#The Smile Giver
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[ cw: violence mention / death mention / ]
Will never stop thinking about how Leo, all alone in an endless void and being beaten again and again and again by the only other living thing around, still finds comfort in that space. The situation he was in was completely hopeless, and in any other circumstances he would not have escaped, at least not fast enough to save him from permanent (or even fatal) damage, be it physical or mental.
And yet, despite the bleakness of his situation, despite the agony and helplessness, all he needs is one glance at a crumbled photograph, one glance to remember his family, and thatâs enough of a reason for him to smile.
Maybe thatâs why his powers center around manipulating space - because no matter how much space is between them, no matter how dire his own situation may be, just the thought of his family, alive and okay, is enough to give Leo hope.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rise leo#the prison dimension is horrifying on its own#add in a monstrous being that towers over you and has vowed to ensure your suffering?#god I canât imagine how scary that is#Mikey opening the portal was a miracle because if he hadnât managed it there#itâs really up in the air what could have become of Leo#personally I subscribe by the theory that you straight up canât die in the prison dimension#so itâs a prison in all ways#but the thought of a Leo who manages anyway who adapts and continues to have hope despite it allâŠ#Leo saying heâs nothing without his family is a double edged sword really#because the thought of his family alone is all he needs to live. to hope.#to smile#nothing without themâŠbut theyâre EVERYTHING to him#and maybe he doesnât realize it butâŠthe feeling is mutual#one thing too is that hope that comforts Leo so much is not just that#should he think his family needs help - that hope can turn into determination#Iâm unwell about this family#actually on my point of their powers - I truly do think the abilities tie in not only to their personalities#but to their relationship to family and love in general#kinda like love languages in a way#Mikey with his chains and time abilities values being around his family the most - he wants them to experience living in the moment togethe#Donnie is someone who is 100% a gift giver to show his love - his constructs are exactly that arenât they? gifts of his mind#Raph is someone who willingly bears the weight of the shield - he protects his family like the best big brother possible#and Leo - he goes off on his own a lot but his mind is constantly on his family anyway#like a sailor at sea no matter how far he travels the compass always point in one direction - and for him that compass points home#even if he canât make it back - itâs still there#and thatâs enough
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The contrast between his exquisite exterior and the horror within put Ma in mind of a pearlescent cocoon of silk thread: a coffin for the worm that had been boiled alive.
#general ouyang#the radiant emperor#i'm making little reference sheets of everybody <3#'exquisite exterior' *draws him making the most constipated-looking face*#the smile bottom right is for esen. obviously#i was thinking of that 'i think more highly of the giver' exchange#i don't know if he ever smiles normally at any other time#blood cw#hwdtw#my art#*
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*Youth Pastor Voice* I saw a tiktok about a Pink Sauce and it really got me thinking. Young people care about condiments instead of the most important Red Sauce, the Blood of Christ
#I haven't started with the religious trauma coach yet#but I still talk about stuff with my therapist#rn were talking about shame#Ive got a lot of it#(who would've thunk it /s)#a lot of my shame revolves around emotional expression and intrusive thoughts#g-d loves a cheerful giver so I gave myself to everyone#gave it all with a smile too#now there's none left for me#and now we gotta put the Me back in me#if that makes sense#ex christian#religious trauma
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Spoilery time for c3 ep55, letâs go lads đ
I am straight up âš dead âš from this episode with itâs content, especially the LoveLetters (saw the ship name and itâs so god damn cute) stuff we got.
It was just so fucking adorable and quite a lot that I just canât list it all here rn orz
Itâll be interesting to see how different it is with love between aeormatons compared to other humanoid races. âCause of course, this relationship had sparked on quite quickly, but at the same time, maybe itâs just easier for aeormatons to get into a romantic relationship?
Anyways, letâs just say, Iâm very interested to see how FRIDA and FCGâs relationship will develop until the latter- along with Imogen, Fearne and Chetney- will leave to find the rest of BH. Especially with- as weâve seen so far- FRIDA indeed being able to help FCG a little when it comes to their stress points, so maybe FCG will be able to stay calm during this whole time in Wildemount :]
Overall, got quite a few drawing ideas from this episode (especially with the new look for FCG, letâs fuckiNG GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO), but I wonât be drawing it today- nor maybe tomorrow- as I got a headache from the content overload ;v;
#Also. finding out that FCG's name was/is Faithful Care Giver???#Holy fuck did that make me smile qvq#my thoughts#FCG#FRIDA#LoveLetters#Bells Hells#CriticalRole#cr spoilers#cr3 spoilers#c3 ep55
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Happy Little Guys Au Designs
Got some more designs!
Here they are!
Name: Jeff the Hugger
Real Name: Jeffery Corazon
Nicknames: Jeff, Jiffy, Rainbow Eyes
Age: 17
Pronouns: He/Him
Likes: Fluffy Animals
Dislikes: Getting stressed out
Hobbies: Reading, Playing Soccer
Info: A very sweet boy, albeit very down-to-earth. Heâs known to be quite friendly and is always up to any game or mischief his friends plan on doing. He can be very responsible at times but there are occasions where he can be a bit reckless. Heâs also quite smart and will usually get very good grades. Another thing to note is that he still requires his medication and still has some emotional issues, but heâs doing his best to work through it.
Power: Emotion Sheild (His emotions become a physical shield)
Theme: âColor and Electricityâ by Muship
Extra: His eyes change color depending on his mood
Name: Surprise Liu
Real Name: Liu Corazon
Nicknames: SL, Angel
Age: 19
Pronouns: He/Him
Likes: Apple Tarts
Dislikes: Violence
Hobbies: Creative Writing, Scrapbooking
Info: A very sweet lad who just wants everyone to get along and make sure none of his friends get hurt. He is known to be quite pacifistic and dislikes any form of violence. He can be a bit shy and has a hard time standing up for himself. He is also quite naive and tends to trust people far too easily, usually leading him into some trouble. But despite that, he is very protective of his friends will do anything for them.
Power: Thought Manipulation/Mind Reading (He can also fly (cause of the wings))
Theme: âMy Timeâ by Bo en
Extra: Heâs a very tall boy (6â1)
Name: Jane the Giver
Real Name: Jane Everhart
Nicknames: Janey, Ghost Girl
Age: 17
Pronouns: She/Her
Likes: Ghosts
Dislikes: Bright lights
Hobbies: Learning about the paranormal/occult, Reading
Info: A very quiet girl who tends to keep to herself a good majority of the time. Some might find her to be a bit scary, with her constantly spooking people and her tendency to wander around in dark areas with only a candle as her light source. Sheâs actually quite nice once you get to know her. Sheâs also known to be able to see through lies and will call people out on it.
Power: Soul Summoning (Can summon ghosts)
Theme: âMrs.Pumpkinâs Comical Dreamâ by Hachi
Extra: I got the idea of her having Pastel Goth fashion from another person
Name: Jenny Smile
Real Name: Jenny Zambet
Nicknames: Jen, Batty
Age: 17
Pronouns: She/They
Likes: Things that are creepy yet cute
Dislikes: People thinking sheâs weird
Hobbies: Collecting weird looking dolls, Coloring, Fashion Design
Info: Sheâs known to be a very hyper active yet ditzy girl, running about and doing everything out of a spontaneous desire. She can also be very fun-loving and is very carefree, just wanting to spend her life in the best way possible and constantly surrounding herself with friends. Sure there are times where she can be very immature and clingy, even coming off as being obsessive to those she cares about the most. To the point where she would do anything to make sure they stay out of harms way. Even so, if you were to befriend her, she would absolutely do anything for you and take you to go shopping.
Power: Blood Disguise (Like Himiko Togaâs power)
Theme: âDarlingâ by Maretu
Extra: She is no longer in love with Jeff the Killer. She has moved on.
Name: Nina Smile
Real Name: Nina LĂ€cheln
Nicknames: Nini
Age: 19
Pronouns: She/Her
Likes: Daisies
Dislikes: People trying to take advantage of her
Hobbies: Embroidery, Collecting Ribbons
Info: She is a very polite and kind girl, just trying to go with the flow and not let anything bring her down. However, she can be very down-to-earth and is extremely responsible, never being the type for doing something out of impulse. Sheâs known to be very polite but she will never come off as obsequious, in fact, she hates it when people try to take advantage of her kindness.
Power: Ribbon Manipulation (Control the ribbons on her clothes)
Theme: âSugar and Creamâ by 11 Acorn Street
Extra: Yes, she wears braces
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thinking about jamie having to track down roy's original 2014 world cup england kit.... bc he did not own that beforehand.... just to take it to the england facilities to have the kit men there edit it to change the e to a u, this precious piece of history, paying thousands to buy it off of whoever had it in the first place, and probably another couple thousand in bribes to change it, just to make roy smile...... for a fake holiday ........
#like. im sorry but jamie wasn't even 17 during the 2014 world cup so he didn't have the money to buy it as soon as it hit auction#he did not own that kit before uncle's day#he probably has some kent game-worn kits that he bought but the ORIGINAL 2014 WORLD CUP KIT ???#that was not something jamie could afford when he was 17 and riding the bench at city. that's richmond's star jamie money#like. you don't get it he had to FIND whoever had the shirt (whether it went up for auction or if roy gifted it to someone).#he had to BUY IT OFF OF WHOEVER HAD IT (likely costing him a massive amount bc this is true english football history)#and then he had to GET IT ALTERED (just to make roy smile for a fake holiday)#jamie's a good gift giver that is all
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đȘœđșđȘœ
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âđđđđđ đđđđ đđđđđđâ đđđđđđđđ !â
âhow the jjk men punish you
ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, nanami, sukuna
cw: smut, overstimulation, choking, recording, degradation, praise, spanking, edging, toy use, mommy kink, daddy kink, squirting, crying, double penetration
đđđđ âź
Gojoâs a pleasure giver. But he canât help it if pleasure turns to pain. So when you make him real mad, what else to do but to fuck you till youâre crying. Shaking, begging him to give you a break. Pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your aching cunt with no remorse.
âP-pleasee Sat-oruuu, âm sorry-yy.â you cried with a hiccup. âI canât t-take it. âM close again and i-it hurts.â
âItâs all your fault baby. Couldnât just be a good girl fâ me now could you?â Landing a harsh slap to your overly sensitive clit making you mewl loudly.
You were a mess. Your cheeks stained black from the running of your mascara. The sides of your swollen red lips filled with drool at your constant cries.
A choked scream escaped your lips when Gojo reached down to rub your clit. Your hands flying to his wrist in an attempt to pull his hand away. âToruuuâ uh uh, âs too s-sensitive,â you sobbed. Your boyfriend scowling as his other hand wrapped tightly around your throat.
âUnless you want your punishment to be worse, you better behave.â he growled out into your ear. You whimpered as you let go of him, the pace of his thrusts speeding up along with the movement of his fingers. âThere we go, good girl.â he cooed.
The coil in your stomach was painfully ready to snap. Your eyes rolling back for what felt like the millionth time and your sobs becoming one with your moans as your body shook. Your pussy clenched down hard on his cock as you squirted, Gojoâs hand rubbing messily at the wetness between your folds.
Gojo laughed darkly, âSeven outa seven times youâve squirted huh, three more to go and iâm at a new high score.â Lifting you onto your hands and knees despite your tear filled whines of âno more.â
đđđđ âź
Getoâs pretty mean sometimes. When he gets mad he loves to humiliate you. Fucking your throat with a camera in your face, calling you the most degrading names. Then making you watch it when youâre done and threatening to make it public if you ever disobey him again.
âSay hi to the camera slut. Tell them how much of a stupid fucking girl youâve been,â
You only whine in response, your eyes welling with tears as Geto pushed your head further down on his cock. A loud gag sounding from your throat as your nose pressed against his pubic region, your nails digging into his thighs as you ran out of oxygen.
You let out a gasp for air when Geto roughly pulls your face back up, the camera zoomed into your spit coated chin, your flushed cheeks, and your glassy eyes. His palm landing on your cheek in a hard slap with the sinister tilt of his head. â Ready to tell them why youâre here like this?â
You hiccuped, biting your lip at the sting flowing through your face. ââM a bad girl who doesnât obey instructions.â you whimpered, looking up through wet lashes as Geto smirked down at you. âAnd âs my fault âm getting punished.â
âGood girl.â Going back to fucking into your parted lips, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he brought himself to release. Pulling you off of him and spilling his cum all over your face. âNow smile for the camera.â
And you did as told, giving the camera a small smile as the thick white substance dripped onto your exposed chest.
đđđđđđ âź
Spanks you till your ass is red. Making you count each one and starting again every time you pulled away or reached back to grab his wrists.
âFort-yy,â you cried, your ass sore as your boyfriend soothed his hands into your flesh. A smile on his face as he nodded in approval. âYou did well.â
Then to ârewardâ you heâs stuffing his cock into you, fucking you sweet and slow till youâre moaning his name. Your head falling back at the feeling of his fingers on your clit.
He fucks you just how he knew you liked it. Until your moans were getting louder and your legs started to tremble. âAhhâ Kentoo, âm close,â
Only to smirk down at you when he kissed down your neck, stilling his movements and pulling out of you as you clenched round nothing.
âSorry sweetheart, bad girls donât get forgiven that easily.â Walking away from you and leaving you whining with need. Your poor cunt in desperate need of a release.
Nanamiâs expression doesnât change when you beg him to finish the job. Sitting down and sipping his coffee as you attempted to rut your clit against his thigh. âK-kentoo please.â
âIf you make yourself cum you get forty more.â he warned, watching as you whimpered pleadingly up at him. Your lips forming into a pout when he ignored you âYouâre s-so mean.â
âShouldâve thought about that before you disobeyed me.â
đđđđ âź
Tojiâs even meaner side comes out when heâs angry, and he loves making you cum till you pass out. But not with his cock.
He leaves you tied to his bed, a gag in your mouth and your hands and legs bound to each corner of its frame. A vibrator strapped to your sensitive clit with a smaller one in you against your g spot.
âW-wait daddy donât goâ pl-ease donât leave me like this.â you cried, the older man only smiling before gagging you again, waving goodbye before exiting the house.
The toys pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your poor body, your chin covered in your spit and tears. You couldnât even feel your legs as they trembled, muffled screams falling past your lips as your pussy gushed onto the bed, again.
Your body spasmed, eyes shut tight as you attempted to pull your hips away from the vibrations on your clit. A defeated sob sounding in your throat when you were stopped by your restraints.
At least two hours went by, and your entire body was numb, your eyes struggling to stay open and your breathing heavy as you continued to swallow your tears.
When Toji gets home youâre already gone, the sheets underneath you soaked as you lay limp in the position he left you. Your legs still quivering with your wetness flowing uncontrollably out of your red, swollen cunt.
Toji smirked to himself, that should have taught you a lesson.
đđđđđđ âź
When you make Sukuna mad, he stuffs you full past your limit. âKunaâ donât think it can fit. âS too much.â
âYou better fucking take it. Since you wanna be so bad, iâll make it fit.â Bullying both his cocks into your tight cunt, stretching you wide as he bottomed out in you.
You sobbed loudly, nails digging into his arms as you adjusted around his thick girth. Your head fuzzy and your tears not stopping as he chuckled darkly into your ear. âThere you go.â
His hand reaching to wrap around your neck as he forced you to take him deep, your lips parted in silent choked mewls at the fullness. Youâre letting out loud cries when he started bouncing you on him, his grin never falling as he thrusted up. Groaning deeply at how hard you tightened down on him.
When you get used to the sting youâre a moaning mess, your head thrown back as you filled the room with your noise. Legs trembling as Sukunaâs cocks both rubbed against your gummy walls.
âF-fuckkkâ Kuna âm close.â
Sukuna scoffed. âThis is a punishment, ya really think iâd let you cum?â he laughed loudly, eyes darkening as he tightened his grip on your throat. âThink again.â
Speeding up his pace until you were screaming, the coil in your stomach painfully ready to snap as you let your tears fall. âPl-ease Kunaa. Needa cumm.â
âYeah? Does my girl wanna cum that bad?â watching as you nodded with a whimper, pressing a hot kiss behind your ear. âWant me to let you cum?â
âY-esâ please.â
âAww, well thatâs too bad, if you cum youâll never feel any of my cocks in you again.â he warned. A broken whine escaping your throat as your toes curled. You definitely wouldnât last.
đđđđđ âź
Choso is nine out of ten the one under you. But sometimes you make him really mad. And he punishes you the way he knows best.
His fingers on your clit as he lapped up your wetness, his face drenched in your slick and his eyes hazy at your taste. Your hands tied to the headboard above you as you tried to close your legs.
Choso whined into you. âBehave mommyâ you always make me take my punishments, time for you to take yours.â His muffled voice against your flesh sending vibrations through your clit.
âCh-osoâ baby, you know am sorry, thatâs enough.â you cried, your legs shaking as he sucked on your sensitive clit. âChoso,â you whimpered, âplease baby- mommy canât take it.â
He smiled widely, âThatâs the point.â His hands hooking even tighter around your thighs. âPlus,â he groaned, âYou taste sooo good.â Curling his tongue into your hole as you clenched down with a mewl.
âGonna cum again mommy? Cum all over my face? Your pussyâs so sloppy.â he moaned, messily fucking you into you with his tongue. Your cries loud as you screamed his name incoherently.
Moaning as your sweet pussy gushed into his mouth, swallowing it down with a satisfied moan as he felt himself cum in his sweats. Again.
ââM almost done mommyâ promise.â he chuckled.
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#choso x reader smut#choso smut#nanami smut#nanami x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#choso x reader
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HOW TO WRITE ROMANTIC ATTRACTION FOR DUMMIES
For anyone who wants to learn, (especially aro/ACE, aspec, ect.)
Requested by the lovely @darkandstormydolls
Alrighty! Welcome back or welcome to my blog! I'm dipping my toes back into the category of posts that gained me my exposure!
So if you're here, you want to know how to write romantic attraction/romance!
Strap in and let's begin!
(Pls spread this to people you think would benefit from seeing it, or anyone who requested it bc I forgot, ANY ASPECS)
Step one -
Your characters must admire one another at the beginning, Romantic feelings usually do not present themselves as obvious until you really think them through, meaning your characters may not notice they have a crush until it's too late
These are general statistics and light stereotypes. So feel free to not use this tip:
Male characters usually tend to notice physical things first, like body shape, hair, skin, clothing, the way their lover moves, ect
And Female Characters Generally tend to notice more small things and personality-based traits first, like their lover's humor, speaking mannerisms, shifts in expression, ways they fidget, emotion in their voice, ect.
And someone who is in love will generally show more interest in this particular person's movements, actions, words, and anything in general.
Step 2 -
The character will show more interest in sharing their love language with their lover/crush
Physical touch - People with physical touch love languages may want to hold hands, cuddle, hug, or just lean on their crush whenever they are close to them moreso than they want to with others
Gift giving - Gift givers will want to get more gifts more often for their crush, probably thinking of them whenever they see little trinkets or wanting to get them big gifts for special occasions or signs of appreciation
Acts of Service - Acts of service people will offer to do extra favors and a bunch of extra stuff they don't have to do twice as much as normal
Words of Affirmation - Flattery, they will generally flood their crush with kind words and compliments
Quality time - Quality time people will want to spend time with their crush at almost every turn, and when they want company, will turn to their crush first
Step 3 -
After a while, these urges while become very prominent and more noticeable to the person having them
They may find themselves fantasizing about their crush or having them show up in their thoughts more and more, feeling nicer and happier when they're around, or when they're thinking about them
Smiling when they think about them, cutsey little fluff thingies like that
A crush is essentially: I want to date that, I want to be near that always, I want to marry that, I want that to snuggle me (or other love languages)
Or in simpler terms: if that asked me out, I would say yes (or at least want to say yes if your character is in denial)
Step 4 -
The character's urges to be close to this person grows strong enough that they do smth about it, whether prompted by another character. Or they just don't know I how to not anymore (like when you wanna eat candy and you don't want to, but you do anyway bc I JUST NEED THE CHOCOLATE OKAY?)
(Or for Aro/Ace, garlic bread)
People who are in love are generally very prone to be all dreamy and poetic and VERY EXTREMELY BIASED towards their crush
Then Yada Yada they kiss & shit
You're welcome, BYEEEEEEEE đ
Happy writing!
Love you! Thanks for reading, And Ghost Tumblr Mother says go drink some water and have a snack, you've earned it, and you are beautiful <333
Have a good day! :]
@blue-kyber @thisisntrocket @cosmolumine @i-do-anything-but-write @paeliae-occasionally
@supercimi @the-letterbox-archives @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @artsandstoriesandstuff
@corinneglass @wyked-ao3 @urnumber1star
#ellia writes#ellia's rambling#ellia's haunted house#ghost party#creative writing#fiction writing#writing community#writer things#writerscommunity#writers on tumblr#writeblr#writing#writers#writer#asexuals writing romance#aspec writing romance#aro/ace writing romance#writing romance#romance writing tips#romance writing#writing tips#writing guide#romantic attraction
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entertainer | jjk (m)
Summary: Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored â that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains⊠but regret.
âł pairing: Jungkook x reader âł rating: 18+ âł genre: strangers to lovers (or something); angst, bits of fluff, smut!! âł warnings: do not fall for this jk i repeat do not fâ đš he's kinda hot though; (not so) silent yearning, flirting, a shit ton of sexual tension, sexual fantasies, some jealousy from his side, he is very VERY attracted to her, mystery, oc is a big question mark, full jk pov!, difficult past(s), (mention of) sexual harassment, mentioned past death of a side character, crying, fear, manipulation, confrontation and fighting, aggression, cursing, cocky and selfish kook, overthinking, secrets and revelations, explicit sexual content: kissing, fingering, teasing, drunk shenanigans, sooo much lust, big dick jk, dom jk, oc is odd, oral (f. receiving), spit stuff, handjob, manhandling, orgasm delay, lip ringâŠ, light choking, bit of hair pulling, a spank or two, coming on oc, some cum tasting mmmh, ass stuff, protected sex, rough sex, various positions, masturbation; as always THE ENDING!! lmk if i forgot something!! âł wc: 32.4k âł a/n: MHMMM, it's finally time!! i experimented with the trope a little; def not a professional when it comes to this genre, but i tried my best. both oc and jk are odd in this one, and you might be on either's side and hate either of them, i can't say :'D very curious tho, so come and drop a message to lmk what you think. let it aaaall out :P <3
âł listen to the Entertainer playlist! đ€  Â
TAGLISTÂ | MASTERLIST | WIPsÂ
Jungkook has always wanted an audience to perceive him.
Not just to perceive him, in fact. To worship him.
Jungkook doesnât consider himself a bad person. Spoiled, a little selfish, but not necessarily bad. He enjoys attention, no matter how temporary or who the giver of it. Feasts on it like an incubus.
Whatâs wrong with that? Nothing.
Or.Â
Maybe there is. Maybe heâs coming on too strong.
Because youâre not part of his audience, sitting over there, middle row, middle spot, with your eyes lowered to the notebook. And when you do look up, thereâs nothing but indifference in your eyes.
It irks him. Maybe he is a little narcissistic, and maybe he canât quite deny it after all â but as part of his future team, you should at least fake a smile, right? Display a certain amount of enthusiasm, the joy of working with aspiring artists.
But no.
Youâre occupied, scribbling into your notebook. Jungkook, cognisant of the fact that he hasnât issued much of significance today, understands that you cannot be taking notes of his words. And he also understands that⊠if that is trueâŠ
Youâre not granting him as much fascination as heâs used to.
General admiration thrown into the same bucket as his unwavering talent â that heâs well aware of â might just be the reason he climbed up so high in no time. Sometimes, gentle livestreams and vlogs do the trick â locals have found reasons to adore him already.
At times, a good song and strong vocals arenât necessary to woo people.
Jungkook, however, is insatiable â thatâs what keeps him pondering at times. That itâs just the locals, and on an international scale, thereâs still much to achieve.
But heâs not a quitter, heâs a conqueror.
And heâll reach that mind-boggling status of a well-known, global icon, name flowing as naturally through the seam of peopleâs lips as a still-lying, tranquil lake.
Jungkook knows itâs cocky of him to praise himself to the skies and to rely on his resolute hopes so much. He knows life backfires sometimes, and that endeavours donât always pay off. He only started as an insignificant city boy, too.
Survived the cruelty of elementary and middle school; shared a room with his brother, relying on him until he grew and learned to finally rule over high school; every single soul at his beck and call. Then, trudged through college before any of where heâs standing even existed.
But heâs here now. And people acknowledge it.
Except you.
And it throws him off his balance. Which is probably why he shortens the end of his speech, close to slurring distracted syllables before he realises heâs forgotten a prepared sentence or two.
No matter; the relevant and main message should have been delivered by now.
So he leans back in a chair in the back, flashing a captivating smile and waits for the applause. Somewhat proud when the praise needs a moment to cease for his manager to reclaim the mic, freeing the metaphorical stage, much in the form of a simple pult, for the CEO of the company.
Taehyung is savvy of how to regain control over a stage; Jungkook doesnât know whether he fucked up his final remarks, but Taehyung summarises his ideas well. But the clapping does say a lot.
And between those raising their hands to appreciate Jungkookâs speech, you were, too. He knows because he looked directly at you; still is. And when your eyes drift to his, the two of you hold each otherâs gazes for at least a couple seconds longer than the others.
And your smile, while present, is somewhat tight-lipped, a bit awkward but confident, too. Odd, as well; hard to explain, but as though you know what you want. As though you have your priorities set straight and cannot be swayed by anything the world might throw at you.
He doesnât have a word for it. Poised? Self-reliant? Fearless? Can a single look even say this much or is he being delusional?
But this canât be true, honestly. Nobody is this unperturbed or passive. Heâll find out.
Your stare aligns with his a couple more times over the next minutes, staying there before continuing the journey over the crowd. Jungkookâs eyebrows twitch just a little whenever your eyes pierce into his, so tantalising and deep, big sweet ires, but so conniving at the same time.
He doesnât know your name, but heâs sure that it defines intrigue. And maybe, just perhaps, it might serve as the synonym for drop fucking dead gorgeous, too.
When Taehyung leads you to Jungkookâs stuffy studio, the latter hears your voice through the open door several seconds before you come in. Or actually, itâs not quite his studio.
More like a collective office that a couple of the newcomers use. Jungkook has been part of this crew a little longer, but he needs the additional success, more prosperity; heâs been told to yield more results to earn his very own four walls. Carrying his signature flavour.
But itâs okay. For now, this sufficesâŠ
The stench of coffee and the sound of the AC. The pot and plants that always rest in some corner of the room, courtesy of Taehyung who insists on some colour in the grey-white, small room. Jungkook has gotten used to it all.
Which is why itâs strange, seeing your splendour enter the small space, delighted by whatever Taehyung might be explaining. Your grin is the widest Jungkook has seen since yesterday.
He didnât get to meet you properly yet, so he canât say where your humour lies. Nobody introduced you, despite your new position as his very own, personal work partner. A second manager, here to guide and aid him when Taehyung canât; and apparently, youâve found some charm in Taehyung that you didnât see in Jungkook during the stupid meeting.
Not that Jungkook would ever dare to doubt his friendâs appeal, but youâve stormed into his life like a present, and so silently, too; and he wanted to be the one to open it. To reveal it.
Not Taehyung. Even if itâs his job.
Okay. Calm down. Jungkook sighs. That again.
A motherly blanket of praises and fatherly pats of pride. Thatâs whatâs gotten his head so riled up. He was coddled too much as a child. Made felt special. Thatâs over now, Jeon, youâre in an industry filled to the brim with competition.
Chill chill chill.
But now?
With that alluring smile staring up at Taehyung, only hints of it left when your eyes move to Jungkook. Fuck.
But Jungkookâs stance remains steadfast and self-assured when he greets, âHi there. Welcome at last, huh?â
Jungkook notices when your mind snaps out of the conversation with Taehyung and into the one he started; a gentle hand frees your face off your hair to enable a proper view to it. The other is still dug deep in the pocket of your leather jacket, covering parts of the white top underneath.
Semi-long, silver earrings rest right below your ear, against your neck when you tilt your head a little; your expression so respectful and inviting when you smile. Jungkook inhales you in that one split moment, details stinging into the eye without much effort.
And perhaps heâd observe more, appreciate your stunning, obvious beauty and elegance further; but time passes as it does before you finally utter your very first sentence to him, âHi. Didnât think Iâd ever be saying this, butâŠÂ thank you for having me.â
Thatâs sweet.
Your words are reminiscent of the adoration his fans grant him, but your expression is as cool as a refreshing autumn wind. The perfect balance, possibly.
Jungkook gestures to a small couch in the back, right next to the door, but you raise a rejecting hand, claiming, âBeen sitting all day observing Taehyung. Need to walk a bit.â
And you do. Deliver a last farewell nod to Taehyung who waves a little, gripping the handle and locking you in the room with the younger man nearly drooling over you.
The hand hidden in the jacket before has emerged, arms loosely folded as you take in the interior of the studio, allowing no more insight into your thoughts than, âNice.â
Jungkook hums in distracted agreement, standing at the wall, watching you roam around the humble space in small steps. Itâs odd, being in here with you; the atmosphere fizzles, a little less like electricity, just a bit more than carbonic acid.
But the moment was to arrive anyway; youâll be a close link to Jungkook from now on. Of course you need to familiarise yourself with his space, too. So far, you seem to have an opinion on it already.
âEasy to trigger claustrophobia, but,â you walk through the open door to the darker recording room, tapping the mic for a moment, âcosy, too. Very cool equipment.â
âYeah. I agree.â Pause, eyes dropping to your fingers grazing the stand of the mic. Then, âI wouldâve come to you today⊠or yesterday for that matter, but things were so chaotic andââ
âOh, donât worry,â you assure, waving his concerns off, âI could see people rushing around and preparing the moment I got here. Iâm probably not the main concern right now among everybody.â
âNah, thatâs not it. We have a great team here.â You step out again, hands folding behind your back until youâre leaning against the wall opposite of him, mirroring his stance. âIâm sorry you arrived at such a stressful time, though.â
âNot your fault. I decided so myself fully knowing you were in the middle of something.â
Ah. So youâve seen his interviews, read the news. You came here with sufficient knowledge about him, alright.
âReally though,â you continue, blinking slowly, âIâm just glad to be here at all.â
Ah. Yes â about that.
âWhat brought you to our company anyway?â Jungkook asks, coating his voice in sugar to decrease the risk of unintentional and prying rudeness. âI mean â itâs been a while since somebody joined the main team, is all.â
âOh. What brought me hereâŠâ You slide down the wall just a few inches, staring at your feet before you meet his eyes again. Something flashes in them for a miniscule second, albeit too brief to be caught and analysed. Then, you say, âSentiments?â
Jungkook gathers words of confusion the moment you utter yours, a question already on his tongue. Has he been here long enough to evoke sentiments in his followers? Or do you veil a whole different connection to this company than he might understand?
Who knows. It doesnât feel too deep, at least, when you speak again, elaborating when his eyes reveal his bedazzlement before he can, âI mean, I like your work.â
Okay. So much he interpreted; and he must admit â the feeling of pride is a thoroughly unique one.
âI think youâve been deserving of your growth, and I just,â you speak, shrugging your shoulders, digging one heel into the solid ground, âI could never stop thinking of what Iâd say or do if I was here or how Iâd try to help, even though Iâm not a true musical genius like you.â
This is so excitingly new.
How poised you remain as you talk about your fascination for him; how carefully you choose your words. Heâs met fans before, but he doesnât think any of them has ever practised such control over themselves.
And harbouring such emotions for a tiny little celebrity like him while simultaneously treating him like a human being is an art youâve well mastered. Despite Jungkookâs urge to feel loved and worshipped to a dependent degree, youâre an incredibly attractive change in pace.
Ugh.
Dependent degree.
Although, he does wonder what youâd be like if you fawned over him.
Jungkook contains the fantasy; suppresses his sigh.
âSo,â he starts, âyouâre here because youâre a fan.â
âMmmh. Kind of. My friends started it and then pulled me into this. Honestly, at first I couldnât imagine ever getting into your stuff.â
Your gaze moved down to your trainers a mere moment ago; whether to hide your expression or give into a habit, Jungkook canât say. But the honesty surprises him; even stings a little as he voices, âOh?â
Your head shoots up, lips forming a circle before you imitate, âOh. Wait. That was⊠pretty rude.â You seek confirmation or denial in Jungkookâs eyes, and when his slightly wrinkled forehead, tight-lipped smile reveals the answer, you immediately opt for an apology, âIâm sorry. I didnât mean it like that.â
âHow did you mean it then?â
âJust that.â You fiddle in your position, bringing your digits to waist level. Then, you laugh; a rhythmic sound. âOkay, donât hate me, but. I was one to judge a book by its cover, and you had this young adult too-confident-too-sly something about you. But your musicâs surprisingly sentimental.â
Jungkook halts for a moment, moving his head to side-eye you; producing a hoarse Uhhh before he admits, âIâm not sure whether youâre complimenting me or fully destroying me.â
Another lovely laugh. âI am complimenting you. To be fully transparent, I was probably, uh, biased? Because my friend. They have a knack for usually pulling very questionable men, so I probably just didnât entirely trust their intuition.â
âFair enough. I guess?â Jungkook matches the softness of your giggle, nodding towards you, âAnd now you do?â
âMmmh, well, weâll see.â
Jungkook must be stupid. Of course you wonât be able to deduce much from the first meeting yet; perhaps the flirting needs to slow down for just now. You seem the patient kind; much like now, letting the quick silence prevail without much struggle.
No sign of awkwardness surrounds your aura; only a hint of⊠suspicion? Flashing into your eyes when you let them move through the room again, freezing right next to Jungkookâs head. Youâre not looking at him, but at something past him; but you donât question nor voice anything.
Merely return to his stare with a smile, and he uses the moment to pour some courteous manners into the mix, asking, âDo you want something to drink? Coffee, water? A Red Bull?â
But you immediately raise a hand, shaking your head, âOh, itâs okay. Iâve already got caffeine flowing there instead of blood,â you slide a finger along your arm, indicating a vein under your layers, âI just mainly came to say hi and to introduce myself. And to ask if I can help anyhow.â
âAh⊠well, uh,â Jungkook halts mid-sentence, throwing a look around as though heâs searching for something to appear before he concludes, âdonât think so. I was in the middle of some production work, but donât think I need much.â
âI see. Okay! Then Iâll leave yoââ
âBut,â Jungkook intervenes immediately, adamant on keeping you around. Maybe he can wrap up work earlier today? Bring you home? Probably not â not on Taehyungâs watch. âMaybe you can tell me what you think once Iâm done?
âOf course. Itâd be my pleasure.â
âWould have an excuse for your company, too, then.â
The laugh that follows is so subtle that Jungkook barely hears it. It doesnât leave your throat, stuck in there, just a tiny sound reminiscent of amused bafflement.Â
Jungkook knows his way around words â understands what his utterances and implications usually apply. But somehow, not too many people have been the calmer ones in the room; aside from his superiors at work, not having the upper hand is new to him.Â
So you set a fuse loose in him; destroy a nerve in his brain, changing up his communication habits. Because he certainly did not mean to say this out loud. And not in such a sense either.
He adds quickly, âI mean, it gets lonely here.â
âRightâŠâ you concur, albeit weakly and with somewhat⊠entertained mystery in your eyes? He canât say. Itâs as though youâre wearing your face as a mask, undecipherable. âI get it. Even though your studio is cosy enough to enjoy your own company at times, right?â
âNot mine. But weâll work on that.â
He cards his fingers through his hair, aware that he is probably more than an open book right now; his usual perfect poker face does not work with you.
Why?Â
Weird.
âGot a couple things here that are mine, though. Yoongi and the others allowed me,â he adds.
âAh⊠LikeâŠâ
Surprisingly enough, you take another look through the tiny room, possibly trying to detect something you didnât see before. Regarding details. Then, you settle next to his head once again⊠and once Jungkook moves his eyes off you for the first time since you came in, he sees what you see.
Which is to say, nothing much out of the ordinary. In fact, the most trivial thing in the room.
âLike that?â you voice, pushing yourself off the wall to near his relaxed body. The scent of your perfume wafts through the room before youâre close enough; tenderly grazing his senses. âWhatâs that?â
Focus.
Your finger points to the object next to him, hanging at a nail at the wall; dark blue with white letters on it. Pretty mundane, pretty basic design.
âJust⊠a cap I bought back in college.â
You read out the name, pronouncing it perfectly, yet slowing down as if youâre learning a new foreign term. The sudden inquiry is strange, too: you donât seem as truly curious about it as your question did; perhaps youâre playing for some time with him, too?
He wouldnât hate it if you did.
âDo you know that one?â he questions.
You nod; a main hint as to why you wanted to know, yet indicating that the knowledge wasnât of much significance. You say, âIsnât it a popular one? I had a few friends who went there.â
âHm⊠yeah, I mean. I guess itâs a known one. I got a degree there in broadcasting and entertainment like⊠four years ago.â
You exhale a barely audible puff of air before you whisper-murmur the most infinitesimal, petite, âDamn,â underscored with one indecipherable tilt of your head. He canât see your eyes too well, so the reaction remains as transparent as you have been thus far.
Until he raises a thick eyebrow, confusion hidden in a somewhat relaxed yet awkward smile as he wonders, âWhat?â
âHm? Oh, nothing, just. Itâs impressive how much youâve achieved in just four years, right?â
ââŠWell. If you say it like that, it does sound pretty neat.â
The bubble of pride expands alongside his ego; right beneath his chest. Somehow, the feeling changes his posture, makes him feel bigger.Â
Perhaps you notice what your praise elicits; perhaps youâve already fathomed his persona that he usually doesnât dare to reveal this fast. But whatever he conceals with his fans, lies in front of you with an open access.
You make it easy to feel comfortable; he doesnât need to know you too long to acknowledge this much.
âI graduated not too long ago, too. Three years?â
âOh⊠then look at you,â Jungkook compliments, using the moment as an excuse to examine you further; head to toe and back. Your legs are crossed, upper body and face confident, but the position somehow delicate. Hm. âYouâre quite awesome, too, donât you think?â
âI meanâ took a while to get here.â
âRight. So what have you been doing during this time since graduation?â
Whatever distraction you have found in the cap seems to break as you silently forage your brain for a response; possibly attempting not to divulge too much. And your answer is accordingly hesitant, though never dubious.
âSaving up? Preparing for life, I guess. And waiting for a good opportunity.â
For what? Do you usually keep your statements in fragments?
He prods, âTo do what?â
âWell, to do,â you gesture to the wall in front of you, albeit clearly hinting to the situation, âthis. Hoping to change everyoneâs lives around here.â
You smile wide, the joke obvious as can be, but Jungkook canât help but think that you might not be too far off. Unique minds alter brain chemistries; thereâs something unforgettable and magnetising about them, and Jungkook steadfastly believes his intuition that you might just be one of them.
For the first time ever, he murmurs your name, delighted by how easily it melts on his tongue. It falls out breathier than he intended to, but when you tilt your head, the intrigue in your pupils inexplicably matches his tone.
He adds to your name, eyelids drooping just a bit, âSoâŠÂ youâll turn out a long awaited surprise, huh?â
And you, against all expectations, lean in for just a minimal, not too inconsequential moment, hands back in your jacket. Itâs a playful, harmless motion as you move back on your heels, then steady yourself again, bodies and faces still far away. You couldâve just as well given him a pat on his shoulder.
But thereâs something in the way you look at him, tempted and ominous at the same time. He canât say what youâre thinking because every feature in your face implies something different.
Even more so confusing what methods for success you came into this company with when you finally say, no pretext or further clarifications, âI really do hope so.â
âDo you come here a lot?â
Everywhere he goes, the lights are bright.
The white walls in the rooms of the company building reflect the sun in the summer and maintain a sense of optimism in the winter. Theyâre what Jungkook imagines waiting halls before Heaven to look like.
Then the fluorescent vibrancy in his apartment. And the sunlit sky, albeit cold in this winter, giving way to the planetary systemâs star through the floating, parting clouds.
Even this modern art museum with its complex design, winding staircases, glass walls and high ceiling. It lets through an abundance of light, unaware of the balance Jungkook usually craves.
Dark and light â a healthy mix.
Itâs why he cherishes the comfort of the recording studio so much. Its dim walls and the silence, so unlike the hallways outside of it. Or why he prefers his apartment unlit, often merely allowing the few lava lamps to illuminate his rooms.
But again⊠itâs only a balance he usually craves.
Today, he doesnât mind the brilliance.
Because youâre part of it.
Clad in a beige long-sleeved cotton top, slight turtleneck included. It doesnât fully cover your neck, still revealing a mole similar to his. Itâs tucked into your light brown skirt; your legs are covered in sheer tights, crossed. A gentle hand holds the strap of your bag. Light academia at its finest; somewhat soothing, and somewhat radiant.
You look at him with an initially neutral expression, surprised that someone spoke to you, but more relaxed when you realise itâs him.
âOh,â you voice; the faintest autumn-tinted smile tugs at your lips. âHey! I, uhâŠâ Your gaze flits to the painting in front of you, then back to him. âNot at all actually. Which⊠surprising.â
You gesture towards him before you grant him more of your silky voice, asking, âDo you? Come here much?â
Your eyes are indecipherable to him, cheeks dusted in natural make up. All the damn time, you sport this relaxed, unbreakable mask, and he canât quite guess what you might be thinking about.
Itâs so easy with anyone else. Youâre like a scene from BBCâs Sherlock, embodying Irene Adlerâs mystery.
But maybe your guard can be broken, too.
âNot really,â he admits, âonly when pretty people are around.â
A weak attempt, but it makes your eyebrow cock in amusement. He knows you are, because the hint of mischief that scurries over your face resembles his own.
âAh, and you happen to know when pretty people are around. Or did you follow me here?â you, however, ask.
Itâs an obvious inquiry, but weirdly enough, he didnât expect it. You exhibit the first sign of a proper, humane emotion. Delivering three quick blinks, voice quiet, suspicion swims in your eyes, slightly irritated.
Or even⊠scared?
You canât truly be.
So he backtracks, slightly angling his head. He sighs â hiding how much his lungs crave a breath of air. He doesnât want to scare you off just yet.
âNo,â he defends, âof course not. I was just joking.â
âSo⊠Iâm not pretty?â
Oh. Oh?
Perhaps he misinterpreted your expression. Perhaps youâre merely a good actress; messing with him as he is with you. The smirk suggests this much, at least.
Perplexed, he holds his breath before letting out a choked laugh; the head tilt and click of his tongue carry a sliver of scolding before he admits, âThatâs pretty frustrating, I wonât lie.â
âIâm just kidding, too. Itâs a big exhibition. I expected a familiar face here.â
Why is there something so devilish about you?
He canât say; maybe he doesnât need to. Maybe itâs enough to join the game, to be just as cocky and see how you react.Â
Perhaps heâs being selfish and too certain of himself, and in the worst case, he might just be imagining the tension buzzing between you like sparks off an electric fence. But does he have anything to lose, really?
Barely ever.
âThen,â he begins, âis it a good face?â
âAll the art around us and you want me to admire you, huh?â
ââŠThe art wonât be mad if you do.â
Jungkook is bold, heâll admit. He hasnât always been â he remembers a time spent in the back of classes, preferring to eat lunch alone. Did college tug him out of his shell? Was it senior year?
Then again â did that one kill the timidness in his heart or rather the last shred of humanity?
Maybe his cold matches yours, too. Is that why he feels so drawn to you?
Because youâre as bold as him; you donât sugarcoat words and thoughts. And Jungkook appreciates the honesty, the ingredient to actual success â even if itâs achingly direct.
Like now.
You uncross your legs; your hips move in an elegant curve, and Jungkook attempts his best to keep his eyes off the arcs of your body. Focuses as you say, âYou shouldnât be flirting with a coworker, Mister Jeon.â
âWait. I thought we were warming up to each other. Donât demote me from Jungkook to Mister Jeon now.â You chuckle; thatâs something, right? âBesides, I was just conversing. We need to spend all our time together now, so better get along, right?â
Right. Right; of course heâs right.
But⊠what is that?
It lingers for the faintest of moments, just a glimpse of an unspoken feeling, gone with the next blink. In this crowd of unsuspecting visitors youâre the closest to him physically, but your thoughts are miles and centuries away.
âMaybe youâre right,â you still say, as if whooshing away all unwelcome sentiments, âthen I should not⊠dodge your conversation, right?â
âSure.â
âBehave, though.â
Heâs so confused â but not deep in this enough to question it. So he merely shrugs his shoulder before he responds, âI have been. I can converse, alright.â
âRight.â
âLike⊠first of all,â he steps closer, raising a hand, gesturing for you to walk on as new admirers of the modern piece approach, âtell me, have we met before? Feels like Iâve seen you somewhere.â
You halt in your steps, but immediately resume to the stroll when a stranger nearly bumps into you. âYouâre doing it again.â
Heâs honestly not. The aura surrounding you like an ominous fog is omnipresent and eerie, yet⊠you carry a sense of familiarity. But youâre a presence too distinct to ever forget.
Which doesnât help his case.
âYeah,â he still agrees before potentially embarrassing himself, kissing his teeth, âsorry. Iâll stop.â
âWhy are you the textbook definition of a fuckboy, honestly.â
âFuckboââ
âNevermind.â
If he wasnât well acquainted with this little game, he wouldâve missed your subtle, nearly veiled intent to tease. But heâs done this a million times before â hence, catches the faint twitch of your gorgeous lips immediately.
Youâre enjoying this. So he should join⊠right?
Yet.
Youâre not being entirely insincere. In fact, he hates how he picks up on the note of truth in your velvety voice.
Trimmed nails scratch the back of his head, and he barely notices when the two of you halt in front of another piece. Distracted, he doesnât bear the art any mind, instead asking, âYou really think of me that way?â
You shrug a shoulder. Nonchalance a constant feature, but so natural, even somewhat gentle, that he canât help but feel drawn to you. âA little.â
âWell, shit.â
âDonât overthink it. Enjoy the art.â
âSure.â
Reluctantly, he glances to the canvas. Itâs a mess of hues; a random arrangement of spontaneous emotions. Resembles the masterpieces he used to create in Microsoft Paint, back when his legs would still dangle off the chair.
âThen,â he starts, nodding towards the painting, âwhat do you see in this?â
You hesitate. Or maybe itâs not hesitation â more like⊠a thinking pause. Sometimes, when Jungkook notices a whirring mind, he sees a steaming brain through a skull. Working at full blast.
But somehow, he only sees a calm ocean as he observes you gather your thoughts. Everything about you is gentle, but wrapped in dark mystery. How much mental training does it require to become this inscrutable?
When you finally speak, youâre saying similarly strange things.
âI see⊠colours.â Right. Stating the obvious. Jungkook chuckles, delivering a head tilt. âAnd am wondering how the painter got to create this at all. I mean, this looks so meaningless at first, doesnât it?â
âAnd itâs not, yeah?â
âWeâre fast to think that. Most of the time, there must have been a trigger, or a thought about something, no matter how small. Something might have been bothering him. This isââ A soft hand gestures towards the painting. âSuch a chaotic mind.â
InterestingâŠ
âIs this what you usually think about all day?â Jungkook wonders.
You scoff. âIâm just a person, too. I think about a lot of random things.â
âOhhh. Like what?â
âLikeâŠÂ seeing all the green in this exhibit made me realise how this colour makes me cry.â
Jungkook takes a haphazard look around. Now that you say it â thereâs no hint of a nature theme, but the abundance of green is striking now. Itâs as calm as you. No wonder youâd immerse yourself in a showcase such as this.
You continue, as if tracing and reading his mind like an open novel, âItâs soothing, right? And unique. These earthly things sometimes make me feel like not all of us are deserving of seeing such beauty. Like it should be reserved for those who earn it.â
Earn it? How?Â
Jungkook canât see your thoughts as clearly as youâre apparently capable of doing, but he has an inkling of what you might mean. Truly dazzling souls merit the stunning bloom of the world, right?
And thenâŠ
If thatâs what it is.
He wonders â do you think he deserves to see the colour green? Or is it already over if he has to ask? Perhaps, should he be perceiving it as grey right now? He doesnât know.
He doesnât know how you think of him â doesnât know anything about you at all. Youâre a tough nut to crack.Â
âHmm⊠thatâs a way to think about it,â he says.
âOnly because itâs the same for people. And Iâve had this thought about humans a lot⊠IâŠâ You hesitate, blink, and then grant him your stare. âI knew someone who was the colour green. Not everyone deserved them, either.â
Poetic minds carry a certain pain in their eyes.
Heâs been seeing it in yours. He just doesnât know how to handle it. So he doesnât.
Instead, he asks, âWhat else are you thinking about?â
âUhmmm,â you voice, straightening your back a little, as if waking up from a dream â nightmare? âIâve been thinking about trying that, too. Painting, I mean. It doesnât have to mean anything or be good. Just a great way to capture something that resonates with what I feel.â
Every word youâve uttered today was otherworldly. You didnât talk like that when you were in his office, or at the meeting. Your soul is somewhat free-floating here, and he doesnât understand why.
And itâs a behaviour he usually strays away from. The vulnerable ones can be dangerous.
But somehow⊠youâre too strong of a magnet.
One who shrugs all the mystery away â and he sighs in despair. Maybe itâs not time to find out what you feel just yet. What resonates with you â even though heâs dying to hear it.
He inquires, âAre you always this open?â
âNo. Not at all.â Of course not. Rhetoric question â he knows this much. âBut I like thinking out loud sometimes.â
âIâm glad to be a sounding board then.â
âYeah. I was also thinking how I appreciate that I met you here.â Pause. Oh? What a surprise. Out of the blue, too. Strokes his ego, though. And then, unexpectedly again, âYou wanna go to the museum restaurant?â
Jungkook has barely seen half of the exhibition yet. But just for today, he couldnât care less.
Perhaps itâs enough for now, sitting in this overpriced restaurant, watching you from afar as you inspect your nails calmly. Youâre not busy on your phone like the rest of the crowd â entertained by the same media that heâs part of.
Maybe he can be a bigger part of their lives one day â be the one flitting over their screens, the one they adore. The one they worship.
But you donât seem to indulge in those mind-numbing devices for now. You might be an addition to his team, but privately, you float in your own world. Distracted by the thoughts you wonât disclose.
Your hands retreat, arms crossing on the table and lips curling into a smile once he strolls back to you. Satisfied, he informs you, âOne cake with the coffee. As the lady suggested.â
âOh,â you make, âdonât you want one?â
âI do.â
âSoâŠâ You stall, and he waits until it clicks, your head tilting in understanding. âAre we sharing?â
Jungkook lifts a thumb, pointing over his shoulder, back to the register, âThose chocolate cakes are sweet as heck. Iâve got a sweet tooth, but believe that itâll be enough for the two of us.â
You laugh â a sweet, disarming chuckle before you breathe an, âAlright.â
Jungkook doesnât know you well enough to feel any skip in his heart; yet, you stir something else in his mind. Itâs always people like you who intrigue him the most â those who veil themselves in a coat of secrets.
He sighs.
âThat was fast,â you note, eyes at a point behind him.
And he understands when the waitress arrives a couple moments later, two perfectly prepared lattes and a mouth-watering chocolate fudge slice. You thank her with a gentle smile, tuck a hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing the dangling earring.
And he watches.
Watches as you nod towards him, urging him, âStart then.â
Observes your smile as he signals you to start instead. And he gazes at you as your delicate digits reach for the fork, tearing off a piece, wrapping your lips around the utensil.
And then⊠God.
He feels his guts twist; hears all background noise fade; blood rushing away from his head, through his body as you slowly relish the sweetness and then drag your tongue over the fork. Licking away the leftover chocolate.
Jungkook swears it happens in slow motion. And witnessing your elegance at snail's pace⊠makes him sick.
When your eyelashes flutter, gape lifting to meet his, the sounds around him come alive again â as does he. He averts his stare from your mouth, covered in the same colour as the coffee, but you notice.
You see him looking. And it makes you⊠smile? Shit.
But you donât boast your effect; only digress as you say, âWell⊠tastes as fancy as it looks. Try it.â
Youâre as relaxed with him as you can be. But you always are; with everyone. He craves that bit thatâs only reserved for him â then again, maybe heâs too zealous too fast. He hasnât known you for long.
But making you smile must be an achievement. If only⊠you didnât think of him likeâŠ
He nods, and then leans over the table ever-so-slightly. His knees brush against yours, a soft but deliberate move. He places an elbow on the table, grasping the fork, close to you. If he lifted his hand, he could touch your cheek.
He wishes he could.
His eyes meet yours through his bangs, the cakeâs taste irrelevant to your presence. And when his ego doesnât let him relax, he finally asks, almost as if insulted, âDo you actually perceive me as a fuckboy?â
The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, furrowing your eyebrows, and then giggle before questioning back, âJungkook⊠itâs bothering you this much? Mmmh. How would you like to be perceived?â
âJust. As a decent guy who wants to get to know you. And I know you know.â You blink, but he doesnât buy it. So he elaborates, âIâve been trying to make clear that I find you lovely. And somewhat attractive.â
People usually display a flicker of glimmer in their eyes upon hearing such praise. But you donât quite budge; in fact, your eyes remain the same, if not a little darker. Why?
Yet, you cock an eyebrow, sporting a teasing, playful tone, âSomewhat, hm?â
He shakes his head, clicks his tongue. âYouâre pretty and I think you know,â he blurts, âand I donât want to screw up right away.â
Is it the habit of never failing? The urge to solve an enigma? The chance to dive into you until youâre bared to him? Why are you so interesting to him?
Youâre just a person.
Maybe itâs just the unsettling need to discover what youâre hiding â it wonât let him rest in peace. Thereâs something about you that screams to him to unravel. Makes him want you more.
He doesnât know what it is. Doesnât know if youâre even from the same world as him â even though you seem to have crossed his realm before. No matter what it is; Jungkook merely understands for now that he wants to take off your layers.
Wants to be the colour green for you.Â
âAhââ you voice.
âIn fact, Iâm not supposed to hang out here with you.â
ââŠHow come?â
âI should be with Tae,â he admits. Maybe heâs revealing more to you than he should â maybe he should adjust to your level of secrecy and wait. But this is frustrating him. âHe dragged me here, so I could get inspiration from all sides.â
You listen; perhaps not quite loving the idea of seeing him in such a way?
Fuck. Maybe it really was a mistake. No turning back now, though.
âHe said artists find motivation in art, too, and I do like to paint, soâŠâ He looks at his cup, still left to be tried from, and then stares up from the cream leaf that the barista formed in his coffee. âI didnât wanna come here, though. I already have an idea of what I want to do.â
âAndâŠâ you start, still not addressing the issue on hand; choosing to talk about something else for now, âhe doesnât like what youâve come up with?â
âI donât know. He doesnât know about it yet.â
You take a sip of your coffee, softly smacking your lips once to relish the taste. Youâre living proof that subtle gestures can make a mind race. Then you say, âMaybe you should introduce it to him then.â
âI will. Just⊠mmh, need a better grasp on it.â He throws a nod towards you. âI canât wait to show you either.â
Another sip of the seething liquid.
If the gentle hint of him being bent on your presence flatters you anyhow â stirs anything in you at all â you donât let it show. Are you, by chance, used to being swarmed from all sides?
Are his advances kindergarten to you?
You donât budge as he waits for you to respond, setting the cup back on your saucer before you inquire, âWhere is Taehyung, anyway then?â
âUh, Iâm sure heâs going around admiring the art?â Jungkook guesses, head reflexively moving to the side, as if his friend and co-worker could materialise out of thin air. âHe enjoys it even more than I do.â
âAnd you separated from him becauseâŠâ
Because Jungkook ascended a spiral staircase. Because he turned right and halted in front of the second instead of the first room. Because he recognised the familiar curves and edges, as intriguing as ever, from this far distance.
And told Taehyung to continue without him; that Jungkook was going to explore a different corner of the museum.
He tilts his head; his left eyebrow raises just a twitch, fingertips tapping the hot surface of the coffee cup. And then, charisma gathered in the middle of his pupils, he tells youâ
âBecause I found you.â
There it is.
The slightest of reactions.
Your eyes widen barely an inch, but he sees it. How your lips part a bit, even though you shouldâve expected his answer after the conversations hitherto shared. HmâŠ
âSo you did follow me,â you say.
He canât say if youâre joking or not. But all of a sudden, he wonders if heâs creeped you out. He opted for flirting so clearly, but⊠maybe you interpreted it vastly differently.
But he keeps himself relaxed; not faltering now when you arenât either. Answers, âIf you want to call it that. I call it finding you and then sticking with you. Youâre interesting, Miss Manager.â
You smile.
Genuinely, thoroughly, wholeheartedly.
The beam reveals more than any word couldâve today â that humanity slumbers somewhere in the crevices of your heart. Your eyes suggest it as much as your stance on art did.
Whatever might have scarred you in life, behind all that ache, you hide a delicate soul.
Green, green, green.
And your cryptic worry, uttered a moment later, doesnât bring him down from his sense of victory. No. Not now.
âYeah?â You cross your legs, letting out a breathy sigh. âThen I sincerely hope that doesnât change.â
[6:43PM] Jeon Jungkook: iâve been thinking about something. and of you
For a bedroom as sparsely decorated and light-coloured as Jungkookâs, he should be surrounded by a brilliant glow. And usually, he is.
The windows occupy half of the wall, the bedsheets a perfect white; had he texted you a couple hours prior, he wouldâve found himself in the gleam of a pale blue late winter sky. But if heâd tapped your name on his device earlier, he wouldâve indulged in a whole different mood, too.
Wouldnât have given into fatigued, delirious fantasies. Daydreaming about the curves of your lips and about the single strands of hair kissing your cheeks. Or the way you love exposing your neck, as if to taunt him.
Itâs right there, but you canât touch it, Jeon.
AndâŠ
And the mounds of your chest, slivers of it visible whenever you put on those heaven sent dresses. Their cuts are almost as deep as the ones damaging Jungkookâs brain. And not much for the sake of his sanity, the thirst isnât quenched just yet.
Crossed legs badly hidden under your see-through tights. The movement of your hips when you walk into his studio, placing yet another gruesome schedule onto his desk. Your scent when you lean into him, pointing to another meeting he barely recalls.
You⊠youâŠ
If Jungkook hadnât already cleaned up the sloppy mess previously covering his knuckles, trickling down his thighs, heâd possibly give into the urge to sneak his fingers back to where he craves them to linger.
No, you made that mess.
Of his sheets, of him. And you never needed to be here in the first place.
Jungkook is no fool â unlike many of his friends, he doesnât deny the way his body winds. He knows what he wants; and right now, he hungers for you. Wants you to eliminate the drought on his tongue; wants you to replace it with some taste instead.
âFuuuuck.â
The word drags into the emptiness of the room, filling the silence that someone else should be lifting. But youâre not here, and youâre not answering. Not yet, at least. Has it been seconds or minutes?
Too long, is all he knows.
His digits are cleaned thoroughly, but he canât shake the persisting feeling of sheer, dirty lust as they reach his phone again. Lighting up the screen, then curling inwards in frustration.
He repeats the desperate attempt of manifestation a couple times until he throws the device aside, nearly missing the mid-air vibrations, indicating the long-awaited message. Jungkookâs heart falls out of his ribcage and squeezes his guts; your name elicits far more than it should.
And he feels just a little guilty.
Because he doesnât deny himself any pleasure â so he knows this isnât love. This isnât starving for emotionality. Not for sentiments. What you pull out might be his ugliest, beastliest side; his mind is filled with images of you that he shouldnât be having.
Youâre so respected. So tender and kind. Intriguing, a riddle, but inhabiting secrets probably far darker than his thoughts. So he feels odd about the wanton desire; feels guilty.
But just for a bit. Just a little.
The message you sent back is too humble, too innocent. Sometimes he reckons youâre aware of your power, and sometimes he assumes you think of yourself as⊠ordinary.
But youâre not. And he wants to show you.
Just one touch, please.
âFuck, shut up, you creep,â Jungkook whispers to himself, scolding his treacherous mind before he reads again.
[6:52PM] You: Oh? Why would you be thinking about me? Of all people?
Should he wait? You did, too.
Or should he make as crystal clear as he can muster that heâs been waiting for you?
Screw it.
[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: what else should I be thinking of?
Your next response is immediate â youâre online. Waiting for him to answer.
Good.
[6:53PM] You: Your music?
[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: my music doesnât talk to me as much as you do these days
He smirks. Keeps the beam plastered to his face until the waiting becomes a little too long. Message on read, you leave the chat room empty of you and full of a nervy Jungkook. He opts out of it the same second, keen on patience before it fades again, bit by bit.
Because then, the thoughts flood in.
Are you rolling your eyes? Throwing the phone into a corner of your couch? Has he fucked up before anything could start?
But itâs been going so well. You talk to him every single day. Ever since the museum, the two of you have been orbiting each other; partly due to work, partly because heâs caught you smiling, too.
Your words are too sickeningly often accompanied by a soft touch of yours against his shoulders; against his arms. Sometimes, you brush his back, his eyes wide awake, the smile timid yet crushingly losing against your confident gaze.
All this must mean something.
âNah. Fuck it,â he mutters again, sighing over his own constant use of curses. âCome back.â
[6:55PM] Jeon Jungkook: actually⊠I did come up with one tune. Itâs just a skeleton of a song tbh, but I need a sounding board.
It takes another one minute for you to come back, and Jungkook angles his legs, relying on the movements of his body to ease the impatience. But thenâ
[6:56PM] You: Oh, and? [6:56PM] You: Sorry, I had to step away for a sec
Sigh of relief. Even though embarrassment annoyingly adds itself to the mix, an uninvited guest.
[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: âŠdo you wanna come to the studio?
[6:57PM] You: Right now? Itâs like⊠[6:57PM] You: 7pm
Unconsciously, Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, unbothered to the bone, just craving, craving, cravingâŠ
[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: a true artist never rests. [6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: and Iâd rather die than stop hustling for my passion
As the next message appears at the bottom of the screen, Jungkook canât help but bite into his lower lip with a certain pride. He nods as if he caught his prey, trapping it between his fangs.
[6:58PM] You: đLOL. now that, I admire, mister Jeon :) [6:58PM] You: Iâll finish my wine and be on my way
Oh.
Are you tipsy? Maybe heâs reading too much into it, but the emoji seems so unlike you; yet, you somehow manage to capture the core of what and who you are in the rest of the message. Six coherent words. Thatâs all it takes.
Goddamn.
Youâre so thoroughly you.
[6:59PM] Jeon Jungkook: wait. really?
And thatâs it. You disappear.
Perhaps youâre joking; perhaps youâre messing with him. The sun has already set; and he doesnât think heâs ever stayed with you much longer than dusk before.
If he met you in the evening, or on other nights, would you make more sense than you usually do? Are you the type to unravel when the world quiets down? Or the one to blend with the darkness more, drawing back further?
If thereâs pure truth in what you just said, devoid of all mockery you could revert to⊠he might find out. And it seems youâre in the right mood today, earnest with your intentions when he feels his phone vibrate against his thick thigh again, making him flinch.
[7:11PM] You: Yes? Iâm already dressed. Get your ass up
Oh shit.
Despite your order, his limbs still shut down. His muscles and bones melt into the bed, a fleeting image of your sly smirk crossing his mind and an assured voice surrounding his eardrums.
And if he didnât overthink each of your movements; didnât fantasise about the possible rise and fall of your voice, he wouldâve discarded his phone and gotten dressed a lot earlier.
How embarrassing.
The fact that his mind doesnât want to categorise this as a crush, no matter how much he asks. That his body responds to you like that, superficial and intrigued.
Embarrassing. He should focus on more important things.
Yet, he canât be bothered with the intruding sentiment, shame shoved aside and trampled under his feet as his car turns into a parking lot, perfectly in front of the buildingâs entrance. Your form is crystal clear in the dark; not even the shadows and lack of light can hide your silhouette.
The radar sensor beeps when he creeps too close to the hood of the car behind him, and he mumbles a curse, averting his eyes from your unmoving self to focus on proper parking. Letting the roaring engine die.
Your shoulders are slightly raised when he approaches you at the door. One hand is stuffed in the pocket of your thin, baby pink coat, the other curled into a fist, possibly resisting the urge to enter the building and combat the cold.
You couldâve waited inside, too. UnlessâŠ
Maybe youâre excited to see him, too.
You smile, lips reaching far up; he tries his hardest to believe heâs right. Takes the gesture as a good omen, and the hair pulled up in a loose bun as a sign of hurry. You look domestic, comfortable in your skin, no matter whoâs around.
But somewhere between the comfort and the softness, thereâs that everlingering intrigue, too. And⊠some timidness. Showing in the crossed legs his eyes drift over, up to the short skirt barely visible underneath the coat.
And your face⊠so natural. More than usual. Mascara only? He doesnât know.
All he knows is that he needs to say something.
âHey.â
âHi,â you throw back, tilting your head in tease, âwhere were you? Took you long enough to get here.â
He steps closer; fiddling with his jacketâs pocket, fishing for the keys. And his proximity changes something about you so subtly, a miniscule movement. Hand digging deeper into your coat.
Youâre on guard for some reason. And he canât help but admit heâs on guard with you, too, albeit in a less physical and more mental way. The unfathomable, dichotomous sensation of wanting you near, wanting you far is killing him.
What are you hiding?
If he could, heâd speak it out loud.
âI had to freshen up,â he finally responds, âI honestly didnât expect you to say yes.â
Your body might be in protection mode, but your voice is as composed, even somewhat amused, as always, âWell.â You shrug your shoulders. âI donât see why. But Iâm here now, and honestly⊠a little cold?â Nodding towards the door, âShould we go inside?â
âYeah. Sorry.â
He sniffles, fishing for the chip to unlock the door. For an ephemeral second right before walking inside, your breath lingers incredibly close to his own, grazing his lip ring. âDonât forget to dress warm this season.â
Near enough for his fingers to succumb to the impulse and sidle to you, skimming your thigh so featherlightly. He thinks he hears the sharp inhale you suck in. His skin tickles, the shiver icy on his body. He watches you smirk, lowering your head; his fingertips insist on the vicinity just for the tiniest seconds before he says,
âOkay. Let's go inside before you catch a cold, silly.â
But the bitter frost permeates the hallways of the company in the same ruthless manner. Perhaps somebodyâs still lingering around in the daunting dark. Revising steps in the mirrored practice rooms or hovering above lyrics and tunes, neck bent and back tired.
But the building isnât heated; and it shows in your rather quick steps, an arm wrapped around your chest to rub the layers above your arm. The guarded demeanour doesnât match your usual confidence; aside from the hollow hallways, it seems that youâre scared of more than just the cold.
He doesnât point it out. And he doesnât stare for too long.
If he did, you might realise.
Instead, he saunters to the elevator with you in tow, delighted about the light that never changes in the small rectangular space. You let your hand drop to your purse, lazily toying with its zip, and turn your head to observe the closing doors.
And Jungkook observes you.Â
The glow of your cheeks in the bright beam, half of your face devoid of the hair tucked behind your ear. As you breathe in, your lips split a fraction, and their gentle, soft curves mesmerise him for a moment too long.
Itâs difficult and cruel, being around you. Haunting, agonising, aggravating.
And when your eyes align with his again, sparkling a little in line with your tender smile, Jungkook realises that heâs been holding his breath. Because it escapes between the seam of his mouth in a sudden push, his knees nearly buckling.
He resists the urge to bite into his fist, instead disguising his thoughts when he covers his mouth, teeth digging into his plump, lower lips.
âSo,â he quickly adds, leaving no space for you to question his eccentricity, but you initiate another convo in the same tiny second, âItâsâŠâ
You pause, withholding your statement in order to listen to his. But he shakes his head, lifting a hand to sign for you to continue. So you say, âItâs a little scary here at night.â
Okay. Not that tough of a topic.
âRight?â he confirms. âI always imagine getting here and hearing a hum thatâs not really there.â
âUhâŠâ You blink in disbelief, lifting your eyebrows, but when he shrugs your confusion away, your hesitation marker turns into a chuckle. âWhy the hell would you say that?â
âItâs just something I imagine. Itâs terrifying, but my mind goes places, and I never ask it to.â
âWell, itâs a mean thing of your mind to do.â The ding of the elevator distracts you, and when you step out, your thoughts remain at an afar spot. Kept inside your pretty little head until you whisper, âAnd? Have you ever heard it, then?â
âHm? The hum?â You nod, and he suppresses the snicker your curious, cocked eyebrow nearly elicits. âNo. Only myself. Humming helps me control my breathing, so I do it to practise.â
âWeird. Itâs so different from how Iâd imagine you.â
Huh. Seems heâs not the only one sketching your entire being to keep himself awake at night.
âHow would you?â he asks.
âAs a rockstar?â
âOh?â Thatâs new. âAs a future RnB slash pop sensation I find this officially peculiar. Why a rockstar?â
You cock an eyebrow; either digesting the confident prophecy or pondering his question. The crooked smile matches his own signature smirk a little, and you puff out a breath before your sombre yet sparkling eyes wander an inch further down, right to his mouth.
Your eyelashes are endless, on their way to brush those delicate apples of your cheeks â in reality, itâs an impossible fantasy written in novels and poems, but itâs exactly how it looks. Exactly how much your curious gaze drops.
Only, the tingling sensation in his chest soon subsides, freeing a path to the realisation that heâs yet again misunderstanding. Because youâre not drawn by his lips, but rather considering a response.
He sighs in subtle disappointment when you point to the shiny metal encircling his lower lip, telling him, âGotta be the piercing.â
âAh. Ahhh. Well. First off, this is a very stereotypical assumption.â You shrug your shoulders in amusement, watching him cram for his chip until he halts in front of his studio, keeping you in his vision. âAnd secondly.â
The lock of the door clicks as he swipes the chip across the reader, defined knuckles paling a bit when he pushes the handle down. He raises his chin by a fraction, pulling out the most-assured smile, and asks, âDo you like it?â
And you, composed as ever, respond, âIt suits you. I always wonder how comfortable these are, though.â
âWhy?â
âI donât know, like. Do they have a metal taste? Do you ever get hyper aware of them and then get annoyed and want them off? Are they⊠cold?â
He laughs. Thereâs something endearing about how your voice quietens further the more your curiosity grows. Youâre not quite looking at him, pupils focused on a random spot, hands expressive as you vocalise your thoughts.
âLetâs see,â he mutters, jacket thrown over a chair, âsometimes and, again, sometimes. It feels a bit cold right now because itâs cold outside. I meanâŠâ
He rubs the chill off his tattooed arm, fingers diving under the short sleeves of his white, oversized t-shirt. Attempts never faltering, he leans into you in intrigue, parting his lips before running his tongue over the jewellery.
âDo you just. Wanna touch it and find out for yourself?â
You blink, frozen in place.
The room isnât too spacious; Jungkook will get his very own studio, name tag and all once he reaches a clear peak. For once, heâs glad about the crowded room, girded by a guitar on the wall, chairs standing side by side, a little couch leaning against the back of the wall.
As ever, he canât decipher your mood; as ever, youâre still quick to answer, âI⊠no. Itâs okay.â
Why donât you want him?
Goddamn it.
âOkay,â he simply utters, shrugging his vexation away. âLetâs get started then.â
The excitement in his tone dips, seemingly aloof, but as he walks into the dark square of silence, reaching for the headphones he placed right here mere hours ago, wordless curses dangle off the tip of his tongue.
He makes sure you donât see the clench of his jaw or the fast and steady fall of his ego, but youâre shoving back the chair and adjusting anyway. Crossing tight-clad legs as you place your coat on your lap, throwing your mane to one side to free that damned neck.
It must be on purpose.
He waits for you to settle, the headphones on the table in front of you enveloping your head. They look way too big on you, and Jungkook canât decide whether to tut at his anguish or swoon at your stellar being.
Jungkook uses his headphones to communicate through the glass, raising a thumb to ask, âReady?â You nod, matching his gestures with your own. âBe honest, how professional do I look?â
Carding the fine hair back, he pushes a hand into the pocket of his pants, taking a stand in front of the boom microphone. He mimes a typical grimace of an immersed artist, letting out an immediate, sweet chuckle that you chime in joyfully.
You lean in, long earrings brushing your jaw, pressing down the button for the talkback mic to assure through the intercom, âYou look like a born star.â
He rolls his eyes, playfully clicking his tongue, âAhhh, thatâs a nice yet basic thing to say, but. Iâll take it.â
âWhy did you go in there anyway? Werenât you just going to show me a song?â
âAdlibs, baby. Iâm still missing those.â He adjusts the headphones again, clearing his throat, almost in position. âBut I didnât warm up my voice, so Iâll need to re-record them anyway.â
âAnd still youâre straining your voice becauseâŠ?â
âWeâre here to impress you, so let me.â
Your finger lifts off the button, but the movement of your lips suggests to him undoubtedly what your teasing self might be mumbling.
Oh damn. Sorry then, boss.
You raise your hands in defeat until you detect his beguiled smile, raising your eyebrows in a clear question that he answers with two words; a simple title of a song, not as glorious as the tune itself but hopefully as memorable.
Eyes scurrying across the now opened laptop screen, you search for the instrumental until you stumble upon it. 3:54 minutes of what Jungkook prays to be blasted everywhere in a couple weekâs time before the big concert, chiming in his ears.
The initial guitar riff drowns the room in a mixture of intriguing anticipation and uncurbed sentiments immediately. Jungkookâs eyes dart to your face, attempting to decode a reaction. And when you notice, hands on the headphones, you nod approvingly.
Most of his vocals are already recorded to perfection; a silky voice laments about a lost time with purity. Jungkook largely listens in, searching for wonky bits or moments to be re-tackled. Of course, he will need to discuss the details with Taehyung tomorrow, but whenever the passion burns the hottest, he canât help but add an adlib here and there.
As he sings, his eyes reflexively close, and for a couple dozen seconds, the melodic current pulls him towards a bigger ocean; the sense of freedom and possibility is astonishing. Thereâs a certain ardour he feels towards music that nothing will ever be able to elicit.
Do you feel the same?
As somebody spending day in, day out surrounded by musicians, does that phenomenon make your heart surge, too?
Maybe.
When he looks at you again, itâs at least something fervent he detects in your gaze. A bit like the longing he feels. Intense fondness, or perhaps, even zoning out â until youâre barely blinking anymore.
Your features relax a little more as the song proceeds, bit by bit, the calmest when the ending notes arrive. Jungkook observes you; freezes at his spot. The change from the built-up chorus to the suddenly calm ending, instruments dying, are as forgotten as the last touches⊠because you, behind the glass, are much more interesting.
Just staring. Looking at the screen, its brightness reflecting in your pupils. When you blink again, most of the preceding smile is gone, something indecipherable in your eyes.
He doesnât know whether you actually enjoyed the entire thing or became consumed by memories he doesnât know of. Some the song might have drawn out but shouldnât have. Thereâs⊠a past in your stare.
He knows because much like the vast existing humanity, heâs been tending to faraway memories for years, too.
And he wants to know about yours.
Gently, Jungkook grasps the headphones covering his ears, the mane victim to the impact before his fingers fix it again. He frees his eyes off his strands, never directing them away from you, and when he opens the door to the small room you drifted off in, you look up.
Your emerging smile is unsuspecting and polite as always, and you deliver a tilt of your head. Jungkook could sign the previous oddness off as just this, or a sinking into arts just as he does sometimes.
But whatâs enough is enough; brushing questions off his mind has become tedious.
So he rolls back the second chair next to you to take a seat, placing his arm on the one of the furniture before folding his fingers; leaning in, asking, âYou okay?â
You react with a soft nod, a tender hum, âYeah! I was listening.â
âAre you sure?â
âOf course.â
âYou zoned out.â
âWhich is a good thing, I promise.â
Jungkook looks for a moment. Waits for you to break or admit that the truth you display might not be as pure as you think; waits for his instinct to wind up correct.
But when you do nothing of that sort, eyes a resolute and solid statement, he sighs. Tongues at the lip ring for a moment before he clears his throat and questions, âGood thing, yeah? What else do you think?â
âIt⊠goes deep,â you confess, an impressed declaration in your expressions, âwhat are you talking about in that one? I mean, I know, but⊠it sounds so personal.â
âMore or less? Iâve spent most of the last few years dedicating myself to this job. The training, the late night sessions, the failure and lost time. I wanted to depict those hardships.â He nods, emphasising his points. âI want this song to help me look back one dayâŠâ
He shrugs his shoulders, thumbs slowly circling around each other, âAnd comfort my older self that despite the hectic life, things are okay.â
âI see.â
Your tone is neutral, but your chest rises and falls a little too slowly. Your sorrow is quiet. He closes the distance further, nudging your arm, âHey. Did you not like it?â
âI did,â you defend, honesty and reassurance in your voice, âI do. You have an amazing voice, come on, whatâs not to like. And the sound is incredible. Should you manage to release it, it will be celebrated a lot.â
âI will manage to release it,â he says with furrowed eyebrows, resisting the urge to touch your elbow again, but settling on simply calling your name instead, âyouâre part of my team. Letâs be optimistic.â
âI am. Teamwork makes the dream work. Etcetera.â
âRight,â Jungkook breathes, word close to a yawn. He throws his body back in the cushioned chair, manspreading as much as the space allows; stretches his arms until his muscles crack. âAhhh⊠I really want this to be good.â
His gaze falls to the darkening laptop, soon giving way to pitch darkness, potentially to some screensaver. The title of the song remains still in the opened audio file, and he smacks his lips, blinking only when you voice an approving, âMhmmm.â
His head darts to you the moment you deliver a subtle nod towards the computer, deducting, âYou really strive to be big.â
Well, yeah. Thatâs been the plan. Always, always.
âShouldnât I?â he argues. âItâs a dream.â
âItâs good to have dreams.â
âThatâs right. Mine is to⊠Stand on a bigger stage. I think Iâve reached a solid group, but I think if I keep working hard and with the right team, I can make it?â
âThis determined, yeah?â
âYeah,â he responds with a hint of obvious self-evidence, slight confusion shadowing his mind â have you never wanted something so badly? âThe audienceâs eyes glued to me. Donât you have a dream?â
Another deep inhale of air, chest working hard, as if youâre breathing out fatigue. He prepares for another vague answer that might leave him guessing; and albeit clearly seeing the usual curtain veiling your true thoughts, what you say next makes his ears perk up.
âHonestly. Iâll allow dreams again once Iâve moved on. Thatâs all I want.â
What?
Did you actually want to say that? Was it on purpose? A slip of the tongue?
Because it seems so unlike you. Reveals too much. He doesnât think youâve exposed your innermost thoughts like this before, even if still not quite transparent.
ââŠFrom what?â The previously relinquished distance dies when he inches closer again, digits sneaking close to your knee. A fingertip floats over your tights. âHey. Is something bothering you?â
âUgh,â you say; the sliver of sadness seamlessly transitions into an expression of nonchalance when you wave your concerns off so quickly. âYoung adult stuff.â
Nevertheless, you speak on. The biggest development in this friendship between the two of you yet. âI once had a friend that moved away. We were pretty close, and now sheâs far away. Which sucks.â
âIâm sorry.â
Thatâs it.
Jungkook offers to listen, but he doesnât necessarily deem himself the most expressive guy when it comes to emotions like these; even if he so deeply wishes to read your thoughts. Music is different; speaking to an audience is, too. Articulating gratitude isnât as difficult as extinguishing someone elseâs grief.
And while not quite confronted with anguish, he houses demons that still haunt his nights; he can barely obliterate them.
Maybe he doesnât need to.
Maybe he can comfort you in the only way heâs ever known. The stupid, selfish way; offering relief and distraction in the most sinful manner.
âListenâŠâ Jungkook starts, but in all honesty â there isnât much to say.
Only to crave. To look.
At the curve of your lips. The distance between them. The bare wrist needing to be held, tired eyes wanting to replace the sorrow with something else.
Is he an asshole for wanting to annihilate your heavy breaths of dejection and replace them with sighs of his name instead?
He doesnât know. He barely hears his thoughts. Only the blood rushing to his ears, and then away from his head, down his body.
Fuck.
The levitating finger drops an inch; you gasp almost inaudibly when the tip touches your knee, skin separated by the tights only. Jungkook loves fashion choices like these, but hates the hurdle right now.
His warm palm opens, placing right above your knee, approaching the meat of your thigh. He knows youâre not breathing because he canât hear the exhales; and when his eyes, hooded and possibly insane, flit up to you, he recognises the change in your pupils.
You gulp; and then finally push out some air again. Your hand moves to his inked wrist, touching lightly, unsure what to do. But when you donât resist, his other arm lifts, touch moving to your face, holding it.
The world spins, moving like an earthquake as his mouth draws nearer. You let out a miniscule sound that punches him in the guts; sweet and pure.
He wants to shatter and wreck you so bad; wants you to feel the same poison youâve fed him. Irresistible, deadly.
But just as the metal of his jewellery grazes your lips, the softness and warmth radiating towards him, your breath shakes. Your face budges enough for his upper lip to feel a brush against yours, but thatâs all he gets.
Because you retreat without giving in. And he doesnât know why.
He clenches his jaw. God fucking hell. Whatâs your problem?
The sense of failure overwhelms him. Failure. Failure.
Thatâs not the term his mind should conjure. He knows the moral compass hides somewhere in his dark heart; he knows. Yet, he can never give into it. Is he a bad person? He doesnât know.
Control was never his domain, after all.
But he keeps those intrusive thoughts inside, intending to not scare you off more than he already might have. So he accepts the dodging of the kiss, moving back, immediately leaving you safe from his touch.
And then, he says, âUhmâ Iâm sorry.â
You donât answer, still catching your breath, back to the heavy sighs that he was going to help shove back. Once again, he tries, âHonestly, I apologise, I justâŠâ
âNo, no. Please, donât be sorry,â you reassure, slightly touching his shoulder. A wave of relief washes over him. âIâm just. Not in the right mindset for it yet. But Iâm flattered, really.â
âOkay.â He nods. His eyes drop to his fingers; he still feels your heat on his skin, basks in it for a moment. But when the awkward silence lingers, he suggests, âThen. Letâs call it a night and Iâll see you tomorrow?â
âYeah. Yeah, sounds good. Iâm definitely getting tired.â
âMe too.â
Jungkook rises from his seat, still unable to wrap his head around what happens â or almost happened. Maybe another time. Grabbing your coat from behind you, he helps you into it, avoiding your eyes, trying not to showcase his frustration.
Uncertain what to say, he reverts back to small talk, stating, âThanks for still coming so late. You really do like the song, yeah?â
âJungkook⊠itâs honestly very good.â
You smile; thereâs something about your honesty. About the way you say his name. And how hopeful you truly seem for him. How much you seem to mean it when you sayâ
âIf thereâs anyone who can manage to wrap the world around their finger, itâll be you, Jungkook.â
âAlright. I think I have an answer to your question now.â
You down the sip of red wine with a delicate smack of your lips, blinking at the change in topic. The evening has followed a pleasant pace so far, conversations well balanced; even though you still carry a sense of caution that Jungkook sees no reason behind.
Perhaps itâs the fact that after weeks of subtle, flirty undertones and advancing attempts youâve taken the seat on his couch as heâs imagined for so long now. Maybe he still exudes something that screams for caution; maybe thatâs just who you are.
Jungkook, for one, is just glad to receive any kind of recognition from you. But heâd be a fool to not insert all his effort into tonight, from the food to the type of drinks and conversations. He knows where he needs to be and he wants you to want it, too.
âWhat question?â you ask.
Itâs just.
Despite the lightness with which you carry your talks, some of your movements feel off, detached from your body. Not quite matching the grace your face portrays; just that one hint. The one hiding in your fingers, tapping the dark screen of the phone resting on your thigh.
As if youâre waiting for a call or something to happen that Jungkook isnât aware of. Who knows. Nothing has happened in the last hour, so this might be an unconscious gesture reasoned in nothing but an absent or distracted mind.
Yeah.
Youâre probably not even aware of it and heâs just overthinking it.
He takes a breath, inhaling the aroma of the almost finished wine, âWhat Iâd do if I could spend a day in a virtual reality.â
âWait, does the Wembley Stadium doesnât count anymore?â
Jungkook smirks, dismissing his own prior answer with a click of his tongue. âCâmon. Does it really? You can ask literally any artist ever and thatâs what theyâll say.â
You ponder his response, pursing your lips in thought, and then shrug one shoulder. Nodding along, you acknowledge, âRight. So what is it then?â
âIâd just.â He sucks air through his teeth sharply, leaning back with a signature smack of his lips. âGet into a reality in which this damn song is already finished and mixed and ready to be released.â
This song referring to the concoction of sounds he showed you earlier, yet to be concretised and burnished to what he truly envisions. Itâs the only song left that shackles him to the studio; at the upcoming concert, heâll just sing the demo version as a sneak peak if needed. What a source of stress.
But you donât see it as much of a struggle; youâve told him a dozen times that hard work justifies a slip-up. That the progress on his album balances out the artistâs block.
Possibly why you laugh his worry off without mocking it, merely throwing back, âIâm disappointed.â
Oh?
âWhy?â
âJust because â the Wembley answer was better.â
Unexpected and sudden â much like the snicker you elicit, throwing his head back just a little. Concurring, he sighs, âOkay, okay. What about you then?â He cocks an eyebrow. âYou didnât tell me what youâd do.â
âYou didnât ask,â you remind him, already slurring your speech a bit, though still remaining a stable and solid stance, âdunno. You want the sappy or the basic answer?â
âIs the sappy one a tear-jerker? Sounds like it.â
âFor sure.â
âThen the basic one. Donât dig being sad.â
âThought so,â you answer, and Jungkook holds back from prodding again this time, despite wondering what image he gets across, âalright. Iâd do things Iâm unsure of in real life. Like bungee jumping.â
âOh? Kinda did not expect this.â
âNo?â
âJust having a hard time imagining somebody as calm as you jumping off a building. Or yelling.â
You roll your eyes. âAnyway. Iâd love to go, but Iâm too scared of the risks. Like, rope stuff. Donât want to be jumping for the last time.â
âOkay, yeah, but,â Jungkook starts, hesitating, âI mean, you could say that about anything. You leave your apartment and get hit by a car and then youâd be going out for the last time.â
You begin shaking your head mid-sentence, already drawing a breath, ready to disagree. Then, âThatâs a bad comparison. These things are a once in a lifetime experience.â
âIâm just saying! Why hold back from things that excite you.â
ââŠMaybe youâre right.â
Jungkookâs proud nod and hum are reciprocated with a soft smile, fleeting when you roll your eyes back to your phone briefly. Absent-mindedly, you drag a fingertip across the deviceâs side as Jungkook follows your movements.
Yet, unsure what you might be harbouring in this pretty head of yours, he doesnât ponder but asks, âWhat was the sappy thing?â
Itâs as if you live multiple lives, hiding them in your innermost parts; because once he finishes his question, your sparkle returns, and you smirk a little, suddenly leaning forward.
Wordlessly, you fish a tissue out of the square, wooden box, puzzling him for a second until he understands right before you clarify, âFor the upcoming tears.â
His titter is immediate, a reflex. You might be relaxed as a calm river, but your humour does shine through among your other million traits. He shakes his head in rejection, smile still plastered to his lips, and watches you lean back again, clearing your throat.
âMhh, Iâd say,â you muse, âIâd try to get into a simulation of Heaven. Try to meet those I miss.â
âOh⊠damn.â
âYeah.â
ââŠI donât know what to say.â
But despite the dumbstruck silence, his mind does conjure prompt associations. Like when the two of you sat in his studio just two weeks ago, you engrossed in his music yet somehow dissociated from reality.
You spoke about lost and faraway people back then, too. And he didnât ask then, either.
In the depths of his mind, he wants to believe that youâre trying to lead him somewhere, fishing for his hand but never quite reaching it. Drawing back right before pleading for help; or perhaps wanting to make him understand a thought he canât fathom in the way you form it.
The pattern is repetitive, loud â but he knows youâll retract the moment he does lean into you, offering his ear to your worries and thoughts.
He canât win.
âThatâs okay,â you say, making up for his lack of proper empathy, and thatâs where you leave it. Not hesitating, not indicating another hint to lead to your mind.
Yet, he clears his throat quietly, licking drying lips, and asks in attempt to grip the truth, your whatever-truth, âAnd, whoâd be there? Do you want to talk about that?â
âMmmmh,â you hum, pondering, before you treat him with the same disappointment heâs suffered throughout the last weeks, âno. I think Iâm good.â
Unbelievable, and truthfully, frustrating.
Are you playing this side of yours? Is it an act? Are two sides of you fighting within you?
âOkay,â he simply responds, clearly agitated but unsure whether you notice. Youâre looking at your phone again. He sighs. âAnd⊠Do you believe in that stuff? Heaven, Hell, stuff like that.â
You shrug a bare shoulder. âDunno. I like to think thereâs something, but then again I donât.â
âHow so?â
âThe way I see it, itâs kinda simple,â you explain matter-of-factly, âsome people are good enough to deserve a place in Heaven once theyâre gone. And some people are terrible enough to burn for eternity.â
Coming from your sweet mouth, uttered in an equally soft tone, the sentence feels jarring. Jungkook has had these thoughts before; heâd be a hypocrite to judge you for yours, recalling moments when he wondered where heâs destined to land once heâs left this realm.
And somehow, it was never the prettier option.
Still, he utters, disguising his own past pondering, âWow. Thatâs dark.â
âItâs true. Thereâs some serious crime in the world.â
Agreed. Perhaps, compared to the extreme sins, he can be forgiven. Right? MaybeâŠ
âYeah,â Jungkook accords, âthen, why did you say that sometimes you donât like believing in it?â
âI mean, if thereâs actually something like Hell, and I happen to fuck up throughout life⊠I donât wanna end up there.â
Itâs like youâre mirroring his thoughts.
Even if he never quite thought about it to such an extent. Even though his idea of the afterlife built on what heâs already done, and not what heâs still going to do.
But your words give a subtle hope that redemption is possible. Who knows. Who really knows.
Perhaps itâs easiest to stray away from these thoughts and focus on you at this very moment. Even if itâs you triggering innermost fears; he doesnât quite have a clue how you do it.
No matter. Heâll focus on you. Altruism might be the first step to vindication. Karma points. Karma points.
âValid,â he says kindly, âcanât imagine you fucking up, though.â
âHow would you know?â
âThe company grapevine whispered a lil something about you.â
âAhhhââ
âGood things! Other than that, I just think. Donât know.â A small gap, well-hidden so far, grows in the back of his mind, tiptoeing to the very front of his mind. Before heâs thought it through, he blurts, âIâll be honest with you.â
Your ears perk up, eyes suddenly wide.
What was that?
Okay. Whatever. Canât stop his speech now, âUhm, Iâll be honest and say that Iâm not the best person I know. Like, Iâm aware of that. Itâs why sometimes, I donât really understand how people can be as genuine as you.â
âŠHas he said too much? Or not enough? Because he could swear your face deflates, expression dimming, as if you expected something else.
And all you say is, âI understand.â
A flicker of slight panic creeps into his overthinking head, not usually a trademark of his personality. But you look dispirited, even if just for a second. He tries further.
âAnd from what Iâve seen, you go through life gently. The way you do anything is how you do everything, right?â
âHmmm,â you voice again, pupils hidden until you look up. And when you do, he breathes a sigh of relief; deep and obvious, and he doesnât care if you notice. Smiling sweetly, you tell him, âYou said that really well.â
The way you say it is riddled with woe, but within a second, your eyebrows relax, mouth forming an authentic grin. Displaying real emotions suits you better than the mask of the frigid ice queen you keep plastered to your face; you look different right now.
Vulnerable.
And it makes him want you more.
Does it have something to do with the warm light he chose for this room? No. It doesnât shine brightly enough to really illuminate your face that much. With the intensity lowered beforehand, some of your features hide in the dark when you lower your head a little.
And itâs not the decent amount of alcohol the two of you slurped.
Itâs the usual, mysterious shimmer in your eyes, begging to take off more of your mental layers. The fragility behind the pretence of invincible strength. No doubt, youâre still a textbook definition of a femme fatale.
Still, thereâs some sweet urge to surrender, visible in your stance. A fragrance luring him in. Warm skin close to his; calling for his fingers.
And heâs at your beck and call, ready and motivated; giving into your wanting eyes â or is that his own desire heâs confusing? â and leaning in. A little more with each tiny moment, advancing until the tips of your noses meet.
Your warmth consumes him; your breathing quickens, resulting in fitful exhales that he takes in with vigour, much drowning in his own head until you gasp and he realisesâ
âSorry,â he mumbles, not yet retracting. His hand touches your knee, carefully but with intention. Waiting, he asks, âIs that okay for you?â
ââŠIâm not sure.â
Your answer takes a seat on his ego and weighs it down. Harsh, sudden, perhaps not unexpected but definitely breaking a string of patience within him. But consent is consent; he understands. Heâs grown now.
YetâŠ
âFuck,â he whispers under a faint sigh, dejected and confused.
And you hear it. Bambi-eyed, you ask, âWhat?â
âNothing. Nothing at all.â
Heâd lie if he suppressed the disappointment. Working towards you for weeks was supposed to end in realising his fantasies into a palpable, actual feeling, with a side achievement of a deeper connection.
You donât seem to want to provide it; he understands, but the agitation courses through him like a fire burning up a forest. The trees are his nerves; alight with different emotions. Youâre fumbling with the soft cotton of your winter dress, and he averts his eyes.
Shutting them for a moment, he ponders his options; does he continue the awkward conversation? Or perhaps, ask you for your opinion straightforwardly? Maybe, after all this while, it wouldnât be so stupid to swap a penny for your thoughts.
And his mouth opens, but it seems youâre faster. Crushing his questions and uncertainties when he hears you gulp, witness to another change of mind as your knee shifts forward. His eyes open rapidly, and when he looks at you again, youâve moved closer.
Your leg touches his thigh; your eyelids half fallen, lips an inch apart and fingers hesitating, yet advancing towards him. Hope sparks and sparkles in him anew, and he suppresses the cheeky, triumphant smile.
He feels like an asshole. Oh, he feels so selfish â but he canât be the only one. He cannot possibly be the first or last to give into deepest desires out of self-interest.
Carefully, he matches your pace, moving into your direction much like you are drawing into his. His hand lifts to your arm, and you suck in a breath as he touches your skin, your chest rising and falling deeply.
And his eyes observe. The motion drives him crazy. He wants to pilot his touch to this spot, wrap his palm around your mounds, desperate to feel your nipples perk up under his skin, your mouth fall wider.
Should he? Maybe, maybeâ
Not yet.
Instead, he draws an invisible line with his fingertips, up your arm and to your shoulders until he reaches your neck. The sound you let out is so tiny he barely hears it, and you tilt your head to the other side, giving him free reign over your skin.
A spark lights up under his finger, as if heâs touched a defective bulb. He wonders if you feel the same flame when he charges for your jawline, tracing it for a moment before he moves to your seething hot cheek.
Youâre burning up.
So he asks in a quiet, gravelly voice, somehow much lower than usual, âAre you okay?â
Your eyebrows are furrowed, and he starts to worry again; but maybe thatâs just the same tension unleashing that heâs felt, too. The temptation runs deep; he could scream it out of his lungs and it wouldnât be enough.
Relieved as you nod, he mimics the movement, whispering an, âOkay,â before he then dips forward, exhaling close to your neck hotly and⊠leaves a small kiss right there. He doesnât know about you, but if you did that to him, heâd possibly faint.
One more kiss, and suddenly, your hand is on his knee. His head spins. Must be the alcohol. Must be you.
And youâre probably in no better state, judging the hot cheeks and the slight sway of your body. Must be the wine. Must be him.
And when his lips graze your jaw, your fingers curl in, clawing onto his knee, and his inner voice celebrates, âJackpot.â
But not really. Heâs going with the flow, exploring your preferences, but this needs to be the night of your life. His mind and ego want you to perceive it that way. So what should he do? What do you like?
Are you one to push him into the bed, holding his shoulders down? Straddling him keenly, pouncing on him, eyes rolled back?
Or do you give away all the power you usually emanate; hands bound with a tie, legs struggling between a rope, screams muffled under a gag? Do you wind and go crazy when somebody has their way with you, edging and then overstimulating, refusing a touch and then slapping your ass woundâŠ
Should he let your siren eyes tempt him into submission or will you be the one drilled into his mattress with a hand around your neck and a trail of black mixed with tears under your eyes?
He doesnât know. Because youâve disguised all of you; hidden your mind behind a mask of absolute neutrality, hard to decipher. He can usually read women so easily. They lick their lower lips when they want him under them, and quiver when vice versa.
Heâd oblige to either for you. So what does it matter in the end, anyway?
No, it doesnât.
His tongue that lashes out, however, does matter. Tasting your skin as it drags over your chin and then to your mouth. Insane when he reaches your lower lip and you sigh, then back to your neck, blowing, teasing, still not kissing you⊠touching your thigh, moving inwardsâŠ
âWhat do you want me to do?â he asks.
And this time, while still a little quiet, you finally say, âMore. You can do more.â
âYeah?â
You nod as if starved, relieved when his hands leave your leg and venture further in. Itâs hidden under your dress, but somehow, not seeing your full glory just yet, but observing your reactions to his movements, stirs his thoughts. If any were left, that is.
The touch to your panties is light, tender as he reaches the hem, driving a finger underneath it in exploration. You donât say much, but he sees the zeal in your eyes, murmuring a little, âMhmâŠâ
And when he finally presses against the fabric slowly dampening, lightly as he rolls his digits right where your skin so incredibly softens⊠you moan. You moan.
It doesnât sound the way he imagined. But it kind of does. He doesnât remember what he imagined â doesnât know much at all. Just that he wanted this sound to echo within his walls. For him to be the one to drag it out. Not for anybody else, but him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Okay. What if he does⊠thisâŠ
Thought so.
Sometimes, human beings have a fantasy unmatched, donât they? Able to form and reform expressions on people they know that they have never seen. For example, he can imagine what you look like when you cry. Or when youâre mad. OrâŠ
He knew youâd press your lips together, along with your eyebrows, muffling your sound once he sought out your clit and pressed against it. And not because heâs seen other women contort their faces like this; no⊠itâs an entirely new sensation with you.
You donât compare to anyone. Nobody compares to you. Nobody, ever.
Sick of watching the invisible movement under your dress, he lets his eyes wander to yours, and you notice, do as he does. Eyes hooded, staring at him as if drunk â possibly, probably drunk.
Just once, he gapes down again, trying to adjust without crushing your knees with his. Comes closer. Then looks back at you. Absolutely astonished by the coloured lips drying up. Seeing your tongue peak behind your upper teeth, pushing against them.
Then youâre blinking, several times, not rapidly, but enough to indicate that youâre losing yourself, too. And then thereâs some melancholy behind your gaze; he canât say where it derives from⊠you seem to be coming out of a room that you kept dark for long enough.
He canât say whether heâs further dimming the light in that room or lightening it up â and as he advances, gauging your reactions, he inwardly hopes itâs the latter.
So inwardly. So desperately.
Patience only persists for a moment; Jungkook barely believes in it. People always break. And he does when you lean forward as he drags his finger between your pussy lips, still over the clothing. You balance your weight with your arms, holding yourself up.
And thenâŠ
You so tantalisingly, softly, quietly, whisper his name.
Okay.
The snap was expected. The sigh he lets out was expected. And the way his lips finally crash against yours, making you almost fall back onto the sofa was expected, too.
But your taste⊠Why did he know youâd be as sweet as a clichĂ©, like a perfume made edible? Matches your mystery and your elegance.
And the mellow, yet wanting sounds fit every move he makes. Like the moan-sigh combination when his bold hand wraps around the bun youâve arranged your hair into. How you breathe into the kiss when he tilts your head a little, and then proceeds to loosen up said bun.
Releases it. Lets your hair fall. Pulls you in, pausing the make-out in the process, and then diving back in with a greed heâs never been met with before.
And as he kisses you, his index finger still dips into the uncharted territory below, ruining your panties some more as he soaks them; fucking loving how you whimper as a result.
No⊠this is ruining him just as much.
So he draws back from your body, attempting and probably failing not to look at you like an animal glaring down at his prey, ready to devour. Heâs never seen this expression himself, but one or two girls have uttered quiet, âOh-oh,â in such moments before â do you see the danger, too?
Or is he being cocky? But itâs not his fault. You make him cocky because he can never fucking say what you think! Of course heâd need the mental praise to himself â your opinion on him is too difficult to decipher.
Heâll keep the energy up. Make you shrink in his hold.
Hands under your ass, he lifts your lower body a little, amused by your wide eyes and how you wonder, âWhat are you dââ
Silencing the moment he uses his palmsâ position to grab the hem of your panties and pull them down your legs. Over them and then on the other side of the table. The two of you wonât need those tonight.
âWhat does it look like that Iâm doing?â he teases, smirk effective and permanent.
He likes that about himself. Maybe youâll do, too. If not, then you at least do like how his fingers, impatient, find their way back home again, not before lifting your dress to your hips until youâre bared to him the way heâs craved.
And he pauses.
Oh, this treasureâŠ
âYouâŠâ he starts, moving two ring-clad fingers between your folds. Testing the waters. âIâm not letting you go anywhere tonight. Youâre staying right hereâŠâ He leans forwards, body on body, whispering against your lips. âTrapped under me.â
You want to answer, he thinks. Your eyebrows relax for a second, an inebriated smile playing around your mouth. If he knows you well enough, heâd guess youâre urging to dive back into your witty remarks.
But none of it is possible just yet. Because when he caresses your pussy again, increasing the pace without being too unreasonably fast, you bite your lip. He urges you to release it with his tongue. And when you do, his finger plunges in; as deeply as it can. So easily, too.
He kisses your clavicles the moment your nails get ahold of his arms, wiggling underneath him, but still caged in. And he sees the built-up frustration; how you kept yourself at bay, but can barely do it now. How you yearn for just one or two more right touches here and there beforeâŠ
But before he can, he stops. Immediately, unexpectedly for you. Once again, mean, butâŠ
âYouâll thank me later,â he utters â and with those four measly words, something awakens in you that was hidden for just the last ten minutes.
âOh? You⊠youâre confident like this.â
âOf course I am.â
âJungkookâŠâ you say in such frustration that he thinks youâll beg some more. But you donât. Instead, you shake your head and say. âMen rarely manage toâŠâ
âThis isnât rare. Iâm not giving you rare, âkay?â
âIâŠâ
âHowâŠâ he readjusts your body, pulling you down the couch, shifting until his knee keeps your legs apart. âHow fucking insulting.â
Do you hear any of this anymore? Because your eyes are closed again. Hands still holding on; and⊠and body winding in order for your cunt to shift closer to him, suddenly rubbing against his knee.
Itâs all you can get at the moment since his hands are so far out of reach. And the satisfaction of knowing that youâll strive for anything at all is cosmic.
âYouâre ruining my jeans,â he mocks, clicking his tongue as if to reprimand.
âThenâŠâ You hook a finger into one of his jeansâ loops, pulling and then releasing again. âTake them off, coward.â
You donât have to tell him twice. They say that if you have waited for so long, whatâs ten more minutes? But no more. Not another second.
So he obliges immediately as he mutters, ââKay,â offering a helping hand when you work on his shirt. Off and to the ground. Pants off and to the back of the couch. He already knows heâll be finding them all scattered the next morning.
But thatâs the problem of just that next-morning-self.
Boxers still on, he returns to give you another initial taste of whatâs to explode. The dress moves up from your hip as he slides it over your skin, stopping right under the mounds heâs still so curious about.
He needs to keep this balanced. Rush as much as might be appropriate, but not too much to make things embarrassing. This⊠the way he leans down again, opening your legs, erection grinding against your pussy and offering the bare minimum⊠this is good enough for nowâŠ
Or maybe not. Because merely a couple seconds later, you halt mid-moan, letting out breathy words that he struggles to understand until you repeat, âIs that⊠all youâll be doing tonight?â
âHmmm, you want more?â
âIâ I donât know.â Pause, a gulp when he presses his clothed length between your cunt. âAre you going to tell me your secrets if I say yes?â
His secrets?
You must be kidding. He has been an open book to you, chasing you around; if anything, he needs to unravel your mind.
But for that, he needs to play along. So he feigns the same mystery you emanate, teasing, âWhat do you wanna know?â
And you donât hesitate. âEverything.â
âŠHmmâŠ
Youâve never seemed as interested as you are now. Never dove into his thoughts and the dim heart like now. If he agreed now, would you blurt out something specific? Questions that you formed when he wasnât paying attention?
No idea. Maybe thatâs something to worry about later. Pillowtalk. The morning after talk. Just anything⊠just not now.
He removes the obstacles currently standing between the two of you. The cushion standing against the back of the couch, constantly falling into your face. He throws it on the ground, so you donât have to keep swatting it away.
Then, the dress covering your body. He gives a sign of wanting to proceed, and you play along, lifting yourself, chasing his lips as your outfit follows the cushion. And then, the phone right underneath the small of your back, having snuck there, undetected until you yelp, âOh!â
âWhat?â
âCold. Donât know how it got there.â
He fishes out the device, watching it light up, a notification at the top that he canât decode and that he doesnât pay any mind to. Puts it on the coffee table. Then⊠last but not least⊠the uncertain atmosphere.
He says, âYou want to know everything? Then make a list. Iâll tell you if I feel like it⊠deal?â
âYouâre soâŠâ
âYou gotta make me. No other way out, baby.â
An answer lies on your tongue, ready to disrupt the moment. He knows because you look distracted all of a sudden, possibly still thinking about the same thing you did before, dissociating as he sat next to you, wine in hand.
Itâs probably about work. Or about Taehyung â God, nobody at work but Jungkook would know, but you mention that guy all the time.
But tonight is not the night to think of others. So he shakes your upcoming inquiries away, giving you no time to think about it further as he, thirsty and impatient, picks you up and off the couch.
Right into his lap. Right onto his cock.
Still a layer between the two of you, watching you grind immediately. For a moment, you put him under your spell, urging him to stay right there and not move away until heâs shot buckets of cum into his boxers.
ButâŠ
But heâd rather do it in you, with you, because of truly you.
So he wastes no second as he executes his former plan, large hands sprawling over your ass before he stands with willpower and strength. He throws you a couple inches into the air, making you adjust, and then moves.
Away from the couch, stepping onto the clothes on the floor, careful not to stumble and hurt the two of you. The way to the bedroom seems endless, and you so naked⊠so⊠so his for the night. Like what, he still needs to wait those couple square metres?
Fuck, howâŠ
No. It must be a primal instinct that hankers him to give up already, having made it halfway through the room and almost to his bedroom when he suddenly stops. Pinning you against a random free spot at the wall, right under a silent clock.
âWhat are youâŠ?â
Your voice is trembling, for some reason so incredibly small. For the first time since you lay beneath him on the couch, he sees your eyes properly, and they flit back to the couch as if youâre looking where you just departed from â and then back to him.
âWhat are you looking for?â he whispers. Tantalisingly, he brings his fingers to your chin, pinching it lightly as he raises your head. âHm? Iâm here. Do you want to go back? Missing the couch? Wall might not be as comfortable, huhâŠâ
âNo⊠thatâs not a problem. Iâm just⊠surprised by the change.â
You do look surprised. A little cheekier again as your tone rises, your head falling to the side, lips smiling as if to distract him from something bigger. As if thereâs anything bigger in existence right now than you.
âIt was just sudden,â you conclude.
âIs that bad?â
âNot at all. Iâm just curious.â
He doesnât need to ask what about. He sees it in this expecting gaze of yours that you want to read and decrypt his next steps. And you can have them.
Because he lets you go, making you fall silently on your feet, kissing you once before he falls to his knees. You groan when he grabs your leg, placing it on his shoulder, restless when his lips charge for your open folds.
He offers you, âCurious, huh? No need,â before kissing your clit, adding another, âJust indulge in it⊠no need to use your pretty brain today,â and then attaching his mouth and tongue to your dripping pussy.
Digging his large nose into you, tickling your nub, he swirls his tongue around, slurping you up like his favourite drink. Holy fuck, you taste good. He could eat you up, down you in one like a shot. Stay right here all night.
You get ahold of a patch of his hair, but donât pull â somehow, he wishes you would. Instead, you seem to focus on your body, trying not to fall, keeping it upright. Youâre winding, your leg moving, and he soon wraps an arm around your thigh to keep you from stirring too much.
And with the other, he targets your cunt, mouth moving up to make space for the digits to easily, effortlessly slide into you. You gasp, just a bit louder when the metal touches your hot sex, calling his name â and for possibly the first time, he hears you curse, âFuck. Fuck, Iâmâ Iâm going to pass out.â
Oh my God.
If he could lick you to unconsciousness, heâd feel shocked and proud at once. He wants to see you become weightless, wants to catch you in his arms, and then bring you to his bedroom, still delirious, and fuck your brain out of you.
He wants you so bad. He wants to fuck you so fucking badly. His cock aches, godfuckingdamn.
As he rolls his tongue, lips kissing yours, moving his head left and right as he makes out with your pussy, he almost pulls all the way through. Nearly gives into your body language, nose moving over your clit, fingers pumping in and out, breathing into your pussy hotly.
But he has other plans. He wants to see your damn tears; wants you to unleash all your desperation. So, just when your sounds change, less pauses between them, high-pitched, heavy breathing, he stops.
Draws back, watching you press your ass into the wall, head suddenly hanging low. You whisper, âNoâŠâ as he looks up in satisfaction, waiting for you to say more.
Youâre out of breath, exhaling through half gritted teeth, a palm on his chest as he rises again. You declare, âIâm going to blueball you, too.â
But the adrenaline has poured buckets of confidence over Jungkook already, and heâs drenched in it as much as in your scent, cocking an eyebrow as he challenges, âYou can try.â
âIâm gonna suck your dick so fucking slow.â
âDo it,â he keeps the mask up, wondering how much of the effect you saw upon gracing him with such a provocative image, âletâs see if you make it this far. Might just fuck you into space before that, you know?â
He lets out an unsteady breath, a strand of your hair swaying upon impact. His hand taps at your thigh, testing whether youâve closed your legs again; and as he realises that you havenât, much to his pleasure, he palms your pussy, heel of his hand pressing against your clit.
âYouâre trying to set me off, because you know you can, right?â he questions, for a split moment distracted by the teeth gnawing at your lower lip. âSmart of you. You are truly smart, babe⊠but youâre also mine tonight. So donât play games.â
A slap lands on your vulnerable pussy, and he understands your frustration as you open your mouth, the lower lip previously captive rolling back into place. Soft and gorgeous.
No matter the fading distance, thereâs still something inexplicable in the air, as if he canât really separate a dream from reality. As if he needs evidence that this isnât yet another figment of his imagination; the ones heâs awoken from several times, underwear threatening to burst.
The hand just torturing your cunt wanders up your body and settles around your neck, like a chain or a necklace or a motherfucking leash. He feels home here, just like this. With your fingers on his wrist, gulping under his touch.
Pinned firmly against the wall, he looks down to where youâre dripping and heâs standing tall, gripping the ever-twitching length that is begging for more. Begging for relief. Heâs doing this to himself â because his body is burning up, as if scorched by sun flares.
Heâs doing this to the both of you.
The kiss underneath your ear as he leans in. And the still harmless yet sinful touch between his tip and your folds. How he holds the shaft firmly, leading the head between your pussy lips, teasing until just an inch intrudes your awaiting hole.
He moans the moment you do, moving, fucking just the first of the tip into you; scrambling his own thoughts as he says, âGod, I could just slide in⊠youâre so, so wet.â
âWhat⊠why say this if you wonât do it?â
Guess youâve figured him out well enough. Guess thatâs the cockiness you implied when you called him a fuckboy in that stupid museum. Or how you kept a safe distance â because thinking about it, maybe Jungkook could be someone to break somebodyâs heart.
No. He knows he is. ButâŠ
He shakes the thought off his brain, returning to this very moment where youâre waiting for his answer, a heart made of steel. You wonât let him hurt you; you know better than that. You could dodge him easily.
Mentally, at least. Physically, youâre under his mercy.
So he uses this weakness, muttering under his breath, âI will, I will⊠but not here. We can do better than here.â
Wasnât this just a pit stop after all? What heâs seeking is still waiting in his bedroom, soft sheets spread over the cold mattress, waiting for a body to warm it up. Or two.
Already hot and bothered, Jungkook lets you go entirely; and the next minute happens in a blur, as though heâs struggling with recognising his own apartment. Suddenly self-conscious about everything and nothing at once.
With you in his grip, he walks along the dark, small corridor; then past the paintings, through the door, into a well-managed, tidy bedroom until heâs sat your ass down. It happens within the tiniest moment â he could narrate how you got here but he can barely recall it.
Dick at the same height as your mouth, he wraps his hand around it. You donât initiate anything of what you promised, looking into his eyes with a question; he knows you want to avenge yourself and provide the same vanity, but youâd rather skip to the best part.
He wants to, too.
So he doesnât ram his cock into your mouth, hitting the farthest spot until you gag. Instead, he relishes the image mentally and quietly, fantasising about the warmth of your spit, about the tongue swirling around.
And then⊠then he goes a step further and imagines the even extended pleasure if he dug into your pussy now, maximising whatever your mouth could make him feel.
Are his thoughts too straight-forward? If he spelled them out like this, one by one, would you find him weird? Too eager? Obsessed?
Maybe he should slow down. Just a bit.
Which is why he holds his shaft closer to you, still surprised when you donât open up, hints of the past confusion alternating with your confident, mysterious, teasing self. Itâs weird to witness. But your eyes are still hazy at least. You donât seem to want to stop.
God. He canât figure it out. Not figuring out is agitating even in this moment.
But⊠good energies. Good energies. All the pent-up frustration needs to be morphed into sheer craze. He can do that.
âSpit on it,â he orders.
You only hum. Something in your gaze changes again, eyelids fluttering, as if awoken from trance. But youâre willing. Immediately mimicking him as you bring a thumb to a mole on the protruding veins. Tracing them, all the way back to his balls until you touch them just lightly, but enough for him to nearly lose his shit.
âFuck, I said,â he reprimands, though delighted by the sudden rapture, âspit on it.â
You nod as if carrying out a task given by your manager; perhaps used to the last days and weeks when heâd command you around. Ask for another meeting, or for your opinion on a song, or just to keep him company to keep him productive.
Or, to keep you close to him. Lost in thoughts. Many thoughts. And even though none of them became a reality in that room, none of the equipment shoved aside to sit you on the desk, this⊠this right here is more than enough.
You suck in your cheeks, collecting spit, and when you lean forward⊠you make such a mess. Spitting onto the tip, a string still connecting your lips and his dick, leftover saliva dripping down your chin and then on your tits.
The view is⊠worth diamonds.
Do you even know?
âOkay,â he utters, no real direction in his mind, no real sentence to utter. âOkay.â
But youâre equipped with ideas, immediately getting onto the trail you left, spreading the spit over his cock, down to the base. The tip and the slit glisten, traces of precum mixing with your drool, but itâs not enough to cover his length all over.
So he mutters a mental, âMore,â to himself, tapping your lips until you open, sticking two of his fingers in and pressing against your tongue. Lubricating his digits, he rolls them over your tongue, far enough to nearly make you gag until he draws back.
Watching you work on him rolls a wave of satisfaction over him. Heâs proud, enduring like this. Because judging from the creature you are, as if jumped out of dark mythology, he truly expected to give up way earlier.
But he remains steadfast; eager to not explode until heâs filled you up first. Drawn out your own highs.
âSweetheart, arenât you a good one?â Jungkook praises, helping you out with whatever his fingers gathered in your mouth. Then, grabs your wrist, pushing you away, hovering above you with a, âTurn around.â
You gulp again. Then shift back on his bed, sighing as you feel the soft silk underneath your skin, kissing and hugging your body. The sight is gorgeous, with you fleeing to the back of the mattress, obliging so easily. Prey.
AndâŠ
âHoly fuck.â
Holy fuck, how you look when you finally get into position. Ass up, upper body down. And the arms over your head? What in the world.
Okay⊠okayâŠ
Wait. Youâre saying something.
His knees dig into the mattress, hand unconsciously pumping his cock â he doesnât even know when he started â as he moves closer, over your body. Kisses your shoulder, bringing his ear close to hear before, âHuh? Whatâd you say?â
âIâm already so spent.â
âAh⊠do you want to stop?â
âNo⊠you made me feel spent. But youâre not done, are you?â
Pause. Bright smirk. Then, âOf course not. Does it feel like it?â Another kiss to your shoulder, wet this time. âCondom or not?â
âOh.â Seems you hadnât even thought about this yet. Kind of nice. âIâm⊠I use an IUD. Have you⊠slept with many people lately?â
No answer yet. He thinks. Thinks back to the several weeks since he met you. Should he say it? Would you back away if he did? Years ago, thereâd be no debate about it â he wouldnât have told you. Kept it to himself.
Perhaps thereâs still a part of him thatâd dodge your question, but he somehow feels like youâd see through him. Hear the insincerity.Â
Fuck, is that selfish? Maybe. Doesnât he already know that he is? But heâs not bad; and people are selfish.
So a second later, he truthfully admits, âOnce. Two or so weeks ago. Nothing special though, just dumb, drunk shit. Some girl from a club. And I tested after.â
As soon as the sentence finishes, he wonders if you deem yourself just another one of those. But⊠in all honesty. She was a one night stand whose sounds, name, dirty talk did nothing to him.
All he could imagine was you. Perhaps not out of loyalty, but surely out of curiosity.
He canât fathom his thoughts into feelings yet; he still wouldnât describe his attitude towards you as falling in love or anything. Thatâd be too far stretched. But he thought about it â that maybe he liked you too much.
Yet, his heart remained empty; but his body never did. He feels bad; and still, he wonât deny whatever his skin and mind whisper to him.
Other than that, he could probably declare with quite a firm certainty that you donât feel any different about him. You canât be.
So maybe this is good enough for now.
âBut know what?â he says, voice lower, repeating his thoughts. âCould only imagine what itâd be like if it was you. This pussy,â strokes his cock along your cunt, âand this body,â touches the small of your back, âthese thoughts got me going. And youâre so much better in reality.â
âMmmh,â is all you utter, nearly hiding your face in the pillow before you say, âmaybe⊠maybe we can still use a condom then.â
Shit. Expected it.
But okay. Okay.
Where are the condoms again⊠bedside table? No. He used the last one ages ago, before he knew you. He gets up; walks to the closet; somewhere near his socks, there must be a new pack. A moment to think.
For a second, he looks back at you. Youâre still the same, only with the ass having dropped again, losing balance and energy. And maybe, youâre still drunk, too â probably, because even he still feels the world spin, careful not to close his eyes for too long.
Okay. One⊠no, two foils out. As he turns back to you, nearing you, his head is just a little calmer than a minute again, and he wonders⊠were all the thoughts his own? The past half an hour or however much passed, didnât he spiral more and more?
Did you notice? He shakes his head. Who cares?
Not him, not right now. He keeps telling himself that with a goddess waiting in front of him on all fours, he probably doesnât need to worry about anything unless thereâs a reason to. Youâve been cooperative and the night has been successful, minus the strange gazes you keep throwing at him periodically.
âAlright, baby. Up you come,â he mumbles, bringing your ass back to his crotch. His hands are already trained and incredibly skilled; doing work on the condom doesnât take him more than a couple seconds. âI should tell you now.â
You pause. Suck in some breath, as if expecting something in particular. You agree with an unmatched thirst for knowledge, ââŠTell me.â
âI donât tend to go easy. If you need me to be, youâll have to tell me. âKay?â
âI⊠I can take a lot more than you think.â
Fuck. Heâll wreck your shit. âPerfect. Youâre honestly a good one, huh? Such a good girl for real, noâ no, youâre the best.â
Is he just saying whatever now? Perhaps he should stop boring you and get to it. Right? Please, the goddamn, blood-filled tower down there is desperately imploring him to.
He collects spit like you did before, targeting your glinting pussy, one blob right onto it. Then, he brings his fingers back to where they love to be, distributing the filth between your folds. And then, two fingers into the tightening hole.
Right before moving north, between your ass cheeks, thumb rolling over your other clenching hole.Â
And you tense immediately, without saying a word, taking it quietly. Then⊠then he finally starts.
Brings the annoying rubber to your soaked pussy, poking for a second before he gets serious and eventually dips in. The free hand raises your ass some more, and he shifts forwards, your butt backwards, helping him get in further.
He hears the reaction. Hears the almost-screech in a second, nails biting into the pillow over your head. You hold onto it for dear life as he slowly bottoms out, your sporadic breathing and high-pitched moans mingling with his own bursts of lust.
Deep creases appear between his eyebrows, lips bitten sore, and once his waist has finally connected with your ass, he takes a deep, long inhale. Watches your face disappear deeper into the pillow, sounds muffled.
Enjoys it for a moment before he starts moving slowly. Out, in. Concentrating before he might spill too early. Beads of sweat shimmer on his forehead, dampening the hanging strands of hair. You feel good. Too fucking goodâ
He wants to go off right away. But⊠focus.
âHowâs that?â he asks.
âStop⊠stop talking.â
Oh. Bold. But a good sign, isnât it? If you wanted him to stop, youâd say it. So he keeps going⊠dares just a little more, courageous, encouraged by your cooperation. Explores your ass and what lies between the cheeks more, groaning before he says, âYou stop that.â
His hand reaches for your wrists, keeping you from tearing his pillow and leading your fingers to where his touched your ass before. You keep your touch there, unmoving until he says, âKeep them apart.â
And you seem to understand. His thumb returns to your unoccupied hole as his cock impales your pussy whole, still going at a tormenting pace. Thick and soaked, heâs splitting you in two; maybe thatâs why the slow plunges are such a plague. Because both of you know there could be more.
Pulling your ass cheeks apart, you remain with your face in the sheets, arms trembling as he circles your hole again. He doesnât know if youâre into this; doesnât know if youâll protest. So far, heâs been pretty obvious with his intentions, and heâs sure you must understand this one, too.
And youâre not fearful; if something bothered you, you wouldnât hesitate to voice your displeasure. So he spits one more time, right onto his thumb, using the lubrication to carefully, curiously dip the tip of his thumb into your ass.
You yelp immediately; as your hole tightens around the little bit of his thumb, your pussy narrows around his cock, too, and he nearly loses it. Nearly drools onto your back as his mouth drops open, blinking rapidly for a second.
God, your body reacts with such intensity. Still, he makes sure, âToo much?â
And you, candidly, reply, âI donât know. I⊠think so.â
âOkay. Then Iâll stoââ
âNo. No, wait⊠I want toâ I want to know what itâs like.â
Thought so. He knew that underneath all the chic charade, you crave just as much as he does. And if itâs him that you long for, then what even stands between him and the rocket shooting his ego to the sky?
This feels good. Really good⊠not just physically. You lift his spirits.
Ready with an exhale, he dares his thumb deeper, letting more of it disappear in you. Out of all the women heâs ever been with, not more than a handful has been willing to venture into this part of sexual desire. Most of them canât stand the discomfort, and some of them donât feel any particular way about it.
But you lay open to him in every way possible. An open book for once; easy to read, as if calculating how you wind, planning how to sound, guiding him fearlessly.
Soon, heâs adjusting his thrusts to your moans, and youâre adjusting your moans to his thrusts. Synchronised, the two of you groan and cry out together, and he makes sure to keep you filled to the brim, reducing the pauses between the shoves bit by bit.
UntilâŠ
âHey,â he whispers, waiting for you to react, but as he pumps into you, slowly yet balls-deep, you donât do anything much but scream into the pillow. So he just continues, âHow much do you think you can take, baby?â
âI⊠Iâmââ
Youâre attempting your best, but youâre tongue-tied. With each push, he catapults your body forwards, but your mind is long lost in the stratosphere. With gritted teeth and a rising, heavily breathing, golden chest, he leans in close to you, hand snaking under you and around your neck as he retries, âSo?â
âI donât know,â you blurt, and as you raise your head and look back at him, he sees a sight to behold â mascara underneath your eyes, lipstick smeared, a quivering chin. Heâs fucking you so good; he must be, because you soon add, âJust do anâand Iâll let you know.â
âGood idea. Very good idea.â
Heâs fucking you good. But itâs not all heâs got; not all heâs wanted for days and weeks.
No. If he unleashed all heâs been fabricating in his mind, heâd drench your cheeks in tears. And now that you permitted him to, he might just go ahead, right?
Right.
Which is why the next steps come easy to him, naturally, as if you pressed a button heâs been waiting to smash. A big, red one, like the ones in games urging you to not touch or youâd lose. But by God, right now, heâs not losing.
If he looked into his reflection in the dark window, heâd see a winner through and through.
A fiery rage courses through his burning veins. A face contorting when he lets you go, only to move his fingers back, wrapping them around the back of your neck. Shoving you into the mattress, ramming his cock into you, once more keeping the familiar pace and thenâ
And then he closes his eyes. Matches an expression to your yelps. Drives into your deepest core and picks up speed until, all of a sudden, it turns jarring.
Jungkook doesnât get enough. He doesnât know if he ever will; damn the approaching end of this. There shouldnât be one; he should be capable of ruining you forever. Maybe he will be.
For now, he directs his thoughts fully on how you feel and how you sound, uncaring about the jagged breathing that burns up his chest. Leaning forward, he attempts twice until he catches your ears, nibbling at your earlobe.
At first, he doesnât know if you register the touch, given that heâs occupying you with far crazier sensations. But then you reach out a hand, panting into the pillow, grabbing a patch of his hair.Â
And he, fired up and insane, leans back, gripping your wrist, removing it from his mane and pinning it to your back instead. Your face moves to the side, not muffled by the pillow anymore, and you gasp for air before you beg, âPlease, Iâm about toââ
Thatâs all you get, because he soon interrupts with a cheeky, âYou can hold on for a bit longer,â pausing on purpose. He wants to see you when you come. Wants to wipe more of your make up across your face. Wants to kiss the colour of your lipstick onto his own lips.
Letting your orgasm fade, he waits, just a couple seconds, allowing you to catch your breath until your eyebrows furrow. You blink repeatedly, then looking up into his eyes, and itâs all he needs to feel his patience dissipate again.
Jungkook gets into a new position, leaving one knee deep in the mattress while angling the other leg, planting its foot on the sheets. He keeps his cock from falling out, leading the tip and the shaft back in before he resumes to fuck you wound.
Your arm is still hostage to his grip, the nails of your other hand gripping the sheet for dear life. Itâs gorgeous, the view from where Jungkook looks down at his meal. Crazy how you purr and whine when he leans in, touching your swollen clit, electrifying you. And he keeps looking at you.
At the upper body waving a white flag, too weak to keep yourself upright anymore. And then, the ass in the air staying firmly at its place, his dick aiding you, the flesh of your cheeks wobbling with each thrust, like an ocean wave. Whenever it collides with his hips, the slaps resound temptingly, and Jungkook soon mimics it by letting his hand fall hard on your ass.
You mewl, calling out his name twice, the second cry half uttered, half of the Jungkook omitted. And when you catch the tiniest of your breaths, still working with drying lungs, you say, âL-let me come, pleaseââ
âWait,â he says again, still sadistic, still masochistic, absolutely out of his mind before an idea lights up his mind. âThis isnât it yet.â
The finger working on your nub was an evil tactic, heâs got to admit. Perhaps he led you to believe something heâs not ready to give you yet, and once you seem to realise, you let out a sob.
And heâs positively delighted once he stops. Lowers his head to look at you. Sees the dark, smeared mascara on his pillow when he digs his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back as he says, âI know. You thought we were done, right? Weâre not done, though.â
âWhaââ
He lets his body fall onto the mattress, right next to you, and pulls you in, back against his chest. Hand under your tits, pressing against them, moving them up and down before pinching your nipple once.
âI said,â he repeats, probably unnecessarily, because he doesnât think you actually demand an answer, âIâm not done. Understand?â
And as expected, you donât nod or answer. You only push your body further into his, and he reckons thatâs a mighty sufficient implication already.
As you lay sideways with a breath as heavy as his, his exhales hot against your ear, you let out sounds reminiscent of marathon runners. Youâre exhausted, sweaty, and so is he â but neither of you are finished, and heâd be damned if he permitted the night to end like this.
Diligently, he throws your quivering leg over his; your impish remarks have lessened since he took over, and in turn, his own insolent emotions are reigning supremely. He leads his submerged, rock-hard, twitching cock to your battered cunt, pushing in so easily he thinks heâs dreaming.
Itâs like putting a key into its lock.
âAhh, fuck.â Itâs hard to fully bottom out in this position, but he can touch you so much better now. He lets his hands explore your bare body, fondling with your tits, kissing your ear and jaw. âHold tight. Youâre doing so good for me, sweetheart.â
Itâs cruel, he knows; the gentle praises as he wreaks havoc down there. He crosses your wrists against your tummy, holding them tight, and you close to him. Fucks you dumb and stupid as you wail in his arms. Moves to your clit and gives it pleasant, gentle rubs, so opposite from the rest of his ministrations.
And the pressure builds. His balls, hard as steel, prepare to shoot their load into you, his cock impossibly stiff, but⊠butâŠ
You havenât come yet. And this position wonât do. Canât do, wonât do, he needs to see you.
So he echoes, âWonât do,â as he gets up again, keeping the previous position short lived. Doesnât stay away for too long before heâs on his knees, pulling your legs apart, after the briefest interruptions deep inside again before he leans into you.
And then, everything happens crazy fast.
How he keeps you from wrapping your arms around him; instead, capturing your wrists once again, raising them next to your head. How he moves to kiss you for the first time after quite a while, intertwining your tongues, moaning hard as he feels his high approach.
The fast pace changes a little as he loses his mind and focus, one of the strokes stopping as he almost pulls out, and then plunges in again. Your fingers curl in, nails sharp enough to dig into the digits that hold you, and he cries out in delight, letting a breathy chuckle fall.
He says, âAlright, yeah. Next time⊠weâre tying you up. Love how you whine.â He lets one hand go, gripping your face again and you move your touch to his shoulder immediately, gasping. âYou always p-play the mysterious girl, huh? But youâre so pathetic right now.â
The inhibitions are out the window. The overthinking, too. Whatever he thought might make you run away from him has long exited his mind, because heâs got you right here, under his control, nearing the end.
Thereâs no going back. No return to his yearning, because youâve satisfied it so thoroughly.
Time to give it all back to you. One last time before he submerges himself in all his glorious egotism.
âThere we go,â he says as he watches your expressions change. You open your mouth but donât say anything. He doesnât know what your orgasm feels like, but he knows youâre going through it. âLet it all out. Cream my cock, I fucking dare you.â
Heâs saying whatever now, he knows. But he doesnât have the capacity to think much as creases appear on your forehead and between your eyebrows, tongue mingling with his for a short moment when he goes in for another kiss, barely succeeding.
Youâre trembling, lifting your hips as much as the weight above you allows, wanting more friction, more of a touch inside your pussy, on your clit, everywhere. And then, when you do come⊠when he brings the stars from the sky into your eyesâŠ
Yours roll back into your head. Throwing it back, giving him access to your neck. Lips still apart, and he uses it to push a finger into your mouth, on top of your tongue. And fuck⊠how your pussy constricts. How it tightens so fucking much.
Heâd be lying if he said it didnât affect him.
So much so that his head spins; and as he feels himself getting dizzy, he buries his face in the pillow next to your head before moving it to kiss your shoulder. Barely looks at you anymore; doesnât care, itâs his high now, he wants to fucking come, and thatâs it.
Finally, finally heâs gotten to this point.
Will he hate himself for these thoughts later? Is this too over the top? He doesnât know and he doesnât care, doesnât care.
His thoughts are occupied, alright, donât need another string of questions to intervene. His attention remains resolutely on his movements, vigorous, rhythmic, your sounds perfectly matching each of his strokes.
And your hands, the poor little palms, unsure where to settle. This isnât new; across this broad back of his, every girlâs touch wanders like this. Your nails scratch the small of his back, then up his spine, across the muscles of his shoulder blades.
The fact that youâre a goner as much as him, giving yourself to him is probably the last of reassurances he needs â as if any more were required. Because still panting into your skin, eyes shut tight, he works towards the peak of his sanity, exhausted but eager as he relishes the wet tightness of your pussy; surrounding him just right, still clenching, unclenching from your orgasm.
And thenâ
âOhhh, fuck,â he whispers.
His voice is shaking uncontrollably; he barely recognises it. Which⊠must mean this is new, right? Experience be damned, apparently you spark off phenomena nobody has ever acquainted him with before.
And oh, how you make it worse once he finally emerges again, as if catching his breath after holding it underwater for too long. Your eyes are hooded as he gets on his knees over your body, caging your hips in between his legs. Gripping one of your tits, you nibble your lower lip for a second before letting out laboured breathing, nose flaring.
Itâs all he needs. All thatâs left when he rips off the condom and envelops his filthy cock with his veiny hand, stroking immediately and hard. Close to the end as he rushes to ask, âWhere do you want it?â
You understand what heâs asking, and nod, back to yourself when you utter mysteriously, âAnywhere but insideâŠâ Okay. No time to ask why not â but he wouldnât have anyway. He obliges, giving his all, one more second left before you tell him just in time, âHere.â
Your palm rubs across your skin, moving over your tits and your stomach. So heâs quick to opt away from your face and redirect his aim to where you pointed, moaning out a couple last, broken vocals before he finally spills.
Milky white, multiple blotches scattered over your skin, like a modern art painting. Heâd rather draw these all day than be stuck with you in a museum restaurant, staring from afar, wishing he could reach out under the goddamn public table.
Going until heâs empty, he senses a relief unknown to him thus far, mind suddenly vacant. Once again, the ocean; he feels like the ocean. Like the water as it stills and calms after a thunderous storm. You lifted the waves of his sea high above and have now turned him into a lazy, peaceful lake.
God, he should fuck you more often; you make him a poet.
Okay. Okay, where was he?
When did he unfocus? Dizzy all of a sudden. He puffs out a breath. Then takes another look at you. Watches as you spread the sticky substance over your mounds, touching your nipple, so indecently messy.
The smirk is unintentional but inevitable, reaching far as he shakes his head at you. You smile back wordlessly, and he lets his fingertip run over his cum, too, bringing it to your lips as he asks, âTaste?â
You donât answer. Thinking for the barest second before you scoff, stretching out your tongue before he puts the finger on it; closing your eyes, sucking it clean. He groans at the feeling; luckily, heâll be immobile for the foreseeable future, or heâd bend you over again.
âOkay. That should be enough for now,â he breathes, letting himself fall next to you. âI promise Iâm a lot more energised on other days. ButâŠâ He turns towards you, pinching your chin, bringing your face close. âGod, did you take me out there. Iâm beat.â
He doesnât kiss you; only drops back, still filling his lungs with new oxygen. Pity â he still wants you, but his muscles are aching. Eyes shutting.
Then opening again when he hears you laugh, right before you say, âYou donât need to prove your endurance to me. Iâve got a pretty good idea of it now. Besidesâ letâs be honest. I didnât do much.â
âOh, you did more than enough, sweetheart,â Jungkook retorts with a snicker, giving his eyes some relief. He sighs, and then adds, âYour existence did it for me already. Wouldnât have wanted it any other way.â
He shoves his arm under his head, the other untidily covering the two of you with the blanket; whatever. Heâll wash it tomorrow. For now, the two of you should probably get some rest. Althoughâ
Did you say you wanted to stay? He didnât catch it if you did. Perhaps heâs also just inattentive; suddenly remembers that he still has a long way to go socially, remembering that permission is courtesy. Selfish, selfish, selfish.
âUhm,â he starts; this is awkward. He doesnât do this often â not many stay overnight anyway. Strangely, he didnât question it with you; maybe because he wants you to. âDo you want me to bring you home?â
âIn all honesty, I⊠I donât think you can drive tonight. Weâre both not sober yet, so Iâll just leave in the morning. Need to be in the office by noon.â
âAh? Why?â
âMeeting with Tae. I forgot that he wanted to go through a few organisational things for the upcoming concert.â
Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company.
Jungkook forgot about it all. Responsibilities still exist. Of course, he needs to be in the office tomorrow afternoon, too. This is his dream, his goal, everybodyâs eyes on him, the biggest source of entertainment in the country.
Feels so stupid, forgetting youâll leave at some point. That he canât flip you over again all day tomorrow, that youâll be occupied somewhere else, with someone else. Jungkook grits his teeth.
âYou wanna come over again tomorrow night?â he asks.
And all of a sudden, despite the last hour, you seem lost in thoughts again. Probably tired, but he canât help but overthink. You donât answer immediately, keeping him on the edge, and as he thinks youâve fallen asleep, he looks over, seeing your eyes open when you say, âDonât know. Might have a couple things to tend to.â
Ah⊠okay. Sure.
Whereâs your mind right now, he wonders?
Maybe circling around work. Maybe your urge to go is as little as his? All these things, they donât sound too delightful right now, do they?
Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company. Tae.
When did you start using his nickname like this? Weird. Didnât know the two of you were so close. Then again, does it matter? No. He shakes his head.
Shakes it slowly, making sure you donât notice, sighing again before he breaks into a smile. Itâs okay. Youâre next to him. Not next to Taehyung. His friend. Youâre covered in him. So he doesnât let anotherâs name fog his brain, instead seeking peace and succeeding untilâ
âDonât worry, another time,â you say, following up with a goosebump-inducing, âIâll stick around until my feet tingle.â
Somewhere⊠at some point in his life⊠under probably not the best circumstancesâÂ
Wait.
THE FIC ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ đđŒ
as always, tumblr hates content creators and has a 1k block limit. which is why you can read the rest of the story in this reblog hehe we're almost at the end <3
#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fic#jungkook imagine#jungkook
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Batboys and them having a crush on you:
Let me know what you guys think!!!
Dick Grayson (Nightwing)
Hero Moments: Dick canât resist showing off when youâre around. Whether itâs flipping through the air during a mission or effortlessly taking down a bad guy, he always glances your way to see if youâre watching. When you cheer him on, he gets all giddy. âJust doing my job,â heâll say, but you can tell he loves the attention.
Jealous Vibes: If he spots you chatting with another guy, his friendly demeanor shifts. Heâll casually walk by, pretending to check his gear or adjust his mask, but you can see the twitch in his jaw. âHey, you need help with that?â heâll say, trying to insert himself into the conversation. He acts like he doesnât care, but you know heâs dying to get your attention.
Awkward Compliments: Around you, Dick transforms from suave to stuttering mess. âYou look⊠um, amazing! Not that you donât always look amazing!â His cheeks go a shade of red, and he quickly looks away, pretending to be focused on something else. You canât help but smile at his clumsiness.
Jason Todd (Red Hood)
Secret Stares: Jason tries to play it cool, but he often gets caught sneaking glances at you when he thinks youâre not looking. His friends are quick to tease him about it. âDude, youâre not even trying to hide it!â theyâll laugh, making him scowl and deny it, but you can see a faint blush creeping up.
Tough Guy Act: He acts all tough, but when you crack a joke or tease him, he canât help but smile. âYeah, real funny,â heâll say, but his eyes sparkle with amusement. He tries to keep his cool, but the way he lightens up around you is undeniable.
Protective Instincts: Jasonâs protective side really comes out when youâre around. Heâll hover just a bit closer during missions, making sure youâre safe. âStick close to me,â heâll say, acting like itâs no big deal, but you can sense the underlying concern in his voice. Heâs always ready to jump in if you need him.
Tim Drake (Robin)
Overthinking Everything: Timâs mind is constantly racing when youâre around. Heâs always plotting how to ask you out or impress you, but when it comes time to actually talk, he freezes. You catch him staring off into space, and when you ask what heâs thinking about, he panics. âOh, uh, just⊠strategizing!â heâll say, fumbling for a way to change the subject.
Thoughtful Gifts: Tim is secretly the best gift-giver. He leaves you little surprisesâa book he knows youâll love or a custom gadget he made just for you. When you find them, he pretends itâs no big deal. âI just thought you might like it,â he says, trying to act casual, but you can see the hope in his eyes for your reaction.
Nerding Out: When you express interest in his hobbies, Timâs face lights up. He goes into full-on nerd mode, excitedly explaining tech or comics. âSo, this is how it worksâŠâ Heâs totally in his element, and you canât help but be charmed by how passionate he is.
Damian Wayne (Robin)
Awkward Teasing: Damianâs idea of flirting is to poke fun at you. âYou call that a punch?â heâll smirk during training, but you can tell heâs impressed. His teasing is playful, and it makes you laugh, even if he acts like heâs being serious.
Jealousy Fits: If he sees you talking to someone else, he turns extremely protective. Heâll huff and challenge that person to a duel, trying to show off. âYou think you can impress them? Letâs see what youâve got,â heâll say, clearly trying to establish his dominance.
Small Acts of Kindness: Despite his tough exterior, Damian has a soft side. Heâll bring you snacks or offer to help with training, and he tries to act like itâs no big deal. âItâs just efficient to help,â heâll say, but you know itâs because he cares.
#batboys#batboys headcanons#damian wayne headcanon#damian wayne x reader#dick grayson#dick grayson headcanons#jason todd#jason todd headcanons#tim drake#tim drake headcanons#nightwing x reader#nightwing#batboys x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red robin#dc robin#dc x reader#tim drake x reader#tim drake x you#damian wayne#dick grayson x reader
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â
Hickeys
àłââ·do they suck (lol) at hickeys, giver or receiver?, how? all answered down below by your beloved Tomieâš
àłââ·Psss this is a head-canon, take it lightly~
àłââ· Suggestive, implied f!reader, NSFW language
àłââ· monster trio + Law+ Ace
: ÌÌâ Luffy
Heâs the type to receive them more than to give
When he realizes he has hickeys, heâs just gonna wonder how itâs even possible and if smth hit his neck during a fightđ
Probably gonna bug Chopper about it, until he brushes him off mentioning itâs nothing
Then when youâre making out and you linger on his neck, it clicks into his mind. He yells a « ooohh, It was you! » after realizing that, it surprises you and you almost bit his skin-
Heâs down to try it when you explain that you want them on you too
« You want me to suck your skin a little until it bruises? A bit like when you bruise after a fight? »
« Ugh⊠not the same but you got the spirit? »
Heâs dense, but he tried and he didnât do as bad as you thought
: ÌÌâ Law
LMAO?? Wouldnât he be the type to lowkey hit you with a scientific facts that hickeys can kill you if done wrongđ€đ
Ik he would. Im so sorryđźâđš
On another note, tbh I feel like heâs just sooo into it, when his mind is fogged by lust. He will be making out with you and damn, heâs now leaving wet kisses all over your neck. That itself, just awaken some type of possessive strike and youâre left with hickeys a bit everywhere.
Will quietly eye them when yâall are cuddling after sex. He wonât comment on it beside if you point them out.
âThey look great.â
It would be the most reaction you will get out of him. Heâs so hot though- intrusive thoughts but they are real đ
He doesnât mind at all if you leave some on him fr. Like if itâs done within the right vibe and yâall are just kicking it and youâre riding him or yâall in lotus position, he might even groan and moan a little louder and curse under his breath.
: ÌÌâ Sanji
Oh his mouth is ALLL OVERR your body. Heâs kissing, praising, leaving hickeys all over your body. On you chest, between your thighs, on you collarbone.
Heâs almost in a trance while he loves your body and mark it. Heâs gotta to enjoy his pretty lover and you bet heâs gonna make it known that you are his and heâs the lucky man who has you!!
Heâs so sweet about it, with sweet compliments, but itâs a bit messy too. Wet patches, mumbles from his muffled lips.
Heâs SOOOOO down if you wanna do it on him. He gets very excited and canât stop smiling and touching your body.
âYes of course Iâm down! Wanna try it rn? We got time yk..â
Best boy đ€§
àłââ· Zoro
His neck always has some hickeys from you. He thought he hated it, but he quickly got over it and finds it hot now.
He doesnât care too much if someone stare at them, but he will throw a curse out with a deadpan expression, if someone made a snarky comment.
He also has this possessive strike, so you bet youâre gonna have some type of bruises-hickeys on your body after yâall are done. Because he doesnât go easy on you, he will be thrusting deep into you, while silencing you with his fingers deep in your mouth. Along with that, his mouth is nibbling on you neck and all your sensitive spots.
Itâs an overstimulating mess.
He smirks satisfied when he sees you marked up, moaning his name and completely lost into his touch.
àłââ· Ace
Oh, this man here has the biggest possessive strike out of all the men here.
I touched on the subject a little on my NSFW head canon, but he definitely love giving them. He whines when you do, because heâs apparently allergic to shirts and get slightly annoyed when each of his friends on the ship makes some jokes.
He loves that everyone knows youâre his. Because he gets to have one person for him, that actually feels love toward him and someone he can trust??! Thatâs the life prize!
Every time he fucks you, he makes sure that hickeys are created everywhere on your body.
He will shower you with attention and cocky comments as he sucks on to your skin.
Itâs his specialtyđźâđš
#one piece#one piece headcanons#tomiewritesđ·#one piece x reader#portgas d ace#one piece zoro#zoro headcanons#portgas ace x you#ace one piece#portgas ace smut#ace smut#luffy smut#luffy x reader#sanji headcanons#sanji smut#sanji fluff#traflagar law smut#law smut#law headcanons#law x reader#sanji x reader#ace sabo luffy#luffy fluff#zoro smut#zoro fluff#zoro imagines#portgas d ace smut#one piece smut
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I love working in medicine. I especially love working in medicine as a queer person because I get to see the entire breadth of our community. It's not what you think it is.
Do you know how many older gay and trans people I meet on a daily basis? It's not all young, thin teens with dyed hair.
There's this one gay couple, in their 60s, always get their lab work done together, always leaning into each other and laughing about some private joke of the week. They lost a bunch of their friends in the 80s, and they always remark about how good our facility is to them. They smile when they talk to me like yeah, we made it, we're still kicking and screaming, and by god that's how we'll go out.
This butch lady with pure silver that works at a mechinc's shop down the street and always calls me sugar when I see her. Checked in a person the other day who looked like the blanded most non-descript typical middle age cis dude, but went by a femme name and had x/nonbinary gender tag and they/them pronuns.
Then there's the young trans kids that are tto scared to dress the way they want most of the time, still uncertain about using their name and pronouns in a medical setting until we do it for them withiout them asking, treat them as the gender they prefer, and you just can see the weight fall off them as their care giver team treats them as human and with such care and love. They're always smiling by the end even if they had to do something frightening and painful.
The 20 and 30 somethings that I see going out of their way to interact with me because I'm proudly, visibly queer at work, most especially for them because we all need to know that there is someone looking out for us when we're vulnerable. We exist as this vibrant, complex tapestry, so far outside of the way we get stereotyped and talked about online and in the media. My god we are everywhere, experiencing life in ways you will never know about. You are not alone. You were never alone.
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Pairing: Gojo Satoru x female!reader
Content and Warnings: Drabble? MDNI, 18+ smut, This is so rushed oh my god, handjobs, cumplay, husband and wife, satoru being satoru, sub satoru, he's down bad, satoru has a thing for boobs..
Imagine the strongest who's a ruthless dirty dog to the curses and his enemies but he absolutely falls apart at your touch...yeah.
Giving Satoru a handjob after he came back from work was always a delight. Currently he's sprawled on the couch, his legs spread apart and his cock getting pumped at a leisurely pace. Deep, throaty moans and whimpers leave his mouth with whispers of your name like a writ. All this with an unwavering, doting eye contact.
It makes him lose his mind.
"Baby.. shit, kept thinking about this all day.." He reached out his hand to settle onto your tits, immediately to get slapped away, a petulant groan leaving his lips.
"Mean.. you're so mean to your hardworking husband.." He grinned consecutively after a pout, speaking in all the unseriousness, so characteristic of him, his voice laced with tease as his breathes start to race at you fisting his large cock, bubbling with pre.
"Shut up..this is what you get eating away my last dango.." You scolded, squeezing his dick a little too hard which made him shudder, but so turned on that his eyes almost rolled back to their sockets as he smiled lopsidedly. Shit. He was so hot.
"Come on..I missed my girls so much, lemme touch..let me cum on them, or else I'll die..please please please.." He whined dramatically, keeping up his antics even now. The man gropped onto your mounds almost frantically as he bucked his hips into your hand now jerking him off with more vigour.
You oblige to his request anyway, your considerateness going onto how maybe he just had a rough day even though there's a hint of exasperation on your face watching him vigorously move his hand up and down on his cock that was so dumb for you while you hold out your tits for him on your knees, both pressed together in a cleavage.
"Fuck..yeah..keep holding them like that, wifey.." In a string of deep moans and whimpers, he finally cums, painting your breasts with his sticky, ropey cum, some of it splashing onto your chin and neck.
"You're so hot when you're mad.." He grins like an idiot, tipping your chin up to look into your eyes adorningly and you couldn't help yourself from feeling your cheeks heat up at his boyish charm. At this point, his cock had a mind of his own, a low groan leaving his lips as he watched his seed tricking onto your pert nipples, getting impossibily hard.
"You need to return the favour now.." You sulked, even though you didn't mind being the giver. You were just playing pretend mad because you were liking your husband's seamless attention.
"With pleasure!" He exclaimed, picking you up and putting you on the couch, getting on his knees without a second thought, as if this was this final thing he'd do on earth. He spreads your legs, drinking in your pussy like his last meal and he wouldn't stop until you fist his hair and forcefully push him away. âĄ
©đąđđđđĄđąđąđ°đ«đąđđđŹ
Plagiarism not authorised. Likes and reblogs appreciated!
More on m.list!
#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x female reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader
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it's hard to explain because inevitably you sound like an asshole, but some people are allowed to lose their temper, lose their mind - you're not, though.
when your friend never texts you first and misses your birthday and never makes an effort; you don't mind. you know she's struggling, and you want her to get the help that she deserves. you give her every excuse and every chance.
it shouldn't matter to you so much that people are always coming through for her. you want her to be happy, you love it for her. you love that her community rises up to the occasion. why does it bother you that when she snaps at someone, says horrible mean things - but two hours later, everyone is comforting her while she's crying. you know she's stressed. why do you kind of hate that she is welcomed back to her job, that her parents are endlessly wiring her money.
and you're - fuck, are you envious?
but when you don't text back, someone sits you down and says i know you're struggling, but you're being a bad friend. when you're too numb to show up for work, your boss just shakes his head. i'm sorry. i can't approve more time off. we have the company to protect. when you finally snap back at your family for making that shitty comment again, you're forced to apologize for being too sensitive.
god forbid you need something. people aren't used to you being the one asking. you're the giver like the book you hated; your pages all open and rumpled. you always have the answer, always have the solution. you are reliable, trustworthy. people like you don't struggle with things. you're supposed to be lifted by tragedy. you are given a maximum of 24 hours to grieve, and then you need to just behave at the party.
you can't read the giving tree without feeling like crying, and even that feels like it's too much emotion. like, nobody looks at you and assumes you're the tree; they'd name five other people before even considering you in the running. you're just there, never-asking.
your friend gets to say mean shit, that's just her personality. when you make a snide comment, you're just being petty. people laugh when your friend stands you up for another event; they say she's just like that. you were 5 minutes late to a meeting with friends and they were mad about it for the rest of the evening. your friend sets everything on fire; everyone applauds her through the ashes. you so much as light a candle: and suddenly now you're an arsonist.
you don't want your friend to suffer, though. the thing is that you just wish that the empathy and kindness your friend gets - you wish you had that option, that everyone offered you grace and money and a gentle reception.
the other day you were fighting down the bad urge; the void call, the end note. you tried-anyway. you went to the family event, tried laughing at the right moments. nodded and smiled and all of it. one of your siblings threw a fit, but she's allowed to, so everyone just rolled their eyes about it. you took 3 whole minutes to stand outside when you got overwhelmed. you literally set a timer about it.
in the morning you woke up to a text from your parents: you were a complete disgrace last night. idk what your attitude problem is, but you really need to fix it.
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Best Secret Santa - The Grid x Driver! Reader
Plot: in which everyone wants to have Y/N as their secret Santa because she is the best gift giver and never fails to make peoples day by going above and beyond for it!
2017
âSo Y/N this is the first year of Secret Santa, how excited are you!â The F1 interviewer asks!
âIâm so excited! I love gift gifting itâs one of my love languages to show people that I know them, and I listen to them!â
âOkay are you ready to open your gift then?â She asks pushing forward a small bag that had presents wrapped up very nicely inside. You take the bag and look at the wrapping paper, it was well wrapped and good quality.
You open the first which feels as if it could be a wooden box but doesnât really indicate what it could be.
You see that you were correct and a wooden box with your favourite paint brand is there on the top. You unclip the clasp thatâs holding the lid down seeing the various paints.
âOh this is a good present, but not many people know that I paint on the grid.
âWho knows you paint in the grid?â She asks you.
âHmmm Romain Grosjean, K Mag, Kimiâ
âSo do you think it could be one of them?â
âMaybe⊠potentially Kimi, he knows me very well and has really helped me as a Red Bull Junior Driver and in my Rookie Year this Yearâ
âI think if you open the second present youâll know who your secret Santa isâ she explains and you take the second present of the table, it was pretty weighty but not as heavy as the paints.
âThis feels like a book, like a hard backâ you say as you start to tear into it. And it was, it was the Romain Grosjean book.
âItâs Romain!! Heâs my Secret Santa?â You look at the F1 with a massive wide grin making her smile back at her!
âWait, come with meâ she becons the lady and camera crew to follow her. She walks through the building they are all in, in Abu Dhabi until she finds Romain.
âRomain, Romain wait up wait upâ you shout running after him making the camera crew follow!
âAhhh i see you received my gift!â He exclaims and she pulls him into a thankful hug.
âPlease can you sigh it Mr Grosjean, Iâm a huge fan of your work in Haas!â You exclaim, handing him a pen making him chuckle but still sign the book he gifted to you!
âThank you for you timeâ you giggle before the cameras cut, and they decide to do Romains secret Santa while he is there.
*Flip*
âAnd now we are here with Lewis Hamilton who weâve interrupted from getting ready for his Mercedes After Party for his 4 time world championshipâ the F1 lady smiles at Lewis Hamilton and he kindly smiles back.
âSo your Secret Santa went all out, weâve had to set the cameras a little further back and youâve got some sizeable gifts here but they requested you read the card firstâ
âHoly shitâ Lewis says as they start to bring in a huge box (big enough to fit the likes of Toto Wolff inside) followed by a smaller bag to the left that had three neatly wrapped presents inside.
âWho, what the fuckâ Lewis says looking at the camera as if he was on the office. He looks at the F1 presenter who just shrugs her shoulders and waits for him to open the card.
âDear Lewis, Here are 4 gifts to commemorate your 4 World Championships! Have a great winter season, and hereâs to many more championships ahead! Love, Your Secret Santaâ he reads seeing the little doodles inside the card.
âAny ideas on who it could beâ she asks.
âNo clue, everyone on the grid would know how many championships Iâve won, so this doesnât give away muchâ he offers with a laugh. He grabs the bag wanting to leave the big present till last.
âOhhh a Vegan Cook book, so they know Iâm Vegan and a Japan Fridge Magnet. Okay so this is either Max or Y/N as they shared a podium with me, Iâm sure off it!â He grins before taking the next present out the bag.
âWhat is thisâ he says unwrapping a rather small but oddly shaped present.
âOh thatâs so cute itâs a Dog Collar for Roscoe! Wait, holy shit itâs personalised from Dior. Surely this canât be Max, is it Max?â He asks and the F1 presenter just shrugs.
âThank you, this honestly is very thoughtful as Roscoe is one of my favourite things and I love the brand and wear it all the time!â He grins.
âOkay, how about we attempt to open this bigger present. I donât actually know how youâll get this through customsâ
âIâm scared to see what it isâ Lewis laughs before tearing the box open. Inside is a surfboard that is hand painted on either side with Lewis car and many other little doddles to cover the board that has something to do with Lewis.
âOh woah a custom made board, this must have been really expensive to have madeâ he says observing it before picking out all the different doodles and talking about them.
âItâs not custom made, your Secret Santa actually Hand Painted this themselvesâ Lewis head snaps away from the board to look at the presenter in shock.
âOh itâs got to be Y/Nâ
âThat is correctâ
âY/N you are the cutest. I will use this board today here in Abu Dhabi before I make good use of it in the off season! Iâve never actually had anything like this before so thank you so much, you are so very thoughtful and you have the kindest soul! Thank you for everything and I hope to share a podium with you in 2018â he smiles grinning before turning his attention back to the surfboard.
2018
âHello Y/N it is now November 2018, after the final Grand Prix of the 2018 season. So you know what time that is!â The F1 presenter asks.
âSECRET SANTA!â You scream, pulling forward the presents, there was a medium sized box in front of you.
âCan I startâ
âOf courseâ
You pulled the lid of the box off and immediately gasp at the first thing that isnât wrapped that you can see what it is!
âOh my lord, how - Iâve been needing new camera lenses and a case for mine! I take pictures of everyone around the paddock! So it could be anyone, but I was talking to Max, Pierre and Dani about needing new lenses âŠâ you admit looking to see if the F1 presenter would give you a reactionary hint.
âOh and thereâs a small envelope. I hope you enjoy this retreat with your new lenses, maybe gain a new perspective before 2019â you read out before out of the envelope you pull out flight tickets, and a small cabin hotel booking confirmation for Italy.
âNo no no stop this is too muchâ you say tears filling up in your eyes.
âWho do you think it isâ the F1 presenter asks.
âItâs Dani Ricâ you cry, the words coming out strained as you look around to see if he is watching you.
âHowâd you knowâ she asks.
âBecause we had a talk about how I felt shit about this season and that the Torro Rosso wasnât built well this year. And how him leaving Red Bull wasnât an easy choice but it was one he had to makeâ you sob. The presenter comes over and pull you into a comforting hug rubbing your back and you hug into her more.
âHey Squirtâ an Australian accent comes from behind you and you fling yourself off the presenter and turn to look at the reason for your tears.
âYou made me cry on cameraâ you say pointing to the camera and then your gifts.
âAw Iâm glad you like them! I was worried I hadnât done well enough!â He grins rubbing your head before pulling you into a tight hug.
âI love them! And Iâll do better next year for you! I promiseâ you smile and he grins back at you!
*Flip*
âHello Charles, how are you!â
âI am very good thank you. I see that there is a lot of presents here, all varying in size and it worries me. This is my first year and I donât know many people that well!â He says looking between all the presents.
âWell hereâs the card that came with itâ she says passing over the red envelope that he opens the second his gets his hands on it.
âDear Charlie, hmmm thereâs not many that call me Charlie. Amazing first year in Alfa Romeo, canât wait to see what you do in Ferrariâ he reads out thinking of who it could be.
âItâs Y/N for sure. Between the amount of presents here and the note saying Charlie it must be her!â He exclaims before tearing into his first present. There were Alfa Romeo socks, with little jelly snake candies.
âAh to remember my time in Alfa Romeo, these Candies actually look so good! Thank you!â He says observing the candies.
âThis box is small, but heavyâ he observes before pulling out a watch box.
âOh my god, itâs a Ferrari watch. Look at this beauty! I will wear this now I thinkâ He offers showing the camera the Ferrari official watch youâd got him. He places it on his wrist, looking at it before grinning and showing the camera.
âOkay this next one looks very very big, and oh itâs super heavy. I donât even think I can lift that upâ
He starts to tear off the paper, showing a cardboard box with a stamp on top, of what Charles assumed to be the place sheâd got it from.
âAntiques Auction House? What is that?â He asks not knowing.
âItâs a place you bid to get rare objectsâ the F1 presenter grins and Charles looks up in shock. He carefully takes the tape off the lid and pulls the heavy hunk of metal out of the box. He pulls down the bubble wrap to reveal a Ferrari paddock sign.
âIs this real?â He gasps looking it over.
âYes, maybe take a look at the race itâs from and the yearâ the presenter asks pushing him to look at the front a little closer.
âMonza 1996, thatâs the year I was born! This gift, is so thoughtful and I will put it in my apartment where my sim is so everyone is able to see it when they come over! Hopefully this will bring me luck in Ferrari and in Monza next year so thank you Y/Nâ
He picks up the next gift which is small and flimsy. He immediately thinks itâs clothing.
As he tears open he holds up the t-shirt bursting out laughing looking at both sides.
On the front it was a radio from his that year printed on saying âwoHooooo, Oh Yes! That feels good! - France 2018â and on the back there were words that were printed on there saying âAsk me what happened in France 2018â as a funny sexual innuendo from how crude the radio has sounded with no context behind it!
âThis is hilarious and Y/N never fails with these joke gifts. Thatâs something Iâve noticed, I know this has only been done 2 years now but last year she had two jokey gifts for Lewis and 2 really nice thoughtful ones. This year I have similar! Sheâs a really good gift giver! She goes above and beyond!â
âShe really does! I always get excited, just to see what Y/N gets her Secret Santa each year!â
âI think after this, if they didnât before, everyone wants her as their gift giver!â
âOkay last gift Charlesâ
He open up to see a plastic CD cover, decorated by Y/N. He opens it up seeing a note inside.
âFor when you finally record something on the pianoâ he looks up at the presenter and he shows her the cute cover the artistic grid member has designed.
âThis is beautiful and I will fill it with tracks I will share with you Y/N thank you again and Merry Christmas Cheri!â He grins.
Y/N definitely spend over her own private budget this secret Santa but she couldnât help having a small crush on the Alfa Romeo, future Ferrari boy.
2019
âY/N, you know itâs my favourite time of the year just because you are here serving us once again with your amazing and seemingly limitless gift giving skills. I do have to ask how did you get that Monza pit boardâ
âWell, my dad is good friends with a Motorsport enthusiast, who has an auction house for Motorsports and Cars, and I won it in August, and was going to give it to Charles as an end or year well done/ Christmas present, but when I got him for secret Santa it made sense to put it in his giftsâ you explain.
âAmazing okay so here are you presents for the 2019 season!â
âOh my gosh I know who this is already! Itâs K Magâ you exclaims seeing the pottery set! Youâd been saying to him how you wanted to start getting into pottery and how youâd just brought one of the proper stoves to bake them in.
âWe spoke about this before, and of course this Metallica Funko Pop would have given it away if the pottery didnât! Omg I canât wait to make you and your wife a vase! Thank you so much! I will bring it with me at the start of next season!â You exclaim looking in awe at the two presents in front of you!
*Flip*
âLance Stroll, I think this year might be your lucky year, youâve got a decent size bag with three presentsâ the presenter says cheerfully making Lance smile back.
âIâm excited to see whatâs been brought for me! Okay first one obviously we have to open the card and see the message.
âDear Lance, Starting as rookies together was so much fun! Beating you was even better! Oh itâs either Y/N or Gasly, we all had our rookie year together in 2017!â He exclaims before pulling out the first present which was another envelope.
âYou know this is gonna be a voucher of some kind or like, a this was supposed to be your present but itâs not here. What could it be!â He asks opening it up.
âTennis lessons ⊠WITH ANDY MURRAY? Itâs gotta be Y/N right? They are both from the UK, and Iâm guessing someone she knows him? How the hell does she know him?â He laughs, he was really into tennis, if he ever had to quit motorsport he would got to tennis as his secondary option.
âThis is amazing, thank you Y/Nâ he smiles genuinely.
âI think him and Y/N were invited to meet the Queen. She wanted to meet Y/N for breaking records around women in motorsport. Theyâve played tennis together and sheâs driven him round Aintree in her Lamborghiniâ
âWoah thatâs crazy, so they are like friends? Well thank you Y/N and Andy watch out coz Iâm coming for you!â He says as he reaches for the next present which is very badly wrapped.
âI think this just be the joke present she gets alongside her good onesâ he says shaking it nothing giving away what it could be. He rips it open, to find a mug and a bottle of maple syrup!
âAh yes as a true Canadian, maple is necessary! And oh a mugâ
âTurn it round Lance, what does it say?â Laughs the presenter not actually knowing this was one of the presents.
âIt says Daddies Little Boyâ he laughs, knowing the joke in the paddock that he wouldnât ever loose his seat in F1 until he no longer wanted to race.
âThatâs hilarious, thank you Y/N Iâll be sure to show my dad this one. Okay onto the lastâ
He opens it up seeing a James Bond Limited Edition, signed Car from the movies in a mini form.
âItâs so funny, me and Y/N have arguments about this all the time. So they basically got her in Casino Royale as a stunt driver for one scene as she looks like Eva Green from the back. So she will always say that Casino Royale is the best Bond film, but I disagree I think itâs Quantum of Solace! Thank you Y/N for all of this! I canât wait for my Tennis lessons!â
2020
âWhat a year itâs been with this virus Y/N and what a stressful year it has been for you drivers. However youâve had some amazing drives, you had your first win this year with the new name for Toro Rosso under AlphaTauri! And we couldnât be happier for you. But, your moving up the ranks arenât you!â The presenter grins happily.
âYes as of 2021 I will stay in the Red Bull family but move alongside Max into the Red Bull Racing Honda team!â You exclaim! You were so happy to have been given the chance and had worked your but of last year in AlphaTauri coming P5 in the drivers championship. Christian Horner came to you and offered you the seat as youâd done better in the Tauri than Alex in the Red Bull.
âThis is just amazing news for you Y/N and we are excited to see what you can do alongside Max Verstappen in 2021!â
âOkay here are you presents for this year!â She says, you pull your mask up a little as it had dropped down as you were talking it repositioning it up and in the correct way.
âThese feel like drinks?â You question as you shake the box, when you peel it down you burst out laughing at the crate of Red Bulls in front of you. Everyone knew you were moving to Red Bull so this could literally be anyone.
âOh my gosh, and Lego Star Wars! LOOK ITS THE FALCONâ you yell excitedly. During COVID, youâd streamed alongside Alex, Charles, Lando and George as you liked playing games already and it was more fun with your friends. But you also did streams where youâd answer questions while building Legoâs.
âGuys, Christmas Falcon building stream??â You ask wiggling your eyebrows, however you didnât know if theyâd be able to see them with the Santa hat currently on top of your head.
âWho did you think it is?â The presenter asks.
âI feel like this one is so hard this year, everyone knows Iâm moving to RedBull and everyone knew I streamed, and my love for Star Warsâ you sigh, a hand rising up to your face in a thinking motion.
âItâs gotta be someone kind and funny. Lando? NO? hmmmm âŠDani Ric again? No? Pierre Gasly? NO? Oh my lord, erm Iâm not sure who is it??â You ask genuinely having no clue!
âIt was George Russell!â She exclaims and you grin widely!
âThank you so much George! I really appreciate this and I hope you drop in the steam where Iâm building it!â
*Flip*
âMax, what a year itâs been for you! Between some amazing races and coming P3, what can we expect from you in 2021â
âBecoming a world champion for sure, I think Y/N moving over to redbull at this time in my career is exactly what I need. She was giving me a run for my money in a mid field car this year, pushing it to its limits every race and outperforming the car. I think sheâs going to be competitive and push me further as both a teammate and a rival. Iâm excited to have her on boardâ he smiles nodding.
âOkay so hereâs your presents, they are numbered in the order you have to open them in!â She says pushing them forward.
âOkay present one, oh what is this OMG tickets to Moto GP. Beside F1 that is my favourite sport! And itâs during the summer break, thatâs incredible! Thank you so much! Thereâs two so that means I can take a friend I presume! Can I take the gifter?â He asks looking at the F1 presenter who nods, knowing you most likely wouldnât turn that down.
âNext one! Oooo woah, this is nice, look at this. This one here is me in, Malaysia I think. My first ever face win! Austria in 2018 is here, you can see the Bulk from the Red Bull Ring, oh and here is I think this must be my win in Brazil last year I want to say? And then Abu Dhabi from this year? That race was only yesterday, how did they⊠this has to be Y/N I donât know any other person who is this good at artâ he says pointing the painted canvas.
âOkay, this is the last one, so this has to be her joke one right?â He asks looking towards the people.
âRead the note here first, now that youâve worked out who it isâ she smiles pushing the letter forward.
âDear Max, I canât wait to drive alongside you next year. Or maybe in front of you, weâll just have to wait and see. Y/N
âI am very excited to drive with her next season. Itâs going to be a very close season with the changes Iâm sure will occurâ he says as he starts to pull from the bag.
âA Y/N pillow, this will travel with me as a travel pillow! Oh and a Y/N signed red bull cap. Youâll be signing a lot more of these next year, but Iâm honoured to get the first ever one!â He smiles nodding before looking at the camera for them to stop rolling.
2021
âY/N, what an amazing year youâve had a RedBull, coming in P3 and winner the constructors championship for Red Bull, how has the year been?â
âYeah itâs been phenomenal, driving with Max has really made me push myself to the limits. I think Iâm still warming up in the Red Bull this seasons and I made some mistakes which Iâve been focusing on improving each race and I think you can see that in my performance in the second half of the season. Iâm thankful to max for pushing me to be a better driver and Iâm excited for 2022 with Red Bull, and Honda!â
âObviously itâs our favourite time of the year! And we are going to be opening some presents!â She says pushing forward a small box. You grin looking at the very precise and very neat wrapping.
You open the box to find one of those cute adopt a penguin with the little plushie.
âAwww itâs so cute!â You exclaims holding up the little penguin.
âAnd I think thereâs a note in there about something elseâ the F1 presenter directs.
âHello Y/N itâs your fav mentor. Join me to meet this penguin on a AntĂĄrtica cruise! K.Râ
âKIMI, KIMI, KIMI! No this is too much!â You say looking at the presenter in panic.
âYour idol wants to go on holiday with you! How do you feelâ
âBlessed! Iâm so happy! I canât wait to go see the penguins with you Kimi!â You smile, hugging the penguin plushie close to your chest.
*Flip*
âLando, youâve got some large gifts hereâ
âYeah itâs Y/Nâ Lando immediately says looking at the wide array of gifts.
âYou havenât even opened at them yetâ she laughs.
âNo I know Y/N and sheâs the only one that puts THIS extensive effort into this! Iâve nailed it tho saying itâs Y/Nâ he smirks.
âOkay what have we got hereâ he says picking up the first which is a thinly wrapped envelope.
âSpa vouchers âŠâ he says before shaking his head trying not to laugh and look mock angry.
âI crash in spa, and this is what I get⊠thanks Y/N. Oh thereâs three vouchers. You can Max Fewtrell can come with me. Oh and some ⊠Valorant lessons? Are you saying Iâm bad at Valorant, just because your a sweat and your like Ascendent or some shit!â He grins out.
He grabs the next box, small yet heavy. He opens it seeing McLaren x Richard Mille.
âA watch! Woah this ⊠Iâm so happy to add this to my collection!â
âAnd itâs the only one ever made!â The presenter adds making him gasp and look underneath the watch at the engraving. A blush comes onto his face thanking the girl for the watch.
âOkay big box next!â He grins tearing into it.
âOh Y/N! Y/Nâ he says with a hand slapped to his mouth.
âWait no stopâ he says pulling the personalised helmet she made him with a note explaining it was for a good start to 2022.
âThank you Y/N and I canât wait to wear this next year itâs amazing!â He smiles showing it to the camera finding more and more funny things to laugh to himself about that were inside jokes between the pair of you.
2022
âY/N the fight between you Max and Charles was so close this year, and you only were a few points behind Charles in the end, taking a storm of a constructors win for Red Bull, so do think you and Charles will have a chance in 2023â
âYea of course! Iâve renewed my contract with Red Bull until 2025, so Iâm very excited at what it will bring!â
âAs usual itâs time for the best part of the season! Secret Santa, letâs see what youâve got this year!â She directs pushing forward the presents in front.
âA bottle of Sake! This will be from Mr Yuki Tsunoda, a Japanese delicacy that he introduced me to this year at the Grand Prix! Thank you Yuki! Weâll have to drink this together!â You smile before going to the next present.
âOh my gosh, a Bonsai and new tools! This is perfect for my garden in London! Look I have to show you!â She smiles showing the F1 presenter pictures of her garden going off on a rant of where she could place the new bonsai.
âThank you so much Yuki! Canât wait to race with you in 23â you smile at the camera.
*Flip*
âAlex! Hopefully Williams has been treating you wellâ the interviewer smiles happily.
âIt has, I think I got a lot out of the car this year which they can learn from in the future! Itâs been a year of learning for all of us and weâre happy with the improvements we madeâ he smiles.
âWell itâs Secret Santa time. Here are your giftsâ
âThis first one feels like a shirtâ he admits feeling up the packaging. He opens it and unfolds the top laughing at what was on the front putting it down and laughing into his hands.
âShow us what you got Alexâ she asks. He holds up the gifted top thatâs a picture of you and Lily holding hands walking through the paddock looking at each other loving. Above the picture in writing says âthis woman stole my girlfriendâ.
âLily will force me to wear this, I know it and she will agree with it and come running to the menace of a Secret Santa that gifted this to me! Thank you Y/Nâ he smiles charmingly at the camera.
âOkay, up next oh? Private golf lessons, with Lily at Hotchkin Course. It says hereâs the course is ours for the whole day! Woah, not only will I appreciate that but Lily will also enjoy that day out! Thank you so so much Y/N as usual you are the best!â
âHand painted golf balls, oh look so this one has the Thai flag on it, this one has the Williams logo on it, this one has a Lily flower on it, okay thatâs cute! Look at this detailâ he says holding the ball up close to the camera!
âThis is perfect! Thank you Y/N and have an amazing Christmasâ
2023
"Y/N you and Max have had an amazing season this year and have dominated formula one in Red Bull. You came P2 in the championship, not too far behind Max who won his 3rd championship!"
"Yes, its been an amazing year for us and I'm hoping that next year it will be me winning the Championship!" you grin looking at the presenter.
"Okay, so its the 7th year of Secret Santa on the grid! Are you excited! Because i am!" she says shoving the small bag towards you. You grin excited.
"Yes, okay so ooooo, I know who this is straight away and I think the fans are going to be really happy over this" you grin after you'd peeled the bag back seeing the first gift that was unwrapped and open for the eye to see.
You pull the object out showing hair bleach, toner and little tools and foils, and a note saying that you'll both dye it together and be matching blondes.
You show the camera, knowing fans will not only go wild for blonde Alex, but wild for you finally going blonde after saying for months that you would.
"This is a great gift, and we are going to get Lily to do this for us together!" you smile, before dipping into the bag and pulling the next gift out.
"Steal my GF coupons! OMG finally thank you Alex, i can finally get MY girlfriend Lily back. Guy's seriously when you next pan to her when she's in the paddock, please caption her as Lily Professional Golfer and Partner of Red Bull Driver Y/N Y/L/N. Please I'm begging you!" she laughs and the presenter writes something down on her phone.
"Thank you Alex for these amazing gifts and I will be sure to use both the coupons and the hair dye!" you grin, observing the contents of the hair dye.
"This is a good brand no? Lily must do a good job" you nod, hoping that Lily knows how to dye hair considering Alex's looked good the last time he had it done.
"Yes, its what they use for most of the KPOP Idols in Korea, you know how they dye their hair lots? This is what they use in order to keep it really nice and smooth"
*FLIP*
"Okay, here we have our all time favrioute Daniel Ricciardo, so happy to have seen you driving for AlphaTauri this year. Hopefully 2024 will be a good season for you and we can get some podiums back up there!" she smiles at Daniel who has his typical huge smile back.
"Thank you, lets get down to the real reason we are here! I want to see the presents whoever this is"
"Okay, so ooo a bike helmet. Hmmmm I've been saying to a few on the grid that i need a new one, but this is a really good brand. Okay next one" he smiles moving the bike helmet to one side.
"Ohhhh what the hell, someone has got me Talladega Nights, but they've photoshopped me into Ricky Bobby's place. Look at this. Did you guys get Jensen Button to join in this year?" he laughs showing the camera, the photoshopped version of the popular film among the drivers.
"That's really funny so i bet its got to be one of the young one. Maybe Lando? Or Y/N? or even Oscar my Aussie brother?" he says observing the disk before placing it against the bike helmet leaving it on show.
"A honey badger plushie... okay this is Y/N Lando no way would get me a plushie thats this cute" he jokes.
"Okay last one, holy shit. Do you know how the hell she managed to pull some of these gifts off?? I swear she's the actual St Nick sometimes!" he says looking at his final present. It was an envelope explaining something that you would do for him.
"So she's booked a venue, for her and Heidi in Milan to do a fashion show of my new clothes line that Iâve made in-front of anyone who wants to attend⊠thatâs so thoughtful. Thank you Y/N Iâm sure you and Heidi will look amazing on the runway! Thank you and see you on the track more next year!â He smiles.
Taglist:
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#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#f1 secret santa#secret Santa formula one#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc#daniel ricciardo#pierre gasly#alex albon#lando norris#romain grosjean#kevin magnussen#max verstappen#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri#george russell
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