The Little Mermaid was playing.

“I think you’re wrong.” you say, grabbing an Oreo and dipping it into the milk.

“And why’s that?” he turns back to you.

“Because he looks at Ella the way that I look at him. With-”

“Love!” Bucky suddenly bursts into the room. “I’m in love!”

He waltz over to Steve’s bed and plops down behind you with a sigh. You bite the inside of your cheek before stuffing the Oreo in your mouth and turning to Steve who was already looking at you. He felt bad for you; everyone did. You loved someone who didn’t love you back.

“What are you guys watching?” Bucky turned to lay on his stomach. “Ooo The Little Mermaid, I love this movie.”

You sighed and closed your eyes, leaning your head back on the bed. When you opened them back up, you were met with Bucky’s face. He smiled at you, that goofy grin making your heart melt.

“Hi Y/N.” he spoke.

“Hi Buck.” you sighed out, lifting your head back up to watch the movie.

The rest of the night consisted of Bucky playing with your hair and stacking Oreo’s on top of your head.

1 year later

Exactly 4 months after the movie night in Steve’s room, Bucky had his heartbroken. He had found out that Ella had been cheating on him for a while. He broke things off instantly. He stayed cooped up in his room, crying and wondering what he did to deserve such a horrible thing. While he did that, you were moving out of the tower and into your very own apartment. You decided it was about time to move out. The rest of the gang helped you move, all of course except Bucky.

He didn’t even know you had moved out until he walked over to your old room for some advice. He remembers it like yesterday.

Deciding to get out of his room and go to you for some advice, Bucky made his way over to your room. He was exhausted, eyes burning from crying so much but he was determined to go and talk to you. You always had great advice which made you an amazing friend.

Bucky opened up your door, expecting to see you sitting on your bed watching a movie or browsing the web on your laptop but instead he was met with nothing but an empty room. Confused, he walked over the common room and walked straight up to his best friend.

“Where’s Y/N?”

The blonde turns his gaze to the brunette and smiles. “Hey Buck, you’re finally out of your room. How’re you doing?”

He ignored the question. “Where’s Y/N.”

Bucky had now gained the rest of the team members attention and they watched as Steve broke the news to his friend.

“She moved a couple of days ago, Bucky.” he spoke softly.

That night he went over to your apartment, asking why you left and begging you to come back as it ‘wasn’t the same without you’. You declined but said he was welcome at your place anytime.

It had now been a year since the breakup with Ella and Bucky sat on the couch in the tower with Steve and Sam. Somehow you came up in the conversation and they had been talking about you for a while.

“I don’t think she ever had a boyfriend while living here.” Bucky comments, leaning on the couch.

“Of course she didn’t, she was in love with you.” Sam chuckled, saying it as if Bucky had known all this time.

The soldier sat up quickly. “What?”

Steve glared at Sam who ignored his friends look. “Don’t act like you didn’t know. She made it pretty obvious.”

“I didn’t know.” Bucky said. “Steve, did you know about this?”

The blonde put his head down in a way of silently giving Bucky an answer but Sam spoke up.

“Of course he did, everyone did.”

Bucky scoffed. “And no one decided to tell me? She didn’t think to tell me something this serious?”

“She tried to Buck.” Steve sighed, lifting his head to meet eyes with his friend.

“When was that because during all of our conversations not once did she tell me that she was in love wi-”

“She tried telling you the day you told her about you dating Ella.” Steve cut him off and Bucky slowly leaned back in the couch, mentally replaying that day.

Bucky had barely began dating Ella but the both of them decided to keep their relationship a secret. It had been a week and Bucky wanted to tell someone - anyone about him and Ella but of course, he kept his mouth shut. So he sat on his bed, thinking about Ella and when he’d be able to see her again. He was head over heels for her.

A knock on his door tore him away from his thoughts and he yelled a ‘come in’. There stood you, hands clasped in front of you as you shut the door behind your figure.

“Hey Bucky, I have to tell you something.” you spoke softly. On the outside you looked calm, but on the inside you were freaking the fuck out.

“Y/N! I have to tell you something too!” he shot up from his bed and walked over to you. “Me first.” he then grabbed you by your shoulders, a smile upon his lips and you almost thought he was going to kiss you until he started shaking you. “I have a girlfriend!”

Your heart dropped instantly and Bucky continued. “I actually wasn’t supposed to tell anyone because we’re keeping our relationship a secret but I couldn’t hold it in any longer!”

“That’s.. That’s great Buck.” you say. “When did you two start dating?”

“A week ago. We’ve been talking for a while though. Her name is Ella. Isn’t that such a beautiful name?” he was practically drooling at the thought of her.

“It is.” you nod, forcing a smile. “I’m happy for you, Bucky.”

“Thanks.” he flashed you a goofy grin. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

You had almost forgotten the reason why you came to his room in the first place. “Uh.. I just wanted to tell you that dinners almost ready.”

Bucky nods and thanks you before you exit his room, instantly making your way to your room where you broke down in tears.

“Oh my god.” Bucky breathed.

Something clicked inside of him. There was a reason why he always came to you for advice, a reason why he’d always go to you when he felt down. He loved you - he was in love with you. He couldn’t believe how long it took him to realize this but he decided to not waste anymore time.

“Where’s Y/N? Is she at home?” he questioned the two men sitting before him.

“She should be. Why?” Steve answered.

Bucky jumped up from the couch and ran over to his room to put on his shoes before grabbing his car keys and rushing out of the building, heading straight for your apartment. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was over the years. There you were, always there for him when he needed you, in love with him and he chose someone else who ended up breaking his heart.

Upon making it to your apartment, he parked his car and instead of taking the elevator, he dashed up the stairs in a hurry. Out of breath, he knocked on your door repeatedly until you swung the door open, thinking it was that annoying kid who liked to knock on your door then run away.

“Oh hey Buck.” you say. “Sorry about how I answered the door. There’s this kid that-”

He shut you up with a kiss. He put everything he had in it. It was rough, but soft; needy to be more precise. You pulled away first, confusion written all over your face.

“Bucky, what the he-”

“I’m in love with you.” he blurts. “I always have been, I was just too stupid to realize it back then. I thought Ella was the one for me but really, it’s you. I can’t believe it took me this long but Y/N I’m so madly in love with you, it’s unbelievable.”

“Bucky, where did all of this come from?” you question, that obviously not being what Bucky expected you to say.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean just the other day you were telling me about some girl you met at the bar the night before and now you’re telling me that you’re in love with me.” you say before groaning. “Oh my god did Steve tell you about how I feel about you?”

“So you love me back?” he smiled, full of hope.

“Of course I do you giant idiot! I made it quite obvious.” you respond.

“Am I really that oblivious?” Bucky nervously chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck.

“All signs point to yes.” you nod, causing Bucky to groan.

“Are you gonna keep bashing me for being stupid and idiotic or are you gonna let me in so that I can make out with you?”

You tap your chin for a bit before answering. “I think I’ll go with the first one.”

Bucky laughs, stepping forward and taking you in his arms. “Stop being mean and kiss me.”

You let out a laugh, lips connecting with his as he moves the two of you inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Took you long enough.” you mutter throughout the kiss.

“Shut up.” he chuckled, attacking your lips once more.

A/N: I'M BAAAAACCKKKKKKK YAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!

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