#it means a lot to me that I even managed to post something

[sa2sugu]

....hi everyone......... i know that some of you already know about this but i have a bl comic that is currently being published on lezhin. it's called "처음의 여름" or "a first of summers". it's explicit and i'd be really happy if anyone who is interested in this type of thing or my art gives it a read.

you can read the english version at: https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/first_summer

(or the korean version here if you're into that): https://lezhin.com/ko/comic/first_of_summers

you can also follow me on twitter: https://x.com/pppanghouse

i have gotten many messages asking me if i was the one behind a first of summers (because apparently my art style is very recognizable i can't hide from you guys!!), and i've been ignoring them for months (sorry, everyone) because i was never fully proud of the work that i was putting out there. i still don't think i am at a point where i can confidently promote my work like a normal person would because me and shame are like this -> 🫂. but i am working on getting better at managing my shame and making this post is a step towards that goal. in a way, i felt more reluctant to post about it here because i see the connections i've made on tumblr as real tangible friendships rather than parasocial ones so it's even more embarrassing.

as a lover of yaoi, slice of life and queer media, i tried to make something that i personally would like to read, in an art style that i would have found inspirational when i started digital art. here are some panels that i am kind of proud of ahh hee hee

to be honest it feels very very weird to "make a story" and "share it with people", because i've never done something like this before and having to offer my personal themes and internal symbols to people in the hopes that some of you may resonate with them feels like i'm running down the street with my whole ass out in the open. idk how people do this.

also, i know a lot of you consume media illegally and i know that i alone can't stop you from doing that. which is why i'm all the more thankful to anyone who chooses to support me by buying the chapters on the official websites. i'm slowly learning that this (working on stories and drawing) might be something i want to keep doing and get better at, so i'm so deeply grateful to those who make that possible for me by supporting me financially. it always feels super nice when people show appreciation for my art and recommend it to other people and talk about it.

anyways, so that's me. i have a lot more to say but this post has already gotten long enough, and none of it includes any information on what the comic is about lol so here's a short synopsis: hyeonseon is a 40yo divorced salaryman who, after having a bit of a midlife crisis about where he is at in life, decides to learn electric guitar. his teacher, yeoreum (which means summer) is a 24yo college student who is also having a bit of a crisis of his own aaaand falls for the older dude. uhhhh and as i said it's explicit they are fucking it oppa homo style, and it does deal with themes related to age gaps but please don't come for meeeee!!!!!!!! i tried to make it tasteful and chose to work with age gaps because i had something to say about the concept of adulthood/life, also i enjoy a dude who's a little old getting dicked down by a younger lad what do you want me to say, damn......

if you have any nice things to say about my work then weeheee please go ahead, thank you

[andvys]

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter eight

⭐︎ Dead-eyed. Dead weight.

Warnings: angst, angst, angst. hurt/comfort. sickness. mentions of death. post apocalypse au. grumpy x sunshine

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Something happens that had none of you prepared and the fear of loss creeps up on your group... once again.

Word count: 8.5k

Author's note: Please read !! @hellfire--cult helps with allllll my chapters, we planned this story together, from start to finish. A lot of the things that happen here, are her ideas and I just write them. She not only brainstormed with me, she also writes with me and by that I mean, she writes a lot of scenes, like in the last chapter for example, there is a huge portion that was written by Roe, not by me. So please keep in mind that she is behind this story as well, don't forget her! Give her the love and the credit she deserves ♡

series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

It started off with a sneeze the night before and a scratchy feeling in your throat before the nausea took over. It then progressed into a painful cough accompanied by a headache. You knew it would happen the moment uncomfortable shivers started running down your body but you tried to blame it on the cold weather, at first at least. You knew it wasn’t the cold. It was the rain you and Steve got caught in two nights ago. 

Anxiety took over the second it dawned on you that a fever was rising up. You took some of the vitamin pills you found, hoping that they would help. They didn’t, of course. 

You are freezing, shaking terribly even after putting on a thicker sweater under your leather jacket. Your nose is starting to feel stuffy causing your head to hurt even more. Your hands are cold and shivering. Your head pounds a little harder each time Nancy hits a bump on the road. So far, you were good at hiding the state you were in until now – until it really started kicking in and you put your hand to your head after a particular big bump on the road. A wince falls from your lips and Steve, who sits across from you with a book in his hand, instantly looks up at you, alarmed and worried when he notices the pained look on your face. 

He lowers the book he is holding and places it on the bench he is sitting on. He furrows his eyebrows when he notices sweat coating your forehead and the trembling in your hand… the trembling in your whole body as his eyes scan you from head to toe. 

“Sunshine?” 

You don’t react. You place your palm against your forehead and lean back, clearing your throat before you break into a fit of coughs. Dry Coughs. 

Oh no.

Steve gets up and nearly crashes to his knees as he crouches down before you. He places a comforting hand on your calf as he speaks your name softly, not noticing how the RV has slowed down and how Nancy and Eddie share worried looks. 

“Are you okay?”

You sniffle quietly and push yourself up so you can straighten your back. You clear your sore throat and lick your lips that feel dryer than usual. You look down at him, noting the worry in his hazel eyes. 

You open your mouth but don’t even manage to utter a word before he cuts you off. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he warns as he glares into your eyes, making you cower back slightly.  

Nancy rushes into the back the moment she parks the RV on the side of the road. There is a deep line between her eyebrows and a frown sinking into her features as she halts beside Steve. She reaches her hand out to you and touches your forehead with the back of her hand. 

Steve looks up at her and sees the way her eyes widen. 

“You are burning up!” 

She already knew you weren’t feeling good, but she hoped that it was just a little cold and that it would pass in a few days after some rest, but instead, it got progressively worse over the past couple of hours. 

“Oh shit,” Eddie mumbles, bringing his hand up to his face. 

Steve and Nancy share a look, one filled with anxiety. And you don’t want that, you don’t want them to worry. You will be alright. You just need to rest. 

“I’m–” cut off by another painful cough. You shut your eyes as you cover your mouth and turn in the other direction, not wanting to get them sick as well. You blink back the tears that make their way into your eyes and take a few deep breaths before you look back at them. “I-I’ll be okay, just feeling a little under the weather.” 

“You’re not feeling under the weather, you are sick! Which isn’t a surprise at all considering you were running around in the cold fucking rain!” Nancy raises her voice as she glares at both you and Steve. “And we don’t have anything to treat you–”

“It’s just a cold, Nancy…” You reply weakly as you tug your jacket tighter around you. Sharing a look with Steve, you instantly look down again, not bearing to look into his eyes. “It’s gonna pass in a few days…” 

It didn’t. 

It didn’t pass. 

It kept getting worse. 

Worse and worse. 

Two days later, your whole body was aching. Your muscles were sore and your throat was dry. Coughing hurt, and your head was pounding. You tried to hold yourself together, to keep your head high and your back straight, to pretend to be okay so they didn’t have to worry but when the weakness hit, your eyes turned glassy and your lips blue, they could see that you were getting worse and there was no hiding that anymore. You couldn’t even if you tried, not after this morning, not after you nearly collapsed trying to get a glass of water. Luckily, Eddie was there to catch you.

Eddie and Nancy were worried, that was obvious. You were unaware of the fear in Steve’s eyes though, even now as he crouches down before you, touching your forehead with the back of his hand. 

He frowns deeply as he stares at you. Your blue lips are trembling, your eyes keep falling shut even when you try to keep them open. You are burning up and he knows that your fever is getting higher and higher. There is a light whistle in your throat as you keep taking deep breaths, struggling to do so. 

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He feels the bile rising up in his throat, nausea sinking in more and more after coming back empty-handed from his run into the nearest town. The pharmacy was empty, completely wiped clean. He couldn’t even find painkillers. 

It was the second pharmacy he tried his luck in. 

He was gone for two hours, and your state got worse in the meantime. 

Eddie is sitting on the bench, biting his fingernails as he stares at you. He’s not moving, he is just sitting there, watching you wide-eyed… like you had already left. 

Nancy is pacing back and forth with the map in her hand. Her eyebrows are furrowed strongly, her blue eyes showing nothing but stress. 

“Sunshine?” Steve whispers, brushing away the hair in your face. He winces at the hotness of your skin, he can’t imagine how bad you must be feeling right now. He moves his hands down to your blanket and brings it up higher, rubbing your arm over it. 

“Hmm?” You open your eyes and squint them when your vision blurs, and he appears twice before you. 

He places his hand on your forehead, cupping it. 

“How bad are you feeling right now?”

You’re not in control of your body, it’s too weak. You can’t push yourself up and convince him that you are feeling fine, not even if you tried. You can imagine what you look like right now. 

You clear your throat only to wince in pain at the soreness in you. 

“I’m… still hanging on.” Your voice is hoarse. Barely. You are barely holding on. You’re in and out of sleep, your body is feeling weaker as the hours go by, and you are not sure how much longer you can go without medicine. “Still hanging on, Stevie.” 

Your hand falls to his wrist, and he nearly flinches at the coldness of it. The sickness is spreading, claiming you entirely. It all happened too quickly. It happened in the blink of an eye. 

Your touch is usually so warm, now it’s icy cold. The look in your eyes is always filled with happiness; now it’s… it’s pained yet empty. Your energy, usually so contagious, is now barely there, gone… dead. 

The sickening realization begins to sink in the longer he looks at you. 

You came into his life so suddenly. You came out of nowhere. You stepped into it and shone a bright light into his greying life. He was wilting, like all the flowers in this world, until you came along and gave him what he needed; the sun. Only recently did he begin to see the good in things, even out here in this wasteland. He was trying to see the good. He was trying to look forward to things. He was trying to live. 

But now with you falling sick, he is already beginning to lose that part of himself once again. 

Will he lose you suddenly too? 

This is why he didn’t want to let you in. 

He let you in just to lose you again. 

He can’t let that happen, not again. 

“Keep hanging on for me, okay?” He whispers, shaking you a little. There is desperation in his voice and also in his eyes. 

Your mouth twitches, lips curling into a smile. You squeeze his wrist, even if weakly. 

“Always.” You whisper. 

Steve tries to smile, but it barely comes out as such. 

“Promise?” He leans closer, missing the warmth of you. 

You nod and hum softly. 

“Promise, Stevie.” 

He blinks a few times. The beating of his heart changes, becoming intense the longer he thinks about what will happen if he doesn’t find medicine in time. His chest starts to ache more and more. 

He won’t bear it. He won’t. 

“You will be okay,” he assures you, taking your hand into his own, he gives it a tight squeeze. “You hear me? I’m gonna get you some antibiotics and you will be okay again, sunshine.” 

Your eyelashes flutter as you look into his hazel eyes. Even through your haze, you can now see the worry in them, the fear. The fear of having to bury someone else. 

You take a deep breath and lick your lips. You rub your thumb against his knuckles, admiring the softness in his features. 

“Is that… worry I see on your face, Cowboy?” You manage to ask, chuckling softly. 

Eddie smiles behind Steve, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. He is worried, just as worried as Steve is. 

“Get some more sleep, okay?” Steve whispers as he adjusts the pillow beneath your head. 

Nancy takes another look at you. Not a single word falls from her lips, but her eyes say it all. She doesn’t want to lose another friend. She turns away and walks back to the driver's seat. She sits down and stares at the road with a blank look on her face. She takes a few deep breaths, trying to mend the fear that is building up in her. 

She looks into the rearview mirror, watching how Steve refuses to leave your side, even after tucking you in already. His body is tense, she can see it in his back and his shoulders. 

He cares about you. He is afraid to lose you – even if he won’t admit it out loud. 

She looks down at the map in the passenger seat, she grabs it and unfolds it. She goes over the areas you have marked up as safe. Steve had already gone through two of those towns and he came back empty handed. There is another that hasn’t been checked out yet, about ten miles down the road. 

She doubts that the pharmacy will be any different there. 

What worries her is the areas that have been marked as unsafe – the red areas. The big towns and the cities that are crawling with infected. She has a hunch that that is where they can find the medicine that you need, that is where they will have some sort of luck but it’s dangerous. Very dangerous. 

Even with her hunch, there is no guarantee that there will be any antibiotics or painkillers and even if, the chance to come back alive from a place crawling with the dead is zero to one. 

She looks back at Steve once more, she knows that he will want to try, she knows that he will try. 

But how will she let him, knowing that he will walk right into his death. 

She can’t lose you. She can’t lose him either. 

She can’t lose the both of you. 

So she hopes, she really hopes that the next safest town is where luck will be on your side. 

Eddie plops down in the passenger seat with a sigh. He turns to look at her, sharing the worry that is painted into her eyes. Nothing has to be said. They both feel the same thing. They both feel fear. They don’t want to experience another loss. They don’t want to feel the loss of you. 

Eddie takes the map from Nancy’s hands. He squints his eyes as he looks down at it, at the next destination. Another small town. 

Nancy can see the doubtful look on his face and the uncertainty in his eyes. She feels the same. 

“It’s worth a try.” She whispers, shrugging as she starts the RV. 

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs as he sinks into his seat. “What if it turns out to be just like all the towns before though?” 

She shrugs but she knows the answer to that. She knows where to look. But she isn’t ready for that. She looks into the rearview mirror one more time, watching as Steve settles into the seat closest to you. There is worry in his features but there is also something else now. Determination. 

She breathes out shakily and holds the steering wheel tightly as she presses her foot onto the gas pedal. 

“I don’t know.”

-

Just like Nancy had suspected, Steve and Eddie came back empty handed after yet another unsuccessful run into a town. Two days have passed since then and your condition only worsened. 

She had tried her best to treat you with herbs, making you soup and tea. Keeping you warm with blankets and making sure that the RV wasn’t cold at any time. Though nothing was helping. 

Steve’s state wasn’t great either. He slept less than usual, ate less and was mostly on his feet when not in the RV. He was searching and searching. But the longer he went without finding you the things that you need, the more he grew sick with worry but also with anger. 

And it is showing now especially. 

The anger has taken hold of him completely. Disbelief and pure rage lingers in his usual hazel eyes, now they are dark with fury. 

Eddie stands beside Nancy, though he isn’t looking at the map spread on the hood of the RV or between them. He is busy looking down at the city before them. Red lightning curses over it, thunder rumbles in the sky and the earth beneath his feet shakes every few minutes. Chills run down his back. Red lightning is never a good sign. It means the affected city or town is infested with something, crawling with the dead. 

It’s unsafe. 

“We can’t go out there.” Nancy states, keeping her arms crossed. And it makes sense, it is stupid to go out there, dangerous. 

She knows there is no point in arguing with him. But she can’t let him do this. 

“This place is crawling with infected, with monsters and whatnot!” She snaps at him after a long moment of staring into his glaring eyes. “Look at it, Steve! Open your goddamn eyes!” 

With his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face, he glares at her. 

“My eyes are open, Nance. Are yours?” He snaps back, feeling the anger rush through his veins. “I don’t care what this place is crawling with, I don’t care what’s out there. I care about what’s in there!” He almost yells as he points at the closed door of the RV. “She’s sick and she is not getting any better. She won’t get better. She is barely hanging on!” 

Nancy clenches her jaw, faltering a little. 

He is right. 

You won’t get better, not without antibiotics. She is not a doctor and she doesn’t know for sure but given the fact that you got caught in the rain and spent all night stuck in a cold car, it has to be pneumonia. Your symptoms align with the sickness. And she remembers what Mike looked like when he had it a few years back, at least until he got the medicine that he needed. 

“How much longer does she have, huh?” Steve throws his hands up. He feels grateful that it’s anger leading his emotions now and not something else. 

Nancy turns away from him, closing her eyes, she pinches the bridge of her nose. Frustration bubbles up inside of her but also fear of what will happen in the next few days or even in the next few hours if you don’t get the help that you need. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie mumbles, putting his hands up. He shakes his head at Steve. “Don’t.”

Steve scoffs as he turns to face him now. “Don’t what? Don’t speak the truth? You know I’m right, Munson. You know we have no other choice but to make that run. You don’t wanna go with me? Fine. I get it. But I am going–”

“No, you are not!” Nancy points her finger at him as she turns back around. “You are not making that run! It’s a death sentence! What good will it do to go in there?” She asks, pointing into the direction of the city. “You are not coming back. How is that gonna change anything?” 

Steve can’t believe what he is hearing, what he is seeing when he takes a look at Eddie. He looks uncertain, like he is agreeing with her. 

Disappointment fills his heart as he looks at his friends. 

“I survived Starcourt, I survived the upside down, I survived this world. What makes you think that I’m not capable of coming back alive from this?” 

He doesn’t care how he will do it, if he will have to fight his way through monsters or a hoard of infected. He doesn’t care if he will have to look all day if it means saving you. 

He feels responsible for what happened. He keeps telling himself that this could have been prevented. If he just set up camp like he planned to do, none of this would have happened. 

Seeing you like this now pains him and it reminds him of why he didn’t want to let you in, in the first place. He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to like you. He didn’t want to have to worry again. The moment he started doing so, you were already tainted by his bad luck. You were already just another loss in his life. You were another temporary thing. 

But he can’t let that happen. He can’t lose you. Not now. 

They stay quiet. Both of them. It only fills him with an even deeper disappointment. 

“I can’t believe you… You cared so much back in Hawkins. What happened to that?” 

Eddie lifts his head, his eyebrows furrow in anger, his eyes flash with it too while Nancy looks down with a guilt ridden look on her face. 

“I care, alright? I care but Nancy is right, this out there… is a death sentence! We are walking straight into it and we might not come back!”

“We can fucking try!” Steve yells, not caring about keeping his volume down any longer. “I will try, I don’t give a damn about what you will do but I’m trying–”

“Don’t fight…” Your weak voice cuts in and Steve’s head instantly snaps towards you. You’re standing leaned against the doorway to the RV. A thin blanket is wrapped around your shoulders. Your hair is hanging loosely down your shoulders, no sign of a braid there like usual. You look worse than before. Your skin is losing its color. Your eyes look dull. Your face looks thinner. You look even sicker out here in the daylight. And it makes his chest ache terribly. “Don’t fight because of me.” 

You make your way down the steps on shaky and weak legs. 

Eddie holds his hand up towards you and Nancy uncrosses her arms as she eyes you worriedly. Steve instantly takes a step forward, already holding his hands up just in case. 

A cough breaks out of your mouth, causing your entire body to jolt in pain. You hold your hand up to your lips and clutch your stomach. Before you can even try to catch yourself, your knees buckle and you lose balance, nearing the ground as you fall. 

“Whoa!” Steve mumbles loudly as he reaches his arms out to you, sweeping them under your armpits and catching you before the fall. He lifts you up and hugs you to his chest. “You’re supposed to be in bed.” He grumbles into your ear. 

You sniffle, blinking away the tears that build up in your sensitive eyes. You can’t find it in yourself to fight him, to step away and stand on your own feet. You are weak. You hate it. 

“I don’t want you to fight because of me.” You repeat in desperation, lifting your head and looking up at him with your glassy eyes. 

This is why he didn’t want to care again. 

This hurts. 

The worry. The fear. The pain that takes over his heart from seeing you suffer. 

Your body feels weak against him. Your eyes are so… lifeless. He can’t bear it. He can’t. 

“Come on,” he whispers as he begins to lead you back into the RV. He wraps his arm around your waist and holds you tightly, helping you up the stairs. “Let’s get you back inside.” 

You comply but not without looking back at Nancy and Eddie one more time. You part your lips, wanting to say something but no words come from your mouth when you see the way they look at you. Like they are worried, like they are sick with fear, like they are already grieving. 

You blink. 

Even through the haze in your mind, you realize the look on their faces. They care. They care because you mean something to them. Because you are not only their companion now but also a friend. 

The tears that welled up in your eyes before were from physical pain, the ones now are emotional. For the first time in your life, you found people who see you as a friend. An actual friend. Not someone to use and toss away when you are no longer needed. They see you as their friend just like you see them too.

And of course you had to find them during the end of the world, getting closer and closer to them in the process, only to fall sick. It’s only a matter of time until you close your eyes for the last time. You can feel it. You can feel the sickness claiming you whole. You can feel death creeping up on you. This is just your luck. 

Steve leads you back to your bed and helps you back down. He grabs your legs gently and puts them on the mattress carefully before he tucks you in, making sure the pillow is comfortable and soft beneath your head. 

Even he started caring. Even he became your friend. 

You look at his face, at his features that were always so covered in anger and defensiveness when you first met him. Now they are soft. His hazel eyes are filled with sadness and it doesn’t help your case at all. 

A tear slips from your eyes and down your cheek. You try to lift your hand to wipe it away before he sees it but you are too slow. 

His eyebrows knit together and he places his hand on your shoulder. 

“What’s wrong? Did it get worse…? Are you–”

“I’m weighing you guys down,” you whisper, shakily. Your lips curl downwards as tears start falling freely. “Y-You were right. I am a nuisance. Now I am one.”

Anger bubbles up inside of him but also guilt for ever saying something like that about you. 

He shakes his head, squeezing your shoulder softly as he brings his other hand up to your cheek, wiping away the tears. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he glares at you. 

Your bottom lip wobbles and your chest heaves as you try to breathe. You clutch your blanket tightly. 

“It’s the truth… You already slowed down because of me and made unnecessary runs–”

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done it too.”

You would. Of course you would. You would do anything for them. For him. 

You swallow and the scratchiness, the dryness in your throat makes you wince and causing more tears to build up in your eyes. You close them and try to take deep breaths. 

Whatever he is saying, you know that you are right. You are weighing them down and they – he is taking unnecessary risks just to help you. You will never forgive yourself if something happens to him while he is trying to save you. 

“Leave–” You pause when your voice cracks. You try to keep your composure, to keep breathing, to stop crying. You open your eyes again and look at him. “Leave me in the nearest house, I’ll be okay…”

Steve looks at you as though you had gone crazy. His eyes flash with disbelief as anger rushes through him. How dare you make him care only to give up so easily now? 

“We are not doing that.” It’s not his voice that sounds through the RV, it’s Eddie’s. He is looking at you just like Steve is, though with less anger and with more sadness.

Steve is starting to breathe heavily as the seriousness of this whole situation sinks in more and more. His heart beats a little faster. Desperation clings to him. 

“You have to… You are going off the main road for me,” you say with a heavy voice, looking between Eddie and Nancy, who now stands in the doorway too, shaking her head in disapproval. 

Steve pushes himself up, getting back on his feet. He runs his fingers through his hair and he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to think, to think of a solution. 

Nancy pushes past him and kneels down before you. Her blue eyes are troubled, filled with emotions you can’t all read. She brings her hand up to your forehead, cupping it gently. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers.

Steve looks down at you as he paces around. He can read you so well. You, you are usually so hopeful. Filled with life and the will to live and fight your way through this world. You are now ready to give up, to find a place to die. 

This is not what you want. This was never something that you wanted. This had always been something you were afraid of, you told him that before. You were afraid to die alone. You were afraid to lose your life before finding your way back home and seeing your family. 

Now you are right where you never wanted to be. 

“It does– My house, my address, it’s on my ID… so if you head there, tell my parents–”

“Shut up!” He yells, exploding. He can’t do this. He can’t listen to you talk like this. He can’t watch you giving up. 

You flinch a little, staring wide eyed at him but with eyes still glassy like before. Nancy looks down while Eddie eyes him, scanning his face and the look in his eyes. 

Steve clenches his jaw, pointing his finger at you as he breathes heavily. 

“I– We are not leaving you!” He snaps at you, holding back his own tears. “Get that through that thick head of yours. We are not leaving you.” 

He gives you another pointed look before he snatches the map out of Eddie’s hand and makes his way over to the driver’s seat, where neither Eddie nor Nancy can see him. He plops down and opens the map but his breathing is so heavy and his eyes burn so hotly that he can’t focus on it. 

He leans back and closes his eyes, he swallows the lump in his throat. This moment reminds him of what he lost. This reminds him of what could have been if he just handled in time. This feels like he is living through it all once again and it kills him.

He made mistakes before. He won’t do them again. He won’t experience another loss. He won’t let anything take away from him again. 

Never again.

-

It’s silent and peaceful. The RV has never been quieter than this. It’s dark inside, except for the small candle burning on the table he is sitting at. The fire outside where Nancy and Eddie sit around, isn’t large enough to shine through the windows. They had to keep it low to avoid unwanted attention from the city nearby. Monsters and infected probably don’t come out this far, but it’s always better to be safe. 

He is staring at his backpack, at the nailed bat that has accompanied him for years now. He is tapping his finger against the counter, fighting an inner battle as his eyes flicker back and forth between you, his backpack and the red lightning in the distance. 

He knows what he has to do. 

It’s quiet. Too quiet. 

He leans his body in your direction, squinting his eyes as he looks at you, trying to see better in the darkness. 

His heart leaps a little the longer he watches you. You aren’t moving. At all. Your chest isn’t rising up and down anymore. It looks like you stopped… breathing. 

“No…” He whispers as he gets back on his feet, swallowing the growing nausea as he looks at your pale face. He feels like throwing up already, his heart is racing in his chest as he crouches down before you. He whispers your name, once… twice… 

“Sunshine?” Steve whispers shakily as he brings his hand up to your face. 

“Still here…” You manage to croak out. Your lashes flutter when you open your eyes as best as you can. 

His head hangs low for a moment as his eyes close and he takes a deep breath. His hand moves down to your wrist and then to your hand, he holds it softly. 

Thank god. 

“I’m still here, Cowboy.” You whisper before your eyes fall shut again and sleep begins to lull you back in again. 

Still. You are still here. 

He knows what he has to do. He knows what he will do. 

He tilts his head up again, watching how you take slow and weak breaths. But you are still here. 

He is determined, desperate. He moves closer to you, running his fingers through your hair, he tucks it away and out of your face. He caresses your cheek, feeling his heart long, feeling it ache for something else entirely – though he pushes it aside… for now… or for always. 

“You’re gonna be okay, Sunshine. I promise. You hear me?” 

You only hum in response. 

“Just hang on for me, okay? Hang on.” Steve whispers as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it. A kiss you barely feel. A kiss you will forget. 

He gets back up and puts his jacket on, no longer caring about Eddie’s and Nancy’s plans. Time is running out. Time that you don’t have. He won’t sit here and watch you wilt. He won’t sit here while you die. He won’t let that happen. Never again. So he grabs his backpack and Nancy’s rifle that she left inside the RV after swapping it for your gun. 

He looks through the blinds on the window, making sure that neither of them will come in when he slips out but they seem to be in a deep conversation. They won’t notice. 

Steve turns around to face you one more time. His soft eyes stay on you for a second. His heart pounds in his chest, his body fills with adrenaline at what he is about to do. 

You will be okay. He will make sure of that. 

He will fix this again. 

“I’ll be back soon, Sunshine.” He promises and he prays to whatever is above to protect you, to make you hold on a little longer. He wishes he had something to keep you safe with. 

Steve falters in his step when he remembers the hair tie around his wrist. He looks down at it, at the lilac colored hair tie that belonged to his best friend. It’s old. Back from the Family Video days. Robin always forgot to grab extra hair ties or clips and would then complain about her hair getting into her face and being unable to tie it back. At one point he bought a package of hair ties and would put one around his wrist until it needed to be used. The lilac one was her favorite. 

He traces it before he takes it off his wrist. He tiptoes back to you and he picks up your wrist gently, placing the hair tie around it. He holds your wrist for a moment, tapping it softly. 

He never believed in things like this, but maybe it’s a good idea to start now. 

“Keep her safe for me,” he whispers to her.

Steve squeezes your hand reassuringly before he turns around and slips away from you and out of the RV. 

-

The wood in the fire crackles, the wind blows through the trees around the place they set up camp in. The red lightning in the distance isn’t close enough to illuminate the sky above them but it keeps flashing in their peripheral vision. 

Eddie is staring into the fire. He is quiet unlike usual. 

Nancy doesn’t mind the silence but it feels odd not to hear his voice. She feels the tension radiating off him. She feels it herself. 

A stack of books lies on the grass beside her feet. Books about herbs, about natural remedies for sicknesses. But everything she tried helping you with was to no avail. Not the eucalyptus teas nor the peppermint. You need antibiotics and fever reducers. Steve is right. 

“I was thinking…” Eddie finally speaks up after hours of silence between them. Since they sat down to do night watch, they haven’t talked at all. Nancy was too immersed in reading the books beside her while Eddie had scanned the map over and over, and tried to come up with a plan. 

Nancy looks up from the book, cocking her eyebrow in question. 

He straightens in his seat, pressing his hands together as he leans forward, not looking away from the fire yet. 

“I’m making the run into the city come morning,” he states, determined. “Those books won’t help,” he points at the ones she has read through already. “And we can’t rely on the smaller towns ahead of us.”

She opens her mouth to speak but Eddie holds his hand up at her and finally looks into her eyes. 

“Small towns are usually safe, they’re not crawling with infected or monsters as much as big cities are. People like us, survivors go for places like these. They avoid that,” he mumbles,  pointing his thumb into the direction where the city lies. “It’s crawling with fucking everything, so people won’t even try to get in there, which means we have the best chance at finding stuff there. Everything that she needs, antibiotics, pain killers, fever reducers.”

Nancy’s shoulders slump. Her eyebrows knit together as she looks at the RV. 

He is right, just like Steve is. 

He is right and she knows it's what needs to be done. 

She nods slowly, closing the book in her hand, she throws it on the ground. Leaning back into her camping chair, she looks into the fire. 

“Okay,” Nancy whispers, accepting the danger he is about to face. She is about to face. She won’t let you die.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, tilting his head down a little as his brown eyes scan her face. 

She nods again and looks up at him. 

“Yeah, but I’m going with you.” 

He doesn’t protest. He works best with her. 

“In and out, easy… right?” Eddie chuckles, though his heart skips a nervous beat. 

Her lip twitches, curling into a small smile as she looks at the guy who became her closest friend. Her best friend. 

“Easy.” 

He takes a deep breath and nods to himself. He looks up at the sky. 

“Sun is gonna rise soon,” he comments as he looks at the faint light behind the clouds. 

“Yeah.” 

He gets up with a sigh, “I’m gonna go tell Steve.” 

“Alright.” Nancy gives him a tight lipped smile. 

He turns around and starts making his way towards the stairs of the RV. He reaches his hand out to grab the handle. One step closer and he halts in his tracks when the sound of rustling makes him freeze. 

A cold shudder runs down his spine when he turns back around. His eyes instantly lock with Nancy’s. Her blue eyes are troubled and she instantly pushes herself up, grabbing your gun from her belt. 

“Whoa,” Eddie whispers, making his way back to her side after he grabs the axe he left on the ground. 

“Could be an animal,” Nancy murmurs as she scans the area. She ignores the beating of her heart. 

She parked the RV right next to a big forest, making sure that it was hidden behind trees and bushes, now it doesn’t seem to be the best idea as she looks around trying to spot the culprit who caused the noises. 

Eddie squints his eyes, grabbing the handle of the axe tighter as he steps in front of her. 

“It better be.” He mumbles nervously. He doesn’t want to get caught by an infected or a demo– something. 

He feels his heart in his throat when he sees the figure descending out from behind the bushes, pushing its way out onto the field and in his and Nancy’s direction. 

“Fuck…” 

Nancy swallows. She clicks the safety off on the gun and brings it up a little, not aiming yet. 

“Infected or Human?” 

Eddie shrugs as he scans the way the figure carries themselves, the steps and the posture. 

“What’s worse?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at her. 

Nancy lifts one shoulder as she straightens her back, ready to take the shot if needed. 

“You do know that if we shoot, everything that might be around will get drawn in by the noise…”

“I know,” Nancy sighs, cursing inwardly for not looking for silencers before. “It’s not an infected… it’s–”

“Put the gun down, Nance.” 

“Steve!?” Eddie and Nancy gasp in unison. 

He speeds up his movements once Nancy holsters her gun again and Eddie drops the axe. They don’t even manage to take in the sight of him, to take in the state he is in. He brushes past them so quickly, heading into the RV like he can’t waste a single second to get to you. His backpack is clinking loudly. He throws open the door and rushes in. 

Eddie’s confused face meets Nancy’s, they share a look before they follow him inside. 

They both notice how fast and loudly he is breathing as he sets the rifle down, leaning it against the wall. He hurries into the back of the RV, throwing off his backpack carefully as he sets it down on the ground beside the bed you are lying in. 

Steve drops to his knees before you, not even giving that moment to himself to breathe, to calm down. He spent hours feeling on edge, worrying about you, worrying about making it out alive. And he ran, he ran all the way from the city to here, not stopping for a second, not stopping to catch his breath or look back to make sure that nothing was following. He just needed to get to you. That’s all that mattered to him, he didn’t care about anything else. 

He places his hand on your shoulder, shaking you softly. 

“Sunshine?” He whispers as he brings his other hand up to your cheek, tapping it gently. “You with me?” 

A grumble falls from your mouth. You shift on the bed as you wake up slowly. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink, opening your eyes after a few seconds. 

Steve’s shoulders slump in relief, and he breathes out a loud sigh. He closes his eyes for a moment. He takes a deep breath before he opens his eyes again and gets into action. He grabs his backpack and zips it open, taking out the medicine he found inside of a hospital. 

Nancy stares at him, watching as he takes out one bottle after another.

“What–”

“You went out there by yourself?” Eddie snaps at him. 

And if you weren’t so weak and delirious, you would have been surprised at the anger in his tone and in his eyes. 

Steve ignores them both. He ignores everything, even the injuries he came back with. He clenches his jaw. Taking out the antibiotics and the tylenol, he drops them on the bedside table before he gets up and makes his way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water and wash his hands before giving you the medicine. 

He doesn’t even spare them a look. 

“Are you crazy, Steve?” Nancy asks, crossing her arms over her chest as she inspects the dirt on his face, the blood dripping from the fresh wound on his cheek and one over his eyebrow. 

“You could have died, man!” Eddie throws his hands up, glaring at his friend who glares back at him. 

“She could have fucking died!” Steve yells, throwing his finger into your direction. He blinks in anger as he makes his way back to you. A huff falls from his lips, angry at his friends still. 

He is tired and exhausted from hiding and running all night, from having to crawl on the ground to stay hidden from monsters and infected. A few infected still managed to creep up on him, and two or three demobats caused the wounds on his face. But he is fine. He is fine now. 

They both fall quiet behind him, watching how he tends to you. 

He places the glass on the table and leans down, scooping his arm under your back, “c’mon, you need to get up for a second.”

You don’t protest, but you are weak, and you would not be able to get back up by yourself. You squint your eyes as you look at him. Your mind is still in a haze and everything is confusing to you at this moment but you see the dirt and the blood on his face. The messy hair and the exhausted look in his features. 

“What happened?” 

“Don’t worry about it now,” he whispers. 

Steve grabs the antibiotics, taking out a pill. He places it into the palm of your hand, “here, take it.” He mumbles and reaches for the glass of water. 

He helps you bring your hand up to your lips, you put the pill in your mouth and take a sip of the water he holds out to you, swallowing it. You repeat the motion when he hands you one of the painkillers. 

He watches you carefully. Wiping away the drop of water that runs down your chin and tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Thank you,” you whisper softly when you pull away from him, eyes dropping from the tiredness again. 

Steve’s eyes soften when you try to smile at him, even now, even when you feel like absolute shit. 

“Anytime, honey.” He promises. The nickname falling from his lips so naturally. 

He helps you back down and tucks you in again, just like he did before, just like he did all the days leading up to this moment. His eyes fall on the hair tie. He leaves it there. 

Nancy and Eddie look at each other, their anger fleeting away more and more. Relief filling them instead but also still fear… for him now too. 

“There’s… I got a bunch of stuff,” Steve explains as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Nance, can you place an IV for her? I got one of those bags but I don’t know how–”

She nods, “yeah… yeah, of course. But your wounds need–”

“I’m fine. Just a cut…” He murmurs tiredly as he gets up, walking away and towards the couch. 

Eddie huffs at his friend when he brushes past him. He can’t help but slap him over his head. 

Steve flinches, squinting his eyes at him.

“For being a moron,” Eddie glares. “I would have gone with you, man.”

Steve shakes his head, scoffing softly as he plops down on the couch. He grunts in pain when he takes off his jacket, throwing it on the ground. His eyes start dropping suddenly as the tiredness hits fully. 

“I was sneaky… stealthy like a ninja.” 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at the comment that reminds him of who he once used to be. 

“Didn’t even have to kill a thing… and now… I will sit here and I will see if she…” he slurs, eyes falling shut slowly. He mumbles your name before he passes out completely. 

Eddie stares at him for a moment, noticing the cut on his arm and the blood dripping down from the wound. 

“Stealthy like a ninja my ass,” Eddie snorts. He takes his own jacket off and pushes the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows, ready to tend to his wounds. 

-

His muscles are sore, aching in every spot in his body but his arms and legs especially. The cut on his arm strains against his skin, making him wince in pain when he stretches both arms out. A grunt leaves his lips as he peaks his eyes open when the sunlight hits his face. 

He draws back in confusion when he looks down at the sheets covering his body, at the big window next to the bed. There isn’t one behind the couch. This isn’t where he fell asleep last night. 

Steve presses his palms against the sheets beneath him, he pushes himself up and turns his head. His eyes widen in surprise when he finds you next to him, sitting up and looking right at him. A weak smile gracing your lips. 

It takes him a moment to move. The words get caught in his throat when his heart skips a beat. The golden light of the sun kisses your face so softly, bringing out all the specks of colors in your eyes and the undertone in your hair that frames your face so prettily right now. You rarely wear it open, it’s always in one or two braids. He likes it like this. A lot. 

You look so much better than the night before. The circles under your eyes are still there but your face has taken on a little color again and you can sit up straight once more. 

“Hey…” Your whisper pulls him out of his stupor. He blinks a few times before he finally pushes himself up, reaching his arm out to you, he notices the bandage around his bicep and he realizes that Eddie must have taken care of his wounds before he carried him over to the bed to sleep next to you. 

Heat creeps up to his cheeks and he blushes a little. 

“A-Are you okay?” He whispers, placing his hand on your back. “Shit… what time is it?” He looks down at his watch, needing to make sure that you get your dose of medicine every eight hours. 

You take his hand, filling him with even more relief when he feels the warmth in it again. 

“I’m better.” 

Steve looks away from his wrist and back up at you. Hazel eyes shining with hope. 

“Yeah?” He leans closer, keeping his hand on you. 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and nod, blinking as your eyes grow sensitive. 

“Mhmm.”

You woke up confused this morning. Your body felt sore, and your throat still ached but you felt better, so much better. You didn’t understand why at first, not until you noticed him lying next to you, facing you. You remembered then what had happened the night before. How he gave you the medicine, how dirty he was, how wounded he was. 

He went out there for you. He went into the city to get you medicine, to save you. 

Steve risked his life for you. 

Steve who seemed so cold at first. Steve who didn’t want you around at first. Steve who you thought didn’t care about you. 

No one ever did that for you. No one ever cared enough to even do the littlest thing for you. 

But he went out there, knowing that he could have died trying to save you. 

It tugs at your heartstrings to know that he cares about you enough to do this. It warms your chest. It makes you feel safe. He makes you feel safe. 

Steve creeps into your heart more and more every day and you can no longer lie to yourself or deny the feelings that grow for him. 

You eye the mess on his head, the wild hair. The tiredness in his eyes. The wound he caught for you. You lift your hand up to his cheek, tracing his skin with your finger. 

His lips curl upwards, his eyes flicker with something you can’t read. 

You lean closer to him and close your eyes. You press your lips against his shoulder, giving it a soft peck. 

“Thank you,” you whisper and look up at him. 

Steve can see what flashes in your eyes. He knows what you are thinking, what you are feeling and it makes his heart ache. 

He would do it again. Again and again. 

No words leave his mouth but his actions speak louder. He wraps his arms around you and he pulls you into his embrace, hugging you softly. 

You accept the hug instantly, grabbing his shirt, you press your cheek against his chest and let yourself fall into him and it doesn’t take you a minute, not even a second to understand why it feels so warm, why it feels so right. 

This is more than just attraction. 

This is more than what you thought it was. 

And it scares you. 

But you are not the only one scared, he is too. When he wraps his arms around you tighter and he presses his lips to the top of your head, he feels his heart warming in his chest when you curl into him. 

Steve feels the urge to not let go, to keep you in his embrace, to keep you safe, to protect you. 

But not like his other friends, no, he wants to protect you in a different way. 

And that scares him too. Especially because he had never felt anything like this before. Never. 

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk @xxladymjxx

[cubur]

I’ve been seeing your art all around the internet and trying to find your page where you are active. I finally found your tumblr and was so happy until I saw the posts about your pet and how bad you are feeling. I just wanted to let you know that your art truly brings light into my life and even if you stop drawing it has forever impacted me. I wanted to say thank you and I hope you will return one day.

Hello！ Well, I probably haven't been around for 3 months. I've had the chance to read all the messages now… And I realize i've caused a lot of you to worry, so even though i can't answer each of you individually at this point, i thought you at least had the right to know what was going on.

Ok, when I lost my cat about 3 months ago, I lost many things along with it. I don't know if you guys noticed, but i'm not as active as i used to be. In fact, I can't even remember the last time i drew narusasu …it feels like i've forgotten how to. Honestly I never imagined this day would come… I mean… I don't know how this sounds to you guys, but i won't be able to be active on this account anymore even if i wanted to. I've been trying to hide it, but i've been having arguments with my family about my fan arts for the past year or so. No, not in the way you might think. It's just… maybe many of you won't understand, but my country is going through serious financial struggles, and unfortunately i no longer have the time to create art for free like i used to.

For over ten years, I've been making a living by drawing at my desk, creating things online, whether good or bad. But at some point it stopped making me happy, yes, and that's when I started drawing fanart. Believe or not, the sense of warmth and belonging I felt here was something i had never experienced anywhere else. Yes ofcourse I love Naruto and Sasuke, but the warmth I felt and the feeling of knowing that i wasn't alone was what truly brought me here. Some of you made me laugh, some of you made me cry, and some of you even made me really angry at times. But throughout my life, I've met very few people whom i truly felt close to, and one of them was someone i met thanks to this community. That's why I want to sincerely thank you all！If I've been fighting all this time, it's because I don't want to leave you all. But after a certain point, trying to manage both of my accounts actively caused me to spend extra energy mentally and even physically. So, in the end, I burned out.

Recently, every time I drew sns, i ended up arguing with my family, and it just made me feel like this was the place i should give up. Unfortunately, people can change when it comes to money and that's why I had to take a break.

If you ask where I am now and what I'm doing, i'm still doing one of the things i love, i mean drawing, but active and working on my other account, which is completely different from this one. I'm not planning on closing my account here yet, still have unfinished commissions, and just want to leave the door ajar in case i still have a chance to come back in the future. But still, if you were to ask my honest opinion, I would say don't get your hopes up too much…

No matter what, take care of yourselves guys！ Thank you！❤️

[maidenofcrows]

Aw, thanks for the tag! I’ve been working on this little by little throughout the day lol

What's the origin of your blog title?: I had an oc what feels like forever ago now. Her middle name was Imogen and her last name was Crowe. Imogen means “maiden” and, well… crows. It was really funny later to discover that there’s an Imogen in Six of Crows

OTP(s) + Their shipname; Kaz x Inej (kanej), Odysseus x Penelope (odypen), Genya x David (genyadavid)… those are the main ones

Favourite colour?: A sage-y green that I can pair with either black or lavender depending on how much whimsy I’m feeling

Favourite game?: Oh idk. I don’t really play video games. Or board games. Or card games. I do sometimes give hollow knight a try, so I guess that one

What song is currently stuck in your head?: Neverland by TE/MO

Weirdest habit/trait?: I’m a creature of habit to the point where I feel immensely disregulated if the routine changes

Hobbies: I’ve got a fairly long list, so I’ll just give you the recent ones. Sailing, archery (though it’s been a hot minute), sewing, circus, and sometimes traveling

If you work, what's your profession?: I’m a seamstress at a local theatre. Not professional, not community, but somewhere in between. I make and alter costumes, mostly :)

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically?: I keep looking at job postings at Cirque du Soleil and sometimes they do need more costume workers. I think that’s my dream job

Something you're good at: I know I’m good at sewing and I like to think I’m pretty good at trapeze lol

Something you're bad at: Time management :(

Something you love: My cat <3 He’s my baby, my boy, the sweetest joy I’ve known and I love him so much

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: I once spent two hours talking about the Odyssey (it was PowerPoint night), and I think I could do it again

Something you hate: Most textures, tbh. Anything sticky

Something you collect: Lol, mugs

Something you forget: Most things, actually

What's your love language?: Quality time :)

Favourite movie/show: I don’t watch a lot of movies or shows, so that’s tough. I like Studio Ghibli movies (I’ve seen two) and Shadow and Bone

Favourite food: Dolmades. Chickpea salad. Also anything tangy

Favourite animal: I really like animals that have been historically perceived as omens. Black cats, crows, etc. But also I just love animals in general :)

What were you like as a child?: Probably not dissimilar to Alice from Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, but shy and quiet

Favourite subject at school?: English, easy

Least favourite subject: Ugh, math

What's your best character trait?: See, I was originally going to say my best trait is that I’d make a great emergency contact if not for the fact that I don’t answer calls from unknown numbers. Then I overthought that answer. Then I dealt with some unkind drivers. So I’m changing my answer to say it’s that I let other drivers merge in front of me and I don’t tailgate :)

What's your worst character trait?: I cannot maintain a state of organization. I’ve tried, it just keeps unraveling

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? I’d get rid of my celiac disease

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Oh. Uhm. I’m not sure. Maybe Agatha Christie? I have read much of her work, but she sounds like a pretty cool individual

No pressure tags: @daughter-of-skylark @reinanova @mydnyteraven and even though they were already tagged @lunarthecorvus

Get to know your mutuals Game

Oooohh thank you for the tag @holy3cake

No pressure tagging @gwalch-mei @beginning-writer + OPEN TAG FOR ALL to answer these 27 random questions, I'll put a blank version in the comments!

What's the origin of your blog title?

Originally, "OnCrimsonWings" is my Ao3 username, which was a poetic kinda reference to Dante from Devil May Cry because his demon form has red wings. When I made this blog I knew I wanted it to include a reference to Lancelot/The Weeping Monk, so I just added "Lanced" to the Ao3 name.

It works on so many levels- as I also like winged Whumpees as a trope in general, and the name to me brings an image of a winged creature or person pinned by something sharp through the wing. It also works more as a poetic angel metaphor for Lancelot, as he's referred to as a dark/avenging angel in the role he's been molded into by the Church in Cursed, a role which is ultimately his downfall, like a fallen angel with crimson, or bloodied wings...

OTP(s) + Their shipname;

Lancewain; Lancelot (The Weeping Monk) x Gawain (The Green Knight) from Cursed

Melvik; Mel x Viktor from Arcane (also Jayvik; Jayce x Viktor, and Meljayvik; Mel x Jayce x Viktor)

Zaundads/Vanco; Vander x Silco from Arcane

BuckyNat/WinterWidow; Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) x Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier) Marvel

Gwaenyra (Gwayne x Rhaenyra; House of the Dragon)

Colonel Everett Young x Dr. Nicholas Rush; Stargate Universe - I actually never really saw a shipname for these guys or I've forgotten it if I did know one

There's a bunch of others but that will do for now lmao

Favourite colour?

Purple!

Favourite game/s?

The Witcher 3, Skyrim, currently enjoying Monster Hunter, though the thing I have most hours in might actually be Fall Guys...

What song is currently stuck in your head?

In Maidjan by Heilung, I'm excited to see them live again soon!

Weirdest habit/trait?

I sit like a goblin in any and all chairs. (Except for when I'm physically tattooing, or in a formal meeting. Otherwise? If there is a chair I will be perched on it like a bisexual ass Goblin 100% of the time).

Uhhh and I can bend the first knuckle (closest to the fingertips) on my fingers whilst keeping the second/middle knuckles perfectly straight/locked.

Hobbies:

Playing piano, making cosplays, making chainmail, listening to music, playing D&D, keeping snakes and also doing Archery, as of late!

If you work, what's your profession?

Tattooing- for the next two weeks anyway. I also volunteer at my local zoo and do commission pet portraits!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically?

Tattooing but at a studio with a working toilet, repaired roof and decent non falling apart floors, where I am NOT the sole member of the studio 😂

Otherwise, doing something arty like making things or running my small buisness full time. Or if all goes well with this insane Uni plan I have, then working with snakes in some way shape or form. Not sure how, yet but. I dunno, it might be cool.

Something you're good at:

I'm a really creative person and I come up with a lot of really cool ideas!

Something you're bad at:

Maths, I mean I just struggle with numbers in general. And telling my left from right 😂

Something you love: 

Daniel Sharman. I mean. Look at him man's stunning

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: 

Snakes! And I did that when I took the snakes in to Scouts and taught them about snakes with not much prep time at all 😂

Something you hate:

People trying to control other people or put their views on them. (Eg. Very religious people that try and force you to believe their religion. Or Antis that hate on a fictional trope or ship or theme and think no one is allowed to read or write it. That sort of thing)

Something you collect: 

Books! I have several hundered, at this point, and that's after having to bin about 300 due to severe damp in a previous house.

Something you forget: 

I dunno. I forgot

What's your love language?

Giving gifts, I think, but I also like touching/leaning on people who I love (only when my skin doesn't feel bruised, which is basically always, and honestly most of the time I'm touch averse lmao). I'm not really sure.

Favourite movie/show: 

Movie; Labyrinth, Lost Boys, Avatar I & Avatar II: the way of water, LOTR Trilogy

Show; Arcane, The Witcher and Cursed

Favourite food:

I really like homemade stew and mash, but I can't make it (thanks fatigue) so I haven't actually had it in years. I love roasties (roasted potatoes) with copious amounts of butter on.

Favourite animal:

Snakes! Specifically I love Dumeril's Boas, Madagascan Ground Boas- and have one of each myself- and I have a soft spot for Boelen's Pythons and European Adders!

What were you like as a child? 

Always daydreaming in my own little world, shy, but also I had anger issues at the age of 4... so a bit of a shitbag lmao.

Favourite subject at school?

Art or Science, though I also liked music!

Least favourite subject: 

Maths. I always used to get yelled at for refusing to do homework, and for drawing in my book and putting my headphones in to listen to music. (It was actually helping me focus, but the fact I had ADHD was completely missed so I just got yelled at for it. I still got a B in my GCSEs though so fuck em!)

What's your best character trait?

I'm incredibly organised (because if I wasn't my life would be an absolute shambles as my memory is shit), and I'm very good at problem solving! If character trait more means "personality" then it would probably be that I am a very caring person.

What's your worst character trait?

I can be very stubborn and headstrong paired with the fact I am a control freak and like things organised, then that tends to frustrate both the people around me and myself...

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

I'd cure my disabilities. Just so I could continue tattooing and take on the studio- or just open my own elsewhere, or I'd go get a career out in the field with snakes and not have to worry about fatigue, collapse, pain or dietary issues wherever I went!

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

Chester Bennington, 100%. I miss him. It's one of the biggest regrets of my life that I was meant to go and see him live on that final tour and I couldn't afford the tickets thanks to an unexpected bill. He was, and still is my hero.

[ashketeers]

I didn’t even notice until now but I reached 20 followers 💪

Thank you all sm, I didn’t except attention at all tbh but I’m so glad I decided to post online again. I’ve missed interacting w fandoms (that aren’t toxic). There are some really kind people I’ve had the pleasure to interact with <3 and I love sharing my art w y’all and reading all the feedback, I really wanna bring more content to this little community until we get canon stuff.

Thanks again :o)

[anghraine]

jenndoesnotcare replied to this post:

Every time LDS kids come to my neighborhood I am so so nice to them. I hope they remember the blue haired lady who was kind, when people try to convince them the outside world is bad and scary. (Also they are always so young! I want to feed them cookies and give them Diana Wynne Jones books or something)

Thank you! Honestly, this sort of kindness can go a really long way, even if it doesn't seem like it at the time.

LDS children and missionaries (and the majority of the latter are barely of age) are often the people who interact the most with non-Mormons on a daily basis, and thus are kind of the "face" of the Church to non-Mormons a lot of the time. As a result, they're frequently the ones who actually experience the brunt of antagonism towards the Church, which only reinforces the distrust they've already been taught to feel towards the rest of the world.

It's not that the Church doesn't deserve this antagonism, but a lot of people seem to take this enormous pride in showing up Mormon teenagers who have spent most of their lives under intense social pressure, instruction, expectation, and close observation from both their peers and from older authorities in the Church (it largely operates on seniority, so young unmarried people in particular tend to have very little power within its hierarchies). Being "owned" for clout by non-Mormons doesn't prove anything to most of them except that their leaders and parents are right and they can't trust people outside the Church.

The fact that the Church usually does provide a tightly-knit community, a distinct and familiar culture, and a well-developed infrastructure for supporting its members' needs as long as they do [xyz] means that there can be very concrete benefits to staying in the Church, staying closeted, whatever. So if, additionally, a Mormon kid has every reason to think that nobody outside the Church is going to extend compassion or kindness towards them, that the rest of the world really is as hostile and dangerous as they've been told, the stakes for leaving are all the higher, despite the costs of staying.

So people from "outside" who disrupt this narrative of a hostile, threatening world that cannot conceivably understand their experiences or perspectives can be really important. It's important for them to know that there are communities and reliable support systems outside the Church, that leaving the Church does not have to mean being a pariah in every context, that there are concrete resources outside the Church, that compassion and decency in ordinary day-to-day life is not the province of any particular religion or sect and can be found anywhere. This kind of information can be really important evidence for people to have when they are deciding how much they're willing to risk losing.

So yeah, all of this is to say that you're doing a good thing that may well provide a lifeline for very vulnerable people, even if you don't personally see results at the time.

[moraymoth]

wish me luck chat. about a few hours b4 I go into the beyond

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[pokemonruby]

i know that regardless of whether you're trying to advertise your art or attempt to garner donations (and in my case, my post features both prospects) there's always going to be some ingrate who comes in with the violent urge to bully and condemn minorities because the lives of such pathetic, sad people like that typically aren't rewarding enough to encourage them to do something more productive with their time. i've been down this road before.

although i deleted the post from last night since i don't feel like feeding into the unwarranted negativity that they're doubtless trying to farm given that they evidently are unloved by every person they have ever met and need to vent that frustration somehow, i do apologize for clogging my followers' dashboards but at the same time, i have been taught by my friends and therapist that i need to start actively sticking my neck out for myself some more and take up space even if it is dubbed "annoying," and this is the only endeavor i am truly proud of so i'm going to screech it to the world because i know its worth it, i know it deserves recognition, and that i'm a talented, hardworking person who has sacrificed much to get to where i am today and damn it all, i'm going to be unapologetically loud about it!

not to mention, i just generally need some help. it isn't just about my book (even if it is the main thing that i wish to promote since, you know, that's how marketing works) - i'm severely disabled, impoverished, and stuck living with a historically violent, abusive person and i desperately want out before i end up hospitalized or worse since while it's easy for me to devote myself to my craft, i'm also suffering quietly and extensively behind the scenes and i want to start believing that i don't deserve to live like this - no matter how difficult it is for me to admit that.

[quietwingsinthesky]

🌹:O

:3c

Lucifer doesn't care how the labcoats say it works; he knows there's no such thing as a clean break from a drift the minute the plug is pulled. Instead, Michael goes from a second consciousness beside his own to being dragged out of Lucifer the further Lucifer gets from him, both of them gripping tight to the connection until it slips, until it snaps, with a violent recoil that knocks Lucifer's brain out of alignment and reminds his legs that they don't work. His next step falls too fast, too heavily, and refuses to take his weight. It's only Michael, now only a voice outside of Lucifer's head yelling his name, catching him from behind that allows Lucifer to collapse to the floor with his dignity intact.

[sweetandglovelyart]

I swear I’ll start posting art again soon, I have to defend my dissertation proposal this week so as you can imagine I’ve been very stressed and haven’t been able to focus on drawing much of anything… 🫠 but I’m going to try and get some art done before Christmas.

[sheliesshattered]

the trouble with trying to rewrite this particular episode is that the episode, as aired, is just so bad that it's physically painful to rewatch

[voyter]

NO NUT NOVEMBER .. ( 정국 / JJK ) !

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

jungkook and his friends are all in on the internet's most ridiculous trend: no nut november. but you’re determined to make your boyfriend lose — and you know just how to do it.

⟡₊ ⊹ THANKSGIVING SPECIAL !

word count. 8.9k words warnings. stupid fucking nnn challenge. JUNGKOOK IS SOOO DRAMATIC IN THIS OML. competitive koo. oc being petty as fuck. oc a brat hehe. jungkook cannot lie to save his life. he fighting demons in his head. needy koo. slight crack. smut. oral (fem!receiving). MUNCH JK. dry humping. blindfolding (very brief lasts like five seconds). koo loves her boobies. unprotected sex. dom!jk (i dont usually like writing him like this but i didnt hate it).

ana's notes. happy (very late) thanksgiving !!! BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT. this was supposed to be posted after thanksgiving but i got so busy and then the writers block crept up on me :\ .. ANYWAYS i am so grateful for you guys and the support you have shown for my writing, it means a lot since this is a hobby that i love. heres a little silly smutty fic for the holidays !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all <3

There was this utterly ridiculous trend that resurfaced on the internet like clockwork every year — No Nut November.

The viral phenomenon was a joke. Honestly, who in their right mind would actually take part in such a thing?  

Well... Jungkook and his friends would. 

Never ones to back down from a challenge, they had turned the trend into a full-blown competition: the last man standing would walk away with a cash prize collected from everyone who failed. And Jungkook? He wasn’t about to lose. Not to his friends. Not to anyone.  

It wasn’t like he needed the money. Jungkook was doing just fine in that department, thank you very much. But the satisfaction of watching his friends begrudgingly hand over their hard earned cash, faces red with defeat? Fucking priceless. Count him in.

Unbeknownst to you, the bet was in full effect. Therefore, in preparation for what promised to be a painfully unfulfilling month, Jungkook made the most of Halloween night. His desire was overwhelming as he pulled you into his arms again and again. By the time you were both utterly spent, he’d taken you three times — round after relentless round, ensuring he had no regrets before the clock struck midnight.

It was all part of his plan: to have you as many times as he possibly could before November hit and he couldn’t have you at all. He was dead serious about this challenge. Winning was secondary — what mattered most was that he didn’t lose.  

By the first week of November — just five days in — Jungkook had been doing surprisingly well. His restraint was impressive, and he’d managed to keep his touches brief and calculated. The physical contact between you two had been limited to sweet, innocent moments: the kisses you shared when he left and came home from work, the soft pecks exchanged before falling asleep, or the comforting warmth of cuddling. None of it lingered too long, and Jungkook was acutely aware of how easily even the smallest touch could spiral into something much harder to resist.  

But Jungkook’s plan didn’t seem to work so well after all. As the week drew closer to its end, you began to get eager.  

Your arms would wrap around his waist from behind, your chest pressing against his back as you left featherlight kisses against the nape of his neck. Each one sent a shiver down his spine, your breath warm and teasing against his skin. Your fingers trailed along his arms and shoulders a little longer than usual, like they couldn’t bear to part from him. When you kissed him, your lips lingered just a second too long, brushing against his with a softness that made his heart pound and his resolve crumble.  

And Jungkook — poor, stubborn Jungkook — felt the strain of holding himself back with every passing moment.  

The tension in his body was unmistakable. His jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides, as if anchoring himself in place was the only way to resist you. But it was getting harder. Your every move — a tilt of your head, a brush of your fingers, the soft hum of your laughter — was a calculated test of his willpower.

There were times where his thumb hovered over the group chat. His mind screamed at him to type out the words, to admit defeat, to let it all go so he could have you the way he so desperately craved.  

But he didn’t.  

He kept his composure, though it was a battle he felt he was losing by the second. Temptation clung to him like a warm, enticing embrace, your every move a test of his self control. You were irresistible, and he knew it. Hell, even the fucking dickwad of a neighbor — the one who always found a reason to greet you while mugging Jungkook — knew it. But as much as he wanted to give in, Jungkook had to tread carefully. Ignoring you completely would be suspicious, and pulling away would be totally out of character. You’d see right through him.  

So he found a fine line to walk, a delicate balance: giving you just enough to keep you satisfied while keeping his own burning desires tightly in check. A heated makeout session here, his hand squeezing your ass there — little gestures that made everything feel normal. Just enough to keep you from noticing anything was off, but never enough to let things spiral out of control.  

The thought of explaining the ridiculous bet to you was out of the question — he wasn’t about to tell you he’d willingly signed up to not get his cock wet for a whole month. So instead, he silently resolved to endure.  

It wasn’t easy. Hell, it was torture. But the thought of losing to his friends? That was even worse. Their smug faces, the relentless teasing — it was unthinkable. Jungkook would rather give himself the worst case of blue balls imaginable than admit defeat.  

But just as the next week was about to begin, Jungkook’s willpower met its match.

At night, Jungkook stuck to his usual routine. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and climbed into bed. He scrolled aimlessly through his TikTok for you page, waiting for you to finish up in the bathroom and join him. It was the same comforting ritual as always.  

Usually, when you slipped into bed, he’d put his phone down immediately. Without a word, he’d shift closer, press his chest to your back, tangle your legs together, and throw a protective arm over your waist. It was an unspoken rhythm you both loved, the closeness of his warmth pulling you both into peaceful sleep.  

But tonight, something felt different.  

It had been a long week — too long. You hadn’t had him, hadn’t felt his touch, hadn’t been able to drown in the comfort of him. And tonight, the ache of missing him was unbearable. You needed him, desperately.  

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the soft light from the lamp illuminated him sprawled across the bed. His focus was on his phone, completely oblivious to you — but your attention was elsewhere.  

The thin material of his sweatpants did nothing to hide the outline of his cock, pressing firmly against the fabric as he lay there in complete ease. It was almost unfair how effortlessly attractive he looked.  

And just like that, the last of your restraint snapped.  

You didn’t even try to play coy. Not tonight. Not when every fiber of your being screamed for him, for his touch, for his warmth.  

You crawled onto the bed with purpose, straddling his hips in one smooth motion. Jungkook tensed beneath you, his phone slipping from his hand onto the mattress. His dark eyes met yours, wide with surprise, but the second your lips captured his, you felt him relax into the kiss.

It didn’t take long for your lips to wander. From his mouth to his jaw, each kiss slower and deeper than the last. That’s when he knew.  

This wasn’t going to end with a few kisses.  

“It’s getting late,” he murmured, his voice breathy, like he was trying to convince himself more than you.  

“Mhm,” you hummed, your lips trailing down his neck, suckling gently at the spot you knew made him shudder.  

“We should go to sleep,” he tried again, though his words sounded more like a plea than an order.  

“Don’t wanna,” you whispered against his skin, your hand sliding down between your bodies, cupping the hardening length beneath his sweatpants.  

The guttural moan that tore from his lips was instant, raw, and uncontrollable. His reaction was visceral, his hands flying to your hips to still you, but it was too late. That single touch had ignited something primal in him.  

With a sudden movement, he flipped you onto your back, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them firmly above your head.

“Why do you never listen to me?” he said through clenched teeth. His frustration of trying to compose his restraint thinning. Why won’t you let him win? His face was so close to yours that the tip of his nose brushed against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your lips.  

“Love pissing you off,” you shot back, your grin wicked as your eyes gleamed with mischief. You tilted your head slightly, your voice dropping into something softer, sultrier. “Makes me wet.”  

“Brat,” he spat. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, his jaw clenching as if holding himself back took everything he had.

To you, it was all in good fun — a playful game, harmless teasing. But to Jungkook? It was sweet, unrelenting torment. Every kiss you pressed to his skin, every soft laugh that spilled from your lips, and every calculated touch you offered worked to chip away at his resolve, unraveling him one agonizing piece at a time.  

He wanted to be strong, to resist, to uphold his own ridiculous self imposed boundaries. But how could he? How could he lay down beside you and simply go to sleep when your every movement, every sound, every look begged him to surrender? His body betrayed him first, drawn to you like a magnet, unable to keep his distance. The tension in his muscles, the sharp hitch of his breath every time you touched him — it all screamed of a man teetering on the edge of self control.  

Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze flickering over you, taking in the way your lips curled into a smile that was equal parts innocent and dangerous. He hated how much you affected him, but at the same time, he craved it. Every fiber of his being ached for you — your warmth, your softness, the way you felt against him. He knew he was doomed the second you whispered his name, voice laced with need.  

Giving in wasn’t just inevitable; it was everything he wanted. And as much as he’d tried to fight it, there was no denying you. Not now, not ever.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice raw, laced with a pain so desperate it borders on pitiful. His head drops, forehead pressing against your sternum, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. It’s as if he’s trying to ground himself, clinging to the fragile threads of control slipping through his fingers.

For a moment, he stays there, his breath warm against your skin, his body taut with tension. Then, slowly, he lifts his head, meeting your gaze with eyes darkened by lust and want, swirling with a need so intense it makes your stomach all jittery. His cheeks are flushed, the faintest rosy tint blooming across his face and staining the tips of his ears. He looks utterly undone, vulnerable in a way that steals the air from your lungs.  

Before he could think twice, his lips crashed against yours in a feverish kiss, devouring you like you were his favorite candy — sweet, irresistible, and utterly addictive. He poured everything into that kiss, every ounce of frustration and need, as if losing himself in you was the only thing that mattered.  

His lips began to trail south, brushing along the curve of your jaw before dipping down to the sensitive hollow of your neck. Each press of his lips left a trail of heat on your skin, and your breath hitched, a soft sound that sent a rush of satisfaction through him. He didn’t stop, didn’t falter as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt — no, his shirt. You always stole his shirts for bed, and as much as he teased you about it, he loved seeing you in them.  

He pulled the fabric up, lifting it just beneath your chin and exposing your bare chest. Your breasts, freed from the confines of the shirt, bounced softly back into place, and Jungkook’s breath caught. His dark eyes locked onto the sight, a low groan rumbling in his chest as his hands instinctively cupped them, squeezing gently, pushing them together as if appreciating every inch of you.  

Unable to stop himself, he buried his face in the softness, his nose stuffed in between your tits, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.  

“Kook!” you giggled, your voice light and teasing, pulling him back just slightly from the haze of his desire. Your hands reached down, cupping his face and tilting it upward until his eyes met yours.

“Prettiest titties ever,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. He leaned forward to press a tender kiss to one breast, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your lips curved into a warm smile, and your thumb traced softly over the scar on the apple of his cheek. The tender moment was fleeting, though, as Jungkook’s mouth found its way to your chest, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples. His tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, drawing a sharp wave of pleasure through your body. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying — and failing — to stifle the moan that bubbled in your throat.  

Your hands moved instinctively, brushing back the dark strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Your touch was soft, almost reverent, as you gazed down at him. The sight of Jungkook — cheeks flushed, lashes kissing his cheeks as he lost himself in you, his lips tugging gently at your sensitive flesh — made your heart race and your body ache with want.  

He let out a low hum against your skin, the vibration sending a delicious shiver cascading down your spine. His tongue swirled around your nipple with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion igniting sparks of pleasure that left you breathless. His focus was unrelenting, his attention on you so singular it made your toes curl. The warmth of his saliva mixed with the heat of your skin, creating a sensation that was utterly intoxicating.  

You let out a quiet gasp, your fingers tugging gently at his raven hair, earning a soft groan from him in response. Jungkook didn’t stop, his lips worshiping you like you were the only thing that mattered.  

But as his mouth continued its ministrations, Jungkook couldn’t ignore the ache building in him. His cock throbbed, painfully hard and straining against his sweats, begging for relief. The urge to push everything aside and lose himself in you was overwhelming.  

Maybe he could lose. Maybe he could just not tell them.

No. That wasn’t fair, and Jungkook hated lying — especially to his best friends.

But fuck, you weren’t making this easy for him.  

With your pretty, soft boobs. Your sweet, irresistible lips. The way you tasted, the way you sounded.

He released your nipple with an audible pop, leaving your skin glistening and flushed from his attention. His lips lingered, warm and damp, as if tethered by an invisible string, reluctant to part. Then, slowly, he began his descent, tracing a line of soft, deliberate kisses down your stomach. Each press of his lips was unhurried, almost worshipful, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as anticipation tightened in your core.  

When he reached the waistband of your panties, his movements paused. His lips hovered just above the fabric, warm breath teasing your skin. He glanced up at you, eyes hooded and dark with want, as if searching your face for permission to continue. The moment felt suspended, heavy with tension, before he shifted his attention lower, redirecting his kisses to the delicate, sensitive skin of your inner thighs.  

His pace was maddening, each kiss a whisper against your skin, igniting every nerve and sending shivers rippling through you. His lips barely grazed you, his touch so featherlight it felt almost cruel, building the pressure inside you until it was nearly unbearable.  

Then he saw it. The damp patch on your panties. His movements stilled for a moment, the sight pulling a soft moan from his lips, thick with need.  

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, as if meant more for himself than for you. His voice was strained, low and raw, betraying the war raging inside him.  

You were blissfully unaware of the full weight of his internal struggle, the impossible battle between his ironclad resolve and the magnetic pull of you beneath him. But for Jungkook, this wasn’t just lust; it was a consuming craving, threatening to shatter the very challenge he'd sworn to uphold.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, his touch firm yet tantalizingly gentle as he began to slide them down your thighs. The soft fabric dragged against your skin with agonizing slowness, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. When the panties finally slipped off and landed somewhere forgotten on the floor, his gaze dropped to the apex of your thighs, and a deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest.

Your pussy glistened in the dim light, your slick coating your folds, the evidence of your desire laid bare before him. Jungkook's tongue darted out to wet his lips as impatience flickered in his eyes. Without hesitation, he leaned in, starting with slow, deliberate licks, savoring the taste of you like a man starving.

Your breath hitched, a shudder racing through you as you glanced down at him. His dark eyes locked with yours for a brief, smoldering moment before he closed his lips around your swollen clit, sucking gently yet firmly.

A moan tore from your throat as your head tipped back, your fingers instinctively finding one of your breasts. You cupped the soft mound, your palm pressing into the supple flesh. The room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths and the wet, sinful noises of his tongue working you over.

Jungkook's hand shot up, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist as he yanked it away from your breast. He possessively replaced your hand with his own. His large, tattooed hand cupped your tit, kneading the soft flesh with a firm yet reverent touch.

He lifted his head from between your thighs, his lips glistening with your slick, and his heated gaze met yours. Without a word, his free hand slid down, his middle and ring fingers gliding through your folds with expert precision. He paused for a moment, his fingers coated in your arousal, before pressing them slowly inside you.

Your breath hitched at the delicious stretch, your sopping wet heat greedily sucking him in with ease. A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he watched your body respond to his touch.

“So fucking wet," he whispered, voice thick with lust. His fingers curled slightly, stroking your walls with an unrelenting precision that had your thighs trembling.

Jungkook leaned back down, his lips latching onto your clit with a hunger that made your thighs quiver. He sucked and flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud, the wet, rhythmic sounds driving you wild. His fingers continued to thrust in and out of you, the steady, deliberate pace sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body as he curled them just right, hitting that spot that made you see stars.  

His other hand stayed on your breast, groping and kneading with a firm possessiveness that left you aching for more. His thumb brushed over your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.  

He was everywhere — on you, in you, surrounding you. The intensity of his touch, his mouth, and his presence consumed you entirely, leaving you trembling under him as he worked your body like he was born to do it. You could feel the tension building, the coiling heat low in your belly threatening to snap as he devoured you like a man obsessed.

“Baby,” you whimper, your voice trembling, raw with need as your fingers twist into the sheets beneath you. “G- gonna cum.”  

Jungkook doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down or falter. If anything, your words fuel him, igniting something feral inside him. He needs this — needs to feel you fall apart on his tongue, to taste every shiver and moan you can give him before he has to deny you for the rest of this painfully long month.  

A low hum vibrates against your clit, and the sensation sends a fresh wave of heat surging through you, your body arching instinctively toward him. His tongue moves faster now, precise and unrelenting, flicking and circling as if the very act is his lifeline.  

His fingers thrust into you, curling just right, hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and your vision blur. The rhythm is perfect, practiced, like he’s mapping your body by memory, knowing exactly how to coax you to the edge.  

Another hum escapes his throat, deeper this time, resonating against you with an intensity that feels almost like a plea — an unspoken command for you to let go, to surrender completely to the pressure building inside you.  

And with each stroke of his tongue and every curl of his fingers, he pushes you closer, until you’re teetering on the brink, your body burning with the promise of release.

His hand on your breast squeezes more firmly, his thumb flicking and pinching your nipple with just the right pressure, as if he knows exactly how to push you over the edge. Your hand shoots up to grab his wrist, your nails digging into his skin, while your other hand fists the sheets desperately.  

Your head tips back, lips parting in a silent, breathless moan as the tension inside you finally snaps. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, trembling as your release crashes over you in wave after blissful wave.  

Your body shakes beneath him, overcome by the force of your orgasm, but Jungkook doesn’t stop. His mouth continues its sinful work on your clit, sucking and licking with unrelenting precision, while his fingers maintain their steady thrusts.

Despite the painful, throbbing ache of his cock, Jungkook finds a twisted kind of satisfaction in giving you pleasure. The way your body arches, the sounds you make, the way your nails dig into the sheets — it’s intoxicating. It fuels him, spurring him on as though your ecstasy alone is enough to soothe his own torment.  

He doesn’t want to stop. Not when you’re trembling beneath him, your body so responsive to his every touch. But there’s a limit to how much you can take, and he knows it. As much as he loves pushing you to the edge, watching as you surrender completely to him, overstimulation begins to creep in, your soft whimpers turning into desperate little gasps.  

Still, there’s a reluctance in him, a battle between the unyielding need to give you more and the understanding that your body can only handle so much. Even as you writhe beneath him, pleading for reprieve, there’s a part of him that aches to keep going, to hold onto this connection for just a moment longer.  

But he’s Jungkook, and if there’s one thing he values more than his own desires, it’s you. The sight of you trembling, your chest heaving as you fight to steady your breath, tugs at something deeper within him. He takes a deep breath, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, and finally, he pulls back.  

His lips and chin are glistening with your slick, a sinful testament to his devotion. He doesn’t bother wiping it away; instead, he leans over you, his eyes dark and heavy with satisfaction as they roam your flushed face. 

“Munch,” you giggle, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers brush his hair back from his forehead.  

Jungkook chuckles, the sound deep and warm, scrunching his nose in playful protest. His pretty bunny-like teeth peek out in a smile so endearing it makes your heart skip a beat.  

Unable to resist, you lean in, pressing your lips against his. Your tongue brushes against his, exploring him as the taste of you still lingers on his lips. The kiss grows deeper, more heated, and you feel his hard-on pressing insistently against your thigh.  

Without a second thought, your hand slides down, grabbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. He groans softly against your mouth, the sound vibrating between you.  

“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, breaking the kiss as he pulls away, the warmth of his lip still lingering on yours. He stands, his movements abrupt, leaving you breathless on the bed. His lips, swollen and glistening faintly in the dim light, speak to the intensity of your embrace, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours. Instead, it darts away, like a guilty child caught red-handed. He scratches the back of his head, his posture stiff as he moves toward the bathroom door. “I think I’m gonna go shower,” he blurts out, the tension in his voice betraying his attempt at casualness.

Shower? Now? Really? His dick is literally straining against his sweats, the outline unmistakable, practically begging for attention. You can still feel the heat of him pressed against you, the way he twitched beneath you just moments ago.

He’s not serious. There’s absolutely no fucking way.

“What?” Genuine confusion coats your tone, your brows furrowed. “You always shower in the mornings.”  

“I- I know, baby,” he stammers, his pitch climbing an octave as his composure unravels faster than a poorly wrapped gift. Panic flashes in his wide eyes, and his mouth hangs open, grasping for an excuse he clearly doesn’t have.  

“Then what’s wrong?” you ask, your softer now, a thread of worry weaving through your tone. You sit up, the oversized shirt you’d stolen from him slipping down your chest, covering your boobs he wished he could stare at for just a second longer. “Is something going on?”

“I-” His eyes dart around the room like the answer might be written on the walls. “I’m just tired.”  

Your brow arches, skepticism written all over your face. “Tired?” you echo, your face scrunching in disbelief. “You’ve never not wanted to have sex.”  

Jungkook visibly winces, his ears turning a bright shade of red. Rising from the bed like it might help, he sits at the edge, his hand nervously brushing your shin. “I- I had a long day at work.”

You tilt your head. “But you love having sex after a long day,” you say, your voice tinged with confusion. “Jungkook, seriously… what’s wrong?”  

He freezes, like a deer caught in headlights, his lips parting in silent panic. “Nothing!” he squeaks, his voice cracking. 

You lean closer, your suspicion mounting. “Well it’s clearly something! Do I not smell good?”  

His head whips toward you, his face a mixture of offense and horror. “What? You smell amazing!” he practically yells, his voice high-pitched. “Honey, I could eat you all day if you’d let me!” 

“Then why are you running off like this?”  

“I’m not running!” he protests, though the crack in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just- uh- need to clear my head!”  

“Clear your head?” you ask, squinting at him. “From what?”  

“All the thinking I’ve been doing!” he exclaims, clearly grasping at straws. “It’s... exhausting.”  

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Thinking about what?”  

His mouth opens, but words fail him. After a moment of floundering, he groans, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands. “You’re impossible,” he mumbles, his voice muffled behind his palms.  

“And you’re a terrible liar,” you fire back. “Spill it. What’s really going on?”  

He exhales deeply, dragging his hands down his face in defeat before clasping them together in front of him as if in prayer. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m trying so hard right now,” he mutters finally, his voice low and desperate, “and you’re not making it easy.”  

“Trying hard to what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued. 

“To not combust right now!” he exclaims, his voice rough with need. His eyes snap open, locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “You’re killing me, babe. Just... let me shower first, and then let’s just have a good night, okay?” His breath hitches, barely able to keep his composure as he watches you, a mixture of desperation and affection in his gaze. 

You blink at him, your mouth slightly open, trying to piece together his words. Before you can say anything, he kisses you once more, the movement rushed and almost sheepish.  

“Go to bed, honey,” he says, practically bolting for the bathroom. “I love you!”  

The door shut behind him with a sharp, decisive click, followed by the distinct sound of the lock turning. It was jarring — Jungkook never locked the door. There was no reason to; it was just the two of you living together, no one else to intrude. The realization sank in quickly, a bitter confirmation that this time, he was actively shutting you out, trying to keep you from coming in and uncovering whatever was weighing on him. You sat there, frozen, staring at the closed door in stunned silence.

Whatever it was, one thing was clear — you weren’t letting this slide. You were going to figure out what was going on with your boyfriend if it was the last thing you did.

After that night, you kept your distance.

Jungkook hated it. He hated the silence, the lack of your warmth, the way you avoided his touch. But he couldn’t blame you. He knew he was the root of the problem — he had fucked up that night. He should’ve been smoother, handled it better, but he completely blew it. Jungkook was good at many things. Lying was not one of them.

For a few days, you gave him the silent treatment. When he leaned in for a kiss before heading to work, you turned your face, leaving him with nothing but a peck on your cheek. The lack of communication was agonizing, eating away at him every time he caught your cold glances. But you were petty as fuck, and he knew it. You weren’t about to kiss his ass — not when it was obvious he’d lied to you that night. If he didn’t want to talk to you, then you weren’t going to talk to him.

When you were alone — at work, lying in bed, or just lost in thought — your mind spiraled. What could he possibly be hiding? The thought haunted you, gnawing at the edges of your sanity. Was he cheating on you? The idea felt impossible, unthinkable. Your Jungkook would never… or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. But his strange behavior, the evasiveness, planted seeds of doubt you couldn’t ignore. The very thought made you feel sick to your stomach, but the ache of curiosity refused to leave you alone.

You needed answers. And if Jungkook wasn’t going to give them to you, you decided to go to the one person who knew him best.

you [3:15 pm]: what is wrong with my boyfriend ??

jimin [3:17 pm]: That sounds like a question you should be asking your boyfriend, don't you think?

you [3:17 pm]: I KNOW YOU KNOW SOMETHING.

jimin [3:18 pm]: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???

you [3:18 pm]: whats her name

jimin [3:18 pm]: Who??

you [3:19 pm]: HIS SIDE BITCH

jimin [3:19 pm]: GIRL WHAT

jimin [3:19 pm]: You think he’s cheating on you?

you [3:23 pm]: is he ?? just tell me so i can save myself the humiliation pls

jimin [3:23 pm]: Bro no he would never

jimin [3:23 pm]: I’d chop his dick off and then kill the girl if he did

jimin [3:23 pm]: What makes you even think that in the first place?

you [3:24 pm]: hes acting weirdddd :(

you [3:24 pm]: i was trying to fuck him a few nights ago but he wouldnt let me touch him

jimin [3:25 pm]: First of all ew

jimin [3:25 pm]: Second of all

you [3:28 pm]: SECOND OF ALL ????

jimin [3:30 pm]: 😂😂😂

If you weren’t pissed at Jungkook before, you definitely were now.

After talking to Jimin, you finally learned the truth about the challenge. It wasn’t even the fact that Jungkook had hidden it from you that irritated you most — it was the challenge itself and his ridiculous competitive spirit. Why did he have to be such a sore loser?

According to Jimin, five of the seven participants had already been knocked out. Seokjin and Yoongi, being married men, didn’t stand a chance — they were bound to lose. Namjoon, like Jungkook, was in a committed relationship, but unlike him, Namjoon had the good sense not to put himself through that kind of pain just to preserve his pride. Hoseok and Taehyung? They were notorious party addicts — losing was inevitable for them. 

Now, it was down to just Jungkook and Jimin. And, of course, Jungkook’s competitive streak wouldn’t let him back down, no matter how ridiculous the stakes were. The thought made your blood boil. How could he have dragged himself — and by extension, you — into this mess?

You didn’t confront Jungkook about what you’d learned from Jimin, though you did drop the silent treatment act. Instead, you decided to take a different approach — one far more devious than simply ignoring him.  

Even with the heater running, the November chill still lingered in the air, but it didn’t stop you from dressing provocatively around the apartment. You roamed in short shorts, sometimes just your underwear, paired with a silk camisole that left little to the imagination. The thin fabric did nothing to hide your hard nipples, which poked against the material as you moved about. Jungkook would notice, of course — he’d grope your ass or give you a quick kiss goodbye before heading to work — but that was it.  

When he was away, whether at work or hanging out with his friends, you upped the ante. You sent him pictures of yourself in matching lingerie sets, always in his favorite color, knowing how much he loved them. Sometimes you sent something more daring — nudes that left nothing to the imagination. Usually, those photos had him texting back immediately, promising to deal with you as soon as he got home.  

But this time, his responses were different. Short. Terse. Instead of giving in, he’d simply tell you to stop.  

Frustration boiled over each time you read his dismissive replies. You groaned and threw your phone onto the bed in defeat. Why wouldn’t he just give in already? You wanted him so badly, and you refused to even touch yourself because what you craved was him — his hands, his mouth, his dick.  

If teasing him over the phone wasn’t working, you decided it was time to take things up a notch. One night, when you heard the shower running, you didn’t hesitate. Stripping off your clothes, you quietly stepped into the bathroom. The steam swirled around you as you opened the shower door and stepped in.  

Jungkook froze the moment he saw you. His wide eyes scanned you from head to toe, lingering on your curves as if he hadn’t seen them countless times before. His jaw tightened, his chest heaving as his restraint wavered. Then, with a groan of frustration, he threw his head back against the shower wall, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to block out the temptation in front of him.  

Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. 

Despite his impressive self-control, his body betrayed him. His cock stood stiff and proud between you, a silent plea for attention. But no matter how much you pressed closer, your skin grazing his, or how boldly you touched yourself in front of him, he didn’t break.  

With a stoic determination that only fueled your frustration, he focused on washing off, his movements precise and distant, as though ignoring the tension hanging thick in the air. And just when you hoped he’d finally push past his limits, he’d step out of the shower, leaving you behind in the steam, your desire unfulfilled.

It was maddening. Teasing him was supposed to work — it always worked. And while you were determined to push him until he snapped, you had to admit, his composure was far better than you’d anticipated.

It was just days before Thanksgiving, which meant this painfully long month was finally nearing its end. But you were done waiting. Done teasing. The ache in your body had grown unbearable, a constant, gnawing need for him that no amount of patience could soothe.  

You were going to have him tonight, or you were going to actually die.  

Jungkook had a day off tomorrow, so he was sprawled on the couch, completely absorbed in his Nintendo game. His focus was unwavering, his brows furrowed in concentration as the soft clicks of the buttons filled the room.  

Dressed in a matching lacy black set that left little to the imagination, you moved silently behind him, your determination unwavering. Gently, you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, your fingertips tracing soft patterns over the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even glance up, much too engrossed in the virtual world on his screen.  

But then you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. The soft, teasing kisses trailed along his skin, featherlight yet deliberate, leaving a warm path behind. You felt the slightest hitch in his breathing, a telltale sign that despite his effort to remain focused, you were beginning to unravel him.

His eyes fluttered shut, his focus on the game completely shattered as his head tipped to the side, exposing more of his neck to your eager lips. His lips parted, heavy breaths escaping him, each exhale laced with a vulnerability you rarely saw.  

“Baby…” he moaned breathily, his voice low and strained, warning you.  

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. Your voice was soft, commanding, and it sent a shiver rippling through him. You felt his resolve beginning to crack, the tension in his body shifting as your hands slid down, teasing the line between tenderness and temptation.

Pulling away, you reached for the tie you had stolen from his drawer earlier. With a deliberate slowness, you brought it up to his eyes, slipping it over and covering his vision.  

“What-” he began, his voice tinged with confusion as his hands instinctively moved to stop you.  

But you were quicker, gripping his wrists to still him. Leaning in close, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “I know about your stupid challenge, Jungkook.”  

His body tensed beneath you, the air between you heavy with tension. His breaths came uneven now, a mixture of guilt, surprise, and something else simmering just beneath the surface.  

“Let me explain-” he started, his voice edged with desperation.  

“No,” you cut him off, your tone firm but quiet. “It’s too late for that now.”  

You secured the tie around his eyes, knotting it with careful precision. The soft fabric sat snugly against his skin, cloaking his vision completely. His lips parted as if to protest, but he stopped himself, seemingly caught between resisting and surrendering to whatever you had planned.

Rounding the couch, you reached down and plucked the device from his hands, setting it aside on the coffee table without a second thought. His body went rigid beneath you, his breath hitching as you settled in. The unmistakable hardness of his cock pressed against you, igniting a spark of satisfaction that curled your lips into a smirk. Slowly, you began to move, rocking your hips against his in steady, purposeful motions, grinding into him just enough to draw a reaction. 

“Do you know how much I missed you, Kook?” you murmured, your voice dripping with need as your lips hovered near his ear. “Missed your pretty cock… my fingers could never give me the satisfaction you do.”

His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, the silver of his piercings glinting under the warm light, drawing your eyes like a magnet. That perfect little mole just beneath his lip was on full display, a teasing reminder of how irresistible he looked like this — teetering on the edge of control.  

His lips parted as a soft, breathy moan escaped, the sound low and unrestrained. It sent a shiver straight through you. His hands, no longer hesitant, slid to your hips, gripping firmly as he guided your movements. Each roll of your hips against his was deliberate, his touch coaxing you to grind harder, deeper, until the friction was almost too much to bear.

You hooked a finger into the fabric covering his eyes, tugging it free with a teasing slowness. His lashes fluttered as he blinked, his vision gradually clearing — and then he saw you. Nothing but his favorite set of yours graced your body, clinging to your curves in all the right ways.  

A low, breathless please escaped his lips, muttered more to himself than to you, as if trying desperately to maintain his composure. His eyes squeezed shut, and he turned his head away, a feeble attempt to resist you.  

But you weren’t having that. Your hand shot out, firm but gentle, cupping his chin and turning his face back toward you. His eyes snapped open, dark and hungry, as you reached behind you, unclasping the delicate hook of your bra. The straps slipped from your arms, the fabric discarded behind you without a care.  

Your hands came up, cupping your bare breasts, teasing yourself as his gaze darkened. His restraint frayed before your eyes as his hips bucked up into yours, seeking friction, a desperate need taking over. His jaw tightened, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, a clear sign of how much he craved you.  

Those should be his hands, not yours.

His hand twitched, reaching out instinctively, but you caught his wrist, guiding it purposefully down your body. Your gaze never wavered from his, locking him in place as you slid his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. His fingers pressed against the soaked fabric, and his breath hitched when he felt just how wet you were. The slickness coated your plush lips, a testament to how badly you wanted him.  

“Honey…” he warned, his voice shaky and breathless, teetering on the edge of control.  

“Please, Kook,” you whispered, your tone laced with desperation. “Fuck me tonight, or I’ll lose my mind. It’s been weeks. Don’t you miss me as much as I miss you?”  

Your plea hung between you, thick with need and longing. His jaw clenched, and you could see the internal battle playing out in his dark eyes as his fingers twitched against you, his restraint unraveling with each passing second.

How was he supposed to get up and walk away with his cock straining painfully against his sweats, and you like this, laid out before him? His hand was still buried in your underwear, fingers sliding effortlessly over your slick folds, forming a V as they trailed up and found your clit. His jaw clenched at the way your body shuddered beneath his touch, the quiet moan slipping from your lips like a siren’s call.  

And then there was you — your smaller hands kneading your soft, perfect tits, the ones he loved so much, the sight alone nearly undoing him. The way you whimpered, the way your body responded to him, had his restraint crumbling to dust.  

This was it — his breaking point.  

He didn’t care about the fucking challenge anymore. Nothing mattered except you.

It was like a switch flipped inside him. In a sudden, fluid motion, he grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he laid you down on the couch. His broad frame hovered above you, the way you’d missed for so long. His dark eyes were locked onto yours, blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. 

He didn’t waste time. You were already soaked, your body more than ready for him. No need for extra preparation — he knew he’d slide right in. With one hand, he freed his cock, giving it a few languid strokes, his eyes never leaving yours. He hooked a finger under the edge of your panties, tugging them to the side, baring your pretty, dripping pussy. He couldn’t wait to get inside it. The flushed tip glistened, teasing your entrance for a heartbeat before he pressed forward, the head sinking in.  

A sharp gasp escaped both your lips, the shared sensation so overwhelming it felt as if you were experiencing each other for the first time all over again. Jungkook moved slowly at first, his cock stretching you inch by inch, filling you with deliberate care. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened as he savored every moment, every inch of warmth he’d been denying himself for far too long. 

But restraint wasn’t his strong suit tonight. The need coursing through him was too much to bear. His movements quickened, his hips snapping forward with purpose. The wet, obscene sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room as his pelvis slapped against the back of your thighs. The steady rhythm of his thrusts deepened, each one more urgent than the last, driving both of you closer to the edge.

His upper body lifted off of you, and with a swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his broad, muscular frame sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. He was absolutely stunning, every inch of him on display — his skin glowing under the dim light.  

His arm was covered in intricate tattoos, the ink curling around his bicep like a story you wanted to read. His chest was thick and broad, with a layer of muscle that made your fingers itch to trace every curve. His arms were solid and meaty, a strength you could feel even from just looking at him.  

You couldn’t help yourself. Your hand moved instinctively, running down the defined lines of his chest, your fingers grazing over the hard muscles of his stomach. His abs flexed beneath your touch, tense and firm, the warmth of his skin sending a wave of desire crashing through you. The simple touch made you want more, made you crave everything he had to offer.

But now it was Jungkook's turn to take control. With a swift motion, he caught your wrist, his grip firm as he seized your other arm and pinned it above your head. The dominance in his touch was undeniable, and you knew exactly what that meant. He always did this when he wanted to take over, to remind you who was in charge.  

His hands moved quickly, grabbing one of your legs and effortlessly throwing it over his shoulder. You gasped at the sudden shift, your body bent in half, your chest pressed against him, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. His face hovered just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin as he studied you.  

A small whimper escaped your lips at the stretch, your body not as flexible as you'd like, but that discomfort was fleeting. It quickly morphed into something else — pleasure, intense and consuming — as his brutal thrusts began again, filling you completely.  

He was relentless, each movement pulling another gasp from you. His breath came out in ragged bursts, his voice low and laced with command. "You never listen to me, do you? Huh, you brat?" His words were a breathy growl, like a warning. "Just had to get fucked."

You couldn’t find the words to respond, your mind completely consumed by the overwhelming pleasure. Every inch of your body was alive with sensation, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts. Instead, soft moans and breathless hums spilled from your lips, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his thrusts deepened, each one hitting you harder than the last.  

Your body arched into him instinctively, eager to feel more, to give in to the rhythm he set. The tension was building, spiraling higher and higher with each movement, each sound leaving your mouth a mix of pleasure and need. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way he was making you feel, his hands and his body taking you exactly how he wanted.

"You made this so hard for me, baby." His voice was breathless, low and laced with desire as his thrusts didn’t falter. "Can’t resist you. Too fucking pretty to not touch." He spoke as though he couldn’t control himself, his words slipping out between harsh breaths, his hands gripping your body with barely restrained urgency.

“M’already so close, Kook,” you moaned, your voice shaky with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. The pressure inside you was building, so close to release, but you needed him to push you over the edge.

“Yeah?” His gaze darkened, his hips snapping into yours with even more force. “Show me. Let me feel you, please.” His words were more than a plea — they were a command, a desperate need for you to let go so he could feel every inch of your pleasure. It’s been so long since he felt you. He wants to feel you. Needs to feel you.

With each punishing thrust, your breasts bounce uncontrollably, catching Jungkook's undivided attention. His hooded eyes are glued to them, pupils blown wide with lust, as if he's seeing something so utterly captivating it leaves him in a trance. The way they move, the way your body responds to him — it’s driving him wild. His tongue flicks over his lips as he lets out a low groan, jaw tightening, the need to mark you overwhelming every coherent thought.  

You gasp sharply, a broken moan escaping your lips as your orgasm slams into you with ferocious intensity. Your body arches off the couch, your hands still pinned above your head as waves of euphoria ripple through you. Your head tilts back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of your neck, and your chest heaves as you ride out the high.  

Jungkook growls when he feels your walls clench down on him, the tight grip almost sending him over the edge. “Oh, yeah,” he rasps, voice rough and deep, his hips grinding against you. “That’s it. Just like that... so fucking good.”  

But he doesn’t slow down. If anything, his pace quickens, the desperate need for his own release taking over. Each thrust is brutal, precise, and deliberate, as if he’s claiming every part of you, chasing that high he knows is just within reach. His grip on your hips is bruising, holding you in place as he slams into you again and again, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room.  

Finally, with a strained groan, he pulls out abruptly, his cock slick and throbbing in his hand. He strokes himself hard, the sight of your trembling, sweat slick body beneath him sending him over the edge. His release comes in hot, thick ropes, splattering across your stomach and tits in messy, deliberate streaks.  

He lets out a guttural moan, chest heaving as he watches his cum paint you like a masterpiece, dripping down your skin in glistening trails. His hand slows, and his eyes never leave the sight of you — glistening, marked, and utterly his.

Once he milks every last drop of his release, he does something that shouldn't be as devastatingly sexy as it is. Leaning down, his gaze locked onto yours with a feral intensity, he drags his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your stomach, collecting his own cum. The heat of his mouth follows, traveling upward until he captures a nipple between his lips, sucking and swirling his tongue with maddening precision.

You giggle, your face flushing with heat as he releases your nipple and makes his way up to your lips. The moment his mouth connects with yours, you taste his cum on his tongue, and you can't help but moan softly into the kiss. He pulls back, resting his head on your chest with a contented sigh.

“Can’t believe you made me lose. I was so close,” he sulks, his voice laced with playful frustration.

“Jimin texted me. He gave in yesterday. You won,” you tease, your fingers softly running through his hair.

His head shoots up quickly, eyes wide like a dog hearing its name. “Seriously?”

You nod, giggling softly at his excitement.

Without warning, he stands up from the couch, pulling you with him. He scoops you up by your thighs, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

You squeal, half-laughing, half-terrified, “What are you doing?!”

“Making up,” he grins, his voice low with promise as he strides toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna fuck you all night.”

The door clicks shut behind you, the remnants of your clothes scattered haphazardly in the living room, and the night unfurls into a whirlwind of heated kisses and passion that sweeps you both away. Jungkook’s teasing words and touch keep you on edge, but it’s the way he makes you feel — desired, cherished, and completely consumed by him — that transforms the night into something unforgettable. 

You knew that this Friendsgiving would be one for the books. Jungkook wasn’t going to let any of the guys forget it. Always the bragger, that one. He’d be sure to shove it in their faces every chance he got.

And he might have won the bet, but it’s you who’s the true victor tonight.

© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I post about house stuff there’s always some well meaning people and the occasional vindictive shit head who thinks we didn’t have our home inspected before we bought it.

We did. It passed the private inspection we paid for in order to get our mortgage and two inspections done by the city.

The problem with my house is that it was owned by a landlord who did all kinds of illegal and sketchy shit to maximize capacity and resale value but also would require you to take down walls to find. And for those of you unaware, they don’t let you walk around with a saw and cut holes to inspect behind the drywall.

The shithead hid things behind fake walls. Literally. He put a bunch of chemicals and paints into a crawl space then drywalled over it. There is drywall on top of drywall (or there was before we took it down). He put carpet over the asbestos tiles—which is technically fine. It’s safer to seal asbestos away than remove it… except he also covered the drain for the house so the basement floods and then the carpet rots and in turn starts breaking down the asbestos tiles, making them into a hazard. He built the basement himself so that the drywall was sitting on the concrete slab—something we couldn’t see without removing the trim—causing them to wick moisture from the floor and rot until we had black mold everywhere.

The electric parts that were visible were all up to code, but again, anything that could be hidden was done so, hiding shit like a dishwasher that had been hot wired into the wall through a light plate fixture under the sink. Or the 240v socket that used to power an electric stove which had been pulled through the floorboard to power the tumble dryer. (Or the gas stove that we swapped for electric because it kept trying to kill us and then we realized he’d run a gas pipe from the water heater to power it. The plumber swore a lot about that one when he finally realized that one.)

Plumbing all looked good until you realized some of the new pipes were just pvc cut to go around the old lead pipes. Something you couldn’t see unless you got up close and personal during the inspection, and we’re talking up on a ladder jiggling the pipes around which is also generally something don’t let you do. Not to the extent we would have needed to.

The man was unhinged. And there’s very little we can do about it because we signed an “as is” thing on our mortgage thinking most of the repairs we’d need to do would be minor. Only to find out the house which looked fairly modern and well kept on the surface was actually a fucking Saw trap. And now because of all the shit we’ve uncovered, we have to fix it before we can sell it because no one in their right mind will buy a house with declared asbestos—even predatory developers hesitate on that one.

So if we’ve got to fix this place up, we’ll fix it up for us because god knows, even if we managed to sell this place, we can’t afford the mortgage rates right now. (And while yes, apartments are an option, they make my MCAS a lot less stable because you can’t control the shit your neighbors use, nevermind things like a shared laundry facility where everyone wants to smell like “a spring summer breeze” that to me smells like death by fragrance induced anaphylaxis.)

So yes, we’re stuck with this place. For now. A place we had inspected multiple times and were still let down by the reality that people hide things and will do so in the most imaginative ways possible if it means they can make a profit.

The furnace dying the instant we moved in wasn’t a good sign, but shit happens. That’s home ownership. The gas leaks we had last week? Also home ownership. It had passed yearly inspections up until now. Appliances break down and require maintenance, especially gas ones. In an ideal world we would have gotten another five years out of the furnace, but alas, it chose death so we had to yeet it.

So, yeah, if you’re the shithead currently going off in my inbox about “stupid people winning stupid prizes” I’ll take that apology now.

[masoncantthinkofaname]

My advice as someone who has shifted many times

Got some really sweet comments on my last post, and I decided I should probably get myself over my fear of posting here. I just love everyone in this community, you're all family to me💚

First, and most importantly, coffee:

When I posted my introduction here, a couple of months ago, I felt like I was already quite an experienced shifter. 4 kids, the most amazing husband, a life outside of this reality longer than I lived within it.

Looking back on it now, more than 500 years later, 3 more kids, 4 grandchildren, I was almost like a baby still, and even at this moment in time, I feel like I'm only at the start of my journey.

However, for the people that know my tiktok account, I have shifted to a lot of places by now. Experienced immortality as a human, as a deity, I've seen different cultures practice shifting, and taught shifting to every single one of me and my husband's children.

My main purpose in coming back here, is to help others achieve what I finally managed after years of trying. I want you all to pursue your dreams, and find the infinite happiness you so deserve.

So here is some advice:

Shifting itself is extremely simple. You want something, you get it. The concept of the reality that we're in doesn't allow for instant 'manifestations', but that doesn't mean you can't do it. It just means that, this reality by itself, doesn't have the rule of ''you desire something = you get it.'' That's where humans came up with the term ''manifestation,'' but it's simple really; you persist in wanting something, so you shift somewhere you have it. How easy that is can depend on the person, but every single one is capable of doing it, it's not technically any more difficult.

There are realities out there where, ''you want something'' does equal ''you get it,'' the term manifestation wouldn't even exist in those places, it's just as natural as it is for you here to feel as though you struggle attracting your desires.

I do not want to be rude to anyone, but there is no key to shifting. Anyone claiming they have the method to shift, or know the key to it, is overcomplicating it. Shifting is shifting, you don't need anything for it. Just existing, being aware, that's all you need to shift. HOW you do it, depends on the person. Assumptions, methods, intention, they're all tools to help you, but they're not the key.

You can shift while showering, while taking a dump, you can jump in the air and yell ''Yippie!!!'' to shift if you would believe that it works. An actual method? A joke method? There's no difference between them. The only real difference? You assume one to work, and one to not do anything, and that's where our limited mindsets are created.

I've seen so many different groups by now. People that shifted through meditation, through rituals, a group that would quite literally dive into a lake that they saw as magic, but also people that simply just, decided they wanted it, and shifted seconds later. They were raised with those beliefs, so they work for them.

And you here? You're raised in a society that tells you that you have to work for what you want, that a dream life is impossible, nothing is for free. And then you wonder why you struggle with shifting, why it's so hard to believe that you can do something so incredibly simple. Your struggles are valid, it is not your fault.

As an awareness you're so much more than the 3d, you're so much more than the body or brain you're aware of. You're simply a guest in this body, until it expires or you choose yourself to move on, but that doesn't take away that while you're here, you have to deal with your experiences, memories, and taught mindsets from this place.

That's why, the biggest advice I can give you, is to listen to yourself. Not society, not other people, no one who tries to tell you that they know ''the way.'' If someone's method aligns with you, that is amazing, and definitely put it to practice. But don't force yourself to go through methods and practices that don't feel right for you. If you dread doing it, it's not for you. Find something fun, something that fits your routines and beliefs.

Remember that time has no meaning. 5 days, 5 months, it's not going to matter in 3000 years. Literally nothing can stop your existence, nothing that could happen to you in this reality can ever stop you from existing.

There is no pressure, eternity is waiting for you, be kind to yourself. You are exactly where you're meant to be. It doesn't matter how you shift, so don't make it a chore. Script, create scenarios, daydream, make up your own rituals or find the most fun ways to set intention. You don't need hour long methods of counting, starfish positions and difficult affirmations. Your desires are already heard, your subconscious already knows where you want to go, so enjoy the ride until you get there💚

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 2

In which you spend the weekend in Miami as Max's personal guest.

Warnings: smut at the end ;) Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words (whoops) plus social media posts

Part 1 Master List

(a/n: holy shit you guys absoltely blew up part one (its sitting at 1.7k notes last time i checked in under 3 days??? like WHAT???) so here's the much requested part 2. LMK if you want a part 3! Also going to try something different with the tag list tonight, so bare with me as I figure this out!! xoxo)

You play with the hem of the cornflower blue sundress, nerves ratcheting up another notch when the car pulls into the race track. After you had wrapped up filming the podcast two weeks ago, Max had taken you out to one of his favorite London restaurants where you had spent the next nearly five hours talking about everything and nothing all at once. The only reason you had left was that the staff of the restaurant had started cleaning up around you, literally sweeping up under your feet and turning off the music as you had lingered over the last bits of your dessert together. 

The next day, Max had needed to go back to Milton Keynes to spend some time in the sim ahead of Miami weekend, unable to stay in London with you despite every bone in his body screaming that he didn’t want to leave you. It was weird, almost scary, to him how much space you took up in his thoughts so quickly. He didn’t usually get attached to anyone, much preferring to remain aloof and independent but in the two weeks that passed since he had seen you, he was unable (or unwilling, depending on who you asked, honestly) to think of anything else. The way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you seemed to hang on every word that came out of his mouth simply mesmerized him. 

So now, here you were, two weeks later, moments away from seeing him again. Because while Max was down bad and trying not to blow this, you were also completely smitten with the Dutch driver. You had spent hours editing the first and second part of his episode yourself, something you hadn’t done in years, because you insisted you wanted to keep the integrity of the interview under your total control. Your video editor had seen the way you spoke about Max and just nodded, knowing that there had been something that sparked between you and him and that there would be no arguing about it with you. 

Max is in the garage when he gets the text from you that you’re in the parking lot waiting for him. As luck would have it, he’s just finishing up with some engineering meetings so he’s got some free time. He replies instantly, telling you to wait in the car for him and he’ll be right there. 

“I’m running out for a bit, GP. I’ll be back before FP1.” 

“I mean, you’d better be. Who else is going to get in that car? Horner?” 

Max chuckles, clapping his racing engineer on the back before slipping out the back of the garage. 

Max’s heart stalls when he sees the car you're in, nerves suddenly twisting in his gut. You two had been texting back and forth constantly since he left London the morning after you met. Evenings had been spent on FaceTime together when you could manage, but with your busy schedules it hadn’t been enough for Max. The relief he felt knowing you were less than 100 feet away had him swaying on his feet a bit. 

You knew Max was coming to meet you at the car but it had been a long drive from the airport, so while you waited you decided to stretch your legs. Max watches helplessly from a distance as the rear door on the SUV swings open, your bare legs making his mouth go dry when you hop out out of the car. 

It’s almost as if you sense his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze caressing your bare skin like the touch of a well known lover. It takes you a moment to recover when your eyes lock with his, the look on his face practically a billboard for how excited he is to see you. A wide grin spreads across your face when he starts towards you, heart tumbling down through your toes as he jogs your way. 

“Hi.” He breathes, stopping just short of gathering you up in his arms like he truly wants to. Despite how close you’ve grown over the last two weeks, Max reminds himself that it truly only has been two weeks and he doesn’t want to come on too strong. 

You look up at him, eyes sparkling with delight at finally being in his presence again. “Hey you.” You croon, nearly unable to stop yourself from throwing yourself into his arms. 

This kind of behavior was as out of character for you as it was for Max. You’d been burned by men in your life that were supposed to be there for you, love you, and protect you and so those walls had been put in place high and strong for years now . Something about Max made you question those defenses, wondering if he was going to be the one to stick around long enough to tear them down. While you tried to remain calm, objective, and aloof it was utterly impossible to act that way when you were around him. 

“How was your flight?” Max stuffs his hands in the pockets of his shorts, nerves turning the tips of his ears pink. He wants you in his arms so badly but didn’t want to push you away, didn’t want you thinking he had only brought you out to Miami this weekend for one thing. Because he hadn’t. He had simply wanted you by his side. 

“Well I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to fly commercial ever again, so I’ll be sending you the bill for all my private flights from now on.” You wink.

“You can use my jet whenever you want, schatje.” 

Your stomach does the same involuntary flip it does whenever he calls you that. At first it had been timid, slipped in at the end of a sentence almost like it was an afterthought or unconscious desire to claim you but as time goes on, Max settles into calling you either that or liefje more often than not. 

“Don’t tempt me.” You grin up at him, knowing that he fully means what he says. He’d absolutely let you use his jet whenever you wanted, all you had to do was ask. 

“So, your timing is really good.” Max nearly reaches for your hand but chickens out at the last minute, settling for just walking you back towards the car that sits idling behind you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I actually have an hour and a half break before I have to be back for the first practice session so I thought I could take you over to the hotel, get you settled in. I booked you your own room, of course and thought you’d maybe like to take a shower or a nap during the first session and then I could have an intern get you so you can watch the sprint quali later this afternoon.” 

Your heart warms at the earnest look on Max’s face. The fact that he’s gone ahead and thought all of this through for you, clearly wanting to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of all while you’re sure he’s overwhelmed with work, softens those well built walls arond your heart a bit more. 

“A shower and a nap does sound good.” 

Max smiles down at you, those blue eyes of his taking in every inch of your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory. “Good. Lets get you to the hotel then.” 

“Lead the way, Maxie.”  

yourpersonalinsta posted a story

story replies: user9029 girl drop the diet and workout routine plsss yourdad baby girl, i love you but put some clothes on >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too dad! maxverstappen1 are those my socks??? >>>yourpersonalinsta my feet got cold while you were gone playing with race cars. >>>maxverstappen1 i was literally working! and how'd you get into my room??? >>>yourpersonalinsta a lady never reveals her secrets, maxie ❤️ >>>maxverstappen1 i was right, you are trouble >>>yourpersonalinsta i prefer the phrase 'joy to be around'. pls hurry though back. i'm hungry and i may die of starvation in the next twenty minutes if you don't feed me. >>>maxverstappen1 do your fans know you're this dramatic??? >>>yourpersonalinsta why do you think they're my fans?

The rest of Friday blurs together in a watercolor wash of heat, and people, and sounds that you’re utterly exhausted by the time you tumble into your bed late at night.

Alone, thank you very much.

The wine that you had drank at dinner with Max and a few other drivers has heat pooling low in your belly as you watched Max watch you all night. You had wanted to invite him back to your room, but something kept those words from slipping out all night and Max had been the picture of respectable, simply dropping a kiss on your forehead before wishing you goodnight at your hotel room. 

Saturday’s sprint race is just as busy and loud as qualifying had been and by the time it’s over, you’re exhausted, hot, and sweaty. You’re over the moon when Max pulls off the win in the sprint, throwing your arms around his damp neck the moment you see him after his media duties are completed and he finds you waiting for him in front of Red Bull's hopsitality. 

“That was amazing Max. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. You make it all look so easy.” You gush.  

“It looks like you’re my lucky charm now, schatje. Won’t be able to win without you.” 

You smile, cheeks aching a bit at how much you’ve been doing that this weekend. You’ve fit in so well with everyone it’s almost spooky, like your presence was expected and welcomed in the garage, slotting into Max’s world with uncanny ease. 

As you follow Max back to his driver’s room that’s tucked away in the back of hospitality, his hand reaches for yours almost unconsciously. When his fingers twine with yours, the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach this week take flight yet again. If this is how you react when he reaches for you, you can’t imagine how you’re going to handle when he finally kisses you properly. 

The hallway is quiet and long, with Max’s room at the end of the corridor. You’re only about half way there when a sudden wave of nausea washes over you, stopping you in your tracks. “Woah.” You whisper, free arm bracing against the wall for support. 

Max turns to you in an instant, his handsome features a mask of concern. “You okay?” 

You blink a few times, trying hard to fight the impending fainting spell you can feel yourself hurtling towards. “I..ummm…I think so?” 

Max all but picks you up in his arms, ushering you the short distance that separates you from his drivers room. “Lets get you sitting down. Have you eaten today?” 

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “Not since breakfast.” 

Max frowns, “That was hours ago, liefje.” 

The room is small with just enough room for a couch, massage table, and closet but it does the job, serving as a quiet respite from the mayhem of the paddock. Max gently leads you over to the navy blue couch. “Sit. I’m going to get you some water and food. The heat in Florida is no joke.” 

You nod, already feeling a little better now that you’re sitting down. Max is gone for several minutes but comes back absolutely laden down with so much food, you can’t help but laugh. “Max, I don’t know who you think I am but I am not a 300 pound body builder.” You say though your giggles. 

Max looks a little embarrassed but just tuts at you, placing the plates (of which there are three) down on the table in front of you. “I didn’t know what you liked. You had fish at dinner last night, much to Lando’s dismay, but they’re cooking salmon tomorrow, even though I asked for some today for you.” 

The way your chest squeezes at his ramblings has nothing to do with the headache that’s forming between your eyes and everything to do with the man sitting next to you practically spoon-feeding you a roasted beet and goat cheese salad. You obediently open your mouth when he lifts the fork to your lips, only rolling your eyes a bit at his fussing. “I am an adult, Verstappen. I can feed myself.” You grumble between bites. 

“I know but just humor me.” 

You roll your eyes again but open your mouth, the beet and goat cheese salad actually tasting really good. 

“Good girl.” He coos, setting your thighs squeezing together on their own accord. 

Your eyes flicker up to his at the praise and something passes between you two, a little spark of heat igniting there in the small room. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper after a few more bites, tension hanging thick between you as you're tucked up together on the small couch. 

“Don’t be.” He insists, pushing a bottle of icy cold water into your hands. “I’m just glad I was here to take care of you.” 

“Me too.” You breathe, acutely aware to how close his body is to yours.

The urge to kiss you overwhelms Max, and it's not the first time this weekend this has happened. He’s been fighting the ever strengthening desire to just sweep you up and haul you back to his hotel room since you first stepped out of the Range Rover yesterday afternoon. Truthfully, he’d been wondering what you taste like ever since he’d walked into that recording studio in London.

He couldn’t explain how or why but your sudden appearance in his life seemed like some cosmic shift under his feet, his entire existence adjusting to this new normal of being in your orbit. He’d spent the last two weeks listening to all five years of your podcasts, even finding some old work you’d done in college and with each episode he found himself falling further and further into a rabbit hole that he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to climb out of.

Max falls silent then and so do you, a comfortable quiet settling over the room. The spark that had ignited so innocently just minutes before begins to smolder into something that has the energy between you two shifting. Like the entire reason for you being here this weekend had led up to this very moment. 

You break the spell first, leaning in just a fraction closer to Max like he's is the magnet you’re elementally obligated to be attracted to. But Max is equally compelled in his desire to finally find out what you taste like so he closes the gap between your lips and his, mouth grazing yours with the slightest pressure. It starts out as a timid thing, unsure of if it should exist in such a charged atmosphere. Once it gains its footing though, the kiss lengthens and takes on a life of its own. 

You sigh into Max’s mouth like it’s a relief to finally have him kissing you. Max lifts the tips of his fingers to your chin so he can tilt your head upwards, allowing him to deepen the kiss to a more heated pace. Your fingers grip at his Red Bull polo, desperate for something to hold on to while the taste of Max races through your veins. 

Something akin to a purr rumbles in the back of your throat when Max’s hands sift through your hair and it grows a little hotter when he tugs on the ends, forcing your head back so the slender column of your neck is fully exposed to him. You try not to cry when his lips leave yours, unhappy with how you can’t taste him fully anymore, but that disappointment quickly evaporates when he trails open mouthed kisses towards the enticing hollow of your throat. 

“I’ve been wondering what you taste like since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Max murmurs against your heated skin. 

Your head spins at his words. So it hadn’t just been you that had felt the spark that first day. “Max.” His name is a reverent prayer on your lips, urging him to never stop touching you. 

Max thinks he could go the rest of his life without winning another race and he’d still die happy because he’d finally kissed you. “You drive me mad, liefje. I am utterly consumed by you and I have no idea how you slipped this far under my skin so quickly.” 

The words send shivers skittering down your spine and you find yourself leaning into his touch even more, heart hammering wildly against your ribcage. 

A sharp and sudden knock sends you leaping out of Max’s arms so quickly, you nearly fall to the floor. “Holy fuck.” You whisper, hand flying to your lips like they’ve been burned. 

“Christ.” Max breathes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah?” He calls, voice a strangled mess. 

“Uh…” The hesitation in the person’s voice told you that they knew they had interrupted something. “Max, Christian and GP wanted to go over a few more things before quali.” 

Max touches his forehead to yours, letting loose a breath to steady himself before he can answer. “I’ll be there in five.” He grumbles and you can hear the shuffle of feet retreating moments later. 

“You are going to ruin me, schatje.” Max murmurs, even though he has a feeling he was already ruined. 

You chuckle, rubbing your fingers over your swollen lips. You had never had a first kiss like that, ever. The way your body simply melted around Max like warm butter had your center turning molten. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You joke.

Max just shakes his head and chuckles before his face pulls serious again. 

“How are you feeling? Do you want to stay here and rest or come with me to the garage? I could have an intern take you back to the hotel?” Max lifts his hand so it frames your face, concern flickering across his features. Your chest constricts in the most delicious way when he pulls your hands into his lap. 

“I’m good. I think your kisses may have healing properties actually.” You flirt, gazing at Max from under long lashes. “If I’m not too in the way, I’d like to stay with you.” 

It crosses your mind then, a quick rabbit of a thought, darting across your consciousness that you’ve been so independent for so long, so bent on not relying on anyone for security or safety, only to have the entire rug of your resistantance ripped out from under you. It’s a gooey and warm feeling that you hope isn’t just a flash in the pan, although your gut tells you Max is the real deal. 

You hadn’t given yourself this freely to anyone in so long, panic grips at your throat for a moment, the desperate need to flee suddenly choking you. Just when the panic of what’s transpiring here threatens to pull you under, Max’s cool blue eyes yank you back to him where you belong. 

“I think I’m going to like having you by my side.” His breath fans out over your cheeks, pulling you further out of your tumble.

Max stands, sensing something shifting deep within you then. He saw something pass behind your eyes just then, the delicate shiver of hesitation. He’d been expecting it. No one who was as strong as you were got that way without having a story to tell. He knew that and had known this moment would come. What he hadn’t expected was to watch you pull yourself back from that precipice of panic. It had been a stunning thing to watch, even if the act was nothing more than a fleeting moment. But the way he watched you catch yourself spinning and knit yourself back together without so much as a whisper of a breath made him want to shield you from whatever had caused you the heartache to begin with. 

He holds his hand out to you, which you gladly take, and leads you towards the door while knotting his fingers up with yours. The nerves in your stomach settle with his touch and it sort of scares you, how well this man can read you so soon. This had been the last thing you had ever thought would happen when the man you were falling for walked into your life just 2 weeks ago. 

yourpersonalinsta posted

198,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbull racing, and others yourpersonalinsta omg miami if this is how you introduce yourself to a girl, i can't wait to see how the first date goes! super proud of @/maxverstappen1 for winning the spring race today. next up: quali. user992 girl is auditioning to be the next WAG in the paddock >>>user020 seriously thirsting for nothing but clout this weekend maxverstappen1 told you you'd bring me extra luck this weekend >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ >>>user0093 oh this is interesting user9392 the fact that she was such a genuine fan of the sport before and now she's AT her first race as Max's guest all because of her podcast. i just... >>>user223 now i'm crying, thanks. redbullracing so fun having you in the garage today! excited for sunday! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for having me!

There was just something so enticingly attractive about watching Max race on Sunday that had you feeling embarrassingly needy for him by the time he got you back to his hotel room that night. As you had watched him on the podium that afternoon, you just knew how messy you’d be below him later that night.

“I think your performance this weekend has earned you a reward.” Your rasp, voice a husky whisper in his ear as you glue yourself to him in the elevator that evening.

Max cocks an eyebrow at you while his fingers grip at your hips. “Oh yeah? And what would that be, lifeje?”

“Why don’t you take me back to your room and let me show you.” You lick at his neck, savoring the taste of sweat and champagne that clings to him despite his shower at the track earlier.

Max’s groan is enough of an answer and when the elevator slows, signaling your arrival at his floor, you follow him out into the quiet hallway, giggling when he playfully grabs a handful of your ass.

You had tried to convince yourself the entire drive back to the hotel that this wasn’t how the night was going to end. It was too soon, you thought. This was the first weekend you had spent any time with him and you didn’t want Max to get the wrong idea about you. And then he had spent the entire drive back to the hotel with one hand inching higher and higher up on your bare thigh. His thick fingers traced random patterns on your tanned skin, until the very tips had slipped just under the hem of your dress and all thoughts had eddied right out of your head.

Max, meanwhile, had been thinking of this moment since the second he had climbed out of the car. He didn't want to push you but the need to learn how you sounded when he was buried deep inside you was was out of control.

The moment the door snicks closed behind you, you're shoving Max against the wall, utterly desperate to get your mouth on him. Sinking to your knees in front of him, hands trailing down his torso. Your fingers drag over the skin just above the waistband of his jeans, long nails sending a shudder down Max's spine.

"Let me taste you, Max." You moan, reaching for the buckle of his belt.

"Please." He begs as he sinks his hands deep into your hair.

You have to stifle a gasp when you free his thick cock from his boxers, pushing the soft cotton down to his ankles along with his jeans. He's already desperatly hard, dick all red and angry with arousal, practically begging you to take it in your mouth.

Max can hardly believe the sight before him. You down on your knees for him, lips mere millimeters from his raging hard-on, was probably the prettiest sight he'd seen in a long time. When you first wrap your lips around the tip, tongue darting out to taste the salty precum that he's already leaking, it takes every ounce of control Max has to not sink deep down your throat.

"Holy fuck, baby." He shudders, fingers gripping your hair even tighter. Max would be lying if he said he hadn't played out this exact scenario several times over the past two weeks, only it had been his own hand fisting his cock instead of your lips.

All you do is hum in response, the vibration of your voice sending sharp new shivers bolting down Max's spine. One hand snakes up his toned thighs, enjoying the thick muscles bunching and flexing as you take him deeper down your throat. Your other hand, however, trails down your own thighs, dipping below the hem of your dress to find your own already ruined panties wet with the arousal Max has already drawn from you.

"You like touching yourslef while you suck me off, pretty girl?" Max's voice is all gravel as his hips snap towards you, forcing you to take him even deeper into your mouth.

You look up at him, eyes watering, thick lashes matted with tears and smile the best you can with your lips wrapped around him. You continue your work, head bobbing up and down on his length, enjoying the way his dick is slick with your saliva, a bit of it dripping down your chin as you take him even deeper. You swear you could spend the rest of the night down on your knees with how good Max feels and tastes in your mouth, your own fingers buried deep inside you. The release you've been wanting all week starts to build and Max begins to feel it too.

Max knows he's not going to last much longer and he doesn't want to come quite yet. Gently he pulls you off, chuckling at the mewl of protest that slips past your lips when he pushes you off of him.

"Max." You whine, wanting nothing more than to swallow his release down your throat.

"Get on the bed, lifeje." He orders.

You scramble to your feet, disappointment at not making him come with your mouth quickly replaced with the anticipation of what you know is coming next. You've tried so hard to resist the fact that you've wanted this since the moment you saw him Friday afternoon but as you lay down on the bed and watch Max stalk towards you like a lion after his prey, all reservations evaporate into thin air. You know deep within your chest that this is what's supposed to happen right now.

"Dress off." He commands and the thrill of being ordered around flashes through you.

You follow his directions before laying back on the pillow, watching as Max reaches behind him back to strip off the sweaty team kit you hadn't bothered taking off before sucking his dick. A sudden wave of vulnerability sweeps over you as Max stands at the foot of the bed, eyes raking over your bare frame.

"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on." Max murmurs, sensing your hesitation at being so vulnerable in front of him. He doesn't want you to be nervous, needing you to know how utterly obsessed he is with you. It staggers him when he thinks about how deeply you've dug yourself under his skin in such a short time. You've barely spent longer than a few days together and he's already so deeply lost in you.

"Do something, Maxie." You beg, squirming under his heated stare.

His weight is heavy and delicious when he finally covers your body with his, notching his cock just outside your dripping core. Max reaches down, letting out a heated moan when he feels how wet you are for him. "You are soaked for me, gorgeous girl. God, how did I get so lucky? Have you been like this all fucking day, schatje?"

"Been desperate for you all fucking day, Max." You breath, your hips lifting up off the bed in a needy search for the friction you crave.

"Lets see if we can get you some relief, yeah baby?"

When Max sinks into you for the first time, you can't help the desperately needy whine that escapes from your mouth. His name is a prayer on your lips, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. The stretch of his cock burns in the most delicious way. "So full." You cry as Max's hips meet yours when he slides into you completely.

Max doesn't quite understand how you're so blissfully tight and wet and warm all at the same time but he thinks it's the best feeling he's ever experienced. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he buries himself in you to the hilt, the base of his dick grinding against your clit. "Fuck, you're to tight around me baby. How do you feel this fucking good?"

You and Max fall into a rhythm, the only sound in the room are the quieted sighs slipping their way from your lips before Max can steal them from your throat. The friction is amazing and before he can quell it, Max feel the lick of fire coiling at the base of his spine, telltale sign that he's about to spill. “Won’t last much longer.” He pants, lips falling to suck at the skin at your neck. 

Max struggles to keep the pace up, diving into you with long, slow strokes that fill you up and empty you out over and over and over. Sweat forms on his brow that was tipped down in concentration and you have to resist the urge to lick it off. Every stroke deep into your pussy fills you up so fully it's almost too much. Too much sensation, too much heat, too much fullness. You can’t help the whines that slip from your lips but Max only encourages them by chanting your name over and over. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He coos in your ear as your muscles tense beneath him. “You’re doing so good for me, taking it all so good.” 

The praise is almost too much. “Don’t stop.” You beg when his fingers dip down between you to find your clit as he continues to stroke into you. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids. “Holy fuck. Max.” You manage to bite out.

“Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my dick, please baby.” Blinding need consumes Max's entire existence, his full attention focused on the way you clench around him over and over.  

That’s all it takes. The command sends you hurtling over the edge, right into a spine tingling orgasm. Your body goes rigid for a moment under Max's weight but as quick as it starts, a boneless languid feeling sweeps through you as the endorphins flood your system. Your own climax has pushed Max over he edge and he comes hard, groaning in your ear as he rasps your name. 

Max collapses on top of you and you relish the heavy weight of his body on yours. Much too soon, he rolls off and you whimper, instantly feeling empty without him inside you. Max gathers you up in his arms though, the heat of his body quickly warming your chilled skin. Your hand settles on his chest, right over his heart, which is still racing.

“Jesus Christ, shactje.” Max finally breaks the silence, giving my hip a squeeze as he nuzzles into my hair. “You really are going to ruin me.”

maxverstappen1 posted:

838,291 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1: another great weekend with a good haul of points! Thank you Miami, you were good to us. On to the next! user2992 uh, max? care to explain that second photo >>>user92928 is that who I think it is??? yourpersonalinsta had so much fun with you this weekend! can't wait for the next one >>>maxverstappen1 ❤️ >>>user0221 EXCUSE ME. user0022 i ran into them late Sunday night at the hotel and let me tell you...there's nothing PR about their chemistry together. >>>user9288 i fucking KNEW it user05543 anyone else see @/yourpersonalinsta's dad in the likes!?

yourpersonalinsta posted

231,209 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, charlesleclerc and others yourpersonalinsta after this weekend, i think i can consider myself officially a red bull girlie. blissfully excited i got to see a MV1 podium AND sprint win! thank you for letting me into your world @/maxverstappen1. can't wait til next time ❤️ maxverstappen1 gonna need you at every race now that you're my lucky charm. user9282 'thank you for letting me into your world' YOU EXPECT ME TO ACT NORMAL AFTER THAT CAPTION MA'AM??? >>>user7623 kicking my feet and giggling and i'm not even @/yourpersonalinsta omg redbullracing you're welcome in the garage any time!! >>>user9935 even admin has a crush! >>>maxverstappen1 @/user9935 i mean, how can you not??? >>>user9935 omg hi king. glad you know how amazing she is! don't hurt our girl, k??? >>>maxverstappen1 i would never ☺️ (liked by yourpersonalinsta)

maxverstappen1 private stories

story replies: yourpersonalinsta god i look good in navy >>>maxverstappen1 no more ferrari red for you, sweet girl >>>yourpersonalinsta miss you already 😢 >>>maxverstappen1 i know. i'll see you soon, promise >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ danielricciardo excuse me but WHAT THE FUCK >>>maxverstappen1 : 🤭 charlesleclerc oh she's got you using the lip biting emoji. it's over, pack it up boys. MV1 is officially off the market. >>>maxverstappen1 accurate though

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