#or they may only slow down as I make art of other things

[legendary-69420]

Art, Arguments, and Absolute Mayhem

Chapter 14

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 3 )

racing hearts

A/N : This is a pretty big chapter and It took me a LOT of time to write..share your thoughts in the comments

Mark sat at the kitchen counter, idly stirring his coffee, though he hadn’t taken a single sip. The soft clinking of dishes filled the quiet Monaco apartment as Signore Lazzaro moved around the kitchen with practiced ease.

The older man glanced over briefly before setting down a plate of toast in front of Mark. “You have been staring at that cup for an unreasonable amount of time, ragazzo.”

Mark blinked, then sighed. “I’m thinking.”

Lazzaro hummed as he poured himself a coffee. “Ah, a dangerous pastime.” He took a slow sip before continuing, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. “And what, may I ask, has occupied your thoughts so thoroughly this morning?”

Mark exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “Charles kissed me.”

Lazzaro did not even look surprised. Instead, he calmly set his cup down, folding his hands neatly on the counter. “At last.”

Mark narrowed his eyes. “That’s it? At last?”

Lazzaro arched a brow. “Would you prefer I feign shock? Because I assure you, that would be dishonest.”

Mark groaned, slumping back in his chair. “No, but—I mean, he just walked up to me, kissed me, and then stormed off like I was the one who did something insane! And I still have no idea why he did it!”

Lazzaro sighed, shaking his head as though speaking to a particularly slow student. “Mark, you are an intelligent young man, but sometimes, you lack the ability to see what is directly in front of you.”

Mark scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Lazzaro took another sip of his coffee before meeting Mark’s gaze. “It is quite simple. He was jealous.”

Mark frowned. “Jealous? Of what?”

Lazzaro set his cup down with measured patience. “Ragazzo, you are impossibly charming. You socialize with ease. People gravitate toward you. And Charles…” He tilted his head slightly. “Charles is not quite fond of you at that time in these matters.”

Mark folded his arms. “That doesn’t give him the right to just kiss me out of nowhere and act like nothing happened.”

Lazzaro exhaled slowly, as though suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. “And have you spoken to him about it?”

Mark hesitated. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Mark exhaled, staring into his untouched coffee.

“Because I used to tell Charles everything. Every stupid problem, every random thought. But this—this is the one thing I can’t just talk to him about.”

Lazzaro regarded him for a moment before nodding. “I understand.” He stood up, beginning to clear the plates. “However, avoiding the matter will not make it disappear.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his temples. “I was hoping you would tell me what to do.”

Lazzaro smirked, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “Ah, so now you seek my wisdom?”

Mark scowled at him. “Yes, old man, that’s why I’m sitting here having an existential crisis over my coffee.”

Lazzaro chuckled, shaking his head. “Mark, you already know what must be done. You are simply reluctant to do it.”

Mark frowned. “And what exactly do I know?”

Lazzaro turned to face him fully, his expression patient yet firm. “You wish to speak to him.”

Mark stared at him, expression unreadable, but he did not argue.

Because he knew Lazzaro was right.

The day’s PR schedule promised to be simple: a series of fun, light-hearted activities to boost Ferrari’s image. But with Charles and Mark at the center of it, simple was never on the table. Cameras were set up, crew members were mic-ing them up, and the room was filled with the hum of quiet excitement. The first activity was a blindfolded driving challenge on a racing simulator. One of them would be blindfolded, and the other had to guide them through the track with only their voice as a tool.

Mark was the navigator first, and Charles sat in the driver’s seat with a black blindfold tied securely over his eyes. He adjusted his grip on the wheel and sighed deeply. "Don’t mess this up, Mark. I actually want to finish the track," he warned, his tone laced with suspicion.

Charles rolled his eyes but secured the blindfold around his head. "Don’t sabotage me, Spencer. I know you like to play dirty."

"Who, me?" Mark gasped, all faux innocence. "I would never do such a thing."

The second Charles’s vision was gone, Mark’s antics began.

"Alright, move forward. Slow, slow, slow—STOP!" Mark yelled, his voice full of panic for absolutely no reason.

Charles slammed the brakes. "What? What happened?!"

"Nothing, I just wanted to see if you'd listen," Mark cackled.

"You are insufferable," Charles grumbled, gripping the controller tightly. "Just tell me where to go!"

"Have a little faith in me, Leclerc," Mark grinned, standing behind him with his arms crossed. "I’ve got the vision of an eagle."

"Eagles are the ones that see, not speak," Charles shot back, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

"Details, details," Mark muttered with a wave of his hand. "Alright, let’s do this. Go straight."

Charles slowly pressed on the virtual accelerator, the simulated car rolling forward on the track. For a moment, it seemed like everything would go smoothly. But then Mark’s focus wavered.

"Oh, wait, wait, wait, left! Left, left! No, no—right!" Mark’s panicked voice echoed through the room as Charles jerked the wheel in confusion.

"WHICH IS IT, MARK?!" Charles shouted, his body leaning with the car as if that would help him turn it.

"Uh, straight! No—left! Crap, that’s a wall—NO!" Mark’s voice reached a pitch only dogs could hear as Charles’ car collided with the side of the track.

"MERDE!" Charles groaned, tossing his head back against the headrest. "Are you even looking at the screen?!"

"I’m looking! I’m looking!" Mark insisted, squinting at the screen like he’d never seen a racing game in his life. "I—oh, my hoodie string is uneven. Hang on." He began fiddling with the hoodie’s drawstrings, tugging them back and forth to make them even.

"MARK!" Charles’s voice was pure exasperation. "I CAN'T SEE THE SCREEN!"

"Right, right, sorry! Okay, gas, gas, gas—NO, BRAKE!" Mark’s hands flailed wildly as if that would somehow transfer the message faster. But it was too late. Charles’s car crashed head-on into the barrier, the in-game announcer declaring, “Race Over.”

Silence.

Charles pulled off the blindfold and slowly turned toward Mark, his eyes narrow and full of disbelief. "I’m never letting you guide me anywhere. Ever. Not on a track. Not on a sidewalk. Not even in a parking lot."

Mark cackled, slapping his knee. "Dude, that’s on you for trusting me."

The next round had them switch roles. This time, Charles had to blindfold Mark, and everything took a turn—for Charles' mind, at least.

He reached over, fingers brushing against Mark’s cheek as he adjusted the blindfold. The scent of Mark’s cologne, fresh like sea salt and citrus, hit him like a punch. His fingertips lingered just a second too long on Mark’s jawline. His throat went dry. Suddenly, he was hyper-aware of how close they were—his breath hitching as images flashed uninvited into his mind.

Mark leaned forward obediently. Charles reached around to tie the blindfold behind his head, fingers brushing lightly against Mark's jawline. Soft. His fingers lingered just a second too long on the curve of Mark’s neck.

Focus, Charles. It’s just a blindfold. But his mind didn’t listen. Instead, it betrayed him with flashes of Mark pulling him in by the collar and pressing him against the wall, their mouths connecting with a ferocity that left him breathless. His fingers pressed harder into Mark’s skin for a moment, his breath hitching.

What if I just pinned him down and then kissed him right here? His eyes darted to Mark's jawline and then his neck. Charles started seeing visions of him making out with Mark in the foggy room with dim lights. Mark softly groans as he is blindfolded and Charles is kissing him. Charles moves his hand over Mark's neck earning a small moan from Mark allowing him to enter Mark's mouth and passionately kiss him. Mark is now without any piece of clothing, Charles moves his hands over Mark's bare chest and abs. Mark soft moans turn on Charles even more. Then Charles' hands move down and-

“Charles?” Mark's voice broke through the fog. “You good, Lec?”

Charles snapped back to reality, pulling his hands away quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat.

Get it together, man.

"Charles?" Mark tilted his head, the fabric of the blindfold wrinkling slightly. "You good? You’re taking forever."

"I’m fine!" Charles’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Perfectly fine. Here, blindfold on. Done. Done!"

Mark raised a skeptical brow, but Charles had already turned his back, walking away like the ground was suddenly on fire.

“Alright, genius,” Charles said, gripping the mic. “I’m actually going to help you. Unlike some people.”

Mark tilted his head. “Don’t make me take this blindfold off and fight you.”

The two bickered the entire time, Charles’ instructions clear but filled with sarcastic quips. Unlike Mark, he didn’t let his attention wander—though his eyes may have wandered a bit too long on the sharp lines of Mark’s jawline as he focused.

Artistic Chaos

Their next PR stunt was an artistic endeavor — sketching portraits of each other. The challenge? The artist could request poses from their “model.”

"Okay, Charles, do a heroic pose. Fist on your hip. Chin up, eyes to the horizon," Mark instructed, holding his pencil like a sword.

Charles played along, holding the pose with exaggerated flair. "Like this?"

Mark snorted. "Yeah, if you were on the cover of Worst Superhero Ever magazine."

After a few minutes Mark tilted the sketchbook revealing a stupid ugly stickman with two spikey hair on his head and he titled it 'Charles'.

Charles was not surprised by the drawing whatsoever "Guessed so"

Mark smirked, "Oh sorry hold on lemme just flip the page" Mark flipped the page and revealed an almost photorealistic sketch of Charles with his prominent features more well defined.

Charles was dumbfounded but still not surprised as it was SO Mark to do such a thing. Of course he knows how to draw well.

"Drew you like one of my French girls- ahem guys" Mark cackled.

-

"Mark, take off your shirt," Charles said, crossing his arms.

Mark froze for half a second before shrugging. "Alright." He grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it, his toned abs and chest coming into view. Charles’s eyes went wide, his brain short-circuiting as he caught sight of the sharp V-line at Mark’s hips.

OH GOD. STOP. STOP LOOKING.

"NO! KEEP IT ON! KEEP IT ON!" Charles’s voice came out in a panicked shout, his hands waving in front of him like he was warding off a ghost.

Mark burst into laughter, letting his shirt drop. "You’re so weird, Leclerc."

"No, you’re weird," Charles mumbled, face red, eyes stubbornly fixed on his sketchpad.

Later, during an interview segment, they were asked to share nicknames for each other. Charles listed simple ones—"Spencer," "idiot," and "Mr. Distraction"—while Mark’s list was pure chaos: "Charlie Boy," "Princess of Monaco," "French Fry," and "Green Flag Leclerc." Charles shook his head, muttering, "Never calling me that."

“Alright,” Charles started. “For Mark, we have: Idiot, Stupid, Pain in the A—”

“Hey! Those are not pet names,” Mark shot back. “Alright, for Charles, we have: Legend, Leclec, Little Prince, Sharles, Charlie, Mr. Always P3—”

“Take that back!” Charles shouted, slapping Mark's arm.

“I WILL NOT!” Mark cackled.

The cameras flickered on, capturing the two Ferrari drivers seated side by side, their faces lit with that familiar mischievous glow. It was another PR interview, but for some reason, the energy today was pure chaos.

Mark’s Verbal Blunders

Mark leaned forward, squinting at the question card in front of him. “If I’m correctly being wrong here…” he started, his face full of confidence.

Charles turned to him slowly, his face contorting in exaggerated disbelief. “What?” he deadpanned, his eyebrows shooting up.

Mark blinked innocently. “What?”

Charles rubbed his face with both hands, letting out a groan. “What does that even mean, mon dieu (my god)? You’re either correct or you’re wrong, Mark! Pick a side!”

"Words are hard, Charles. You wouldn’t understand," Mark deadpanned.

"I understand you’re an idiot," Charles shot back.

Mark snickered, leaning his elbow on the table. He gave Charles a cheeky grin, not knowing what he’d done. The crew behind the cameras burst into laughter, and Charles dropped his head onto the table, tapping it lightly like he was begging for mercy.

---

Later, when asked to offer each other words of motivation, Mark turned to Charles, face full of fake sincerity.

“Charles, God gives his strongest battles to his hardest soldiers,” Mark said with all the gravitas of a prophet.

Silence.

Then Mark added, "And you’re really hard."

Charles’ jaw dropped and in a concerned voice he said "MARK. NO!" He shoved him off his chair, both of them howling with laughter.

---

Mark’s "Brilliant" Ideas

Later, during a behind-the-scenes clip, Mark could be seen inspecting the area for a spot to shoot a promo. He gestured toward a concrete wall with a slick, graffiti-like design. “Hey, guys, can we get a shot so we’re behind that cool-looking wall?”

Charles glanced up, squinting at Mark like he’d just heard the dumbest idea of the century. “You mean… in front of it?” he asked slowly, each word loaded with mock confusion.

Mark froze, eyes darting to the wall, back to Charles, and then to the wall again. “…Yes.”

The entire crew erupted in laughter, and Charles put his hands on his hips, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “C’est incroyable (This is unbelievable),” he muttered, grinning despite himself.

The Wierd Dilemma

Back in another interview chair, Mark tilted his head, eyes squinting like he was unlocking the mysteries of the universe. “Mosquitoes can fly, right?”

Charles sighed, knowing something ridiculous was about to follow. “Yes, Mark. Mosquitoes can fly.”

“But a fly can’t mosquito,” Mark added with a slow, thoughtful nod. “Isn’t that… concerning?”

The pause that followed was deadly. Silence stretched as the crew collectively realized what he’d just said. Charles blinked once. Twice.

“WHAT?!” Charles finally shouted, half-screaming, half-laughing as he threw his head back. “Are you serious right now?” He shook his head, face buried in his hands, muttering to himself in French. “Je ne peux pas faire ça (I can’t do this).”

Mark shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. “I’m just saying. Something to think about.”

Cultural Reflections

During a break, Mark leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head, looking especially thoughtful. Out of nowhere, he declared, “Good thing I wasn’t born in China.”

Charles looked over at him, confused. “Pourquoi (why)?”

Mark didn’t miss a beat. “I can’t speak Chinese.”

There was silence. Charles blinked at him slowly, lips parting as he processed what had just been said. Then he burst out laughing so hard that he doubled over, clutching his stomach. The crew behind the camera was howling too, and even the cameraman’s lens shook from the vibration of laughter.

“Arrête, arrête (Stop, stop),” Charles wheezed, gasping for air. “How do you live like this?”

Multilingual Chaos

At another point in the day, the interviewer asked a simple question, but Mark’s brain was miles ahead — or perhaps miles behind. He casually started answering in French, his words flowing smoothly. Charles blinked, visibly impressed, until suddenly Mark shifted into Italian mid-sentence.

“Et c’est pourquoi je pense que la stratégie devrait être… e poi abbiamo bisogno di concentrarci sul ritmo del settore finale (And that’s why I think the strategy should be… and then we need to focus on the pace of the final sector),” Mark rambled, his hands gesturing as if this all made perfect sense.

Charles tilted his head, brow furrowing. “Wait, wait, wait. Did you just—”

Charles snorted. “Tu es un homme étrange, Mark (You’re a strange man, Mark).”

Roasting Gone Right

“Mark, do you know what would really help your driving?” Charles said casually during a Q&A session.

Mark, already on edge, raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m dying to hear this.”

“Maybe if you focused on the road instead of the crowd. I’ve seen you waving at fans like you’re at a parade.”

Mark’s jaw dropped as the crew howled in laughter. But he didn’t stay stunned for long. “Okay, but at least I have fans to wave at.”

The entire room gasped. Charles clutched his chest like he’d been fatally wounded, leaning away dramatically. “Oh! Oh! Il m'a eu (He got me)!” he cried, hands over his heart like he’d just been stabbed.

Flirting Disguised as Banter

The lighthearted roasting escalated into something else entirely. As they stood next to each other for a photo shoot, Charles eyed Mark up and down, lips quirking into a smirk. “You think you’re cute, huh?” he teased.

Mark flipped his hair in an exaggerated, slow-motion gesture. “I don’t think. I know.”

Charles clicked his tongue. “Arrogant.”

“Je suis magnifique, et tu le sais (I’m magnificent, and you know it),” Mark shot back, giving Charles a wink.

Charles chuckled, looking away like he was trying not to be affected. “I hate you.”

“Love you too-” Mark replied instantly, grinning then freezing, realizing what just came out of his mouth.

Good thing Charles didn't hear it.

Fans ate up every moment, filling the internet with clips, edits, and comments:

@ferrarifangirl_23: "THE WAY CHARLES YELLED 'KEEP THEM ON' OMGGGG I’M CRYING."

@chaosmarkstan: "THE BLINDFOLD MOMENT WAS NOT PG. CHARLES. WE SAW YOUR FACE. YOU ARE NOT SLICK."

@charlesforever: "They’re basically future husbands at this point. Just get married already."

@f1_chaos: “The sexual tension is unbearable.”

@markcharlesupdates: “Charles said ‘keep it on’ but his *eyes said otherwise.”

@chaotic_scuderia: “Mark out here speaking French, Italian, and the language of dangerous seduction.”

@leclercspencer_stan: “Mark: ‘If I’m correctly being wrong’ Charles: ‘tf does that mean?’ ME: 'tf does that mean?'”

@allf1all_chaos:"The way Charles paused while blindfolding Mark. HE WAS HAVING THOUGHTS."

The internet’s collective reaction could be summed up in two words: “I’m dead.”

[rinatic]

The Bet | Johnny Suh - pt.2

Pairing: Johnny x fem!reader

Genre: romance, Johnny spoils the reader.

Word count: 2300+

Warnings: none.

A/n: phew! This has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, I finally got to post it and it's especially for @neomooniez because she wanted part 2! I'm so sorry that you had to wait that long omg forgive meeeee 😩 i hope this is satisfying enough sorry i lost the spark also sorry if this is too short 😶 i hope my writing improved though because if it's not I'll actually crash out (i barely even write like ??? Why would improvement happen) 😭 oh and no mark this time lmao

Months had passed since that fateful night—the gamble that had set you free. You no longer flinched at the sound of poker chips clinking against each other, no longer felt like you were just an accessory anymore. You were, for the first time in years, your own person. And yet, the man who had granted you freedom refused to disappear from your orbit. It seemed that Johnny's motive wasn't only to set you free. This man seemed to want more.

Johnny Suh had a way of lingering. Not in an overbearing way, not in the suffocating way your ex did, but in the kind of way that made life feel like a champagne bubble—effervescent, light, and just a little intoxicating. He was only a boyfriend's friend, but now.. he may be closer to you than anyone else. And now that you're done with college, it seems that there's more room for you two to focus on each other.

It started with an apartment.

“You should have a home that’s yours,” he had said, his voice a casual hum against the rim of his whiskey glass. “Not a place that he owns.”

You had protested at first—of course, you had. “I can’t just accept an apartment in Gangnam, Johnny.”

He had only chuckled, leaning forward with that signature smirk of his. “Why not? I’m rich. I like spending money on pretty things.” A pause. A slow drag of his gaze down your frame before he met your eyes again. “And I think you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever spent on.” 

It was always like this. Before you can retort or make another argument, he would use his charm to make your brain pause. And it worked every time. 

The key had landed in your palm with a soft jingle, with a golden Cartier keychain dangling, and just like that, you had a new address. 

Life since then has been worth living. You could finally indulge in the things you couldn't do before. As he opened the door to this life for you and you only, nothing was holding you back anymore. As it should be. It would be an insult to him if you didn't indulge in the finest things he bestowed upon you. Mornings are now spent curled on a plush couch by floor-to-ceiling windows, watching Seoul stretch out beneath you like a city of endless possibility. Evenings filled with the never ending chatter of wealthy people, the clink of glasses, and the weight of Johnny’s arm draped lazily over the back of your chair at yet another exclusive gathering.

He took you everywhere. Rooftop soirées with models and designers, art gallery unveilings where wine was poured as freely as water, underground parties where DJs spun music that made your limbs itch to move. And always, always, he watched you. Not like a stalker or anything like that, but in a way that said he liked what he saw. And he did. Definitely. 

“You move differently now,” he murmured one evening, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. You turned to look at him, the golden glow of the chandelier catching in his dark eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Johnny’s lips curled into something slow, lazy and dangerous. “Less like you’re afraid someone’s about to pull the rug from under you. More like you know the ground is yours to walk on.”

You wanted to deny it, his attentiveness and awareness were always somehow embarrassing for you, but come on, he wasn’t wrong. It's not like you can have this big of a change happen to your life and not change in some ways too.

You laughed, light and easy, sipping from your glass as you tried to prevent your embarrassment from showing and put the focus on him. “You sound proud of yourself.”

He leaned in, voice dropping to something just for you. “Shouldn’t I be? I’m the one who's responsible for this. It's worth it. I get to see you doing much better. As you deserve.”

You rolled your eyes a bit to hide your feelings, not wanting to expose how his words affect the speed of your heartbeats, and the warmth that spreads in your chest every time he reminds you of your worth. 

It was always like this. Johnny would make you feel like you're the only one in the world who he looks at, smiles at and cares deeply about. The teasing was never meant to belittle or mock you. And you found comfort in his simple touches, the subtle brushes of his fingers against your back as he guided you through a room, the way he whispered comments that left your heart accelerating. 

You knew he was a flirt by nature. You had seen him charm a few women before, but now you see less of that, which made you feel better, you can tell he is just being polite to them like he would be to the men he spoke to. The difference was obvious. it felt, and was different with you. It's as if you're the only girl he wants to touch, to listen to tirelessly, and look at while he has that happy grin that reaches his ears. Only you have that effect.

One evening, at a sleek, modern lounge with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Han River, Johnny introduced you to an investor. Yes, he has been inserting your name now whenever he went to these parties to catch up with people of a high social class. He is always looking forward to help you network and have your own world outside of him. Johnny noted that you don't feel so good about him helping you at everything. So he operated from behind the scenes. Trying to make his role smaller at the opportunities you get. But still, he liked to show you off often.

“She’s got an eye for art,” he said, swirling his glass lazily. “And a mind that could turn it into something worth millions.”

You blinked. Trying to come up with something to say. “I—”

“She’s being modest,” he cut in smoothly, looking down at you with his deep eyes. A twinkle of mischief in them mixed with a gaze that pleaded you to have faith in him and let him proceed. “But trust me, you’ll want to remember her name.”

The investor smiled, intrigued, and you found herself pulled into a conversation that you never thought she’d be a part of. Yes, you have rich friends now, but are you really going to work now? With a job that will definitely be handed to you with no trouble. Thanks to the very man who, with no doubt, has his eyes on you.

Later that night, as you stood by the balcony, overlooking the city, you turned to him. “Why do you do it?”

Johnny shrugged, a slow smirk playing at his lips. He knew exactly what you meant but he found fun in toying a bit with you. “Do what?”

“Push me into these things. Put me in rooms I never imagined myself in.” you didn't know if the words came out from you in a way that showed your dislike. But you couldn't help but be a little overwhelmed. Wondering why he is doing all of this for you, and it made you feel immense guilt. Because you never returned his favours (not that you had any way of doing so) and you didn't know how to reciprocate because he barely opens up. You feared he would ask for sex, but he didn't. You can't even put a label on your relationship with him. You know it transcended friendship because of the very obvious romantic tension between you two. Even a fool would be able to tell that you two do feel for each other. Especially him. 

He studied you for a moment, then exhaled. He wanted to somehow make you see yourself from his vision, and the way you would always speak so lowly of yourself frustrated him. “Because I want you to see what I see.”

“And what’s that?”

His gaze traced your face, lingering on your lips just a second too long before returning to your eyes. “A woman who was never meant to be small.”

Your heart stumbled in your chest as you instantly shifted your gaze to the city instead. Suddenly you can feel how the little particles of air hit your skin and the heat that spreads on your face. It was as if a minute is much longer now. His fingers touched your chin as he tilted your face towards him. Johnny liked almost everything about you. Except that insecure look, and how you would immediately avoid his eyes as he tries to come out with his feelings in a way that isn't overwhelming. 

His deep eyes that reminded you of dark chocolate gazed into yours with a sentimental feel that you never knew was there. He never looked at you as he is looking now. All his attention is solely focused on you only at this moment. He breathes in. “I'll make you see, one day, that you're worth everything you have now and more. I'll make you even more happy.” 

You two gaze into each other's eyes. It was as if there was a silent communication going on between you. Your eyes held trust, comfort and a sense of calmness only he was able to bring in you. And his had a look of adoration, softness yet a hint of mild irritation. It was a weird mix but still translated his feelings for you and bared the deep love he wishes to show shamelessly. 

Out of nowhere, he utters. “Can I kiss you? Because I'm tired of not knowing what it feels like.”

You hesitated a little as you turned your face to look at the people inside. A sigh left your lips as you realized that you really shouldn't care for what others will see or think. It is indeed better to forget about the rest of the world and just kiss Johnny Suh. And hopefully the kiss will last long enough for you to lose yourself in it. That's what you hoped for. You nodded and muttered a small ‘please’. You didn't mean it but a small bit of desperation came with it. Who were you kidding? You wanted this too. 

He leans in with just enough confidence and gently presses his soft lips to yours. You find your lips attached to his in a magnetic pull, the kiss starts slower with a few tentative nibbles, but it quickly escalates as he brings one hand to your lower back to press your body against his. There's this impatience that seeped through his actions. It's like he wanted to do this for a long time, and he finally got the chance to do it. You can no longer resist him or subtly block his charm like you often did, nope. You welcomed him in your mind and heart with open arms. He felt it. He felt the invitation in how you kissed him back and it made him smirk faintly against your lips, his pleasantness showing as his other hand pulled you closer more, now tilting his head to kiss you more passionately. 

After the kiss that almost lasted for a minute ended. You had pulled back to breath, not that you minded suffocating in his kisses. You felt simultaneously loved and desired. 

“Now that I got the chance to taste your lips, I'm afraid I can't hold back anymore. I want you to become mine.” He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world to say. You couldn't help but grin happily, you couldn't help but feel happy, and that energy radiated from your body effortlessly like it always did in his presence, but now there's more of that energy, you truly felt happy deep inside. And that's what mattered to you. To be in a situation where you didn't even have time to hesitate. Because he is the right person for you, and you know it now. 

“You're serious,” you uttered the statement that was meant to be a question, you couldn't really question him as there's no need for that. His eyes had everything written in them now, nothing was subtle anymore as he bared his desire for a relationship with you. Though it was obvious he had a thing for you, his straightforwardness in his want of having you as his girl didn't fail to make your heart beat faster than usual. To feel that feeling of butterflies dancing in your stomach, a feeling so overwhelming you couldn't help but put your hand there. 

Johnny smiled, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her. And maybe he did.

Maybe he always did.

You couldn't help but move closer and bury your face in his chest as your arms raised to hold him. The deep sense of calmness came back to settle in your chest, and the trust in him was now very clear. He giggled faintly at your actions. “I take that as a yes.” 

He had a dorky grin on his face as his gaze shifted to the sky and straight to the moon. His wish came true, and his dream finally concluded with the result he desired deeply. You were now his. And he couldn't help but have scenarios run through his mind of how you two will proceed together from now on and what this relationship will bring you two. But he decided to push the thoughts aside to equally immerse himself with the feeling of love that coated your hearts in similar measures. 

“I need you to know how much I love you,” he mumbled into your hair after kissing the top of your head. “and just so you know, I want all your love directed at me from now on, I won't accept less.” 

You giggled as you heard the slightly demanding tone in his voice, it came easily to you so you recognised his playfulness instantly. Your face tilted up as you looked at him with an endearing smile. You murmured softly. “You taught me not to accept less, so you'll see that from me too.” 

“You better, because I'll always love you the mostest, I'm sure of it.”

He cups your face in his big hands and kind of smacks his lips against yours in a second kiss. The man definitely poured his whole heart and soul into this single kiss, his passion dominates, proving how much he feels for you, and you simply allowed it. You wanted this. You loved how he showed that he doesn't play about you, and will never, ever, will.

[starkwlkr]

girl, so confusing | f1

an: might make this two or three parts, not sure yet but oh well <3 love y’all THIS IS AN AU WHERE ALL THE F1 DILFS ARE SINGLE

faceclaim gisele bündchen

part 2 part 3

liked by maxverstappen1, aussiegrit and others

yourusername 💋

aussiegrit long time no see 👀

yourusername don’t worry, I still have cherry lipgloss that’s waiting for you

aussiegrit 😉

jensonbutton well hello 😏

yourusername hey there stranger

jensonbutton stranger? you’re breaking my heart, baby

sebastianvettel miss you lots!

yourusername come over then

sebastianvettel don’t tempt me

ferraridepressionclub y/n fr has all the dilfs in her comments i wanna be like her when i grow up

paddockgirlies she’s so iconic

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INTERVIEW WITH Y/N L/N | VOGUE

In conversation with Y/n L/n about being a mother and a racing driver, and her what’s in store for her.

Known for her fierce driving and even fiercer spirit, has seamlessly transitioned into a life that’s as complex as it is rewarding. A name that echoes through the halls of motorsport history, her story is one of reinvention—a journey from high-speed thrills to quiet, profound moments of motherhood, and, possibly, a return to the racing world in an entirely new role.

The 2000s were Y/n’s golden years at Williams. Her raw talent shone even when the team’s fortunes dipped, and she quickly became a fan favorite. Known for her courage, sharp wit, and stunning moves on the track, she formed friendships with some of the sport's brightest stars—Mark Webber, Sebastian Vettel, and Jenson Button. Their bond, a cocktail of camaraderie and unspoken attraction, became as legendary as her driving.

But the glamorous world of F1, with its dazzling lights and high expectations, took a toll. In 2004, Williams made the decision to drop her from their roster—a move that would alter the course of her life forever. Y/n, at the time, found solace in the chaos. Late nights, parties, and the company of friends became her refuge.

"I wasn’t ready to let go of F1, but at that point, I wasn’t sure where I was headed." Y/n said as we chat in her London home. It’s a beautiful house with stained glass windows and the perfect amount of sunlight shining in. Her daughter is also present though she much prefers to continue with her reading as she cuddles up to her mother.

But in the unpredictable world of racing, the story of Y/n was far from over. A fresh start beckoned when McLaren offered her a seat, a move that many saw as her redemption arc. She embraced the opportunity, her focus sharper than ever. The partying ceased. The cigarettes were put out. It wasn’t just a return to the sport—it was a return to herself.

Her career, marked by precision and passion, came to an official close in 2014, but Y/n’s influence has never waned. Retirement, though, didn’t equate to slowing down. Today, Y/n is a mother—something that’s become a cornerstone of her identity.

“I’ve always been independent, but being a mom has redefined what it means to be strong," she says, her eyes softening. "It’s a different kind of challenge, but one I’m grateful for every single day.”

Her daughter, now nine, was born a year after her retirement. She had announced the birth on her social media with a simple caption: “welcome to the world, my beautiful girl”

“As a mom, I’ve learned the art of balancing," Y/n reflects. "There are days when I’m just a mom—no racing, no interviews, no drama. And then there are days when I’m reminded of who I was before all of this. It's about finding peace with both versions of myself.”

At this point, her daughter stops reading her book and places several kisses on her mother’s cheek. It was a beautiful moment between mom and daughter.

“The future is full of possibilities. I’m focused on what’s next, but I'm not in any rush. We’ll see what happens. Right now, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Motherhood may have softened some edges, but it has only sharpened her focus. If there’s one thing Y/n has taught us, it’s that the greatest drivers are those who can keep pushing, even when they’re driving toward the unknown.

INTERVIEW WITH Y/N | THE PADDOCK SESSIONS PODCAST

“Welcome everyone to the paddock sessions podcast. I’m your host Dan and todays guest is a very special one. She is my favorite driver and I’m going to try not to freak out right now. Y/n L/n welcome to the paddock sessions!” Dan the host said into his microphone.

Y/n smiled and thanked Dan for the introduction. “Favorite driver? Dan, I’m flattered. I’ll pay you later.” She joked.

“You’re actually the reason my girlfriend watches formula 1. She watched your past races and was devastated when I told her you retired in 2014. I think she was thinking of breaking up with me because I told her,” Dan admitted. Y/n chuckled at his words. “But can we see a potential comeback for you? I know I’m not the only one that would love to see that!”

“Well I can’t really stay away from formula 1. I try to watch the races with my daughter, but she’s not interested in racing at all so I always end up watching them alone.” Y/n explained as she adjusted the microphone.

“Daughter of a racing driver isn’t interested in racing? That’s wild. But at least she knows that her mom is a legend in the sport, yeah?” Dan asked.

“She’s reminded every time we go out and I’m stopped because someone wants an autograph or a picture,” Y/n laughs. “But she knows the basics, she knows what all the number means, she’s a smart girl.”

“Amazing. Um, on the topic of your daughter, and you can stop me if you want, you’ve always been an open book in many ways, yet when it comes to your daughter’s father, you’ve kept things private. How hard has it been to keep things like that private? I imagine it must be frustrating.”

Y/n nodded and cleared her throat. “I’ve always believed in protecting my daughter’s privacy, and for me, that extends to the people closest to us. I’ll say this: my daughter is incredibly lucky to have the most amazing father. He’s the kind of dad who would do anything to keep her safe and happy. I know she’s growing up in a secure and loving environment because of him. He’s protective, but in the best way possible.”

“Have you seen the tweets regarding it?” Dan asked curiously.

“Oh yeah, it’s all over my feed. I’ve actually read some pretty crazy shit about the father of my daughter.” Y/n said.

“Any favorites?”

“There’s a thread that was posted recently on why Lewis is the father of my daughter. I love Lewis, but I can confirm he is not. He’s actually the godfather.”

“Well, you heard it hear first folks!”

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 19

(I know I'm tech on a break this week, but I could use the serotonin.) masterpost

“He understands that I am coming over?” Damian asked as he inspected his pencil case to make sure he had everything he needed. Father would be picking him up from art class to fetch lunch.

“Yep, Danny knows we’re bringing lunch over,” Grayson answered. His thumb swiped idly across his phone.

Damian took a slow breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He loved Grayson, but it did not mean that the other was not an idiot sometimes. Sometimes family meant loving someone even though they were an idiot, Damian reminded himself.

In an attempt to start again, Damian stayed silent until he was sure that he had all of his supplies in his messenger bag. “I meant, does Danny understand that it is specifically me bringing the food? Does Danny understand who I am?”

“Oh, Dami baby, yeah,” Grayson said, voice softening in a way that made Damian bristle. At least Grayson finally set his phone down. “Jay talked to him about it and is still there at the apartment with Danny now. I’ll over over to give Jason a break and be there when you and Bruce come. Do you want me to double check with Danny before you arrive?”

Damian frowned as he adjusted the strap on his bag.

“Yes,” Damian answered after a pause and when he could meet Grayson’s eyes confidently. “I believe that the redundancy would not go amiss.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll be sure to double check before you and Bruce get there.”

“Acceptable,” Damian said and let to find Pennyworth for his ride to class.

Doing art calmed him. That knowledge had been a surprise at first. While Damian had, of course, learned about art as part of his cultural and historical training, actually being able to engage in art was was something entirely knew. Something that was available to Damian only because of his Father’s allowance.

No, that was not quite right. Father didn’t allow Damian to do art, Father simply wanted them to be happy and art is what made Damian… perhaps not happy, but at least more at peace.

Peace had been such a rare thing in Damian’s life.

He still didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Annoyingly, class that day didn’t quite manage to tamper the churning in Damian’s gut. He could (and would) ignore the feeling, of course, but that did not mean it wasn’t there.

Or that it didn’t grow as Damian was waiting for Father to pick him up for class.

“You have put in the order we discussed?” Damian asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Yes, it should be ready shortly after we get there,” Father answered. “You were out quickly today.”

“Tch,” Damian looked away from his father’s searching gaze and focused on the world outside the window. He hated to have tells, but in a family of detectives it was impossible not to. “If it unlikely to be ready, perhaps we should stop by the Turkish bakery that is near. Surely there are items there that are not too sweet for his diet.”

“That’s a nice idea,” Father agreed with a thoughtful hum. “He may have never had them before so we can get a little selection of what you think he needs to try.”

Damian worked not to physically freeze. That felt suddenly like a great deal of responsibility. Which was silly, it was simply food.

“That is a sound idea,” Damian said instead of trying to face his sudden worry.

It was even more overwhelming in the face of all the options. Damian certainly spent far too long making a selection, but Father doesn’t rush him, so Damian tries to allow himself the time. The food is easily acquired after. Far too quickly that they were in front of the safehouse door. Father rested one hand on the back of Damian’s back, a bracing presence, before he knocked.

“Coming!” Grayson called needlessly through the door a few moments before he it swung open. “Hey guys, come in. It’s all good.”

Damian resisted the urge to nod to that, took a breath, and crossed the threshold.

Danny sat on the couch. The fabled day saving blue bear was clutched in the boy’s lap; clutched too tightly. Damian shot Grayson an accusatory look. Clearly it wasn’t ‘all good’.

Grayson rolled his eyes and took the box of sweets from Damian to take to the kitchen with Father.

Damian was left alone with Danny.

At least it gave Damian time to properly study the other boy. Not blood son. Clone. Better and worse at once— a copy of Father. It was clear how much Danny looked like Bruce, a redundant thought now that they knew Danny was a clone, but it crossed Damian’s mind all the same. It was odd to see the still slightly sunken cheeks and too prominent collar bones on someone that looked so much like Father, so much more like Father than Damian did.

Idly, Damian wondered if Danny would ever reach Father’s stature, what with his past. Damian himself had started to grown into wild shoulders and broad chest that would someday be his body over the last year, but Danny had not.

Danny, at least a year older, was still far too slight.

But older.

The oldest blood.

Would he try to take Damian’s place now? It would only be just, with how poorly Damian had behaved when he first arrived, especially to Drake. And Damian’s brash attacks, Danny would have the right to his. He was oldest…

“Are… are you alright?”

Damian’s head snapped up at Danny’s words. When had he lost his focus?

“I do not know,” Damian said, too honest words tumbling across his tongue without his permission.

He didn’t know.

[boltonbritreads]

🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

[x-i-l-verify]

Something that I've noticed ever since the Smiling Critters were introduced is that they can so easily be paired off into complementary duos, ones that are specifically designed to teach children fundamental lessons about life and self-care from two different angles. It's really interesting to me.

Like obviously you have Dogday and Catnap, with their sun/moon, dog/cat dichotomy, that stress how important it is to have fun and get things done during the day, but also that it's important to wind down, relax, and get a good night's sleep.

-

Bubba Bubbaphant and Craftycorn were introduced as a duo in the Smiling Critter show's intro, and their dichotomy is quite obvious. They are basically the right and left sides of the brain personified. Bubba is the left side of the brain, logical, analytical, focused on math and science. Craftycorn is the right side of the brain, creative and imaginative, focused on the arts and self-expression. They represent learning and academia in all its forms, the different ways people engage with and understand the world.

-

Hoppy Hopscotch and Kickin' Chicken form the sportsmanship duo. They are both portrayed as enjoying sports and the outdoors, but in different ways that highlight the different ways sports can be played and enjoyed and also what it entails to be successful at them. Hoppy Hopscotch may be loud and impatient, but she is also a team player, shown in her willingness to slow down her fast pace to make sure none of her friends are left behind. Kickin' Chicken, on the other hand, is laid-back, relaxed, and chill, the described "cool kid" of the group, but he's also described as having a ton of perseverance, more of a "slow and steady wins the race" type of person.

-

This leaves Bobby Bearhug and Picky Piggy as the last pair. Fittingly, these two are all about how to meet the fundamental needs of yourself and others. Bobby teaches children how to nourish themselves emotionally through showing and receiving care from others, while Picky teaches them how good food is important to nourish the body and soul. Depriving oneself of either of these things only makes oneself and therefore everyone around one miserable, because those fundamental needs are no longer being met.

-

Like fr, this is some pretty genius marketing right here. You have enough characters that every kid will have their favorite, but not so many that any would get lost in the shuffle, because the lessons each one of them would teach would be integral to the group as a whole. It really makes me that much sadder we saw basically nothing of the Smiling Critters during the game itself, because Mob Games struck gold with this concept, only to ultimately do nothing with it. :/

But I guess that's what fandom is for, eh?

[sterifels-blog]

warnings ⚠️

•nsfw! 🔞 please do not interact if you are not 18+ ❤️ you are not my responsibility.

creepypasta

REQUESTED: how they'd react if you ask them what their favorite (body) part of you is.

bloody painter

•he would say your hands. he's intrigued by your fingers, as odd as it may seem. not so much the looks of them; but instead the power they wield. "you have such delicate hands for someone so strong... makes me wonder what they could do if they weren't holding a brush." the implication is there— and, it's more of an invitation then a question. he knows what you're capable of- but he thinks he's being smooth about the fact he wants your hand wrapped around his cock.

•soft, but possessive touches: he'll hold your hand in his and trace the lines of your palm with his thumb, enjoying the way your skin feels against his rougher hand. he's not always filthy- infact, he washes his hands more that you're around. he knows you can't stand the feeling of blood smearing all over yours off of his.

•places gentle kisses on your knuckles. he'll press a kiss to your knuckles after you've done something for him, silently showing gratitude in his own way. alternatively; as he's bumping his hips to snap his pelvis tight against your own— more-so panting onto your fingers as he holds them to his parted lips. he's grunting at how good you feel, his brows tight-- and knitted together while placing soft kisses to your fingertips. bro loves you.

•admiring the art of your hands: if you paint (hopefully, with normal supplies), he'll watch you carefully, entranced by the way your fingers move across the canvas. "i like how you create... i like how you touch things."

•okay brother. calm down.

•handcuff scenario: if he's feeling possessive, he might tie your hands just to keep you close, though it's always with a Iight touch, as if savoring the moment. it's that, or he's got you in his lap- your back pressed to his chest as one of his hands keeps your wrists pulled together, and the other is brushing hair out of the way so he can kiss your neck.

•earning affection: "i know these hands could do so much more, if i let you." a quiet invitation to explore.

clockwork

•she'd say your eyes. clockwork has a dark fascination with them, and she isnt shy about making that clear: "your eyes... they've seen more than i can imagine, and yet they still hold something innocent about them." she has no issue with tainting that innocence- although she chooses to cherish it for herself, opting to keep your mind safe and away from others. your eyes only on her.

•intense gaze: she'll lock her eyes on yours, not breaking contact, as if studying you. it's like she's searching for something deep within, and it makes you feel exposed, yet strangely desired. she'll be kissing from your sternum down to your pelvis, her nails dragging along your bare sides as she relishes in the feeling of your fluttering skin against her lips.

•her lip gloss paints your stomach in a shimmery raspberry hue as she kisses your skin, her thumbs digging into your hips as they massage in slow circles.

•she's huge on teasing: "i could lose myself in them, but you'd never let me. you'd just pull away, wouldn't you?" she won't give you much of an option to pull away. she'll have you on your knees in front of her, her hand cupped under your chin as she admires the tremble of excitement that rushes down your spine.

•gentle, longing touches. she gently cups your face, forcing you to keep eye contact "i could make you see things- things you don't want to. but... you trust me, don't you?"

•when you inevitably agree with her— saying that you do trust her, her hands are parting your thighs, shamelessly sighing as her tongue traces lazy drags against your clit and labia. (she's definitely the type to write her name with her tongue, over and over until you're whining for her to do something other than tease. you're not talking at all after that)

•behind-the-scenes power: "if you look away, i'Il only make it worse. keep looking... you're mine, aren't you?"

eyeless jack

•thoughtful to say your throat. jack has an intense interest with your neck/throat. he can't stop staring at your throat, where he knows your pulse beats, so close to the surface- so easy to cut off if he so much as squeezed you hard enough. if he so much as twisted your head quick enough to cause dissection. not that he ever would- no, no. such horrific things are only reserved for his victims- but his medical knowledge often gets the better of him when intimate with your body.

•gentle but dangerous touch. he'll graze his fingers lightly along the curve of your throat, his thumb brushing the side of your neck as though testing your response. he'll hum— his nail digging softly into the prominent vein on the side of your neck, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against it as though smelling the metallic flow from the outer-shell of your skin. he doesn’t say anything, but the way his hand squeezes is word enough. jack loves you, he's made it clear over and over again- but often, he still finds it necessary to remind you that you both are different. un-alike.

•dangerous affection: "i know the veins here so well... it's almost like could just.." he might trail his fingers over your throat, his mind going to darker places as he tightens the grip he has on you to just beneath your chin, tilting your head back with a little groan into your ear. he brushes your baby hairs away from the base of your neck, leaning in to place a kiss against the base of your skull, panting with hearty breaths whilst his hips rut slow, sloppy grinds against the cheeks of your ass.

•alternatively, he’s got your legs kicked apart, his own feet placed between yours as to ensure that you don't try and squeeze them shut. pinned to him, your back against his chest— jack doesn't let you loose as his fingers swirled wide circles around your clit. his teeth graze at your ear, murmuring quietly about how easy you were for him. predictable. and you were.

•teasing whispers: he'll lean close to your ear and murmur, "your pulse is fast... what's got you worked up? it's just me.."

•holds your throat while he's fucking into you from behind.

hoodie

•your ass. zero shame, zero hesitation: hoodie doesn't even try to hide it, "you've got the best ass i've ever seen. why wouldn't i look? you should be flattered."

•he's hands-on at all times. whenever you walk past him, his hand is right there. sometimes, he gives it a playful squeeze, other times a sharp smack that makes you jump. "what? you're the one who walked by me like that."

•you, in fact, didn't even walk by. he's the one who walked by you. too many times, will you give him silence in return for his tomassery– and each time, he does the same thing. he'll come up behind you, apologetically (🤥) sliding his hands down your waist to cup your ass as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "you know i'm just teasing.."

•favorite pose? you straddling his lap. he loves when you sit on him, especially facing away so he can rest his hands on your hips— or further down. "you're making it really hard to focus, you know. not that i'm complaining.."

•and he isn't complaining, especially when he’s able to bend you over the counter later that night, groaning and grunting as he 'thanks' you for the meal you'd cooked for him after a long mission assigned by the operator. he's tired, sure; but he always has some extra stamina stored away for times like this. seeing your ass bounce on his hips as his dick bullies against your g-spot is worth every bit of energy he has left.

•constant touching: if you're lying on your stomach, he's lying next to you, his hand lazily draped over your lower back and sliding lower.

•pulling you closer: if you're standing in front of him, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back against him, hands wandering. "c'mere. you're too far away. yeah, that's better."

jason the toymaker

•your hands

•craftsman’s admiration: “your hands... so delicate, yet so full of life. they could create so much beauty... if i allowed you.” his voice carries both fascination and a subtle possessiveness, enjoying how wrapped around his fingers you were. the innuendo is there, integrated in his words. why would you need to touch yourself when he was there to do all you wished for you?

•very gentle with his touches. he loves to take your hands in his, running his fingers over the smooth skin, almost as if memorizing every line and curve. the type of guy to intertwine your fingers with his own as he keeps your wrists pinned to the bed— huffing against your neck with steady, deep thrusts. loves kissing behind your ear, grumbling about how good you take him- make him feel.

•kisses to your palms. jason has a habit of turning your hand over and pressing slow, deliberate kisses to your palm. “such beautiful hands… wasted on anything but me.” definitely prompts you into giving him a hand job, obsessive over the way your fingers feel curled around him. he thoroughly can't get enough of you, and arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he sits you in his lap for a slow makeout.

•mild.. obsession: he’ll watch you when you’re doing anything with your hands—writing, sketching, even cooking. “it’s mesmerizing, really. i could watch you all day.”

•into playful (but freaky ass) control. jason likes to guide your hands when you’re working on something, his larger hands enveloping yours. “here, let me show you how to do it properly. not that you’re bad at it… i'm just better.” this applies to the bedroom, where he's guiding your hand; curling your fingers only when he allows you to.

•possessive comments: “these hands belong to me, no? no one else gets to feel them, hold them, or be touched by them.”

jeff the killer

•dangerous attraction to your thighs: "your thighs... they look so soft. i bet they'd feel even better wrapped around me." and they do— whether they are clung at the sides of his head, or straddling his hips as he helps you ride him after a particularly high stress day. he loves them more than anything else in the world.

•gentle possessiveness.. he'll casually run his hands over your thighs, his fingers lingering just a little too long as if marking territory. does it especially when you are all sitting in a group. if given the opportunity, he'll have you tucked between him and the arm of the couch, your legs slung over his own so his hand can rub up and down yours.

•plenty of flirtatious teasing: "how tight do you think those legs could squeeze, huh? show me, and i'II make it worth your while."

•when you go about showing him- he makes it a point to keep you at his disposal until you're too satisfied to complain about anything. his tongue is useful for talking— but it is just as skillful when it's dipped between your thighs, running between your folds until you're squeezing his head so tight, he was sure his skull would crack.

•loves giving you kisses to the inner thigh. on a whim, he might press a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, just to feel the warmth of your skin. after a particularly strenuous night of.. events, it's a subtle gesture of appreciation

•"i can't help it. your thighs are just... perfect. i think i could spend all day here, don't you?"

•mock care: if he's feeling particularly mischievous, he'll gently squeeze them and say, "relax. i'Il be gentle. for now."

jane the killer

•playfully seductive: "these hips of yours.. i could write a book about how perfect they are." she smirks as her hands glide along them, leaving goosebumps in her wake. by far, they are the most favorable thing on your body in her eyes- apart from the obvious sentiment of your breasts. she thinks the proportions of them match you perfectly.

•possessive hold. jane has a habit of gripping your hips firmly, puling you closer until there's no space between you- mainly around the others of the household. there is no denying that you're hers- but it is still in her nature to be competitive over that fact, especially with her other-sex counterpart being present. "you feel so good against me. don't think i'Il let go anytime soon."

•slow in admiration. her fingers trace the curve of your hips, almost reverently. "every inch of you is stunning, but this.. this drives me insane." you're hovered over her- sweat dripping down your spine and dampening the roots of your hair as her hands guide you in a rocking motion. they are clasped tightly to your hips, nails, digging into your flesh as she encourages you to tuck in your core. she doesn't mind doing the messy work of bouncing you on her strap, so long as numbs you into that blissful state.

•dually stimulates your clit just to see them buck.

•sultry whispers while standing behind you. she'll lean in, lips brushing against your ear as her sleek nails tickled your hips with repetitive strokes. "these hips were made for my hands, don’t you think? hm?"

•when things heat up, her focus always finds its way to your hips, her kisses trailing along the curves as her grip tightens. "you have no idea what you do to me." jane's eyes linger on your hips like they're the most captivating thing in the world.

kagekao

•your mouth and messy kisses. kagekao loves kissing you- rough, messy, and without warning. he thrives on the way he can leave you breathless and completely flustered. it comes of good use when you two are arguing. you'd been rambling about something- not that he was listening; but he captured the gist of you bitching about how he was leaving the house a mess. guilty— of course he was; but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. "can't talk now, can you?"

•shutting you up: secondary to a kiss, if you're rambling or talking back, he'll cut you off with a hand against your mouth; putting you into momentary silence. it is only when his hand moves to tug at the buckle of his belt do you understand where he is truly going with it. your mouth, around him- is as good as it is while talking. as skillful as your insults- just more quiet apart from the occasional gag to fuel his ego.

•playfully dominant. he's a master of teasing you into silence, brushing his thumb over your lips and smirking. "these lips of yours are dangerous... but i like the way they feel under mine." he's cheesy because he knows it gets you going. you'll cuss him out, commencing a back-and-forth between the two of you. and as much as he enjoys shutting you up— it is, unfortunately, your 'arguments' that get him swollen and tight in his slacks.

•messy control: if you're mid-argument, he'll pin you against a wall and kiss you hard enough to stop the words from coming. "i don't care what you were going to say." he's a bit of an asshole— and when it comes to an actual confliction, you're often pushing him away as to voice your opinion.

•obsession with your voice: he's addicted to the way your lips move when you talk (+ the sound of it), and he often stares shamelessly. "keep talking- let me watch those pretty lips of yours."

•if it's been a while since he's last seen you; and you have the chance to speak to him over the phone, he's 100% not opposed to rubbing one out with you on the line. he'll go silent, listening to you ramble on about something that seems insignificant compared to the raging throb of his erection. mindlessly hums in agreement to something he shouldn't have— and gets startled when you begin scolding him over the phone.

laughing jack

•jack has a shameless fixation on your legs, especially if you're blessed with some extra height. "your legs just go on forever, don't they? makes me want to see how far they can wrap around me." his words are said with a wicked grin, no shame in his tone. if you're smaller, no worries about it— he's still intrigued about how many positions he can wrangle you into, especially with your smaller size being an accommodation.

•loves, loves, loves having you up against the wall. it's not the most practical position- but he has the strength to pull it off. at no point in time will your feet be touching the ground. your legs are slung over his hips, and mercilessly, jack is giving you no time between breaths as he fucks in and out of you. he'd been worked up over a dress you'd worn out with jane; the gap of time from which you returned— to then being railed furiously almost nonexistent.

•the stupid cunt is constant teasing: he'll comment on how your legs look in any outfit especially if they're bare. "oh, you're just showing them off today, aren't you? that's just cruel." he especially loves seeing you in skirts or short dresses. a tight pair of pants will still do justice- outlining your figure, but seeing your skin is an entirely different experience for him.

•obsessive attention. runs his hands along your thighs and calves, almost like he's worshiping them, while making playful, almost mocking comments. "so soft.. are you sure you're strong enough to be here?" he knows you are, he has no sincere doubts that you've earned your place amongst the bunch; but it intrigues him how someone as hard working as yourself could have any aspect of a gentle physic leftover.

•payful biting: he'll nip at your legs from your calvee to your thighs, just to watch you squirm. "what? can't handle a little attention?"

•restless fascination: loves having his head in your lap, running his hands up and down your legs, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "how am i supposed to behave with these perfect legs right in front of me?"

•a good smack to the head will do it.

masky

•masky has an obvious fixation on your breasts. he won't even try to hide it. when you're in close quarters, his eyes are always drawn to your chest, and he'll casually glance at them before meeting your eyes, smirking. "could you be any less distracting?"

•shameless touching: he's the type to casually rest his hand on your chest when in private, grinning like it's the most natural thing in the world. if you're not paying attention, he'll give them a slight squeeze and say, "couldn't resist, sorry." which, is a lie. he's fully capable of resisting- but with you, he doesn't care much to.

•throughly enjoys having you ride him. if not only to see the way your face twists up in pleasure; then, to see the way your breasts bounce with each desperate thrust you chase after.

•loves seeing you in workout clothes— especially something like a workout bra that cups your breasts exceptionally. he'll come up behind you, hands wandering from your sides, and against your ribs to your breasts, his fingers fondling with the under-band of your bra appreciatively. places soft kisses on the back of your neck, humming in approval as he relishes in the sight of his palms engulfing your chest in the gym mirror.

•unapologetic flirting: "look real fucking good in that top. deserve some attention, don't you think?" he'll lean in close, just to make it clear that he's very aware of what he's doing- not that you had any doubts.

•although secondary pleasure wasn't normally accommodated on his schedule (nor does he have a high drive for it)– when you gave him a tit job for the first time; he swore he was knocking on heavens door. he could hardly keep himself from giving in too early- grunting and huffing as he dragged on his cigarette, prolonging his climax for as long as he could. cusses the entire time, groaning about how good you were.

•proximity: when he sleeps, he'll have his face tucked against your collarbone, his arms wrapped around you as his nose divets to your sternum.

slenderman

•control obsession: he’s drawn to your wrists, knowing just how delicate they are and how easily he can take control. he loves— and definitely gets off on the feeling of holding them tightly, guiding you however he sees fit. “your wrists are so fragile... better reason for you to listen"

•possessive in his grip. slenderman will sometimes just stand behind you, his long fingers brushing your wrists in a possessive, almost ritualistic manner, ensuring you feel his presence without him saying a word. he might even trace your veins as if marking them as his own— otherwise, silently reminding you of your merciless place beneath him.

•soft yet firm restraint. if you’re not paying attention, he’ll slip his tendril around your wrists with a cold, firm grip, keeping you in place. his touch is both controlling and almost comforting, as if trying to stake a claim over you that is inevitable. keeps you from moving too much, because it “makes it easier to work with you.”

•tying you up: there’s something about restraining you with ropes or simple threads that bores him. he's more into using his tentacles— wrapping them around your wrists slowly, ensuring it’s just tight enough to restrict movement. it’s a methodical and precise act. “you’ll stay still. you can handle this, can you not?"

•borderline sadistic during intercourse with you. overstimulation is a guarantee— his tentacles cuffing your wrists together as you squirm on the silk of his bedding. relentless. your breaths heave in desperation as his thumb circled your clit for what felt like hellish hours on end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes that he brushes away with little care- only after they'd began to trail down your cheeks.

•fingers that linger: when he’s guiding you through a task, his fingers press against the soft skin of your wrist, sending shivers up your spine. it’s a constant reminder of his dominance and the way he can bend you to his will with little effort. sits you between his legs and has you ride his fingers, kissing the flat surface of your inner wrist.

•silent manipulation: whether you’re walking or sitting, his hands will often find their way to your wrists. the way his fingers curl around them feels almost hypnotic, leaving you unsure if it’s affection or an underlying threat.

ticci toby

•possessive grip: toby's hands will find their way to your chest, casually gripping them as if it's the most casual thing in the world. he's not gentle, but not rough either— just firm enough to feel like he's marking his territory. "i like having you close. ganz in der nähe" the words may seem innocent enough, but they are the furthest thing from it.

•soft, but intense. if you're in his arms, he'll keep you pressed against him, his hands roaming under your clothes to gently feel and play with you. his breaths hitch as he does, clearly enjoying the closeness more than anything. not being able to feel much- it's intriguing for him to see how you react to something he assumed would feel so insignificant.

•when he figured out you enjoy it- quite a bit, he'll find himself stroking your ribs more often, tracing over your collarbone.

•huffs of approval: when he feels the soft weight of your breasts in his hands, you'll hear him let out a pleased sigh, followed by a low chuckle. "you can't help making these noises when i touch you, hm?" he enjoys them, thoroughly. in fact, it's something he favors, doing whatever he can to pry the sweet sounds from your lips.

•missionary— classical. he's got your back pinned to the bed, one arm wrapped around your spine as he lay a series of open-mouthed kisses to your throat, trailing down to find one of the pebbled nipples of your breasts. the sound of your breathy moan is almost enough to make him brick up again, a low groan leaving his throat as his lips engulfed your tit with gluttony. he could worship you like this for hours- but not without his own share of enjoyment.

•light teasing: if you react to him touching you, even just a little, his grin widens. "i know you like it. you don't need to hide it." he'll lean in close, letting his breath ghost over your neck. there's nothing he enjoys more than getting a reaction out of you— and it severely agitates him when you silence yourself.

•insecure softness: as unhinged as he may seem, he can get a little soft about it, too. "i just... i need you close, okay? don't push me away." he's not one to beg, but there's something desperate in his voice when he holds you like this. loves having you against his chest, feeling your bare skin pressed against his own.

[teratosubmission]

 Humanfucker here, Humans are the most underrated Monsters

I’ve always had a thing for humans. I mean, there’s a lot of physical appeal to them. They’re small and cute and have beautiful contours and big personalities but you can just overpower them at any time and rail the cuteness out of them and fuuuuck. But there’s much more to a human that I think goes underappreciated with fellow humanfuckers and the larger monsterfucker community at large.

A human has hands, soft and dexterous. It’s said that their sense of touch Is massively amplified on their fingertips. And humans are exceptionally skilled at the soft touch (They have a lot words for soft touch in their language, like stroke, pet, caress, ect, which only make sense when you realize how important it is in their culture). A slow, gentle trace down your spine or up your legs can activate nerve receptors other monsters simply cannot, and it can feel extremely pleasurable when a human is behind you gently rubbing their hands over your back. While many monsters use their strength to keep their mates from leaving, humans often rely on their soft touch, which feels so overwhelmingly pleasurable you don’t -want- to leave. If you ever wondered how a small human can wrangle such giant monsters like minotaurs or werewolves, that’s how.

And the reverse is also true, humans are the most physically sensitive creatures, with the majority of their body being highly erogenous zones. It’s as if they were evolved for lovemaking, and entire subcultures exist around the concept of sex. (EDIT – so I did some research and apparently many humans are skilled enough to practice an erotic art called Massage (muh sahj), and apparently their hands can have healing qualities to them, soothing your aching muscles and overall just feeling really fucking good. Unfortunately its best done on their own kind, since they know their own biology and are basically built to enjoy it best, but I’m hopeful there are humans that are learning on other monsters and getting good at Massage for them… God I hope so, anyway, I want to experience Massage.)

I love their voices. A human, in my opinion, has some of the most beautiful noises you could ever have the pleasure of listening to. You could be engaged in conversation with one and find yourself lulling to the beauty of their voice. You could be fucking one and listening to how cutely they moan and whimper, it functions like an aphrodisiac for their partners. Apparently they don’t actually have persuasive superpowers in sex, but I don’t think that’s right, since every time they’ve moaned for me to cum for them, I’ve burst immediately.

Unlike most monsters, humans don’t have a breeding season. They’re ready to go at any time (sometimes they may need coaxing though~, I’ll link some guides on seducing humans). Now, if you want to actually breed one of the females you’ll have to understand a bit more about their cycles, but generally speaking you can just have at it till they’re eventually impregnated.

Humans have sexual dimorphism like most other monsters, but what’s intriguing is just how wide a range that dimorphism is, and how easily its defied as well. Want a male with feminine features? An exceptionally strong masculine female? Value something in between? Or perhaps you want a gender with the opposite genitalia? There’s something for everyone, which in turn makes them one of the most accessible and popular monsters available. But like I’ve said before, there’s so much more to them than their physique.

❤️ Anyway, humans are the best monsters and I hope someday to meet one! ❤️

[natalievoncatte]

This was going to happen; it was inevitable the moment that Lena chose this course and began preparing to enact the plan. The timing was the mystery, the where and when. Thinking back on it later, she should have known better. Supergirl liked dramatic entrances, and she liked having Lena to herself when she talked. Surprisingly for someone who flew around in primary colors and smiled cheerfully for the cameras, she knew how to be discreet.

There was a double thud as the stacked heels of Supergirl’s boots touched down on the balcony behind her. Lena didn’t look up from her work. Not for the first time, she wondered if Supergirl used her super-senses to read other people. Lena’s heart sped up when she heard the landing and her breath caught, but she remained calm and smooth when she spoke.

“You may as well come in. We’re on the ninety-sixth floor. I don’t bother locking it.”

The glass door slid quietly on oiled plastic runners, and a gust of chilly night air rolled over Lena’s shoulders, causing her ponytail to slide from its place and dangle down her back. She’d changed earlier out of her power suit and exchanged her tight high ponytail for a loose, comfortable one. She was planning an an all-nighter.

“You should lock the door. There are dangerous people out there. Among other things.”

“If any of them have it in for me, they’re not going to be slowed down much by the balcony door, Supergirl.”

There was a soft sigh behind her. “We need to talk.”

Lena smirked. “Why is that? Are you worried my new car saving machine will pull all the cats out of the trees and out you out of work? I’m still working out all the kinks.”

“Miss Luthor…”

“Speaking of kinks, maybe you could help me out. I’ve got a terrible crick in my neck and could use a super-neck rub.”

“Miss Luthor,”

“Or if you’re not busy, you could run and grab us some takeout. I’m thinking Thai, how about you?”

“Lena!”

Sighing, she turned around, tearing her attention from her work. Supergirl had her arms folded, displaying those impressive muscles of hers, and was looking at Lena with an expression of stern concern, something soft and a little worried in her eyes.

“What’s the occasion, then? Let me guess, someone wants to assassinate me.”

Supergirl sighed and let her arms fall. “You need to take this seriously. Right now, I’m the only friend you’ve got.”

“And why is that?”

Supergirl edged closer, her cape swirling slightly behind her. She put a hand on Lena’s desk and leaned over her.

“Because you’re been buying up every ounce of Kryptonite you can find.”

Her pulse began to race and she fought the urge to sink back from the piercing blue eyes that stared into hers.

“That’s not possible. Your cousin destroyed it all.”

“Not all of it,” said Supergirl. “The DEO keeps some, and there’s some floating around on the black market, usually mistaken for something else.”

“What makes you think that I didn’t just stumble across some? I inherited an extensive collection of art and sculpture, Supergirl, and I’m always adding to it. Ask Kara Danvers. I’m going to display the bulk of the family collection in a new wing at the city museum.”

“Because the DEO identified and tracked dozens of pieces, including the ones you bought,” Supergirl said, quietly. “It’s a way for us to identify threats and see who’s trafficking in it. You moved them through shell companies and had them smuggled through customs. You’re hiding something.”

Lena pushed to her feet, indignant, leaning into the do confrontation. She stabbed a manicured nail into the center of Supergirl’s chest, right into her big S.

“So now you come storming into my office making accusations?”

Supergirl planted her fists on her hips and stood over Lena, glaring down at her.

“I’m on your side. I’m the only one keeping the DEO from arresting you. I want to believe that there’s a benign reason for this, Lena. But you have to give me one. People think you’re a threat.”

Lena stared back at her, studying her features, her expression.

“It won’t do any good to tell you. Your superiors won’t believe me. They’ve been trying to entrap me ever since I took over the company.”

“They’re not my superiors,” Kara snapped. “I work with them. They have resources and support I need.”

Lena crossed her arms and cocked her head. “They also have Kryptonite. You just admitted that.”

“Lena,” Supergirl snapped.

Quickly, she grabbed a random page from her notes and scribbled, are they listening?

Supergirl looked at it briefly, then at Lena, weighing her options.

Then she nodded.

Lena scrawled on the sheet.

I’m making a cure.

Supergirl started, flinching as she read the note. She blinked almost comically.

Can we talk without anyone listening in? Lena wrote.

Supergirl nodded, taking the paper. She slipped the pen out of Lena’s grasp and scrawled, give me five minutes.

“Fine,” said Lena. “Tell your people they can call a judge. I’m sure they’ll have all the proper papers and warrants and court orders and it will all be nice and legal.”

“I don’t want it to be this way,” said Supergirl. “I want to work together with you. I believe in you, Lena.”

“You have a hell of a way of showing it.”

Supergirl huffed, turned, and headed for the balcony, taking off with such force that Lena stumbled back a few steps.

Lena waited, finally moving towards the door to close it, when a folded paper airplane sailed through the opening and came to rest on her desk. She closed the balcony door and grabbed the paper, quickly unfolding it.

They can track my suit. Meet me at the Big Belly on 49th. Leave your phone. Walk. Don’t worry about your safety, I’ll be watching. I’ll be in civilian clothes.

Lena crumpled the note in her pocket. The place Suoergirl meant was a half an hour walk, and Lena was more than a little nervous about walking it at night. So, she grabbed her .357 from her desk drawer and stuffed it in the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie, and took her private elevator to the ground floor.

When she walked up on the Big Belly, it was of course closed, dark inside with the chairs up on the tables. Lena tensed when she saw a figure approaching in the dark, much like she was, in joggers and a hoodie.

She relaxed when she saw Kara Danvers hiding in that hood. When they crossed paths, Lena stopped and began walking beside her.

“Supergirl said she would meet me herself,” said Lena. “I’m kind of surprised she sent you, Kara.”

“Keep your voice down,” Kara said, softly. “Follow me.”

Kara led her on a trek through downtown, making Lena rather nervous. This part of the city emptied out after hours and it was close to three in the morning, and they were walking alone on empty streets, finally turning off down an alley between two seemingly random buildings.

There, Kara stopped, and sighed.

“Can you really do it? Can you cure Kryptonite poisoning?”

“Yes,” Lena said, excited. “I think I can. I’m very close. I needed the samples I procured so that I could perfect the process.”

Kara’s shoulders hitched a little. She faced away from Lena, and took a step towards the brick wall in front of her.

“They have a device that your brother created. It can disperse Kryptonite through the entire atmosphere in a few minutes.”

“I’m familiar with it.”

“It’s how they control me. I don’t know where they keep it, only that they have it. If I step out of line, they’ll poison the atmosphere and kill me.”

“Kill you? Kara what are you talking about? You’re not…”

“I told you I’d meet you in civilian clothes. When I wrote the note in your office.”

Lena stumbled back a step, trying to process what she just heard. Kara was talking as if…

She turned around, facing Lena, and stood to her full height, removing her glasses without sweeping back her hood, and met Lena’s gaze.

“But… you’re…”

“Hush,” Kara said, softly. “I’ll explain everything. Right now we need to move and move fast, before they figure out what I’m up to. How fast can you finish your cure?”

“I need a few days and some things from my lab.”

Kara brought her wrist up and spoke into a hidden radio. “Alex, get ready to move. We’ll need to get to Lena’s lab before the DEO does.”

Lena blinked a few times. What the hell was going on?

“I need to get you someplace safe, then I’ll get you up to speed,” said Kara. “Will you come with me?”

Lena’s heart pounded in her chest. “Where?”

“Safety. I promise, I’ll keep you safe. You’re too dangerous to the DEO, Lena. They’re going to move on you, and I had to beg to give you a chance. Tomorrow someone is going to come make you an offer you can’t refuse, and I’m not going to let that happen.”

Lena nodded.

“Alright then. I’m with you. Let’s go.”

Kara nodded.

“Good. Lena Luthor, welcome to the Justice League.”

I had a weird urge to play with the idea of a world where the DEO are a black ops unit that controls Supergirl with the threat of Kryptonite and Lena helps her take them down and save the world. Of course Kara has to be all dramatic about naming the resistance movement.

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 27/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Hi guys 🥰 It's been a week since I posted part 25. I really don't have enough time to write for you on time, so I apologize for the long wait 🥺🫂 I hope this part was worth it 🥹 Let me know in the comments ❤️‍🩹

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi, @someoneelse0109, @medstudentlifestyle, @mskookie, @kooccult , @smokinghotstargirl, @curse-of-art @wintaemoonjen (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 25. Gold on the tip of the knife. 

Jungkook walked over to the table. His thoughts were overloaded and he was still there, in the businesses he could never fully detach himself from. He had done too much today. He had gone over the plan for the delivery of the Uranium, talked to the logistics company that would be transporting the Uranium, and decided issues about set up a fake company that would sell depleted uranium to the military. It all took a lot of time, absorbed him, made him keep his mind in constant tension. 

You had been with his mother all day, so he didn't have to constantly apologize for his busy schedule, but even now, when you and your parents were gathered for dinner together, Jungkook left the table every now and then to talk on the phone and take care of important things.

His fingers automatically gripped the phone before he put it away in his jacket pocket. His head was buzzing with endless calculations and plans, but as soon as he look up, all that tension gave way to something deeper.

You. 

He looked at you and didn't like the way you looked. He saw you trying to smile and make conversation with your parents, but you were doing it for strength and he could see it.

Tomorrow, when you get back to Seoul, he will take you to the doctor right away. Most likely, it's overwork from work and studies. He told you to quit that job, but you're stubborn. You made a promise to someone. That's ridiculous. Why are you so righteous? But if the doctor confirms that you're exhausted, he'll go and fire you from that store himself. 

Jungkook sat down slowly, not taking his eyes off you. You gave him a quick glance and looked away. You didn't even smile at him. Are you annoyed that he's always leaving because of calls? Or is it because he's having a busy day? 

Jungkook looked at your plate. It was almost clean. And the panjang you had bitten once remained lonely on the round plate, obviously never to be finished at all. There was a lot of food on the table: baked fish in ginger sauce, kimchi, several types of panjon, beef soup stewed in spicy herbs, rice with chestnuts, and, of course, makkoli. You helped his mother prepare all these dishes, but you barely ate any of them. 

His fingers involuntarily gripped the edge of the table. When your mothers switched to discussing a recipe and your fathers left the table, Jungkook leaned over to you. 

"You're not eating anything." - His voice sounded calm, but there was a hidden anxiety in it. You barely looked up and forced a smile.

"I'm just not really hungry. I had time to taste everything while we were cooking with the omony." - You answered, adjusting your plate. Jungkook didn't believe you.

He saw how you could barely hide your fatigue. He saw how your eyes were a little cloudy. He had noticed this for days, but you kept insisting that everything was fine. He was irritated by your self-sacrifice for no one in particular. 

"Do you feel bad now?" - He asked, still quietly, but insistently, so that the mother would not hear. 

"No, I'm fine." - You said seriously. He saw that you were tense. He is annoyed leaned away from you. He touched the glass from which he was drinking the juice, and just started spinning it. Jungkook ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, holding back the urge to yell at you. He was annoyed by everything today, but he couldn't snap at you. 

Suddenly, you stood up from the table. Jungkook watched you stand up, pushing the chair back with a slight movement. Your fingers touched the fabric of your dress briefly, as if you wanted to tidy it up, but he knew it was a habit when you were nervous or trying to hide something from him. 

You said something about being right back, but didn't look at him. This alerted him. 

"Son, between you everything okay?" - Jungkook heard his mother's voice. He turned his head toward her and met two pairs of concerned eyes. His and your mothers were waiting intently for an answer. 

"Yes, mom, everything fine." - Jungkook says, and he doesn't believe his words. Of course nothing is fine. Why would you be sick? "But I'm going to go check for sure."

Jungkook wants to get up from the table, but the phone rings. 

Shit. His fingers tightened around the device, and he pulled it out of pocket, glancing at the screen. An unfamiliar number. The mothers watched with the same concern. 

"Excuse me." - He says briefly and walks into the kitchen. Behind the kitchen in Jungkook's parents' house was a closed terrace. He goes there so that no one can hear his conversation. All day long, he hasn't been contacted about the direct delivery of uranium, and maybe this is the that call. On his way terrace, Chonguk picks up the phone. 

"Yes?" - His voice is unwavering. 

"Jeon Jungkook-shi?" - He hears a man's voice on the other end of the line. 

"Who is this?" - He doesn't answer, but instead asks his own question. 

"My name is Lee Hyuwon, I'm a transportation agent. I was given your number. They told me to contact you about a delivery." - The voice on the phone was low and steady, as if the man was talking about something mundane. Jungkook tensed slightly, looking out the window at the dark sky. His fingers tightened their grip on the phone. 

"What kind of delivery?" - He asked, just to be sure. 

"The cargo you're interested in." - He answers meekly. Uranium. But must be a code word. If he says it, this is exactly the man he needs. Jungkook is silent for a moment, staring at the reflection of his face in the glass of the terrace.

"I see." - He finally answered, keeping his voice calm and businesslike. "Who gave you my contact?"

"Mutual acquaintances." - The man answered without giving specifics. Jungkook was on the alert.

"Did they give you the details?" - Jungkook asked. 

"The highlights. The cargo is special, requires care, and needs to be delivered on time." - Lee Hyuwon says seriously. 

"Okay, but..." - Jungkook wanted to ask about the code word, but he was interrupted by the man on the other side of the line. 

"Jeon Jungkook-shi, I have some samples with me that you could inspect, so if you have time we could meet." - The carrier offers. 

"Samples?" - Jungkook asks again. No one said there would be samples, and that he should check them. "I have no information about that."

The man on the other end of the phone falls silent and hums into the receiver. 

"That's strange. That's why I had to contact you, to arrange the delivery and for you to look at the samples." - The man says. Jungkook raises his eyebrows. This is really strange. 

"I need to know out more information. Besides, I'm not in Seoul, so there's no way I can meet you today." - Jungkook says, already planning to call Jimin. 

"Oh. Yes, sir. I really don't understand why this happened. However, I don't know if my boss not will be happy that the meeting won't take place soon. I also don't think he'll be happy with the fact that you didn't know about the samples..." - The man says. Jungkook tenses up more. He clutches the phone in his hand as if he wants to smash it. He's been in trouble all day, and he doesn't need Namjoon to get angry because Jimin or Hoseok didn't give him any information. He exhales into the phone, he needs to make an appointment for tomorrow morning. But before Jungkook can say anything, the carrier continues. "In any case, let's coordinate with each other on what time we can meet. Because the cargo is not in Seoul, but in Suwon, you'll need to come in person." 

Jungkook freezes. In Suwon? What a coincidence. Perhaps it's fate smiling down on him. Because if he can come now and look at the samples and discuss all the details about the uranium (its quantity and payment), Namjoon will be satisfied. He hasn't told anyone that he's going to visit his parents in Suwon with you. So it may be for the best that he is here. 

"Are you saying the cargo is in Suwon? Where is the warehouse?" - Jungkook asks. 

"On the outskirts of town. It's an industrial warehouse on Gyeonggi-ro. I'll send you the location via geolocation." - The driver replies. 

"I'm not far away. I can get to the warehouse within 30 minutes." - Jungkook offers. He runs his hand over his chin, waiting for a response. 

"How nice to do business with you. It's so good that you are here. Then our bosses won't have to worry. Right? I'll be waiting for you in thirty minutes. I'll reset the geolocation in just a minute." - The man says flatteringly. Jungkook responds "waiting" and disconnects the call. He stood there for a few seconds, staring at the black screen of his phone, analyzing the conversation.

Everything sounded like it was really the person who was supposed to contact him. But why hadn't he been warned about the samples he was supposed to examine? Besides, he didn't know how he was supposed to do it properly. He's learned some of the information he needs about Uranium, but he's definitely not an expert to evaluate the product. Maybe samples to know what the actual product will look like? That's weird. It's very weird. 

Jungkook dials Jimin's phone. He doesn't pick up. Then he dials Hoseok’s phone. There are several rings and the call is dropped. Damn it. He'll call back on the way to the warehouse. 

Jungkook turns around and walks to the door leading to the kitchen. He needs to go to the table and tell everyone that he's going to be gone for an hour. But before that, he needs to find you. 

Jungkook opened the door and literally ran into you. You were standing under the door, looking at him in fright. He froze, just like you. You wanted to leave, but he grabbed you by the arm and pushed you out of the kitchen and onto the terrace. You gasped at the sudden movement. Jungkook pushed you against the wall, locking the door. 

"Did you really do that? Are you eavesdropping?" - Jungkook asks, hovering over you. He can feel the irritation getting the better of him. You don't need to know what you're not supposed to know. You stand against the wall, pale and tired. But your gaze is determined and shows no weakness at all. 

You didn't answer him right away. He saw you trying to collect your thoughts, as if you were looking for the right words.

"I accidentally..." - You say confidently, but Jungkook interrupts you unceremoniously. He doesn't want you to know anything. 

"What did you hear?" - He asks a bit abruptly, which makes you raise your eyebrows slightly. He doesn't want to push, but he needs to know what you heard. You put your hands on his chest and want to push him away. But it makes Jungkook angry, he's not in the best mood today, so he's loses his temper easily. And even you are starting to make him angry. Your curiosity and stubbornness can backfire on you. You're up to your old tricks, and he has to be more careful this time because dealing with uranium is too dangerous.

"Let go of me." - You say, and he pressing your body against the wall. The wall is cold and Jungkook is worried that it might worse you, because you are already unwell. But he can't let go of you until you tell him what you heard. Your palms on his chest, giving him warmth, but your eyes are angry. 

"Tell me." - He says shortly. You stare at each other, your eyes drilling into each other. Right now you don't look like a couple in love, but rather like people who won't give in for anything. 

"I didn't hear much." - You say dryly. 

"I'm not asking how much, I'm asking what did you hear?" - Jungkook insists. His voice is demanding, but not harsh. Again, you just stare at him angrily. Jungkook is late for the meeting, so you have to speak up. 

"I heard you were going to leave. And that it was some about the samples." - You finally answer. Jungkook clenches his jaw. So it's almost nothing. But he needs to make sure that's all you heard. He brings his face closer to yours. 

"Are you sure that's all you heard? Because if you lied to me..." - Jungkook says quietly. You raise your eyebrows skeptically. 

"So what?" - You ask confidently. Jungkook bites his lip, and you can't miss the movement. He laughs when he sees you following his lips. 

"Baby, you better not try to find out. You don't need it. So just tell me everything you heard." - He says with a shadow of a smile on his lips, but it quickly disappears when he looks back into your eyes. "I don't like being followed, especially by you." 

"I told you everything I heard." - You say harshly. Your hand presses down on his chest again, leaving even more heat. Jungkook gets upset when you add. "Don't talk with me like this. I'm not your client, the one you're beating information out of. I overheard your conversation because I was looking for you. I'm not spying on you."

He holds his breath, as if for a moment he realizes that you are telling the truth, that he shouldn't be talking to you like this, but he's not ready to let go of the situation. He knows that you could have heard everything, but for some reason you don't tell him anything. 

He pressed himself against you as much as possible, so that his chest was now touching yours. One of his hands rested on the wall near your head at eye level, and the other clenched your jaw. His lips touched your cheek. 

"Everything is so fucking annoying today, and you're not helping. You walk around pale, eat nothing, and eavesdrop. Do you think I should hold back now, or should I let go of everything that's been building up?" - Jungkook's voice sounds tense and heavy. You can feel his heart beating in time with yours, but he doesn't let himself relax completely. His hand on your jaw tightens, and his breath is heavy and hot, close to your ear.

"Jungkook..." - Your voice is quiet but determined. You try to keep it calm, even though your heart is beating faster from what's happening. You don't want him to understand your emotions, your uncertainty. But he notices it anyway.

He touches your cheek again, gently, but still with a hint of control. 

"Are you forgetting who I am? It's not my fault that you have some problems. We went to parents' house, and you're on that fucking phone all the time, and you're going to go somewhere at this hour." - You say irritated. You try to pull away, but he won't let go of you. His eyes are dark, and his anger and irritation are evident in every movement.

"That's why you're angry with me, I can see that. But honey, I really have a lot of work to do, and it can't wait." - He says softer. 

"Of course it can’t. But I'll wait, right? You can do whatever you want and go all the four sides of the world." - You say colorlessly. Jungkook was torn inside. You really angry. He holds his breath when he hears your cold response. His hand on your jaw tightens, his fingers gripping your chin so hard you feel slight pain. His eyes burn you, but he doesn't let go. There is bitterness in your words, and he cannot lose control again.

"You tell me not to talk to you rudely, but watch how you talk, baby. I'll go all four ways if it's with you." - His voice becomes deeper, almost hostile. He leans in closer, so that his breath touches your lips, and he are already reaching for your lips gently but insistently. You rest your hands against his chest, not letting him kiss you. 

"I don't want you to kiss me right now." - You say even more harshly. He stops just a centimeter away.

"But I want to." - Jungkook says, unrestrained. "I haven't kissed you all day." 

You snort, and it sounds mocking. 

"Have you noticed? Don't kiss me when you're acting like this. Your work is none of my business. I didn't lie to you, I told you what I heard. That's it. Let me go now." - You say threateningly. Jungkook sees how angry you are, but he can't let you go. He really can't. He wants to kiss you. Even more, he wants to fuck you, but wonder if he should? Your parents might notice that you've been gone for a long time, and he's late for a meeting. 

Jungkook suddenly leans down and captures your lips. Unexpectedly, you scream softly into his lips. You didn't close your eyes when he kissed you. You try to push him away, but your boyfriend is a rock. He kisses you, a hot, eager kiss that makes your heart beat faster. 

You involuntarily feel all your control dissipate. But you don't want to give up, you don't want to show how you going weakness in front of him as soon as he kisses you so passionately. So you sharply push him away from you, trying to give yourself some space. 

"Are you deaf, Jeon? I told you not to touch me!" - You almost shout. Your voice is filled with anger. 

Jungkook smiles. He doesn't even let you take a step back. He comes closer again, pushes you against the wall again, his body literally engulfing yours. You can feel his heart beating in time with yours, but his hands on your hips no longer resemble control - they own you, stubbornly trying to make you submit. 

"Come on, my baby. You want it too." - He says boldly and his lips find yours again, this kiss even more impatient, thirsty. He wants your commitment, he wants your attention, he wants you to stop fighting him.

You can't let it go that easily. You respond to his kiss, at first with a little resistance, but then your hand involuntarily stops at his neck, pulling him even closer. Your bodies touch, and you feel all the bitterness that has accumulated between you, but at this moment you want nothing more than to give yourself to him completely.

Jungkook sees you giving in and breaks the kiss and looks at you, his eyes burning with desire. 

"See? I know you." - He slips his hand under your sweater, slides it easily over the top you're wearing instead of a bra. When he squeezes your breasts slowly and with some force, you hold back a moan. He looks into your eyes, radiating cunning. 

"It pisses off..." - You say, exhaling. Jungkook pulls your sweater and top up over your breasts and presses his lips to one of your breasts. As his tongue sucks in your flesh, you hold back a scream of pain. Jungkook tastes your nipple so good. But he wants to feel how wet you are. When he ignores your words and kisses your nipple, he reaches down to your leggings and easily gets under your underwear. 

Jungkook pulls away from your nipple and, breathing heavily because he's aroused, approaches your flushed face. A moan escapes your lips as he massages your clit. Fuck, you're so wet for him, he could enter you so easily. 

"So what were you saying? What's pissing you off?" - Jungkook asks demandingly, subjecting you to sweet torture. He kisses your jawline, and you try to say.

"It pisses off... that you..." - You are completely unable to speak because Jungkook has entered you with his fingers and is fucking you with them. He stretch up the fabric of your leggings so that his hand has a comfortable position. 

Your legs give out and you can't stand. Jungkook is amused by your reaction. You look so sexy. Red, with your hair tousled, your eyes closed in pleasure. He leans down to kiss you. He puts his tongue in your mouth and you willingly accept it. And you return the kiss more than willingly, making him even more excited. Jungkook parted your lips and whispered without pulling away. 

"Do I piss you off?" - He tries to find out. His fingers continue to fuck you. 

"Mhhh." - You moan at his actions. "Not you. But that you turn our fights into fucking." - You finally say it. Jungkook laughs lightly. 

"I never believe that you don't like it." - He says defiantly. "Besides, we didn't fight. We just argued a little." - You can't react because Jungkook has moved to your clit again. You're about to come. 

"I... I don't like..." - You want to object, but you come on Jungkook's fingers. He feels your clit twitch and he presses lightly on it, extending your orgasm. You moan, feeling blissful. God, your parents are at the table, and you, or rather Jungkook, is does this with you. He's smiling, happy to have made you come. You try your best to fill your lungs with air.

Jungkook's hard length presses into your thigh. You cast a quick glance between your bodies, and when you return it, you meet your boyfriend's lustful eyes. 

"I want to fuck you, my love." - Jungkook says. 

"But we've been gone long enough. Our parents will be looking for us." - You warn. But Jungkook has already turned your back to him and removed your leggings in one motion, along with your underwear. He admired your naked ass for a moment, and then leaned over to you, pressing you against the wall. You put your arms at wall for something to hold on to. 

"They won't look for us, because they know I went to comfort you." - Jungkook mockingly said the last word. "How do you like my consolation? Huh, baby?" - He asks in your ear. He takes off his pants and boxers and his warm, hard cock hits your buttocks. It takes him a matter of seconds to find your passage and insert his erect cock into it. You're wet, and Jungkook can feel it with his tip. 

"Kook..." - You call out to your boyfriend, who is already plunging into you. At the beginning, you feel a slight pain, and the way Jungkook is in a hurry. You press your fingers against the wall until they turn white. 

Jungkook heard your soft cries and slowed down, and he plunged more slowly the rest of the way. He moved away from your ear and stood up straighter. He took his hands on both sides of your hips to better control his movements. Jungkook squeezed in out of your passage as much as possible and you moaned. He couldn't hold back his moan either. That beautiful pussy took him well, as always. 

Jungkook leaned down to your ear. 

"Does it feel good, love?" - He asks in a caring, gentle voice. He's still worried that you're not feeling well. 

"Yes." - You assure him, turning your head to him. "Very well." - Your voice sounds like a confession. Jungkook kisses shoulder and then straightens up. He strokes your thighs as if to soothe you. 

"Be quiet, my baby." - He asks, and then begins to fuck your cunt rhythmically. It feels divine as always. Your tight pussy wraps around his cock so tightly. Jungkook fucks you every day, but he's never satisfied. What have you done to them? How do you make him want you so easily?

Jungkook has never felt this way about anyone before. He can't understand what's happening to him. He's never enough. It's like you're destroying all his reasonable boundaries by making him want you more and more. 

How do you so easily overcome his emotionally controlled emotions? How do you seem to be able to make him forget everything else with simple words or gestures? You are not like everyone else. "I'm never enough," is the thought in his head again, and he can't push it out. He doesn't even want to. With you, he always need more. 

You have broken down his walls. And he feels you in a way he hasn't felt anyone before. You are his addiction.

Jungkook fucks you fast and deep, he doesn't have time to stretch out the pleasure. You moan softly, your head tilted down. Jungkook grabs your chest and holds you close. You reflexively put your hands on his, squeezing his it. 

"Where do you want me to cuming? Inside? Or maybe in your mouth?" - He asks, sounding bass in your ear. You moan, his cock inside you, his suggestions, and his hands massaging your breasts. 

"Wherever you want." - You answer, not quite soberly evaluating Jungkook's words. Jungkook smiles with satisfaction. He turns your head and kisses you, deeply, hotly. 

He leans you against the wall and speeds up the movement. You moan with every movement. The friction inside takes you to heaven. After a moment, you squeeze Jungkook's cock with your walls, you come around his cock. Jungkook can barely keep from cumming. He stops abruptly and comes out of you. He turns you toward.

"Get on your knees, love." - He asks. You kneel down, still feeling the waves of your orgasm. Jungkook takes a step towards you and you immediately open your mouth. His length is halfway in, and you start sucking him off. You don't have to do this for long, because Jungkook is about to come. His hard cock is in your mouth. You can taste the salty taste of his and your own cum. 

You pump your head, sucking his hot cock. Jungkook curls his hand around your hair and moves your head. His velvety tip is dangerously on the bottom of your tongue. 

Jungkook hardens even more. Your lips look so good on his cock. He can't hold back any longer. He gets hard as a rock and then he cums on your tongue. You swallow every last drop. He moans above your head, throwing it back. He looks down at you, admiring your position. 

Jungkook stops moving his hips when he's completely softened. He gently withdraws from your warm, welcoming mouth, his cock. A ribbon of your saliva and his cum trailing his cock from your lips. You smile at him. He smiles back at you. 

Jungkook gently helps you off your knees and kisses your lips. Lightly, almost without weight. He puts on his boxers, pulls on his pants, and even manages to dress you. 

"Don't be mad at me." - Jungkook asks, hugging you and putting his forehead against yours. "I'm going to go to a meeting in a little while and we'll talk afterwards, okay?" 

You smile. You feel better than you did before sex with Jungkook, even if it did take some energy. You're even hungry. You pull away from his forehead. 

"It's okay. I won't be angry. How can I be angry after all these?" - You joke. Jungkook laughs heartily. 

"That was the plan from the beginning." - Jungkook jokes back. "I'll only be an hour, maybe less." 

Kongi-ro, 8:17 p.m.

The black Hyundai Palisade came to an abrupt stop at the entrance to the large warehouse. Jungkook took his father's car so he wouldn't have to use his own. On the way to the warehouse, he called Jimin and Hoseok several times, but no one answered. What the hell were they doing? 

Jungkook is almost twenty minutes late because he fucked you on the terrace. This sex helped him partially relieve the tension he had been feeling all day because of organizing the uranium delivery. 

However, his muscles are tensing again, but he is calm. He turned off the engine and turned off the headlights. At the entrance to the large warehouse, a group of men stand, cars and several minivans lined up along the side. 

He got out of the car, glancing at the tall, thin figure of a man in a black coat standing in the center. His eyes glittered coldly in the semi-darkness, and he wore a slight smile on his face, as if he knew Jungkook would be there, despite his lateness.

"Jungkook-shi." - Lee Hyuwon was the first to respond, as if they had known each other for years. "You're late, but I'm still glad you came." 

Jungkook looks around at the people around him. He didn't expect so many people. But these people are allies, he doesn't worry about them harming him. 

"I got into a little traffic jam. I apologize." - He says, shaking hands with a man who introduced himself as Lee Hyuwon. 

"Oh, it happens sometimes." - Hyuwon says in a friendly manner. They fell silent and Jungkook felt an inner discomfort. He cast a few glances around and turned to the man who had made the appointment. 

"So where's the cargo?" - Jungkook asked. It was suspicious that Seongwan was taking his time.

"It's inside." - Hyuwon says meekly. "Please follow me." - The skinny man turned around and walked toward the entrance of a tall metal structure. Jungkook followed after Hyuwon, taking a closer look at everything around him. It was quite dark inside the warehouse, with only a few neon lights creating dim illumination. The air smelled like oil, iron, and something else... Jungkook knew the smell for sure - gunpowder.

His heart beat faster for a moment, but he remained outwardly unmoved. Long wooden crates were stacked on top of each other, and some of them had plastic wrappers sticking out. Hyuwon slowly walked over to one of them and tapped the lid with his fingers.

"Here is the product. I'm sure you'll like it." - The man's voice was excited with joy. Jungkook raised his eyebrows. He took a few steps forward, as if curiously evaluating the goods. One of Hyuwon's men opened the crate, and what he saw was not nuclear material, but precision weapons. 

Heavy semi-automatic rifles, with perfectly polished black bodies, lay neatly in a row.

"These are weapons." - Jungkook says, more to himself than to the others. 

"Yes. Good weapons that are highly accurate and of excellent quality. I've been assured that this is the kind of weapon you use." - Hyuwon confirmed. Jungkook thinks. This is not Uranus. So this meeting is not what he expected. Where the hell did this man come from and why did he think he needed a guns? 

Before the new year, Jungkook bought a new weapons, he doesn't need it. He looks at the boxes and then turns to Hyuwon. 

"Who gave you my contact remind me again?" - Jungkook asks demandingly. Hyuwon is visibly nervous, but he tries to hide it behind a smile, but Jungkook sees through it. 

"Takeshi Tanaka, you worked with him. He mentioned you and said you'd be interested." - Hyuwon says, putting confidence in his voice. Jungkook doesn't remember the name. But they're actively working with the Japanese mafia, so he could have just forgotten. "This is an exclusive, Jungkook-shi. Great guns, great price. Take a closer look, you can hold it in your hands, evaluate the balance." - Hyuwon offers. Hyuwon looks at the weapon and then at the man in front of him. 

"I don't need this weapon. And I don't know why Tananki thought I'd buy it from you." - Jungkook says businesslike. Hyuwon doesn't look upset. But his eyes have narrowed slightly, and he doesn't look as friendly anymore.

"You didn't even consider the offer." - He said coldly. 

"Because I'm not interested." - Jungkook replied indifferently. The people accompanying Hyuwon visibly tensed up. He held the man's gaze, demonstrating his position. Hyuwon smiled, slowly, almost predatory.

"Well, then, you have no business being here, Jungkook-shi." - He bowed slowly. Hyuwon watched this movement. His intuition told him that something was wrong. Something was wrong with this man and this meeting in general. 

"Obviously." - Jungkook said looking Hyuwon straight in the eye. 

"But I'd advise you to write down my number, I'll give you the best prices and quality product." - He holds out his hand. Jungkook looks at it, but doesn't shake it back. 

"I'll keep that in mind." - Jungkook says. Jungkook took a step back, watching Hyuwon's men stand frozen, waiting for further developments. He no longer had a reason to stay here, and he had to find out who the Japanese man was who was throwing his contacts around.

Jungkook leaves the warehouse. He gets behind the wheel and drives away. He keeps looking in the rearview mirror. He can't help but think that this meeting is strange. Hyuwon let him go so easily, didn't even insist on a deal. 

Jungkook pressed the gas pedal, leaving the warehouse behind. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel, giving off a pent-up tension. Hyuwon was too calm. Too confident. And that Japanese guy... Hell, he was sure he'd never had any business with Takeshi Tanaka.

He dialed Jimin again. The rings went on for a long time, until finally the other end of the line answered.

"Oh, kid, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you call." - Jimin immediately apologized. 

"Where the hell are you that you didn't hear me calling you?" - Jungkook asked, irritated. "Hey, are you going to kill me over the phone?" - Jimin muttered. His voice was filled with background noise-people's voices, music, laughter. "What happened? Why three missed calls?" 

"I needed to know out some information, but I've already did it myself." - Jungkook said seriously. He decided not to talk about the meeting with Hyuwon because Jimin would want to know the details, and he didn't want to say he was in Suwon. When it comes to his parents and you, he hides everything. "Are you at the club?" - Jungkook asks, changing the subject. 

"Yeah. At Muse. We decided to relax with Hoby-hyung. We had a crazy day today." - Jimin says, now it's clear why Hoseok hasn't been answering. Jungkook is also having a crazy day. "Where are you, by the way? Don't you want to come over? Let's have a drink. Or are you busy with more important things?" - Jimin asks slyly, hinting that this “important thing” it’s you.

"Yes, I have more important things to do." - Jungkook replies with a smile. "Give me Hoby-hyung, I want to ask him something." - Jungkook asks, but Jimin doesn't listen. 

"So you two made up?" - Jimin asks. He's the only person (besides Taehyung) who wanted you and Jungkook to get together. Jimin and Taehyung have long suspected you of having feelings, but you two denied it, and now you've there, told your parents you're dating. 

"Yes. Thanks to you, Hyung. I guess I'm forever in your debt." - Jungkook thanked him. Jimin laughs briefly into the phone. 

"Not forever, but you will to do whatever I ask you to do. Let's just keep it a wish." - Jimin suggests. 

"Deal." - Jungkook agrees without hesitation. He will always be grateful to Jimin for arranging their meeting in that café. "Then put Hoseok on the phone." - Jungkook reminds him. He drove out onto the main street to return home. 

"But wait. I'm burning with curiosity. So how did you two start dating? Did you start fucking her, and then you realized you were in love?" - Jimin asks. He makes it sound dumber than it actually was. 

"Why do you think that we started fucking before we started dating?" - Jungkook doesn't answer, but asks his own question.

"It was obvious. The way you were with each other. The sexual tension between you was obvious. You tried so hard to hide it, but you couldn't convince Taehyung and me. Besides, I know you were living together." - Jimin replies. His voice sounds like he's smiling. Jungkook rolls his eyes. 

"Jimin-hyung, you know you're really annoying, right?" - Jungkook said with a smile on his lips. 

"Oh, come on. Just tell me when it happened." - Jimin demands. Jungkook exhales. Still, as much as Jimin is his friend, he will tell the truth if he is so desperate to know. 

"After I meeting with you and Taehyung at the restaurant, when we were eating samgyeopsal." - Jungkook says, feeling a little lighter inside, although he tries not to show it.

Jimin on the other end of the phone instantly freezes. He laughs softly, but with obvious pleasure.

"Ooooh, it’s happening that night! You lied to me that nothing happened between you then. But I didn't believe you. Y/N's so cute when she's drunk, I think that's why you couldn't resist that night." - Jimin thinks out loud. Jungkook clutches the steering wheel. He stops at a traffic light and waits. 

"She wasn't cute. You just don't know her well. She provoked me that day." - Jungkook tells the truth about your first time. Jimin laughs into the phone. 

"Really? She can do that?" - Jimin asks through his laughter. Jungkook smiles too. 

"She can do a lot of things." - Jungkook says, and he thinks it sounds polysemous. 

"I don't even doubt it. So what's she like? Quiet or loud?" - Jimin continues, his voice sounding fiercely interested. Jungkook feels a surge of irritation. He doesn't want to discuss what it's like to be in bed with you, even if it's Jimin.

"Hey man, are you really that naive to think I'd tell you something like that?" - Jungkook asks. 

"I know so much about your sex life. Why can't I know the same about you and Y/N?" - Jimin asks, offended. 

"Because it's Y/N. You won't know what she's like in bed because she's my girlfriend." - Jungkook argues. Jimin snorts into the phone. 

"Oh my God, can you hear that? Jungkook is really in love with his best friend because he's hiding everything about her." - Jimin sighs softly, still joking. 

"Yes, I am head over heels in love with her. That's why I don't like the fact that someone else will know what she's like in bed besides me." - Jungkook says so that the topic can be closed. Jimin realizes this instantly and immediately concedes. 

"I'm glad to hear that, buddy. I'm honestly glad you're in love with Y/N. She's perfect for you and you know I've been shipping you for a long time. I'm sorry if I crossed the line." - Jimin apologizes. Jungkook is silent for a while, feeling the tension ease a bit. His heart is still beating fast with emotion, but Jimin's words somehow calm him down.

"Don't worry, I know you were just kidding." - He says, relaxing his shoulders, but still not letting go of the steering wheel. "It's just... I'm not ready to discuss this with anyone, not even you." - Jungkook says, and moves the car out of the way because the light is green. Jimin laughs briefly. 

"I see. I was really joking. But don't worry, my friend. I can see that you're happy with Y/N, and that's cool."

Jungkook feels his heart lighten, even though he knows they won't talk about it again. 

"She's... she's really important to me. I don't want anyone else to judge her or interfere with what's between us." - Jungkook explains. 

"I understand." - Jimin replies with a serious tone, though you can still hear the support in his voice. "You've known who to choose for a long time. And it's Y/N. Keep it up."

Jungkook feels his heart fill with warmth at his friend's words. He hadn't expected such support, but he realizes deep down that Jimin has always been his rock, even if it seems ironic at first glance.

"Thanks, Hyung." - He says quietly. "So, are you going to let me talking with Hoby-hyung?" - Jungkook reminds me what he wanted. 

"Yeah, I'll put him on the phone right now. Just give me a moment." - Jimin replies. Jungkook waits until he's almost home. Jungkook hears muffled voices on the other end of the phone. Jimin must be saying something to Hoseok, and Hoseok is answering, but Jungkook can't make out the words. He's almost home. A few seconds later, he hears a familiar voice in the phone.

"Hey, little one. What’s up?" - Hoseok asks, sounding cheerful. Jungkook smiles involuntarily. 

"Hi. Hoby-hyung, I have a question for you." - Jungkook says as he parks the car outside the house. 

"Okay, but if it’s some difficult, I'm not in the right state to answer questions like that, right now." - Hoseok laughs. Jungkook laughs back. 

"It won't be a difficult question." - Jungkook turns off his headlights and looks out at the street, lit by streetlamps. "Did we ever work with someone named Takeshi Tanaka?" 

Hoseok is silent, obviously remembering. Jungkook hears him buzzing into the phone and later he hears his voice. 

"It's someone from Japan. I can't remember right away. Why? Who is it?" - Hoseok asks. 

"He might be connected with the supply of weapons. Rifles, grenades, and stuff like that." - Jungkook explained. Hosok is silent again, but only for a moment. 

"Jungkook-ah, I don't remember, but that name sounds familiar. Let me find out more information and let you know. Tomorrow." - He adds quickly. Jungkook sees you coming out of the yard. Jungkook hurries out of the car to come to you. 

"I'd appreciate if you knew something about." - Jungkook says. He blocks the car and walks to meet you. You are wrapped in your jacket and watch him as he arrives. Jungkook comes up to you and immediately hugs you. You can't help but smile lightly and rest your head against his chest. 

"No problem. So should I wait for you or not?" - Hoseok asks. 

"No, Hyung, I'm already home." - Jungkook says half-truthfully, not in a hurry to let go you from embrace. "I'll be waiting for information about this Tanak tomorrow."

"Okay, brother. Get some rest." - Hoseok says, and then adds with a twist in his voice. "Or work hard." 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, though you can't see it.

"Have fun, Hyung." - Jungkook says shortly. He ends the call and puts the phone back in his pocket. You lift your head, looking at him with a bit of curiosity. 

"Is everything okay?" - You ask quietly. Jungkook runs his fingers through your hair and then touches your chin lightly.

"Yes, my love. I'm fine. Why are you here?" - Jungkook asks, smiling and gently touching your nose with his finger.

"I went out to get some fresh air and then I heard you drive up." - You answer. Jungkook lowers to your face. He presses his lips to yours and enjoys the softness of them. 

"Have you been waiting for me?" - He asks, forcing your lips apart. You smile. 

"Maybe." - You answer playfully. Something dangerous but tender flashes in Jungkook's eyes. His lips are still burning from your kiss. Jungkook laughs softly, putting his arms around your waist and gently pulling you closer. He kisses you again, unable to get enough of your lips. 

"You don't even miss me?" - Jungkook asks, pulling away just a centimeter to look into your eyes.

You bite your lip lightly, but he instantly runs his thumb over it, forcing you to let go.

"Maybe." - You repeat teasingly. Jungkook responds to your mockery with a smile.  

"What maybe? You must have meant “yes”" - He says, leaning closer to your ear. His voice is warm, a little husky, and it makes you flinch involuntarily.

"No, I probably meant to say “no”. You were only gone for 30 minutes." - You tease him, hiding your smile. Jungkook tilts his head, looking at you with a sly smile.

"I probably won't believe you." - He whispers and kisses you again, this time slower, deeper, as if he wants to commit this moment to memory. You put your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating faster, even through his jacket.

"Do you want to come in?" - He asks when your lips finally part. "Or do you want to go for a walk?" 

You decided a walk. It's a great opportunity to be together and clear your head. It sounds like you both need it. 

10 days later.

You were sitting in the kitchen, slowly winding a lock of hair around your finger. On the table was a cup of barely warm tea and a plate with a half-eaten cheese and avocado sandwich. You took another bite, but as soon as the cheese touched your tongue, you instantly twitched. Something was wrong. Jungkook that you were talking to on the phone noticed that you had fallen silent. 

"Baby, are you okay?" - He was worried. Wincing, you put the sandwich back on the plate and took a sip of tea to kill the strange aftertaste. But suddenly a strange feeling appeared in your stomach - a heaviness, a slight nausea, like a wave rising from somewhere deep. 

"Shit, I don't think the cheese was very fresh..." - You muttered into the phone, putting the food aside. 

"Don't eat it." - Jungkook said. "Do you want me to come over and we'll have lunch somewhere?" - Jungkook offers. You are not hungry. Your appetite is gone and your nausea is getting worse, so you take the plate and put it in the fridge so you don't even have to look at the food. 

"No, love. I'm not hungry anymore. Don't worry about it. Besides, I have a doctor's appointment at 11 am." - You say. The feeling of unpleasant nausea did not go away. On the contrary, it was getting stronger. You felt a little dizzy. You leaned on the sink, near the fridge. 

"A doctor? Ah yes, you said yesterday, that you have planned a visit to the gynecologist!" - Jungkook recalls. "After that you'll have to make an appointment with a therapist to see you. I've been asking you for a week to check your condition. You didn't just feel bad for no reason." - Jungkook says. So since you came back from your parents' house, Jungkook has been telling you to go to the doctor almost every day. He wanted to take you there himself, but you assured him that you felt better after resting for a few days. It was just fatigue, nothing more. 

"Okay, I'll make an appointment. But later. When I have time. When are you coming?" - You asked, going to get a cup of tea, which you didn't want to finish either. 

"If you don't make an appointment with a doctor this week, I'll tie you and take you there myself, and you won't be able to convince me that you don't need to do it." - Jungkook said seriously, but it made you smile. You laughed into the phone, holding back the terrible nausea and dizziness. Jungkook shouldn’t know that you felt sick again. 

"That sounds so threatening." - You said through your laughter. Jungkook exhaled quietly into the phone.

"I'm serious, baby." - His voice was a little softer, but still sounded harsh. "I don't want you to neglect your health." 

You dumped the tea into the sink and turned away. With each passing second, the nausea became more intrusive, as if your body was trying to tell you something.

"I know, I know... I just have a lot to do." - You put on a smile, hoping he wouldn't notice it in your voice.

"When I coming? I'll be home early tonight. Around 7 or 8 in the evening." - Jungkook recalls your question. You're happy that Jungkook can come early, because he's been working a lot this past week and arriving late, when you're already asleep.

You called him often and he didn't mind, he always found time to talk to you. You missed Jungkook because you hardly saw him all those days. But you couldn't really rejoice because of this terrible nausea. 

"Oh, this is so wonderful. I can't wait for tonight." - She said sincerely. Jungkook chuckled into the phone. 

"Me too, my love. I missed you so damn much. I don't know if I'll let you sleep tonight." - He says in a low voice. You purr seductively into the phone. 

"Okay, now I'm going to be burning up with anticipation. I've missed you so much too." - You say. Jungkook takes a deep breath and exhales, probably burning with impatience as well. 

"As soon as you get out of the doctor's office, text me, okay?" - Jungkook said. 

"Okay." - You answered briefly. 

"Now go lie down for a while. Don't do anything." - You rolled your eyes. 

"I have to go to the doctor." - You say with a slight protest. 

"Go, but get an Uber. Don't take buses." - Jungkook orders. You smile. 

"Yes, yes, Mr. Controlling Boyfriend." - You joke. 

"Well, how could I’m not?" - His smile was almost tangible. "You're mine, and I'm going to take care of you, whether you like it or not." 

For some reason, these words caused a warm wave of tenderness in you, which slightly drowned out the unpleasant feeling in your stomach.

"Okay, I'm going to go get dressed. And I'll order a taxi." - You promised. 

"Good girl. I love you." - Jungkook confesses. 

"I love you too." - You reply with great trepidation.  You say goodbye and put the phone on the table.

But as soon as you take a few steps into the bedroom, your stomach twists, and a wave of nausea rushes up your throat so strong that you barely make it to the bathroom.

Standing over the sink, you breathed heavily, trying to collect your thoughts. What was it? Was there really something wrong with that cheese?

Your stomach was empty, but nausea still lingered somewhere in your throat. There was an unpleasant taste in your mouth, and an unexplained feeling inside. But you threw up, and it should be easier soon. 

You slowly went to your room and picked out some clothes. You pulled on a warm sweatshirt and high-waisted jeans, and glanced in the mirror, assessing your appearance. Your face seemed pale, your lips a little dry. This sucked. 

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the phone to call a taxi. Your fingers hovered over the screen when a notification came through. 

10:25 AM. Tuesday | Sunbae Ji Sung: Hi Y/N. I'd like to see you. Do you have time? 

You raised your eyebrows. Why does he want to see you? You haven't talked to Sunbae since you asked him to get information about the Jungkook’s clan. That was before the new year. So much has happened since then, it's like you've lived a lifetime. Why would he want to meet you all of a sudden? You quickly scribbled down an answer. 

10:25 AM. Tuesday | You: Hi. Is it something urgent? I have a doctor's appointment at 11:00. Can we meet later? 

The message was read immediately. 

10.25 AM. Tuesday | Sunbae Ji Sung: It's urgent, I won't take much time. If you want, I'll take you to the doctor 😇 

10.26 AM. Tuesday | You: Okay. We'll have 20 minutes. Drive up to the cafe on Guro-gu called Passionate Croissant. 

10:26 AM. Tuesday | Sunbae Ji Sung: I'll be there in 5-7 minutes. 

You reply to a message and get dressed. You don't feel great, but your eyes are opening a little bit. By the time you get to the cafe, you should feel even better because you're walking. 

You threw your coat over your shoulders, quickly checked the contents of your purse - phone, wallet, documents - and took a deep breath and left the apartment. It was a little chilly outside, but the fresh air helped you to gather yourself. You walked slowly toward the cafe, trying to push away the remnants of your nausea and headache.

When you got inside, the smell of fresh pastries mixed with the aroma of coffee, creating a warm atmosphere. The nausea was slowly disappearing. You sat down at the table by the window and ordered a cup of tea, which you didn't even intend to drink, because you thought you might throw up again. 

Sunbae arrived a few minutes after you. He greeted you warmly and even gave you a hug as a sign of old friendship. 

"I'm glad to see you. You have become so beautiful." - Sonbe compliments you, but you give him a skeptical look. 

"Hey Sunbae, have you lost your eyesight? I saw myself in the mirror today. I look terrible." - You say, making the sonbe laugh. 

"If you don't look at your eye bags, you've gotten even prettier in the last few years." - He says almost flirtatiously. You blush. 

"Thank you." - You say shyly, touching your hair. Silence falls between you. Tea is brought to you, and Ji Sung orders coffee.

"Love has people's beautifully." - Sunbae say, returning his gaze to you. You look back at him. His expression looks sly. 

"What do you mean?" - You ask. Sunbae doesn't answer right away. 

"Do you remember our last conversation? You asked me to find you some information on Run Noir?" - You listen to Sunbae carefully, trying to understand what he's saying. "I remember when you said you were worried about your boyfriend, who might be connected to this clan. Why didn't you say it was Jungkook?" - Sunbae finally asks. You freeze for a moment. You feel your heart speed up. 

"Does it matter?" - You ask cautiously. You feel the atmosphere at the table change and become tense.

"Well, I guess it does." - He finally answers, still studying you with his penetrating gaze. "He's one of Namjoon's closest associates. You've been friends with him for years, why didn't you tell me you had such influential friends?" - Ji Sung says, almost mockingly. You're annoyed, but you control your emotions. 

"I see you've learned a lot about me. I didn't know I had to tell you my whole biography." - You reply, trying to sound indifferent, but in reality, you're feeling all tense inside. Ji Sung leans back, smiling slightly. 

"Now I understand why you were looking for information on the entire clan. You wanted to see how much the situation sucked, didn't you? So how do you like your boyfriend's activities?" - Sunbae says unceremoniously. You don't answer him. He leans forward a little, his voice quieter, but no less intense. "You must live well on the money he takes from people." 

Your fingers grip the cup so tightly that your knuckles turn white. You feel anger boiling up inside, but you try not to give in to it.

"Don't you dare say that." - You say quietly but firmly.

"Oh, so I hit the nail on?" - Sunbae raises a subtle eyebrow, his smile almost mocking. You stop talking as a waiter approaches the table with coffee for Ji Sung. 

"You don't know anything." - You throw back as the waiter leaves. You try to control your emotions as best you can. 

"I know more than you think." - He takes a sip of coffee, not taking his eyes off you. "And that's why I'm here."

You sigh, realizing that he's not going to let go. You are disappointed by this behavior of the sunbae. He's just like everyone else, looking for an advantage for himself. 

"What do you want?" - You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"Remember, my dear, you have a debt to me. And to pay it off, I have a favor to ask of you." 

A debt. You'd forgotten that you'd promised him you'd do whatever he asked in exchange for information. 

"A request?" - You tilt your head, looking at him warily.

"You're close to Jungkook, so you can help me find out what I need to know." - Sunbae says. You will not find out anything for him. 

"What if I refuse?" - You ask. Sunbae stretches his lips into a smile. 

"Then your name will be in a place it shouldn't be. And not only yours, but his as well." - He says as if he's telling you what the weather is like outside. Your breath catches in your throat. His casual tone makes you angry. 

"Are you threatening me?" - You ask with one eyebrow raised. 

"I'm giving you a choice, Y/N. You're a smart girl, you know how to make the right one." - Ji Sung replies and takes another sip of coffee. You press your lips together. Now things have really become even more complicated. 

"What do you want me to know?" - You ask, as if you're making a choice in favor of sunbae. But you're not. You're curious about what he wants to know. Ji Sung smiles wider. You hold back your smile. 

"Namjoon's clan is involved in the supply of uranium to Korea. Jungkook is one of his trusted men who is in charge for the organization. I need to know what kind of transportation and when the first deliveries will be made." - Sonbae replies. You want to hold back your laughter, but you can't. You laugh openly and almost mockingly. Sunbae raises his eyebrows and clutches the handle of his cup. 

"You made me laugh." - You say, touching the assets of your eyes. You're not afraid of Seongbae and his threats, because you know that if you say a word to Jungkook for him, Sunbae will be in trouble. "Sunbae, do you seriously think I'm going to do that? I'm not going to tell on my boyfriend to you. If you want to know any information about him and his activities, please find another source of information." - You get up and want to leave. But he stops you.

"You owe me!" - He says coldly. You freeze near his seat. You turn to look at him. "If you don't want to pay me back, you'll be in trouble." 

"One word from me and you'll be in trouble." - Now you're the one making threats. "Sunbae, I'm ready to pay off the debt, but it's this way." 

He assesses your reaction, as if he's trying to figure out if you're bluffing or if you're really ready to fight back. Ji Sung sighs, as if he's bored by your heroics.

"Y/N, be realistic. You do realize that this isn't just your boyfriend. He's Jeon Jungkook, Namjoon's right-hand man. And sooner or later you're going to get hurt by him yourself." - He gets up and stands close, which makes you uncomfortable. He leans forward, his eyes full of hidden excitement. "I'm offering you an opportunity to get ahead of the game." - You clench your fists.

"You know nothing about us..." - You say angrily. 

"I know more than you think." - He interrupts. "For example, that he's been living with you in your rented apartment for almost a month. And that he would do anything to keep you close. But have you ever thought about what would happen if he stopped being interested in you?" - His words hurt, even though you don't show it. It can't be that way. You love each other, and this man's words are nothing. 

"Stop it." - You say coldly. "I'll pay you money for that fucking information which one did you get for me, how much do you want?"

Ji Sung smiles even wider.

"It's not about the money, Y/N. I could just tell you the amount, but that's not what I need. I need information." - Sunbae doesn't give up. 

"Then consider that I don't owe you anything." - You say, picking up your bag and turning to leave.

"Think again." - His voice catches up with you at the door. "You have until the end of the week. And then... well, I don't want to scare you, but know that I'm not someone to ignore." - You give him one last angry look and walk out the door in desperation. 

You walk out of the cafe, feeling your heart pounding furiously in your chest. Ji-sung is playing a dangerous game, but you're not one to give up easily, either.

You lie down on the chair, trying to calm yourself down as the doctor examines you carefully. The meeting with the sunbae, which had been so unexpected, had turned into something really horrible. He wanted to use you to get information. What kind of information? Jungkook is involved in the uranium supply. While you were in the taxi to the hospital, you read something about uranium and what it's used for. It's dangerous and very bad. 

Is it suspicious why he wanted to know this information? He definitely wanted to know it for someone. Because he specifically indicated that he wanted to know how much and through what means the supply would go. Sonbe gave you until the end of the week. What should you do? Tell Jungkook?

It's only everything was fine, there was no word about Doohoon, but now this Ji Sung showed up and demanded from you to get information your boyfriend. That crazy. 

Your body felt tired, and you could barely keep still as the doctor pressed her cold fingers on your stomach, listening intently.

"Are you in any pain?" - The woman asked in a calm voice, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

"No." - You answered briefly. The doctor just nodded, finishing her examination. She sat down at the table, asking you to get dressed and sit next to her. She was checking something in her notes with a computer mouse. You got dressed and sat on the table opposite her. 

"Y/N, do you have a register care with us hospital?" - The doctor asked, looking up from the monitor. 

"Register? What register care?" - You didn't understand, looking up in surprise.

"The register for prenatal care. You're about three weeks along. But I don't see any records about you in our database." - Says the doctor. You freeze. You think you heard something. It seemed like you were about to lose your balance, even though you were sitting in the chair.

"What...?" - Your voice was weak, barely audible. Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest. "By all indications, you're in early pregnancy, so if you haven't registered yet, I'd advise you to do so as soon as possible." - The doctor explained calmly. You couldn't move. You just blinked your eyes, feeling as if your consciousness was separating from reality. But how? You had been taking anti-inflammatory drugs and in some cases emergency contraception every time you didn't take your medication. How could this happen? 

You are carrying Jungkook's child?

This discovery hit you with a powerful wave of shock. You didn't even know what to feel: fear, panic, or something else that didn't fit in your head. 

You are pregnant. How do you tell Jungkook? What will happen now? 

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[dreamingofthewild]

100 Bloodweave Fanfic recommendations

As there are over 3,000 Bloodweave fanfics, I have been wanting to do a fanfic rec list for a while. To share some of the works I enjoyed and to offer support for the talented writers in the fandom. I opted for 100, as it is a nice number for a rec list. It was very hard to narrow it down, and there are many good fics that, unfortunately, didn't make it too the list. This is not meant as a 'Top 100' list.

The recommendations will be shared in 6 parts over 6 days as it is too much for one post and I don't want to overwhelm the tag.

Part 1: In Universe Canon Multi-Chapter - 15 fics.

I'd Burn Through the World by thisis_V. Ongoing. Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Follows the events of the game as Gale Origin. A very canon exploration of Gale and Astarion's relationship throughout the game. One I would recommend to those who do not understand Bloodweave. Includes original art from the author.

Burn out Fade Away by Newperspective20. 112,500 words. Slow Burn, Time Travel. Astarion ascends, Tav takes control of the brain, and Gale sacrifices himself to save everyone from being under Tav’s control. Only he finds himself back at square one. Will he be able to change the course of fate this time?

Stitches, Threads, and the Strings that Bind us Together by Newperspective20. 136,235 words. Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Fluff. The events of the game as Astarion Origin as he learns that not everyone is out to get him.

Ash and Stardust by badmarilyn. Ongoing. Slow Burn, Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining. When the orb starts to play up, Gale is forced to confide in Astarion. They start to gravitate towards each other, realising they’re more alike than they originally thought.

Broken Together by sparklypanda98. 61,872 words. Slow Burn, Fluff, Angst. A long-form Bloodweave fic about Astarion and Gale's relationship forming during the events of Baldur's Gate 3. Plenty of fluff, but some darker stuff too.

Your Echo in My Scars by shadesofmidnightsun. 76,421 words. Angst With a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Smut. Astarion needs blood and protection. Gale just ... needs. They're both full of cracks. Where Gale and Astarion each have their own mess to work through. Will they make each other better?

Ancient Books and Horror Stories by eternalscout. 107,796 words. Slow Burn, Canon Typical Violence, Backstory Relevant Themes. What starts as a tentative friendship between Gale and Astarion, bonding over a shared love of reading, turns into the alarming realization that they may just have caught feelings for each other.

Through the Fire Together by Aria_Lerendeair. 16,646 words. Angst, Healing Together, Falling In Love. After defeating Cazador and releasing the Spawn to the Underdark, Astarion finds himself in the graveyard, waiting for whatever retribution they want to visit upon him after what he did to them.

Old Wives Tales by neo7v. 8,030 words. Mystra related content warnings. This fic explores the exploitative and grooming nature of Mystra’s relationship with Gale.

If the Cross on the Door Doesn't Scare You by Aylwyyn228. 19,113 words. Hurt/Comfort, Starvation, Found Family. Astarion gets outed as a vampire in the shadow-cursed lands. 

embracing the sun by vannral. 16,095 words. Mutual Pining, Friendships, Smut. In which people see whatever That is between Astarion and Gale and wonder. Meanwhile Astarion and Gale are oblivious. Set during Act 3.

Stop Kicking Gale (Please) by Yassha. Ongoing series. Hurt, Comfort, Fluff, Backstory Relevant Themes. AU where Astarion gets to process his emotions a bit earlier, and Gale is a bit more volatile, and those two things match up quite well.

Keep To The Shadows (your light can’t reach me there) by beepbeepsan. Denial of Feelings, Flirting. Trapped between a rock and, well, more rocks, Astarion has nowhere to run from Gale and his own feelings. But damned if he won't do his best to find a way out.

Bliss and Ignorance by ultranerdyandiknowit. 17,195 words. Dubious Consent, Hurt, Comfort, Angst, Misunderstandings. While sharing a moment of intimacy in the Shadowlands, Gale gives into the temptation to read Astarion's mind. He wants to feel their pleasure shared, to feel it amplified.

What he finds when he opens the link is nothing short of horrifying.

Shades of Romance by ClaireinSorcia. 139,829 words. Romance, Fluff, Getting Together, Drama, Backtory Relevant Themes. Astarion’s always been a flirt, so what happens when the new victim of his attentions, Gale, falls for it and takes it seriously? With Tav having turned Astarion down it should be fun to see how far this game can play out. But then what will Astarion do when he catches feelings he doesn’t even understand?

Part 2: In Universe Canon One-Shots - 17 fics.

Part 3: In Universe Canon Divergent - 16 fics.

Part 4: In Universe Post-Canon Multi-Chapter - 20 fics. 

Part 5: In Universe Post-Canon One Shots - 14 fics. 

Part 6: Alternate Universe - 18 fics.

[thesirencult]

PAC: HOW YOU'LL GET 💵 WEALTHY

PILE 1 🤎

The Hermit

My Pile 1 💕 welcome to your reading.

The path to wealth for you starts first and foremost through a much needed spiritual seclusion.

You will realize that money = energy through this path of learning how to listen to your inner voice.

You need to tune out other people, only for now. Others do not understand your ideas and can not help you.

After you come out of this period of self searching you will make a great mentor out of yourself and a guiding light. That means that the transformation you went through blessed you with wisdom to guide others, either to make money, lose weight, awaken, search for spiritual truth etc.

A simple 9 to 5 won't get you there.

Possible career paths, skills and talents you can leverage and ideas : any work that helps people transform, self development/coaching industry, therapist, spiritual worker, book writing, ability to listen to others, empathy

PILE 2 🤎

5 Of Wands

Dear Pile 2 ❤️,

Contrary to Pile 1 your path to wealth includes "climbing the ladder".

You are well equipped to start from the bottom of an organization and reach partner/C-Suite status.

You will probably get a prestigious degree as I can tell you are an overachiever. This reminds me of Suits. You will fight through and compete.

You have great arguing abilities (law?) and have the stamina to get to the top.

Now, apart from the above, the 5 Of Wands can show physicality. This is a sign for me that some of you need to watch your health and not run yourself down from all the work you do.

PILE 3 🤎

Knight Of Cups

You are passionate and romantic. Your soul is artistic and you want to create beauty in this world.

This is a singer and songwriter, a chef that creates beautiful dishes that drive people crazy. An amateur photographer who takes photos of hotels in beautiful destinations like a professional. Someone who wants to build a clothing brand.

You are multitalented and an eternal child. Stick to your arts and crafts and harness your beautiful energy and creator abilities and you'll be unstoppable.

P.S. Take the opportunities that come your way, it's never too early to meet with success, contrary to what others tell you. You'll never be fully prepared or ready. You may be a Projector.

PILE 4 🤎

9 Of Wands

Sweet Pile 4 🧁,

You have so many great ideas and the perfect foundation to make 💰. Your mindset is already more than halfway there and you have great abilities.

You need to work on romanticising struggle. It doesn't have to be as hard as you make it. Don't take the stairs if there is an escalator. You don't have to prove anything to anyone.

If right now things are slow, remember how far you've come. Even if it is not visible in the physical, the past few years you've accumulated a wealth of knowledge and are ready to take the next step.

Trust in yourself and the Universe. Preserve, defend your position and work both hard and smart.

A few months ago I stumbled across a video with a woman who was a business coach. She asked successful people "How did you make it?" and their answer was "I never stopped."

Never. Ever. Stop.

Source : The Siren Cult

[impala-dreamer]

Who We're Pretending To Be

A Story from the YOU Universe

~Joe finds himself getting too close to one of his grad students and he fights the urge to fall completely.~

Joe Goldberg (Jonathan Moore) x F!Reader

5,019 Words

Warnings: NSFW.

A/N: If you've not seen the Netflix show YOU, this may not be your thing. Still a great story, but it helps to know the show. Also, if you've not seen the show, I suggest you get right on that because it is AMAZING.

Set between Seasons 3 & 4. Slight spoilers for s4, but not really. 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The classroom seems cold today, like there’s something missing. It’s distracting. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s off, but there’s a charge in the air like something’s about to happen; as if lightning could strike at any second.

I don’t mean proverbial lightning, as none of my students seem to have grasped any of the contextual undertones of the book we’re discussing, but actual, live lightning. If I opened the windows behind my desk just a crack, a bolt would sneak through and bury itself in the base of my skull. Maybe that’s what I need- a jolt of electricity, something to break me out of this fog that crept up around me and climbs forever higher threatening to suffocate me.

I think I’d take the lightning to the skull over suffocation, but we don’t always get what we want.

I’m perched on the edge of the desk when the door opens and Y/N comes rushing in.

Suddenly, all of my attention is on her.

She’s never late. Never rushing, always at least ten minutes early for every appointment, every class. She seems- off today, as well. Perhaps she can feel the imminent lightning strike as well. Wouldn’t that be funny? I find a kindred amongst these idiot grad students who can’t even seem to end this horrid debate.

“I am so sorry, Professor Moore.”

Y/N’s voice cracks a bit, which in itself isn’t very unusual. She’s one of the quieter students I’ve encountered, and the only American in my current circle of acquaintances. Her accent is faint, as if she’s attempting to hide it from her schoolmates. She’s been here a while, I can infer; sprinkling in local slang and adding letters to words where back home there would be none. She’s trying hard to fit in, but why? Why not be herself?

“I got held up by-”

I hold up my hand and smile softly. “It’s fine, Y/N. Please take a seat and try to catch up.”

For fuck’s sake, she’s only twenty minutes late, but it looks like every second has weighed her down like lead.

The others pick up their debate and I sit back a bit, cross my arms, pretend to listen. This teaching thing isn’t as hard as everyone makes it out to be. Occasionally, I toss out an idea and let them run with it. Sometimes, I pay attention, mostly I don’t. Mostly I’m thinking of You. Of how beautiful You looked at that art show, of how You gasped when you saw me like You couldn’t decide if You wanted to run to me or away.

From the corner of my eye, I see Y/N timidly raise her hand and You are temporarily pushed aside. She keeps her hand up but close to her chest, as if the very act of asking to speak is somehow terrifying.

How can someone so brave be so terrified to do something as common as speak in class? She’s clearly not a scared person by nature- she moved across an ocean to attend university when she could have gone for free back home to whatever state college she decided to attend. I’ve peeked at her transcripts- she’s smart. Not win a genius grant or a full ride smart, but smart. Why is she so nervous?

I smile and a bit of her nerves seem to quell. Her shoulders relax an inch and she smiles back.

“You know you don’t have to raise your hand, Y/N,” I tell her, laughing gently to put her at ease.

She dips her chin and then looks up with the most beautiful gaze I have ever seen. Her lashes flutter upwards in slow motion, the darkness of her pupils expand, pushing nearly every fleck of color away except the gemlike glow cast by the stained glass window over my head. She smiles and her lips shine like glass. Soft, pink, beautiful glass. I can’t look away and yet I absolutely have to. Thankfully, she speaks and I can act like I’m moving away to sit in my chair and not to get away from her.

“Sorry,” she says, sweet voice sweeping over the room. “I just didn’t want to jump in because I was late but-”

“But you have something to add,” I finish for her.

Her eyes float back to me and the atmosphere shifts. The foreboding of a lighting strike vanishes and the room seems to warm up. Quickly, I sit and scoot the chair close to the desk, set my elbows on the top, clasp my hands near my lips. I can’t stop staring at her.

She nods. “Yes. If that’s alright.”

There it is again, the tiniest speck of British on her tongue. How long has she been living here, and why? It can’t just be for school. She’s too interesting for that. She dresses to blend in; muted colors and clean jeans, her hair always swept back, face free of plastering makeup or too much color. There’s only ever that pink gloss and a gentle brush of mascara. It’s as if she doesn't know how beautiful she is, or perhaps, she doesn’t care.

Or was she one of those kids who never really got any attention until they blossomed but by then it was too late to fit into their personality?

She chews her lip nervously and shyly looks away from me.

No, she knows. She knows how beautiful she is, she just isn’t one to flaunt it; doesn’t need the attention. Or is that how she draws them in?

She’s already talking, but I can’t hear a thing she’s saying. I can hear her voice, that honey like glaze she adds to things when she’s speaking passionately, but the actual words, the meaning- I can’t follow a damned thing. I’m too busy trying to figure her out.

You flash through my mind for a moment; a sweet memory of a smile in the library when You didn’t think I was looking.

What is it about a smile that says so much without words? Does it show who we really are or who we’re pretending to be?

“I just think that love shouldn’t be so easily condemned.”

Y/N’s comment breaks through my thoughts of You and I clear my throat, straighten up in my chair, focus.

Across the room, Nadia rolls her eyes, clearly disagreeing with Y/N’s interpretation. “This isn’t love, it’s obsession. The two can’t and shouldn’t be intertwined.”

Y/N bites her bottom lip and shakes her head.

What does that lip gloss taste like? Berries, perhaps… No. Stop it. Focus.

“I disagree.” Y/N sits forward and tucks her hands below the table. “Love is obsession. Obsession is love. It’s not a tautology, no, but you can have one with the other. If you’re not even a little obsessed with the person you love, is it really love at all?”

My mind is zinging, my ears ringing. Does she truly believe that, or is it all for the sake of debating Nadia? They’ve been at war most of the semester, but this seems truthful, deep.

The bell rings before I can recenter and add anything. I give my head a little shake and stand up, the chair rolling back behind me.

“Class dismissed. Great job today. Lively, wonderful discourse.” I fake a smile at the rest and then settle on Y/N.

She’s taking her time, hanging back as she gathers her things. She stuffs a notebook into her bag and the pen she’s been using rolls away from her.

“Crap.” She lunges across the table for it, but it’s too close to the edge, too far from her reach.

I drop down at the last second and save it from a dusty fate of rolling across the floor. “Gotcha.”

She’s staring when I stand up. Our eyes meet and she doesn’t shy away, but looks even deeper somehow. A smile lifts her cheeks and my pulse quickens.

No.

She holds out her hand and there’s a fleeting second when I want to trace my fingers across her palm, feel how soft and warm she is, but no. I toss her the pen and turn, trying to get her out of my head.

I have more important things to do than become a tired cliche. Some professor falling for a student. It’s an outrageous thought, and besides, I don’t need Y/N, I have You.

I hear the zipper close and a chair being pushed in. She’s leaving.

She lingers in the door and turns back to me with a sweet smile. “Have a good weekend, Professor.”

Her tone is so genuine, so kind that it nearly knocks me backwards. I can’t remember the last time anyone has truly wished me a good time. It’s such an overused pleasantry, so common and boring, but not when she says it. Not when she smiles at me like that, with her eyes still and focused on me.

The warmth spreading through me is real as well and I can’t seem to push it away. “Thank you,” I managed, barely able to stand let alone return the sentiment. “You too.”

The rest of the day goes by quickly but it feels like forever. Two more classes, two more groups of students droning on about what the author really meant, when none of them, not a single one seems to be able to read between the fucking lines. None of them can step back and see the whole picture, capture the meaning as a universe unto itself and not just a line in black and white on an otherwise blank page.

Y/N could read between the lines. Y/N would understand the sum of it all. She would get it.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

On my walk home, I think about You. Wondering what You’re up to, where You are tonight. The sun is setting, dragging the sky down into a deep pink and I wonder if You are seeing the same colors where You are. Someday, we’ll sit together on an island in the Pacific and see what that sunset looks like. Would You paint it for me, I wonder…

Y/N crosses my mind for a moment as I gaze at the light reflecting off a window as I pass. Would the sunset hit her shining lip gloss in the same way? Would the pink deepen with the sky? Would she smile if she caught me staring, back away if I leaned in to drag my thumb across her juicy, pink bottom lip?

No.

Darkness has settled and I haven’t moved to turn on a lamp. I’m stuck, glued to my sofa, my hands nailed to my thighs. I keep my eyes open for fear of seeing her face, but bouncing around the room looking for a distraction is only giving me a headache. I need to get out. I need something to do. I need-

A knock at the door.

Who would be knocking at my door at nearly ten o’clock at night?

Curiosity pulls me off of the couch and I switch on the lights as I head to the door. The peephole is clouded as fuck, but I can see her outline. My stomach tightens, my shoulders tense.

What is she doing here?

Her hand raises to knock again, but I unlatch the door before her knuckles hand. I find her dangling in the air, her startled face the most appealing thing I’ve seen in ages. Her eyes go wide, her jaw drops just enough to give me a peek at her tongue. Quickly, she rights herself and shies her gaze away. She chews her lip and I notice the pink gloss is gone, replaced by a deeper red.

Everything about her is different tonight. Her hair is down and fresh, her eyes are lined in black and the color blended above brings out the prisms in her eyes. Her clothes are strange as well: a short skirt, tall boots, a blouse that’s too tight to hide anything. There’s a gold string around her throat, something old, a gift perhaps from a dead relative, or a chance find at an antique shop. She would like diving through boxes of discarded wares looking for treasures, wouldn’t she?

Or maybe I’m just distracted by her appearance. Maybe I should stop trying to pick her apart and send her far, far away.

I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed. I’m good. I have to be good for You.

It’s been too long since either of us has said anything and the fact of it is hanging in the air between us like some kind of glowing, awkward sign.

Thankfully, she speaks.

“Um… Hi.”

It isn’t much, but it breaks the painful silence.

I smile, confused but curious. My ultimate downfall.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?”

I should say something about it being inappropriate, something about contacting me only during office hours, but she knows. That’s not why she’s here. I can see it in her eyes.

Her hands are tucked behind her back, I notice. She’s holding something, not just shoving her tits in my face, although, I can’t say that I mind. She sees that I’m looking and turns to the side a bit to hide it more.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming herself, steeling her nerves. Why is she so nervous? What secret is she hiding? What plan has been brewing all day in her head?

That’s it, isn’t it? She was late this morning, distracted and timid because she was planning to come here.

I should be flattered, but I’m too intrigued by her boldness as she slides past me into my flat.

“I know this is highly inappropriate,” she says, the confession like a song on her lips. “But… I… Well…”

Her nose scrunches up in the most adorable way while she searches for the right words. It’s endearing and makes me want to sit for hours and listen to her talk, discover exactly who she is and why.

I’m still standing in the open doorway, I realize, so I move aside and let it close. My back presses into the door and I hold my tongue, letting her get to the point.

She’s struggling, dancing around it in her head.

I want to crack open her skull and watch the thoughts spark through the gray matter like shooting stars.

“If you’re worried you’ll get in trouble,” I say, trying to get things moving, “you won’t. I’m just wondering why you’re here and how it is that you know where I live.”

She laughs and digs her tooth into the corner of her lip. “I’m not… stalking you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

“Nothing that nefarious,” she goes on. “But I did do something bad.”

The nerves seem to fall away from her the more she speaks and her demeanor changes. Her voice deepens ever so slightly and her hip pops to the side as she looks me over. Is she… flirting with me?

“I doubt you’ve done anything newsworthy, Miss Y/L/N…”

She takes a step forward and her lips pucker gently.

She is flirting with me.

“I hope not,” she says with a little laugh. “You see, I work part time in the admin office…”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know a lot about her. So many things to uncover, so many artifacts to dust off and examine.

“OK…” I push off from the door and take a step towards her. She counters, stepping backwards, guiding me to follow.

“And, well, I accidentally was looking at your files and-”

“Accidentally?”

She presses her tongue between her front teeth and smiles, eyes falling across my face. “Accidentally on purpose,” she clarifies. “I was… curious.”

“About me?”

Another step closer but she doesn’t move this time, letting me close the space between us by a few forbidden inches.

She sighs sweetly. “A little, yes.”

I dip my chin and look up, lifting my brows in question. She pulls in a quick breath, clearly enjoying the look I’ve given her.

“OK, maybe a little more than a little.”

One more step and I’m closer than I’ve ever really been to her, except just now when she invited herself in. I take a breath and she smells warm like vanilla, sweet like honey. The fantasy of berries on her lips falls away and I suddenly want to bury my face in the crook of her neck and do nothing but breathe in her scent, feel it invade my senses, infect my bloodstream.

Her chest heaves with a heavy breath and her eyes grow a little darker. She wants me.

“Maybe a lot curious,” she whispers, lifting her chin and blinking slowly.

Is she daring me to kiss her? Can she feel the lightning between us? Dare I?

No. She’s a student. She’s off limits. She’s not… You.

She must notice my hesitation and steps back a pace. She clears her throat. “Anyway. I saw that it was your birthday today.”

It’s not my birthday. Not my real birthday, anyway, just the one on the fake passport with the fake name and real photo.

I smile because I have to. “It is.”

Whatever she’s hiding behind her back shifts between her hands. “And, well, it’s presumptuous of me but I’ve never heard you talk much about friends or family and… you don’t wear a… ring. I just… Well, I know how hard it is to be a world away from what you know, and this city isn’t exactly kind in general, so…”

She’s rambling and I don’t ever want her to stop. Her voice ebbs and flows over me like a sultry tsunami and I can feel my fingers twitch, my blood rush through my system faster and faster.

“I just don’t think anyone should be alone or forgotten on their birthday so-” Finally, she reveals the mystery behind her back and holds out a green glass bottle. “I took a chance that you were a scotch man. At first I thought wine, but I know nothing about wine, and the guy at the shop said this one was good, so… Happy birthday, Professor.”

She hands me the bottle and without thinking, I take it. It’s not expensive by any means, but it’s the gesture that counts. She doesn’t let go right away, holding it with me, as if she can communicate her desires through the blown glass.

“Thank you.” I smile, let my finger brush against hers. “This is… very thoughtful.”

She lets go but doesn’t move otherwise. Her eyes are locked on me, her stare so pure.

I have to get her out of here.

Y/N shrugs and smiles, so confident now, so sure. “It’s nothing, really. I don’t even know if it’s any good.”

Her meaning lingers and I nod, gesture to the sofa as I start to peel off the seal on the top of the bottle.

“Join me for a glass?”

She bites her lip again and I nearly lose it.

“Love to.”

The scotch isn’t terrible but it’s not great. More like something you’d grab if you were just looking to get drunk, not necessarily gift someone you’re trying to impress.

Is that what she’s doing here? Trying to get me drunk? Surely, she knows she’s impressed me long before today. The looks between us in class, the lectures directed almost entirely at her have not gone unnoticed, but this, this is different. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The sofa suddenly feels too small. We sit close, drinking and chatting about life in London. She tells me about her family back home and how she had to cross an ocean to escape a misspent youth and an abusive father figure. I lie my way through a few answers but mostly, I let her talk.

The more she drinks, the looser her tongue gets, the freer her gestures. More than once, her hand falls to my knee and even though I should, I don’t push her away. Even though I should stand up, take her glass, ask her to get the hell out of my house, I can’t. I can’t do anything but stare at her lips as she speaks, drown myself in the tone of her voice, memorize the shape of her ears, her nose, slope of her shoulder. I’m lost in time with her and even though I know the clock is careening past midnight, I don’t care. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want her to move. I want to be frozen in this moment with her. I want to die in her arms but not before…

“Professor?” She laughs gently, loose and relaxed from the alcohol. She leans in, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Are you even listening to me?”

Honestly, I have no idea what she’s been saying, but I can’t let her know that. I shift a bit, turning towards her. There’s barely room left for the Holy Ghost, as they say, but I doubt he’d begrudge me a little closeness, especially on my- on Jonathan’s birthday.

“I’m listening,” I whisper, captivated by the way she’s glowing. “I’m always listening to you.”

She squirms a bit and smiles behind her glass, takes another sip, downing the rest. There’s a drop of amber gold on her lip and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to sweep it away with my tongue.

She pats the back of her hand against it and the moment is gone.

“Ya know, you’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. And I’m not just sayin’ that. You really are. I get you. I see you, Jonathan Moore. I see inside you.”

She slurs a bit, but not enough for it to be considered a crime if I touch her. That’s all I want to do, just a simple touch. Just to feel how soft she is beneath my fingers, how smooth the curve of her cheek.

Ripping myself away from the impulse, I take the glass from her hand and set hers next to mine on the coffee table. “I think you’ve had enough, Miss. Y/L/N.”

Her hand lands on my chest, right in the very center of me. Can she feel my heartbeat? Does she know how much I want her?

“You can call me by my name, ya know,” she says, dropping her chin and smiling. She’s so close that it would take but a tiny nudge to taste her. “Everyone just calls me Y/N/N.”

This is insane. She needs to leave. I need to slam the door behind her and never open it again.

“Y/N/N.”

Her name falls from my tongue like an incantation and her eyes go hazy. She leans closer, her breath fanning over my lips.

“Say it again,” she asks, nearly begging, “please…”

Fuck, this isn’t good. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I need to- Fuck, what does it all matter? She’s beautiful and interesting and smart and sitting next to me barely dressed and all she wants is me to whisper her name. What’s the harm?

“Y/N/N.”

The spell falls over her and I know it’s too late to back away. Her eyes fall closed and she leans in, pressing her crimson painted lips to mine. She exhales, pushes herself into the kiss, lets out a tiny moan.

She feels so good and it’s all I can think about. She pulls back and I lean in, needing more. My arms wrap around her, stealing her away. She melts against me, opens her lips to my tongue. The vanilla on her skin mixes with the scotch on her tongue and I’m blown away.

“Professor…”

If feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop tasting her, can’t stop breathing into her with every ounce of air in my body.

I let her go for a second, thinking she’s changed her mind, but no, she’s even more ready than I am.

She stands up, fits her knees in between mine and slowly unbuttons her blouse.

My eyes are huge, I know it. I must look like an idiot but I can’t help it. She’s here, beautiful and curvaceous, teasing me, undressing for me. It’s all for me. She’s here for me.

The blouse floats to the floor and she looks down at me, a hint of previous nerves returning. Her bra is pale pink and covered in lace. Something so pure and innocent covering up something I would kill for.

I would, I realize. I would kill for her.

She wiggles out of her skirt and her hips are distracting. I want to touch, to feel my bones crushing into hers, to sink myself deep inside just to see what it’s like, to know her, to feel all of her.

“You like?” she asks, innocence ringing in her soft voice.

What happened in her past that would make her ask such a thing? Who hurt her so badly, who crushed her self esteem to the point that she wouldn’t be able to tell if I was enjoying her delicious display?

“Of course. You’re… absolutely stunning.”

I can’t say more or I’ll break. I reach for her and she slides into my lap, locking her thighs around mine. She presses down on me and my cock responds, all blood and logic rushing down to push back at her ass.

She wraps her hands around my neck and bends to kiss me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, she curls them, tugs gently, testing, enjoying. Her kisses deepen and her hips roll. I’m about to lose my mind.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first day of class,” she moans, scraping her nails across my scalp.

The sensation is intoxicating and my eyes roll back a bit as she tugs hard. Her right hand is locked in my hair and her left is dragging down my chest. I should stop her. I should stand up. I should…

“Fuck.”

Her hand sneaks into my slacks and she scoots back onto my knees for better access. I can’t even think straight as she rubs at my cock. Her hand is soft, warm, firm. I know I’m moaning, but I can’t help it. I might just die here beneath her.

Her tongue glides across my lips. “So hard to sit in class and not dream about fucking you…”

Something snaps inside of me and I let go. I grab at her tits, peel the delicate lace down and pinch her nipples hard until she’s crying out and arching against me.

“I can’t even read anymore,” she admits, nearly breathless as my lips seal around her left nipple. “Every page makes me think of you. I can hear every word in your voice. I- oh God-”

I bite down just enough to stop her train of thought and I look up to see a blank, beautiful stare.

“I want you,” she whispers, lips never quite closing after.

Fuck. This is what I was trying to avoid. This feeling, this hunger inside of me. This need to fall into someone else, this treacherous lust that forces me to act.

“Please…”

Her hand falls to the nape of my neck and it’s so delicate, so tender that I break.

Wrapping my arms around her, I stand and twist, flipping her over onto her back. She gasps and reaches for me, kissing through the shock while I tug the slacks from my hips. She yanks at my shirt, fumbling with the tiny plastic buttons, licking at every new inch of exposed flesh.

“Want you inside me so bad,” she sings, nearly praying as if I’m some ancient god on high that can make all her dreams come true.

I don’t know about all of them, but this prayer, I can answer.

I tear the lace from her hips and fall down over her, crushing her into the old sofa. Her breath stops for a blessed second and I swear I can hear her heart racing through the silence. She runs her hands across my shoulders and down, curling them around my hips while spreading her legs wider.

“Please… Please… Please…”

Her whine is pathetic but I can’t get enough. If I had it in me to drag this out, to tease her for hours, I would, but the scotch has clouded my head and the sight of her strung out and desperate makes it impossible to wait.

She inhales hard when I sink into her. I can feel myself falling but I press my hands beside her head and hold on as best I can.

She feels like heaven.

Or the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever know.

Wet and warm and tight, I can feel her throbbing around me. Every thrust is like magic, making her shiver and squirm and tighten up even more. She clings to me, nails digging into my arms, mouth searching and thirsty for more.

“Jon-”

I almost go insane. It’s not even my name, but it feels so right on her lips that I wish it was.

I feel her orgasm; her body clenching down on me and pulling me in deeper. It’s so hard not to scream her name at the top of my lungs. Nearly impossible not to stay here forever.

I fall down, shove my face into the crook of her neck and thrust a few more times. I know it’s over too soon, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She rakes her hand through my hair, gently this time, and finds my lips, kissing me sweetly.

“Hi,” she laughs when our eyes finally focus and find each other through the afterglow.

God, she’s beautiful. So giving, so loving, so perfect in a million different ways that it’s actually breaking my heart.

I smile and peck her lips as I go soft inside of her.

“Hello, You.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05  

[gilverrwrites]

Castiel NSFW Headcanons

Pairing: Castiel / GN!Reader

Rating: M/18+

Please remember: to give yourself time to rest.

Warning: Very brief mention of non/dub-con. Cas is kinda pervy and I love that for him.

Wants to and will deliver the most excellent and diligent aftercare, but you have to be vocal and specific about it. Communication is good, tell him what you need, and he will do it, everytime.

Actually prefers receiving oral over giving. Don’t get it twisted, he thoroughly enjoys the effect it has on you, and will do it over and over for you, but it’s a sensory thing. There’s just so many particles, and molecules on his tongue, it can be overwhelming.

Incidentally like A++ when it comes to dirty talk. He doesn’t really have a filter so he will have no problem telling you what he likes, how he’s feeling. Will check on you aften.

Does that feel good? Do you enjoy when I touch you like this? You look so beautiful when you cum for me. I love the way you feel around me.

However, until/unless you teach him the slang terms and how to use them, he will refer to most body parts by their anatomical names.

Is a top, but is very open to experimentation. Is happy to and enjoys bottoming/being pegged.

A switch, with predominately dom tendances.

Taking charge comes easily to him, and he can be very impatient/intolerant of having his orders disobeyed. Bratty behavior can be fun for him, if you’re into that sort of thing, but prefers service subs who will do as told and do it well. But does not like to be the boss all the time. He likes it when you top him, especially for slow, sensual sex.  If you’re more experienced than him and can show him new positions or foreplay.

On the subject of positions, top 3: Face-off, cowgirl, and seashell.

Art by Emily Schiff-Slater

Will ask/scold you to keep your eyes open and look at him frequently. Really enjoys watching your expressions/reactions, particularly your eyes.

Doesn’t like to restrain you with ropes and the likes, but does like using his body and/or his grace to pin you down and have his way with you.

Let him hold you down, get nice and deep inside, then look up at him with glazed eyes and let out a whimper; he may just cum on the spot.

Can and will go for hours if you let him, stamina is not an issue for him.

Especially for cock-warming. On the rare occasion he has downtime, he will happily spend all day with you on his lap, cock inside you just idly chatting, examining and teasing you as you gradually get more wound up and needy for him.

His wings and the space around their base (in between the shoulder blades) are highly sensitive. Just the brush of your finger is enough to get him riled up.

You have to inform him that it’s found upon to discuss your sex life unprompted with other people. Unless that doesn’t bother you.

Dean: Where the hell were you man?!? We’ve been prayin’! Cas: I heard you. I was busy engaging in coitus with [name]. ____ Sam: Cas I’m trying to explain something here, what is so important on your phone? Cas: [name] has sent me a photograph of their [redacted], I am uncertain of the best way to respond.

Does not particularly like sexting, as he finds it hard to concisely convey his thoughts through text. BUT he does get a thrill out of seeing and having your nudes be so easily accessible and for his eyes only.

Seldom masturbates but does watch a lot of porn. It’s for “research” in “understanding humans”. Totally not for inspiration.

If you suggest making your own DIY porn, he will jump on it. There may be some technical teething issues, but he is determined not to let that stop you. Would film it from the nightstand of something, not POV as he still wants to get lost in the moment and not have to worry about filming you from just the right angle.

Secretly a voyeur. Prior to any sexual/romantic relationship he may have ‘accidentally’ popped up and caught a glimpse (or more) of you, or his other human acquaintances getting their rocks of (be they alone, or with other people). During any relationship he likes watching you touch yourself, sometimes he’ll ask you to let loose and do it however you like, sometimes he prefers a more guided approach. So, telling you, where to touch, how much pressure, if and when you can reach your climax.

And of course, frottage/thigh riding. Watching you grind on him, per instruction, until you cum makes him giddy.

Very much enjoys a good cream pie. Typically, he’s not really into (his own) cum, it’s sticky and messy. But he cannot deny the rush of pride he feels when he see’s his own cum seeping out of you.  

Is often commando, it just feels more freeing, and allows for easer access. Yes he could just use his angel mojo, but there’s something more fun and a little sordid about doing it himself, or better yet, having undress him.

Same goes for you. He prefers stripping you by hand. It allows him more time to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his, to tease all the points of you that he knows makes you squirm.

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Heyo! So I was thinking about that baby fever thing I @ed u in earlier and I was thinking if maybe u could do some headcanons on what u think uh Reborn Wukong would be like as a dad to his newborn baby? I feel like he’d be such a good dad 🤭☺️

Reborn!Wukong: Papa Canons.

Pair: dad!Wukong x mom!Reader.

Content/Trigger Warnings: cuteness overload, my 1st shot at writing headcanons.

Authors Notes: CAN I JUST MENTION HOW FUCKING CUTE HE LOOKS IN THIS PICTURE?! LIKE.... OMFG, MY HEART. Anyways, IDK if I did it right, but this had to be the first one I did. The idea has been plaguing my mind since I saw both this request and this art you're referring to. Might make a part 2, but I dunno.

Hope you enjoy! Wanted to make this extra special bc your support and feedback always make me smile. <3

The audacity of this child to look so much like you. 

Looked at his precious baby from over your shoulder just as the little angel opened their eyes and made eye contact. Made his world stop and his stone heart explode.

He was so cautious and a bit nervous when you asked him if he wanted to hold the baby. The second he had that infant in his arms… his world stopped for the second time.

They had his eyes, tail and little fuzzies all over, but they had your facial features, complexion, and hair colour that matched the fur.

If you thought he was overprotective with you, get ready for him to be the most vicious Monkey King there ever was. 

He always made sure that you held that baby from beside him, not letting the child out of his peripheral vision. 

Someone tried to kidnap the child once… let's just say they didn't live to regret it.

He tells the little one a lot of stories when they can't sleep, only if you and the others are asleep, though. He doesn't need you or Pigsy teasing him about being ‘adorable’ and all that nonsense, but he also doesn't want the little angel to disturb your sleep.

Sure he was lenient with forcing you to sleep regularly, but now? He made sure that an hour or two at most when the sun goes down, you and the baby are asleep. Whether that means he has to carry you both in his arms or not. If that became the case or even if your feet hurt too much to walk, then so be it.

Oh how he enjoys when such occasions do occur. Usually he’d carry your things so you could focus on the bundle, but when he has to carry you both, of course he forces Pigsy to carry them.

He loves holding you both in his arms, especially when you rest your head against his shoulder and tell him how much you love him. Thanking him for blessing you with your bundle of joy as you often did to her.

Whenever you camp out, too far from any village, he makes sure to make shelter for you and the baby near a tree to keep the little one out of the dew. 

Makes the nest with the best items he could find and if it’s not enough for the both of you, he runs off to find other things that are even better. 

If you pass a marketplace that sells anything soft? He ensures that the most comfortable ones are procured exclusively for you and your infant.

He enjoys watching you feed the bundle… cause… ya know. You're his wife. He also thinks the little sneeze they do every time they’re finished is absolutely adorable, and it melts his heart every.single.time.

He watches the baby closely when they reach the age to sit up on their own. He makes sure to be ready for when they fall over in case you're too slow to catch their head.

He loves the kid, sure, absolutely without a doubt… but sometimes he doesn't like it when all your attention is on the baby to the point you don't acknowledge him.

He's an amazing dad, but he’s an amazing husband and mate first. GIVE HIM ATTENTION, DAMMIT! 

He’s still the same possessive Wukong, of course he’d get jealous if even the baby gets more attention than him. Give him snuggles when you get the chance, a plus if you hold him and the baby.

He still often gets you little gifts and things he thinks you may like, especially since he knows how stressed you've been since you got pregnant. It’s his doing, so it was the least he could do.

When the baby holds his finger and gurgles with that furrow you frequently did, he tells them not to talk to him with that attitude. Something that makes you smile, trying your best not to laugh. Especially when he scolds you for passing on that attitude to his precious infant.

When the baby does it with that large gummy smile that also reminded him of you, his heart soar. He'd have that content smile that makes any hardship worth it. You absolutely love that smile the most.

Despite the times he would frequently tell them not to ‘talk’ to you like that, he liked to say it served you right for passing down your sass in the first place.

When the baby gets old enough to eat mushed up fruit? He collects the ripest and juiciest ones for the both of you. Yes, he will beat Pigsy to a pulp if the gluttonous pig tested his luck to try taking some.