#and a wall-mounted television. side tables & end tables

[beta-isaac-lahey]

Contemporary Family Room - Family Room

[chinesekleptocracy]

Family Room - Beach Style Family Room

[kentocidal]

OPEN UP AND SAY "AHH..." .txt

USERS: dentist!kento nanami x fem!afab!reader

WARNING! THIS FILE HAS BEEN CORRUPTED WITH THE FOLLOWING MALWARE: dubcon, oral inspection, gloves, medical malpractice(?), oral (m!receiving), spit, dacryphilia, choking/gagging, power imbalance, oral fixation, ask to tag

NOTES: something happened to me while i was writing this. anyway, here you go. ~3.2k words.

the dentist’s office was one of those medical buildings that was clearly a house before it was an office. built in a cape cod style with a tiny parking lot that had been added far later. you had found this place online, after it had gotten some stellar five-star reviews that you trusted enough to schedule a consultation and a cleaning. 

it wasn’t one of those gimmicky, commercialized dentists either. it didn’t have a tooth for a mascot, or a commercial with a jingle that never left your head. it was simply a dentist’s office. the page on google came up as “kento nanami, d.m.d., dental practitioner and surgeon.” 

something about the blandness of the webpage, matched with the homey feel of the office, dissuaded your nerves. you had finally found an office you felt comfortable going to get your cleaning at.

you took a breath in as you stepped through the threshold, and found that the home had absolutely been converted to a medical building. the hardwood flooring, the almost sickly yellow lighting, the stock paintings on the walls of oceans or some tropical place. it would almost be tacky in any other place, but it felt right for a dentist’s office such as this.

the girl at the desk, clearly some part-timer, popped her gum as she looked up from her phone when you approached. “do you have an appointment?” “ah, yes. at twelve-thirty?” you nodded faintly, eyes glancing over the girl’s nametag. ‘k. nobara.’ perhaps she was studying under dr. nanami.

she hummed softly as she clicked around on her desktop for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “i see it. here, just fill this out, and i’ll send you right back.” she flashed the barest hint of a bored smile at you as she placed a teal clipboard on the desk with a pen, and you thanked her before going to sit in one of the padded chairs.

name, address, insurance information, when you had your last cleaning, reason for your visit. standard paperwork for a new patient. 

how did you hear about dr. nanami?

you wrote in: online. all positive reviews! :) 

you filled out the rest of your medical information before walking the paperwork back up to nobara, who took it from you and popped the bubble she made with her gum. she barely even looked at it before taking it to the scanner and making a copy. once she finished her own side of the paperwork, she looped around the desk and opened a door to lead you down a tiny hallway. “just this way, please.”

she brought you into a small room retrofitted to be an examination room. the dentist’s chair was in the middle surrounded by all of the necessary equipment. there was a television mounted to the wall, displaying what was on the computer monitor in the corner, there to reflect x-rays and other important images. nobara moved a little table filled with sharp instruments on it over to the side to allow you space to sit in the chair. you sat, taking a breath and sitting back. the leather squeaked under you, and it wasn’t the most comfortable place to be, but it was to be expected.

nobara made sure you were settled before grabbing a piece of blue medical tissue and a thin ball chain with clips on either end, leaning over you to place it around your neck as a bib.

“dr. nanami’s just finishing up with his patient, he’ll be right in for you.”

you nodded and thanked her again, to which she smiled softly before leaving and shutting the door behind herself.

it was quiet outside of the ticking of a clock behind you and faint music playing from another room. it didn’t take long for the music to be turned off, footsteps to come down the hall, muffled chatter to be heard as who you assumed to be the doctor’s last patient gets checked out.

you shift in the seat and lick your lips, nerves returning. you didn’t really like the dentist (who does, anyway?), but you couldn’t find a reason to be so worried about it outside of superstition and online horror stories. 

just as you buried yourself into your head, there were two rapt knocks on the door behind you before it was pushed open. “ms. l/n?”

“ah,” you turned your head and peered over the back of the chair the best you could as the doctor entered and shut the door behind him, “yes, that’s me, hi.”

“nice to meet you.” he was tall, broad, curt; his hair was perfectly styled atop his head, wearing a blue polo and khaki slacks rather than scrubs. the only dentist-ish thing about him was the surgical mask that was pulled under his chin. 

brown eyes met yours and his lips quirked up into a cordial smile as he approached. you smiled back, feeling heat rise to your cheeks; he was far more attractive in person than he was on his medical profile.

“nice to meet you as well. thank you for squeezing me in, i-”

“it’s no problem. there was an opening. it made sense to get you in here quicker rather than make you wait.” he shook his head as he grabbed the rolling stool from under the nearby desk and took a seat, dragging the computer stand over with him to start typing away. 

“you’re here for a consultation, yes?”

“consult and a cleaning, yeah,” you breathed, fingers curling into the fabric of your pants. “it’s… been a while.”

“when was the last time you had a cleaning?”

“three years?” you smiled sheepishly when the doctor cast you a sidelong glance and clicked his tongue. “i didn’t mean to keep forgetting! i was new to the area at that time, and it just kept slipping my mind.”

“still, it’s not good to neglect regular visits like that. i’ll make sure you schedule your six month follow-up before you leave today.”

you nodded, because that made sense. at least he seemed to care about your health, unlike some other dentists you’ve had before in the past.

dr. nanami typed for a moment more before pushing the computer away and getting back to his feet. “before we can start, i need to take some x-rays of your teeth. have you had this done before?”

“a long time ago, yeah,” you watched closely as dr. nanami took a step over to where a protective vest was hanging, watching him pull it down before approaching you again.

he used a foot pedal to lean the chair back slightly, and you went with it, your head resting against the high back of the chair. he looked much taller from this lower angle, his cheekbones high and his jaw cut and perfectly angled. 

he laid the heavy vest over your chest and then leaned over your body completely to reach for the x-ray camera that was hovering overhead, tugging it down closer to you. you sucked in a breath; he smelled of some foreign, expensive cologne, the scent making your head spin slightly. 

dr. nanami hummed in the back of his throat as he stepped away from you to reach for a box of gloves on the desk, tugging out two of the black latex garments and pulling them on, one at a time. you watched the latex shine in the sickly fluorescent light of the examination room, watched the way he stretched the rubbery material over thick fingers and broad palms. one by one, he snapped them on, making sure he was protected. 

you shifted in the chair again when he leaned over you to bring the plastic piece to your mouth. he was so close – he had to be, this was an exam, snap out of it! – “i just need you to open up wide and then bite down on this, okay? it’s going to take a few photos of your teeth and your jaw.”

you blinked like a deer in headlights, because suddenly a gloved finger was tapping your cheek. you opened your mouth, nice and wide, and felt the cold plastic slip past your lips and rest between your teeth.

“bite down,” and you did, “that’s it. good. now stay still.”

you found yourself preening under his ministrations. he would step away and let the machine whir as it photographed your teeth and your bones and your jaw structure, and then he would be right back in your space to adjust where you were holding the piece between your teeth. he took about five or six pictures (it felt like you were swimming in his cologne) before he finally pulled the piece from your mouth with a soft pop and pushed the attachment away.

his wide, gloved hands lifted the vest from your chest, and you felt like you could breathe again once the weight was gone.

“not so bad, hm?” dr. nanami quipped, though he didn’t smile, and you laughed airily like a little girl who got caught with ice cream she shouldn’t be having.

“not so bad, right.���

he nodded once before he took a seat on the stool again and sat right next to you, pulling up the fresh x-rays as they loaded up. you were presented with the images on the television just as dr. nanami viewed them up close on the computer screen in front of him.

“your teeth look good,” he murmured, as if it was more to himself than to you. “all even – none missing. adult teeth grew in almost perfectly, though you did wear a retainer briefly, did you not?”

“yes.”

“right.” he clicked over towards an image of your molars, humming under his breath. “have you been experiencing any pain in this area?”

“hm? no, why?”

“there’s a bit of a dark spot here,” he moved the mouse over to a spot on the image, on a tooth that had to be all the way in the back of your mouth. “it could be a cavity.”

you moved your tongue in your mouth to feel for it, but came up short. “i don’t feel it, but maybe.”

dr. nanami pushed the computer away and shifted closer to you, reaching up over your body to grab the light fixture and drag it down towards you. using the foot pedal again, he brought your chair back, back, back; it felt like you were completely horizontal by now. 

he rolled his stool over to be behind your head, leaning over you. it was almost as if your head was in his lap, separated only by the chair’s headrest.

he pulled the light down lower until it was perfectly on your lips. once settled into position, he moved his surgical mask back up and over his mouth and nose, and you thought that it somehow made his eyes all the more alluring to you.

“i need to conduct a further oral examination to assess the cavity. is that alright?”

“yes,” you breathed, and dr. nanami made a sound of approval. 

you figured he would reach over for the metal table and grab for one of those little mirrors, or maybe even a water pik of some kind, but, no; dr. nanami leaned more over you and pressed two gloved fingers to your lips.

“open up and stick your tongue out, yeah?”

you blinked at him, heat rushing up to your cheeks once again. you felt as though your ears were playing tricks on you; dr. nanami had sounded huskier, like his voice had dropped an entire octave when he muttered the command to you.

you swallowed the saliva that pooled on your tongue before opening your mouth as wide as you could, sticking out your tongue and flattening it so he could see your teeth better. 

“good girl.”

your whole body shuddered the moment those gloved fingers pressed on your tongue with the utterance of those two little words. what was this?

a part of you was saying that something was off about his ministrations, about the way his fingers pressed and almost petted the flat of your tongue before starting to explore deeper. the other parts of you, however…

it felt as though you were floating as dr. nanami brought his other hand up to your face to hook a finger in your cheek and pull slightly, tugging your mouth open just a little wider. your eyes fluttered and you made a wet little sound, only for dr. nanami to click his tongue behind his mask and murmur for you to settle. 

his fingers continued their journey, probing and prodding at the warm flesh of your cheeks, the hardness of your teeth, rubbing and feeling over your tongue and your flesh and bone.

you whimpered softly when you felt his index finger rub over your molar in the far back of your mouth. it felt as though his whole hand was forcing your little mouth open, but that definitely wasn’t the case. 

“what a pretty little mouth you have,” muttered the doctor, before his fingers dove down towards your throat.

you gagged harshly around his digits and kicked up a fuss in the chair, rattling the attachments and kicking your feet. dr. nanami let up only for a moment as you felt drool start to form at the corners of your mouth and coat your tongue. your eyes brimmed with tears, wetting your lashes, and dr. nanami only watched you with those golden brown eyes.

you couldn’t see the bottom half of his face, but he had to have been panting.

“your teeth are in very good condition,” he spoke in such a soft tone it almost had you relaxing again as he unhooked his finger from your cheek, letting your jaw slip just slightly closed again to try and find comfort. 

“ah, i’m not finished,” dr. nanami chastised you with a tap of his wet finger on your cheek, and you whined softly under him as his forefinger started to probe and inspect your mouth yet again.

one by one he inspected all of your teeth the best he could, feeling each one, filling your mouth with the taste of latex and the scent of his cologne. your eyes were locked on his face, while his were locked on the way your lashes stuck together, wet with tears, and drool started to drip from your lips and drag down your cheeks. 

his eyes flickered away from his inspection for a brief moment to watch the way your thighs were squeezing together, and that was it for him, the sign that he needed.

he pulled his fingers from your mouth and tugged his mask off of his face, placing it to the side as you heaved.

“now then,” he started, shifting back away from you as you caught your breath, “your teeth are in perfect condition, but i’m concerned about your throat. let’s… conduct an experiment.”

your wet eyes shifted hazily backwards as you tried to look at him again, only to be met by a thick cock springing free from dr. nanami’s khakis. he was leaky and drippy at the tip, and it smacked wetly against your cheek.

oh. oh.

you squirmed in the seat and moved yourself backwards (or, well, up towards him) with a bit of his help, a wet hand on your shoulder tugging your body up so your head would hang off the headrest of the dentist’s chair. 

from this angle, dr. nanami didn’t even need to get up. he could stay seated in his stool and let you do all the work.

but you were his patient, and he was your doctor. he would take care of you.

he shifted his weight and took his cock in hand, guiding the tip over your spit-soaked lips. his other hand wrapped loosely around your throat, his thumb hooking onto your jaw to force your mouth open.

“there you go, nice and wide, just like that…” dr. nanami hunched over you, studying your fucked out expression. “is this okay?” “ye-yes,” you whispered, and dr. nanami finally smiled down at you. it was brief and fleeting, but it was there.

and then he gathered spit between his lips and let it drip down onto your waiting tongue.

you moaned, quiet and wanton, just as dr. nanami slipped his cock into your mouth.

he tasted musky and salty and perfect. he fucked your mouth open slowly, his hand a nice weight on your throat, helping to hold your twitchy body down as you shook with anticipation.

slowly, slowly, he worked the tip of his cock further and further into your mouth, until he was muttering, “open wider, wider, just like that, good girl, take it…”

it felt like all of your blood was rushing to your brain in this position, but at the moment, you didn’t care. all you cared about was how you choked and gagged around the tip of dr. nanami’s cock as he worked it into your awaiting throat.

he sheathed himself in your tight heat and started to rut into you as your throat fluttered around his girthy length. the room filled with the sounds of skin-on-skin, soft gags, wet plaps, and dr. nanami’s little gasps and moans.

he moved his hand from your throat to the hem of your pants, managing to undo the button and the zipper with just one gloved hand before it was slipping into the front of your panties to graze over your clit.

you gasped and moaned around his cock before starting to choke again, drool dribbling all over your cheeks and face as dr. nanami collected some of your slick on his gloved fingers to rub your clit in quick circles.

“shh, quiet. feels good, right? feels nice to have your throat fucked like this? you like it when your doctor touches you here?”

you had gotten so turned on that his words were almost enough to send you over the edge, your nails clawing at the rubbery material of the dentist’s chair.

“i can feel you throbbing,” he grunted as he fucked his cock deeper into your throat, “go ahead, cum on my fingers, cum, cum-”

his fingers didn’t stop even as you creamed in your pants and all over his gloved hand, your body jerking and your throat constricting around his cock. dr. nanami groaned low in his throat as he finished down yours, pumping his hips slowly and riding out his own high.

he pulled back from you and panted, pulling his hand from your panties and licking your juices off of his glove, then discarding both. 

you laid on the dentist’s chair, head hung over the edge, boneless and still twitching from the waves of your pleasure.

“now, for your cleaning…”

—

“so, do you want to make your six-month follow-up now? or should we send you a letter reminder in the mail?” nobara popped her gum and twirled her pen between her fingers as she looked you over.

“i’d-i’d like to make it now, please.”

“sure. and don’t forget to leave us a good review online, alright?”

[act-nat-ural]

Occupied

Chapter One: No Rest For The Wicked

(If you want to be added to the tag list lmk!)

prologue \\\ chapter 2

The REDACTED Clause; If a government employee has housing available and is willing and open, military personnel could temporarily seek refuge there if needed.

——

Well, it appears Eliza wasn’t lying. The cabin was empty. You decide to spend your first day of vacation unpacking and exploring the cabin. Unpacking only took you an hour or so, with you only needing to find a space to store your clothes and pick which bedroom you were going to stay in. You ended up deciding to stay in the master bedroom on the second floor, with a bathroom attached.

The bedroom was, for lack of better words, bare-bones. There was a bed (king-sized, yippee!), a nightstand, a dresser, and a television mounted onto the wall. You couldn’t decipher if this was Adam’s room or not, you wouldn’t be shocked if it was. The bathroom attached didn’t have any products in it, or toilet paper, but it did have a larger-than-average tub.

With nothing important left to do, it was time for exploring. A quick scan of the first floor told you that you weren’t staying in Adam’s bedroom (thank God), and he had preferred a much smaller room downstairs. You could infer this because of the posters mounted into the walls and the large, computer desk on one side of the room. You also located the kitchen, with the dining room attached. The kitchen had a pale blue tiling that matched the cabinets and carpet in the living room. The fridge was nothing fancy but it would make due. The dining room was surprisingly large considering he probably never has company over. The dining table was approximately 8 feet long with 3 chairs on each side, the wood seeming to be Walnut.

There was another bathroom on the first floor, down the hallway from Adam’s bedroom. You could tell this was the one he used because of the 5-in-1 shampoo in the shower. He didn’t have any feminine products in his cabinet (duh), so you mentally added them to your shopping list. He did, however, have a first aid kit under the sink. You shrugged it off, paying it no mind. You were confident you wouldn’t end up needing to use it.

You make your way to the living room and flop backward onto the couch. It was an ugly, plaid pattern, yet shockingly comfortable. You go over your shopping list in your head as you switch the television on. You would need to stock up on pads or tampons, as well as get groceries for dinner. You noticed earlier while going through the rooms that the outlets were a different type than in the States, so you would also need an adapter. As you close your eyes and try to make sense of your mind, the excitement of the day and jet lag catches up to you. Quietly, with the TV on in the background, you drift off to sleep.

——

The last thing you expected was to get awoken by not one, but two pairs of fists slamming on the front door. You jump up, sleep still in your eyes, and stumble to the door. You peer through the peephole and see four men in uniform, one getting held up by another and bleeding everywhere. What. The. Fuck.

“For the love of god, open the bloody door mate!” A gruff, British accent spits out.

Without thinking, you swing open the door. The men urgently push past you into the cabin, except for one.

“Where’s the dining room, love?” He tries to ask gently, but you can tell he has a sense of panic to him. He holds eye contact with you, dark brown eyes looking into yours. His hat dons the British flag, but it’s stained with blood.

Wow. What a hunk.

“It’s uh- there.” You say dumbly, pointing down the hall. All four of them disappear into the dining room, leaving you alone. You freeze for a minute, assessing the situation. Oh shit. That man is probably bleeding all over the table. You rush past the kitchen to confirm your suspicions. Yes, the man with the large wound on his side was in fact on the table, bleeding all over the place. The largest man in the room, and for sure the creepiest considering the strange mask on his face, was holding pressure to the wound end telling the man below him to ‘stop fucking moving.’

“Medkit, Garrick, where’s the goddamn medkit?” The man with the gruff voice throws his hands in the air in exasperation.

“Respectfully, captain, I'm fucking looking!” Brown-eyed hunk spits back, digging through his pack

“I, er, have one.” Both men’s heads whip around to face you. You blink back at them. “Oh right. hold on-“ You rush into the first-floor bathroom, accidentally shoulder-checking the wall on your way there. You swing open the cabinet under think. Aha! The first aid kit. Wow, you didn’t think you would need it, let alone so soon. You hand the first aid kit over to ‘Garrick’ as soon as you reenter the dining room. He gets to work on the man on the table, cutting his shirt away and disinfecting the wound.

You stand awkwardly in the corner of the room. You take this moment to thoroughly inspect their appearances. They all seem to be military men, likely special forces or the like. The man with the mask on has a deep voice and doesn’t seem to be talking much. You think you see blood on his leg but it’s hard to make out with the black on his uniform. His accent seems different from that of the others, but you think he’s still English. The man on the table has a short, buzzed mohawk. You can’t decipher what the hell he’s saying, with the accent and the cursing coming out of his mouth. You are more focused on the blood dripping from the table to the pale blue tiles on the floor. Your eyes water and you can feel the bile rise in your throat.

You turn and run into the kitchen, vomiting into the trash can. You never thought you had a phobia of blood, but you have never seen a wound of that caliber. Jesus Christ, you hope he doesn’t die here. You wipe your mouth and try to steady yourselves.

“Towels.”

Your eyes widen and you spin around, seeing ‘Ghost’, whose name you heard from Mr. Mohawk, standing in the doorway.

“…Pardon?” You blink, shivering under his intense stare.

“Where are your towels.” You point at the cabinet on the right side of the room, eyes never leaving his. He strides over there in two steps and grabs almost all the towels out of the drawer. He leaves without so much as a thank you. Wow… rude.

You compose yourself and follow him. Garrick is still stitching up the mohawked man’s wounds, working as quickly and efficiently as humanly possible.

“Excuse me, love, but where is your husband?” The man with the facial hair asks you. You look around, before pointing to yourself. He raises a brow in response. “Yes, you.”

“You have the wrong person, I’m not married.”

“No? Are you sure?” You furrow your brows.

“Yeah, I think I would know if I was married.”

“Then how do you know Adam Baker?”

[cathode-raygirl]

Salvation for a Broken Bot Chapter 2: Reconstruction

4MB-3R wakes up to find a pretty girl repairing it, but that’s not the only surprise in store for it

You don’t technically need to have read chapter 1 but there’s a link to it here

This chapter is also sfw, I was expecting to get to the nsfw parts but I ended up focusing on exploring gender and characterisation instead. Next time >:3 (Even though its sfw, 18+ only because i WILL take this in an nsfw route)

If you have any questions or feedback feel free to comment or send me an ask!

4MB-3R-0069196 awoke suddenly with no sense of sight, hearing, or even control of its limbs. Completely alone with its thoughts, desperately wondering what was going on and how it got like this.

It began by running a simple diagnostics check, discovering to its horror that almost all of its major components had either failed, or were seemingly no longer connected. Perhaps there had been some kind of accident. A car crash? But then it wouldn’t be awake right now. Not only that, it seemed like it was currently running on a different power supply unit to normal. 

4MB-3R checked its recent logs and memories. Nothing of note there. Seems like it had been called to a meeting with Miss Clayton (An honour!!!!!) and…. Whatever had happened to it then had disabled its ability to save memories to disk.

After a few minutes of contemplation, it felt a strange sensation. It almost felt like… Something touching its face? But according to the diagnostics checks it no longer *had* a face. Then suddenly it felt something connecting to it and… Vision!

4MB-3R scanned its surroundings. It appeared to be inside a workshop. Or rather… A living room that had been converted into a workshop. Several large shelves full of various parts lined the walls of this peculiar room, while tools and cables lay strewn across the carpeted floor. Directly in front of 4MB-3R’s field of vision, a large mirror was propped up against the wall. Looking through it, the android could see what it assumed was its body. 

The delicate silicon panels had been removed from its frame, exposing the bare metal chassis underneath. Instead of being connected to an official Ashdown charging station, a long, thick cable connected 4MB-3R to a standard wall socket. Strangest of all, its head seemed to have been replaced by a television, which was currently displaying several question marks against a black background. A webcam was mounted on top of the television, which 4MB-3R assumed was what was providing it with its new sense of vision.

A human approached 4MB-3R, carrying a small metal cube. She looked like she was in her mid twenties, and had a pretty, freckled face, with pink hair, which was currently tied up into a bun. She was wearing a long, black shirt with a drawing of a cat on it, and seemingly nothing else. 

She’s beautiful, 4MB-3R thought to itself, staring at her intently through the webcam. To its horror, it noticed that the television attached to its body now displayed those words. Could it be… displaying its thoughts? 

The girl moved the webcam onto the table, making sure to angle it so that 4MB-3R could see what she was doing, and carefully tipped the television onto its side. Reaching into the innards of the device, she began rummaging around until she found a long, red cable. She blew on the connector, which caused 4MB-3R to feel a tingling sensation, and plugged it into the box she had carried into the room. After a second, 4MB-3R could suddenly hear again!

The whirring of fans, the sounds of the girl screwing the speaker into the tv, the woman’s gentle breathing, the sound of traffic in the distance, the rain outside against the glass of a nearby window, it all came rushing into her sensors at once, almost overwhelming her but not quite.

The girl seemed to notice this, and stroked the screen tenderly. 

“Don’t worry, you’re doing so well for me! I know this must be super scary for you” said the girl in a tender voice while stroking the screen, clearly noticing 4MB-3R’s anxiety. Her touch felt good, yet despite this the android wondered how it could possibly feel someone’s touch through a sheet of solid glass. Was it due to the static electricity? 

The girl set the television back on the correct side. “You must have a lot of questions right now! I know I would. I’m going to try and find a vocal synthesiser for you, but in the meantime I can read what’s on your screen. What’s your name? Mine is Rose”

That’s such a pretty name, 4MB-3R thought, before realising its every thought was being broadcasted for Rose to see. 

“Oh thank you!!!” Rose said, beaming “I chose it myself”

What is my name, 4MB-3R wondered. It had always been referred to as its serial number, 4MB-3R-0069196, or simply as “the bot”. Did it even want a name? 4MB-3R is fine, it thought at last, underlining the name several times on the screen.

“How is that pronounced?” 

It’d probably be easier to tell you once you find a vocal synthesiser, 4MB-3R thought, before suddenly freaking out over how impatient that sounded.

“Don’t worry about that! I can’t imagine how weird it probably feels for you right now” 

Rose stood up and began inspecting a nearby shelf. “I’m sure there’s one here somewhere… Although it.. You might not like it. It’s quite extreme.” 

4MB-3R wondered to itself how a voice could possibly sound extreme, as Rose fished the box from a bucket on one of the lower shelves. It was the size of her thumb, and was made of a frosted, pink plastic. 

Rose tilted the television on its side again, and began poking around. This time she had forgotten to move the webcam aside in her excitement, so 4MB-3R had no idea what she was doing in there.

“This might feel a bit weird at first” she said at last, and plugged the box into the bot’s motherboard. “Try and focus on saying something simple. Like your name”

“H-heLLO. M-my name is 4MB-3R” it stuttered out. The voice was…. Definitely extreme. It was high pitched, robotic, and the speakers in the television had definitely seen better days. But most importantly of all, it had a strong feminine feeling to it.

“Sorry about that. I salvaged it from a kids toy, I know it’s not great. I can try and buy a new one tomorrow!” 

“No it’s… I like it! It has personality to it. My old voice just felt dull and boring. This feels right to me.” 4MB-3R replied, as its screen became covered in pink hearts again.

“Well as long as you’re okay with it, that’s fine by me,” Rose replied, sifting through a box of tools and retrieving a screwdriver, “I just kindof assumed you’d hate it since you look like you’re one of the androgynous models”

“Well I…” 4MB-3R stopped talking almost as soon as it started, struggling to put its thoughts into words. As delivery drivers, the 4MB units had been designed to look as androgynous and unremarkable as possible. 4MB-3R had often found itself envying the slender, feminine frames of the 4NN units that were responsible for interacting with the mostly male customer base. Was it just jealous of the attention they got or… was there something else to it? 

“I think I prefer feminine”, 4MB-3R said at last

“Well… I need to replace the plating on your chassis anyway so… What if I made you look more feminine, too?”

The fans within 4MB-3R’s head began whirring with excitement. At Ashdown, any modification was banned, even something as simple as putting sitckers on your panels. The thought of being able to do body modification, something that 4MB-3R wouldn’t consider even in its wildest dreams, filled it with an indescribably joy.

“I’d love that more than anything in the world”, 4MB-3R said at last, her screen filling with pink hearts once again.

[thinkingaboutlifefornow]

The brave little ghost

Chapter 2

Bucky x reader

Warnings: Violence

(( Thank you so much to those who read the last chapter. I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to read it, let alone to actually like it. So thank you again ))

You were sat in some fancy modern room, so different from the cell and training rooms you were used to. In the middle of the room was the conference table, with four chairs either side of it and one at the top end. At the opposite end mounted up on the wall was a television, showing pictures of the two missions. A man and a women, around mid 30s. He was a brunette, she was blonde. Winter sat to your left.

No background information was given on the two missions, just brief information on where they would be in the next 24hrs. A motel on the outskirts of New York. This would be quick and easy.

“What is your mission Phantom?” The middled aged man, you come to refer to as sir, asked.

“To kill both missions, and nobody is to see me” you replied almost monotoned.

“Good, you’re a Phantom for a reason. To be unseen” he grinned.

“Yes Sir” you said automatically.

“You are both now active to complete your missions” he spoke confidently. With that you both stood up from your seats, the word active was used to mean from this moment you’re only reason to live, to breathe, was to complete your mission. Programmed into your system like you were a computer.

……….

You and Winter sat in an unremarkable black car in the motel carpark, away from any lights using the shadows as your cover.

You both watch as the missions came into view, walking along almost hugging the wall to the motel. They were extra vigilant, heads on a constant swivel. You are amazed they don’t see you both or in fact the car. Once they were both inside their motel room, and a few seconds had passed for them to lock the door, you and Winter exited the car into the shadows that hid the car to begin with.

“после тебя, маленькое привидение, пора завершить свою миссию” after you little ghost, time to complete your mission, Winter spoke cold and harsh.

You advanced, crouching to avoid being seen through the windows you passed. When you arrived at the mission’s door you stood up tall and proud, smiling at the peep hole just incase they were looking out of it.

Seconds later you lifted your left foot up, and with what felt like minimal effort to you, kicked the door in. As the door flew in there was indeed a person behind the door, the man was now knocked out by the flying door throwing him into the opposite wall.

You turned immediately to your left to see the women crouched down under the window, trying to make herself as small as possible. You marched to her, your right hand grabbing her by the throat and pulled her up. Squeezing her wind pipes, you didn’t feel anything. Not happy, not sad, not angry. Just no emotion.

“Mr Pierce wants you to think of the wrongs you’ve done” you recited as you were told to the women, it was the last thing she heard before her wind pipe was crushed and she was lifeless.

Dropping her. You then turned and marched to the unconscious man, whispering the same sentence to him. Before taking your knife from your thigh holster and stabbing him through the temple of his head.

“очень креативно” very creative, Winter spoke from the doorway. You could sense the whole time he was stood there, watching assessing your capability.

“Mission complete” you spoke, wiping off the blood from your knife on the mans clothes then placing it back in your holster.

“Very good, Sir will be pleased.” He spoke with no tone to his voice.

You grabbed the door you had kicked in, and as you left the motel room you placed it in the door way. It wasn’t perfect but it would do till the bodies were discovered in the morning.

“ты использовал мою технологию?” Did you use my tech? You asked hopeful.

“да, камеры протираются. Это похоже на призрак” yes, cameras are wiped. It looks like a ghost, he spoke.

“Do you know what a cheese burger is?” The words fell from your mouth, you brain malfunctioned and a memory had slipped through. No pictures, just the word cheese burger.

He looked down at you sides ways, almost calculation what to say next. You knew what it meant when something slipped through. Back to that room. Back to the pain.

[alexbraindump]

501-B - Chapter 1: Descent

“With the introduction of the brand-new line of Fysi-Apomi hyper-resilient plant life, even those of you out in the most remote corners of the galaxy may create your own little garden! Stuffed with all the nutrients one could need and capable of producing up to quadruple the fresh oxygen of regular plants, our new line of greenery can help improve your life on any industrialized planet.”

A holo-television. A simple piece of technology, light suspended in the air between two strips of projectors. Colors of such depth and motion of such smoothness to suggest reality unfolding right there before oneself. Upon this particular holo-TV, the visage of a well-dressed human woman in a lush greenhouse. Flowing blonde hair and a silky suit to build the impression of one to be trusted.

“As you can see here-” She took hold of a pot. From it grew a little berry bush. “Our wonderful plantlife is capable of sprouting all the food one could need!”

The view panned outwards into a wide shot of the greenhouse. There were trees bearing fruit and bushes bearing berries and sprouts from the ground bearing vegetables. The woman walked backwards to follow the camera panning.

“With Fysi-Apomi, you can-”

Ring-ring. There was a shrill sound across the room. A remote was picked up and pointed at the holo-TV. With a press of the power button, its display dissipated into thin air. A few floating particles of light lingered for seconds. Ring-ring. The remote was tossed down onto a coffee table dotted with empty soda cans, cups of microwave noodles and the disassembled mess of a gadget or two. From the couch arose a bipedal vulpine. He pulled a hood over his face, obscuring all but the end of his snout. Ring-ring.

Dusty boots clacked against metallic flooring as he made his way across the room. It was enclosed, made of metal all around. Piping and exposed wiring ran in bundles along the ceiling and walls. Opposing ends of the room terminated in doors, one of regular size and one of a cargo bay.

Ring-ring. The fox stood before the source of the ringing. A phone mounted to the wall. On its ID screen were the words “CALL FROM: MR. B.” He pulled the phone from its terminal and held it to his ear.

“Where in the name of the gods are you, Cade?!” squawked a shrill voice. “My contact is waiting for you!”

“None’a your business, man,” Cade bit back. “You’ll get everything you need, don’t you worry.”

“Scrapbots could be encroaching upon that ship as we speak-”

“Off my back, B, goddamn. I’m just about there.”

“Define ‘just about.’”

“Close enough that I’ve gotta hang up and get ready for entry now now. Byeeee!”

“We need that part, Cade! Don’t let this end up like-”

Cade slotted the phone back into its terminal. It was followed right up by another call from Mr. B. He removed the phone, slammed it back into place and then shut the terminal off completely. Both the terminal and holo-TV having gone blank, the only sound to accompany the room was a slight, electronic droning. Cade strode off back towards his TV.

Between the TV and the wall was an empty space. Just about enough to house a person. Cade stepped into it. He pulled up his sleeve, revealing a watch underneath. Upon lifting it towards the wall, a small chime of approval sounded off. The wall creaked for a moment, hissed out a puff of air and then slid open. Its movement was staggered and jittery, but upon completion a roomy compartment was revealed within.

Green. Lots of green. Plants lined the back of the compartment, blossoming vines spread up the walls and around the corners. There was a row of synthetic sunlight strips above them, flanked on either side by watering pipes. Droplets of water dripped from the nozzles. Cade reached in and began shuffling around the plants. His clawed paws tended to the plants with gentle grace. Branches were nudged back into place, dying leaves were snipped off.

On the compartment’s floor sat multiple leather pads. They were a dark shade of brown that mirrored Cade’s own fur. Next to them laid a handgun - contained in a leather holster. Five spare magazines were scattered around it. And off in the corner was a backpack propped up against the wall. Cade took a hold of it and set it down on the floor outside before continuing on tending to his garden.

Centralized amidst all the plants was a single flower, sat in a pot of its very own. Its pedals burned a bright red, a standout look amongst the green surrounding it. Cade investigated it with movements gentle enough not to wake a sleeping mouse. He pushed it around with as much ease as his paws could muster until finding a single wilting leaf on its stem. With a grumble, he snipped the leaf off. It fluttered down into a pile of dead plant matter gathering on the compartment’s floor.

Cade swiped a few bits of debris off the leather padding. A sigh escaped his lips as he took hold of the largest piece. It was a set of straps, ones that he fastened over his torso. They made up a belt around his waist and a slash that crossed his body diagonally. Another piece - surface marked with a burn - affixed onto the strap over his left shoulder. Cade stretched and flexed his body around, allowing the upper armor to slide into place.

The handgun and its holster clipped right onto Cade’s belt. Pockets stitched on the opposite end served as perfect housing for the magazines. And with that, Cade removed the last leather plate and hit a button on the compartment’s wall. Its door came hissing shut as it returned to an airtight seal with a satisfying little click, all the while Cade began on his way across the room.

The smaller of the doors opened as Cade approached it. Beyond it was a small cockpit. A whole array of windows lined the walls. Through them a planet could be seen straight ahead. Trailing wisps and puffy blots of gray filled the atmosphere and shadowed out the surface. A central chair swiveled itself around just as the door had finished opening.

Cade tossed himself into it, setting the chair off to turn back around and present its pilot with the ship’s controls. Display panels ignited with green light in response to the fox’s presence. Each screen was pure black with nothing but green text displayed on them. A central terminal beckoned Cade to begin inputting commands, but the fox instead opted to lift his right leg and rest it on the dashboard. The final leather pad fit snugly around his thigh. He gave it a little pat, lowered his leg and sat back up.

A keyboard was situated below the central terminal. Cade reached around the ship’s control stick and typed a command. A list appeared, a long one. Each entry was a string of random letters and numbers. Cade deliberated over the long list until settling upon one of the latter choices with a click of the enter key. 076-RDMPTN24.

The control stick’s position allowed Cade’s paws to slide right off the keyboard and take hold of it. Its ergonomic design slipped into one of his paws with ease. He flicked a switch on the base of it and then began tilting it forward. One of his feet applied light pressure to the rightmost of two pedals beneath the dashboard. His free paw reached off to the side of the cabin and flicked a handful of switches. The ship angled forward, ramping up the speed of its descent.

A small crackling sounded off beside Cade, prompting an ear to perk up and nearly push his hood off. He took his paw to a dial above him and began to twist it ever so slightly. The crackling came in and out, pulsing between loud and quiet. His movements became finer and finer until the sound had plateaued out into a consistent buzz. A voice was peeking through the haze, small glimpses given of something resembling words. Syllables struggling to coagulate into complete statements.

“W..elcome to…” A robotic twang drenched the voice. “BZZT… an industrial outpost… Now welcoming trad- BZZZZT… Quality index of- BZZT… Safety equipment… nearest arrival station- bzt…”

Silence. The signal died off with one last whimper of a beep. Cade attempted to twist the dial further, but got nothing but varying degrees of static in response. A small beep here and there maybe, but nothing of substance. A lost cause, he reasoned to himself as he gave his attention back to that which awaited outside the window.

Speed was building from Cade’s planetary approach. The white-speckled blackness of space vanished from the corners of his view, replaced by writhing clouds of gray. They only seemed to darken as his approach pressed on. Cade gave a check to the gauge cluster. Dials were increasing across the board, all except for planetary surface distance.

BOOM! 

A crack of lightning caused Cade to jump in his seat. Storms announced their presence with great booms and thuds. Cade tightened his grip on the steering stick and allowed himself a deep breath. As if in response, turbulence jutted itself into the equation. Cade reached for his central dashboard and turned up a slider that was jury rigged into the wall and labeled “compartment stabilizer.” with a piece of tape. The ship was putting up its best attempt to level out, though even its best could generously be described as rocky.

Rain began speckling the glass. Cade flipped a lever and a pair of wipers began swiping in vertical motions. Almost like it was fighting back, the rain grew stronger. It grew stronger to the point that the default wiper speed failed to keep up. Cade clicked the speed up a notch. Not enough. Two notches, getting there. Three notches - as high as it would go - and they were hardly keeping the windows clear, though they offered just enough downtime to see through. Not that there was much to see beyond the whirling gray abyss of storm clouds.

Cade reached across his seat, grabbed the seat belt, and clicked it into place. His ship rattled and creaked, its computer systems beeping and crying in distress. The control stick was jolting around, necessitating Cade wrap his other paw around it. Yet even the strength of both his arms wasn’t enough to keep the ship under control. A particularly close arc of lightning sent his ship careening to the side. Cade yelped, the seatbelt barely managing to keep the fox from being flung across the cockpit. It was more than enough to break his grip on the control stick, though.

The ship was sent into a spiral. Even a hearty set of internal gravity generators couldn’t save Cade from growing dizzy. He struggled to reach out with his body being wretched in circles over and over. His eyes put up a fight to stay open, the contents of his skull feeling more akin to a stew than a solid brain. And - as if matters couldn’t get any worse - the clouds began to thin…

Cade’s mind struggled to register the fact that he had broken the cloud layer. A spinning mass of gray had been replaced with a spinning mass of green. His head was caving in, a pounding headache giving way to his eyes shutting. One last desperate bid to grab the stick, one last strained reach of an arm, one last chance…

Synthetic leather, in his paw. A rejuvenating burst of energy pulsed through the fox. Through a scrambled mind he managed to wrangle the stick back into some semblance of control. Enough to thrust his other paw onto it. What little strength he had left was invested right into yanking the stick into place, opposing the terminal roll his ship had been sent into.

Spinning colors of the planet’s surface slowed. Hazy green and obscured blots of dark brown. Cade yanked harder, hard enough to have instilled fear of breaking the steering system in any other situation. The death spin began to slow. Cade’s eyes managed to pry themselves open and the pure adrenaline pumping through his veins gave him the final sliver of energy required to bring the ship out of its spin. Relief poured into Cade’s clouded mind.

And relief was blown away nigh instantaneously. Saving himself from the spin hadn’t changed a thing about the fact that Cade was hurtling towards the surface at a speed so high that the dials of his gauge cluster went beyond their highest numbers. The surface was close. Too close, so much closer than it should’ve been. With the same hold that managed to save himself from the spin, Cade tugged the stick back towards him hard enough to slam it into his chest.

There was a near-deafening screech. Both the ship’s engines and frame screamed in protest to the sudden motion. Cade clenched his sharp teeth. A metallic tearing sounded off somewhere from the rear of his ship. His foot came slamming down onto a pedal and he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Mere moments to spare, the ship managed to straighten itself out. The whole thing rattled as its bottom side clipped a rusty smokestack. Cade almost fell out of his seat again. Industrial structures flew by in a blur around him. Whatever was left of the ship’s momentum had been sent to hurtling it forward instead. It grazed between smokestacks and long catwalks, missing some by mere inches.

Adrenaline flowing like water through his veins, Cade’s sweat-laden hands struggled to keep hold as he weaved between metal structures. With his attention darting from side to side, he hardly managed to notice the wall of piping he was hurtling towards. But when he did, he screamed out a curse and instead directed his arms to pulling back up once more.

A metal plate flung off the ship and slammed into the wall of pipes as Cade managed to pull the ship up into clear sky. Or, as Cade would come to realize as he collapsed back in his seat, an especially cloudy sky.

Stretching for miles in front of him was a vast expanse of metal and haze. The air was thick, tainted sickly green. Rain poured down and ran through the fog as if carrying it down to the surface - where it coagulated into a thicker mist. Old factories expanded into a horizon rendered near by fog, a complex dwarfing all else in scale. Cade’s weary eyes danced across it all. Not a single smokestack seemed to be in operation - some had even broken and collapsed. Everything was packed so dense as to disallow any comfortable ship landings.

Ring-ring. A screen off to the side lit up. CALL FROM: MR. B. Cade groaned and hit the accept call button.

“Our contact saw that pathetic entry of yours, Cade. You’re making an awful first impression.”

“As if they could’ve done any better,” Cade grumbled. 

“You’ll be meeting them at clearing J-11,” Mr. B chugged on without skipping a beat. “It’s taken you long enough to arrive already. Get there quick, lest you taint the reputation of this organization even further. And clean yourself up, you look and sound like a mess.”

“Because our reputation is spotless as is.”

“Maybe it would be without inconsiderate units such as you.”

“Ouch, that burns,” Cade sneered. “Get your ass out here and enter an unregulated atmosphere through a pollution storm. Shouldn’t be a problem for a bird brain like you, yeah?”

“My job here-”

“Is to get me my money after I get this done for you.”

The hang up button received a hearty press. Bzt. Cade glanced around the area. From the edge of the fog, an abrupt cutoff in all the industry revealed itself. A big red sign jutted out from it, J-11. He directed his ship towards it.

It expanded down several stories. Down and down it went until terminating in a lengthy parking lot. Almost all of its spots went unfilled, minus the select few which held the corpses of long abandoned cars at rest. Coffins lined with faded white paint.

In the furthest corner stood out one vehicle in particular. A ship in pristine condition. Comparatively pristine, at the very least. Its design was sharp and bulky. A fighter. Wing-mounted cannons larger than a person and paint bearing its fair share of scorches and chips. There was a figure standing outside of it, doing some kind of work made unrecognizable by distance.

Cade reached to the side of his cockpit and flipped a lever down. With some loud cracks of opposition, the ship’s engines rotated to face upwards. “Hover mode engaged, landing gear deployed” was printed on the center console. A press of the left pedal ensued and the ship began to lower as Cade maneuvered it to hover a few spaces away from the fighter. He depressed the pedal with as much ease as he could, but then the ship’s engines sputtered a few feet from the ground.

The ship jolted and hit the ground. One of the legs of its landing gear failed to deploy. Cade grunted and stumbled out of the cockpit, his legs taking their precious time growing steady once more. He ran a double check over himself as he entered the main room. Gun, check. Ammo, check. Armor, check. Bag… Unchecked. Cade took a small detour across the living room, over to the holo-TV. His backpack wasn’t in the space he left it, instead having been tossed into the nearest corner.

He stepped over and kneeled in front of it. Inside was an array of little devices, gadgets and rations that he shuffled through. Though their arrangement had been scattered, none of them had broken. Cade breathed a sigh of relief, shut the bag and slung it over his back. But as he stood, a sudden flash of panic lit upon his face. He turned to the wall compartment and its door, flush with the surface around it. A step was taken towards it when-

Clang-clang!

Knocking on the ship’s cargo bay door. Cade looked back at the compartment only for the knocking to sound off again. Clang-clang-clang! Even harder that time. He bit his lip, cursed under his breath and took off towards the cargo door. An empty noodle cup caught itself under his foot and put him into a stumble, one he only stopped by reaching out and catching himself on the wall. One of his paws had hit a panel next to the cargo door, causing it to begin lowering.

A rush of noxious air came flooding in. Its presence spurred a cough out of the vulpine the instant it came in contact with his windpipe. His lungs were made ten times heavier in the blink of an eye. He fell forward against the wall and propped himself up with an arm. Tears welled up in his eyes. There was a knock on the outside of his door that only barely registered to his ears.

“You’re late.” A gruff voice, clouded behind a digital filter. “Didn’t even listen to the arrival broadcast, did you?”

Cade looked up through tear-filled eyes and bore witness to a tall, human man. Face concealed behind a bulky gas mask and body clad in heavy metal armor, he was near double the size of the small fox. Another gas mask hung from one of the man’s hands. It wasn’t as bulky, seemingly a standard model lacking in any advanced additions.

“Boss didn’t-” Cade tried to speak, but was wracked by another coughing fit. “...Didn’t warn me about this air, fuck!”

“Your eyes should’ve.” The man tossed the mask over to Cade, who fumbled and nearly dropped it. “Call me Steel.”

With shaky hands, Cade shoved the mask over his face. A deep breath through its filters allowed a wave of relief to wash over his lungs. The mask was loose on his face, though a seal around its edges adhered to his fur. Fresh air gave Cade the energy needed to regain his posture and step out from his ship. Rain pelted against the top of his hood as he did so.

“One hell of a name,” the fox said. “Real subtle.”

“Codename, smartass. What’s yours?”

“Cade. Something that sticks to the whole ‘normalcy’ shtick. Not tryin’ too hard to sound all tough-”

“Shut it.”

“Pfft. Struck a nerve there, huh? Noted.”

Steel gave nothing more than a growl before facing himself towards the open space beyond the lot. A train station stood a short distance away. Holes in its walls revealed that a passenger train - though rusted - remained idle within. Perpendicular to the tracks stretched a vast expanse of what used to be roadway, now reduced to mere fractured chunks of color-bleached concrete.

Alongside the road was a whole forest of dead trees, their colors muted to a similar degree. A good lot of them had been felled. Those that remained standing were either stripped bare or covered with dead branches like veins that clawed towards the sky. Deeper and deeper into the fog the road winded, the only sense of termination provided by a large structure obscured in fog. 

“Ship’s out there,” Steel said. “According to my trackers.”

Cade nodded. “And is there any particular reason we had to land all the way out here, or was it just to get your steps in for the day?”

“Locals.”

“People live on this shithole?”

Steel let out a sigh. “The fuck did I just say?”

“It was a rhetorical question. Hell, you really are what it says on the tin.”

“That being..?”

“Dense.”

Though the lenses of his mask were tinted to the point of acting as shiny black walls, Steel’s glare burnt a hole into Cade. The fox opted to laugh it off. Steel, though unamused, directed the fox to follow him. Cade bent over to grab the door of his ship and slid it shut. It hissed as it sealed itself.

The duo set out on their way down the road. Steel drew a weapon from his back, a lever action laser rifle. Cade’s eager eyes affixed right onto it and he fell a pace or two behind. Slick black metal ending in sharp corners, its form invaded with duct tape and bundles of wires. An ejection port and feeding tube were present, though the latter had a charge package taped and welded into it. A rack holding three extra charge packs had been affixed to the side of the weapon.

Cade glanced down at the handgun on his hip and grumbled to himself. Instead of letting his eyes lock onto the other weapon once more, he forced himself to take a gander at the scenery. What little of it there was, at the very least…

Every now and then a road would splinter off and venture off into parts unknown. Or there’d be a road sign, or a billboard. Cade gave the billboards particular attention. Most had been worn by the elements to the point of illegibility. There were a select few that managed to stay just barely on the cusp of being comprehensible, though.

NixCo Cybernetically Enhanced Lungs!

Breathe better, live better with NixCo!

Ask about your local installation clinic today!

Bright colors - though dimmed by the elements - and a peppy cartoon human taking a nice, deep breath of air drawn so fresh Cade could almost feel it in his lungs. The pulsing inhales and exhales of the fox’s gas mask grounded him right back into reality, out of the ad’s own imitation of it. The reality where even reading the ad’s fine print was somewhat difficult from the noxious fog in the air. A shiver tickled his spine…

Miles dragged by. Steps faded into each other and became a blur of forward movement into swirling clouds of death. Steel hadn’t a word to say, and Cade’s head was still throbbing just enough to dismantle the idea of casual conversation. All their ears had was the booming of thunder overhead and the steady drone of rainfall. Their boots splashed in cloudy puddles of water. The monotony of it all kept Cade’s mind just as fogged as the planet he had found himself on.

“Snap out of it,” Steel barked, his voice shattering the glass of Cade’s focus like a hammer. “We’re just about there.”

The fox blinked and shook himself awake again. His paw pads were sore and his mouth yearned for a drink from within the confines of his mask. But one sign of tangible progress crammed itself into the forefront of his mind, pushing all else aside in the process.

Great walls of scrap metal. They were fashioned around something, but were tall enough to obscure vision inside. Light emanated from behind them and peeked through unsealed holes in the aged metal. Dotted along the walls were a handful of watchtowers. Spotlights shone down from them, swaying from side to side in rhythmic fashion. Banners had been hung atop each of the towers. They were tattered near the bottom, colored in a faded purple. Some royal-looking golden star was planted in the middle. There were stitches across each of the stars, the pattern of them uniform across every banner.

Cade stopped in his tracks. Steel kept walking a few paces forward before taking notice - at which point he too stopped. The man gave Cade an annoyed grunt. Cade grunted right back, only in an exaggerated mock fashion.

“Hold your horses, jackass,” Cade said. “How about we don’t walk right up to their front door?”

“Are you tired or something, wanna set up a picnic back here? Make the boss wait even longer for this godforsaken job to get done?” Steel bit back. “Hope you packed some sandwiches then, because I didn’t pack for a pleasant afternoon getaway.”

“No, I wanna make sure we know what we’re getting into before we go storming in.”

Steel huffed, but stayed in place. Cade shook his head and removed his backpack, placing it on the ground in front of him. He rummaged through it for a moment and took a pair of binoculars out. They were a bit awkward to press against his mask and didn’t provide the best view of things, but he made it work just enough to observe the towers ahead.

Within each tower was an armed individual. All of them carried aged bolt-action rifles. Too old to be laser weapons, Cade reasoned. Scrap metal armor adorned their bodies, painted a knightly shade of silver. They weren’t operating the spotlights, those moved on their own. Cade trailed the binoculars downward with the beam of one, down to the base of the walls. The main entrance was hard to miss. A large set of double doors. About as ornate as scrap possibly could be. Guards stood post outside it, armed with… swords?

Cade removed the binoculars from his eyes. “Lots of guards.”

“Lots? Let me be the judge of that.” Steel snatched the binoculars from Cade’s paw and began examining the place. “Hmphf, odd choice of weapons this lot uses.”

“Old ones, doesn’t seem like they get out much.”

Steel held the binoculars down, but didn’t gesture them out towards Cade. The fox took it upon himself to swipe the pair back for himself, tucking them in his bag right away. Steel responded by drawing his rifle and aiming it towards a tower.

“I’ll take out the guys in the towers, you move in and-”

“That’s stupid,” Cade interrupted. “Are you stupid? Shoot one of ‘em and the rest can trail that laser back here and shoot us both, bonehead.”

“Not if we take them out fast enough.”

“Okay, yeah. You’re stupid.” Cade sighed. “How about this; you stay here and cover me. Just - get behind a tree or something. I’ll head in and talk to those guys at the gate, see what’s goin’ on. And then, if they shoot me, you can do all the blasting your little heart desires, yeah?”

Steel groaned. “Gotta make a problem out of everything… Fine. But let it be known I’m not risking myself to save you if you get in over your head, fox.”

“Trust me, big guy,” Cade teased. “I got this~”

[Stay tuned for Chapter 2, hopefully coming within the next few weeks. Feedback is welcome & encouraged, this is my first time ever posting an original story I've written :3]

[stop-pressing-e]

Home Sweet Haven - Part 1

/Finally decided to post this story I've written nearly a year ago and made edits to update some parts recently. This story will be split into three parts.

Enjoy reading!/

Mentions of: Breaking and entering being the main plot, suggestive aftermath

First week

Dullahan was a woman of many secrets and she doesn’t reveal them so easily to anyone. Not even to the man that was once a thorn on her side to becoming an acquaintance. He would soon be a partner in crime when fate would bring them together for missions into something a bit more when it involved motel rooms and diner dates. Regardless of anyone’s relationship with the hitman, no one knows anything about her, from her hobbies to what her favourite colour is. All they have is her personality they could describe about her and what she is to them. 

However, Jack Krauser knew some things people would love to use against her and especially for the fact that he had seen her face during their interactions in their second year. He was given her actual name since Dullahan can be such a mouthful and he rather uses pet names on her as she does with him using ‘Jackie’. Bit by bit he would learn more information about her with his own investigations until he got what he needed.

Her home address.

From afar in his rental, he watched Dullahan, or better known as Trish Odile, leaving her complex for her civilian job as a waitress at a local restaurant and bar via a motorcycle. A Benelli bike. It was a nice model she had there but it was not for him. He focused on what floor she was on from the glass window displaying the elevator, and how to exactly get upstairs as he soon learnt that she uses a keycard and a passcode to enter the building. The only option was the fire escape located inside the compound. It was an easy jump over the fence and he easily avoided the cameras while he managed to pick the lock of the grilled door to enter inside the fire escape and made his way up the top floor Dullahan is located itself.

The glass door was easily unlocked with his knife wedged between the locks and he was inside. Dullahan’s place was an industrial loft with its high ceiling, the tall glass windows, to the open second floor that is basically the whole bedroom itself led up by a spiral staircase. The kitchen was underneath the bedroom floor and the space was big enough to have the kitchen island across the stoves act as a dining table too, allowing more space for the living room. A large couch faced a large screen television mounted on the wall, a nice small rectangular table decorated with only a potted plant that looked to be orchids, to his best guess, and a red plush wingback chair on the left side of the couch and facing towards the glass doors, probably to enjoy the view of the outside at a distance.

Three bookcases lined against each other by a door that led him to a storage room and upon pressing the second switch thinking it was the lights, the wall at the end pulled away revealing a hidden room behind it. He found her weapons hung on the wall along with her equipment, and the sight of a mannequin wearing the infamous blue jacket, the right arm holding the pants, what was left of the left arm was replaced by the familiar black metallic sheen of her robotic arm, and the head wearing the helmet. A training dummy is located across the storage room and it went through quite a lot from the looks of it and from the amount of stitches she must have sewn to repair it looked to be done by a really sharp knife.

Krauser inspected the rest of the area near the glass door he came from and the kitchen and he saw that it was a little art studio. One easel was tucked away and the other one was standing with a canvas left unfinished of a still life of a vase of slowly dying flowers, a few books stacked on top of each other with the spine facing the person, and a half empty amber glass bottle. Against the wall were drawers and tables containing art supplies of paints of various mediums, colour pencils, palettes, palette knives, brushes, sketchbooks, and more he doesn’t have time to inspect. There were also canvases full of paintings leaning against the wall which were still lifes, landscapes, and some were portraits of people he wasn’t familiar with, possibly strangers she had encountered in her passing.

The lower floor was done and he made his way upstairs to the bedroom area. He was greeted with a king size bed, all for one person yet he found it perfect should he need to rest, a bedside table on the right side of the bed with a table lamp and a book on top of it. Upon closer inspection, he caught sight of a knife holster strapped to the front leg of the table and a gun holster strapped at the back, possibly for an easy grab for her to strike an attack if anyone broke into her home such as what he’s doing currently. He smirked from seeing it. Despite being safe in her own home, she was still well prepared. Smart girl, he thought as he moved away to briefly inspect her wardrobe, her vanity table and the full length mirror right against the wall before he moved on for the bathroom. 

It has both a bathtub and a shower with a glass door large enough for him to enter and the tub was big enough for him to sit in it, but he won’t be using it anytime soon. It’ll leave too much evidence. Krauser briefly inspected himself in the bathroom mirror, seeing the dark circles under his eyes, his pale skin, and the stubble that was slowly growing out. He hasn’t gotten a chance to rest properly let alone have a proper meal in quite a while. He doesn’t exactly have a home for himself since he sold his apartment and his safe house was in another country he hardly goes to anymore. If he’s lucky since learning of Dullahan’s home, he hopes she doesn’t mind him crashing her place whenever she’s not around for the time being.

Her office table was the last to be inspected after leaving the bathroom. “Of course you have a password.” He grumbled to himself upon opening her laptop before closing it and searched through her drawers where he discovered a single sheet of paper containing coordinates that looked important to be written down by her. He copied them down on a fresh sheet of paper he found in another drawer and tucked it away in his pocket. Another accidental discovery he stumbled upon was another hidden compartment underneath the coordinates he had copied from containing a file detailing her next mission. A smirk crept on his lips. It seems she’ll be leaving tomorrow and she’ll be away for at least five days by most. 

Perfect.

There was nothing left to investigate in her home other than taking a few things from her fridge and a bottle of water and it was time to leave. He found what was important and he’ll use it to his advantage when she’s away. 

He left it for day one so he won’t accidentally break in while she’s packing her gear to leave for her mission. It was only on day two he repeated how he snuck in with ease and let out a long heavy sigh of relief as soon he entered the empty loft. He dropped his large duffel bag containing his clothes and all of his necessities on the floor, a couple of plastic bags containing the food he purchased for himself to cook with her kitchenware on the kitchen island, and made his way to the couch to rest. It was plush but he didn't care. He got a place to rest and regain his strength. It’ll be his own little secret and he’ll make sure she never knows that someone like him was using her place to crash for the time being. 

Once he was well rested after a few good hours, he went straight upstairs to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Krauser instantly melted by the hot water running down his body, soothing away the tense muscles and aches he had on him, and washing away the smell and grime off him. The smell of her body wash and her shampoo was a bit too strong for him and too scented for his type. Thank god he brought his own products. It did however make him curious how it smelled like on her. None of the scents he smelled on her during their ‘close interactions’ were nowhere close to what she has in her bathroom. It’s a shame he admitted since he can be quite a curious man needing the answers straight away.

The shower was done and Krauser proceeded to shave his five o’clock off with his knife. It was quite sharp that he didn't need to use a razor at all. His knife can get the job done easily without a hassle. 

Sleep was what he wanted again but he was craving to get a proper meal in his stomach after being on the road for quite some time, living off on rations and granola bars until he found a mom and pop diner or a bar that made a decent good meal. The place Trish works at was made as a mental note to visit and eat there again. Only when she’s not there or maybe when he chooses to surprise her by his presence as usual. As of now, cooking his food was his main priority. 

Three months

Krauser doesn’t often sneak into her loft and when he does, he always made sure nothing of his was left behind, the place was deep cleaned free of his prints, he thrown out his own trash into a garbage bag rather than the trash can and dispose of it at the dumpster the next block over, wiped his fingerprints away on anything he touched and used, and anything in her name was not out of place or excessively used to indicate his usage on her stuff. 

Yet somehow Dullahan knew someone had been sneaking into her home. She told him that when they ended their mission in Krauser’s motel room. He saw that distant look on her face illuminated by the large neon sign outside his window, the way her eyebrows furrowed together, her cigarette hanging from her two fingertips, and that annoying knee bouncing she does when she’s agitated on the worn out pleather chair. 

“Why the hell are you telling me this?” He let out a grunt while he rubbed his sore neck from all the hair grabbing she did to make him look up at her face while she was riding him. He was actually glad she told him now that he’ll collect more information to be prepared for next time or lay low at one of her safe houses from the coordinates he wrote down. She has quite a lot in a number of countries and he wasn’t complaining, only the lack of specific necessities but it was simply a pet peeve. 

Dullahan took a drag of her cigarette, thinking on what to say, and blew out two smoke rings. Impressive. She gave him her answer after putting it out. “I know you’re quite an expert in traps and alarms so I’m asking as a favour for some of your devices.” It easily caught his full attention with a raised scarred eyebrow and long exhale releasing a stream of smoke. He leaned against the headboard, crossing his muscular arms against his chest and soon let out a deep chuckle.

“What’s in it for me?”

“It depends on what you want from me in return.” She was starting to dress herself all while keeping her pain subdue at her hips area. Damn him for grabbing them so hard his thumbs left bruises on them but damn does he fucked her so good. She swore could still feel his lingering touches on her skin and those sharp canines when he was marking her on her right shoulder. He always made her melt like a puddle with brute force and she always enjoyed it without admitting it to his face. “If you need me to collect any information for you? Fine. Return the same favour with my own devices? Sure. Name your price.”

Krauser let her words simmer in his head, a smirk almost gracing on his lips Dullahan quickly figured out what he could be thinking. “I need to know if you’re allowing me. If you say no then the offer is off the table. Got it?” “That sounds tempting, dollface.” He let out another chuckle as he leaned onto his knees propped up, cocking his head slightly in her direction as she finished dressing herself but not in that blue jacket and her helmet. Both of them were packed away in her bag and they were replaced with a black leather jacket and biker’s helmet. “I’ll think about it.”

“You have until tomorrow evening to tell me or else you’ll get nothing from me.” She straightened back her shoulders, almost wincing when the fresh bite mark brushed against the fabric of her jacket, forced to exhale softly through her teeth and catching his smirk grew a bit wider revealing part of those sharp canines. As she half frowned from the sight of that damn smirk, it sent a shiver down her spine. No matter what, it always got her. “Goodnight, Major.” She made her way for the exit, her helmet tucked under her right arm and her bag slung over her left shoulder. As soon the sound of his door was closed shut, he let out a heavy sigh to himself, leaning back against the headboard again, tapping the ashes out while smoothing his hair back. 

It had put him in a bit of a dilemma if he chose to allow it to happen and yet it was his own device he created. Surely he will bypass it and note down where she would place them the next time he sneaks back into her loft. However, that is the problem. Two problems whether he accepts or rejects it. Accepting it, she’ll probably rework his traps and that’ll put him in a predicament. Rejecting it, she’ll find either someone else or make her own alarm system. That woman continues to be unpredictable and he was still impressed by it while there’s that lingering annoyance at the back of his head. 

He set up their meeting at the diner across the motel. By the time Dullahan arrived Krauser was already finishing his second plate and requested his third refill of coffee. She ordered herself a strawberry milkshake and curly fries. He had to witness her dipping the said fries into her milkshake and eating them like it was a normal combination. 

The hitman saw his irked expression and she gave him one of her teasing smiles towards him. “It’s good if you try it, Jackie.” “I’ll pass.” He grunted and then brought a small black briefcase onto the table and slid it across her. “Here. I did some quick modifications to it and whoever your intruder is will get a little something without needing to lift those pesky nimble fingers of yours.” Krauser casually leaned back against the booth while Dullahan inspected the traps and alarms with great curiosity. He picked up the remote from the case. “Once you install them, it’ll automatically connect to this once you press this button.” He tapped the green button with his middle finger. “Keep it on you at times, there’s no replacement so good luck getting back inside if you lose it.”

“This is quite kind of you to lend me your traps, Krauser.” Dullahan told him once she put the stuff back inside the briefcase and closed it, bringing it onto her side. “I’ll return it back to you when I have my own alarm system set up.” The milkshake was pushed away so her elbows can rest on the table. “Now for the favour.” She was immediately silent by the raise of his gloved hand.

“Save it. I don’t have anything to ask from you,” he told her, taking note of her expression by his rejection. The way her eyebrows knitted together and her lips pulled into a fine thin line if he was pulling her leg, literally. “Not yet that is. I’ll hold onto the offer until the time comes.” His promise wasn’t enough to satisfy her questions that were currently swimming in her head as she continued to stare straight at him. He casually shrugged his shoulders. “Take it or else I take it back.”

Her hand automatically went over the briefcase. “I’ll take it still.” She stuffed her hand into her pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill onto the table, paying for both her order and Krauser’s while tipping their server handsomely at the same time. “Thank you really, Jack.” It was very rare to hear his first name being spoken and the majority addressed him as either Krauser or Major, nothing more and nothing less. But not her. She calls him with only one particular nickname to either tease the man or annoy him for specific reasons as he does to her in return. At times she will address him correctly and very rarely she calls him Jack unless she was serious or sincere about it.

And she was sincere by what he has done for her.

His hand made a sweeping motion for her to leave. “Just go, Trish.” Simply by saying her actual name in return was his small sign of respect towards her. “And be careful with it.” “I will.” She assured him as she collected her stuff. “Thank you again. Goodbye for now.” 

The mercenary grunted his goodbye right as she left the diner and waiting to see her drive off, he patted the side pockets of his cargo pants to make sure he had given her the right remote which is actually a copy of the original that is in his possession right now. She will have her loft protected when she’s at work but when she’s away, he will still use her place and he can easily deactivate the alarm system from outside the door with the push of the button. He also installed a tracking ware in the devices so he can know where she would set them up. There’s three devices and he’s certain two of them will be installed by both doors and it’s only the third one he will need to check where she’ll place it when he’s there eventually for next time.

[gemtvusa]

Sony A95L vs LG G3: A Battle of Premium 4K TVs - Review, Specs, Price, Release Date

Sony A95L vs. LG G3 2023: Review, Specs, Price, Release Date In the realm of high-end 4K televisions for 2023, the Sony A95L QD-OLED and LG G3 OLED are making waves. Tailored for cinematic aficionados and next-gen gamers, these panels are optimized for an unparalleled viewing experience with consoles like the PS5 and Xbox Series X. Leveraging the prowess of the latest OLED technology, both models deliver brighter visuals than their 2022 counterparts. Distinguishing Features While both these premium TVs ride high on the OLED wave, their approach to harnessing and augmenting brightness varies. The technology behind them isn't just about blacks that are deeper and colors that pop; it's also about ensuring a luminescence that can compete with, or even surpass, other top-tier television models.

Which (TV Sony A95L vs LG G3) is Right for You?

If you're contemplating splurging on one of these tech marvels, it's crucial to delve deeper into their individual characteristics, performance metrics, and user reviews. The 'best' choice will hinge on personal preferences, brand loyalty, and specific needs. Stay tuned as we further dissect the features of these promising contenders, ensuring you make an informed decision in the battle for OLED supremacy. LG G3 OLED Overview Sony A95L QD-OLED Overview Price Points: $2,448.79 at AmazonPrice Points: $3,299.99 at AmazonSpecifications: Dimensions: Available in 55, 65, 77, and 83 inches Display Technology: OLED Evo paired with Light Control Architecture Core Processor: Alpha a9 Gen 6 Connectivity: All 4 HDMI ports support 2.1 version HDR Compatibility: Dolby Vision, HDR10, HLGSpecifications: Dimensions: Available in 55, 65, and 77 inches Display Technology: QD-OLED Core Processor: Cognitive Processor XR Connectivity: 4 HDMI ports (Including 2 HDMI 2.1) HDR Support: Dolby Vision, HDR10, HLGThe LG G3 OLED stands as a premium offering in LG's 2023 TV arsenal. With its advanced Light Control Architecture, it’s setting new brightness benchmarks for the brand, leaving its predecessors far behind. Aesthetically, the G3 boasts a minimalist and ultra-thin profile, accentuated by a slender bezel. Designed primarily for wall-mounting, it comes without a stand, which can be an additional expense for those wanting a table placement.Diving into 2023, Sony introduces its cutting-edge A95L QD-OLED, showcasing remarkable brightness improvements over the preceding A95K model, all thanks to its innovative panel technology. With a suite of enhanced features tailored for gamers and advancements in picture processing, the A95L emerges as one of the most anticipated and luminous OLED TV contenders of the year. However, potential buyers might need to exhibit some patience as this masterpiece is slated for a release in the latter half of 2023.Pros: Significant enhancement in brightness levels Fully equipped with 4 HDMI 2.1 ports Screen design reduces reflections Sleek and elegant appearancePros: Exceptionally bright QD-OLED display Vivid and unparalleled color reproduction Innovative Sony Acoustic Surface audio technology Optimized for an immersive PS5 gaming experienceCons: Priced on the higher side Stand not included, requiring separate purchase The built-in audio might not meet the expectations of audiophiles.Cons: Comes with a premium price tag Limited to only 2 HDMI 2.1 ports Availability postponed to late 2023.

Comparing the Sony A95L and LG G3 OLED

In the sections that follow, we delve into a comprehensive comparison of the Sony A95L and LG G3 OLED, covering aspects like pricing, screen dimensions, design nuances, and distinctive features. To gain more insights about these models, you might want to take a peek at our preliminary Sony A95L review and our initial impressions of the LG G3 OLED. While they aren't exhaustive reviews, they encapsulate our observations and findings till now. As for the Sony A95L's price tag, Sony remains tight-lipped. Last year, its predecessor, the A95K, earned the title for unparalleled picture quality, albeit with a heftier price than its OLED counterparts. However, Sony has hinted at a possible price revelation that might pleasantly surprise enthusiasts. But given the TV's launch timeline set for later this year, the exact figure remains under wraps for now.

Sony A95L vs. LG G3 OLED: At a Glance

Both Sony A95L and LG G3 OLED are prominent players in the OLED TV market, with their fair share of admirers. They each promise exemplary visuals courtesy of OLED technology, yet shine in unique ways, catering to varied preferences. The Sony A95L, in particular, is a testament to Sony's prowess in image processing, an area the brand is renowned for. Sony A95L vs. LG G3: Features Breakdown FeatureSony A95LLG G3DisplayOLED with exceptional color accuracyIPS LCD with commendable color accuracyResolution4K standardQuad HD (2560 x 1440 pixels)CameraTop-tier camera with enhanced capabilitiesReliable camera with laser autofocusOperating SystemAndroidAndroidProcessorRobust processor ensuring fluid operationsSturdy processor ensuring seamless performanceMemoryGenerous RAM and storage variantsAbundant RAM and storage optionsBatterySatisfactory battery longevityDetachable battery with consistent performanceDesignLuxurious and refined designStreamlined design featuring rear-positioned controlsAdditional FeaturesSupport for HDR, smart TV functionalitiesUnique rear-positioned power and volume buttons This table offers a concise comparison between the Sony A95L and LG G3 across various critical features. Each model has its unique strengths, catering to different user preferences.

2023 LG OLED TV Prices for the US and Estimated International Pricing

SizeLG G3 Price (US)55-inch$2,49965-inch$3,29977-inch$4,49983-inch$6,499 For international markets, the 55-inch LG G3 model is anticipated to be priced at approximately £2,500 in the UK and AU$4,500 in Australia. As for Sony's A95L, the company remains somewhat elusive regarding its pricing details. Historically, its predecessor, the Sony A95K, stood out in 2022 for delivering unmatched image quality. However, this excellence came with a steeper price tag compared to other OLED counterparts. Sony's hints suggest that consumers might find the pricing of its upcoming TVs more appealing, yet with the release set for later this year, the exact figures remain uncertain. Given historical pricing trends, our projections for the Sony A95L, based on the A95K's launch prices, are as follows (keeping in mind that the 77-inch prediction is omitted due to its absence in the previous lineup): - 55-inch: $3,000, expected to be around £2,699 in the UK and approximately AU$4,499 in Australia. - 65-inch: $4,000, estimated to be around £3,699 in the UK and about AU$5,999 in Australia. Sony A95L 4K BUY AMAZON.COM USAUS MODEL55″ $3,299.99Buy NowXR-65A95L65″ $3,998.99Buy NowXR-65A95L77″ $6,199.99Buy NowXR-65A95L LG G3 OLED evo 4K BUY AMAZON.COM USABUY AMAZON.DE(EUROPE)US MODEL55″ $2,096.99Buy NowBuy NowOLED43C3PUA65″ $2,796.99Buy NowBuy NowOLED48C3PUA77″ $4,196.99Buy NowBuy NowOLED55C3PUA83″ $5,796.99Buy NowBuy NowOLED65C3PUA

Sony A95L vs. LG G3: A Deep Dive into Design and Display

In terms of aesthetics and display technology, the Sony A95L and LG G3 present a stark contrast. The Sony A95L epitomizes sophistication. Its design exudes luxury, characterized by a slender frame and minimal bezels. This sleek appearance does more than just turn heads; it seamlessly blends into contemporary living spaces, offering a touch of elegance. On the flip side, the LG G3, while also sleek, is pragmatically designed. Its unique design feature includes rear-positioned power and volume buttons, which not only add a touch of novelty but also optimize usability by placing controls within easy reach. Shifting focus to display technology, the Sony A95L boasts an OLED screen renowned for its vibrancy and precision. With the ability to produce profound blacks and stellar contrast ratios, coupled with expansive viewing angles, it offers viewers an immersive, lifelike visual experience. Comparatively, the LG G3 employs an IPS LCD screen, a technology praised for its color accuracy and broad viewing angles. While it might not match the contrast levels inherent to OLED displays, it compensates by delivering crisp, radiant visuals that don't disappoint.

Sony A95L vs. LG G3: Camera Performance Examined

Diving into camera capabilities, the Sony A95L and LG G3 showcase distinct strengths. The Sony A95L is widely recognized for its superior camera setup. Equipped with a high-resolution sensor, it boasts cutting-edge image processing technology, a myriad of shooting modes, and customizable settings. This ensures that the A95L captures images that resonate with clarity, vibrancy, and true-to-life colors. Additionally, features such as optical image stabilization (OIS) or electronic image stabilization (EIS) further refine its capability, minimizing camera shake and delivering crisper shots, especially in low-light scenarios. Conversely, the LG G3, while perhaps not as feature-packed as the A95L, still holds its ground in the photography realm. Its standout feature is the laser autofocus system, enhancing the speed and precision of its focusing mechanism. This results in sharper, more defined images. While the G3 might not boast the extensive range of advanced features found in the A95L, it consistently delivers commendable photos, particularly when lighting conditions are optimal. Which One You should buy? The Sony A95L stands out as a premium camera, celebrated for delivering outstanding imagery. Its state-of-the-art features and cutting-edge lens technology make it an obvious pick for serious photographers. Conversely, the LG G3, while primarily a smartphone, impresses with its distinctive aesthetics and commendable camera. The A95L undoubtedly has the edge for those prioritizing superior photography and don’t mind carrying a dedicated device. However, if the allure lies in a feature-rich smartphone with a decent camera, the LG G3 ticks the boxes. Sony A95L vs. LG G3: The Verdict The Sony A95L QD-OLED and LG G3 OLED are gearing up to be top contenders in the 2023 4K TV arena. Both, with their groundbreaking brightness enhancement technologies, promise breathtaking contrast levels and vivid color profiles. Combine this with the profound blacks traditionally associated with OLED, and both TVs emerge as compelling choices for film enthusiasts. Should Sony price the A95L competitively, it's poised to challenge the LG G3, especially considering the G3's price uptick from its predecessor. In terms of gaming attributes, they appear fairly matched. However, the Sony A95L does offer a more versatile design right out of the box. Though a definitive judgment awaits our in-depth review of both models, it’s evident that these TV experiences will be nothing short of spectacular. Frequently Asked Questions - Is Sony's quality superior to LG's? - Both Sony and LG excel in producing OLED and LED displays. While LG typically leads in the OLED domain due to its gaming-friendly features and competitive pricing, Sony's LED versions tend to outshine LG’s, offering brighter and more consistent visuals with enhanced contrast. - Is Sony Bravia better than LG? - Both giants employ comparable technologies. LG might have a slight advantage with its QNED and high-end offerings for those who spare no expense. However, Sony’s extensive model lineup ensures the competition remains neck-and-neck. Read the full article

[ventura-international]

Look at the A Variety of and Creative Techniques for Interior Wall Panelling

For both commercial and residential establishments, laminate wall panels are a cutting-edge, low-maintenance, and visually pleasing wall surfacing option. . Laminates have become a well-liked and dependable wall paneling option thanks to attributes including ease of pricing and great performance. In India for high pressure compact Wall Laminates, you can find a variety of laminate wall cladding solutions for both Indoor Wall Panels and outdoor wall cladding.

A type of manufactured wood called a laminate panel is created from thin sheets of substrates or wood veneer. It is comparable to the more popular plywood, but contains a protective plastic layer on one or both sides.

Ideas for Wall Panelling that Every Modern and Trendy Room Needs

Contemporary Living Room Panels

Living spaces can become cozier and more inviting by adding Laminate Wall Panels. A black and gold accent wall may offer just the right amount of grace and elegance, making even the most basic space appear classy. If you only want to use one hue, black might go nicely with a variety of creative ideas, from scandi to boho.

Gorgeous and Stunning Ceilings

Use Charcoal Fluted Panels and 3D wall tile laminates on the surfaces of the ceilings if you prefer modern walls and want to subtly improve the beauty of your home. Charcoal Fluted Panels are decorative panels used in high-end residential and commercial designs. 3D walls tiles can be used in place of wallpaper, stone, wood, cloth, fashion, and artwork. You may now quickly transform your own artwork, such as paintings, calligraphy, and artistic characters, into concave and convex tiles with a little customization and the availability of many traditional ones.

Improve your dining areas

Dining rooms are one place where wall paneling works very well because of how cozy and sociable it feels. To create a minimalist and peaceful appearance, you may also paint the walls in delicate hues like baby pink or lavender. It appears to be a periodic drama to add some elaborate showpieces to the dining room or to maintain them in the center of the table.

Adding styles by using decorative Laminate Wall Panels

Laminates with decorative designs are durable and attractive. Among the most coveted qualities of laminate sheets are their ability to withstand water and scratches. You can choose from a wide variety of laminated door styles that are ideal for your house or place of business. They will unquestionably enhance the style and sophistication of any entrance. Laminates, including decorative laminates and Indoor Wall Panels, have an easy-to-clean surface and are scratch-resistant, making them perfect for installation on, among other things, cabinets, shelves for mounting televisions, countertops, and racks. 

Conclusion:

Wall Laminates adds a sophisticated and fashionable touch to your house and serves as a temporary remedy for worn-out walls. Use a light-colored laminate sheet if you believe the wall panels will make your room feel more confined and cramped. It makes the space seem more spacious. Hoping the wall paneling suggestions above will motivate you to remodel your homes. 

[not-another-parable]

She laughed at what he said-- or, rather, presumably at what he said. It seemed far too loud, and far too insidious, for a simple comment about his office's design.

"Yes, yes, of course, darling." She smiled, confirming she hadn't paid any proper attention to whatever he had said.

The grey hallway she had pulled him into was considerably dimmer than the room they had just left, and she continued pulling him along until they drew closer to the light coming from the left end of it. Before long, they had reached something resembling a living room-- a blue couch sat in front of a low coffee table holding a candle and some cookbooks, likely taken from one of the two bookshelves that were pressed against the wall on the other side of the room. A large television was mounted to the wall beside where Mary had entered, and a series of doors and more hallways were found in nearly every direction.

"Let's see...." Mary muttered to herself as she stopped and tapped a red fingernail against her chin. "Where do I want you?"

If she had known Cas would have still been aware of any of his surroundings at this point, she would have skipped making him anything and greeted him with a knife instead. If she could just get him to play along until they returned to her Office, maybe there would be a chance he could actually make anything easy for her.

"Perfect!" She grinned, immediately standing to tightly grab Cas by the wrist. She swiftly pulled his wrist to her side and darted for the door she had entered through. "Oh, I've spent so very long working on my own Office, I promise it's far more comfortable than what you've got here!"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stand Off

Sweet Treats AU Masterlist

Two egos meet.

Please let me know what you think <3

🥧🥧🥧

Bucky lets out an exaggerated sigh as he drops onto the couch. He lets his legs sprawl out before him as he grips above his knee with his metal fingers. You stand at Coco’s shoulder in the doorway, unsure what to do. The last day has been the worst of your life. 

And what comes next…

“Coco, go wait for our guest,” he calls back as he flips on the television, aiming the remote with his other hand, “Birdy, get in here.”

Coco looks at you and you shy away. You both know what happened last night and the lack of anger in her eyes is worse than anything you could imagine. She’s not mad at you, she pities you. More worryingly, she’s afraid, just like you are.

She squeezes your arm, a gesture that says, we just have to do it. She leaves and you step into the room, looking around at the space. A TV mounted on the wall, a long leather couch, a matching armchair, a pool table, and a collection of sports memorabilia. A decked out man cave if you ever saw one.

“Close the door,” Bucky says without looking back, settling on sport highlights, “come here.”

You obey and tiptoe around the couch. He pats his thigh as he smirks at you then lifts his arm to drape over the back. 

“Got a nice seat waiting for you.”

You pause and the breath goes out of you. It’s just another humiliating act. You fell for it. The flirting, the teasing, and last night in the guest room… 

You carry on and lower yourself onto his thigh. He pulls you against his torso, leaning you against the side, and bends his arm around you.

“It’s too bad Steve can’t be happy with a thing like you, doll,” he curls a finger under your chin and caresses up to your lip with his thumb, “I don’t even gotta break you in.” Your lip trembles and he presses against it, baring his teeth slightly as he gives a growl. “Wouldn’t it be something if he walked in with you sitting on my dick?”

Your eyes round and he laughs. Lifts his other hand to squeeze your shoulder and lets his amusement peter out as he turns his attention to the television. His metal fingers drop to bawl up over your skirt.

You sit in silence. With nothing else to do, you watch the screen as the week’s best moments count down. You hear weight on the stairs and the approach of footsteps muffled by the walls. There is no knock as the door swings open and you look over Bucky’s shoulder to find Steve marching in with his hand on Coco’s neck.

“You wanna play this game?” He asks as Coco writhes and whines in his grasp, “fine, let’s do it.”

“Let go–” Coco grasps at his fingers and hisses. She squeaks as he pinches tighter and she stomps his foot in response. Bucky doesn’t move.

“You can try,” Bucky snickers, “if she’ll let you. We both know she’s not like this one,” he reaches up to stroke your lips again, poking two fingers into your mouth as you murmur in surprise, “hmmm?”

He slides his fingers in and out cloyingly and your eyes blur with tears. You’re swallowed up in shame as you shake on his lap. You feel him getting hard beneath your thigh.

“Doll, why don’t you get on your knees and show him?” Bucky drags his fingers out.

“Don’t even fucking think of it,” Steve points at you as he releases Coco and she winces as she catches herself against the other end of the couch.

“Bucky,” she breathes, please–”

“Go back to the kitchen, baby, before I let him even the score.”

You blink and Steve’s jaw ticks as he peeks over at her, “you–”

“I’m fucking with you,” Bucky snaps, “get out, Coco.”

His wife stands, rubbing her neck as she sneers. She looks at you, a futile shake of her head as her eyes turn glossy.

“Or you can stay and watch,” Bucky slips his hand under you and rubs his crotch.

“I’m gonna break your fucking hand,” Steve snarls as he stomps forward. 

Coco stumbles back as Bucky stands, putting you on your feet as he moves between you and the raging captain. The other woman huffs and stomps out, “I hope you kill each other.”

“You’ll pay for that, baby,” Bucky snaps his fingers before she slams the door.

The men stare each other down as you cower behind Bucky. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and keeps you close.

“I’m ready to talk,” Bucky says, “or kick your ass.”

Steve fumes, chest heaving in anger as he looks down the inch between their glares, “she’s mine.”

“You didn’t want her before.”

“Give her back.”

“Birdy,” Bucky says, “you wanna go back?”

Your mouth falls open and you try to wet your tongue. You can’t speak, you can’t think. You know you’re supposed to say something but you just can’t. What choice is there between these men.

“Sing for me, Birdy,” Bucky pulls you forward and angles you in front of Steve. 

His eyes bore into you furiously and you can’t help but press yourself against the other man. You know what happens if you go back. You know what Steve’s waiting to do to you.

“N-no,” you stammer out and close your eyes, bracing for what comes next.

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[janicho88]

Operation: Christmas Couple -Part 4

Pairing- Jensen, x Female!Reader eventually

Word count- 6,056

Warnings- Some language, fluff, plotting friends, implied (like barely there) future smut. I think that’s all.

A/N- This is going to be a slow burn.  It’s the first time I’ve done RPF.  It’s season 7, but for the purpose of this fic some of the characters made earlier season appearances than they actually did on the show.  Thank you @deanwanddamons​ for your help with this series!  All mistakes are mine.  Square filled for @spnchristmasbingo​ Baking Cookies.

Summary- Some of the cast members of Supernatural have been watching the interaction of two close friends around each other.  Neither one will admit to there being anything more between them.  With the most magical season of the year upon them, what better time to open their eyes?  Brianna and the girls, along with some help from Jared have come up with just the way to accomplish that.  But are Jensen and the reader going to cooperate, or are they going to foil their plans?

Chapter Summary- Finally at the house, it’s time for your friends to put their plan into action.  Are both you and Jensen going to cooperate, though?  Or will his former comment ring true?

This story has its own separate taglist.  If you would like to be added, let me know!!

Series Masterlist

You turn away from Jensen after his last comment. You move your luggage over to the bench.  That is when you really take in the room that Briana sent you up to.  

This bedroom was bigger than your one back home.  There is a king size bed in the middle, with two large end tables on either side.  In the far corner is a dresser with a television on top.  A chair on either side of the room.  

Your favorite part has to be the window seat you just set your luggage on.  It was the length of four windowpanes, and plenty wide enough you could lean back against the wall to look out and not worry about falling off.

“Guys!  Come back here!”  Brianna calls from somewhere below.

“I guess we are being paged,” you tell Jensen, walking away from your just opened suitcase.  

“Sounds like it.  We better get a move on.”

He opens the bedroom door and waits for you to exit before following.  Looking over the railing along the hallway you can see your friends in what you're sure is the living room. Making your way down the stairs you look around at the house, you didn’t have much of a chance when you first arrived.

Coming down the stairs you are in the living room, somehow you missed the large fireplace in the middle when you walked by before.  The open kitchen and small dining area on the other side of the living room.  Behind you is a short staircase, you think it leads to the front door you saw outside.  Walking toward an empty spot on the couch you think you can see another dining area.  You greet your friends you haven’t seen yet along the way to your seat. 

“Aunt Y/N!” Tom runs over grabbing your leg, leaning down, you pick him up.

Jensen follows behind, taking the seat next to you.  Tom starts waving at him.  Briana, Kim and Felicia are standing in front of the fireplace.  Travis and José are sitting in the high back chairs.  Jaci is sitting on one end of the couch, with Rich next to her. Rob is standing behind Ruth, who is next to Jaci.  Jared on the other end, Gen sitting on his lap. 

“Welcome everyone,” Briana starts off, “welcome to this lovely chalet. It is part of the Mount Seymour Resort area, so ski passes are included if anyone wants to take advantage. It is a ski in/ski out area.  The main lodge does rentals if anyone needs to get some.”

She pauses to look around before continuing.  “I’m so excited to spend the holidays with all of you.  It’s going to be a blast!  We have some great Christmas activities planned for the week or, so we are here.  Wouldn’t it be so much fun to do them in pairs?”

“Bri,” Jensen interrupts her, “you do know Christmas is in three days, right?  And there isn’t an even number of us.”

“Well, Mr. Killjoy, we’ll just start celebrating the 12 days of Christmas after Christmas is over.”

“Not you, too,” Jensen sighs. 

“Anyways, what I was trying to say before I was interrupted,” she glares over at Jensen, “is we have so much planned to make this the best trip ever!”

“Since there is an odd number, as Jensen pointed out, I’ll judge the first activity.”  Felica takes over speaking.  “Which we are going to do tomorrow afternoon.  That gives everyone time to get what they need.”

“Wait a minute!” Jared interrupts this time, “you never said we were being judged for any of this.”

“Not all of it.  Vicki can’t stay more than a night, so when it’s just Misha after Christmas I’ll work with him. We’ll take turns until then.”

“I’ll judge that way you can participate,” Jensen is quick to offer.

“Are you abandoning your partner already?” Kim wants to know.

“How do I already have a partner? This is the first time you've mentioned what we’re doing?”

“We all decided to use couples for partners,” Briana tells him.

“Again, how do I have a partner?”

You’re watching between Jensen and the girls, you have a feeling you know what’s coming.  It’s why they have you and Jensen making dinner together. 

“Y/N’s your partner.  You two spend as much time together as a couple does anyway,” Felicia informs him.

“I spend almost as much time with Jared,” your roommate defends.

“You don’t go home with Jared, though, do you?” Briana comes back with.

“Well, sometimes we might…”

“So what have you ladies planned first?” Ruth jumps in, trying to get it back on track.

“I’m so glad you asked,” Felicia tells her.  “It’s a Christmas cookie bake off!”

“We made cookies at home and brought some.”

“You aren’t getting out of this, Ackles,” Kim tells him.

You turn to whisper in his ear, “will you quit trying to be a pain?” 

“It's Christmas, the calories from sweets don’t count right now.  So we’re going to stuff our faces, while we’re here. Okay?” Briana asks.

Jensen just throws up his hands in surrender.

“Each group is going to make two cookies.  To start you are going to make your favorite sugar cookie and frosting combo.  The second cookie is a Christmas cookie or bar, of your choosing, just not another sugar cookie.”

“What if your favorite recipe is the one where you grab a bag and add an egg or something to it?” Rich asks.

Jaci lightly smacks his arm, shaking her head.  “Ignore him, I have cookie recipes.”

“I brought some baking things up just for this.  If you need something that isn’t here, you’ll need to get it before tomorrow.  We start baking after lunch,” Briana tells the group.

“That concludes tomorrow's big Christmas activity. Any questions?” Kim asks, looking around at everyone. 

 “Okay then, some of you have already checked out the house, for those that haven’t, kitchen, dining room, main dining room, living room.”  She points to each of those rooms as she goes.  “Briana, José, Travis and I are in the two rooms behind the dining room area.  There is a bathroom between them.  Padalecki’s have the room over the front door, with a spare bed for Tom.  Felica and the Collins have the bunkroom in the back corner.  Another bathroom between those.  Rich, Jaci, Ruth and Rob have the two rooms in the hallway overlooking the living room, again a bathroom in between.  That leaves Y/N, and Jensen in the room at that end over the dining room.  There is a bathroom attached to your room.”

“Now for the fun stuff,”  Kim claps her hands together, “the hot tub is out on the deck, through those doors.  The basement has a movie viewing room..”

“You mean it has a tv?” Rob interrupts.

“Yes, it has a few couches and a lounge thingy.  It’s like a mini movie theater.  There is a pool table and foosball table in the game room.  It also has two tv’s.  One for video games, one for watching.  The sauna is downstairs, along with a room to hold your ski equipment, another bathroom and a changing room.”

“Does this place come with a map?” Jared jokes.

“Maybe someone will draw you one, moose,” Rich teases him.

“Just be careful, remember this house isn’t actually ours.  So don’t break anything and keep the rough housing that you guys tend to get into, outside. Please, and thank you.” Briana finishes up.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Jared asks with a laugh.

“You’re paying for anything you break buddy,” Brianna warns him.

The others start to get up and move about, Jared, Rich and Rob heading to the basement.  You turn to Jensen. “I’m going to unpack some things from my suitcase.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

Standing from the couch, the two of you turn toward the basement steps when you hear Rich yelling, “That’s not how you play you giant moose.  I call cheating!”

“Who said you make the rules?” Jared responds.

“Yeah, too early in the week to get in the middle of that,” Jensen says standing up.  

He lets you go in front of him, then follows you up the stairs.  The bag with some of the gifts ended up in the room, you set it by the door to take back down.  There is one present you leave in your suitcase.   This room has a walk-in closet on the other side of the wall behind the bed, you hang up some of your clothes in there.  Taking your bathroom bag into the bathroom you stop in the doorway.

“Wow!”

“What’s up?” Jensen asks.  

You can hear him walking your way, and step into the bathroom.  He takes a look around before agreeing with your sentiment.

“I think Dean would be very pleased with this shower.”  There was a large glass shower on one side.

“He can have that.  I can’t wait to soak in that tub and watch the snow fall.”  After the shower was an inviting bathtub next to a window that overlooked the backyard.

Back in the bedroom, Jensen asks about the cookies you need to make while finishing up with his clothes.

“Do you have an idea? What do you want to make?”

“I have a couple of thoughts, but I wanted to see if there was a certain cookie you were hoping for?”

“No, it doesn’t matter,” he tells you, shaking his head.

“Alright, do you remember the cookies I made for your 4th of July party?”

“You made a few if I recall.”

“The blue ones with frosting.”

“Oh, okay.  I think so.”

“How about we make red and green ones for Christmas.”

“Whatever you want, Y/N.  It honestly doesn’t matter to me.” 

“Okay.” Grabbing your computer from its bag you head to the window seat.  “Did Bri say anything about the Wi-Fi password?”

“No, I’ll ask her in a minute.”

While the computer is booting up, Jensen goes out to check on a password for you.  He comes back a couple minutes later with a picture of the information you need.  Looking up pinterest you browse through your saved pins to see if any other ideas jump out at you.  Jensen is sitting on the bed, typing away on his phone.

“What do you think of White Chocolate Ginger cookies?”

“I heard Gen talking to Tom about making Gingerbread.”

“Alright, Peanut Butter Blossoms?”

“The ones with the kisses in the middle?”

“Yeah.”

“Rob and Ruth were talking about those.”

“Alright then, Jello cookies it is.  That means we’ll need a few things from the store.”  

Looking back at the computer you begin writing a list, adding the few things you’ll need for your sugar cookie and frosting recipes.  Done with the laptop, you close it up and place it on the closest nightstand.  Jensen had claimed the far side of the bed.  Grabbing a new sweatshirt out of your bag you put it on.

“I’m going to go look around the house.”

It takes him a minute to respond. “Hmm?”

“I said, I’m going to go look around.  Do you want to come?”

“I need to make a call, but I’ll be down shortly.”

With a nod, you walk out of the room, taking the time to look around the hallway up here.  From the location of the other bedroom doors, it looks like you and Jensen have the largest room up here.  Pausing on one side of the tall fireplace, you look down over the living room area and out the windows facing the snowy mountain.  You can see the kitchen area off to the side.  It really was something.  A hand on your back has you jumping.

“Whoa, careful.  You don’t want to fall down the stairs right there, or go over the railing.”

“Yeah, that might put a damper on the holiday spirit.  I didn’t even hear you come out of the bedroom.”

“My training as a hunter keeps me quiet,” Jensen replies with a smirk.  

“Is she back?” you question, having an idea who he was on the phone with.

“Back in Canada, but not Vancouver yet.”

You just nod at his response.

The two of you head down the stairs, but don’t see anyone around.  Cheering from the basement, gives away the others location. Following Jensen down the steps you see Rob and Rich on one side of a foosball table, with Jared and Travis on the other. 

 There is an intense battle going on when Jared takes one hand off his bar, quickly puts a finger in his mouth and reaches across the table, sticking it in Rich’s ear.

“Ah, what the hell?”  Rich wipes his ear with his own hand.  

Rob is distracted and turns to Rich while Jared keeps playing followed by Travis.  One of Jared’s players knocks the ball in the goal, and he cheers.

“We win! Ha!”

“No, you giant man child, you cheated!  That goal doesn’t count.”

“You backed away, I don’t force you to leave the table.  You stopped playing, we scored, that means we won.”

“Whatever.  This isn’t over, we’ll get you next time.”

Jensen softly chuckles beside you, but it draws Rob’s attention.  

“Hey Ackles!  Get over here and kick their butts.”

“Yeah, come on Jackles, see if you can beat us,” Jared goads him.

“I’ll take you down, Padalecki.  No problem.  I need a partner, who’s in?”

“Y/N!” Both Briana and Felicia yell out, as José holds up his hand behind them.

Jensen looks between you and the three of them.

“I think it’s safer watching.  I’m going to keep my ears away from Jared.”

You move over to the side watching your friends compete.  Jensen’s side took an early lead, but Jared and Travis were doing all they could to catch up.  The trash talk was flying, but you didn’t expect anything less.  Jared’s side took the lead, soon it was 9-8 their lead.  Jensen and José tied it up, now it’s next goal wins.  

No one notices Rich lean down next to Tom for a moment before walking away.  All of a sudden you hear, “Daddy look!”  

A surprised Jared quickly looks over at his son, while Jensen’s players kick the ball in.

“That's game, we win!” Jensen calls out.

“What, no.  I was checking on Tom.”

“Doesn’t matter, you chose to look away,” Jensen responds with a smirk.

With a sigh, Jared turns to his son, “what’s up buddy?”

“Nothin.”

“Why did you call for me?”

“He told me to,” Tom explains, pointing toward Rich.

“Hey! That was supposed to be our little secret, dude.” Rich responds

“That’s cheating! Game’s not over.” Jared moves back to the table.

“Ah, no.  You choose to look away from the game.  No one made you.  Ackles’ team wins,” Rich tells Jared with a grin.

The guys move on to play pool, while the ladies move upstairs to the large kitchen.  Briana pulls out a large sheet of paper.

“Do you all have your lists?”

One by one everyone told her the items they would need.

“What about mixers?” Gen asks.

“They have two here, and Kim and I both brought ours,” Bri answers.

“I have one in the car.  Jensen laughed at me when I put it in there, but I wasn’t sure what would be here.” you tell them.

Kim counts groups, “So that leaves us one short right?”

“I’ll put it on the list,” Bri goes back to seeing if there is anything else needed.  “Ruth, you and Rob are making dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Correct.  We brought everything we’ll need.”

They’re still talking about food when you once again look around the house.  “That Christmas tree is pretty.  Did you ask them to set one up?”

“Oh no, it was already here.  They told us we could decorate it,” Kim tells you.

“What time did you guys get here?  I thought you said come at 4?”

“The other group left a day early, so they said we could get in this morning.  Kim and I wanted to get some things set up, so we got here around 11,” Briana supplies.

“You did a nice job.”

“Yeah, it looks better than the tree Y/N, put up in our apartment. It’s this little white thing, with a few ornaments on it, doesn’t even have a star.”  Jensen informs your friends, as he walks up from the basement.

“Hey now!  I tried.  We aren’t usually around here for Christmas, so I had to pick a few things up for a tree.  The stores aren’t that full a week before Christmas.”

“What did you do to help her with the tree, Mr.?” Briana asks Jensen.

“Did you go shopping for any ornaments?” Kim wants to know.

“I was in Texas,” Jensen responds, while grabbing water. 

“If you didn’t do anything to help, you don’t get to bitch,” Felica tells him.

“Apparently I’m out numbered here, I’m going back to the basement.”

When Jensen leaves, Brianna steers the conversation back to Christmas food needed. When the list is complete the seven of you move onto the current gossip.  Making sure there is nothing too bad for Tom’s little ears.

Around dinner time, Kim calls in the pizza order.  Turns out the place didn’t have a delivery driver tonight, so she sends Travis and José to pick it up.  Tom really wanted to go play in the snow, so Jared and Jensen took him out while waiting for dinner.  You stand with Gen, watching from the front deck as Tom runs around the snow.

That evening, Bri ushers everyone down to the viewing room for a movie.  You aren’t surprised when you end up sitting right next to Jensen.  To be honest you were expecting a Christmas movie, but instead Just Friends starts playing on the screen.

As the movie plays you suspect there is a reason behind this film choice.  It isn’t long before your suspicions are confirmed. 

“Isn’t it a shame, their friendship ruined because they kept fighting their feelings,” Felica comments with a shake of her head.

“Things would have been so much better if they could have just talked things out,” Briana says with a sigh.

“So much time wasted because of that, so sad,” Kim joins in.

“Didn’t he tell her how he felt at the beginning, and she turned him down?  Seems like that worked out really well for him.” Jensen throws out.

Things were quieter after that.

Walking upstairs after the movie, Bri stops you all in the kitchen.  “Wait up, I need to know if there is anything else needed from the store tomorrow for either cookie baking or Christmas?”

When no one speaks up she continues, “okay good.  I drew a name earlier for which couple was going on this run.  Y/N, and Jensen you're up.” 

“You mean which team; couple isn’t really the right term there.”

“Just go with it, Ackles.” Kim tells him with a glare.

“You’ll want to head out after breakfast, or before.  It’s at least a thirty-minute trip to town, I’m not sure if you’ll be able to find everything at one store.”

“No problem, if you’re done with the list, I’ll put it in my purse.”  You tell your friend before turning to Jensen.  “If you want to stay here, I’m capable of going myself.”

“No!” Felicia calls out.

“You can’t do that,” Ruth injects.

“What if you have car trouble, or a snow issue?  It will be better to have someone go with you,” Kim says next.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Gen adds.

“It’s fine, we'll get it done quicker if there are two of us,” Jensen tells you.

You are talking to the ladies in the kitchen, when Jensen and a few of the guys bid everyone goodnight.  You watch him head up the stairs before turning back to Ruth.

Up in the room, Jensen is about to walk into the bathroom when there is a knock on the door.  Opening it up, Jared is standing on the other side with a small smirk.

“I thought you might need these,” he tosses a bag at him before walking away.  

Jensen opens the bag, and looks inside.  “Really dude?” he calls out to his friend. 

“Don’t forget to wrap it!” Jared walks back to his room laughing.

Walking into the bathroom, Jensen throws the bag of condoms Jared handed him into his bag, before getting himself ready for bed.  He is sitting in bed watching tv, when you come in.  After getting yourself ready, you grab your computer and slide in next to him.

“We went over the dinner schedule for the week.  We’ve got Monday night. I was going to look for a dessert so we can grab the ingredients for that tomorrow.  There anything that sounds good to you?”

Turning down the tv, he looks at your computer screen as you are scrolling through your Pinterest.  

“Those are some bright cookies,” he points to the screen.

“Grinch cookies.” You pull up the recipe looking it over.  “It’s just a butter cookie recipe, they would be easy.  We can make a batch tomorrow.”

You continue scrolling, coming across some Grinch themed cupcakes.  Food coloring goes on your list. 

“So, are we doing either of those for dinner?” Jensen asks.

“I was thinking for Christmas dinner.”

“Okay Betty Crocker, what about for after dinner?”

Leaving the Christmas pins you search for sweets.  There are a few pins you pause to look at, then Jensen stops you.

“That cake looks good.” he says pointing to a picture.

“Lemon Velvet Cake, hmm.  Recipe doesn’t look too bad.  Works for me, if that’s what you want?”

“I’m good with it.”

You add ingredients to the shopping list, while Jensen goes back to watching the television.  When the show ends, he shuts it off.  Turning off the bedside lamp, the two of you get comfortable on the bed.

Waking up the next morning, it takes you a moment to realize there is more light shining in the window than usual.  That’s right, we’re at the Mountain house, you think.  Closing your eyes, you try to fall back to sleep.  As you start to drift off, something shifts under you, then the weight you didn’t realize was across your back starts to rub it. 

“Morning,” he yawns out.

“Morning,” you reply, carefully rolling back over to your side.   

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jensen stretching as he works on waking himself up. Looking over at the clock you notice the time, 7:30.  So much for sleeping in.  Sliding out of bed you make your way to the bathroom, throwing a sweatshirt on when you exit.  By that time, Jensen is out of bed and enters the bathroom after you.  

Heading downstairs, you see Tom playing in the living room, and Gen watching him from the kitchen.  After greeting her, you move over to the coffee maker, and pour a cup for Jensen.  You know the man well enough to know he’ll need it to fully wake up. Then you start the teapot and prepare a mug of hot chocolate for yourself. 

Jensen comes down a few minutes later, hair dripping and dressed in sweats. You hand him the mug as he walks over. He gives you a small smile, taking it from you and drinking.

“Is anyone else up?” You ask Gen, looking around before you take your mug to sit beside her.

“Jared went for a run down the road, Kim was out once, and went back into their room.  I haven’t seen anyone else yet.”

Jensen fills his mug up again behind you, then moves over to look in the refrigerator.  “Do you want to grab breakfast out before we hit the store, or make something here?”

“I don’t care.”

“There is cinnamon raisin and Italian bread in the cupboard, along with mini muffins.  Also, eggs, and cereal here,” Gen tells you both. 

“I think we passed a diner on the way through town, we can try that,” Jensen suggests.

“Alright, I’m going to shower and get dressed so we can go.”

“I'll be up to change in a minute.”

Ready to go, Jensen’s carefully heading down the driveway, waving at Jared as he is running back. It’s about a thirty-minute drive to town. Finding the diner, he pulls into a park and follows you inside. 

Once you are seated at a table, the waitress brings over a pot of coffee to see if either of you want any.  Although, she almost drops it on the floor.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Jensen Ackles, and Y/N Y/L/N, I can’t believe it.  Supernatural is my favorite show. I love you guys.  Is Jared here, too?”

“Hi Kate,” Jensen greets her, reading her name tag.

“Hi,” you smile at her.  “He’s in town with us, but not here. Sorry.”

Someone walking by clears their throat and Kate jumps.  “Oh, I’m so sorry.  Would you like coffee or something else to drink?”

Jensen takes coffee, and you order orange juice.  She leaves you alone to look over the menu. 

“I think I’m going to do the hungry slam, with scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, toast and pancakes,” Jensen announces, closing his menu.

“To eat all that you would have to be hungry.”

“What are you getting?”

“I was debating about pancakes or oatmeal; I think I’m going with oatmeal and a bagel.”

“Get your pancakes, I know how much you like those.”

“Maybe another time.”

Kate comes back for your order and refills your drinks before disappearing again.  It doesn’t take long for your breakfast to come out.  After breakfast, you go up to the register to pay the bill.  Kate is chewing on her lip; eyes keep flicking up to you as she rings the order up.  You have an idea of what she would like to ask.

“Did you want to get a picture, or…?”

“I would love one, my friends will never believe it.  I’m not sure my boss would be happy if I asked.”

“You didn’t, I did.  We would be happy to.”

“Thank you so much!”

Leaving the diner, Jensen heads to the nearest wholesale store.  

“Do you really think we’re going to need this stuff in bulk?”

“Have you met Jared?  You know how much he eats.”

“Fair point.”

The two of you made your way through the grocery section first, checking off the items on your list.  Then the two of you walk through the other aisles looking around. You stop in front of a selection of puzzles. 

“Want to do a puzzle with me?”

“Uh, I guess I can.”

“Which one do you want?” you ask, holding up two puzzles.  One has dogs, the other is a picture of New York city.

“Why don’t you just get them both.”

“Okay.” 

Setting them in the cart Jensen was pushing, you continue on.  You were looking at holiday plates, when he came over with a couple of plastic wine glasses. 

“I think we should get these.  Which one do you want?”  

You look over the different designs in his hand, “which one are you getting?”

“The ‘Stop Elfing Around,’ I think.”

“That is very you.  I’m not sure.  The ‘Have A Holly Jolly Christmas,’ is pretty, and I like the ‘Holly Juice.’”

“Get both,” Jensen tells you putting the three of them into the cart.  

Passing the Christmas candy, you pause to look over the selection.  

“What are you looking for?” Jensen asks, watching you.

“Chocolate covered cherries. Usually, my mom and I make them, but that’s not happening this year.  I was going to grab a box, but I don’t see any.” 

He looks around, then shakes his head, “you’re right.  I don’t see any either.”

“Oh well.”

You walk through a few more aisle before moving to the checkout.  When the car is loaded you slide in next to Jensen. 

“Do we need anything else before we go back?” He asks, starting up the car.

“Not that I can think of.”

“How about lunch?”

“Seriously?  You’re hungry already, after that giant breakfast?”

“That was at 9, it’s already 11.  Plus, by the time we get back and unload it’s going to be close to noon.  We can take it back with us.”

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

“How about sandwiches?”

“Works for me.”

He stops at a sub shop before heading back up the mountain.  The house is full of life when you arrive back.  Tom is being chased around by Rich and Rob.  Travis, José, and Jared are watching from the couch.  Felicia and Kim had gone out skiing. The other ladies were in the kitchen, watching the chase and talking over a pot of tea.

Seeing you and Jesen come up the steps, they get up to help put the groceries away.  Once everything is in, Jensen takes the puzzles and glasses up to your room.

It isn’t long before the girls return, and Tom goes down for a nap.  Bri gathers everyone back in the kitchen to start the baking.  Kim and Bri are working at the large island in the kitchen with their husbands.  Rich, Jaci, Rob and Ruth are stationed at the dining room table next to the kitchen.  Which leaves the Padalecki’s, Jensen and you in the dining room, at the large table.

The various ingredients are spread out over one section of counter space for all to use.  Everyone takes their bowls and mixers to their respective spots.  Jensen and you wait for the craziness in the kitchen to calm down a little before going to grab what you need.  He starts mixing the butter, sugars and eggs, while you are mixing the dry together.  You talk him into drop cookies, since they would be faster than cutouts.  You aren’t the only ones who decide to go that route. The Padalecki’s are doing cutouts.  Gen told you Tom likes the different shapes.  

With the first tray in the oven, you start mixing up the other batch.  After talking with Jensen, the two of you decide on Grinch cookies for the bake off.  You’ll make the others after.  He starts to add the dry ingredients, but you stop him.

“Wait, we need the food coloring.”

You add the yellow, and blue before allowing him to mix those together.  

“That’s a bright green.”

“That’s the idea.”

The M&M’s are added next.  You measure out what you need and turn to grab a sheet of baking paper.  Turning back around you see him pouring a few more M&M’s in the mix.

“Really?”

“It needed a few more.”

“Do we have enough to put on top?” You pick up the now empty bag, “Jensen!”

“Oops.  Good thing I grabbed an extra bag, huh?”

“Yeah, good thing.”

After that batter is mixed up, the bowl goes into the fridge to chill.  The rest of the sugar cookies are rolled out while you are waiting.  Thankfully the kitchen has a double oven to accommodate so many trays.  

You have some time to kill, so you start mixing up one of the jell-o cookies batches.  When the first is done, it’s time to roll out the Grinch cookies.  While rolling the green dough into balls, a flash of green flies by. Looking up, you see Jensen and Jared, throwing pieces of dough at each other.

“Guys, really?”

Hearing you, Gen looks up just in time to see Jared throw a ball of her gingerbread dough.

“Jared Tristen Padelicki, what are you doing?”

“I...uh… Ackles started it.”

“Hey! No you did.”

“The green flew first.”

“I don’t care who started it,” Gen interrupts them, “I’m ending it.”  “I thought I only brought one child along, not three,” she mumbles.

While the sugar cookies, and Grinch ones are cooling you work on the second jell-o cookie batch.  Putting those in the fridge, you pull the first out to roll.  Most everyone else is done with backing their two cookies, so you turn down the oven so you can cook these.  

Before the kitchen is cleaned up from baking, you quickly mix up the cupcake and the cherry cookie batters.  With the batter ingredients put away, the items to make frosting are brought out.  Most of the guys were surprised there were different ways to make the frosting.  

While you are mixing the frosting, Jensen’s phone goes off, signaling a text.  He steps to the side to answer, a few more dings later he comes back.  What you don’t see is Jared watching his friend.

While working on the cookies Jensen went a little sprinkle happy.  He paused at one point to watch how you were decorating the frosting. “How did you learn how to do that?”

“Baking shows.  My guilty pleasure when you aren’t around.” 

“I thought you just watched the Halloween Wars, thing?” Jensen asks.

“That’s the only one you know about.  Mostly because you will actually watch it.”

“I love those pumpkin carvers.” 

Everyone but you are finishing up their decorating, and cleaning up their spots.  The jell-o cookies come out of the oven, and you check with Ruth to make sure you won’t be in the way of them preparing dinner, if you cook the cupcakes.  Moving to the smaller dining room table, Jensen cleans up your spot on the large table. 

Tonight’s dinner has everyone gathered around the long dining room table.  The conversations flowing.  After dinner one of each of the cookies are placed on a plate for Felicia to sample.  She liked your and Jensen’s sugar cookies best, and chose Ruth’s Jam filled snowball cookies as the top variety cookie.

After dinner is cleaned up, you head back to the kitchen. Removing your sweatshirt, you set it on the chair.  Jensen follows you in.

“You’ve had that on and off all day.”

“I don’t want to get it dirty.”

“They make these fancy things called a washing machine.”

“I’m aware.  I do a lot of the laundry back home.”

“Do you need any help with these?” he asks, changing the subject. 

“If you want, sure.  I need to make the buttercream frosting.  Both the cookies and cupcake use it.”

He sets the cupcakes and cookies on the table, while you mix up the frosting.  Jensen offers to frost the cookies, while you do the cupcakes.  Over halfway through, he calls out to you.

“I didn’t catch that, what did you say?” you ask, turning toward him.

He wipes a finger full of frosting across your face, “I said check this out.”

“Hilarious, Ackles, hilarious,” you tell him, getting up to wipe off your face.

“Just trying to sweeten you up.”

“Ha ha.”   

When the kitchen is once again cleaned up, you find your friends downstairs watching the end of The Santa Clause.  Tom begins to panic a little at the end.  

“Mommy, how will Santa know where I am?  What if he doesn’t come?”

“Santa knows, don’t worry buddy,” Gen does her best to soothe him.  “Santa’s elves are keeping track of everyone so Santa will know.”

When Jared takes Tom up to bed, Bri speaks up.  “Misha is coming up with Vicki tomorrow, right?”

“They’re supposed to,” Felicia replies.

“I have an idea to help Tom,” Bri says with a sly smile.

After the second Santa Clause movie finishes everyone starts dispersing to their own rooms for the night.  Jensen is in the bathroom brushing his teeth when you enter.  Grabbing your pajamas, you make sure you have everything you need to get yourself ready. 

When you climb in bed beside Jensen he rolls over, facing you.

“I’ve never spent much time baking before this week.  It’s kind of fun, I’m beginning to see why you enjoy it.  You get a sweet reward when you’re done.”

“True, it can be relaxing when you’re stressed.  I’ve tried to get you to help me before.”

“I know you have.  I might just take you up on it sometime in the future.”

“Sure Jens, I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

The two of you continue talking, the yawns coming frequently.  You’ve already drifted off when Jensen pulls you close, letting you use his chest as your pillow.

Thank you for reading!!

Part 5 

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[stephreynaart]

Gravity Falls - “Waiting”

Pop-Pop AU

Stan sits in a hospital waiting room, thinking about his life and the people he loves.

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This is kinda old, but I realized I never posted it on tumblr. Hope ya like it!

Lots of fluff, the only ships are Soos and Melody.

AO3 LINK

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It had a square aspect ratio. Ink pen and watercolor on white heat pressed cotton paper in a bland white frame. One single blue flower in a red vase with what looks like a yellowish shadow. One shadow going left, the other going right. The lack of confidence and inexperience was obvious, the lines were unfocused and jagged, the color plainly filled the shapes and gave no other visual interest to the image.

Below the frame was a small white card that read “Painting donated by Jessica Blaise from Gravity Falls Elementary School”

Stan scanned the painting at least 20 times while sitting in that chair. The too rough and too soft at the same time chair that had similar copies populating the almost white room he sat in. The wallpaper bouncing off light pinks and blues with tiny ducklings as a makeshift wainscoting was starting to irritate the old man. It was too bright, and the consistent buzz of the fluorescent lights seemed so loud. Stan adjusted himself in his chair, switching his crossed legs to a wider spread and leaned his head against the wall.

The only other stimulus in the room were a few posters promoting proper hand washing techniques, the play area with a small table and chairs with large blocks, crayons and that weird “game” with the metal wiring and wooden beads that’s in every waiting room Stan’s ever sat in. He played with the toys to give himself something to do after he read all the magazines. The novelty wore off fast.

The television mounted on the wall was airing some cooking channel with no sound and no subtitles. Looking at food when you haven’t eaten in a few hours was practically torture, so Stan had been averting his eyes.

There were other paintings on the wall, one was less of a painting, but instead a print of a painting. He doubted that the artist got any compensation from it, if they were still alive. The other was a charcoal drawing done by a student from the community college a town away. Another square, but the entire image was black, the brightest thing on the page was an intruding infant hand coming from the left with the arm fading into the dark background. The fingers seemingly mid-twitch and grabbing at something. The lighting was dynamic and interesting. Stan swore it was a drawing of a penis the first time he glanced at it, which resulted in his brother’s laughter. Stanley smiled at the memory, it was only a few hours ago, but he relishes any time he can make Stanford laugh.

Stan’s eyes darted at the door in the far corner when it opened suddenly. He eased back into his chair when the nurse crossed the room to talk with the receptionist. He couldn’t hear the conversation very well, but could tell they were just gossiping and making jokes. Nothing that was of his interest. So he looked back to the elementary school child’s painting and analyzed it again. His eyes were dry and he was tired. He wished he could sleep, the chair wasn’t comfortable enough and when he did managed to sleep, his neck was sore when he woke up. He was only lucky Ford let him use his shoulder as a pillow for a while. He looked to his left and noted the book his brother placed in the seat. It seemed thick and in what looked like Hebrew. Stan wasn’t very surprised Ford was fluent in the language they were acquainted with as children. Their grandparents on their father’s side were the last to be fully fluent in Hebrew. It was like his brother to be curious of their heritage, but Stan only remembered a few phrases and words he learned from holidays and special event when he had to recite anything in Temple.

Stan crossed his arms and glanced at the clock on the wall and let out an exasperated sigh. It had only been 10 minutes since he last checked the time. He wanted to be at home, be in his soft warm bed and getting ready to eat pancakes at this time in the morning.

He and Ford were on the porch of The Mystery Shack when Soos rushed them off to the hospital the yesterday afternoon. What he originally thought would be a couple of hours of waiting turned into almost twelve. Apparently labour can last a long time.

Stan wished he could be a witness for Soos and Melody like he was when Dipper and Mabel were born, but Melody wanted her privacy, which Stan could respect, but Soos wanted him there…..so he and Ford waited in this bright, annoyingly pastel waiting room, twiddling his thumbs awaiting the arrival of the new member of the mystery family. He was glad he was in at least comfortable clothes, some gray sweatpants and a sweater Mabel knitted for him that read “godfather”.

He was never clear on what the title entailed, but it was mentioned a few times by Soos’ grandmother and the kids insisted that Soos was intending to ask him. He hadn’t, but he didn’t protest Stan wearing the sweater. Whatever job godfathers had, he was willing to play the part if Soos were to ask him.

Stan looked at the double doors a few feet away that lead out of the waiting room and into the halls. His brother left to find something for them to eat, but was taking his sweet time. The turkey being basted on the television was no help in aiding his growling stomach.

He distracted himself by returning his thoughts to Soos and Melody. Just down the hall they were experiencing the strange and beautiful phenomenon that was witnessing the arrival of a brand new person. Stan remembered the feeling so clearly. His entire life he’s felt the presence of human beings. It’s inherent in most people to feel when someone is in the room with you, the other soul sharing the same space as you. Imagine being in a room with a set amount of people and someone else comes in, but imagine they came in without using a doorway. Just appearing seemingly out of thin air. Suddenly another person is with you, and they’re brand new to the world, a life full of potential and power. Yes, today is indeed a happy day, but no amount of positive thinking would ease Stan’s nerves. His foot began to bounce and his hands unconsciously began to fiddle with each other. He didn’t want to think anything would go wrong with Soos’ baby, but anything can happen and life is so fragile, especially at the start of it.

He recalled his nephew’s nervousness the day Dipper and Mabel were born. His hands were shaking and he was constantly checking on his wife and asking the doctors loads of questions. He didn’t fully understand the twins’ father’s behavior until the end of that day.

Mabel’s birth was swift and easy. Her mother only needed to push one and a half times before she was here. It was as if she was eager to meet everyone waiting for her. She cried like most babies do, but Stan could’ve sworn they were tears of joy. While Mabel was greeted with, “hello, beautiful”, “hi, sweetie” and “she’s perfect”, Her brother’s introduction to world started with, “what’s wrong?”, “wait, let me hold him”, and “he’s not moving”. Dipper was rushed out of the room before his mother got a chance to look at him. Stan managed to catch a glimpse of the horrifyingly blue tint on his great nephew’s tiny face. The memory still gave him chills. He remembered how much he wanted to hold Mabel, who began to fuss and cry, obviously missing her brother. He was terrified at the prospect of another incomplete set of twins in their family. After the longest 30 minute of his life, Stan’s great-nephew returned with a bright pink face, wailing with all the power his little lungs could produce. Once the twins were reunited in their mother’s arms, they settled down almost instantly. The doctors told their parents Dipper was significantly lighter in weight than his sister, but both were very strong and healthy. Every so often Stan thinks about Dipper and how much he has impacted his life. His thoughts lead to darker places and he questions if Ford would be here if Dipper wasn’t there to find the third journal. He shook his head as a cold shiver went up his spine.

Stan did his best to distract himself from revisiting the scare that Dipper caused him 16 years ago.

16 years…..17 in August

Stan blinked. The squishy, bright faces that stayed with him that first summer had changed significantly. They stayed in contact all year round and visited every summer since they were 12. But every in-person meeting was always a shock. Dipper was developing the square jaw Stan, both his brothers and nephew shared. He started to regularly wear glasses their second summer with the Stans. Poor kid will grow up looking like Filbrick like the rest of the Pines men. He reminded Stan of Ford at that age.

And Mabel…..

Stan will never get over how much she looks like his mother. It didn’t strike him until Soos and Melody’s wedding and she put her hair in a bun. She’s calmed her hyperactivity down a bit, but not by a lot, she still brightens his day with her wit and creativity. They’ve both matured physically, but not much has changed personality wise and they still acted like big children when they’re around each other. Stan loved them very much, and wished he could see them more often. He wondered what the future held for all of them. Would they still visit town after going to college? Would they move here? Or somewhere else?

He’s had several conversations with them to see how they’re managing the prospect of separating. They’re much better at communicating than he and Ford were and they seem actually excited to have some independence. It made Stan nervous, but he was sure their close relationship wouldn’t suffer.

Wendy chose to be elsewhere for the next few years. She and her friends booked a plane ticket and plan to backpack and hitchhike around Europe and the UK. Stan hopes they stay safe and watch out for each other. Lotta weirdos in Amsterdam. She was set to leave in the coming days, Wendy wanted to wait until today arrived so she could meet Soos and Melody’s kid before going away for who knows how long.

A tap on the shoulder woke Stan from his deep thoughts. His brother arrived with some warm sub sandwiches and coffee.

“Any word yet?, he asked Stan

“Nothin’ yet”, Stan felt helpless not having any clue how Soos and Melody were doing.

Stanford took his seat next to Stanley and they both silently enjoyed their late breakfast. Since arriving they’ve witnessed families reuniting and going past the door in the far corner to meet their children, grandchildren or siblings. Stan looked at the clock again. How has it only been another 5 minutes? He sighed, leaned back and finished the rest of his sub. One hand holding the sandwich, the other went back to gripping the arm rest, then a six fingered hand went down to rest on top of it. Stan let go of the armrest and tangled his fingers between Ford’s and held onto it with a, hopefully not too tight, grip. It was like an anchor to reality, much better at easing his anxieties than any words could. Over the past 4 years, Stan and Ford’s bond grew stronger. Stan still feared one day he would wake up and find himself still in that basement surrounded by broken machinery and languages he didn’t understand. He hasn’t yet, and was enjoying the time he had left with his twin. Stan took a moment to look at his brother again, Ford made eye contact and smiled then continued to read his book. Hands still intertwined

Stans thoughts went back to Soos…

It amazed Stan how much he had grown and it still baffled him that Soos idolized him as much as he does. Before Soos, Stan had no one. His brother was….gone, the rest of the family didn’t talk to him much outside of the holidays and special occasion. There hadn’t been any sense of consistency in Stan’s life for years, decades even, until he hired the chubby little kid he barely glanced at one random Saturday. Soos always arrived to work early, sometimes with breakfast for both of them. Stan didn’t know how much he needed a reliable companion until he had it and he enjoyed the 10 years he had with that kid… or man he should say. Here he was…a few rooms away, becoming a father.

Stan used to daydream a lot about the prospect of having kids when he was younger. He’s was always good with them when he had the chance to babysit his nephew, then later Dipper and Mabel when they were toddlers. He loved having kids in his house that first summer. He loved the energy and the sense of adventure the twins brought. They gave him a sense of purpose and belonging he hadn’t felt in years. He wished he was brave enough to have his own children. Not that he was ever with anyone long enough to want to have kids with him. He supposed it was for the best that he didn’t subject a child to homelessness or an unhappy marriage. He was also terrified at the idea. His dad used to say having kids ruined his life. He wondered who his father was before his older brother was born. Did they really ruin his life? Stan often wondered if he would be like his own dad if he has children of his own. Would he change and become that annoyed parent that resenting his children?

He thought about Soos again

That was probably the closest to parenthood he ever experienced. The first time he felt like one was when Soos asked him for homework help after closing. He initially told Soos no, he wasn’t exactly smart and didn’t think he would be any help. It apparently upset the kid, so Stan sighed and gave it a try. It was fairly simple middle school math, he didn’t remember everything, but helped Soos do more than half of it. Soos thanked him and went home happy. Stan felt weirdly proud, he was glad he made a small difference and managed to teach Soos something he didn’t even know he knew.

The second time was when Soos was a teenager. His grandmother wasn’t able to teach Soos to drive, since she had forgotten how and her late husband used to do the driving, she mostly walked everywhere. Soos offered to work for free so Stan could teach him. Stan loved driving and found teaching Soos cathartic. He was a fast and eager learner, he only bumped Stan’s car once while trying to figure out parallel parking. Little did Soos know that he was getting paid for his normal work hours. Stan just put it away long enough to help buy the kid some old used truck in the junkyard for getting his license. They fixed the truck up and in only a few weeks it was ready to be on the road. Soos has taken good care of it and it’s still his ride to this day

Stan was very proud of Soos. He taught the kid some basic self defense and managed to be a decent influence in his life. Soos at least has his priorities straight.

Stan was even glad to see that Soos was willing to question him. When the portal was reaching the final countdown, he didn’t hesitate to protect the kids from him when he thought Stan was dangerous. He didn’t know, none of them did, so he didn’t blame Soos for distrusting him. He hoped he never had to betray him again. They both had crappy dads, and Stan knew how Soos saw him. Stan was never really sure if he reciprocated those feelings. It felt natural to act the part, but to put a label as important as “dad” on Stan was daunting. Soos definitely deserves better than what he was given, Stan wasn’t sure if he was it.

Stan looked up at the familiar voices running towards him from the double doors.

“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!” Mabel waved to them

The two teenagers and Wendy walked in holding a balloon and various toys. They took some seats across from the Stans and asked how everyone was doing and if the baby arrived yet.

“Not yet, hopefully soon” Ford answered

Stan relaxed and silently enjoyed his family’s company. He laid his head back and leaned slightly on Ford to rest for a minute. His eyes shut as he listened to the kids joke around and talk amongst themselves. He squeezed Ford’s hand one more time before drifting off.

He knew he should’ve tried sleeping earlier, he wasn’t out for more than 15 minutes when Soos came into the waiting room. Stan’s eyes shot open and he was on his feet faster than he did when he was being chased by angry costumers as a door to door salesman. Soos’ red eyes sagged and he seemed exhausted, but carried a proud, wide smile across his face. He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

“It’s a boy”, he squeaked, “mom and baby are okay”

Dipper and Mabel were first to start the hugs, and the room filled with cheers of congratulations and love. Stan felt light as a feather giving Soos a hug and joking about child labor.

“Can we see him?”, Mabel bounced with anticipation

“Yeah, dudes!”, Soos gestured everyone past the corner door and into the suite. “But only for a little while, Melody has to sleep”

The room was small, dimly lit and warm. The Pines crew collectively lowered their voices as Melody came into view on the bedding holding a bundle of blankets decorated with small yellow ducklings. She was leaned back on a large pillow, covered in blankets and toted a soft smile on her face. Soos stroked her hair and picked up his little son to show to the Pines’. The younger twins got a look at him first,

Mabel squealed and cooed at the tiny infant. Then Wendy, who said hi to the baby and told Soos she’d make sure to send him gifts while she was away

“What’s his name?”, Mabel asked Melody

“I named him after my dad”, Melody replied, “Jacob”. She smiled sadly at the memory of the father she lost the year before.

Soos approached the Stans, Ford smiled and complimented the couple on a having such beautiful little boy, but shot Soos a look, who silently replied with another one. Something was up.

Finally Stan got a look at baby Jacob. “Wow” Stan smiled, patting Soos’ arm. “He looks exactly like you”

Soos laughed, “really? I think he looks like Melody”, there was a short silence before Soos spoke up again.

“Do you want to hold him, Mr Pines?”

Stan looked at Soos and smiled, “heh, sure”. He held his arms out. Soos lowered his arms to pass the baby to Stan, who scrunched his face up and started to fuss. Stan took the infant and managed to hold him with one arm. He bounced and shushed little Jacob until he calmed down. “Heya kid”, He’s held babies dozens of times, but something felt different about this one. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Stan felt an almost magnetic pull towards him. Jacob settled comfortably against Stan and continued his rest. Stan softly beamed at the tiny person in his arms.

“Hey, Stan?”

Stan lifted an eyebrow and looked at Soos, who was fidgeting with his hands and nervously smiling.

“Uh..”, he paused, taking in the sight of Stan holding his child. “You know about my dad”, Soos looked at Ford again, who shrugged and nodded. Stan studied Ford’s face, who’s eyes strayed away as he hid a small smile. Soos got his attention again.

“You uh…he wasn’t…”, Soos choked up, his voice strained a bit, “I met you when I was probably the loneliest I ever was in my entire life”. Stan pictured the little boy he hired on the spot, he didn’t remember him until Soos showed up at his door step the next day ready to work. He didn’t know how much that quick, thoughtless decision would change his life.

Soos perked up and walked across the room to a table and picked up the piece of paper sitting on it. Soos glanced at it, then at Stan and smiled, gaining some emotional strength it seemed.

“You mean a lot me”, Soos, “you were there when I really needed it, you gave me a job, taught me just about everything I know. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that”

Stan got a bit nervous, Was this him asking to be the godfather?Everyone was silent and curiously watching. Soos held his hand out and handed the paper to Stan. He adjusted his arm to properly hold Jacob in his arm and took it. Stan flipped the page and noticed it was the baby’s birth certificate. Stan eyes bounced off the page and read the various information: birthdate, weight, parents, but he froze when he read the full name. Stan’s wide eyes questioningly studied Soos’ face.

“Are you…”, Stan felt his own throat tightening, crap. Come on, not in front of everyone “really?”, he asked. Soos gave a genuine nod and sniffed.

“I uh” Soos cleared his throat, “I was wondering, since Jacob doesn’t have one…if you wanted to be…. his grandpa?

There it was

Stan felt dizzy and took a small step back before remembering who was in his hands and regained his balance. Ford came to his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Stan decide not to look at his brother and chose to stare forward, then his eyes went back to Soos, who look deflated. Oh man. Stan was terrified, he didn’t want to say no and hurt Soos, but if he said yes….he wasn’t sure what made him so nervous. The entire concept sounded so alien to him, like he didn’t deserve the title. He always considered Soos, Melody and their son a part of his family. But to bare a title like “grandpa”, had to mean he had children that that children. That he was already a parent without his knowledge. It all felt so natural to want to lean into this and become part of this family like Soos wanted.

He heard something make a noise from beneath himself. Stan looked down at little Jacob, who was mid yawn. The baby’s mouth grew wide opens and inhaled, scrunching up his face and suddenly shut. Suddenly two tiny eyes opened for just a few seconds, enough time for Stan to make eye contact before Jacob shut them and got comfortable again

Everything was different now.

Stan didn’t notice how quiet the room had gotten nor the tears forming in his eyes. Stunned by beauty and overcome with pride and a sense of purpose. The pride he felt teaching Soos math, how to drive and attending his graduation all combined just looking at the perfect being in his arms. If he said yes, he would want everything that came with it. Stan lifted the birth certificate up to read the name again.

Jacob Stanley Ramirez

��Y-Yes”, he heard a shaken voice say, almost not realizing it was his own “of course”. He looked at Soos, tears in his eyes and a bright smile on his face. He still wasn’t sure if he deserved this, but Stan wanted it. He wanted it all. Why not indulge just this once? He gave the certificate to Ford and used his now free hand to pull Soos into a hug. Gently sandwiching his…..grandson in between him……and his son.

[thran-duils]

Lost in Your Current (P.2)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 3,044 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating, 18+ as always For this chapter specifically: FORCED. MATING.

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“He’s probably gotten cabin fever and the opportunity for bonding drove him to this,” Carol said, trying to be diplomatic.

“It is alpha arrogance is I what it is! I thought they – Steve and Tony and every other man I worked with that have been afflicted – were insufferable before. This just makes it all that much worse! Thinking they know what’s best and the fucking obnoxious over confidence!” Natasha spat.

Her and everyone else had woken up hours after Tony had left with Y/N. She had immediately gone to the security recordings and saw Tony entering Y/N’s room, cornering her, and knocking her out. As she fell, he activated his suit, holding her up until he could pick her up when the suit was done building around him. He used the suit to blow a hole through the wall with one of his repulsors and left the building that way, cradling Y/N. ‘He couldn’t have used a goddamn door like a normal person?’ Natasha had spat when she saw that.

She turned away from the security recordings and took a deep breath.

“Maybe it’ll be fine. Y/N was on her way to weaning off,” Carol pointed out. “Not the most chivalrous ways to go about collecting her but when she wakes up, she may be comforted by Tony’s presence. That’s the way with Omegas isn’t it? Just having him nearby will calm her.”

Natasha shook her head and pierced Carol with a stony look. Carol closed her mouth, seeing that.

Natasha started firmly, “He should have listened to me! What is more likely to happen is that he’s going to fall into a rut and then he’s going to lose control. Which means he is going to hurt her if she struggles which she is likely to do considering she is not in heat! Or off her suppressants completely in the first place, so even if she’s drawn in by him, it’s not going to be the same as if she was presented to him clear and clean. It’s not going to be good!”

“It worked out with Steve’s omega.”

“Steve locked her away – just like Tony is going to do – and I’m sure the coupling was not gentle. I saw the ghosts of bruises on her cheek and shoulder!”

“Oh…”

Carol had not gone with Natasha to check up on them and Natasha had refrained from divulging those details before.

“Should we go up to his place?” Carol asked quietly. “Get her back?”

Natasha sighed, leaning against the desk, her eyes fixated on the replay of Tony taking Y/N, seriously considering it.

Finally, she admitted, “No. That’ll just make it worse.” She slammed her hand on the desk and stood up straight. “That stupid son of a bitch! The only good thing is that we know she’s going to be safe up there in general with him because he won’t let harm come to her.”

<><><>

You woke in a luxurious bed, stretching out. Your face rubbed against the silk pillowcases, and you sighed in contentment. You sat up immediately realizing you were in a room you did not recognize. Eyes darting, you took in the wall of windows, spotting the tall trees outside and evening fog. And the large flat screen television mounted on the wall across from the bed. It was a room of wood, you realizing you were in a cabin.

The room seemed familiar though.

More accurately…. The scent was familiar. It was all over the bed.

You looked down, pulling the covers completely back, finding yourself in a t shirt and boxers. That was not what you had been wearing. You had been wearing a hospital gown…

The hospital.

It came back to you.

Not a hospital, a facility. Government secret. Natasha Romanoff, along with SHIELD, had had you under surveillance as you came off your suppressants. And then… Tony.

Your eyes looked around the room again, nervous energy thrumming beneath your skin. Where was Tony? And more importantly, where were you?

Slowly pushing the blankets back, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and your feet hit the sheepskin rug running along the side of the bed. You nestled your toes into the softness as you pushed yourself up.

A thought came to you suddenly and your hand slapped up to your neck. No. It had not been penetrated, your mating spot. You thought again of how you were in different clothes and what strength that must have taken him to dress you without taking you. Yet, you could scent him on your skin. He had not resisted touching you.

You stepped off the rug and the hardwood creaked. You grimaced but what did you expect? You took more steps towards the windows, looking down out over the yard. Dusk would fall soon. There was a vast lake, partially hidden by large trees further out. Some deer were grazing in the yard. There was no one in sight and that set you further on edge. You did not want to be alone.

Pulling away from the window, you turned to go towards the bedroom door.

Halfway down the staircase, you saw Tony sitting at the table. And he was already looking up at you, eyes piercing. You stopped on a dime, straightening up, hand gripping the iron railing. He was waiting and you took the bait.

“Where are we?”

“Our cabin.”

“‘Our’ cabin?”

Tony did not miss the resistance in your voice. He closed the hologram he was working on, fully focusing on you. “Yes. Ours… now.”

You scanned the rest of the ground floor, what you could see of it. It truly was just the two of you. You descended the rest of the stairs, keeping a wary eye out. Tony could sense your unease.

He gestured at the seat beside him. “Here. I’ll get you something to eat. Sit.”

You slowly sunk into the chair watching him as he got up and went towards the fridge. He was tense, you could see that in his shoulders. Both of you were on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But the tenseness in him… that was setting the hair on your arms on end. He was worked up… too worked up.

Still, you sat still, not wanting to antagonize him any further.

He brought back a plate with hardboiled eggs and fruit, placing it in front of you. He must have peeled the eggs beforehand in anticipation of feeding you.

“Thank you,” you said gently, pulling the plate towards you.

Tony’s hand reached out, brushing yours, tracing up. And you froze. He merely inhaled deeply as his hand fell away. He had scented you again.

Oh. He was most certainly worked up about you. You knew your cycle was due, the worst time for you to be coming off of your suppressants. And he had put you in his bed, scented your skin with his sheets and his own hands to mark you as his. A warning if there happened to be any Alphas around, which you doubted. But he was possessive. You were destined to be his after all.

“Toast?” he asked.

You gave a curt nod. He set to make that for you, and you kept your eyes on his back as you bit into the egg.

<><><>

He fell asleep later in the evening and you pulled yourself off the couch. He had insisted you sat close as the two of you watched a movie. He was trying to court you, something unnatural for him you assumed having known his reputation throughout the years. He was a celebrity, how could you not know?

He did not stir, and your eyes went to the door.

<><><>

Moments after the screen door closed, FRIDAY piped up on Tony’s watch, startling him awake.

“Sir, your guest utilized the front door.”

Tony turned towards the door, shaking his grogginess. Y/N was indeed not in the cabin, and he got up from the couch quickly, moving towards the door. Rage was quickly overtaking as he thought of her trying to leave him.

<><><>

You were bolting towards the dock and came to a stop at the end of it. It was vast. And you could not spot any other houses along the lake from here. You had no hope of escaping this remote place without his help. He held the keys to the boat in the boat house and to his car.

You were truly stuck here.

“Y/N!” you heard his voice bellow across the yard.

Whipping around, you saw him quickly closing the distance.

Your heart started to hammer, realizing what you had probably done to him. You had come out to check your surroundings without him watching over your shoulder. But by sneaking off, you had certainly flamed his Alpha, causing him to fly into a rut at your absence. Even further than it had been before. You had been warned about this in the underground; it was dangerous to do this, especially to your Alpha you had been destined with.

Without much thought, you dove off the dock and swam to try to hide yourself in the brush along the lake. Hoping pathetically that the scent of the water would do some to hide you from him until you could find a clear path back inside and lock the door until he calmed down.

Your lungs were bursting but you did not surface again until you were beneath the branches overreaching the lake to the right of the dock. You did your best to keep quiet. You heard him calling your name angrily, his pacing on the dock. He could not tell which direction you had swam to, the right or to the left to the boat house.

Through the branches, you clung to one, watching him as you floated.

He looked furious, territorial. His eyes were searching for the lake and in the succumbing darkness, you knew it was harder for him to see if you had surfaced anywhere.

Stupid.

You should have waited longer to go wandering.

But if you had waited longer, you may have also been mated. You had been stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Tony started storming back up the dock towards land and went to the left towards the boat house. When he disappeared inside, you crawled out of the lake, your bare feet sinking into the mud as you made your way back through the shrubbery and back into the yard.

You gasped when you set off a motion sensor light and your head whipped towards where the boathouse was. It was only a split second before he emerged again, eyes directly at you.

“Y/N!” he called out threateningly as he took off towards you, his tone woven with his Alpha tone.

It was powerful. You felt your knees go weak upon hearing it. He must have studied up, practiced. Tony Stark was not a stupid man by any means, and he had no doubt been given intel about how the Alpha and Omega connections worked. Or maybe he was just a natural.

Regardless, you fought against your jelly legs as he was gaining on you. He was getting close and you swore at yourself loudly in your head, tearing away from the spot as you gained control again. He let out a roar of frustration as you sprinted away from him.

You tried to run back inside. You flew up the stairs, breath short. You felt his hand at your back, grabbing hold of the fabric. You stumbled as he yanked, and it slowed your movement. With a rough tug, you lurched forward though, and your hand was on the screen door, throwing it open. You did not care to try to close it as you came into the cabin, hand landing on the edge of the door. You went to slam it closed.

Tony was too quick though, barreling straight into it, coming in through the still wide-open screen door.

You were sent spiraling onto your backside with his force. Tony was on you in the blink of an eye, pawing. His knees were on the outsides of your thighs, holding you down to the ground.

“Y/N! Stop it!” he demanded, his hands gripping your wrists painfully to stop your thrashing.

Panting, you stared up at him, stilling your movement. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, eyes blown wide from lust. At the sight of you still, a possible sign of acceptance, he ground his hips slightly as he tested your temperament out. He was so close. And he smelled so good and was holding you so tightly. It was what he was supposed to do and what you were supposed to do was obey him. He wanted to mate.

Supposed to.

You took the opportunity that he was distracted to yank a hand towards you, and you bit his hand roughly.

He shouted angrily, letting go, pulling back. It gave you the momentum to toss him off of you and you scrambled away from him. You almost lost your footing on the hardwood, but you regained it quickly. Another Alpha roar tore from his throat, sending a wave of dismay through you that your Alpha was upset and upset with you specifically. You were panicking as you heard him following you. Circling the stairs, you went to go up them. You could lock yourself in the bedroom. The door was heavy and that could hold him until he calmed down enough.

Tony’s hand closed in on your calf as you took to the stairs, and he yanked you back. You collided with the stairs painfully on your stomach and elbows, the air forced from your lungs on the impact, and he was holding you there suspended on the bottom of the stairs.

“Making me hurt you,” he snarled as he struggled with you. “Why can’t you just be good like you’re supposed to?”

“Alpha!” you begged pathetically.

That only drove him more insane. Tony groaned, tearing your boxers down your thighs, and yanking them off from around your feet.

You tried to scramble away again, a hand slapping on the next stair up, but he barked, “Omega!”

That caused you to freeze, your hormones overwhelming you. It was so hard; your soon-to-be mated brain was clashing with you. You were in pain, fighting him. Not just physically but mentally. Your body wanted to give in so badly; you were already wet. But your sensible side was pleading with you to fight back.

Tony’s fingers were in your pussy and your sensible side was quickly becoming overshadowed. Alpha was holding you tightly, working you up, prepping you like he should. Just so he could take care of you. You were safe in his embrace. You felt his hard cock pressing at your thighs.

No no no no. You were pulling away again. Or tried to.

Tony hiked your hips up and he drove himself home. You squirmed, trying to get away from his grip, to pull away so his cock was not in you. Tony responded angrily. He fought you, pinning you tighter against the stairs with his weight.

“You want this Omega, you need this,” he breathed shakily, his cock pulling slowly in and out. You were becoming more wet, giving him lubrication. It felt like you were adjusting specifically for him, his cock fitting perfectly inside you, no matter how deep he went. Your body was betraying you, responding to him and not yourself. And he was taking advantage of it to the fullest. He groaned as he buried himself again to the hilt this time. “So tight, Omega. You’re mine. All mine. Always going to be mine.”

The sound of your slick and his pelvis bouncing off of your ass filled the space.

Yes. Yes. You arched your back and it allowed him to drive deeper, drawing a groan of approval from him. You melted underneath the sound of it.

His. You were Alpha’s. You were sinking beneath the fog that had threatened to overtake you. You were desperate to please him. Your fingers spread out on the stairs as you relaxed ever so slightly, letting him drive easier up into you even further.

Alpha was happy with that.

“What did I say? See? You want it. So badly. Mine. Mine,” Alpha was giving broken husks of praise as he drove himself into you. “Perfect for me.”

It felt so good, you were drowning in his scent.

You pressed back onto him for more, but he took that as a threat and he let out a low, rumbling growl. You stopped the pressure, whimpering in submission.

Alpha was not having it though, his hand holding tighter. You felt the tightness in your core and you were quickly becoming breathless as you felt the oncoming wave.

<><><>

Tony’s hold on her neck was going to bruise, he sensed that even above his Alpha rut. But he simply did not care. She had fought back, tried to run, disobeyed him above everything else. She was never going to do that again. He was going to make sure of that.

His teeth dug into her mark, and she cried out. She tasted as sweet as she smelled to him. His cock brushed her sweet spot and she whined. It was a siren song and he fell under the wave of it.

She went lax, whimpering. He practically purred at the physical submission.

Finally.

“So good, Omega. Taking me so well,” Tony praised against her neck, much to her pleasure. She loved praise, that much he had discerned. He kissed roughly as he worked her up. Her breath was becoming short, and he knew she was close. He was so eager to fill her up.

He moved quicker feeling her so close now that he had bit. And she fell quickly, quivering around him, crying out in release. The tightness was too much. His cock was thickening, and he moaned.

“Gonna breed you, Omega. You’re going to be so beautiful, round with my child,” Tony husked against her neck. She whined needily and he let go, fully seated inside her, coating her walls. His groan was loud and long.

~~~

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