#i walk up to the front door of my old house and thru the screen is shaped like a huge hand filling the whole screen against it

[chimivx]

champagne confetti.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader (ot7 minus two) (vegas addition)

summary: Jungkooks secret listening party is full of surprises.

word count: 7400

warnings: 18+, adults doing adults things and talking about adult things, no explicit sexual content, drinking, mentions of miscarriage/pregnancy talk, IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

a/n: I was supposed to post this in the beginning of January. Apologies for the delay, been goin thru some things. Love you all. xo. This feels like an ending... But, I dunno... It also feels incomplete...

~ october 11th, 2023 ~

It took three rings for her to answer the phone.

Leaning over the bathroom counter, iPhone propped up against the mirror, your lips were pressed together firmly, an unreadable expression as Sunny’s bright smile popped up on the screen and fell within milliseconds, her pink glossy lips frowning. Behind her, palm trees and sunshine, a backdrop she’s become accustomed to, one she belongs in front of.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, squinting. Voices chattered in the background, a prominent one belonging to none other than Khloe Kardashian herself.

Taking a deep breath, you asked, “You’re filming?”

“No, having dinner with the girls,” she spoke fast, her eyes locked on you. “What’s going on? You okay? Dae okay? I can fly back.”

A small smile broke onto your lips. Nerves jittered in your veins, your heart beating a little faster than it should be. “We’re okay, just finished breakfast. She’s running around my room right now, she’s obsessed with Kook’s dirty ass song. We’ve had to listen to it everyday. Everyday, Sun. I hate it.”

“The Jack Harlow one?” she asked, and your grimace answered for you, making her cackle.

“First Seven, now this,” you said, teeth clenched. “What happened to sweet baby Jungkook?”

Sunny’s laugh sounded through your phone once more, triggering the pitter patter of little footsteps to come barreling into the bathroom door. “Honey, you’re funny, you know who changed that man.”

Your smile grew, shaking your head because you knew damn well who changed that man. Glancing to your right down at the floor, a two year old in pastel yellow footed pajamas was watching you, holding onto the doorframe with her little hands. There were messy pigtails in her hair, black as night, the skinny rubber bands slipping out after a good night's sleep. Eyes wide, the ghost of a smile on her face, she knew who you were talking to. 

“Hi,” you said to her, and she giggled, her cheeks squishing her eyes like her fathers would.

“Dae?!” Sunny called, lurching forward in her seat. She excused herself from the table and hurried into whoever’s house she was at, walking into a hallway grander than your own. Your daughter’s lips parted, curiosity written all over the face she stole from your husband. 

“Who is it?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the toddler as she walked toward you, wrapping her arms around one of your legs.

“Where’s my girl?” Sunny’s tone was eager, all she could see was the top of your head. Crouching down to pick Dae up, you propped her on your hip and grinned as Sunny gasped. “Hello, beautiful!”

Dae smiled, looking down at the phone, then looked at you, putting a finger between her little teeth.

“Say hi to Sunny,” you nodded, brushing leftover crumbs from breakfast off of her pajamas. “Tell her you haven’t brushed your hair yet today.” Another dramatic gasp came out of the phone, catching Dae’s attention.

“Baby, you tell your mother I blame her for that.” Sunny clicked her tongue. “You can’t even reach your hairbrush, it is not your fault.” She squinted at the screen. “She had those rubber bands yesterday, Honey, get them out!”

Dae was laughing, Sunny’s silly tone making her giggle in your arms, subsequently making you giggle along with her. “Dae,” you said softly after a breath, your daughter pointing her gaze at you. “Tell Sunny we’ve been really busy.” Your Californiacated best friend froze, her sculpted eyebrows furrowing a bit.

“Busy,” Dae said, copying you, her listening ears on full alert. Her little voice soft, smooth, the words broken as she tried to pronounce everything correctly.

“I’ve been gone for two weeks,” Sunny deadpanned. “How busy can you be?”

A laugh escaped you, Dae smiling back at you.

“Hey,” Sunny whined, “I’m over here, girl party, I want in on the secret,” she glanced around the room she was in, “I’m alone, promise.”

Your girl threw her arms around your shoulders, burying her head into your chest. Taking a look at Sunny, you laughed again at how smushed she looked on the screen, like she was trying to push her way through. Tapping your daughters back a few times where you held her, she perked up, still wearing a smile.

“Do you want to show Sunny?” you sighed, the nerves spiraling out of control.

“Show Sunny,” Dae said, drumming her hands on your shoulder.

“Show me what?!” Sunny cried from the phone.

A sudden deep breath shot through you. Dae, studying your form, placed a hand on your cheek, getting you to look over at her. You’ve seen the sparkle in her eyes elsewhere, in someone you’ve been without for a few weeks now. Someone you both had to say goodbye to, a day you wished to never have to relive.

She was half his, Dae was. Half Yoongi. A part of him you could still hold onto during these long months he’d be gone. It was never certain when you’d get to see him again throughout his service, but you held onto to hope that it was sometime soon. Especially now.

“I love you,” you whispered to your baby.

Dae, without missing a beat, whispered, “I love you.”

~ november 4th 2023 ~

Music played throughout the room soft enough to still be able to hear the person next to you speaking, yet loud enough to keep conversations private. Dressed in all black, flowing pants and a long sleeved bodysuit, you walked throughout the room with your chin held high, eyes searching the place for a familiar face. You’d come with Sunny, but she was stolen away from you the second you stepped in the door.

The night was alive, this venue buzzing with excitement and happy vibes as people who were both close friends or acquaintances of Jungkook came together to celebrate his brand new album, Golden. After listening to him, and watching him work on this project for ages, it meant so much to be able to be a part of this night. He was the last one to put out any solo music, meaning this was a celebration for the end of an era, and you were not ready for the start of the next one.

The one where you’d have to do life without any one of the seven boys around.

Greeting a few familiar faces, and a few new ones who just started to pay attention to you this year because of what went down in February, you moved throughout the room with a sprinkle of attention on you. During Yoongi’s tour that you were very much involved with, your daughter included, your entrance into the media world exploded. After February and the announcement, of course word of his family spread like wildfire, but the tour brought it all to life.

Now that he was gone the people who spoke to you tonight gave you the sympathetic half smile and nod, asking you how you and Dae were holding up without him. To each and everyone of them, you’d grin and shrug, letting them know this was no different than him being on tour, or him going away for work. Time spent a part was the story of your life. Especially after the last three years with your daughter.

Though, you weren’t going to lie, this go around the time a part was rough. You aren’t able to call him whenever you please, nor was he able to jump on a plane, or get in a car and come home to you whenever he felt like he needed just twenty minutes of your time. He truly was absent, and it sucked. Your two year old didn’t understand it, though she was used to her father being away. That much she got, but when it came down to not being able to see him through a phone screen as often as she pleased, she became a pouty mess.

Within the last month Dae has definitely become more clingy than you’d have wanted, but you knew that was just because she was having some big feelings that she didn’t understand yet. Both you and Yoongi prayed that this wouldn’t have a large impact on her and her development as she got older, her father being gone for such a chunk of time in her early years of life. You made it a point to talk about him every single day, play his videos, play voicemails he left you in preparation for this, listen to his music, and show her pictures of them together.

It wasn’t a worry she’d forget about him, it was a worry that she’d forget how he loved her.

The two of you had just watched a video of him talking to her before you left the house to come to the party, the clip leaving you in tears. He was in his office sitting in the leather chair at his desk, his hair messy over his forehead and his eyes tired. The weeks before he left were brutal for you both. He spoke to her with intention, repeating on and on how much he loved her, and how much he missed her, that he was proud of her and that she would see him very soon.

He tried his hardest to not shed a tear, but it happened anyway, and in true Yoongi fashion he laughed it off. After speaking to Dae he turned his words to you, knowing you’d be watching with her. He didn’t do this every time, he left other things just for you, so it was a complete surprise. As expected, your husband declaring his love for you, in front of your daughter, left you in tears.

But, the story of your life, right?

Smoothing your hands over your middle, smiling at a group of girls walking past you who had bowed their heads, you approached the bar, finding exactly who you were looking for. The boy dressed in all white towered over you, the view of his back from behind unbelievable. He stood next to Namjoon who was just as tall as him, but not nearly as wide. The maknae passed him a while ago.

Pushing between both of them, just below their shoulders, a smile pulled at your lips as they stepped away from you, then gasped once they realized it was you.

“Honey!” Namjoon cheered, slinging an arm around your back to give you a hug. Throwing both of your arms around his broad shoulders, you pulled him close and squeezed him, standing on your tiptoes.

“Hi,” you said quietly, pecking a quick kiss to his cheek. “Missed you guys,” you sighed, turning to Jungkook who waited patiently for his hug. “You’re all too busy now.” You barely had your arms around him before Jungkook was lifting you off the floor, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Kook!” you giggled. “Put me down, I’m fragile!”

“Fragile,” he laughed, following directions, making sure you were balanced in your black boots before he let go of you. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he smiled at you, one that was all too big.

“Me too,” you returned the smile and snatched his hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“How’s the baby?” Namjoon asked, leaning against the bar with an elbow. Whirling around, you shot him a wide eyed look. “Dae?” His smile relieved almost every nerve that sparked in your heart.

“Dae,” you breathed. “She’s amazing.” The boys smiled, always happy to hear you speak of your daughter. “She’s… doing her best right now. We both are. She misses him.”

Namjoon pursed his lips and gave you the sympathetic nod so many other people have already given you. “Understandable,” he said. “It’s tough.”

“It is,” you shrugged. “But, we knew it was coming, so I’m… somewhat alright. It’s just hard to try to explain it to a two year old.”

A bartender sped by the back of the bar to refill glasses with Golden etched on them, placing down new ones for those who had just shown up, you included. Champagne bubbled in the glass that you were definitely heading home with. Jungkook grabbed two, holding one out for you to take.

“We’re not sad today,” he grinned. Glancing at the glass, you gulped and looked up at him.

“I’m not gonna drink, Kook,” you said quietly. Namjoon, already downing half his glass, perked a brow.

Jungkook nodded and turned toward the bar to place the glass down, but then froze, facing you without doing so. “Wait, hang on,” he said. “Where’s she at?” His eyes narrowed.

“Sunny?” you questioned. “Somewhere around here, I think-”

“No,” he cut you off, grilling you with his gaze. “Dae.”

A nervous laugh escaped you. “Kook, she’s not here.”

“Liar, where is she?” He did a once over of the room, his hardened gaze falling upon you again.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, placing a hand on your hip. “She’s at home, probably begging Branson to play that god awful song you made about ejaculating on someone's face.” Behind you Namjoon lost his mind, nearly spitting out his drink. You shot him a look over your shoulder. “You’re not off the hook Mr. Smoke Sprite.”

Jungkook would have laughed if his jaw hadn’t fallen open in shock, a big ol’ smile behind it all. “She doesn’t like that song.” His whisper was laced with disappointment, eyebrows twisting into a knot in the center of his forehead.

Thinning out your lips, you nodded. “Loves it, Jungkook. She loves it.”

“Oh no,” he groaned, rolling his head back, taking a gulp of champagne. “Don’t let her listen to it, not my girl.”

“Now, whenever you feel like making a song like that ever again, you think about her,” you started to smile, knowing your words would make an impact. “You want someone to treat her like that when she’s all grown up?”

He scrunched his nose and pouted at you. “No,” he mumbled.

“Exactly,” you nodded once and took the champagne glass from him, taking a sip before stopping dead in your tracks. Processing your situation, Namjoon and Jungkook sandwiching you at the crowded bar, there really was no way for you to be sneaky about this. With the glass in your hand, you sideyed them both, a mouthful of champagne marinating on your tongue. Closing your eyes, you took a breath and accepted your fate, a stream of champagne falling from your lips back into the glass in your hands.

“I knew it,” Namjoon muttered. You could hear the smugness written all over his face. You gave him the quickest look without giving anything away, and turned to Jungkook whose face was screwed up, completely confused.

“Just drink it, Hon,” he laughed. “Dae’s home, you’re here to be you, you don’t have to worry about…” Voice trailing off, he paused and eyed you curiously. Then it all seemed to click at once. “Are you lying?” Testing the waters, he held in his jitters, but you could see it all building up beneath the surface. “You’re ly- Shit, no you wouldn’t do that… You’re… Honey, you swear?” 

Taking a long deep breath, you placed your glass on the bar and shrugged your shoulders. He exhaled heavily, a single laugh coming out with it. He held his arms out at his sides, putting his own glass down, trying to gauge how you were feeling by your body language. Namjoons eyes flickered between the two of you, allowing you your moment before he stepped in.

“It’s, like… brand new. Really brand new,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Sunny knows, but that’s it. I’m not trying to… get anyones hopes up.” Speaking carefully, like you were warning them, Namjoon was the only one to nod in respect for what you had said. Jungkook understood of course, but his heart always got the best of him first. “I found out three weeks ago, I’m barely two months in.”

“Holy shit,” Jungkook whispered, pulling you into his arms. He shared a look with Namjoon, one you thankfully couldn’t see, a slightly worried one. Laying your head on his chest, the chains he wore cold against your cheek, you closed your eyes and let his hands on your back soothe some of the anxiety you’d been feeling since you saw the two little lines in your bathroom back in October. “I’m so happy for you, Honey.”

“Thanks, Kookie,” you said, painting a smile on your lips. “I haven’t been able to say the words yet,” you admitted, pulling back from him. Hugging Namjoon who congratulated you quietly, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Thirty years old and I can’t say the words.”

“That’s okay,” Namjoon said, embodying the word empathy.

Letting his calm, peaceful aura bleed into yours, you bobbed your head. “It is okay,” you repeated, not allowing you to gaslight yourself. Averting your gaze to the bar you shrugged your shoulders once more. “I just hope I have the courage to say them to him.” The boys were quiet, focused on you, listening intently. “It’s a shitty time for this to happen, I think, but not in the sense that… Well, you know what I mean?”

“Course,” Jungkook said, brows pointed.

“It’s just with Dae already having a hard time, Yoongi having a hard time, me, myself having a hard time,” you paused to collect your thoughts, squinting down at the wood. “What we just went through not even a year ago? I am just freaked the absolute fuck out that I’m going to go through it alone this time.”

“You can’t do that to yourself,” Namjoon spoke with ease. “Don’t add any more stress onto this. Timing may not be ideal, but it never was for you guys. If anything… this is right on point.”

“Shit, Joon.” The words tumbled from your lips in an exasperated burst. Throwing your arms back around him, you held him tight. All it took were two simple sentences to almost flip your mentality completely. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I was totally thinking the same thing, by the way,” Jungkook said, making you smile. Turning toward him, he had his arms open waiting for you to jump back into them. Falling right into the trap, you pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you guys,” you said, grabbing both of them by the arm, giving them a small shake. “Keep it a secret, yeah? No telling boyfriends.” You narrowed your eyes and pointed at them playfully. 

Namjoon lowered his head with a chuckle and raised his glass in promise. Jungkook rolled his eyes and took a large gulp from his glass. “What boyfriend?” 

“Oh, come on,” you sang, tilting your head to the side. Jungkook settled his gaze on the party, eyes scanning the room with, you now notice, anticipation. “Kookie, don't do that to yourself.”

After another swig of his drink he twisted around to face the bar and smirked. “Promise I’m not a masochist… Even though he’s already got a song.”

“Hon-naaay!” Jimin’s high pitched, full of energy, singsongy voice flooded the air. Jungkook shot you a look over his shoulder as you pouted your lips at the same time.

Shooting your best smile at a now blonde Jimin you opened your arms, ready for him to fall into them dramatically as he would, but he stopped short. His own smile faded on his lips, to something soft while he looked you over, and it was like you could see the gears turning in his head. He held a glass of champagne in a Golden glass in one hand and the other found sanctuary on his hip.

“Hi, pretty,” you said in a voice you would use while talking to Dae. Jimin didn’t crack, he was honed in on you. Dropping your arms, letting them fold over your chest, you tilted your head to the side in question, though you weren’t sure you wanted, or were ready, for him to respond. 

In touch with his femininity a thousand times more than the others, the way his eyes scanned over you flipped your stomach. Jimin, like a woman, moved through his day to day like he was in touch with the moon, being guided through life by the space being without even knowing so. He made it through his days subconsciously following the twenty-eight day cycle a woman's subconsciousness was wired to.

He figured you out with one look.

Taking you in his arms tight, his head laying on top of yours, he sucked in a breath and released it with his words. “Hi, pretty.” Leaning back a bit, your lips parted to say something, but Jimin took a finger to your jaw to shut it. Then, he tapped your closed lips once and shook his head gently. He didn’t need the words.

“Taehyung not attached to you?” Namjoon asked, sipping his glass with composure, his curious eyes flickering over to Jungkook a couple times.

Jimin pulled away from you and shrugged. “He was, he probably found something better.” 

You weren’t positive, but you’re certain Jungkook mumbled, “Impossible,” under his breath.

“Sunny came with me,” you spoke up quickly to muffle anything else that would come out of the boy's mouth whether or not he had intentions of anyone hearing him. “He might be with her.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “Mmm,” he hummed, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, she was hanging around Mingyu last time I passed her.” The name spewed confidently from his mouth, a subtle look of shock something you all shared, even Jungkook.

“Tell her she won’t have any luck,” Jungkook grumbled, having not turned away from the bar once. He hasn’t looked at Jimin since he arrived over here.

Swatting your hand at his shoulder with disappointment, Jimin gave him a somber look, the empath in him you knew was hurting too. Namjoon watched the scene ensue peacefully, waiting patiently for his moment to step in, if needed. They haven’t been a proper group for months, but that didn’t mean those dynamics were erased.

“Sunny is dating somebody, Kookie,” you said. “You know that. She wouldn’t ever hurt him.”

“Jin,” Jungkook said, finally turning around. “We can say his name. Jin. They may hate talking about it, but we can. Besides, he’s been away for so long now, bet she misses him. Not surprised she’d go for the biggest guy in the room.”

“Jungkook,” Namjoon chimed in, his glare one you never wanted to be on the receiving end of. The rest of the youngests second glass, that you’ve been around for, went down easy.

“I’m just saying,” he laughed to himself.

Both you and Jimin watched him in shock. Words like that, implying what he was implying, have never come out of Jungkook, nor has he ever thought them up before. The implication that Sunny would be untrue to Jin, that one’s partner being away for an extended period of time meant that everyone acquired, or wanted to act upon these thoughts.

“What does that say about me?” you asked, looking up at him, remembering the days of when he was a mere few inches taller than you.

“What are you talking about?” he shrugged sloppily. You could feel Jimin’s gaze watching you.

“I’ve spent more time away from Yoongi our entire relationship than Sunny has from Jin in the last year or so,” you said. “And I’m about to do it for another two-ish years.” Jungkook was silent. “In fact, until Jin comes back next summer, I’ll be without all of you. So, pick someone for me, Jungkook.” The boy didn’t move. “If we’re comparing sizes, who’ve you got?” A quick glance at Jimin. “Taemin?” A quick glance at Jungkook. “Jay?”

“From Enhypen?” Namjoon chimed in again. Cringing, you looked at him for a second.

“He’s a baby, nevermind,” you muttered.

“He’s also like, six feet tall,” Namjoon chuckled.

“Oh, I know,” you tapped Jungkook’s white jacket, “Your Seventeen boy can hook me up, it’s Jeonghan right? Always has longer hair? Think he’ll be into me?” Jimin held in a laugh, turning to keep it hidden. Jungkook sighed. “I’m married, I got one kid and another on the way, let’s see how well he plays daddy, huh?” 

“Okay, I get it,” Jungkook breathed.

“Jeonghan’s got that broodiness about him, right Joon?” Glancing over your shoulder, the eldest in the vicinity nodded without entertaining you with a smile. “He’ll fulfill the stereotype, it’s perfect! Dae might not even notice it’s-“

“Okay!” Jungkook turned up the volume, a couple party goers looking his way as they passed by. “I’m sorry! Jesus Christ, Honey.”

Pressing your lips together you smoothed a hand over his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, leaning in toward him. “I get you’re hurting,” you said just for him to hear. “But you keep bleeding onto everybody else, and that’s not fair. I love you, but saying stuff like that will only hurt others. Imagine if Jin heard that. He’s been in love almost as long as you, Kookie.”

The way he looked at you put a knife through your heart. “How do I fix it?”

“A lot has changed in the last year and a half. Really fast, too.” Wrapping your arm around his, you held him close. “We’re all adjusting in our own way, it’s a really weird place to be in. I mean… I have to go home with Jeonghan now.” He cracked a laugh, thankfully.

“You guys would pair up nicely.”

“Kookie, hush,” you laughed, shaking his arm. “You’re both about to go through a bigger change, together. Even if you can’t be… together, at least you can be together.” You squinted, hoping any of that made sense to the twenty-six year old.

He started to nod, easing some of the tension settling within your chest. “I get it.” He looked at Jimin briefly, who had taken a spot beside Namjoon, the two whispering about who knows what, and you wonder if it’s related to what you’re talking about now. “I’ll be with him most of the time too, until we get to Hobi, so…”

Your eyes widened as his did. “Hobi,” you both groaned together, falling into giggles shortly after.

“You’re really gonna need each other if you have to deal with him,” you said. “He’s a drill sergeant in rehearsals, good luck with him in the military!” Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head with a laugh. “I only wish you guys would get to see more of Yoongi,” you said after a breath.

Jungkook met your eyes, then his gaze traveled to the party behind you, a small smile pricking on his lips. “We’ll still get to see him, Honey.”

Toying with a zipper on his jacket you shrugged and took a deep breath. “I know, but I mean… I wish he got to be with you guys the whole time. He was worried about…” Looking up at him you paused, pressed your lips together with a smile, then shook your head. “Nevermind.”

Jungkook didn’t push on the matter, instead he bobbed his head in understanding and then ushered you to turn around in his arms. “Surprise.”

If your heart had the possibility to burst into flames, it would’ve. Swelling within your chest, your heart rate skyrocketing beyond belief, you didn’t even have the means to gasp in utter shock. Frozen where you stood, Jungkook's hands slipping off your shoulders, the three falling into quiet giggles, you couldn’t process any of it.

Dressed in all black, down to the thick knitted beanie on top of his head and the sneakers on his feet, Yoongi, with Taehyung's arm linked in his, had the tiniest smile on his lips as he came toward you.

“I come bearing gifts!” Taehyung cheered, giving Yoongi a small push closer to you.

Words escaped you, your mind unable to string any letters together to say something to him. Instead, you tipped your head backward and burst into tears.

A laugh slipped past his lips. He knew that was coming. Following your lead, he waited for you, and when you opened your arms he fell right in, scooping you off the floor, burying his face in your neck. 

“Hey! Careful, she’s frag-…” Jungkook’s voice tapered off quickly, his focus landing elsewhere, his lips pursed nonchalantly.

His words barely registered with either of you. There was very little anyone could say or do in this moment that would take away from the man you held in your arms.

Back on your feet you wasted little time, wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close into a kiss, one long and entirely overdue.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his.

Yoongi’s gaze ate away at your face, his eyes studying you completely. “I wanted a drink,” he shrugged, and you smacked his chest with your hands, a smile corrupting you. He smirked. “Came to see my girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Don’t tell Jungkook.”

“He knows,” the youngest said from behind you. Yoongi laughed, and your heart was squeezed between your lungs, the beautiful sound warming your skin.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, you couldn’t believe that he was standing here in front of you, holding you, kissing you, smiling at you. It’d been a month and twelve days since you last saw him, since he held your daughter, and that thought fueled the tears that fell.

A month and twelve days has happened before, unfortunately a couple more days longer than this, but it made that reunion all the more sweeter. Of course that was before Dae, before marriage, so it didn’t cut as deep, but it was still hard. Holding onto him now, knowing your daughter was snug at home in the house you built together, unsure if whether or not he was able to come see her, you felt the need to squeeze him tighter, like your grip around him would keep him stuck here forever, and they’d never be able to take him again. 

Wiping the tears off of your cheeks with his thumbs, he kissed the tip of your nose and tried to twist you in his arms so you could both face your friends, but you wouldn’t budge. Laying your head on his chest as he tried to move, you heard him huff a laugh toward you trying to occupy the same space as him.

Your subconscious was screaming at you. The inner workings of your natural biology, your primal instincts if you will, were firing off like crazy, keeping you latched onto him. You needed him. And not in the way one would assume.

You needed his attention. You needed his care. You needed his protection, his energy, his love, his support.

Most reunions looked something like this, you and Yoongi unable to take your hands off one another, but this one was different. You were clingy, nearly shutting off your brain entirely because he was in the room and you didn’t need to do any of the thinking. The party became a distant noise to you, something you weren’t even worried about anymore, same for your friends behind you.

You felt Yoongi looking down at you, and when you tipped your chin up to meet his knowing gaze, the way you bat your eyelashes had him whisking you away to someplace quiet, a different room vacant of all people. He found a couch in the dimly lit room, a sitting area formed in front of a smaller, empty bar. Sitting you beside him, he smiled as you tried to crawl into his lap.

“Hi,” he whispered in the quiet, brushing his fingers over your cheek. Your arms found their way around his neck again.

Your gaze danced about his face, taking in every inch, every little imperfection, memorizing more so than you already have. “Hi,” you whispered back. The two of you watched one another for a minute, the music from the main party room thumping against the walls, laughter and happy chatter ringing just below it. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he said without missing a beat. “Dae’s not here, right?”

Gulping, you nodded. “She’s at home,” you mumbled. “Can you come see her?”

Yoongi flattened his lips. “I dunno.”

Your grip around him tightened. “S’okay,” you tried to smile. “She asks for you everyday.” Tears welled in his eyes, ones he blinked away. “When we’re not listening to 3D she asks for your songs.”

“3D,” Yoongi groaned, rolling his head back against your arms. “Still?”

“Still,” you deadpanned, and once he caught a look at you, you both broke into a laugh. “I gave him a talk, don’t worry.”

Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing gets through his head now, Park scrambled it all up.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “They’ll be okay, though. I hope.”

Yoongi’s nod was solemn before he drug a finger beneath your jaw. “How ‘bout you? You okay?” The bad electricity sparkled in your veins, enough of a twinge to make you shift on his lap.

“I’m okay,” you said without an ounce of confidence. His smile was slick, his fingers dragging down the side of your neck now.

“Why you gonna lie?”

“I’m not,” your half shrug didn’t convince him.

Narrowing his eyes, his gaze somehow softened at the same time. “Honey,” he crooned, his voice like velvet. “Talk to me.”

“I’m…” You were hesitant, cutting yourself short right when the words were about to tumble out of you full force. He waited patiently. Swallowing the lump that lodged in your throat, hoping to ease the nausea that started to fester within you, you nodded, small, and whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

His expression didn’t change, didn’t falter, didn’t exhibit any signs of any other emotion other than patience. He only managed to whisper, “Yes you are.”

Your brows plummeted. “Who opened their mouth?”

Yoongi massaged the back of your neck with his fingers, sighing. “No one, Honey, it’s just…” he glanced between you, gesturing to how close you were to him. “You only get like this when you’re carrying one of my kids.”

Blinking, you purse your lips. “Do not.”

He laughed, bobbing his head. “Do to, it’s happened twice before.”

The words turned your skin to ice, Yoongi taking note of the utter fear that washed over you. Sliding his hand over the back of your head, he laid you on his shoulder, pressing his cheek to your forehead, taking a long deep breath. For a few minutes you both relished in the quiet, admiring the party from afar, the touch of one another enough to clearly communicate what you were both feeling.

Nobody knew what had happened in detail aside from Sunny and the boys. Branson knew bits and pieces, he was around for that week, helping to take care of Dae and the house if nobody else was able to. Not one of them talked about it. Even if you were to bring it up somehow, they didn’t linger on the topic long. It was for you and Yoongi to discuss, to share, to have. He was your son, you were the only two to ever know him.

“You don’t wanna know what I’ve thought about already,” you said. Yoongi gave your head a gentle scratch.

“Probably the same things I’m thinking right now,” he whispered. Looking up at him, his face still radiated patience, a calmness that radiated to you, though you could see the worries spinning inside his head. Curious about it all, you know you might not need to hear it. The one thought that gutted you both… He wouldn’t be here this time. “Mother fucker,” he mumbled, shifting his focus to you.

“Let me hear it,” you said.

“No, it’s just…” He collected his thoughts for a second, a laugh escaping him. “How is it this possible that we’ve got such… exquisite timing?!” He started to make you laugh. “You’d think by thirty we’d have it figured out, right? What’s wrong with us, babe!” Giggles galore. “At twenty-seven, the proposal planned, did it happen? Nope! Global pandemic and major surgery. Twenty-eight, my third album almost done, your projects lined up waiting for you, did they happen? Nope! We had a baby instead. Twenty-nine… You somehow say yes to marrying me. I think, finally, we’ll plan the wedding of your dreams. Did it happen?”

“Yes,” you chimed in, watching him in awe. He shot you a small smile with a wink.

“Thanks for that,” he breathed. “But, then the hiatus came, and the lawyers for the restraining order, and Dae turned one, and you were pregnant again, and I knew the announcement was coming after the Busan show, and…”

“And then we got married,” you said, sitting up to hold his face between your hands, delicately dancing your thumbs over his cheeks. “Saturday, November fifth. The most perfect day that happened a year ago, tomorrow.” He smiled, his cheeks squishing in your grip. “The trees were yellow, and orange, and bright and beautiful. The breeze held off until we finally kissed, making sure our guests were warmed by the sun before Autumn made an appearance.”

“Dae pulled the bow out of her hair during our vows,” he said, and you both laughed. 

“She is her mothers daughter,” you raised your eyebrows with pride. “I warned Sunny, I really did.” His smile settled, eyes gleaming with a sappiness that tugged at your tears. “It was the most wonderful day, D. Everyone was there, even your little boy.” A sudden breath shot through you. “Then, yanno, Jin left, and we had a month or so to pull ourselves together before I was thrown to the wolves.”

“It wasn’t enough time,” he muttered, and you nodded.

“I agree,” you whispered. “But, we made it. And after Hobi left we went on tour, and fuck, D, talk about the most amazing three months.”

“That really was the best,” he grinned. “Having you both there with me, jeez.” A happy roll of his eyes made you smile back at him. 

“Dae had more fun than either of us,” you scoffed.

“She sure did,” Yoongi said. “Remember the show Hope and Jin came to?”

“Of course I do,” you said. “That was the last one.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, a longing look spreading to his eyes. Questioning him with a small sound, he smirked. “It’s just… that show, that night… I thought, this is it. Thirty years of my life and I’ve got everything I’ve always dreamed of, everything I’ve always wanted, everything I could possibly need. You, Dae, the boys, Army… You.”

The tears were falling now, you could feel them.

“After everything we’ve been through, all that life has thrown at us- no, catapulted at us,” you both shared a laugh, “Onstage, I couldn’t help but realize, and recognize… Holy shit, we made it.” He wiped your tears, kissing your cheek. “And, I don’t give a fuck, Honey, we’ll make it again. And again. And again, goddammit. Unbelievably bad, shitty, fucked up timing is who we are. Since the start. July sixteenth, twenty fifteen.”

“A New York curb,” you whispered.

Yoongi beamed. “A dangerous New York curb,” he snickered. “Making people fall in love and shit?” A laugh came out of you within a breath, only Yoongi able to make you laugh and cry at the same time.

“Namjoon said something earlier,” you sniffled, taking his hands within your own. “Like what you just said, how the timing isn’t ideal, but that’s who we are. That this is right on point.” 

Yoongi let your words sink in, let his leader's words sink in, comforting him the same way they did you. “He’s right. He’s always right.”

“Unfortunately,” you joked and he cackled. “The only thing that’s keeping me from going totally insane is knowing that by June Jin will be here. Regardless of what schedules he’ll be involved with, if any, he’ll be here. Accessible.”

“That makes me feel better, too,” he sighed, then licked his lips. “How… How far are you? Do you know? When did you find out?” The questions tumbled out of him at lightning speed, each answer you had for him getting lost between each one.

After a giggle, you said, “October eleventh, I found out. Dae was dancing around our room, she left me to do it all alone, the stinker. 3D is more important to her, I guess.” Yoongi scoffed. “I wasn’t feeling so good, thought it was just leftover nerves after you leaving, thought I was late for the same reasons, but when I checked I was really late, so I took the test just to be safe. There were no hopes up or anything, no nerves because I really didn’t think it’d be positive…”

Yoongi listened with intent. “Didn’t think it would be, or didn’t want it to be?” He asked you genuinely, no discomfort wrapped around the question at all.

“I kept thinking… if this is positive, then what the actual hell am I going to do?” He nodded, his hands holding you carefully. “We didn’t say what we’d do, because we didn’t think this would happen. D, we need to start putting together plans ‘cause at this point I’m starting to think you could sneeze on me and I’d get pregnant, and if timing isn’t our thing then we need to be prepared for it all.”

Swiping his thumb over your lips he smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?” Giving you the smallest kiss, he said, “We could plan out every last little detail, babe, and I can ensure you, somehow, someway, the universe would laugh in our faces. Loud.”

He was right. Even on the day of your wedding, the most planned out day of your life, things went askew. The birth of your daughter didn’t go to plan, that entire fiasco turned into a legitimate emergency. You could have every detail splayed out, even the fine writing between the lines, and life would find a way to toss the cue cards in the air, laughing as it did. 

“This is a blessing,” Yoongi said, his voice shifting to something soft. “And, entirely on time for us, as fucked as that may sound.”

“It does make sense, doesn’t it,” you agreed. Sitting here with him, reviewing your lives, this brand new little one seemed to fit right into the insanity. The tiniest spark of hope ignited inside of you, one that you were nervous to share with your husband, but you were certain that he could feel it too. 

You both wanted a second child, you wanted Dae to have a sibling, a sister or a brother. The two of you realized during your first pregnancy and throughout Dae’s first year of life that you wanted multiple, more than two. However, after the last year you were content with just one more. If there were anymore to follow, so be it, but this second one was a must.

Deep within both of you you knew that this child would be your third, and that would be something you held close to your heart for the rest of your lives, letting Dae and your future children know that they once had a brother who loved them too much that he had to find solace within the clouds, so he could watch over and protect his family.

Yoongi nodded, slowly, knowing exactly what was going through your mind. As a tear slipped down his cheek he threw his arms around you and rocked side to side, pressing a hundred kisses to your shoulder. His lips traveled up your neck, making you giggle, until they found your lips, kissing you slowly, drinking this moment up, the both of you wishing you could drown in it. 

“An August baby,” Yoongi whispered, pulling from you with a breath. You smiled.

“An August baby,” you repeated. “The end of summer’s gonna get real busy for us.” Yoongi’s smile grew, it grew so big he had to laugh.

“Oh my god,” he exhaled, his words barely audible. He kissed you, and then he kissed you again. “I love you so much.”

Letting your hand fall down to his left shoulder, you gave him the gentlest squeeze, and smiled. “I love you too, D.”

VEGAS TAGS! <3

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[hometoursandotherstuff]

I'm not usually one to go for modern construction, but this house, built in 1982, is impressive. My own house was built in 1986 and looked nothing like this. It looked old and dated. This Atlanta, Georgia home has 4bds, 4.5ba, and has the best of both worlds- it's modern, renovated, and you can make it look historic. Asking $1.6M. No HOA.

Imagine your guests coming up the long driveway and the massive front entrance.

They enter thru your double front doors to a lovely entry hall. In front of them are sweeping stairs and a curving mezzanine. There's an archway and look at the perspective they get of the other rooms off to the right.

Is this not gorgeous? Beautiful crown molding, dramatic fireplace. Okay, the wood isn't carved, it's plaster, but some older houses have plaster.

Look at the details in the ceiling. This is so beautiful and it's not an historic home. If it was, it would cost a fortune.

The kitchen opens up right to this room. I don't know, is this the dining room? It looks like a grand ballroom.

I thought that this was the dining room, unless it's for less formal dining. All these rooms have doors to the garden and I'm so glad that they're not painted gray.

Check out the bar.

Look at the ceiling in this family room. Fireplace, w/a hanger above, so all you do is put up your flat screen and you're good to go.

Here's the kitchen looking right out into the "ball room."

Very large. I would need a backsplash, though. I don't see an exhaust hood for the cooktop. And, it's missing the cover for the light fixture.

It's beautiful up here. I didn't realize that you can see into the ball room below. Love the curved railing and the ceiling.

This looks like the main bedroom. Look at the lovely architecture.

Such a large bathroom.

The only tile is in the shower.

Walk-in closet is small by usual standards. Maybe it's just one of two.

Here's a secondary bedroom. They're pretty big. Look at the size of this room and it has a big en-suite.

Wow, look at the cool brick fireplace in the ground floor rec room.

There's another room and bath on this floor.

Wow, marble floor around the beautiful pool.

Grassy area look at the brick walls.

The large garage looks like it has an apt. in it, too. There's an acre of land.

[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.

[wordsandshawn]

Midnight Drive

Here’s some fluff that has been sitting half-finished in my drafts for what feels like forever. I really like how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy!

|| message me || masterlist ||

word count: 1.5k 

The kind of tired you’ve experienced over the last six months since the twins were born is the type of tired you had never experienced before in your life. It’s the type of tired you didn’t think it was possible to feel. Pulling all-nighters to study for exams or staying up all night because of jet lag doesn’t even come close to the kind of exhaustion you feel now. 

Shawn took the first few months off after the twins were born, but he went back on the road when the twins were three months old. You’ve spent time on and off with him on the road because you and Shawn agreed that you wanted to keep your family together as much as possible. 

However, after a month on the road with the twins, you and Shawn decided together that it would best for you to return home and for him to finish out the next couple of months on his own. Traveling with the twins was more difficult than either of you imagined or could have predicted and it was taking its toll on both you and Shawn. With his attention divided between being a husband and father, helping you with the kids and also being a performer and putting on a show every night, it was affecting his performance in both areas. 

So after a rough month of traveling that wasn’t good for anyone, you and the twins returned home to Toronto. Shawn has come back home as much as he possibly could in order to be with you and spend time with the babies, but it still feels like he’s rarely ever home. You have your family’s support and Shawn’s family’s as well, but everyone has their own lives and jobs, and you could never ask them to drop it all to help you with the babies. 

You and Shawn have discussed the possibility of hiring a nanny, but you haven’t found the right person yet, meaning it has mostly been you and your twins for the past few months with the occassional visits from family members, and Shawn’s short breaks at home. 

Its nearing one am, and both babies appear to be wide awake for a reason you can’t quite comprehend. Both have just eaten and had their diaper’s changed/ You’re exhausted, but the decision basically makes itself when neither baby appears to be going to sleep. You don’t want to wake up Shawn, since he just got home last night, and he has to be feeling pretty jetlagged and exhausted himself. Trying to keep them as quiet as possible, you strap both babies into their infant car seats, hushing them and quietly talking to them the entire time, hoping they’ll be tired enough to sleep soon. You’re almost out the door when Shawn comes padding down the stairs. He seems only half awake, but he must have woken up, noticed you weren’t in bed, and come searching for you. When he sees the babies in their carseats, he seems to be more alert. 

“What’s going on?” He questions, rubbing his eyes then yawning. 

“I’m taking them for a drive.” You respond. 

“Now?” He questions, his eyes widening.

You just shrug, this isn’t the first middle of the night excursion the three of you have been on and you’re nearly certain it won’t be the last. Shawn knows that you sometimes take the twins out for drives when they’re fussy or won’t go to sleep because it’s one of the only things that actually calms them both down and almost always puts them right to sleep. He just didn’t know so much that you do it in the middle of the night like this. 

“Yeah, they’re wide awake and I can’t get them both down at once. It’s easier to take a drive. I got it Shawn, go back to sleep.” You say, putting both carseats back on the ground before closing the space between you and Shawn to hug him briefly. 

He hugs you back, but when he lets go, he doesn’t turn to walk back upstairs like you expected. Instead, he grabs the carseats, “I’ll take them, you go back to sleep.” He says determined. 

“No, it’s okay, Shawn.” You try to argue. 

He pauses for a second, the two of you, both tired just standing there at the foot of the stairs. “We can both go?” He offers, adding, “I’ll drive.” 

The suggestion sounds nice, so you immediately agree. Five minutes later, Shawn is backing out of the garage, both babies safely strapped into their carseats, and you get comfortable in the passenger seat, admiring your husband and hoping the babies fall asleep soon. 

Shawn turns the radio down so only soft sounds are coming through the speakers. The predictable movement of the car serves to not only lull the babies to sleep, but you find yourself dozing off as well. 

You’re not sure how much time passes, but you open your eyes with the intention of checking on the babies and telling Shawn its time to head back home, when you notice Shawn turning into a parking lot of a fast food restaurant. 

“What are you doing?” You question. 

He startles a bit, not realizing you had woken up, before saying, “I thought you were sleeping.” He pulls the car into the drive-thru lane that has only one car in it. You can only assume it is full of drunk and/or high college kids since the University isn’t far from here. You remember when that was you and your friends, but it feels like a lifetime ago now. 

“Remember when I first got my license.” Shawn reminisces. 

A smile crosses your face remembering being sixteen, but it turns into a frown. “And then you left for LA the next day.” You respond. 

Shawn smiles, shaking his head a bit. “Yeah, but when I got back. Do you remember that?” He persists, trying to jog your memory, to see if you still remember.

You can’t stop the smile that crosses your face. Of course you remember. “I don’t think my parents know about that to this day,” You shake your head at the thought of being a teenager and Shawn showing up at your house in the middle of the night because his flight got back late, after your curfew on a school night, so you weren’t supposed to see him until the next day.

It wsa close to one am when Shawn texted you saying he was outside, and he just really wanted to see you. Practically giddy with anticipation of finally getting to see your boyfriend again after two weeks, which felt like a lifetime back then, you snuck out, got into Shawn’s brand new jeep, and he took you through a drive-thru where he bought you french fries and ice cream. 

The car in front of you moves forward, and you glance into the backseat to see your twins both fast asleep. Shawn rolls down his window and orders a large fries and two ice cream cones. He asks for an extra cup on the side knowing about your strange way of eating ice cream, and then he turns to you, asking, “Do you want anything else?” 

You shake your head and he turns back to the screen, “That’s it. Thank you.” He tells the cashier. She lets him know the total, and he starts driving forward, pulling his wallet from his pocket. 

After Shawn pulls out of the drive thru, the bag with the fries in the console between you two, and you holding the two icecream cones, he parks the car in the parking lot on the side of the building. Both you and Shawn know that you could easily go back to the home you now share, with no threat of waiting parents to bust you for breaking curfew or to tell Shawn to go home, but instead, the two of you sit in the car, your two babies fast asleep in the backseat, reliving what had become your tradition back in high school whenever Shawn returned home from a trip. 

Once you got older and had more freedom, you stopped sneaking out to see Shawn in the middle of the night. And for the past few years, you only had to roll over in bed to be closer to him. You don’t even remember the last time you did this. It was definitely long before the twins were born, maybe even before you got married. 

Shawn hands you a spoon from the bag with the fries and you take it, moving some of the ice cream from the cone into the cup and then eating from the cone. Shawn just shakes his head a bit at your weird habit, but he still smiles. You and Shawn eat the ice cream and fries, quietly talking so you won’t wake up the kids. So much has changed since the two of you used to do this together, but you’re still every bit as in love with Shawn now as you were back them when you’d risk being grounded for breaking curfew if it meant you got a few stolen moments together. 

[lyricalimerence]

Colorful Consequences - JJ Maybank

summary: jj dyes his hair after losing a bet

word count: 1718

warnings: a little swearing, just friendship fluff

a/n: this is so cute don't even look at me + and this is for @maybanktho for the concept prompt

*this is how i imagine the color, but he just dyes the fringe/front part of his hair*

It all started with a bet—as most things do between you and JJ. There had to be a prize and a consequence, it was just your friendship dynamic. You two became friends through a competition he set in the fourth grade during recess. You both played on the field, juggling half pumped up soccer balls and booting them into opposite goals, not wanting to get in each other's way. Until he kicked his soccer ball into your goal on purpose, proposing a bet that he could sink a goal from farther away than you could. However, much to his ten-year-old chagrin, you won. He had to eat a hot dog from the cafeteria the next day—the hot dogs were chalky and an abnormal color. You, however, got to be one of his best friends for life. He would say that he got the winning end of that bet in the end, having you by his side for the past six years outweighed the stomachache he had after eating that hotdog.

This time, it was a surfing bet, and, as were getting gloriously used to, you won. His punishment was he had to dye his hair, and your prize was you choosing the color. A schedule wasn’t set for the day you had to become his personal hairdresser, so you were going about your Saturday morning as usual—half hungover and asleep on your couch, not having gotten to your bedroom before passing out the night prior. Your parents were nowhere to be found, probably on the mainland having affairs with rich people for money, or something along those lines—you didn’t particularly care anymore.

The familiar knocking pattern of JJ Maybank, your best friend, slammed into your eyes, almost abrasively as your head throbbed from the alcohol you consumed last night. Once you collected your thoughts together, you were surprised JJ was awake, not being the “up-and-at-em” type in the slightest.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself off the couch, the crick in your neck loosening as you stretched.

“You look like shit, Y/N,” JJ announced, leaning against the doorframe as you wiped the sleep from your hardly open eyes.

“Thanks for noticing, Sherlock,” you smiled wryly, pushing the hair from your fringe falling over your face. “What’re you doing here? And why are you handling your alcohol so much better than me?”

JJ walked past you, patting your shoulder as he entered your small house, the homey decor and familiar scent of fresh cookies and linen febreze inviting him in with as much vigor as you did the first time he came to your home. “Today is the day, my friend. And, in regards to the whole hungover deal, I so happen to not be a lightweight, unlike some…” he trailed off to glance at your slouched frame, the cuffs of your paper bag denim jeans bunched up around your shins, and the thick strapped tank from Pelican Marina that you chopped the bottom off of, was pushed up around the band of your bra. Normally, you’d be self conscious of how much of your torso was on display, but you were feeling like a dead squirrel, and it wasn't like JJ hadn't seen you in a bikini almost everyday.

Moving towards the couch to refold the blanket you had knocked onto yourself before you fell asleep, you asked, with an increasing amount of pep and clarity, “Today is the day for what?”

“I’m glad you asked, Y/N! You're dying my hair today. Get ready so we can go to the store.” He seemed a bit nervous, his hand instinctively going to the blond pieces of hair that fell as fringe over his forehead. A goofy smile spread across your face as his words sunk in, the leftover cranky drunkenness fading away as you almost jumped in the air as you ran to your bathroom to get ready.

Once you got out of the shower and changed into a t-shirt and shorts, you met JJ back in your family room, his eyes glued to the phone screen in his hand, his eyes tracing over the photo he was looking at. His phone was open to a picture Kie took of you two on the HMS, having been in the midst of a shotgunning competition. Your hair fell in waves, from your ears down it was a light teal color, matching the oceanic background. JJ zoomed in on the picture, scrolling between the bright, superficial hair color to his photographed blond locks. “Hey!” You made him jump, as you leant against the back of the sofa, looking over his shoulder.

“I was thinking this color?” He sounded a little unsure, but as a hair dying veteran, you knew it was just virgin hair jitters. You took pride in having watched enough Brad Mondo, making you think you could do his hair just as well as a hairdresser.

You reached over, swiping so the camera app was open, and you maneuvered your ponytail to lay over his forehead, the pastel turquoise color of your hair covering most of his face, “I think ya look great.”

He jumped off the couch, grumbling about you being a total dork, and to just get the damn car keys. Having completely sobered up, you grabbed the keys to your old pickup truck and all but skipped out the door. JJ, being blond, had such good hair for dying. You had wondered what he’d look like with crazy colored locks multiple times, he had just never agreed until you won the bet.

Once you two had arrived at the store, a wave of air conditioning hit you, pricking at your bare legs and arms. Having been very acquainted with the beauty supply store, you walked straight to the aisle of hair dye, JJ following cluelessly in your wake. The lanyard holding your keychain was tucked in your denim short’s pocket, the ribbon loop brushing your knee as you bent down to pick up a mixing bowl and color application brushes. You looked towards JJ who was watching you with stitched together eyebrows and evident confusion. “These are semi-permanent colors,” you pointed to a section of the shelves, bottles and tubes or paint like hair dyes sprawling out in front of JJ. “Your hair is light enough that it won’t need bleach… so how long are you committed to this merman look, ya think?”

JJ turned his head to look at you, his eyes lazily gazing at your dimpled smile. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“As you should!” A laugh bounced from your lips as you nodded, pulling two bottles from the shelf of semi-permanent colors, knowing he’d want to be able to change it at some point. “I used this dye for my hair, if that’s what you want.” He nodded and took the bottle from your hand, staring at it with optimistic intrigue. “C’mon,” you motioned for him to follow you to the checkout line where you two split the bill and you teased him with the cashier with whom you were familiar.

Once you drove JJ back to your house—after going through the McDonald’s drive thru because JJ was hungry—you rummaged through your bathroom, stains of pinks, greens, blues, purples, reds, oranges, and blacks danced along the edge of your sink and shower from your previous dye jobs. You threw a blue towel at JJ to wrap around his shoulders, knocking a french fry out of his hand. “Hey, I was eating that.”

You mock pouted at his indignation but stayed silent so you could pour some of the dye into the mixing bowl. Before slipping on plastic gloves, you sectioned out JJ’s hair with old butterfly clips and barrettes he used to make fun of you for wearing in the sixth grade, claiming you were too grown up for hair clips. Although, he was owning the look now, pretending to flip his fringe sassily before you peeled the strands of blond off his forehead.

JJ was swiping through his phone, looking for Spotify before putting on his playlist and drumming on the counter with his fingers to the beat. You had to hold his head still multiple times with one hand, your other hand otherwise occupied with a brush filled with hair dye. Once he calmed down, you started brushing the color on the ends of his fringe, following the sections you had created. By the time you had finished and worked the dye to the roots of his fringe you handed him a mirror. “Whatcha think?”

He stared at the mirror like he was looking at a foreign object. “I mean I like it… Do you think we could stop here, just dye the front pieces?”

You hummed in response, grabbing the now empty plastic bag from the store and tying it just over his hair to incubate it with heat. “Okay, now we wait for thirty minutes.”

“Let's watch Avatar the Last Airbender.” JJ suggested, as you two walked into the main hallway of your small house on The Cut. Responding with a short word of agreement, you watched JJ jump over the couch to sit on it, aiming the remote at the screen.

After your phone beeped, signaling the end of thirty minutes, you had to tear JJ away from the TV, him having become engrossed by Aang’s adventures. Somehow you managed to rinse his hair out in the basin of your shower, adding to the colorful splotches on the rim. He complained about the water being cold then when you warmed it up, he cupped his hand under the faucet and splashed you with it.

Using all your self control, you extinguished the beginnings of a water fight in your bathroom and rinsed all the dye from JJ’s hair.

Shaking his hair like a wet dog, water droplets flying at you, JJ haphazardly dried his hair before looking in the mirror. “Wait, that's actually so good.”

“Really?” You asked through a grin, excited he liked the color. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and squeezed you into his side.

“Yeah, it's awesome, Y/N!” He let go of you just to grab your hand and pull you through your house, “Let’s go show the others.”

Another bet he lost with more than optimal consequences.

tags - click here if you'd like to be added

@ilovejjmaybank @thelocalpogue @calumbroutledge @drew-starkey @jayjaymaebank @prejudic3 @anonymous0writer @rudys-pankow @lovingxjj @apoguecalledjj @write-from-the-heart @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @insanitysparkles @bxllasanosa @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @beatement-l @outerbanksbro @abigailpankow @popcsheyward @mahleeyuh @queenofthebees003 @kaitieskidmore1 @copper-boom @starlightstarkey @joyfulfrappuccino @king-ronnoc @ultranikilove

[aespawpaq]

Netflix and Chill (3)

IMAX and CLIMAX

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon 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;  sh is an avid history channel viewer, sh hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, sh 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

Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon’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.

Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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 Isa swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Isa, 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 Sunghoon picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Sunghoon’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 Sunghoon invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoonie 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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon, 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 Sunghoon’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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon’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. Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Sunghoon’s house were either  the result of Sunghoon picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Sunghoon 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.

“ Sunghoon?” 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 Sunghoon 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, hoon, 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. “Heeseung would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon’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.

Sunghoon 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. “hoon, 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 Sunghoon’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?”

Sunghoon 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?”

Sunghoon 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.

Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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.

Sunghoon 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— Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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,” Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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.

Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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, Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon, you always came first. Sunghoon’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, Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon’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. Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

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

Sunghoon 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. “ Sunghoon—“

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 Sunghoon.

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. Sunghoon’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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon, 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 Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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.

Sunghoon 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.

Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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, Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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, Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon‘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 Sunghoon, 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 Sunghoon 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, Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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.

Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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. “hoon!” 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 Sunghoon’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Sunghoon 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. “ Sunghoon, 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, Sunghoon 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.

Sunghoon 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,” Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon’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 Sunghoon 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, Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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?” Sunghoon 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, Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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. “hoon— Sunghoon!”

“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 Sunghoon 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 Park Sunghoon, maybe Isa 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, Sunghoon 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. Sunghoon 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 hoon now.”

“My… hoon,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Sunghoon 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?” Sunghoon 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 Sunghoon 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.”

Sunghoon 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.”

“Park Sunghoon,” 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, Sunghoon’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.

[loserholland]

𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞

𝟎𝟏𝟕 ➺ 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Pairing ➺  Ceo playboy!Ben Hardy x Reader

Warning ➺ nsfw towards the end of the chap, but everything else is fluff!

Word Count ➺ 1,200

Summary ➺ An arranged marriage between two polar opposites.

A/N ➺ We have come to the end of this beautiful series, I would like to thank all of you who have been here since I first uploaded the prologue and now we are here with the epilogue! I will be doing a Q&A soon so send in those questions! Thank you all so much for the love and support <3

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand , @taronxfiction , @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine , @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy

❁ 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ❁ - @financialinstability, @magicwithaknife , @xrumkugelx , @rogertaylorsblondhair, @virtualsheepeat, @hollyissuchahoe , @yourkindabrainy-ilikeit, @fsociety00da1, @lee-519 , @2ptonpt, @sherlokiantheatrenerd , @local-radical-bandit , @calumfornicationx , @softcillian, @kittysblog14 , @peach-barnes , @prettyoddbarnes  , @spideyyypeter, @adepressedstudentslife , @wowza-bowza , @stilesneedsprotection , @anamcg317 , @indescribxbl , @heinz-doofenshmirtz-official , @loveofmylifeben , @captainxmoony , @whateverbakesyourcake , @waving-thru-a-window , @benhrdy , @beerbottlesandchainsaws , @frietjemeloen , @kirket03 , @emmieliabedelia , @sabbrriiinnaa , @justinemayi , @bummmblebeee , @wolverinesbeer , @allieburakovsky , @chocolatekisses8 @i-the-fangirl, @ksqueenie, @secretsweetscollectionblog, @luvborhap

☞  Masterlist  ☜

“Arya!” Audrey called as she ran around the house being mindful of their mother who was handling an important call. The four year old giggled as she hid from her sister, a good ol’ game of hiding seek one of their favorite games to play when their parents were busy. 

The four year old entered their playroom, it was huge and filled with toys and dolls any kid could ask for. They had an indoor treehouse, Arya’s favorite hiding spot. Audrey climbed up the ladder ever so quietly before popping her head into the treehouse and smiling at her twin sister.

“I found you!” 

It was like looking in a mirror, these two girls were a blessing for Ben and (Y/N). The moment they found out they were pregnant Ben was beyond excited, the moment they found out they were having twins Ben nearly fainted.

(Y/N) had been feeling off she’d eat breakfast but couldn’t hold it down. During her meeting’s she’d get easily annoyed by the little things, and her favorite perfume she stopped using it due to the smell. Every morning it was like a routine, she’d throw up her breakfast. Finally, after a lot of convincing from Vivian she took a pregnancy test. 

It was positive.

“Ben?” (Y/N) called out as she kicked off her heels making her way towards his office space knocking lightly before walking in, he was focused on his laptop causing (Y/N) to walk over and place herself on his lap. 

“Hey lovely, did you eat yet?” she shook her head no placing her head on his shoulder, Ben shut his laptop off wrapping his arms around her waist. He had noticed she’d been a little off lately but thought it was because of work.

She lifted her head from his shoulder pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before saying, “I’m pregnant.” Ben blinked a few times comprehending what his wife has said. He hugged her tightly spinning them around his office chair causing (Y/N) to let out a loud squeal. 

“We’re gonna have a baby!”

Well babies. 

"I’m getting two heartbeats.” (Y/N) brows furrowed in confusion, two? That would be her heartbeat and the babies heartbeat right? 

“Two?” (Y/N) questioned as she watched the monitor, Dr.Lopze moved the transducer probe around her lower stomach, Ben gasped lightly taking her hand into his as he peppered kisses on the back of her hand. (Y/N) stared at the screen tears brimming her eyes, she couldn’t believe it.

“Congratulations, you’re having twins.” 

- 

From that moment the two began to think of names and breaking the news to their family. It was safe to say Alexa was filled with glee to hear she was having grandchildren and was ready to spoil them with love and gifts. 

“I like Audrey and Arya if we have girls, Arya would be spelt with a y just like Arya Stark.” (Y/N) said causing Ben to chuckle lightly, “You and game of thrones. Well, if it’s boys. Caleb and Carter.” she hummed in approval moving closer to Ben. 

“If we have a boy and a girl, I think Preston and Paris would be cute.” Ben smiled lightly leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose, he was happy and excited. He found himself talking to them every night whispering how excited he was and how much he loved them even though it hasn’t met them.

-

“Where are my princesses?” Ben called causing the twins to look at each other with glee rushing to the slide and running out to their dad, yep they were daddy’s girls. From the moment he held them in his arms, to the moment they called him dada. 

“Daddy!” Ben scooped the twins into his arms spinning them around lightly before setting them back onto their feet, “Where’s mummy?” the twins looked between one another before answering “In her office!” they grabbed onto their dad’s hand and tugged him towards the stairs. 

The question their family always asked was if the kids were going to have an accent, when they were in London the girls spoke with an english accent. When in the states they spoke with an american accent. They could tell the difference in their parents voice and I guess it had just rubbed off on them.

(Y/N) had just gotten off the phone and sighed with relief, the call had gone on for hours too long hours. She picked up her phone reading the time, “Ben must be home.” she thought slowly getting up from her seat to exit her office outside stood Ben along with the twins. She smiled brightly, just want she needed after such a long-boring phone call.

“How long were you three standing here?” (Y/N) questioned as she leaned against the door frame raising a brow at the three who stood in front of her. Arya giggled before answering “We just got here!” (Y/N) smiled taking the four year old into her arms peppering kisses onto her cheek, “Since daddy is home let’s go make dinner yeah?” Arya smiled with glee nodding her head yes.

-

Once they had gotten the twins into bed Ben and (Y/N) would usually sit outside of their balcony and talk about their day and business with a cup of wine in their hands with the bottle nearby for a refill. (Y/N) sat on Ben’s lap resting her head against his shoulder sighing lightly, “They’re gonna be five soon.. and will be going to school! I don’t know what I’ll do when they aren’t in the house.” Ben chuckled lightly pressing a kiss to her cheek, placing his glass onto the small table beside him placing his hand under her chin causing (Y/N) to pull away from his shoulder.

“You could, go shopping, have a spa day, sleep in.. or-” (Y/N) raised her brow in curiosity waiting for Ben to finish her sentence.

“Or what?”

“We could maybe make a little Ben.” he kissed her softly, the red wine had left his lips to taste like grape soda. She had been thinking about having more kids, if anything she wanted four kids total and nothing more. 

“Hm, I do think four kids would be a great.” (Y/N) admitted between kisses.

Ben chuckled lightly before pulling away lightly, “I could give you and entire football team.” (Y/N) gasped lightly hitting his chest playfully “Don’t forget who gives birth to them.” she pointed her index finger at him causing Ben to kiss it lightly.

He placed one arm behind her thighs and the other on her back standing up and walking over to their shared bedroom, (Y/N) threw her arms around his neck squealing at the sudden action. Ben kicked the balcony door shut and walked over to place (Y/N) onto the bed.

“Let’s recreate our honeymoon hm?”

(Y/N) giggled lightly smiling back at the memories, “Which? When I was in charge or when you were in charge?” Ben laid on the bed with his hands behind his head causing (Y/N) to straddle his lap. 

“Knew you’d like to have me in charge.” 

(Y/N) leaned down kissing him lightly before brushing the little hairs that fell onto his face and whispered.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[wildeheathen-blog]

Grave Robbing - Chapter One

Warnings: None for this particular chapter. Perhaps brief mentions of having a gun in ones face?

Summary: Reader gets in over her head when taking a midnight drive for ice cream.

Pairing: Sam | Plus Sized Reader

Word Count: 2,741

Chapter: 1/??

“Call 1-800-SLI-MNOW to try a thirty-day free trial of EVER SLIM Tea!” 

“Ugh…” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the remote from your bedside table and hit the power button, the screen fading to black and the babbling of the infomercial going silent. Late-night television was always a mixed bag of bad soft-core porn, diet ads and infomercials for erectile dysfunction. You had been watching reruns of Law and Order SVU but after those had ended you’d gone down a rabbit hole of bad TV. It was nearly eleven pm now and most of the ‘day time’ television channels had been replaced with order-by-phone ads. You were surprised they were still around, honestly. On a night like tonight, when even the TV was reminding you of how ‘big’ you were, you had decided that enough was enough. You were either going to commit a crime or pig out on ice cream and it didn’t take long for you to decide which.

Rolling off of your bed, you hiked the penguin printed leggings you wore up over your hips with a shimmy, huffing under your breath as a result of the action displaced one of your boobs from the too-big tank top that you wore.  “Girl just can’t win, can she?” Your words were muttered under your breath as you pulled your top off and grabbed a sports bra off of the top of your hamper of clothes that were clean -- and had been for almost a week if you were being honest with yourself. Picking the shirt you’d been wearing back up, you sniffed it and then shrugged. You’d showered that morning and it wasn’t like you’d done any strenuous exercise unless you counted running across the lawn after your cat who had wormed its way out the front door earlier that afternoon. 

“I’m just going to get ice cream, I’m not even getting out of the car.” You reassured yourself and pull the tank top back over your head, your car keys snatched off of your dresser and a quick check done in the mirror to adjust the messy bun that sat atop your head. It’d been a few days since you’d brushed your hair, but if you were being honest, the lion’s mane had a mind of its own, even with the best of discipline. “There and back. No getting out of the car. It’ll be fine!” You muttered the words once more as if to scold your anxiety into submission. You’d never liked going places on your own, especially this late at night but something had you craving ice cream from the twenty-four-hour drive through that was five miles down the road. 

Bending to give your cat a kiss on its head, you cringed as it sneezed, painting your features with saliva and cat snot. “Gee… thanks a whole lot, Gouda, I appreciate it.” 

The ten-year-old cat that was a few pounds overweight (much like yourself) simply rolled over and exposed its belly with a languid stretch. A certain trap, to be sure. Still, you took the bait and ruffled his fur, the mainecoon in him giving him enough hair that by the time you were done it looked as if he’d been electrocuted. 

“Alright, be good! Don’t be going into Olivia’s room and bothering those ferrets! You know she’s allergic to you!” You whisper-scolded your cat and gave him another pat for good measure before standing up and leaving your bedroom, a hoodie grabbed from one of the hooks on your wall on your way out. 

Making your way down the stairs of the shared townhome, your roommate (who was your exact opposite in both looks and habits) peered at you from the kitchen. She was up late meal prepping and often offered to teach you, though you would rather watch paint dry than plan any meal that involved eating kale willingly. “(Y/N)? Where are you going? It’s almost eleven-thirty. Don’t tell me you’re going to that skeevy drive through again.” Olivia’s voice was worried, and while she had always looked like she had walked out of a fitness magazine she never once judged you for your habits or your appearance. She had been your friend since middle school and while she had grown into her body, you had simply grown into your ‘baby fat’. 

“I’ll be back in like… thirty minutes tops! Promise!” You called from the entryway of the small home, your eyes scanning the various ‘live laugh love’ messages that dotted the walls. It wasn’t your idea of decor but you didn’t own the place so who were you to judge? Hearing a heavy sigh from the kitchen, you groaned and leaned against the wall. You were waiting for her to scold you about your late-night drives. Counting down in your head, you reached ‘one’ right as she appeared from the kitchen, her arms crossed over her slender chest.

“(Y/N) you’ve been going out a lot recently. I don’t really care what you do with your time as you pay all of your bills on time and keep yourself safe but it’s late out, and there was that story on the news about that girl who--”

Holding up your hand, you smiled when she paused. “Livvie, I promise, I don’t exactly fit the profile for being kidnapped. My thigh is bigger than your waist, those creeps would have a hell of a time getting me into the back of a van, especially considering my social anxiety. Puppies or candy aside, they’re not going to fool me. Besides, I’ve got my mace. Like I said, twenty minutes tops.” You knew you had won the argument when she sighed and waved a hand. 

“Fine, but if you get snatched up--”

“If I get snatched up, I promise I’ll ask the bad guys to let you know so that you can bore them to death with your top ten favorite avocado recipes, alright?” You offered her a smile when she rolled her eyes. You always had been sarcastic and now wasn’t any different. 

“Alright, alright, go, just… keep in touch if you’re going to be gone longer, alright? Cute leggings, by the way.” 

Nodding and mumbling something that sounded indicative of confirmation and ‘thanks’ combined into one word, you opened the front door and took a deep breath. Sweet freedom. You loved Olivia but you would have been lying if her health-conscious mannerisms didn’t weigh on your patience occasionally. 

Making sure the door was closed tight behind you, you jogged down the stairs and onto the cracked sidewalk that stretched out between a small, but neatly managed yard. There were garden beds to either side, raised and lush with different herbs and flowers. On either side of the chain-link gate were lawn flamingos, atop which were garden gnomes holding cats. They had been your idea and after much pestering, Olivia had relented. 

Pulling the gate shut behind you as you exited, you hit the button on the fob for your car, sighing disdainfully when the red light blipped but did nothing. The damn thing had been broken for years and yet every time you left the house you still tried to make magic happen. Manually unlocking the door to the 2001 banana yellow Toyota Celica you pulled open the door and dropped into the front seat. Fall was just around the corner and it had the nights a little frostier than usual, which meant when your ass hit the seat, you hissed and shivered.

“Dammit, Larry…” The name slipped between your teeth and you grinned, remembering where the nickname had come from. Your ex had called the car hideous and had abhorred the fact that you had named it. After your breakup, you’d gotten a custom license plate that said L30N4RD so that every time he saw you in town he’d be forced to remember you. It was spiteful, sure, but he’d cheated on you with your ex-best friend and you’d walked in on it; karma was a bitch though, and he’d ended up getting an STI from the girl he’d done the dirty with. 

Shoving the key into the ignition, you said a silent prayer and hit the gas as you started the car, a sigh of relief as the engine sputtered to life. “Thank you, Larry, for once you do something right the first time.” Backing out of the driveway you were careful to avoid Olivia’s Prius, the yellow headlights from your car basking the quiet suburban street in a dim glow. 

***

Ten minutes later you and Larry were putting down the road, the drive-through was at the other end of the small town you had lived in for the past five years and it was the only thing open this late. While the town was quiet, it was boring and it had made ‘McKreevey’s Drive-Thru” the only place worth going. Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you tried to ignore the way Larry clanked and whirred as you drove. A few more miles and you would be there and ordering your favorite sundae -- you just had to drive passed Saint Christian’s Cemetery in and you’d be home free. Ever since you had lived there the place had given you the creeps and tonight was no different. 

Turning up the radio as you drove by, you hummed and bopped your head, doing your best to ignore the way the street lights had disappeared, leaving you in the dark save for the soft glow of your car’s headlights. Another clank, followed by a shattering pop and finally a whir as your car sputtered to a stop and died on the side of the road. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now…” 

Your voice was a quiet murmur as you looked out of the windshield to see smoke rising from beneath Larry’s hood, a groan leaving your throat. “Great, this is fucking perfect. I just wanted some god damned ice cream. Pulling out your phone, you squinted as the screen lit up and then rolled your eyes as the single bar of service flipped over to roaming. 

“Really? Goddess above I hate this fucking city.” 

Pushing open the door, you shoved the seatbelt away from you and slid of your car, the flashlight on your phone illuminating the ground at your feet and showing off a thick, sticky puddle of fluid that trickled out from under Larry’s beat and battered frame. 

“I have no idea what that is Leonard, but you should be ashamed of yourself! That is disgusting!” You scolded your car as if it might suddenly become sentient and realize the mess it left you in. Instead, you were left to look around for any sign of life. On the right, there were fields upon fields of corn that swayed in the breeze. To the left, the cemetery. 

“Great. I feel like I’m in a horror movie. I’ll bet I’m about to get murdered by some hobgoblin hiding in that damned corn. Walking around the front of your car, you quickly decided on the graveyard with the reasoning that you might be able to find a live-in groundskeeper or something to at least let you borrow a phone for a cab. Using the flashlight on your phone to light the way, you stopped halfway across the sprawling plot when an orange glow of light caught your distance. 

“Oh! Maybe there is someone. Digging a grave I’ll bet. Jeez, what a shitty job. Shittier for the person going in it, I suppose.” You snorted as you caught yourself talking to yourself. It happened frequently and most of the time it was someone else that caught you, the look on their faces often worth the awkward silence. Creeping slowly closer, you were maybe ten yards away when a figure jumped out of one of the graves, his toned frame tossing a shove to the ground. 

“Figure they’d at least use a backhoe or somethin’.” You whispered under your breath and leaned against the tree. Maybe it was best to wait until they were done, as they seemed to almost be. Squinting and killing the flashlight on your phone, you watched as a second figure stepped out of the shadows, a canister of something in his hand. 

“What the…?” 

Watching as the taller figure poured something into the hole followed by the smaller one (the one who had jumped out of the hole in the first place) squirting some sort of liquid, you watched as one of them struck a match and dropped it into the grave. 

“Okay what the-- OH MY GOD!” 

Your voice rose three octaves as a plume of fire shot from the hole in the ground, followed by what could only be described as a wraith from some b-horror movie that screeched louder than any cheerleader at a pep rally who’d just seen her friends ever could, it’s spectral body engulfed in flames before disappearing into the night sky. 

“Whatthefuck?! Oh god, what the fuck… shit… fuckity shit!” 

At this point, you had forgotten all about the people by the grave and had instead focused on what had just come out of the grave. 

***

“Well, at least that’s done. It’s nice to have something nice and easy for once. Can we get out of here now? It’s cold.” Sam shivered and rubbed his hands over his bare arms. He hadn’t thought to bring a jacket. Beside him, Dean shoved the lighter fluid and salt back into the duffel bag, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder a few moments later. 

“Sammy you’re the size of a literal moose and you’re bitching because it’s cold out? Bring a jacket next-- wait, shhh.” Dean lifted a hand to his mouth when something in the distance cracked, followed by a high pitched wheezing. Looking to his brother, who shrugged, Dean pulled his gun out and stalked forward, having passed the duffel off to Sam who followed close behind. 

***

Wheezing quietly, you cursed the fact that you’d decided to get ice cream. All you wanted was something sweet and now here you were, stuck in a creepy ass cemetery with grave robbers that had just lit a corpse on fire for the fun of it! You weren’t sure what had come out of the grave afterward but you were willing to convince yourself that you were seeing things for the sake of your sanity. 

“Oh cheese on a tortilla, Gods of the gobstoppers and Nephilim of nerds ropes I swear I will never leave the house again if-- click”

Freezing solid when a very familiar sound clicked behind your ear, you slowly stood from behind the three you’d hidden behind and turned; only to come face to face with the muzzle of a handgun held by a man that looked about as happy as a hare in a field of copperheads. Swallowing thickly, you screamed as loud as you could -- a technique taught to you by Olivia. When the scream did nothing but make the male furrowed his brow deeper, you struck out with your chuck covered foot and nailed him between his legs, a fist following shortly after to meet his face with a crunch. 

“Hey Woah! Woah, miss!” The taller male behind the gun-toting one lifted his hands in mock defense as the first crumpled to the ground with a groan and a barely audible ‘sonofabitch’ that was choked from between gritted teeth. Lifting both of your hands, you prepared yourself to try and take on the colossus that had come up behind the smaller one, your (Y/E/C) eyes darting to and fro and your heart slamming against your chest. 

“I’ll kick your dick all the way to Fort Worth you creep sonuvabitch! Don’t try me! I’ll… I’ll do it… you burnt a thing and… I…. I think I’m gonna--” 

Your fear and anxiety got the best of you a moment later and you collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, your body having looked none too graceful in your penguin pants and messy bun (now complete with mud stains and leaves stuck into it, respectfully). You had seen plenty of crime shows, but never once had you seen anything about grave robbing, screaming corpses, or being an accomplice to a heinous crime. And to think, all you had wanted was some god damned ice cream.

[babybluepeaches]

Permission pt. 2 {a killmonger fic}

pt. 1   /   pt. 3

AN: Since your first wild adrenaline-filled meeting, you and Erik have been inseparable during your nightly dope deals. But tonight, you might discover a  secret side of himself he’s been hiding when your life is threatened in a deal gone awry. Stay tuned for the sex in part 3 ❤︎

....

1:27am

1 new message

Sender: Y/N

Message: “Bout to be outside.”

Erik picks up his phone and shoots back a text. Getting out of bed, as per his new nightly routine, he changes out of his pajamas into his outside clothes. After a bit of deliberation he settles on a black T-shirt and camo pants.

He had been seeing Y/N for a month now, just going with her on her nightly drop offs. He wasn’t one to keep up attached relationships, but there was something about Y/N that made him almost forget about everything. Besides the sex and free “gas”, he liked that she didn’t ask him any heavy questions, being a dealer she wasn’t too into trading personal information. When they hooked up they just drove, talked, and smoked. It seemed effortless.

Erik had to admit to himself, he liked her energy. She was cool, confident, and she didn’t have any expectations of him. This worked perfectly for Erik, who wanted nothing more but to escape the tidal wave of feelings he had been keeping at bay about his so-called family and his legacy.

Grabbing his essentials, he heads out his apartment and walks towards a black car.

….

1:36am

1 new message

Sender: Erik

Message: “Bet”

You glance at your phone before putting your car into park in front of Erik’s place.

You didn’t want to admit how much Erik Stevens had influenced you over the past couple of weeks, but it was unmistakable. The long car rides, the impromptu hook ups, you had even slept over his place a couple of times. Not to mention he influenced you into getting that single gold cap grill you always wanted. It shined in your mouth’s top row of teeth, a little dollar sign flashing when you smiled.

Hell, it helped to have his intimidating body in your passenger seat too. Your thirsty customers used to ask to sit in the back of your car. “Just to sample what you got,” they would say. Now when they lean in to check you out, they see Erik too. You’ve lost count of the times you’ve had to stop yourself from laughing at their disappointment. Sometimes Erik grabs your thigh when you’re bagging for them, or talks to you casually. With all the creepy niggas at bay, you actually started to enjoy the night. So it’s safe to say Erik became your part-time partner in crime.

….

While you were adding songs to your tidal queue, Erik opens your door and climbs in the car.

“‘Sup E,” you say, now shifting your attention to program your first address into the GPS. Before you had even glanced over, Erik’s smell and presence wafts into the car. He always smelled like sandalwood and honey. It was a small comfort, not that you would admit it.

“Wassup sis,” he said with a smile, making fun of what your underlings call you.

“You are not allowed to call me that,” you say, returning his grin and pulling off the lot.

“Damn, okay Y/N,” he says, followed by, “Where we going?”

“Melrose, Highland, some random ass place out East.”

“Dope,” Erik says, picking up your phone to add his preferred songs to your tidal queue.

You’re cruising, rapping along to X by 21 Savage. You loved to drive and Erik didn’t mind when you zoned out. Your vibe was interrupted when Erik abruptly says, “Oh my god pull in here.”

“Pull in where?” you yell over the music.

“Girl.The In-N-Out. What you think?”

You laugh and hang a left to the In-N-Out drive thru. This boy was something else.

When you drive up to order, Erik climbs in the back seat and you pull up so he can reach the mic. Erik’s upper body hangs out the window and he strokes his beard.

Licking his lips he says, “Yeah hey Cindy. Imma get a double double with 4 slices of cheese. A chocolate shake, a root beer, and a coke. Thanks.”

You hear Cindy make a remark about his 3 drinks and Erik laughs in response.

“Nah the root beer’s for my girl,” he says smiling. As he thanks Cindy and gets back in the passenger seat, you try to wipe the smile off your own face.

When Erik dips his body back in the car, you drive around to pick up the food. You pull up, Erik pays, and the In-N-Out worker hands you a small bag with 3 drinks.

Sticking your straw in your mouth you pull out of the parking lot. After a moment you propose casually, “So I’m your girl now?“

“You tryna be my girl now?” Erik returns, mimicking your casual tone.

“Only if it comes with refills,” you say, shaking your drink. Erik laughs and writes you off.

You drive around the city making your runs while Erik destroys his In-N-Out. Striking off name after name on your list, you land on the last one. Small amount of tree, they request to meet up on the East side. An easy quick one to end the night.

….

You pull up to the street you’re supposed to meet the mystery client and park, semi incognito of course. This place was no where you’ve been before.

In fact, no one was around. No old woman hobbling home from church, no old men sitting on any porches. You lean onto your stirring wheel and hold it to your chest while you peer out the windshield.

“This… Is hella sus,” you say to Erik, who’s been absorbed in a text message.

“Huh?” Erik turns off his phone screen, “You ain’t been here?”

“Nah,” after another second of scoping the neighborhood, you start digging in your backseat.

When you sit up you toss Erik one of your emergency guns.

“Stay alert,” you say, reaching for your own gun. Before you can touch it, Erik’s head snaps up and peers out your window. He squints.

“Yo is that… Lil Pump?”

Your windows are tinted but you cant mistake that gangly white frame coming towards your car.

The figure approaching your car wore a black hoodie, black baggie pants and a black shirt. All of which would be very discreet, if he wasnt also sporting greasy multicolored dreadlocks and a lollipop face tatt.

“Fuck, it’s Rare,” you groan. What was his raggedy ass doing here?

Rare showed up on the scene a few months ago as a new dealer a couple hoods over. You had always laughed at him, you couldn’t help but find his white boy thug front amusing. Once, he actually approached you and tried to get you to work some “big deals” with him. You blew his offer off with a laugh, and ever since he’s always had something cocky to say to you.

“Who?” Erik says.

“He’s a dealer. Not too fond of me,” you roll your eyes at the thought.

Rare approaches the car with a smile, signaling for you to roll your window down. You shake your head no, but he pulls up his hoodie to reveal an AR-15 rifle strapped to his torso, something strong enough to blast through the windows if you wouldn’t comply.

“Talk about overcompensation,” you mutter as you roll down the window.

“What is this? A deal?” you spit at him.

He smiles and when he gets close enough he pulls a second gun and pressing it to your temple. He coos, “Mmm, how about a set up?” smiling to reveal a whole mouth full of rainbow grillz.

You feel Erik’s body stiffen and his energy set on fire, you shoot him a quick look you hope communicates ’don’t do anything stupid.’

“I see you brought some muscle,” he says eyeing Erik, “So did I.”

Rare gestures to his cronies, which have now fanned out around the car. They’re all armed, all have ski masks covering their faces.

“Let’s go inside and make some arrangements shall we?” Rare says, as he reaches inside your car to open your door. He pulls you out and zip ties your arms around your back. Erik is getting the same treatment by the masked goons.

For a minute you’re both facing each other, and you cant help but notice Erik’s demeanor has changed completely. While he lets himself be restrained he’s as attentive as a soldier, nothing but his scowl and his lazor focus on you denotes any emotion. You see a inferno in his eyes though, even with his calm expression Erik seems dangerous.

Before you can give Erik any nonverbal reassurance, Rare is pulling you up the steps of the house by your locked arms. When filed inside one of Rare’s men pipes up.

“Uh, what should we do with him?” referring to Erik, who seems even more pissed at the sight of you being manhandled.

“Sit him down, see if he knows anything useful,” you and Rare watch Erik be tied to a chair, “if he causes any trouble, kill him,” Rare smirks and pulls you toward one of the back rooms.

Kill?

You look at Erik one last time before the door shuts. Safe to say, your world starts shaking internally.

Shit I shouldnt have dragged him into this. He has my gun though he has my gun it’s fine we’re gonna get out of this, we’re-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Rare slamming you down in your own chair.

“Oh J,” he says, shooting you your fake name while he sits across from you. “You know why they call me Rare, right?” he grins, showing off his grimey technicolored smile.

“Nah, actually I don’t,” you say. Omitting the ‘I heard that’s what they call your dick game, medium rare’ you’d love to drop on him.

“Its because ain’t nobody can do it like me,” he says, placing his elbows on his legs to lean close to you.

“So why did you lure me here?” you tilt your head and squint at him, “If you’re so rare you wouldn’t need me.”

“I don’t need you, sweetheart. I need to know where you keep your money,” he smiles and lifts your chin with his gun.

“Seriously?” you laugh, “You out already?”

“I want to make a few investments, and I got to thinking that Imma need more.”

Before you could respond, three rapid gunshots are heard from the front of the house.

“Shit.” Erik.

All rationality goes out the window, you needed to know Erik was okay. Now.

Pushing yourself away from Rare with your feet, you headbutt his gun to the ground and run out of the room with your hands still zipped behind you.

“Eri-” you begin, but stop in your tracks to see what was unfolding in front of you.

Erik hand gotten his hands free and was round house kicking a gun out of one of the guards hands. He grabs the man and uses him as a human shield to block gunshots coming from another direction.

You notice Erik appeared roughed up, his shirt had ripped at the front. His eyes were wild and his movements were unbelievably quick. You watch in awe as he threw the man he was using as the shield at the one shooting at him. While they stumbled Erik knocks their feet from under them and they tumble to the ground.

When Erik turns to face you, you feel Rare roughly yank you back by your restraints and press his gun to your head.

“It’s up to you,” he says to Erik, “Tell me all about her little operation and maybe,” he pauses with a grin, “I won’t blow her brains out.”

You could practically hear your heartbeat blasting in your eardrums.

Ba-dump

Erik’s eyes fly between you and Rare.

Ba-dump

In one swift motion, Erik grabs Rare’s hand holding the gun and pulls it away from your head, getting behind him. You move out of Rare’s arms, right in time for him to shoot wildly in Erik’s grip.

Erik releases him and raises his leg to kick him hard in the back. Rare flies into some dusty coffee tables and you’re sure he’s going to have some broken bones to attend to.

Bodies of the masked members of Rare’s crew littered the floor, and Erik was standing over them huffing. Nostrils flared and torn shirt, he was looking more wild than you’ve ever seen him.

Erik turns away from the bodies and immediately goes behind you to begin untying your arms.

Before you can thank him, you both hear police sirens in the distance and his actions freeze momentarily. Someone must have heard the gun shots and called 911.

[prorevenge]

Free 65" 4k TV, thanks for the great customer service!

In 2014 I ordered a 65” 4k TV online from a popular company, Paid about $1700 and some change for it. It was one of the first 4k TV’s available. No 4k content is available at this time but I needed a TV and it seemed like the logical choice to be ready for the future. Biggest TV yet, so big in fact that not only can you watch TV but you can get a tan at the same time from the screen, yeee ha!

Fast forward to Dec 2015. 4k Content is now available, yay! However I was not able to play 4K content on my 4k TV. WTF? After I bought my TV, the industry decided to integrate some sort of encryption called HDCP 2.2 between the media player and the TV. This new standard required the TV to have a decoder now, which my TV did not have. HDCP 2.2 is copy prevention technology designed to make it hard for someone to copy a 4k movie. Because that’s never failed with every media type in the past right? All players use HDCP 2.2 including Cable boxes and such so I could not view 4k now or in the future, ever.

First I called the company I bought it from, they said call the market place vendor, I called them and they said contact the Manufacturer. The Manufacturer is the one that told me about the new encryption requirement and there wasn’t going to be any recalls or updates available.

So I called the company I ordered it from and communicated the findings and I said I’d like a partial refund. I paid a premium for 4k and didn’t received it. Other than that I’m happy with the TV. Looking at similar TVs without 4k I averaged out the difference and suggested that amount, just a couple hundred.

I didn’t think it was fair to request an exchange or a full refund. So that’s what I asked for. Lot of phone transfers later they told me no, contact the market place vendor. I did, same thing. Went back and forth with managers and supervisors. Everyone was nice but both I and the other parties were firm where we stood.

What I was asking for I felt was pretty reasonable. I spent a few thousand a year with this vendor for over a decade, never asked for anything until now. I was shown the door.

This point I figured I’d give the law a try. Haven’t taken anyone to small claims before and don’t even know if I could take a business to one. But I figured worst case I’ll lose $100 bucks in court filing fees, could lose but gain knowledge of the system and how everything works. Cheap education is the way I looked at it.

Figured since they wouldn’t be reasonable, why should I? Now I’m seeking a full refund and keeping the TV (for my time). So I performed a couple hours of research and came up with my plan. First I sent a certified letter to the main company gave them thirty days’ notice, if I didn’t hear anything I was filling in small claims. I heard nothing.

So I stopped by the local court house because they don’t have the documents online. How I’m going to sue is all about the advertisement which states “Watch all your favorite TV and Movies in 4k!” To date I haven’t been able to do that, I can also prove I’d never be able too.

This point you’re thinking I will sue for False Advertising. That would make sense. But at least in my state that is not an item you can sue for in small claims. This is where my research came in handy. I filed for breach of contract. The contract being the advertisement stating “Watch all your favorite TV and Movies in 4k!”. That was the purchase agreement. I included my evidence and print screens of the advertisements along with my invoice.

Wasn’t sure what was going to happen. I mean the TV at this point is over a year old already. I’m sure they are going to get me on “past the return date”, which has been there position from the start on why they wouldn’t help me.

Two weeks until the hearing I received a letter from the court. I didn’t understand it entirely so I called the court house. They said the company didn’t respond to the Summons so I would not be required to show up for court. If the party did end up showing up the case wouldn’t be heard, a new court date would be set to which we would all attend. If the company doesn’t show I win by default.

I didn’t realize courts worked this way and it saved me taking time off work, how awesome!

Company never showed, I won by default. They sent an appeal a day late past the dead line, but what really sealed the deal is they forgot to sign it lol. To clarify I’m not entirely certain if that was called an appeal. The form they sent intended to force the case out of small claims and up a tier to the next level of court so they could bring in a lawyer.

To clarify some states an attorney may represent you in small claims, other states they cannot. My state you are required to represent yourself. In this case the company would have to fly a company rep out for the hearing.

I made sure to e-mail and CC all parties I communicated with thru this entire ordeal to let them know I won and asked when I would receive my check. I did that to illustrate how much a few hundred buck refund request set them back. $1700 and some change, $100 and some change for court fees, and a free 65” TV.

There was one rep I singled out because they were quite rude to me. After sending that e-mail I sent another one to that special person . I wish I could find it. But it included me standing in front of the TV with a smile in a pose like I’m show casing the TV for a sale, lol. I inserted that sucker right in the body of the e-mail to save them the task of double clicking the attachment. No response sadly.

I spoke to their legal department, after asking for my check they said an appeal was sent. I said “You sent it a day late and didn’t sign it, I won the judgment “Now what?” I was placed on hold while they checked and confirmed the fax they sent was indeed unsigned and past the cutoff date. “Oh, well send the check”.

I deposited the check using my Bank phone app. Why? So I could frame the judgment papers with the physical check in the frame. It’s been hanging on my wall since. Never thought I’d walk away with a couple thousand dollar TV for a couple of hours of work. Great trade.

Gets better. So I looked around and there was one company that makes this decryption device for this exact purpose! For people that bought 4k when it was bleeding edge and never got to use it. I think I paid like 200 bucks for it. Once it arrived I connected it and it does work! I can now use my Roki in 4k and watch 4k content, looks amazing! About a week later the company that made the decryption device HD-Fury was sued and they had to take it off their website. I was pretty lucky to get one when I did. Been going strong 3 years watching 4k Content pretty happy.

(source) (story by deleted)

[henry-hart]

Mo’ Danger, Mo’ Problems s1 ep2

this one is long, just saying. lolol I just really loved it and had a lot to say :))))))

“OK HEN’S VOICE IS DIFFERENT IN THIS EP asjlksjk guess there was time btw this one and the pilot

he’s still incredibly adorable tho

“He’s gotta fix that elevator.” ...and then he never did lolol

OKAY so 13 yr old Henry found a way across town at almost 12 at night???? NO MY SON. THAT IS DANGEROUS (also does Swellview have a bus system??? did he walk??? I need to know.)

“’Put this watch on your wrist.’ Sure. What else would I put it on???” .....

hologram Ray pretending that Hen poked his eye out askjsl

“I’m gonna contact you on this watch now.” “What do I do with the old one?” “Toss it up in the air.” “.....Why?” “It’s about to self-destruct.” “Dahhh!” *tosses watch but it doesn’t do anything* “Hmm. That’s weird It’s supposed to--” BAM lololol

Do you think they chose Puerto Rico history for Hen’s test subject bc Jace is Puerto Rican??? I mean, it’s a lil specific to be coincidence (i hope they did)

“Ah, Puerto Rico. Land of....” “Puerto Ricans???” “Right.” alakjsklj

I FORGOT ABOUT THIS EP. THIS ONE IS SO FUNNY!!!! (I’m remembering what happens later in the ep lol)

antique bottle shop named “Glass from the Past” gotta love the witty names

“Let’s blow some bubbles and fight some crime.” so I see we aren’t into lame puns yet lolol

the “awwww my boot!” line is in this ep “Up the boot! Ow!” “HA!”

“Give me that pretty lavender bottle...because it matches my motorcycle helmet.” asjdlkj you can always count on hd bad guys to be goofy “You better bubble wrap that, chump! That ain’t no good to me busted.”

soooooo Ray walks in through the front door of the shop while Hen just....kind of.....walks in from...the side??? Like, Jace literally just entered from the side of the stage/set. wowowow lol

“Kid Danger.” “Yeah.” he looks so smug ajsklsjksjlk like, “that’s right. you know who i am.”

Ray telling the robber to try hitting him again lolol “Try to keep your arm straight.” 

*robber hits him* “Strike three.” Hen pops in “That was only two...” “Okay, don’t correct me in front of the criminals.”

RAY YOU JUST THREW THE ROBBER INTO THAT MAN’S GLASS. WUT R U DOING???

“You really want to fight us?” looks at KD “Can I just fight the kid?” Hen’s all “???” lolol

“No you can’t just fight the--” “Sure he can! Come on, tough guy.” “Ok.” *puts his helmet over Hen’s head*

poor Hen is just spinning around 

golf clubs in a store that sells glass. that’s gonna end well.

“KD! Catch this golf club!” *hits Hen in the head* aksjlsjsk

CM AND KD YOU ARE NOT HELPING!!!! YOU ARE BREAKING ALL THAT POOR MAN’S GLASS!!!!

“CM! Where are you?” “Follow the sound of my voice!” *a game of Marco/Polo w/ A LOT OF GLASS BREAKING ensues*

“Would you superheroes just leave!!!!” I feel for you, man.

Ray had to stop a wild, golf club swinging Henry lolol

“Where is he??? Did I get him???” he asks, standing amidst all the glass he broke while RAY got the bad guy 

“Yeah, you got him.”

“My whole store is destroyed!” “No need to thank us.” “Thank you?” “You’re welcome.” Ray y r u lik dis

Hen’s hair is all wild from the helmet ajskjlskj

“Let’s go, KD.” “NO!!! Nobody leaves until you boys clean up all of this broken glass.”

MY POOR BB HAS TO BE UP AT 7 FOR SCHOOL. RAY YOU DID NOT NEED TO CALL HIM TO HELP YOU. YOU ENDED UP GETTING THE BAD GUY ALL BY YOURSELF. HENRY JUST BROKE MORE GLASS. LET MY SON GET HIS SLEEP!!!!

“This will only take us like....5 hrs. I’ll get u a broom!” *Hen just sinks to the floor* :(((((

Ms. Shapen just gave Hen a wet willy. aksjlksj The ever classy Sherona Shapen, ladies and gents.

CHARLOTTE IS SO TINY. EVEN THE KIDS IN THE BACK OF THE CLASS ARE SO TINY. THEY’RE. ALL. SO. TINY.

“This is what happens when you stay up all night on Twitflash and Twittlegram.” alksjskjls

poor Hen slept through his whole test (much like in my fic....hee hee)

J....y wud u want....a....wet willy???? (I love Ms. Shapen’s answering face alksjlskj)

Hen just drops back down on his desk. my son :((((

THE FIRST EVER TITLE SEQUENCE!!!!!! (last ep just had the title of the show. this one has the whole “It all just kind of happened” shebang)

“Now I protect the good citizens of Swellview.” Do you Ray? Do you?? (peep him charging ppl for that “protection” in a few years)

Hen just pouring an ENTIRE POT OF COFFEE into, as Char calls it, “a comedically large cup.” askdksjslk I fell you. I don’t drink coffee, but i. feel. you.

never get tired of these whack shows they watch on here. Natural surgery???? Surgery w/ no anesthesia??? what is that???? lolol

“You’re 13. You can’t be drinking this much coffee!!!!” “But I need it!”

concerned friends ftw

Jasp asking Hen about puberty......

“I haven’t had any dreams bc I’m not getting any sleep.” my bb...:(((

“I always have the same dream. It starts with me getting a horse for my bday. Then Jasp shows up. Then the horse kicks Jasp in the face.” “But I end up being okay, right?” “No.” her face kills me lolol

SIREN HART IS BACK ON MY SCREEN AGAIN. IT IS A BLESSED DAY.

“We’re home! Hen come help me please.” “HENRY, COME HELP YOUR MOTHER!!!” gotta love that s1 Piper

“What what what???” that’s exactly how I respond too hen alksjslkj

HEN MAKING DINNER. :’)))) I. MISS. THESE. DAYS. THE. HART. FAM. IS. MY. FAVE. AND. THEY’RE. NEVER. TOGETHER. ANYMORE. *cries*

how does one make chili balls????

“Make them spicy this time.” I love Piper so much gah

“Seriously? I’m like so busy. I don’t have time.” Ya’ll....the way he said this. he sounds so stressed.....my bb....I’m crying.

remember the days when Piper used to be anti-having Jasp in the house?? lolol I mean, she probs still is now, but she used to be a lot more vocal about it. “Aw man, Jasper’s here???” “Piper be nice.” “But Jasper’s always here. It’s NOT okay!!!”

“I’m going to the bathroom.” “Oh no, mom. Jasper’s going to use our bathroom.” ajskjslj

Piper telling on everyone as soon as her dad gets home akjslksj classic

their dad was a lot more....tolerable earlier on. I don’t mean he’s a bad character or anything. It’s just, he’s usually played for laughs now instead of being a parent. We get to see him actually parenting Hen in this ep, and it’s so nice. 

“Jasper’s using our bathroom.” “Oh jeez.” Like father like daughter kajslkj (also looks like Hen got his phrase from his dad. cute!)

“and Henry said he’s not gonna make dinner.” “What??? It’s his night!” “I’M GONNA MAKE DINNER!” leave my son alone, Jake (he’s my son. not yours.)

YAS. JAKE SITTING DOWN WITH HENRY TO GIVE HIM A NICE PARENT TALK ABOUT MS. SHAPEN CALLING HIM ABOUT HENRY’S FAILED TEST. YAS. YAS. YAS. I LOVE ME SOME HEALTHY FAMILIAL CONTENT!!!!!

“She called you at work?!?.....Ah, that’s so rude of her. God.” alksjslk nice save hen

“Do you realize how important Puerto Rican history is???” aksjlkjs I really thing they’re doing this bc of Jace. Like, I really do. 

Hen apologizing for letting his dad down :’))))

JAKE. HART. BEING. CONCERNED. FOR. HIS. SON. YASSSSS. He sees that maybe having a job is causing Hen’s grades to slip THIS is how you parent. (wish i had me a dad like that...)

you don’t get your 12 yr old daughter to drive u home from mouth surgery.....looking at you s4

“I can’t quit! My job’s a really big deal.” *puts hand on his dad’s leg* “It’s a junk shop. *moves Hen’s hand* You sweep the floors.” ajskjskjskl if only you knew

Hen’s like “I’m gonna go upstairs and study right now!” he takes off and his dad grabs him at the last second and makes him do this spin and akjsljs I just thought that was funny

“You study after you make the chili balls. And make them spicy this time.” He and Piper share this look lolol they’re so similar. it’s crazy

Hen yawning as he serves dinner :(((( he doesn’t even eat. he’s going without food AND sleep. MY SON NO!!!!

“I posted a pic, and now it has 45 comments. So now i have to comment on the comments!” “I’m about to comment on you.” asklkjskl (too tru tho Pipes)

RAYMOND. STOP FUSSING AT MY SON. HE IS TRYING HIS HARDEST. HE CAN ONLY DO SO MANY THINGS AT ONCE.

“Why aren’t you on your way over here???” “Because. I got in trouble for sleeping in class....and i had to make chili balls.” “Chili...balls?” “It was ‘my night’.”  lolol I love the way Hen says that. so snarky

Hen stretching over his bed like “I’m just gonna....” slaps himself in the face to keep up “Maybe I can just....I’m just gonna lie down. 5 minutes tops. just 5 min” before he just passes out is SUCH a mood.

Okay, Ray coming in thru hen’s window all angry in covered in sewage is HILARIOUS

like, I love this little “I’m gonna kill him” angry dance thing he does aksjlkjs

oh my god he’s waving his smell in Hen’s direction asjksjsl

“Awww what’s that smell???” “I’m that smell!”

“Well, Ray, I guess I fell asleep.” “WeLl I gUeSs I fElL aSlEeP!!!” Ray u sound like scooby-doo aksjskj

“You know what’s down in the Swellview sewer???” “....poop.” “POOP!”

omg I forgot about Pipes being suspicious of the voices in Hen’s room 

“Who are u talking to in here???” “Nobody.” “MOM!!!!!” “Aw jeez.” using his dad’s phrase :)))))

Hen blaming the smell on piper aksjlslkj

“It’s Piper.” “What???” “She hasn’t had a bath in a week.” “That’s a lie!”

“You disappointed me tonight.” “I’m disappointing everybody. People should just call me ‘Kid Disappointment’.” Hen....:((( (but the way he said the last part was really funny akjdlskj)

WHAAAATTT???? RAY WANTS HEN TO TALK TO HIM TO HELP FIGURE OUT A SOLUTIONG TO A PROBLEM???? YOU MEAN HE’S NOT BEING UNJUSTIFIABLY PARANOID OR RIDICULOUS??? HE’S NOT JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS??? HE’S NOT BREAKING THE LAW OR HARMING OTHERS OR DOUBTING HENRY’S INTEGRITY????? WHAAAATTT????

^^^^^that was a jab at the Ray we’ve seen as of late

“Time. School. Working for you. My family. It’s just a lot to handle.” TOO TRUE HENRY. TOO. FREAKING. TRUE.

“I do know a guy who can get rid of your family.” Who, Ray. Who do you know?

Ray actually wanting to fix a problem rather than make it worse. Yes.

and so begins Ray’s crush on Siren. Nice try dude. My crush began the second she was on screen. 

“Who’s this?” “My mom.” “Niiiiiiice. Is she still, uh, married to your dad, or--” “Yes.” “Does she ever seem lonely or--” “Go home, Ray.” 

“The picture, Ray.” 

aksjdklj I love that interchange.

also Hen just has this portrait of his mom in his room lolol what a momma’s boy :)))))

Jasp x Char covering for Hen even tho they have no idea what’s up ;’))))

GOOCH. MY MAN.

Henry does NOT have hepatitis Japser!!!! ajslkjslk

Gooch and Hen harmonizing those weird sounds omg lolol

“Oohloolooloooloooo--why am I doing this?!??!?!”

“Relax, kid.” “I can’t. I’ve got a huge makeup test  tomorrow. I need to study, and you guys are making me go ‘oohloolooloo’“ “It’s ‘Oohloolooloo--” “I don’t care!!!!” I LOVE sassy Henry

all studying done in 30 seconds???? Where can i get me one of these???

“It’s a cerebral data transducer--or as we call it, the HRZ.” wtf???? lolol

“Why am i locked in a chair???” Hen asking the real questions. 

the way Ray says “Puerrrrto RRRRRicoooo!” 

“Will this hurt???” “Yes.” WHAT???” lolol

okay can you imagine the now jace being as extra as this jace??? No??? I didn’t think so. lololol

“Well?” “That hurt BAAAAD!!!”

“I don’t know anything about P--” *starts spitting out random PR facts* askjljsk “Wooooaaahhhh. I know Puerto Ricoooooo.” 

the amount of times they’ve said Puerto Rico in this ep is crazy. I’m definitely convinced they did this for Jace alskjskl

“Do you think it’s cheating???” “Ehhhh.” “It’s a gray area.” GOOCH X RAY ARE MY FAVES. (i love Schwoz, but Ray x Gooch had some good chemistry.)

“I really doing this appreciate you for me.’ ASKLJDLKSJ I LOVE THIS PART OF THE EPISODE. THE SIDE EFFECTS ARE MY FAVORITE PART. 

at first, i didn’t even register that he’d switched the order of the words. I was like, “Ok, I knew what he meant, but something about it made my brain feel weird???” lololol

I wonder if Jace had a hard time getting the mixed up order right akjsksl

I love the way Ray says “Uh oh.” with his eyes closed. Like, “I knew this might happen, but I was really hoping it wouldn’t.” lksjklsj

“Well you could’ve before that you told me!!!” THESE PARTS ARE MAKING ME LAUGH SO HARD.

Henry: *screams all high-pitched* aljsklsjls I’M CACKLING

I FORGOT HOW MUCH I LOVED THIS EPISODE!!!!!!!!

“So I’m gonna girl like a days for a few screams---wait.” LOLOLOLOL

*screams again*

“.......You guys wanna get lunch?” CLASSIC Ray. (can something be classic already in the first ep??? I guess the word is vintage. VINTAGE Ray.....but those r the same thing??? I don’t know ajksjlsk)

“The Vermont army finally surrendered and fled the coconut plantations.” “Coconuts in Vermont?” askjslkj school really be like that sometimes

Jasper just doodling the whole time. ME.

“Okay everyone. Get out.” Ms. Shapen is a constant mood. lolol

“100 my makeup test on I got!!!.....I mean, I got a hundred on my makeup test???” aksjlk I love u Hen

*randomly screams* “...” “.... That was inappropriate.” “I just got excited.”I CAN’T TELL YOU HOW MUCH THIS PART MAKES ME LAUGH ALKSJKLSJ

“I’m really proud of you, Henry. I’d give you a hug if it wouldn’t get me fired.” ajsksj 

“Have a good weekend.” “Too you.” “....”

Henry said “Yeah, baby!” to Char. :))))) (I know it was just a quick thing on the fly, but it’s still cute)

“Where were you?” “I go to had somewhere.” 

ya’ll. Henry’s mix ups are KILLING me.

“One more time???” “I. had. to. go. somewhere. Nailed it.”

*randomly screams again*

CHAR’S SCARED FACE. I’M DYING.

“You later see!” ALKSJKLJSK

I LAUGHED FOR THE ENTIRETY OF THE END OF THIS EPISODE. 

I JUST REALLY LOVE THIS EPISODE. I FORGOT HOW MUCH I DID, AND IT WAS GREAT TO BE REMINDED. 

this ep had it all

tired/overworked/stressed hen and his supportive friends and fam

then there’s that GOLDEN last two minutes with the side effects

just. wow.

props to Jace for doing an incredible job

he really delivered the goofiness. love my boy :))))))

rewatching these was such a good idea <3333

[defenselesswriter]

The Wrong Side of Reality Chapter 18

here’s chapter one with links to all previous chapters. track the tag #the wrong side of reality for writing and chapter updates. on ao3 here.

After an hour of hearing his phone constantly go off, Stiles turns it off. He can’t keep seeing Derek’s name on his phone screen or even Laura’s, but especially not Derek’s. His name hurts Stiles too much. It hurts to picture his face, and it hurts to see his name on the phone screen.

It really isn’t a surprise when there’s a knock on Stiles’ window half an hour later. What is surprising is that it’s Laura.

Because he’s always had a soft spot for her, he opens the window and lets her in.

“Stiles,” she sighs and wraps him up in her arms. He lets her because he needs it. Her hands reach to the back of his head and bring it down to rest on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

And well, that’s all it takes for Stiles to cry into Laura’s shoulder. She rubs his back and runs her fingers through his hair, and it’s so comforting, but he can’t stop crying. He lost his mom. His mom is gone and was gone before she died. Her personality, her memories, they were all gone before she died. She didn’t even recognize Stiles.

He has never taken the time to realize this. “You guys could have helped,” he sobs, holding Laura closer.

“Oh, Stiles,” Laura says, her voice sounding so, so sad. “Please, let me explain. We couldn’t help your mom. She wouldn’t let us.”

That shocks him enough to pull back. “She knew?”

Laura nods. “She knew. Your dad knows.”

“I’m the last to know?”

“You weren’t old enough,” Laura tells him. “It was too much to ask of you at that age.”

That takes some of the anger out of him. Without it, he’s exhausted, so he falls into his bed. “Please explain.”

“Okay,” Laura says softly, sounding a lot like her mother. She sits at the foot of the bed and puts a hand on Stiles’ calf. “The bite can heal sickness, but your mom’s brain was too far gone by the time we realized what she had was going to kill her. If my mom had bit her, your mom would still have those days where she wouldn’t be able to recognize you, and she couldn’t live like that. She refused to put you through that. I’m sorry, Stiles. I wish we could have done more. I wish we would have realized before.”

“Do you remember the scent of her sickness?” Stiles asks, sitting up. He needs to compartmentalize right now. He needs to know all the facts before he can fall apart again. Reacting out of pure emotion wasn’t his best moment.

“No,” Laura admits, looking down. “My mom and Derek do, though. Why?” She looks back up, her face confused.

He nods and looks away. “I think I might have what she had.”

He glances at Laura, and her sad eyes is the exact reason why he looked away in the first place. He can’t handle the sadness in her eyes because he knows that his dad’s will look way worse when he finds out.

“You would have to ask my mom or Derek,” she tells him, her voice quiet. “I think it would be best to ask Derek. He’s really good at scent and....”

“And I need to tell him that it wasn’t his fault,” Stiles finishes for her. “I get that. It wasn’t his fault. He had to do what he could to protect his family.”

“And you,” Laura is quick to add. “You knowing this? It puts you at risk. There are people out there who wish to see us and anyone who ‘sympathizes’ with us dead. I don’t think Derek could survive it if you died because of us.”

That information takes the air out of Stiles’ chest like he fell hard on his back. He takes a moment to get his breathing back to normal as he processes all the information that’s running through his head. Everything in him is asking for a day to process all of this, but then he needs to know if he’s going to die soon. He needs to prepare his dad, Scott, Derek, and himself for that.

“Can you take me back to your house?” Stiles asks Laura.

She nods immediately. “Of course. Do you need a milkshake before we go?”

He breathes out a laugh. “Yes.”

She smiles and throws an arm around his shoulder, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for listening.”

He leans his head against hers, sighing out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. There’s so much tension inside of him, and Laura can probably feel it in his shoulders, but he doesn’t know how to let it go. Not yet. Not until he has all the information.

Laura follows him down the stairs and out the door to her car. He climbs after she unlocks it, and he’s silent until the reach the drive thru.

“What kind of shake?” Laura asks.

“Strawberry,” he says with a small smile.

They’re silent on the way to the house as they both sip at their shakes. Laura got chocolate because “It’s that time of the month,” she told him.

“The full moon?” he asked.

She laughed. “Not that. My period, dork.”

The tension is slowly leaking out, but the second they pull into the Hale’s driveway and he sees Derek sitting on the porch, it all comes back.

“I don’t know what to say,” Stiles whispers. “I was a jerk to him.”

“Sorry is always a good way to start,” Laura comments. “But remember, he has stuff to apologize for, too. It’s not just you in the wrong.”

He nods and takes one last sip of his shake before getting out of the car. Laura follows him out, but she walks straight into the house, running her hand over Derek’s head as she passes him.

Stiles stands in front of Derek awkwardly, chewing at his bottom lip. He doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants and apologize at the same time. He supposes the apology should come first.

“I was an asshole,” Stiles finally says.

Derek’s head snaps up, his eyes wide in shock. “No, Stiles - ”

“I was,” Stiles interrupts. “I reacted solely with my emotions, and it’s not like it wasn’t a scary situation for you either. I didn’t think about what you were going through. I was only thinking about me, and that’s not fair of me, especially when we’re in a relationship.”

“We’re in a relationship?” Derek asks, and the hope in his eyes breaks Stiles’ heart.

Stiles kneels on the step where Derek’s feet are resting, and he reaches for Derek’s face. “I’m pretty sure,” Stiles laughs, holding Derek’s face carefully. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek breathes out before closing the distance between them and kissing Stiles soundly.

Stiles lets it go on for a couple minutes, letting himself enjoy the moment and relax for a second. Then he pulls back, leaning his forehead against Derek’s. “I need you to tell me something, though.”

“Anything,” Derek promises immediately.

“Do I smell like my mom?” Stiles asks.

Derek pulls back to look at Stiles’ face with confusion. “A little, but she was family, so you will always carry her scent with you.”

“That’s actually really comforting to hear,” Stiles realizes. It’s like a part of his mom will always be with him, a part that Derek can sense for Stiles. “But that’s not what I meant. Do I smell like her sickness?”

“No,” Derek answers quickly. “You’re not sick, Stiles. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you don’t have frontotemporal dementia.”

Stiles practically falls against Derek, burying his face in his neck. All the tension is gone, and Stiles is no longer wound up, waiting for the worst possible outcome. “Thank you,” Stiles whispers.

Derek holds onto him tightly, kissing the side of his head. “I’m sorry I called you crazy,” he says quietly. “I know it was going to hurt you, and I shouldn’t have done. I needed you safe, but I hurt you in the process.”

Stiles presses a kiss to Derek’s neck. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

[pingou7]

A car, two cops and a stardust — a RebelCaptain road trip fic

by @pingou7 pingou  for @thestarbirdfromtheashes Starbird

(aka the Road trip fic Diego Luna’s filmography made me write)

Read and enjoy, and please consider leaving me a few words.

Summary:

As the dusty roads criss under Kes Dameron’s old car, Cassian Andor lets the wind mess with his hair through the open window. Dust, sunshine, laughter, its easy to recapture the taste of days long gone.

(…)

At a gas station near Corpus Chirsti, when they climb back after taking a piss, both jump out of their skins as a random brunette, eyes thunderous, hisses dangerously from the backseat:

“Just pretend I’m not here.”

UPDATE: Part 3 is up!

Note: I thank @ruby-red-inky-blue for letting me burrow the name of Cassian’s little brother from her story The World Through A Scope! Danke mein Freund.

Read on AO3 (or under the cut)

Part 3 — From Arizona to Gina’s House, San Diego, CA. Day 2

She’s whimpering incoherently, calling out to her Papa, raging about some Saw and Cassian nudges her awake before switching gears. Kes groans on the back seat, rubbing his eyes, but he holds his tongue, while, disoriented, she tries to control her breathing and toys with her necklace.

“Jyn, you’re okay?”

She nods and asks where they are — Arizona, they’re nearing Tacna, it’s close to 9AM — they’ll soon stop for breakfast. It’s Cassian’s treat, so no drive-thru this time, she could have something close to an English breakfast if she feels like it. She seems surprised by the offer, but she soon declares that’s she’s always up for a cuppa of oolong and scrambled eggs with sausage. Confirming his hypothesis about her being British, he figures that’s about as much comfort as he’s allowed to give her. Thankfully, it was the right thing to do since her shoulders aren’t so tense anymore, and she exhales.

That’s how the trio finds itself at the Ligurta Station Restaurant, in Wellton, which is precisely crowded because renowned for its breakfasts. It’s the reason why usually Cassian and the Damerons prefer to refuel before that, in Tacna. But the cops keep this to themselves as they dig in their own plates. There Kes calls home and chats a bit with a downhearted Poe — he’s sick, while Papa and Uncle Cass have fun without him… — and overall it’s nice to have good food, great company for all it’s unexpected, and to be relatively close to San Diego.

“I don’t know about you, guys, but I need the restroom.”

“Do you need us to accompany you?” Kes asks, seeing her scanning the crowd intently.

“Why, you don’t trust me to return to you?”

“Trust goes both ways,” Cassian retorts and she blinks at him.

“I’d be a fool to ditch you now, you’re the best cover I have, I’m just gonna pee.”

When she comes back and they’re ready to drive the last portion, perhaps out of defiance, she cheekily passes each arm under theirs as they exit, making Kes chuckle. Cassian remains stone-faced, but pulls himself a bit closer to her than strictly necessary, and all three walk to the car.

Eventually, after the third rotation and last three hours of driving, they arrive at lunch time in front of the house of Gina Consuelo Alvarez Cuarón. Jyn is not the only one letting out a relieved sigh, for hers was not the only countdown, though the guys — amongst endless chatter — have not evoked it, least they bring misfortune. Charolastras are superstitious creatures, perhaps, but the frailty of the happy woman welcoming them confirms they were right to hurry up.

Cassian and Jyn stand together as Kes greets the effusive lady and explains why neither Shara nor Poe are here, but things get awkward when he tries to introduce the unknown woman they came with.

“Is she your sweetheart, Cariño?” Gina asks Cassian with a serene smile.

“I’m not,” Jyn answers readily, “my name is Jyn and Cassian is… we’re friends.”

“He’s her white Knight,” Kes supplies with a shit eating grin his brother can certainly punch it right off his face.

But weirdly this explanation seems to placate the old woman — like Cassian is used to be chivalrous to every damsel that appears on the back seat of car… — and after patting his hand benevolently, she gives them their space with no further comment.

Jyn asks for the phone, of course, presumably to update her people, and both brothers turn a blind eye as they entertain their host the best they can. The woman they consider like an aunt seems mortified by the fact she did not cook them anything. They downplay it, as she is the one they went to see, not her recipes, but it’s clear that she’s worse than she’d let on, on the phone. As she asks about little Poe, Cassian sees the proud father setting his jaw remorsefully. Suddenly he’s very glad for driving as much as they did since they’ve left Corpus Christi, and not just for Jyn’s sake.

Speaking of her, through defiantly raised, her chin quivers just a little bit after her phone call. She’s quick to cover it, of course, saying a few banalities to Gina who all but beams at her, but he caught that, and Kes sent her a worried glance too. He beckons her over, and she sits besides Cassian, and while their fingers brush under the table for a few seconds, her palm is sweaty.

If only they knew what hails her, who are the people she’s hiding from, and why… the scraps of information they’ve gathered so far aren’t enough to draw any conclusions from. All through the frugal dinner, he can’t help but feel frustrated, about Jyn’s muteness, about Gina’s bad health, about Kes’ forced gaiety. He wishes Shara or even Kay were here, almost childishly, but there’s just an old woman, two cops and a fugitive.

Cassian lends the room that is supposedly his when he stays over to Jyn, and obviously has to bunk in with Kes, something they haven’t had to do — outside of work and service — since they were nineteen or so. It’s obvious neither are looking forward to that aspect of recapturing the good old days. Despite having the speaker on, Cassian feels like a third wheel as soon as Kes calls his wife:

“Hello Babe, we’ve just arrived at Gina’s, how are you both?”

“We’re fine, it’s nice to have our little man all to myself. Things went okay for you on the road?”

“Yep, don’t worry, everything’s fine, only we somewhat picked up a stray.”

Cassian mouths “whipped” to him, despite knowing Kes couldn’t have kept Jyn’s presence to himself if he valued his manhood, but his next answer made him throw is pillow at the married man anyway.

“Another dog? BB8 may be cute as hell, but the pup’s enough already.”

“No, it’s not a dog. From the looks of it, green eyes, claws, defensive attitude, it’s a wayward cat. Cassian have taken quite a fancy to her I’d say.”

“Screw you Dameron!”

The traitor is laughing so much Shara senses her husband is most likely bullshitting again and she groans:

“Guys, I told you I don’t want to play the referee between you. I’ll leave that to Kay when you’re at the precinct. Just, Cass, promise me you won’t get too scratched by this wayward cat, whoever she is.”

Now Cassian is internally cringing — of course Shara Bey-Dameron would have picked the analogy right away… — but he still agrees because these two busy-bodies and their son are the only family he has left. They may be overbearing, but he’s glad to have them looking out for him. Wanting to give them privacy, he leaves the room, regretting the fact that he’s not smoking anymore, for it would have given him something to do.

Jyn stays just on the other side of the door to their adjoining rooms. He ponders about knocking and seeing what she was up to, but then decides against it, because it would be too stalker-ish. The urges he is feeling since she appeared in the car just yesterday afternoon confuse the hell out of him and there’s no need to add substance to Kes’ suspicion of a crush, but she swings the door open anyway.

She wears a bathrobe that covers the essential and she’s so petite it dwarfs her a little. She seems surprised to see him in the corridor and it’s obvious, from the way she’s (un)clothed to the towel she holds under her arm, that she plans to take a shower in the bathroom that is two doors down.

“Oh, Cassian.”

“Hi, Jyn. Kes is on the phone, so I… wanted to give them privacy.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she replies, showing him the towel with her chin. “So, do you want to hang out a moment?”

“Really?”

He is surprised that she didn’t hesitate to offer, considering the amount of time they’ve spent together in a cramped space already. Her fingers come to touch his wrist as a welcoming gesture. Her nails are cropped short, so definitely no scratches on the horizon, then, Cassian muses, having a hard time repressing his smile. Jyn musts sense something because immediately as he enters, she says, a warning in her tone:

“It’s the least I can do, you would have this room for yourself if not for me, but I’m sure your brother is gonna barge in here soon anyway. He doesn’t like me very much.”

He doesn’t know how she got that impression. Kes didn’t sound too annoyed with Shara on the phone, then again after the cat comment, Cassian didn’t feel like sticking around. Maybe he would not have liked what his mocking brother has to say about Jyn — or about him, for that matter. Still, out of fairness, he replies:

“Kes likes everyone as a rule, you haven’t done anything to earn his distrust so far. I’m the circumspect one.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t seem cold to me,” she says, surely referring to the uncharacteristic way he came to her rescue.

“Not to you, no,” he responds huskily, taking a step towards her.

“I’m glad.”

These words make him happy, for some reason and as she goes to wash, he is almost smiling again.

The room hasn’t changed since the first time he’d been there. He can’t help but snoop around a little, and to his delight she had left her clothes within reach.

In her vest he finds an handful of cash, not enough to pay a plane ticket or anything, a prepaid phone with a broken screen… and in an inner pocket, some ID: Passports, green cards… there are several of them, actually, all with her photo but different names. His blood turns cold and finding two more worrisome items, he replaces all his discoveries and tries to focus on something else for now, it’d be better once his brain had processed all this evidence, calmly.

In a corner of the nice but outdated room, his preteen self is stiffly standing besides Dameron — if his hair had been way too long, Kes on the other hand, sported a shorter haircut, heavily spiked with hair gel. They were fourteen, or perhaps fifteen for Kes, still wearing black from head to toes, because they bore the full mourning of Gina’s sister, Dolores. Cassian spoke English already, while his brother had not bothered until then. They look like babies but Cassian felt world weary already and it shows, because behind him, Jyn suddenly says:

“Even I would recognize you at once, with him grinning and you frowning.”

“Christ! How can you sneak up like that?!”

“You were distracted, obviously.”

Yes, he was, but still, he’s not easily taken by surprise and it takes some skills — perhaps of the professional kind? — to manage this for the second time in a row. He notes this in the corner of his mind as he considers the granny-like nightgown she wears — it goes to her ankles — and her hair, longer than he’d thought.

“I’m so tired,” she says, flopping back onto the bed, “and I’m not even the one driving.”

“Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s in a rush. We’ll take our time once we leave San Diego. But Gina was expecting us, so we quickened the pace.”

“She seems like a nice lady. She offered me some of her granddaughter’s clothes for tomorrow, but I am fine with the clothes I got on my back. I’m not often in girlie clothing anyway… but she’s very kind.”

“Yes, she is really sweet. But she’s also old and a little sick, so…”

He leaves the rest hanging up in the air, but she understands and seeing him still standing, taps the bed next to her. He comes over and sits next to her, on the mattress, his back against the wall and his legs spread in front of him.

“So, she’s your aunt?”

“The same way Kes is my bro. She pulled us out of the gutter after her sister died, in Mexico. She didn’t have to, did it anyway. Her husband, Alfonso, he was Spanish. Brought us there a summer, in Pamplona, when we were barely twenty, and Kes met Shara.”

“Pretty romantic.”

“Yeah, I’m not one for romance, but these two are made for each other.”

Both stare at the ceiling but it’s not so bad. For all his qualities, his brother has never truly known the value of silence, of just staying besides someone and sharing the same air, for the beauty of it. He hears her breathing next to him and the sound lulls him a bit. He can’t hear anything else, but he has spent so much time in the car that the vibration of the motor is still present in his body, he feels it like a tidal wave. My, he’s getting older.

“You can sleep with me,“ she eventually whispers as he gapes at her. "Seriously Cassian, if I wanted to do the nasty, you think I’d use that line?”

“Kes would have, he probably did at some point, in fact. But I get what you mean. Thanks for the offer, but I really should get back to him. From what I recall, he likes to grab all the covers.”

“I don’t,” she replies as he sits up, preparing to go, “listen, the truth is… I could use some company.”

He reads in her eyes that she’s afraid of finding herself alone, in a strange place, far away from her brother and with people still on her heels for a reason she has not given yet. He has a really bad feeling about this, but he complies because it probably cost her to admit as much. He feels a rush that he really shouldn’t when smiles at him, a real blinding smile that shows teeth, and if he ever had some doubts before, he can’t deny he’s a total goner.

“Goodnight Cassian.”

“Sleep well, Jyn, tomorrow is another day.”

He feels stupid for telling such platitude, for a second. Only… it was what his parents used to say to him, he realizes, suddenly petrified on the mattress, while she rolls on her side. He doesn’t know what it means, but he’s sure it’s no coincidence: he’s worked too hard to suppress any unwanted reminder of his life before first grade.

There was a time when he knew Kes (his parents and the Damerons had been friends before they were even born) but he wasn’t his brother yet. He had another, a toddler who had learned to walk while gripping his legs, who had been all curls and smiles, a cherub, called back to heaven far too soon. Lord, I command you the soul of my brother Marco, so that he may be safe in your embrace, until the end of all days, Amen.

She must have sensed him crossing himself, or maybe he let out a sound, because Jyn comes unbearably closer and the clean scent of soap fills his nostrils and locks unwanted recollections — and reflexes — in the depths of his memory. He tries to put his hands somewhere, since usually he’s a pillow hugger, but he doesn’t know where to put them without touching hers. He pulls back hastily, force himself to sleep on his back. He’s counting her evening breaths until her fingers touch his, just barely, then he drifts away.

[wonderlandinrope]

The Storm (Part one)

A thick wall of white swirled around the truck shaking it as she drove cautiously down the old dirt road. It was late in the day but the blizzard was just beginning to settle in for the long cold November night. Making out what was the side of the road versus the actual road was becoming more and more difficult. Even the trees seemed to have a trouble telling the sky from the earth as the swayed. Hitting a pothole She felt the wheels of the truck pull in one direction. Holding her breath she did her best to turn into the skid. It came out clean. Slowing down, something up ahead caught her eyes. A black silhouette of a car on the side of the road was very out of place. Coming to a full stop for just a moment it was clear that the old muscle car was stuck, and whoever was driving was not having any luck getting it out.

Already two inches had accumulated on the vehicle making it difficult to tell if the owner was still inside or if they had abandoned the car. The closest gas station or even house was a good two miles, and anyone that had two brain cells would know not to try and walk in this weather. Between the snow and unseasonably negative temperatures, it would me frostbite at best and hypothermia at worst. Even with the heat blasting inside the iron bucket, it didn’t help as she rolled down the window and began to yell out at the car hoping someone would answer. Yet as she began to shout the howling wind took away the words. There was no way anyone would hear her.

Rolling the manual window back up she weighed the option of getting out of the car when a large figure appeared at the driver’s side window. With a shock she jumped and reached for the shotgun under her seat before realizing that it was not a bear but a man with long shaggy hair, wearing little more than jean jacket and flannel. Doing his best to seem friendly he gave a slight grin despite the cold whipping his face turning his cheeks and tip of his nose a bright red. Placing her hand on her chest, she took a breath before partially rolling down the window a few inches.

Returning the smile she did her best to neighborly. “You stuck?” Well, that was a stupid question She thought.

The man nodded. Breathing into his hands trying to warm them. Taking in the image before her she could already see his knuckles were turning white. “My brother and I went off the road, any chance you could pull us out?” His low smooth voice was a pleasant alternative to the wind.

“Unfortunately no. The roads are too slippery right now, almost lost control myself.” She looked around for the second man but saw no one. “But I could give you a ride to where you're going. From there you could call a tow truck.”

he nodded. “You sure?”

“Yeah, not a problem. Besides you’ll be ice by morning, temps are going to keep dropping, and cells don’t work this far out.” While normally she wasn’t one to give strangers rides, these were not normal circumstances. And it didn’t look as though this man was the least bit prepared for a night in the northern woods of Maine.  Not during a nor'easter at least.

He nodded running around the truck back to the car. Another man rolled down the driver side window, Getting a better look she could see him look over as the first gestured to her. She waved still smiling. They looked like they were arguing, the first looked annoyed as if he didn’t want to leave the car. Just then a large gust came from behind funneling snow straight in through the window covering him. Reluctantly he got out. Turning around just for a moment to grab two duffel bags. Shoving one into the taller man's arms. The first came jogging almost slipping on a patch of ice before jumping in taking the middle seat of the single cab truck. She watched at the second kissed his hand then placed it on the car before joining them.

Covered in snow they both rubbed their hands together in front of the vents. She turned the heat up a little more, taking in the sight before her. Neither looked as if they had seen so much snow in their lives or at least had experienced it in such a way.

“Thank’s for the ride. But we would have been fine.” Shorter one sounded as if it was a personal insult to him. Ignoring it she shrugged

“Names Alice. Where you boys headed?” Putting the truck in drive it lurched forward crawling out of a snow drift that had already settled in front of it.

“I’m Sam, this is my brother dean.” Sam was thankful for the chance to get out of the cold and wanted to show his appreciation. Dean was more upset about leaving Baby behind. A decision that would surely cause problems later. “We were just trying to pass through. But I guess now we are looking for a motel.”

Watching the road it had become worse than just moments ago. The wind churning the snow creating a tunnel of blinding white. Thankfully having had grown up in the ever-changing weather that was Maine, She could drive in almost any terrain or storm. It was just a matter of knowing your vehicle and how much it could take.

“Well, you're in luck that’s where I’m headed.” Looking at them from the corner of her eye she noticed their mannerism, the roughness to them, giving them a vibe of genuine, making them easy to read.  “You boys hunters?”

At the mention of hunter, they both paused for a moment giving each other a look that communicated more than words could have said. Dean now seemed on edge. “How’d you know we’re hunters?” His gruff voice grew defensive

Focusing back on the road she looked for the turn onto the main road. “Most hunters I run into have the same look about em. Like there's something they have their eye on but they can't quite see it past the trees.”

“Most? You run into a lot of us then.” Dean asked still sounding a little distrustful.

“All the time.” She shrugged off the feeling that he was trying to get at something.

“You a hunter then?” Dean talked a lot. Sam focused on warming his frozen fingers.

She shook her head with a sly smile. “No can't say that I had any interest in it. Though my father did try to get me to take up the sport.” In the distance a faint red neon light called to her thru the snow, it read vacancy. “Here we are. Though I do enjoy deer meat I prefer to get mine from the butcher.”

Dean relaxed a bit keying a half smile grow across his lips. The word hunter had multiple meanings and in the star of Maine during this time of year, it wasn't surprising to have the word thrown around so carelessly. Sam also amused by the mild miscommunication took it as a sign that this would be a trip to remember.

Pulling into the parking lot Alice parked directly in front of the office. An open sign hanging on the inside of the glass door. Jumping out of the monster of a truck and into small space it was a nice change from the blistering cold. The heat was steady, a red-headed girl with braids and glasses stood behind the counter reading a book. There was an old faded blue couch underneath the window and a stand with a variety of pamphlets across from it. The girl at the counter pushed her glasses up, placing the book face down. She couldn't have been more than 17.

“Hey Judy, you can go I'll close up.” Alice ducked behind the desk grabbing a key off the wall and tossing it at the girl. “Give your mum a call tell her you're staying here tonight. The roads are terrible you shouldn't be driving. Room 104.”

Judy took the keys glancing at the disheveled men standing in the middle of the room. Dean picking thru the packets on the wall pointing out one advertising the dinner a few miles away. Alice put her hand on Judy’s  shoulder.

“I got em. Go get some rest and you can take tomorrow off.” Without a word she shrugged grabbing her coat, then pushed past the two men. “So what you guys looking for?”

Dean was still distracted looking at the pamphlets and news articles on the wall. Sam stepped up placing his bag on the floor. It made a familiar sound of something metal shifting.

“Double. You work here?” He looked genuinely interested.

Nodding Alice typed a few words on the computer. “Actually I own the place. Inherited it from my father after he passed.” Taking the credit card scanning it through approved popped up on the screen. “Sounds lame but I wouldn't have chosen to do anything else.”

With Sams easy going attitude and relaxed demeanor, it was easy to open up. Not that Alice had anything to hide. Her life was an open book. Being someone who had grown up in the small town after her mother passed away when she was a kid, she father bought the failing motel on a whim. But it quickly became a home to them, business even increased after the first few months. Attracting mostly tourist that were interested in hunting or the hikers that were interested in the regions mass amount of trails and natural caves. Alice's only regret was that it hadn't been doing near as well the last few years since her father's passing.

Hands tucked into his pockets sam smiled understanding the draw of a normal quiet life. “Doesn't sound half bad actually.”

Dean reappeared holding a free map of the area which highlighted a few caves and some of the rivers. “You said that there are a lot of hunters in the area. Anyone ever talks about seeing something bigger than a deer?”

“Of course. We get a few stories about bears, a lynx once in while. Moose.” Turning back to Sam, she found herself wondering how long they’d been on the road for. “If you guys are looking for a specific area I can get you in touch with Jim. He knows all of the best hunting spots.”

“Nah, Think we’ll be all set. We can handle our own can’t we Sammy?” He patted Sam’s shoulder.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Thank you, that would be great.” Taking the key from Alice's hand he smiled kindly again.

“You mentioned something about a tow truck earlier you got a number or should I just take yours down?” Dean interrupted again. Smiling more flirtatiously this time.

Alice, of course, wasn't having any of it. She’d dealt with so many like him on a weekly basis it wasn’t even flattering anymore. Instead of playing games with Dean she turned to Sam, the less abrasive of the two. “The car should be here by morning. Jim is also the tow guy. I’ll give a call before I close up shop tonight.” Dean got the hint took the key, mumbling something under his breath before walking out into the blizzard. “Didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.”

Sam shrugged unfazed, Dean was running on little sleep, and had been striking out with near everyone lately, to say the least, it was having a small impact on his ego. “Don’t take it personally.”

Alice began to work on closing down the computer, then the register. “I won’t. How long are you guys planning on staying?”

“Just tonight and tomorrow. Thanks for all the help. What time does the office open tomorrow?” Sam found himself trying to delay the inevitable.

He didn't want to leave the woman named Alice, she reminded him of what home should be. A smiling face, a helping hand, and a straight to the point comment when needed. All things he and Dean hadn't seen or been apart of in a very long time. Sensing his reluctance to leave Alice didn't push him, she was in no hurry to close the office. It had been a long time since anyone new had actually stopped to just talk. Too often tourists would rush through only stopping to ask about where to check in with the game warden or park ranger. And there was no harm in enjoying the company of someone not from the small rural town.

Alice finished closing the computer down but made no move away from the counter. “We open at 9 but I'm usually up by 6. You in a hurry to skip town?” Leaning forward on her elbows Alice had the same unwavering smile that had been present from the moment they met.

“No, not at all. Just curious. How long have you been running the place?”

“My whole life really. My father bought it when I was five, from the start I loved it. Would talk to the most interesting people and let me tell you we've had a lot of them. But I took over full time about two years ago.” Alice found herself getting lost in the multifaceted layers of Sam's hazel eyes.

“You said you inherited from your father?” Sam was trying not to get too personal but had to ask. A picture hanging behind the counter of Alice and the older man that could only be her father. “I don't mean to pry.”

“No it's fine he passed then. Rather unexpectedly.” She flinched at the memory of when she'd gotten the news. “How about you and your brother. You guys heading home for Thanksgiving?”

Sam's brow pulled together. Thanksgiving had been such a foreign concept the past few years. “No.” He ran his hand through his long hair. “Not this year anyway. It's just us right now so it's not really something we put a lot of effort into.”

The phone rang pulling them both away from the conversation. Mouthing the words sorry as Alice picked up the phone. Taking the hint Sam headed out the door into the blustery wind. To join his brother in their room.

Inside the room was like many other motel rooms, a small kitchenette, bathroom, tv, two beds. The only difference was this one was decorated like a hunting cabin, antlers on the wall, a fish as well. Dean was sitting up in bed watching a Golden Girls marathon, Nursing one of the beers that head taken from the Impala. His eyes not even looking up as Sam fell backward onto the opposite bed with an umph.  Sam placed his arms behind his head, lost in thought about Alice.

“Did you get her number or did you chicken out?” Dean’s words went right over his younger brothers head. Getting only a Mhm in return. Dean chucked a pillow hitting him directly. “Yo! Sammy anyone in there or should I call Cas?”

Pushing the pillow off him Sam’s eye refocused on the room around him. He looked over, noticing in the faint glow of the light that three empty bottles sat on the nightstand. HAd he really spent that much time talking to Alice? “No, i’m good.” Pausing for a moment he thought about bringing up the nagging feeling, that he felt when talking to Alice. The gut feeling he got sometimes when on a case, that told him there was more going on. But he pushed the thought away, knowing Dean would just tell him he was being an idiot.

At six am sharp Alice found herself looking at a wall snow. At least half a foot had accumulated overnight, it was still dark, and the temps were still hovering just below 20 degrees. With only a week to go from Thanksgiving, it was a little out of place. But she didn’t put too much into it. Bundling up she grabbed the shovel and made her way around the motel scraping and salting the ice as she went. As she went to start scraping the ice in front of the elderly women Mays room she heard an ear piercing scream. Dropping the shovel she began to pound on the door.

“May? May are you alright?” The scream continued to get louder. “May! You need to open the door.” Digging into her pockets Alice searched for the Master Key. “Don’t worry May I’m coming!”

Pulling the keycard from her pocket her hands shook dropping it twice, before finally opening the door. It hit the wall hard but remained open as Alice rushed to find a now softly whimpering May crumpled on the floor in the bathroom, a red liquid surrounding her, patches of fur and what looked like raw hamburger scattered around the room and hanging from the walls. Alice heard another scream but couldn’t tell where it was coming from until a set of hands grabbed her shoulders. Pulling her back out of the room placing her on the bed. She was still screaming when a set of Hazel eyes met hers. She saw the face and the mouth moving but couldn’t understand what it was saying. A pair of warm hands cupped her face trying to help her focus.

Sam POV

The alarm went off at 630, blaring music to a local radio station playing the oldies. Sitting up the sun was just begin to peek through the curtains. Dean Rolled over hitting the alarm, then rolled back off and fell back to sleep. Pulling the covers back Sam could already feel the brisk cool air seeping in through the vents and the cracks in the wall. Pulling on a Flannel shirt and a clean pair of pants he couldn’t beat the nagging feeling head felt the night before. He’d decided that he would get up early and do some research on the area. See what it was that he was missing.

As he settled into his chair with a warm cup of coffee. He could hear the scratching sound outside the door of someone shoveling snow. A smile crept across his face as he pictured Alice hard at work taking care of the place that she took so much pride in. Recalling the conversation from the night before Sam’s mind swirled with different paths that he could take. He could look into her, was the weird? Was that a stalker move? Searching her past to satisfy his own curiosity, and silence the voice that told him something was not right here. Shaking his head he leaned forward and began to look into the area instead.

Just about to click on a link that looked promising after half an hour of nothing a panicked voice broke his concentration. Jumping from the chair he opened the door just in time to watch as Alice disappears into the next room over. A loud bang of something hitting the wall sent Dean shooting up drawing his gun that he kept under his pillow. His half-lidded eyes searching for the origin of the sound. The bang was quickly followed by a scream, a sound that was all too familiar to the brothers. Sam was out the door before Dean had a chance to pull himself out of bed.

Pushing his way into the room Sam followed the constant scream to the bathroom where a smell of something vile saturated the air.  It was the smell of blood, and flesh, inner leads and rotting meat. The floor and walls were painted with blood, while an elderly woman lay on the ground lips quivering pale her stomach an open festering wound. Alice stood staring down at the dying woman screaming in shock. Taking her by the shoulders Sam pulled her away from the veil sense helping her sit on the bed where she continued to scream. Her whole body shook with such ferocity that it became clear that he needed to snap her out of it before she passed out.

“Alice!” Sam Held her face to help her calm down. “You’re ok. Look at me, you're not hurt, everything is going to be fine.”

Just then Dean came running in holding his gun out as he began sweeping the room. His face in a snarl when the smell hit him. “Son of a bitch!”

*********

Hope you enjoyed the first installment. Feedback would be great!

[spnbaby-67]

Craving You Chapter 8 part 1

A/n: HI ya’ll i’m having issues with tumblr tonight but i’m loading this anyways, if anyone knows how to make the text messages be smaller please let me know. Without further ado here is chapter 8 its part 1 of 2, tell me what you think. You are all amazing and I thank you so very much, more than you know. If you have any questions let me know as well, hit that ask button. For this story Jensen is Single and Danneel is happy elsewhere, please no hate on Danneel or JJ, I love them both and hope to meet them one day. My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my doing so. Gifs and images i use are not mine they belong to respected owners. Also a big thank you to Portia at @writersaredreamers for beta’ing this chapter, and for @secretlyfurrydragon for encouraging me to continue and all you wonderful followers, readers, and writers who inspire me. thank you. 

Warnings; Language, fluffy stuff, and Jensen being adorable. 

I woke up to my text messaging notification tone going off, which scared the hell out of me. It was set to the minions saying ‘Let me out I’m stuck in your pocket,’ which Cassie must have been playing with my phone again. I quickly grabbed it since it was so loud only to smile at the name that was on my screen. I was laying on my stomach, but quickly turned onto my back. I unlocked my phone with a smile to read the messages.

                                  I immediately got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a quick shower, after that I brushed my teeth and got dressed. I hadn’t heard the doorbell yet or gotten a text message, so I figured he was still driving. Depending on where he’s coming from, traffic can be a bitch. I opted to wear a pair of blue jean shorts with a gray/black short sleeved shirt, which was one of my favorites to wear lately. It’s more like a baseball type shirt, that I used to wear when I play softball back in junior high and high school,during practices so I have a few of them.  Getting my purse ready, I heard a familiar voice beckoning me.

“[Y/N}! She came running into my room and stopped half way in after she saw me standing there frozen like I was in trouble or something. “You’re handsome prince awaits you,” she comes over to me swooning which kind of scared me.

I feel my cheeks turn red as the crimson and butterflies in my stomach swim around. “Do I look ok?”

She looks at me, “Babe, you’re beautiful. Go have some fun, enjoy but be back by 3 because you and I have some fun stuff lined up.”

I hugged her, “I promise, I’ll ditch him if he won’t bring me home in time.”

“Oh no you won’t, he’s a keeper {Y/N}. You’ll just have to hog tie him down, throw him in the backseat, steal his keys and drive his truck which is out of this world by the way to get here by 3.” She was pushing me out of my bedroom.

“Ok, ok I get it. I’m going.” She walked with me to the front door where I saw Jensen standing there talking to Jeff. He was handsome, he was wearing a forest green Henley short sleeved, and a pair of stonewashed blue jeans that hugged those curves and features, which really accentuated his bow legs that I find totally adorable.

He approached me and took my hand, “Hi, ready to go?”

I smiled at him, “Yup, but I have to be back by 3 otherwise Jo said I can hog tie you down in the back seat and take your keys away.” I turned to look at Jo, I knew I had embarrassed her. So I knew what was coming next.

“SMALLS! You’re killing me!” Her voice was already fading in the background as we headed out of the house to his truck. She was not kidding, that thing was a beast, but damn it was gorgeous. “WOW, that’s a beautiful truck, this is yours?”

He opened the passenger side for me, I was completely blown away on the inside as well. “Yes, this is all mine. Worked really hard to get her too.” He helped me up on the step sides, thank goodness for those because I don’t think I would have been able to climb into that thing.

He shut the door, then walked around the front to get into the driver’s side just as I was fastening my seatbelt. That shirt he had on, really brought out his muscular arms and chest when he jumped into his side. I had to turn my head for a moment to catch my breath, ‘Holy fucking hell, he’s hot.’ Yup, there went my heart yet again.

He turned to me as he placed his right hand on the backseat, he had his dark sunglasses on, I so wanted to die. “Ready to get the best damn coffee in the world you ever had?”

I just nodded my head almost with a squeak of a yes which made me blush ten times more. ‘Geez {Y/N}, get it together.’

I caught a brief glance of a smile when he looked out the window to back out of the drive way, ‘God, I don’t know if you can hear me right now, but thank you for creating him.’

“So, what kind of music do you like to listen to?” He spoke suddenly that made me jump a bit.

“I um, it varies really. Growing up I listened to classic rock mixed with some country, George Strait is my all-time favorite artist. But here lately, the new singers of country music has been slowly invading my playlist.”

He reached forward and touched a button on the screen that lit up with sounds and lights, I was completely blown away by that. This truck had everything one can ask for, ‘what did he say he did for a living?’

“There’s a rule here in Texas, that if you have a pretty girl sitting beside you, windows rolled down, cool breeze in the air, country music better be playing in those speakers.” He winked at me as he changed it to a familiar song that I love right now. “Craving you,” by Thomas Rhett, I just love his voice.

He was about to change it, and I slapped his hand away. “I love that song, it’s a good song.”

He chuckled, “Ok, you win.” He smiled as he backed out of the drive. “So, Smalls what’s that all about?”

I smiled remembering how I got that nickname, I turn to face him, “Do you remember that movie called ‘The Sandlot?’ the one about Scotty Smalls who was kind of nerdy, and tried to play baseball and was scared of it at first? If I remember correctly, even gotten a black eye when his stepdad was playing catch with him? Yup, that was me. The same thing happened to me when Jo and I wanted to try something new, because all the other kids were playing it.”

“I love that movie, it’s a classic.” He turned to look at me.

The cool breeze came thru the window at just the right time and it blew a strand of hair in my face. Jensen, the sweetheart of a man took his right hand and removed it from my eyes, while we were stopped at a red light.

“But I can’t believe you were nerdy like that, tell me more how did you and Jo meet?” The light turned green, so he could turn down a very familiar rode. I started to get goosebumps as I saw the old high school in view, too many memories ago.

“Well, back in middle school after my parents and I moved here from Houston when I was about 10, I didn’t have any friends or anyone to talk to or hang out with. Jo was a couple of houses down from me, and she came to my rescue after this girl pushed me down at the bus stop. I landed in a mud puddle of course, but Jo saw everything and punched that girl in the face. She helped me up, gave me her jacket till we got to school at least so I can call my mom to have her bring some different clothes. Well, we became friends after that, she was kind of like my bodyguard or something. Always there ready to pounce on someone if they even tried anything with me, I didn’t’ know how to react to that, so it was scary at the time, but it’s all good.” We both laughed a bit.

I had turned my back to face the window to look at him better, he had a console in between us that our arms rested on. Our arms touched and electricity went thru me. I cleared my throat but not chancing moving my arm from him, “Jo thought it would be cool to join the neighborhood softball team, I guess you can say our lives was like the movie. She was the Benny in the relationship, always protecting me from anyone who dared to get to close, but challenging me to do something new I wouldn’t ever do before. When that movie came out, we realized how much our lives were exactly like it so she ended up calling me Smalls.” I jumped telling him to slow down a bit. “Ooohh, right there under that tree.” I pointed and he nodded agreeing with what he saw. “I was in a fight, my first ever because Jo wasn’t around. She had to go be with her grandma in Kansas. After coffee if you like, I can show you some old haunts.”

He turned into the coffee shop, “I’d like that,” He found a parking spot and was about to turn off the truck, I gave him a look because the song that was currently playing, “My Girl,” by Brett Young wasn’t over yet it. It had a few more seconds.

“There’s also a rule that if you’re in the middle of a song you love, don’t turn it off.” I gave him a wink as he held his hands up as if he was surrendering. I giggled at the sight.  “Alright, you can now.”

He chuckled.  When he turned his head as he killed the ignition, I can only imagined that he was smiling. I unbuckled my seatbelt not noticing Jensen was already at my side of the truck opening the door for me. He took my hand and helped me down and with a small jump I landed in his arms. Chest to chest.

I looked up at him and just when I did, his lips met mine. He held me in his arms far longer than I expected, because I felt myself leaning backwards to the truck’s seat. My right arm went under his arm and up his back, as my left found the back of him. As one of his rested on my shoulder and the other around my waist. I sucked on his bottom lip for a moment as it was one of my favorite things to do when I kiss a guy, just something about those lips attracted me to him. I wanted to taste him, and him to taste me, it was amazing. I felt his left hand up the back of my head while his fingers threaded in with my hair, which made me want to go weak in the knees. I moaned as my head went back breaking the kiss.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He said softly as his lips were still dangerously close.

I looked at him, still in awe of this man. “Good morning to you too, but I believe we already said that.” I took my right hand and ran it thru his hair.

He leaned in to my neck with a soft kiss, I dunno what it is but guys always know where to go to get my motor going.

He broke away after that, and took my hand, “It was thru text, not by mouth.” He winked at me as he held my hand. “I believe I owe you a coffee Smalls.”

I faced palmed, “you’re not going to let that go are you?” I look up at him as we walked to the shop.

He opened the door for me, “Nope, not when it’s the cutest thing I ever heard.” He kissed my forehead before I walked ahead of him.

He was not kidding, the smell of this place cinnamon, vanilla, and ginger, filled the air. My nose followed the smell to the counter where a beautiful young woman with long black hair and small frame stood.

“Gen, this is {Y/N}. {Y/N}, this is Genevieve Padalecki, she’s the wife of my best friend or brother I should say. She owns the coffee shop, and if you ask me.” He paused, “She makes the best tasting coffee ever.” He placed his hand on his heart to show his gratitude.

“Jensen, you’re full of it. “She held out her hand to me and I took it. “Nice to meet you {Y/N}, but can I ask you why you’re with this guy?” You could tell she loved Jensen and that they always joke with each other.

I was about to answer, when Jensen decided to for me. “Hey, I heard that you know. And Frankly, I’m hurt by that.” He faked a pout.

She just rolled her eyes, “Gotta watch out for him, what can I get you, you name it we probably have it.”

We got our orders and left her to do some work, Jensen led me over to a small area kind of tucked away from view. We sat down in some of the most comfortable leather chairs ever. They were wide enough that I was able to bring my feet under me to be able to unwind a bit. Jensen took a sip of his coffee, and I followed suit. “Oh my god, you were not kidding.” I blurted out after my first taste of my frappe.

“You think that’s good, you should try regular coffee, or even her cappuccino. She’s amazing, I tried to get her to move in with me before Jared did, but he won.” He nodded with a smile towards her like she heard what he was saying.

Just as he did that I noticed his dimples, I love to see him to do that. He’s just so adorable, freckles dusted over his nose as if they were sprinkled there by a fairy godmother herself. His eyes shown more with the color of his shirt, and the little crow feet on each side of his eyes just made my heart flutter for him. I’m not sure what we have yet, or if this is anything at all. But I tell you what, I wouldn’t mind finding out.

** Let me know if you want me to tag you**

@writersaredreamers  @secretlyfurrydragon @secretimpala67 @nanie5  @laqueus-ludovicus  @impalaimagining  @theshygirlao3 

[loserholland]

𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞

𝟎𝟏𝟑 ➺ 𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

Pairing ➺  Ceo playboy!Ben Hardy x Reader

Warning ➺ flashbacks and sad benny boy ):

Word Count ➺ 2,560

Summary ➺ An arranged marriage between two polar opposites.

A/N ➺  A new series! So after watching BoRhap I instantly fell in love again with Ben Hardy who plays Roger Taylor! Message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be on the taglist!

Send me your thoughts, feelings, everything! It makes me day/night!

Also send me your theories! Love reading them! TEEHEHHEH

Also we are slowly drawing to an end to this series and it makes me sad that this series will soon end AH! MY HEART!

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @hollandfieldblurbs , @beerbottlesandchainsaws, @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine​, @spideyyypeter

❁ 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ❁ - @financialinstability, @magicwithaknife , @xrumkugelx , @rogertaylorsblondhair, @hollyissuchahoe , @yourkindabrainy-ilikeit, @fsociety00da1, @lee-519 , @2ptonpt, @sherlokiantheatrenerd , @local-radical-bandit , @calumfornicationx , @softcillian, @kittysblog14 , @peach-barnes , @prettyoddbarnes  , @spideyyypeter, @adepressedstudentslife , @wowza-bowza , @stilesneedsprotection , @anamcg317 , @indescribxbl , @heinz-doofenshmirtz-official , @loveofmylifeben , @captainxmoony , @whateverbakesyourcake , @waving-thru-a-window  , @benhrdy , @beerbottlesandchainsaws , @frietjemeloen , @kirket03 , @emmieliabedelia , @sabbrriiinnaa , @justinemayi , @bummmblebeee  , @wolverinesbeer , @allieburakovsky  , @chocolatekisses8 @i-the-fangirl, @ksqueenie , @secretsweetscollectionblog, @virtualsheepeat 

☞  Masterlist  ☜

There are five stage’s of grief.

One, Denial. In which your mind is thinking this didn’t just happen, this isn’t happening to me.

Two, Anger. Why is this happening? Who’s to blame?

Three, Bargaining. Wanting to exchange the pain, wanting to numb it. 

Four, Depression. Locking out the people who you hold close to your heart. Not wanting to let anyone in.

Finally, Acceptance. Finally accepting the death of a loved one, or a close friend. Finally coming to terms that they’re watching over you and is in a better place. 

When it come’s to break up’s, the stage’s are the same. And boy did Ben go through these like hell. 

After he found Presley cheating on him, he was in the stage one. Denial, not wanting to come to terms or accept the fact that his girlfriend of four years had cheated on him. A month later, he had lost his father to a heart attack. They had tried to do a triple bypass but his heart was too weak to take it. 

All Ben wanted to do was lock himself in his room and ignore the world. He had left Frankie to his mom, thinking it was better for his mom to have some sort of company. 

Stumbling into his penthouse with a bottle of whiskey in his hand brining the half empty bottle to his lips taking a swing of the brown liquor unbothered by the small burn it left in his throat. His eyes fell on a picture that was on picture that was hung on the wall. 

Taytum and Ben’s two year anniversary, they were standing under the eiffel tower smiling from ear to ear at one another. At that time he was happy, so fucking happy. He knew he was gonna marry that girl, she brightened his day like no one else could.

He picked it off the wall staring at his for a second before throwing it at the ground, glass flew in every direction continuing he picked off every photo of the two throwing it in every direction. 

A scream ripped through his chest as he threw his bottle of whiskey at the wall, he ran his hands through his hair tugging at his lightly before dropping to his knees. He looked around his dark empty home scoffing lightly before staring back up at the ceiling. 

“What more can I lose?” 

That’s when he turned to going to the club, having one night stands to boost his ego, blocking out his emotions. Using the one substance that would numb the pain temporarily and left you with a huge headache of regret. At that time he saw no meaning to life, no reason to live or go home to. 

Until his mother introduce him to (Y/N). She was the person to bring him back to life, to be the light and guide him to happiness. (Y/N) gave him a reason to live for, not only because he had to due to being signing a contract, he truly slowly and genuinely fall in love with her. 

Even if he loved her, he still cheated. Running back to the person who broke him in the first place, letting his old flame burn him twice leaving an even bigger scar. When (Y/N) had told him they were over, and gave him back her engagement ring, the scar had burned even more. It was like when you had scrapped your knee, and to clean out the bacteria you use hyrdrogen peroxide and holy fuck does that shit burn. 

Now he was back at square one, back at the same place he was after the death of his father and Presley. He had to pick himself back up again, he has to put himself back together and earn (Y/N) trust, earn her forgiveness. Because without her, he had no reason to live.

(Y/N) laid in the hospital bed her injuries we’re all that serious, a few minor scratches here and there. She had her laptop propped on her lap, papers scattered around the bed catching up on some paperwork that began to build up in her office. There was a small knock on the door brining her attention away from her computer screen, the nurse walked in holding a vase of flower’s.

They were an arrangement of roses and sunflower’s, she knew who had sent it someone she had requested to keep off the visitor’s list, from the one and only Benjamin Jones. 

The sound of his buzzing phone woke him from his slumber groaning from the small headache forming and one hell of a hangover he’d have the next day. His hand rummaged over the nightstand in attempt to find his phone before the called ended. 

“Hello?” he answered groggily burying his face into the soft pillow cased sheets awaiting for the person to answer.

“Hi, is this Mr.Benjamin Hardy? This is Ana from Mount Sinai Hospital speaking, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was in a car accident and you’re one of her emergency contact’s. How soon could you be here?” 

Ben sat up quickly running his finger’s through his hair tugging at the roots lightly, unsure if he heard the woman correctly, his mind began to cloud, his heart rate began to pick up as worry coursed through his veins. 

“Mr.Hardy?” 

“I’m taking the first flight out.”

The moment Audrey saw Ben’s face in the hallway, she couldn’t help but scream and slap the man that she thought would be the light in her daughter’s life. 

“Leave Benjamin!” Audrey shouted tears streaming down her face as Andrew tried to hold back his wife from hitting their ex-son in law, she pushed her husband away. 

“Leave or I’ll have security drag you out.”

As much as she didn’t want to admit, he deserved it. He deserved all the hitting and shouting from Audrey, but all in all she didn’t want to push him away. He did fly nearly 3,460 miles to be by her side, but he lost that privilege the moment she caught him in bed with her sister. 

She wanted him to visit, she wanted to accept his flower’s and chocolates, she wanted him by her side. But she didn’t want to hurt herself all over again. Just the thought of Ben made her heart clench in sadness, she wanted to forgive him she truly did. But she questioned if she could after what he had done. 

Though the one person, the last person that she’d want to have in her room. It was like she was the devil reincarnated to ruin her own sister’s life. 

“Hi.” 

(Y/N) shut her laptop closed removing her glasses from her nose and averted her eyes to meet her sister’s, she stood nervously in the doorway shifting from one foot to the other. 

“Why are you here?” She was aware of her rude tone, but all in all she did deserve it. After putting her through hell and back, Presley deserved to be bitched at. 

“I just want to talk, please?” 

I mean, she did say please. “Five minutes.”

Now we all must be questioning, how did the relationship of (Y/N) and Presley, sister’s who were each other’s best friends change. It all changed after many many events. 

The young seventeen year old descending down the stairs rubbing the sleep out of her eyes wanting nothing more than a cup of water for her parched throat. Her parent’s were unaware of her presence as they talked about the future of their company, who will be CEO when it would be his time to go. 

“Usually, it goes to the first born.” Presley came to a halt moving closer against the wall to listen to her parent’s conversation, her mind wandered to why they were talking about whom would be CEO, when she turned twenty-one she’d earn the COO position. Something she’d been working for nearly her entire life. 

“Well, why does it seem as if you don’t want Presley to take over?” her brows furrowed in confusion on why her mother would ever ask that question, Andrew did want Presley to take over the company right? I mean she did have a right to have it in her name, she was the oldest. 

“It’s just, have you seen the way she’s been acting lately? Coming home late nights, partying-” She stood there for a moment waiting for her father to finish his sentence, the name that would leave his mouth she knew who he wanted to take over.

“I think (Y/N) is a better fit.” Presley’s stiffened against the wall her grip on the glass tightened, anger and envy ran through her veins. They’d really choose (Y/N) over her? The rightful heir to the company? The person who worked her ass off for acceptance from her family that she was the best and would always be the best?

She quietly stormed back up to her room, once she got in the glass that was once in her hand was thrown against the wall as she screamed loudly. The rooms in their house were sound-proof so her parent’s wouldn’t hear the fit she was throwing. 

A photo caught her eye, it was of her and (Y/N) standing in front of Big Ben they had spent Presley’s sixteenth birthday in London. One of her favorite memories with (Y/N), she grabbed the frame staring at the image before her. Silence filled the room, her grip on the frame loosened as she aimed for the wall watching the glass shatter to pieces. 

It had been a week since Presley walked into her parent’s conversation, she had gone to visit her father for lunch walking happily into the office ignoring the staff’s pleads of “Your father asked for no one to disturb him.” or “He’s busy right now.” all the pleads went in one ear and out the other. She gripped the door knob of her father’s office flying the door open to see her father and his secretary, the image before her was not PG-13.

Ever since that day she found out her father was having an affair she held it as leverage, she held it above his head and never made him forget what she saw let alone what her heard that night she had gone to get a glass of water. 

“How does this relate to anything you did to me?” (Y/N) questioned in anger watching Presley slouch in her seat, “I’m getting to that part.” 

Ryan Cruz, he was the boy that (Y/N) fell head over heels for. Well he did the same, he saw (Y/N) as the most sweetest girl in the world. How she’d be so confident to talk to him, leaving him to be a clumsy mess, stumbling over his words which made her giggle. Presley knew how much (Y/N) liked the guy, let alone she knew how much he liked (Y/N).

All she wanted to do was make her sister suffer, make her sister fail so that her mother would agree with her father about Presley being fit for CEO. Andrew had talked to Audrey about having Presley as CEO, only because she had threatened him that if he didn’t she’d tell her about his affair that has been going on for a year. 

Presley (Y/L/N) was filled with surprises, she was truly the devil reincarnated to ruin everything she touched. That night she had brought Ryan home, she did the unexpected wanting nothing more but to hurt her sister, wanting nothing more than for her to feel the pain she felt. All Presley wanted was for (Y/N) to feel the pain she felt growing up in the shadow of her little sister, odd right? It should be the opposite, but oh how the tables have turned. 

She had roofied Ryan’s drink, when he was dazed she had convinced him that she was (Y/N). Her plan was going as planned, stumbling into her home taking (Y/N) by surprise, it boosted her ego when she saw the shock and sadness paint her little sister’s face. At that moment she didn’t care that (Y/N) was hurt, she didn’t care that she had just broke her sister’s trust. All in all she didn’t care. 

“Oh c’mon (Y/N) be a big girl, after all you’re gonna have everything handed to you, why are you crying?” Presley pushed Ryan off of her watching him stumble to the ground as she stalked over to her little sister. She gripped her sister’s face in her hand staring into her little sister’s sad (Y/E/C) eyes. 

“You took everything from me (Y/N), now it’s my turn to take everything from you.” 

In which she did take everything from her. 

That everything was Ben. 

Yes. I understand she had him first but she did lose him, and took him away from her. Keeping her promise she made nearly ten years ago. 

“I just want to apologize, I want to say I’m sorry for making your life hell, I’m sorry for blaming you. I- I don’t know what came over me, I’m truly sorry (Y/N) for everything.” 

(Y/N) scoffed lightly, unsure if Presley was genuine or not. She was unsure if her sister was still wearing a mask to hide what she truly felt inside, after ten years she didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not. 

“Presley, this is the difference between us. First off, I knew about dad’s affair and told mom yet you to black mail dad! Second, nothing is handed to me. I work hard for it, I worked my ass off for the COO position. So the fact that you think you can walk back into my life after ruining my engagement, and promising to take everything from me, you think I’d forgive you?” 

Presley sat there in silence unsure on how to answer her sister’s question. 

“You hurt me Presley, you made it your life’s work to take everything away from me. After what dad said, you spiraled out of control instead of just getting your head back into school! To you everything is a game, well hate to burst your bubble Pres but not everything is a fucking game!” 

(Y/N) pinched her nose bridge taking deep breath’s in and out, coming to the realization that her father didn’t mean to hurt her. Presley was just always using that secret as leverage, he didn’t want to hurt his daughter. No parent wanted that, he didn’t want to tell his daughter that she needed to take some time off and focus on herself and not other’s. 

It’s like when you yell at a child who swore, they don’t know any better. But Presley was old enough to know better, she was old enough to know what was right from wrong, wrong from right. The thing about Presley is, she was all for herself, if there was a fire she’d save herself, it was as if the world revolved around her. 

She finally locked eyes with her sister, the person who had made her life a living fucking hell. Their relationship went to shit after Presley overheard her parent’s conversation, the trust that they had broken when she brought Ryan into their home roofied and the memories that she smiled back on gone the moment she promised to take everything away from her.

“And this apology, this apology is ten years a little too late.”