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#SO FUCKING EXCITED WOOO
spearxwind · 1 year
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IT IS TIME. BASTARD FAMILY LINEUP 2023 BABY!!!! WOOO!!
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weaselmcdiesel · 2 years
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some doodles :1 will probably not upload as often bc of school BUT i may post more doodles n sketches n hilarious jokes on my spam @weaselishmcdiesel which i dont advertise too much on this blog ^^;
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mariska · 4 months
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well! bye everyone i'm off to re-read my fav book trilogy of all time that i havent read since their original releases when i was a teenager and also finally get to read the prequel that i never got around to reading for the first time so. i'll see u guys on the other side and by other side i mean i'll see u guys when i re-emerge into society drenched in blood and tears rambling about all the new mental evidence i will have collected for my years-long headcanon that Katniss is autistic and sobbing about how many more details of the whole story i understand on a more profound and deep level than my teenage self was capable of processing properly
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wings-of-angels · 4 months
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WOOOOOOOOO JUST CAME BACK FROM A UNI OPEN DAY
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vilepie · 10 months
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i dont even know what month it is. stressing out about rusliet week then realising its only june tmrw smh
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daydadahlias · 1 year
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slaying??
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omg always slaying look at this COWWWWWW and this ashton era where he looked like he was surviving an apocalypse which,, yknow i guess we all kind of were.
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froggyrights · 2 years
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HELLO?!?!?! EVERYONR DHUT UP AND LOOK AT MY SONNN
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fagdykebassboy · 6 months
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^ When i get outta here
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quozy-exists · 7 months
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I GOT A JOB!!! I GOT A JOB I GOT A JOB WOOOOOOOO!!!!
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captainfern · 4 months
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141Rugby!au [18+]
• Part Four - Greedy •
Captain John Price x fem!reader
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
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You've recently started a new job as a physiotherapist for an English Rugby Union team. It's your job to ensure that all the players are in top shape for upcoming games against other strong teams. This job is absolutely perfect for you: good pay, good hours, a fun and exciting atmosphere to be apart of. But there's just one thing you can't seem to understand– the same four players seem to need more attention than the rest.
chapter summary - the captain confronts you about your relationships with his teammates. his reaction isn't what you expected lol.
rating - 18+
wordcount - 7.8k
chapter warnings - fem!reader, slow-ish burn [but not really cause ik you're here for the porn], body worship (price is literally obsessed with you fr), fingering, handjob, mentions of foursome/sharing, unprotected piv, sex in a car wooo, praise, multiple orgasms, tummy bulge?, price has a sir kink, strong language
disclaimer - physiotherapist, or staff x player sexual relations are not allowed in the real world. but please keep in mind this is fanfiction. it's fake. if you have an issue with inappropriate relations with faculty, blurred morals [etc], then please do not read. additionally, reader be fucking in this series. all four. separately, and at once. it's not cheating, i promise. it's consensual sharing <3
Price is a flanker – provides support play, maintains possession of the ball, and is both fast and strong defensively. price is also the captain of the team, of course.
see my rugby union introductory for definitions of rugby words
<- part three | part five ->
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
After your little... encounter with Simon, he helped clean you up. He gave you a pair of his joggers– which were baggy, but you tied them tightly using the drawstring, and they worked just fine. He then helped (watched) you clean the cum and saliva off your face with a cocky smile resting on his lips. When you finally did shoo him out of your office, he snuck one more quick kiss to your lips, before disappearing out of the door.
Back at your desk, you lit your favourite smelling candle to permeate the air and hopefully eliminate as much of the smell of you and Ghost as you could. But ultimately, this was a physio's office. It's bound to have a lingering smell of sweat and body-odour from the players anyway, so hopefully no suspicion would be aroused.
You also opened your window just a sliver to allow a steady stream of cool air to enter the space. Because, as you sat at your desk, you couldn't help but feel warm. Warm, because your body was still alight with the feeling of Simon– his hands on you, this thigh between your legs, his cock in your mouth...
A heartbeat appeared between your legs, and you tossed your head back with a groan. Not now, for crying out loud. You ran your hands down your face, before trying to settle yourself comfortably in your chair. But it was hard to do so when you could still smell Simon's cologne in the material when you angled your head a certain way. Even over the sweetness of the candle, and the light smell of rain in the cool breeze, you could still smell him. And that made your stomach flip, your cunt leaking into your already drenched underwear.
It was unpleasant, but you had just one more appointment before a break. Then you could go home and get changed and hopefully ignore the smug look Simon'll give you all day. Great.
A soft knocking on your door drew you away from your thoughts, and you looked up in time to see Price poke his head in. He smiled warmly, eyes squinting as he entered your office, and you returned the smile as best you could as you quelled the twisting in your lower stomach.
"Morning, captain," you greeted, gesturing to one of the chairs sitting opposite the desk. "Have a seat."
"Morning, doc," Price said as he sat down, his hips immediately shifting in the chair as his legs spread, hands clasped over his lower stomach. You forcibly ignored the movement to stare intently at your computer screen. Price looked around your office. "This might be my first visit, actually."
"It sure is," you said. "And how are you feeling?"
Price's eyes were on you the second you spoke. "I'm feeling fine, thanks, doc."
"That's good..." You uttered, before spinning around in your chair to fish his file from the paper copies in the back. Once you found it, you slapped it open on your desk, skimming your eyes over it. "Okay, so it's a shoulder injury, right? Talk me through what happened."
Price pulled up the short sleeve of his right arm, exposing the joint of his shoulder. He also exposed the strong, curved muscles of his upper arm and the way the tendons flexed when he held it towards you for a better look.
"S'just something sore in the top here–" Price tapped his fingers against the curve of his shoulder just beside the bone. "Not sure what it is. I hit a tackle a bit hard last game, and it hasn't come right."
You nodded along, listening attentively. "Does it usually get better on its own?"
Price nodded. "Yeah, I just have a bath and I'm good as new. But this one's causing me a bit of strife these past couple'a days."
You scribbled a few things down on his file before standing up with a clap of your hands, gesturing to the medical table. Price got the hint, making his way over and perching himself on the edge, his feet still on the ground. Meanwhile, you grabbed a few things from the cabinetry nearby, and approached one he had settled.
"D'you mind taking his off?" You asked him, tugging at the material of his training shirt.
He chuckled, using his good arm to pull it up and over his head. "If you wanted me to strip, doc, you could've asked me earlier." He joked, finally pulling the rest of his shirt off and letting it sit on his lap.
You rolled your eyes. "Very funny."
Fucking hell.
You physically had to turn your head towards his shoulder, rather than allowing your eyes to rake down the expanse of his torso. Price was made up of thick muscle, not necessarily defined in taut lines, but in curves along his body. His pectoral muscles, the bulges in his biceps and forearms, the slight pudge in his stomach as he sat. His chest and abdomen was brushed with short, dark hair– slightly lighter than his facial hair, though– and your body had a genuine reaction at the dark happy trail disappearing into the waistband of his trousers. Oh my god.
You shifted your body simply in the direction of his right arm and shoulder, using both of your hands to get a feel of the area. His skin was warm beneath your palms, and you couldn't help but feel slightly nervous at the way he watched you too. Gently, you squeezed and around the bone of his shoulder, then up along the ridge towards the junction of his neck. You pressed firmly to the muscles above the shoulder blade, and then trailed your fingers back down towards his collarbone.
"Any pain through here?" You asked as your hands moved, fingers pressing into the muscles just above the collarbone.
He shook his head. "Nothing too bad."
"Nothing too bad?" You echoed him through a question. "Price, you need to tell me if there's a bit of pain. I don't want you just ignoring it if it hurts."
Price spared a smile, and you found yourself liking the way his facial hair moved with his cheeks as his mouth curled upwards. Then you found yourself internally scolding yourself.
"S'just the space just below my shoulder, on my back–" Price tried to move to point with his sore arm, but he stopped with a subtle wince you picked up before the expression dropped.
"Okay, why don't you sit back down on this chair, captain?" You prompted, dragging the chair he was just on over to the medical table. You pointed to it again, and Price slipped off of the table and sat down in the chair.
At this angle, you could now easily access his back– the broad, rippled expanse of his back.
Get it together.
With gentle firmness, you pressed into the spot just below the shoulder joint, nearing the top of the armpit. You felt his muscles flex beneath the skin, and you immediately withdrew. When the pressure of your hands left, Price looked over his shoulder to see what you were doing.
"Do you have any muscle weakness at all asides from the obvious pain?" You asked, moving to Price's side and taking hold of his upper arm.
He watched you with calculating eyes as your fingers moved along the curves of his bicep muscles, up until just below his armpit, where you squeezed the muscles again, and he grit his teeth. You noted the reaction as he answered your question.
"No weakness, just pain," he told you. "And it get's a bit stiff too. When I, you know, keep it in a certain position for too long."
"Mhm, mhm..." You hummed in acknowledgement, moving behind him once more. You still had one hand on his bicep and with that hand, you carefully pushed his arm upwards. Your other hand lay flat against the back of his shoulder, feeling the movement of the tendons as you lifted his arm. "Does it hurt when you move it this way?"
You lifted his arm until it was parallel with his shoulder. He shook his head, but you could see the way his jaw clenched. You sighed to yourself, bringing his arm back down to his side and giving him a few supportive taps on the lower arm.
"You have to tell me when you're in pain, captain, or I can't help you." You told him.
Price sighed. "Fine, yeah, it's sore when you do that."
You smiled. "Thank you." Then, you pressed your hand flat to the shoulder again, and instructed him to hold his arm out forward. He did, and you felt the tendons pull and shift beneath your palm. You allowed him to settle while you rounded your desk and noted a few things down on your file.
Price cocked his head. "Is... are we done?"
"Almost," you said, looking up at him and smiling. "You can put your shirt back on."
"Oh, right..." Price grumbled, then slowly pulled his shirt back on. He did it with ease as you finished writing in your file, now sitting comfortably in your desk chair.
"So it seams you've just got some inflammation of your rotator cuff," you told him, looking up from your file and tapping the tip of your pen against it absentmindedly. "You don't have much muscle weakness, which is good, meaning it's probably not a tear in your tendons. I'd say the cuff's just a tad bruised, so it should heal up in no time."
"My rotator what?"
"Your rotator cuff. It's a bunch of tendons and ligaments that support your arm where it connects to your shoulder," you told him, pointing at your own arm for example. "It's a common injury to have the tendons get a bit bruised from a tackle, or from scrums and what not."
"Right, okay..." Price nodded at your words.
You smiled at him once more. "Do you have any questions?"
Price cleared his throat. "Uh, well, what's the healing time on this?"
"Oh, right. Well, because it's not a tear or anything major like that, it could just take a couple of weeks to get the pain sorted and for the tender ligaments to sort themselves out," you said. "All you need to do is rest it, apply ice every once in a while to reduce any swelling or pain, keep on top of anti-inflammatory and pain medication– oh that reminds me, I'll send an email to the doctor to prescribe you with the right stuff."
You moved to your computer now, beginning to curate your email. Across the desk, Price watched patiently, eyes on you the entire time. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Half way through writing the email, you looked over at him and met his gaze. Maybe you should just make conversation, since the weight of his stare was sending all sorts of nervousness into the pit of your stomach.
"How're the lads going, Price?" You asked with your eyes on him, before chickening out with the eye-contact and returning to the email you were supposed to me sending.
Price leaned back in the chair, hands clasped over his stomach once more. "Yeah, not bad, doc. We're on a bit of a win streak, which always makes things better, doesn't it?"
You laughed politely, and also genuinely– because you know it's true. Hell, Soap and Gaz wouldn't shut up about the number of tests they've one so far this season, and their egos seemed to shoot through the roof.
"It definitely does help," you told him. "And have the boys been behaving themselves? Johnny's always up to something, isn't he? And I can imagine Gaz would be much the same."
Price let his eyes wander across your face and briefly over the rest of your body too– well, what he could see above the desk, anyway. He hummed a response, a sure from the back of his throat, as his eyes skimmed over you. He tilted his hips in the chair, his clasped hands now resting on his lap.
"Not sure if those lads can behave themselves, if I'm being honest," Price laughed, shaking his head at memories of his boys. Then, his laughter flitted out and the heat of his gaze settled back over you like a veil. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip in thought, still leaning comfortably in the chair, the pain in his shoulder almost forgotten about. "What do you think, doc? Have they been behaving themselves?"
Perceptive, analytical as always, Price saw the way you shifted in your chair. He noticed the way some kind of expressive emotion flashed through your pretty eyes, and he picked up on the way the corners of your mouth twitched ever so slightly– a frown or a smile, he wasn't quite sure, but the movement had a surge of pride filling his chest.
His boys had been treating you well. He knew that, of course. Gaz had already told everyone about how he pursued you and how, like the perfect thing you were, let him. Price'd also heard about Soap's little adventures in wooing you as well, although slightly less graceful than the winger. Last but not least, he knew that Ghost wanted you too. He knew the number 8 had a plan to have you, just like Gaz and Soap did. And judging by the way you shifted in your seat, the way you had a slight unbalance in your walk and the (obvious) fact that you were wearing Ghost's joggers, Price knew the lads had been successful.
It wasn't so much of a game to Price as it was to the boys. Obviously, they all did genuinely care for you, and appreciate everything you did for them, but the chase of it all was way too fun to ignore. But with Price, he thought– no, he knew– that he didn't need to chase you around like a bunch of horny dogs. He didn't have to apply any sly tactics to get you to talk to him. He just had to be himself because, based on the way you reacted when he so much as glanced in your direction, he knew. He knew you wanted him, too.
"Have they been behaving themselves?" Price repeated, watching the way your fingers paused over the keyboard.
You took a deep breath and sent the email, before turning to face Price with as much courage as you could. Did he know? Fucking hell, how did he know? It was all so confusing– how on earth did Gaz, Soap, Ghost and now Price know just the right things to do to get you worked up? It was almost as though they were conspiring with each other.
Oh, wait a fucking second...
You felt embarrassment flare through you as you met the captain's eyes. He smiled calmly at you as your head flopped and you hid your face in your hands.
"Please don't tell me they told you..." You all but squeaked into your palms, with the hopes of shielding yourself from whatever comment Price was about to make.
Price released a low chuckle. "Told me what, sweetheart?"
Your body heated up at the term of endearment. What was wrong with you? Four fucking rugby union players? Are you serious?
"Don't make me say it," you groaned, finally moving your hands away from your face. "Oh, god, I am so fucking sorry. I know it's– oh my god, this is so embarrassing– I'm so sorry. I'll quit–"
"Woah, woah, woah, doc, calm down," Price said quickly, holding up his hands in a gesture for you to take it easy. "It's alright, I promise. It's okay."
You chewed nervously on your bottom lip as the heat of his gaze was almost too much for you. You squirmed in your seat, Ghost's joggers almost too hot against your legs. Your stomach was in knots.
"If... if you're referring to you and the boys' little... encounters, then yes, they have told me," Price said softly. "And– listen to me, doc– it's okay. It's completely okay."
You placed your hands on your cheeks, cupping your face as your stomach swooped with each of his words. He was still leaning so casually in that chair that it was almost unnerving. But his tone was soft and genuine, and the sparkle in his eyes was still there as he looked across the desk at you.
"I'm... I'm not in trouble?" You whispered.
Price shook his head. "Of course not."
"And... you're not mad at me?"
"Mad at you?" Price frowned. Now he leaned forward, bringing the broad frame of his upper body closer to you. "Why would I be mad at you? Why would I be angry that you're taking care of my boys, hm?"
Taking care. Your whole body flushed with heat at that, goosebumps raising across your skin as you cupped your face tighter, a whine eliciting from the back of your throat. You weren't sure if the sudden sensations you were feeling was from the sheer embarrassment of this situation, or the fact that Price's comforting words, paired with the baritone of his voice, was– oh my god– turning you on.
What the hell was your life at this point.
"Price–" You whispered.
"Why don't I take you out to dinner, and we can talk a bit more about it. How does that sound?" Price asked, getting to his feet. Instinctively, you got to your feet as well, but you remained tucked behind your desk. You weren't sure if you were grateful for the small barrier between you and the imposingly attractive man on the other side of it.
"Are you sure?" You voiced, tentative. Your eyes darted behind Price to the door, where you could hear the rumbled voice of the coach echoing down the hall. Your stomach turned.
Price obviously knew what you were thinking. "It's okay, doc. You can come to dinner with me without getting in trouble. I promise you. I wouldn't compromise you like that."
You chewed your bottom lip again, thinking. When you did finally look back at Price and forcibly maintain eye-contact (which was difficult considering he was looking at you like he wanted to bend you over your fucking desk), you nodded.
"Yeah... dinner would be nice, thank you."
He smiled. A wide grin. "Yeah? Alright then, sweetheart. I'll pick you up at six-thirty. How does that sound?"
Your eyes widened, stomach flipping again. "Oh, tonight?"
Price nodded.
"Oh... oh, okay, yeah. Six-thirty's good."
"Good," Price was still smiling. "I'll pick you up then."
As he headed for the door, so casually that it made your heart rate pick-up, you called after him: "Don't you want my address?"
Price chucked as he opened the door. He looked over his shoulder and winked at you. "I'll just ask Gaz." And then he was gone.
Your entire body was on fire. What had you gotten yourself into?
•º•º•
Six-thirty rolled around and you were ridiculously nervous. You didn't know what to expect, and you had half the mind to just cancel and then lock yourself in your bedroom for the next few years. But when a knock sounded at your door at six-thirty exactly, you swallowed your nerves and opened the door to fine Price standing there.
The captain was well dressed, and you couldn't help but stare at how fucking good is arms looked in the dress-shirt. After exchanging pleasantries (kept to a minimum since you were afraid you might pass out if you talked too much), Price led you to his car and helped you into the passenger seat. He got in on the other side and drove off. You fidgeted with your fingers on your lap.
"You look gorgeous, sweetheart," Price said, sparing a look at you while driving. You felt yourself warm at his words, fidgeting with one of the rings on your fingers. He noticed, and reached his hand across the centre console and blanketed both of yours in one of his. "It's okay, doc. There's nothing to be nervous about."
"Nothing to be nervous about?" You asked as he began stroking his thumb along your knuckles. You hated admitting to yourself you liked it– and that you missed it once he pulled his hand away. "I have a lot to be nervous about, Price. One reason being I'm probably going to lose my job–"
"Why would you lose your job?" Price asked genuinely.
"Why would I lose my job?" You looked at him as though he was crazy. "Do you realise what–?"
"That's enough of that. You're not going to lose your job," Price decided to interrupt you before you had the chance to spiral. "You've done nothing wrong."
"That's not true–"
"You've done nothing wrong except look after my lads who, by the way, are very, very thankful," Price glanced at you, annunciating the second very in a way that made your heart skip a beat. He turned back to the road. "They're very grateful too. Not only have you patched up their injuries, you've given 'em something to focus on."
"Focus on?" You frowned.
Price nodded. "They tend to do better during games, and focus better during trainings when they know you're watching. And they love it when you watch. Makes 'em feel... proud."
"Proud?"
"Mhm, proud," Price said. "They're proud of themselves that they have a pretty thing like you keeping an eye on 'em, and they're proud of you for paying attention to 'em."
"Right..." You mumbled, eyes looking out of the windshield at the steady, fast-moving flow of traffic you and Price were behind.
Silence filled the car as you stared out the window, fingers still spinning and sliding one of your rings up and down your finger. You also chewed on your bottom lip briefly, all kinds of thoughts whizzing through your head. So many thoughts were bouncing around your brain that you were surprised that you weren't dizzy yet.
After allowing for a few moments of silence, Price glanced at you once more, clearing his throat. "Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?"
You turned to face him this time, altering your attention towards him rather than the road. You nodded, humming your consent and you watched as he stewed over the question in his head, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.
"You like me how you like the boys?" Price asked gently. "Or are you just acting all shy 'cause I'm the captain?"
He looked at you once the car rolled to a stop at a red-light. The red reflections of the car infront's break lights reflected in Price's eyes, and you wondered whether your eyes appeared a glassy red too.
Despite your nervousness, the anxious bubbling in your stomach, the slight tremor in your fingers, you mustered up enough courage to look him dead in the eyes and say, "I think you're smart enough to figure that out yourself."
Price's eyes darkened, but his lips curled into a smile. The lights turned green, which drew his eyes back onto the road. After a moment of driving, of turning a corner and adjusting his speed to the traffic, Price glanced at you again.
"Four rugby lads, doc? You got a thing for four, hm? S'abit greedy, isn't it?" He almost purred, and the butterflies in your stomach were no longer there because of nerves, but because of... well... horny.
You shrugged, a rueful smile appearing on your face as the car stopped at another red light.
"There's nothing wrong with being a bit greedy, is there?" You prompted, eying the captain with purpose. "Besides, it's not an issue if everyone shares, is it?"
Price tutted at you, shaking his head with a sly grin on his face. He looked at you in such a way you swore you could've melted into the car seat. "M'not sure if you've noticed, sweetheart, but my lads and I... well, we work as a team, yeah? And we certainly don't have a problem with sharing. Especially when we all really want something."
"Hmm..." You hummed and the light turned green. Price almost didn't notice with how locked-in he was on you. You gave him a little nod– pay attention, captain– so that he'd continue to drive and not anger any of the cars behind.
Now, it was your turn to reach across the centre console and place a hand on the thick expanse of Price's thigh. God, you had been wanting to do that for so fucking long. And, making your heart flutter, Price settled a hand on top of yours and held it firmly. Warm and solid and secure.
"Have you shared in the past?" You asked, and Price's quick response was a shake of the head.
"Not like this," Price answered truthfully. "Not– not like this, no. We've talked about it, but we've never... agreed on anyone. Until..."
"Until?" You raised your brows.
Price smiled. "Until this pretty little physio strolled through the front doors of the rec room and made half the bloody team fall in love with her in the first fifteen seconds."
You laughed. "Half the team?"
"Mhm."
"Well, good thing I don't want half the team," you told him, finger's squeezing his thigh. He sucked in a breath. Your smile grew. "I only want four, and that's fair, isn't it?"
Your hand squeezed and groped the thick muscle of Price's thigh, and you could visibly see the way he stiffened– the way his body tensed up at your touch, waiting expectantly to see where your hand would move too. But you didn't move it from the spot around mid-thigh, petting him there beneath the weight of his large hand.
"Seems fair..." Price grunted, jaw tensing. Your fingers simply squeezing his fucking thigh was enough to have a significant amount of blood rushing towards his cock.
He tried to concentrate on the road. He really did. But your touch on his leg and– christ– the weight of your stare against the side of his face was enough for him to slowly lose focus. He missed the turn towards the restaurant but, as he was about to express his frustrations at having missed the turn, you opened that pretty little mouth of yours.
"Price..."
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
Finally, fucking finally, your hand trailed higher, and Price let you. He let your fingers skate just shy of the crevice between his thigh and groin, where his cock was definitely half-hard in his trousers. Price gripped your fingers tighter, but made no move to stop you. It was just purely to make sure he didn't absolutely lose it.
"M'not that hungry anymore. Well, not for food, anyway."
•º•º•
It didn't take long for Price to find a secluded carpark down an empty street to pull into. Maybe it's because he was speeding, maybe not. Either way, it also didn't take him long for him to settle himself into the backseat and pull you with him. And it certainly didn't take long for your clothes to be removed, and for him to be dragging his hands down every inch of your beautiful body.
Price groaned low in his throat the entire time he worked you with his hands and fingers. As you straddled his lap, he groped and grasped at your breasts, kneading the soft flesh against his hardened fingers and palms. He pinched lightly at the buds of your nipples, tweaking them with his thumbs, watching you closely as you arched against him.
His hands didn't stay in one place for too long, as though he was eager to touch you everywhere. His hands coasted down your sides, squeezing the expanse of your waist and hips, rocking you against him. Price watched the way he could manipulate your supple skin beneath his hands, the way he could form ripples and folds against the flesh beneath his probing fingers.
"You're fucking perfect," Price muttered as his hands moved from your hips to your thighs, running up and down. You whined quietly as he grabbed at your thighs, before shifting his hands back to your midriff, where he pawed at your stomach. His hands were big and warm, and one pushed down on the pudge of your lower stomach, pressing lightly. He groaned. "God, I can't wait to stuff this pretty tummy with my cock, sweetheart."
He said it so quietly, so tenderly, that it didn't make you moan. Instead, you released a whimper of his name as his gaze remained transfixed on where he pushed against you. Finally, he tore his gaze away, his eyes instead darting over every single inch of your face.
"You're gonna feel it right here, doc," Price pushed gently again, and you couldn't help but squirm against him. He hummed, content, as though the thought alone was absolute bliss. Which, to him, it was. "Yeah... yeah, m'gonna fill you up with my cum, n' you're gonna really feel my cock, aren't you, sweetheart? Gonna feel it right here in this pretty tummy..."
He rubbed your stomach as he leaned forward, his other hand clasping the back of your neck to drag you into a heated kiss. You whined against his lips as he split your mouth open with his tongue, delving inside with warm flicks against your own. You held onto his broad shoulders– minding his injury– and began absent-mindedly grinding down against him. He was still fully dressed, and that turned you on even more.
Price got the hint. He pulled out of the kiss, the small bit of facial hair just below his lower lip sparkling with your spit. He didn't go far though, as he continued mouthing at you, dragging his lips along your jaw and then down your neck.
"Unbutton my shirt." He whispered against your neck before skimming his teeth against the skin and sucking. You obeyed, popping the buttons of his shirt with shaking fingers. You managed to undo all of them by the time Price was finished practically chewing on your neck, judging by the amount of saliva and visible teeth indents against you. You expected something like that from Johnny, not Price. But either way, it turned you on. Of course it did.
"That's a good girl, well done." Price nosed at the bottom of your ear before pulling away and shucking the rest of his shirt off. His trousers followed– he popped the button under your excited gaze, unzipping them, before lifting his hips to pull them down.
He did so with you still on his lap, his strength not at all surprising. After his trousers were bunched up beneath you now, his boxers followed, and you let out a loud moan as his cock sprung free against his abdomen. Immediately, you grabbed hold of it, and Price released a thick grumble that had your cunt dripping onto his lap.
He wasn't as long as Simon, but Price was fucking thick. The weight of him in your hand had you whimpering, and the beads of pre-cum settling against his slit made your stomach flip. You ran your fingers gently up and down the solid, velveteen length, watching more and more pearls of pre-cum begin dribbling out of the reddened tip. He huffed out a breathy groan, watching the movement of your hand as your foreheads came together.
As you gently stroked his cock, one of Price's hands slipped down from your tummy to your thighs. His fingers traced the silken skin of your inner thighs before he found your slick core, his hand cupping you there for a moment before he ran a single digit up and down your folds.
You moaned against him, his finger joined by a second, now toying with your clit with tiny ministrations, as though you were made of glass. Your hand on his cock faltered as zaps of pleasure appeared in the base of your spine, forcing you to arch and wriggle in Price's lap. His fingers were warm and almost rough against the sensitive bundle of nerves, but you were in heaven– his circles growing deeper, his touch falling heavier as he drew shapes against you.
You moaned again, and this time, Price caught it with his mouth. He kissed you deeply, smoothing his tongue against your own as his fingers moved from your clit to your dripping hole. He wasted no time in pushing two fingers inside you, catching more of your moans in his mouth. He moaned too at the feeling of your tight, wet walls constricting around his fingers, your arousal smearing against his hand.
"Fuck, Gaz was right," Price groaned as he pulled out of the kiss, dropping his head to suck at the column of your throat. "This is such a perfect– fuckin'– pussy–" He punctuated his sentence with thrusts of his fingers, ripping whimpers from you.
His fingers worked quickly, thrusting in and out of you and filling the car with obscene, wet squelches. The windows– tinted, thankfully– were slowly beginning to condensate as you ground yourself down onto Price's hand while stroking his cock.
His cock twitched and leaked in your grasp, so hard that you could feel the heat of him against your palm. The flushed tip was leaking so much pre-cum that you had only had to spit once into your hand to slicken your movements.
Your stomach was no longer alight with butterflies or nerves. You felt confident and, hell, happily horny as you jerked off the captain of one of the best rugby union teams in the United Kingdom. As Price's head moved back to take a good look at you against his lap, it was your turn to lean forward and suck kissed up the side of his neck. He groaned loudly when you attached your lips to his skin, the vibrations tickling your lips as you sucked. You continued sucking kisses all the way up to the base of his ear, before nipping playfully at his earlobe.
"Oh, fuckin' hell..." He grunted, hips bucking into your fist, his fingers losing rhythm inside you for just a moment.
But he found his memento soon after you whispered into his ear, "You're making me feel so good, sir."
Sir. Sir, sir, sir–
Price leaned his head back against the headrest and groaned outwardly, the word sending even more blood (if that was even possible at this point) to his cock, more pearls of pre beading at the ruddy tip. He groaned your name, his fingers increasing their pace, the heel of his hand grinding into your clit.
"Sir? Yeah, that's right, sweetheart, call me sir." Price whispered as you sucked a bruise just below his Adam's apple. It bobbed at the feeling of your tongue and teeth laving against him. His fingers curled inside you, and you mewled against his skin.
His fingers, long and thick and hitting that good spot inside you, pulled you closer to release as you continued to fist his cock. You prised yourself away from his throat, giving yourself just a second to admire your handiwork, before you were tossing your head back as your entire body began to tremble. Your hand on his cock desperately tried to maintain pace, but you struggled with the way in which his fingers were fucking you. It was hard to focus on anything else but that.
"S'alright, sweetheart, let go've my cock and come 'round my fingers, it's okay," Price whispered, eyes on your face as he continued to curl his fingers inside you, thrusting upwards. You tried to keep your fingers moving around him, whining at him that you wanted to keep stroking his cock, but he shushed you, using his free hand to cup your face gently. "I said it's alright, doc. Jus' want you to come, yeah? Don't worry 'bout me, jus' come 'round my fingers."
Your mind wanted to ignore him, but your body listened– your hands flying up to hold onto both of his shoulders just as your orgasm rocked through you. You came around his fingers with a stuttered moan of his name, your hips tilting and rocking against his hand, his palm still flat against your swollen clit. He fingered you through your release, that had waves of heat rolling across you, his eyes transfixed on your face.
"An' Soap was right, too..." Price muttered, removing his fingers from your cunt and forcibly shoving them passed your lips and into your mouth. It was the first time of the night he wasn't gentle. "You do look fuckin' gorgeous when you come."
Before you had a chance to lazily wind your tongue around his fingers, he pulled them out of your mouth and sucked them into his own. It was lewd and wet, but the sight of his eyelids fluttering shut at the taste of you made your core begin to throb again.
You wondered if these men were increasing your libido somehow.
Price removed his fingers from his mouth and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock. He fisted himself for a second, his other hand moving to your hip to urge you to rise just a bit. You did, holding onto his shoulders for support, as you hovered over him. Then, Price guided his cock until it was aligned with the slick entrance of your cunt, before rubbing the leaking tip back and forth between your folds.
You mewled when he circled the head around your hole, probing gently but never pushing any further than a few centimetres. He did this repeatedly, his eyes on your face, watching your expression as he teased the head of his cock against your cunt. Eventually, you looked down at him with a fucked-out frown– your best orgasm-drunk attempt at scowling– and whispered, "Please fuck me, Price. Need you so bad."
"Aw, do you, sweetheart? You need my cock?" Price queried with just the right amount of condescension in his tone to have you wriggling against him.
"No– well, yes– but need you. Please, sir, please."
Slowly, Price pulled you down as he slanted his hips upwards, pushing his cock into your wet hole. You let out a desperate moan, clutching his shoulders as you sunk down onto him. The wet heat of your cunt swallowed him, your silky walls clinging to every ridge and vein on the length of his cock as he bullied his way inside you. Price moaned too, low and deep, switching between watching his cock disappear inside you, and watching the changes in your facial expression.
"There we go, sweetheart..." He bottomed out inside you, the tip of his cock nudging that spot inside you that had sparks bursting in your tummy.
You whined, pawing at him, dragging your hands down his bare abdomen and running your fingers through the coarse hair. Your fingers found his happy trail, and you rubbed the pads against it, whining still.
Price stilled, not yet thrusting. He chuckled lowly. "You like that?"
"Yeah, fuck," you said breathlessly. "Wanna kiss it."
"You can kiss it next time," Price told you, kissing you gently on the cheek. "This time, 'm gonna fuck you like you deserve."
That's when he held both of your hips and snapped his pelvis upwards, driving his cock deeper into you. You choked on a moan when he pulled out slightly and then shunted himself back in, proceeding to repeat those movements over and over and over again. Your moans were getting trapped in your throat as he planted his feet on the floor of the car and thrusted up into you, pulling you back down with ease. You bounced against him, hips rolling.
As he fucked you, you couldn't help but realise the gravity of your situation. The captain of the rugby union team you were physio for was fucking you in the back of his expensive car. Not only that, but he wanted to share you with three other players. And, not only fucking that, but you had already had your pussy eaten by one of them, masturbated in front of the second, and sucked off and thigh-rode the third.
What kind of blessing was this?
Now, you were being stuffed full by the fourth, who had an obsession with groping and grasping every inch of flesh he possibly could. As he speared you on his cock, he massaged his fingers against your hips, delving down into the top of your arsecheeks. Your breasts bounced in his face, and he had to stop himself from taking one into his mouth. Instead, he looked at you the entire time. You were the prettiest damn thing he'd ever seen.
"S'that feel good, sweetheart?" He asked, the car rocking gently around you, tinted windows fogging. "S'this what you needed? Needed to be stuffed full'a my cock?"
You nodded, swamped in delirium as you rode his thrusts, the head of his cock slamming against your g-spot, your cunt squeezing around him.
"So good..." You whined, thighs drawing tighter around him.
You were close, and so was he. Price knew he wasn't going to last very long as soon as he got inside you, and he was right. His balls were pulling tight, his cock twitching inside you as your cunt tightened around him. Sweat built on his brow, his breaths were falling in pants, and his thrusts were growing increasingly sloppy. He needed you to come.
He was in luck.
"Price, sir, m'so close–" You mewled, interrupting yourself with a moan. A thin layer of sweat covered your lower back, and the base of your tummy tingled with your growing orgasm. Your clit pulsed too, dragging against the hair at the base of Price's cock, forcing another desperate, whiny moan from your mouth.
He fucked you hard and fast, quickly snaking a hand down to toy with your puffy clit. The sudden, sporadic movement of his fingers paired with his deep thrusts were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time that evening.
You gushed around his cock, your orgasm drawing a long-winded moan from you. You moaned his name, your body trembling against him as he fucked you through it, the fat head of his cock unrelenting against that perfect spot inside you. Your arousal coated his cock, soaking through onto his lap as his pace increased.
"So fuckin' beautiful," Price whispered as your body went lax against him, barely managing to hold yourself upright. "Fuck. I can't fuckin' wait to share you with my boys. Can't wait for you to take all of us, how's that sound, sweetheart?"
You whimpered softly. That was about all you could do in your state. Two orgasms in and you were absolutely wrecked.
Price chuckled, thrusts mismatched and desperate as he grew closer to release. "Yeah, I bet you'd like that..."
His cock continued bullying up into the plug of your womb, stretching your cunt open and forcing more drips of arousal onto his lap. Price maintained his finger on your clit, rubbing lazily as his other hand held your hip tightly and pulled you back down onto him. He was panting like a dog, grunting from deep in his chest as your tight, wet cunt pulled him closer to orgasming. He can't recall coming this soon during sex ever.
He was so close. Before he came, he took his hand away from your clit and pressed down on your tummy again, moaning when he felt the light imprint of his cock fucking up into you. You moaned and, without much warning, came again.
"Christ–" Price gritted his teeth as your third orgasm spilt around him, your walls sucking his cock in further. Still with his hand against your tummy, and still stuffing you full of his cock, he whispered lowly to you, "See, pretty girl? I told you you'd feel it right here... my cock stuffin' this pretty tummy..."
He groaned, and with his hand flushed against the soft mound of your tummy, he came inside you. You could feel his release inside you, all thick and warm, painting your cervix. Price thrust a few more times before plugging his cock inside you and tucking you against his chest, the both of you panting.
You laid like that for a while. Both of Price's hands wound around you and held him to you, the two of you basking in a heady post-sex silence. After a few minutes, Price slowly peppered your face and head with kisses, rubbing his hands along your back.
One of his large hands cupped the back of your head where you rested it against his chest, listening to his heart beating.
"You okay, doc?" He asked, rubbing you, tending to you, appreciating you.
You nodded. "M'fine. Just sleepy..."
Price placed a tender kiss to the crown of your head, continuing to hold you close as the dark tint of his car windows and the condensation trapped the both of you in your own little world. Outside the car, evening had turned to night, and it had started to rain.
"Sir..." You said after a while.
He hummed against your, his face still pressed to the top of your head.
"Do... do you really want to share me?"
Price peeled his face away from you. Gently, he grasped the back of your head and angled your face towards him. He leaned down and placed a sweet kiss to your lips, before pulling back and gazing at you softly.
"Wouldn't mind it," he joked, but then said seriously; "If that's what you want, of course. You don't have to do anything you don't want too."
You nodded in acknowledgement. "I know... and, I do, you know."
"You do?"
"Yeah. I... I like all of you."
Price smiled. "Greedy girl, hm?"
"You love it." You bit back, chasing his mouth for another kiss. He let you swipe your tongue against his lips, and he smiled against your mouth when you attempted to deepen it.
You pulled back with a huff and he laughed. "Eager?"
"Shut up." You grumbled.
Price kissed you long and hard once more before settling back against the car seat. He took a deep breath, looking back down at you. You watched him expectantly. He cocked his head at you, brows raising, imploring a silent what?
"I can basically hear you thinking. What're you thinking about?"
"What am I thinking about?" Price placed both hands on your cheeks, holding your face so that he could get a really good look at you. He smiled. "I was thinking... I mean, the boys and I were thinking... are you free this weekend?"
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
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subskz · 2 months
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goddamn it channie bj anon... now I'm thinking about sucking the soul out of his body in a semi public area and channie is sooo fucking shy and so flustered like he's so worried you're gonna get caught but why does it secretly make his tummy (😼) churn in excitement and I can imagine just backing him up against a wall or anything really and unbuttoning his pants and he's so shy he doesn't know what to do w his hands. one is covering the lower part of his face and the other is hovering over you, your head, your shoulders, never actually touching, more of like a feeble attempt to get you to listen (no safewords have been uttered so far) and you just play with his dick and in the end he alters between both hands hovering over his own dick, unsure wether to add onto the pleasure or to halt it, then they are back up covering his entire face because he feels so shy and he feels perverted for watching you do it (and he'd bust even quicker) and omfg he'd try like "we... we shouldn’t" and you quirk (?) an eyebrow at him and he’s all meek like "what if someone comes in/catches us" and you make fun of him for liking the idea and he just whines pathetically and his ears are SO fucking red (cheers and claps wooo ear mention) and omfg it takes everything in him not to buck his hips too much, using what's left of his strength to freeze in place or press against the wall behind him. but feeling the fat of his ass like slowly push against that surface suddenly makes him remember being pegged by you and how your hips would slam into his ass and suddenly he's doubled over trying his best to not cum
too fucking bad you hit him w the sloptimus prime washing machine spin cycle 4500 and put his dick through a car wash with that mf goose neck and I need to stfu.
also imagine him afterwards just sliding down the wall bc his legs are all weak and wobbly and he can’t look you in the eyes rn bc he's super shy (super shy~🎤)
shy flustered red-eared channie getting the head of his life and trying not to alert everyone within a five mile radius w his loud shaky moans that ring out no matter how hard he tries to hold them in <3 it doesn’t get better than that
he’d be such an adorable sight giggling nervously, squirming against the wall and hovering his hands awkwardly over his bulge like he’s trying to shield himself, but the moment you nudge them out of the way he complies instantly 🥰 he desperately wants to keep quiet but even just seeing you unbutton his jeans has his breath hitching, and hearing all his lil noises echo in the alley, just makes his dick throb more, esp when he thinks abt someone else possibly hearing them. poor baby really would have no idea what to do w his hands…he doesn’t know whether to claw helplessly at the wall behind him, hide his blushing face, or slap his hand over his mouth to at least try to muffle the helpless whines and cries spilling out of him against his will. his lips would be so red and swollen from biting down so hard on them, and when he accidentally bucks into your mouth, he can barely whimper out an apology before you pin his hips to the wall and earn the cutest gasp from him
channie sliding down the wall after 😭 that’s so cute…he’d sink to the floor and bury his face in his knees, panting and wailing abt how embarrassing that was (channie language for “please do it again”)
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megantheebaddest · 16 days
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idk if you've done this but jack and the reader are at a night club with the whole gang and they have argued before so when she dances and looks up at their vip table she sees jack giving her an anoyed look so she walks up to hil and whispers how she would lile to fuck him in the bathroom so he drags her out of their and the fuukkck
You Proved Yourself
a/n: Sorry this took a while to get to. I put a little twist to it i hope you don’t mind. I kinda wanted to experiment with dark/mean Jack. Thank you for this request though 😘
Warnings: Degrading, name calling (slut, whore), consuming alcohol, p in v sex
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“Yeah, don’t fucking talk to me the rest of the night.” You spat in Jacks ear as you two were entering the club.
“Fine by me” He rolled his eyes at you.
You both followed close to the rest of the group. Usually Jack held your hand and guided you through the sea of people, but tonight he didn’t dare. Urban was behind you and noticed you kept getting bumped into by random people, almost losing your balance a few times. He grabbed your arm and helped direct you. Once you all made it to the vip section every one dispersed, Jack immediately plopping down on a chair he looked visibly annoyed. You didn’t care, you came to have a good night and that’s what you were gonna do.
“Come take shots with me?” You leaned over the table to ask Urban. His eyes lit up at the invitation.
“Hell yeah!” He screamed back. “Heyyy me too!” Clay whined.
“Well come on then!” You smiled back, bouncing up and down in an excited impatient way.
You three made your way to the bar quickly and put your orders in. You sat in a barstool between the two boys who were standing. Clay had his arm around the back of your chair, he leaned in closer to your ear.
“Everything alright with my brother? He seems off tonight.” He asked.
“He’s a fucking asshole and i’d rather not discuss him.”
you said. You gave an innocent sweet smile back. You looked over at where Jack was sitting but he had his face buried in his phone.
Clay and Urban looked at each other with their eyebrows up. “Well okay then.” Clay chuckled.
The bartender brought two shots for each of you. You all did a cheers and slung them back. Then the second ones.
“Wooo!” Urban yelled, making a face from the alcohol.
After about 5 more shots and 2 mixed drinks later, you found yourself on the dance floor. You danced with anyone who would dance with you. You were completely fucked up and sweaty. You knew you looked a mess. No one cared they just enjoyed dancing with a pretty girl like you. You started grinding with a tall attractive man. He had his hands on your hips and you were grinding so hard into him you felt his hard dick. You looked over at Jack who already had his eyes burning into you. As you were looking up at him the tall man leaned down and whispered.
“You’re so fucking beautiful”
You never took your eyes off of Jack. You just smiled at him. His leg started bouncing, you could tell he was fuming. You turned around and wrapped your arms around the tall man’s neck and leaned in.
“Thank you so much but i have a boyfriend”
And with that you started backing up from him. He had a confused look on his face like ‘then why were you grinding on me’ type of look. You spun around and your eyes immediately fell on Jacks. The closer you got to him the more pissed you could tell he was. His face was red, eyes dark, knuckles white from clenching his fists. You stumbled the rest of the way until you reached him. You bent down placing your hands on his thighs to stabilize yourself. You stared into his eyes, letting a giggle escape your mouth.
“ain’t shit fucking funny.” He spoke.
“Yeah. Whatever. You done being a little baby?-“
“Get away from me you fucking slut” he yelled at you.
You were thankful everyone was doing their own thing and no one was in the vip section.
“What? Do you find enjoyment in shaking your ass on other dudes??? Right in fucking front of me? You’re crazy!” He yelled.
“Stop it, you’re being ridiculous.. I was only having-“
“Me ridiculous!!?? I’m not the one dancing like a whore with other people”
“Oh so now i’m a whore?” You screamed back.
“Um clearly.” he gestured back to the dance floor.
“You don’t mean that” you swayed back and forth.
“I whole heartedly do” He said staring back at you.
“yeah? show me i am” you hiccuped.
“Huh?” he said with a confused look.
“Did i fucking stutter? Show. Me. I. Am.” you said slowly.
“Show you? That you’re a whore? pfft” He shook his head. “I don’t see why i gotta show you, you just proved yourself.
“Last time. You gonna show me or what.”
He looked away from you for a moment then looked back. He stood up so fast he shouldered past you.
“Where are you going?” You whined and followed him.
He kept going without looking back at you. “Jackman.. Answer me” The room was spinning as you tried to keep up with him. It felt as if he was walking a million miles per hour. You were trying to keep up with him now once you made it to the hallway with the bathrooms. He stopped and spun around and you bumped right into his chest.
“Don’t fucking touch me” he spat. He held open the men’s private bathroom door. You looked in and then back at him.
“Are you dumb?” he asked and shoved you in. He didn’t push hard but due to you being severely intoxicated you stumbled into the bathroom counter. He slammed and locked the door.
You went to turn towards him and he shoved your head back to face forward. He kicked your feet apart and bent you over the counter. He yanked your dress up and pulled your panties down, they dropped to the floor. He gathered spit and spit on your hole before ramming his hard cock into you with out warning. You screamed out in pain and pleasure.
“Shut the fuck up” He grunted. You started moving beneath him. “Do not fucking move!” He slapped your ass so hard. You tried your hardest to hold in your moan. You tried to look at him through the mirror. That only got your face shoved down against the cold countertop. His thrusts sped up letting you know he was close. After a few more minutes you felt his hot load on your ass.
“You fucking whore” Jack mumbled under his breath. He pulled his pants up and exited the bathroom leaving you fucked out on the counter covered in cum, like the whore he showed you to be.
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pixeechix21 · 3 months
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Let it Snow❄️☃️
Keegan x fem!reader
Quick snapshot, cute moment becomes hot n heavy as he hold you close to him not letting you go
Also we just need more Keegan 😌💕
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Tw: oral, PRAISE slight DEgradation, spontaneous, car sex/public
~❄️❄️❄️~
It’s snowing! It’s snowing! You rush out side in barely enough to cover you, your too excited to worry about the cold. Running out you smile widely and laugh giving out loud “wooo!s” he’s out there with you crouching over.
You smack his ass laughing evilly at him exclaiming “hey what the hell!” He turns around swiftly throwing the snowball right at you. You can’t stop laughing and throwing the snowballs.
Exhausted and somehow sweating you stand in the middle of the snow covered road tongue stuck out trying to catch the snow flakes. Coming up to you he lightly takes hold of your jaw and sticks his tongue out licking yours. “Eww!” You shove him off, but he just takes you and holds you closer.
“Oooh now you think I’m disgusting?” Keegan’s voice is playful teasing as he wraps you up in his jacket. Looking up definitely, “oh yes very,” you smile broadly.
“Would it be disgusting if I just,” he leans in tongue stuck out. You try to lean back hands pushing on his chest,
“I might just liiii-“
“Ewww! Stop it!” You squeal happily. Keegan licks your face then as you squirm. Then as he did so you take his face with your cold hands and kiss him. Kissing him so deeply that you steal his warmth. His tongue in your mouth tasting the hot chocolate. Inside his coat it’s warm, hot growing intense. Bodies flushed together, holding each other so that you don’t slip on the ice. He sways you both causing you to lose footing, landing right into the freshly fallen snow.
He lifts you up onto him, taking your mouth. Clouds of hot breaths puff around you. As frozen hands go under layers messaging and touching the heated skin of each other.
Breaking apart he looks at your lips, heavy lidded, “disgusting huh?” teasing he runs his thumb over your bottom lip.
“Mmhm very,” your lips brush against his as you smile eyes gleaming as you gaze into his.
“Show me just how disgusting you can be?” Keegan says darkly. His hands cupped your ass.
“Yeah?” You smirk eyes looking beautifully at him, he almost forgets how to breathe. You start to kiss your way to his neck. As your hands sneak between his bottom layers, finding his cock squeezing it and you run your finger over its tip.
“I’m cold,” he hisses holding you tighter.
“Then let me warm you up,” your stomach swirls with excitement as he lifts you up.
“Where are you taking me!” You squirm again s he hauls you to the back of the car. Laying you inside he, he shuts the door. “Lift your shirt I want to see you,” lifting the shirt he takes one of you hard nipples in his mouth twirling and twisting. Shifting between you giggle as he comes to sit up, with your bottom half off. He’s hard under you, and some truly disgusting thoughts come over you. The car steams as his cock fills you.
“Ride me! Just like that you’re doing so fucking good,” Keegan’s encouraging you, letting you ride him vigorously chasing your high.
“Keegan you feel so big-“ you gasp and you both rock the whole car. Keegan holds you so close crushing your soft body to his.
“Such a good disgusting whore, fucking me like this,” he nips at your bare skin. Panting as you lean back taking him to the hilt.
Outside the moaning is may heard over the howling of the wind. If I’m wrapped in your arms, feeling you deep inside me then I say let it snow let it snow.
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pjmparadise · 1 year
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3:23 am (don’t go, stay) Pt 1 || JJK
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Pairing: jungkook x f! original character
Word count: 12.1k
Genre(s): fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, slight angst if you squint; neighbor au, pre-debut Jungkook au, pre-debut au, comic book artist Jungkook au, apartment au, neighbor au
Warnings: cursing, mentions of jungkook’s penis (yeah yeah... he sleeps naked ofc), brief injury (jk hurts himself bc he’s a dork); descriptions of anxiety and fear (jungkook is scared for a sec, oops); nudity mentions, jungkook is a little horny (what can I say....), jungkook gets a hard on lol; he’s also down bad pathetic crushing and is super clumsy, and brief mentions of home robberies (lol this feels random, but it isn’t I swear), very heavily dialogue based
Audience: 18+ (minors, DNI!)
Summary: Jungkook has had a couple of awkward run-ins with his pretty upstairs neighbor, who he may or may not be secretly pining over, and one night, she pays him an unexpected visit.
“My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”
“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”
He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
A/N: WOOO! my first jungkook fic!! We recently got his birth time, and thus this title was born lol! I’ve been working on this baby for a few months now, and it’s finally finished!! After a long time of contemplating, i decided to make our female character an original character, and i know it’s kind of a rare thing in the community, but i felt it worked best with my story. It’s been a bumpy ride with this one since it’s my first lengthy fic (over 12k words... sheesh!) that will be a part of a short series. I’m very excited and a little nervous, but if you’re here, I’m glad to have you here. Thank you for giving my work a shot <3 (ps. italics indicate jungkook’s inner thoughts as well as flashbacks)
a big thank you to my lovely beta’s: @cherrysoulth @the-boy-meets-evil​ and @jeonjcngkook​ you’ve all helped me shape my fic and have been so helpful, and I am so so grateful. truly. seriously. thank you for brainstorming with me, for reading my work, and for being so sweet and so supportive.
a special thank you to @itaeewon​ for the lovely banner! I love it so so much &lt;3
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Jungkook is awake to hear the sound of a muffled thud nearby.
His bedroom is dark and silent save for the alarm clock resting on a bedside table flashing bright red numbers at him. ‘It’s late, it’s late, you should be asleep,’ the time says. Jungkook shuts his eyes, groaning and rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, fuck, I know,” he mutters. He’s fully naked, lying on his back, eyes wide open and boring into the ceiling, blanket kicked off to the side, and arms folded behind his neck–still remembering a phone conversation with Namjoon earlier in the day.
“So she walked toward the elevator as it closed, and you didn’t open it for her?” Namjoon scoffs over the phone, shaking his head and clicking his tongue to show he’s disappointed. He knows Jungkook froze, Jungkook already told him he wanted to reach out and push the button for her, but Namjoon asked again anyway—he likes to give him a hard time. “Every time you see this girl, things just kind of go wrong. I’ve noticed.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “I’ve noticed too. Is it a sign? Should I give up?” In his apartment, he sat curled up on his couch, his chin on his kneecaps. He’s fallen silent in thought.
“No, nothing like that. Maybe she didn’t get to see it was you, so she thinks it was someone else, or maybe she doesn't even think about it anymore. You know, like things that happen in your day you forget about later unless something reminds you of it?”
“Yes!” Jungkook relaxed, falling back against the couch with a hand over his forehead. “That probably is what’s going on. She went on with her day; other things have to happen, right?”
Namjoon was quiet. In his apartment, he was opening mail and reading over a proposal he was meant to sign soon. A project he hasn’t mentioned to anyone else, Namjoon folds the letter and sets it aside. “Sorry, yes. Yes, don’t worry too much. It will ruin your day. I mean that. Sorry for the pause. I just opened some mail.”
“Ah, okay. Well, you’re right.” Jungkook rose from his seat then. “Namjoon-hyung?”
Namjoon nodded even though he couldn’t be seen. “Yeah?”
“Thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough, but you’re always helping and guiding me when I don’t even realize I need it.”
“Thank you, Jungkook. Finish your comic tonight, and submit it tomorrow. I know you’ll place in the contest and do well. You haven’t scrapped it have you?”
Jungkook sighed. Rubbing his eyelids, walking distractedly around his living room, he spoke with his eyes closed. “I have it. I finished it; I just don’t feel too good about posting it, even with the pseudonym; it feels like too much. Too much with what we already have going on as a group even. We’re trying to do something together, and the comic stuff is just… I don’t know. I don’t want it to distract me.”
Namjoon was on his back patio, leaning over the railing and looking out at the park across from him. “Jungkook, I’m going to tell you something and think about it however you want to. I respect your life, but I think—and these are just my opinions. I think you doubt yourself too often and need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.” Namjoon folds his arms over the railing, leaning his body against it. “No rush, bro. At all. The music we’re trying to pursue, it’s not going anywhere, you know?”
Jungkook nodded from his living room.
“Like, okay, look.” Namjoon fixed his gaze on a flock of birds rising from the trees. “The guys, we all have our passions. Yoongi with his piano, Jimin is passionate about his dancing, Taehyung with his instruments, Jin and his gaming, and Hoseok he’s been designing his own clothes lately; with me, you know I like poetry and painting, but we all share music. That is for the team, for a part of us, but we each have so many parts. You like art and storytelling; your comics are so cool, bro. You love watching Taehyung practice the trumpet, and Jimin dance after practice. We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.”
Jungkook almost cried. He stopped pacing. His heart was racing; it was all he had heard momentarily. If Namjoon were there in front of him, he’d hug him. Maybe he’d even cry. “Ah, Namjoon-hyung…” he swallowed hard at the saliva in his throat, blushing. ‘Namjoon always knows what to say,’ he thought. “I will think about it. I will set an alarm, just in case. I’ll decide in the morning, you know it’s my style to do that the day of. If I think about it now, it will be like this all day, and I’ll stress too much.”
“Good, then. Just think about it.” Namjoon smiled.
Jungkook lies motionless with his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, mouthing along to Namjoon’s words. “We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.” He sighs. How could he not worry about the guys? He’s twenty-five. Most idols start out much younger, and the mandatory enlistment is already so near for his hyungs. It’s bad timing, is all. My comic book can wait.
He wants to sleep, so he turns over, laying flat on his stomach, facing his wall. Resting his full body weight on his flaccid penis is slightly uncomfortable, but he ignores it. It’s the type of restless night that he has no chance up against, and even with his eyes closed, he feels painfully awake. Jungkook is thinking of her again—her pretty smile, the pink sundress she wore in the elevator, her ability to look him in the eyes and not shy away—and it’s almost like she's here, in the same room with him. He pictures the sundress again, the way it clung to her frame, highlighting every curve. Man, I want her. He shifts his hips around, surprising himself with a massive erection.
The thud strikes again suddenly, and he sits up, alarmed. Shit, is that here? Like outside my apartment? Jungkook squints in the darkness, bringing a hand to the nightstand to fetch his glasses. Any sign of arousal is now extinguished.
“Bam?” He calls out in a sluggish voice.  The clock beside him flashes bright red numbers at him. 3:23. “Ah, shit,” Jungkook mumbles, turning the clock away. A sound he can’t distinguish comes from his left, directly outside his bedroom. “It’s like home alone,” he says to no one.
Jungkook rests his head against the wall, the texture cold against his feverish face. He can hear the sound of a muffled conversation. “Shit, that’s right here, right outside,” he mumbles, stepping back. He reaches over mechanically to switch on the lamp beside him.
Now, Jungkook is painfully aware of his nakedness and frenetically searches for bottoms to change into. He’s thinking about how his legs don’t feel like his own as he walks to the chair by the door, where he sees basketball shorts. It’s like sleepwalking. Even though he’s awake, Jungkook feels as though he might’ve actually fallen asleep, and this is some strange anxiety dream he’s creating to cope with his qualms about submitting his comic. Still, he goes along with it, quietly changing into the shorts, walking out into his living room, and ducking his head when he passes the glass patio door.
Cursing under his breath, annoyed at himself for forgetting to throw on a shirt, Jungkook shakes his head at himself. I don't want to fight an intruder shirtless and commando in basketball shorts, damn... A part of him feels a rush of adrenaline as he crouches behind a potted plant and, chewing on his lower lip, fantasizes about a robbery gone wrong, one where he puts his boxing skills to the test—the other part of him wants this to be a dream, a sign from the universe that he ought to submit his comic. I’ll fucking do it if I survive this.
Jungkook stays like that for a while until he hears a sound again. Rising from his crouched position, he walks toward the back patio window, pulling back the curtain to peer out. He feels a tightness in his chest, and his hands tremble slightly. A shameful part of him is relieved that he’s alone and no one is around to see how shaken up he is.
He whistles quietly, calling to Bam, forgetting his brother is watching over him tonight. Craning his neck, he glances around his balcony patio and sees nothing. “Bam, come here,” his whispering is frantic. He whistles again, patting his leg lightly. Nothing. You’re okay. It’s nothing. It’s probably the cats again tipping over the plants. Just fix it tomorrow. Now, go back to bed. You need it. Jungkook is about to whistle once more when he remembers. His eyebrows knit together; shaking his head, he places his fingertips on his eyelids, murmuring a lamented, “Ah.”
Thinking better of it, he draws the curtain back again and sighs with relief before taking note of a figure crouched behind a chair with a hand shooting up to rub their head. Panic washes over him. His inner monologue consists of a string of every curse word he can think of as he ducks out of view. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s a person. If he’d been scared earlier, now he’s downright petrified.
Desperate, he begins to look around the room for a weapon. Anything. Jungkook stands still, breathing in heavy gulps of air, cradling his head as he adjusts his vision to the darkness of the living room. ‘Can’t even turn a fucking light on,’ he thinks as he drops to the ground and crawls around his living room. His home’s silence unsettles him. Jungkook can hear the nothingness aside from his ragged breathing, so he pinches the skin on his arm and hisses at the sharp pain. Okay, real life it is. His bare knees skid against the hard flooring, and his clammy palms slip beneath him; his heart is thudding hard and fast, the blood pooling between his ears. He’s scowling, chewing his lower lip, his chest heaving as he fumbles a hand under the couch; he fingers a cold object and remembers what it is. Aha! He comes up with a golf club Taehyung left behind a few nights ago. I love you, Taehyung!
Jungkook grips the golf club until his knuckles take on a pale color. Having a weapon gives him a newfound sense of security, and like before, he’s fantasizing about kicking someone’s ass. “You come to my house at three in the morning? My house?” he says as he walks through his living room, rolling his shoulders.
He draws the curtain again, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness; he sees the figure facing away from him and hunching over, a phone glowing against their face. He can call the police, and he almost wants to, but to avoid the drama of a police visit at three in the morning, he decides against it. Imagine the guys find out I called the police? He shudders at the thought. The stranger looks small anyway.
Jungkook reaches for the doorknob and pulls back the door. It’s a lot chillier than he’d anticipated. He folds his arms over his bare chest instantly, the skin covered in goosebumps—his teeth chatter of their own accord.
“Don't move!” He raises the golf club in a mid-swing position, ready to strike. The person shifts around, holding up the hand with the phone. “I said, ‘Don’t move’!” He sounds ridiculous, but he doesn't care. In the shadows, he watches the phone’s glow shut off. “I called the police, so don’t try anything. They’re on the way.” His voice doesn't even sound like his own. He takes a few steps toward the stranger, his grip tightening around the golf club. His heart feels heavy in his chest.
It’s hard to make out the features of this person, but they rise, walk toward the dim light spilling from the neighbor’s window, and he can see them now. The stranger looks straight at him, and he’s met with wide eyes staring at him. She’s standing, squinting at him with a hand on her hip, and she smiles wide. Damn! If this were an animation, she’d have a halo effect.
Jungkook has seen her a total of seven times—he can’t help it; he likes to keep track of these things. It’s his upstairs neighbor, their interactions before tonight being brief and in passing (the most recent engraved in his mind and tormenting him), and he’s thought of her tirelessly and has fantasized about a time they should meet, and things go well for a change.
Jungkook doesn't know her name, but he could recognize those beautiful dark eyes anywhere. He’s looking into them now, his body anchored, mouth turning into sawdust.
She’s talking to him; he’s just not listening. Not really. He can't grasp the reality that it’s actually her, and she’s standing on his patio, and she looks so beautiful. Should he be thinking that?
Her long black hair is in a loose ponytail, her eyebrows arch as her deep dark eyes blink at him, and her lips move. “Please tell me you didn't really call the cops,” she says, bursting through his trance.
Damn, I sounded so stupid! Jungkook blushes. He hopes she can’t tell from where she stands.
“I was trying to call my friend; I swear I was not snooping or breaking in.” She smiles, but her voice sounds worried. Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to read him. “Honest,” she says in a small voice as she leans on the railing and raises her hand with the cell phone for emphasis.
She’s wearing a dark gray sweatshirt twice her size and sandals with white socks, and he can’t tell if she’s wearing shorts or if the sweatshirt is all. He can feel his face reddening just from the possibility of her nakedness underneath the sweatshirt, so he decides not to focus on that.
Jungkook rubs the nape of his neck, abashed. The cold air surrounds him, and he folds his arms across his chest, remembering his exposed chest. His empty threat echoes and bounces around in his head, and he looks away from her. “I didn't call the cops, sorry. I didn't know what else to say. It’s what they say in movies.”
“You would be right anyway; this is your patio.” She laughs a little at that, and his heart rate picks up. She pushes herself away from the railing, smiling, and walks toward him with an outstretched hand. Her nail polish is glittery, and he doesn't notice, but this small detail makes him smile. “I’m Rei. I live upstairs. Maybe you’ve seen me before.” There’s a coy look on her face as she says this, and it makes him nervous.
So her name is Rei!!! Fireworks set off, exploding behind Jungkook’s wide eyes.
“Huh, maybe,” Jungkook lies. He shakes her hand slowly, his hand enveloping hers entirely, the contact sending a warm shock through his body.
“Maybe a few days ago,” she says, with a finger to her chin, like she’s thinking over something. “Oh, yes, have I seen you on the elevator?”
“The elevator?” He feigns innocence as he tongues his lip ring anxiously. “That’s strange. Every day is a blur for me.”
“For me, too,” she replies. She’s almost smirking, watching Jungkook lie. He can tell she’s caught him. “You just look sooo familiar.”
“That’s a first.” Still, he denies it.
“Maybe you just look like someone I’ve seen,” she says, looking into his eyes as if searching for something she placed there. “You have one of those faces, you know?”
Jungkook raises his eyebrows, lips parted to speak, but nothing comes out. 
Is she flirting with me or giving me a hard time? DAMN!
“I have an ordinary face?” Jungkook wonders after a moment.
“Either that or my memory is failing me,” she says, sighing and shaking her head. “Which do you think it is?”
“I don't have an ordinary face,” Jungkook says in a small voice, “I have piercings on my face.”
“That’s true…” she’s watching the ground and suddenly looks into his eyes again. She holds his stare unblinking, and then her lips pull back into a big smile showing off cute bunny teeth. Just like me. “I’ve always had a good memory; I was just kidding.”
“Oh,” Jungkook says, blushing.
He can smell her perfume when a cold breeze blows past him, carrying her real-life presence and enveloping him in it. It’s sweet and mixed with a scent of detergent he recognizes, and he’s watching how strands of her hair float beside her face. She’s so cute. Damnnnn.
“You should open the door for the ladies,” Rei says, raising an eyebrow, and stepping closer, she says, “Just harmless advice. Stranger .”
“I will consider that,” he replies, avoiding her fixed stare, attempting to ignore how she’s riled him up with a loud clearing of his throat. But his chest is on fire, his heart thudding hard against his rib cage at her closeness. “My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”
“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”
He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”
She laughs, and he internally swoons. If he were a cartoon, his heart would burst out of his chest in comical dramatic thuds, his pupils heart-shaped.
“I’m kidding. I know I’m giving you a hard time when I’m on your patio at three in the morning, but I can explain why I’m here,” Rei mimics Jungkook’s movements by crossing her arms across her chest, her lower lip trembling, “but can I come in? It’s cold out, and I'm in the worst attire for this weather.” She gestures vaguely at her exposed legs, and Jungkook’s stare lingers before she notices—so he responds with a nod as he gestures for her to follow him inside. “Though you might have me beat. You came out here without a shirt, damn.”
Leading the way, he blushes at her comment and gives his head a light shake. She’s so talkative! Yoongi was right about her.
With a dreamy air about him, he remembers Namjoon’s words. Except now, all he remembers is: “You need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.”
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Inside, Jungkook excuses himself to his room to change into a shirt. He reaches for his glasses beside his bed and goes to the closet. “Shirt, shirt, shirt,” he mutters as his hands sift through empty hangers. When was the last time he did laundry? He groans. “Shirt?” he reaches to pick up a heap of white clothing in the deep corner of the closet. He brings the shirt to his nose, sniffs, and walks back into the room, raising an eyebrow and nodding with approval. His hands are shaky as he maneuvers his head through a t-shirt sleeve in a panicked rush. He yanks the shirt off again, the t-shirt now inside out and knotted up in his grip; he groans as his fingers work the fabric. What if she’s gone when I go back out there? Agh, what if I’m dreaming all of this up, and lack of sleep is finally getting to me?
Rei’s voice comes through the walls, and though this is their first official meeting, he knows she’s smiling as she calls out to him. “You okay in there?”
Smoothing out the wrinkles on the shirt, he glances at his reflection behind the bedroom door before stepping out, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. “I’m okay; all is OK. Sorry.” He offers her a thumbs up and a big goofy grin that makes her laugh.
“Did you go on a hike without me?” She asks from her seat on his couch. She rests her face on her palm, looking up at him as he walks past toward the kitchen.
“Hike? I just put the shirt on; it was fighting me, though.”
“No, I meant,” she shakes her head, laughing. “I meant that as a while for changing into a shirt. Bad joke, sorry.”
“Ah,” Jungkook says.
“You’re wearing glasses,” she comments, her eyes looking over his face.
“I am,” he says, glancing her way.
It looks like she wants to say something else but doesn't.
He raises his eyebrows, nodding and tonguing the inside of his cheek. It doesn't happen often, but he doesn't know what to say. He walks into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. “Do you drink tea?” He wonders as he fills a kettle with water and sets it to boil.
Rei nods, stretching her legs before her and craning her neck back to look up at the ceiling. “Chamomile or whatever you have, I’m not picky.” She points a finger above her head, motioning for him to look. “Those are stars. Is this wallpaper? It looks pretty. Is it glow-in-the-dark?”
Jungkook is in the kitchen, his eyes watching how her finger moves in a swift motion of the length of the ceiling. He thinks about how her hand felt in his grip and wishes he’d been more present. “It’s… I don’t know, actually. It’s not a wallpaper; it’s carved into the ceiling, and yes, it glows but not like the bright green; it’s softer.” He looks at her, and she scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. “Want to see?”
She twists her body to look at him, her smile so big he can’t help but return the affection. “Yes. Show me.”
“Grab the remote beside you; turn off the lights with it.”
She clicks the lights off, and the gasp she lets out makes his heart flutter in his chest. Aside from the hard thudding in his chest, the only sounds nearby are the buzzing of the refrigerator, the ice machine rolling out handfuls of freshly carved-out cubes, and the bubbling water in the kettle. Jungkook doesn't dare disturb the quiet; he’s leaning against the kitchen table, wanting her to stay. He looks for her in the dark, his eyes finding her silhouette on the couch, his lips pulling back into a smile. She’s better than in his daydreams; she smells sweet and of detergent, and she feels like a real person just like him, so near but out of his reach. And here, in the same room as him, so close to him, Jungkook realizes she could’ve left by now but hasn’t.
“I’d love it if I had this on my ceiling,” Rei pouts, “want to trade?” She clicks the lights back on, and Jungkook blinks, slowly adjusting to the brightness.
He pretends to mull it over, humming and tonguing his cheek. He puts on his best-thinking face. “No way, but you can come over and look at the stars when it's overcast or raining outside.” He walks toward the stove, where the water boils in the kettle. With his back turned to her, he’s hiding his blushing face as he sets two cups out before him.
“I think that sounds nice,” she replies, surprising him. “So what, I walk outside sometime, see a gray sky, and come downstairs to see you? ‘Hey, neighbor, can I see the stars?’ and you say, ‘Come in, I’ve just made cocoa, would you like some?’ and I say, ‘Thank you, are you sure?’ and then you say, ‘Sure’ except I never leave because I like the stars so much and you don’t know how to tell me I should go home.”
“Oh, that’s a good conversation. Is that what you’d like me to make? I like hot cocoa,” Jungkook says, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “You think I'd want you to leave?”
“Well, if I were here all the time….” she looks at him through her lashes, and he catches her eyes and raises an eyebrow at her, a playful smirk on his lips. And she shakes her head, laughing. “Do you mean it, though?”
“About you coming to see the stars whenever you’d like?” Jungkook asks, leaning against the kitchen island. She nods at him in two slow motions of her head. “Yes, I mean it.”
“The skies are unusually gray these days, aren’t they?”
“I’ve noticed that too,” he says, opening the fridge. He grabs a box of cherries and shuts the door with his elbow. “But no rain.”
“Exactly, I told my friend Kimi; she lives with me upstairs and is almost a sister to me, except we have different parents. Well, I told her, ‘Haven't you noticed how it looks like it’s going to rain every day, but it never does?’ and she says, ‘Rei, it rains. It just happens to be when you’re asleep,’ and can you believe it? I woke up yesterday, and it was early, not like tonight, but early for me, and I looked outside my window, and there was dew sticking to the glass, and it was all sweaty when I touched the windowpane, and I realized she was right, it rained during the night, and I just missed it. Isn't that something so lame?”
“Huh,” Jungkook says, chewing on a cherry and offering the box to her. She shakes her head no and mouths a ‘Thank you’ to him. “So we’re off asleep and just missing the rain, so it always works out that we’re missing out on something during the day. It’s always like that. Kimi sees the rain, and you’re off sleeping, but you probably get to see other things I miss when I’m taking a nap and on and on.”
“That’s true. But I thought about catching it tonight. When I went to bed hours ago, I kept thinking about the rain and wondering if I stayed up, I might see it, and it wouldn’t just feel like I kept missing it and living the same gray day.”
“It’s like Santa Claus,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose as he tongues a cherry stem in his mouth, “waiting up all night for him to show up just for you to see your dad dressed up as Santa and realize he’s been putting the presents down there for years.”
Rei laughs at this and covers her face with her hands like she’s protecting her laugh from anything sharp. “Your dad did that? For real?”
Jungkook scrunches his eyebrows and pinches his nose bridge, and with a tone of feigned affliction, he says, “Yeah, he did. I knew the truth before a lot of my classmates.”
“How old were you? When he ruined Santa Claus. Do you remember a thing like that, like how old you were?” She rests her chin on her palm like she’s weighing her head. He thinks she looks cute like that but doesn’t say anything.
“I don't know exactly, but I was in the third year of school,” Jungkook says, suddenly thinking back on his infancy. He chews his lower lip when the answer suddenly comes to him, and he remembers the conversation he had with the guys a while back. They’d all taunted Seokjin when they found out Seokjin didn't know the truth about Santa until he was thirteen. “I was seven. I can't believe I remembered that. I was seven….” His mouth hangs open, and he remembers what he wore when he first saw his dad hunched over behind the tree with a gift in hand— a white flannel pajama set and his mother’s slippers. Where has this memory been hiding?  “Damn.”
“I was six,” she says, smiling. “My childhood was ruined a year before yours. Or wait, are we the same age? I just assumed we were.” She laughs again, bringing a hand up to her face to hide her smile.
“I assumed the same thing,” Jungkook admits, feeling his cheeks redden. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Oh wow,” she says, almost to herself. “Me too.”
He doesn't know what else to do but clear his throat and nod.  He never imagined getting this far (whatever that means). He’ll struggle to explain this later when Namjoon asks—Jungkook knows he’ll ask.
The kettle begins to whistle, and he’s reaching for the two coffee mugs as she says something behind him he doesn't catch. And he turns his head over his shoulder and nods at her. “What happened? Sorry, I didn't catch that.”
“I said, ‘You don't have to do that for me.’” She turns her head away as she says this, her long hair cascading along her profile, hiding her.
“I have a visitor,” he says, turning over to look at her with a grin. “I have good manners.”
“Oh, sure, manners,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him like a friend he’s known for years. “Is that my tea? It smells amazing.”
“It is, but it’s hot, so let’s leave it here.” Jungkook offers her a tight-lipped smile, shyly making his way toward her. “Mind if I sit next to you?”
“No, not at all; come, sit.” She pats the spot beside her and scoots over to make room for him. “Thank you for the tea and for letting me in. I know it’s late.”
Jungkook glances at the clock on the kitchen stove. 3:55. “It’s not that late. I was awake anyway, so I didn’t mind.” He’s toying with his lip ring again. “Why were you out there anyway?”
It’s been some time since Jungkook’s been this close to a girl. He feels his heart thudding away in his chest, her presence stirring up a desire that’s been dormant. Loose strands of hair frame her face, and his eyes follow her movements as she brushes the strands away. She looks embarrassed, her cheeks reddening. Still, he finds her so cute. “Truth?”
“Yes.” He scrunches his nose when he smiles at her.
“I locked myself out of my apartment. Before bed, I stepped out into my patio for a smoke and to read more of my book. I was also trying to test my rain suspicions to see if I could catch it while it happened. So, I’m out there romanticizing my life, pretending I’m in a movie; you know how we act when we’re alone and suddenly want to be poetic?” She looks at Jungkook, and he nods lightly. “That was me, except I got cold right away and said, ‘Oh fuck this, I’m going to bed,’ and that’s when I realized I’d locked the back door, and I was so mad I almost cried.” She places her fingertips against her forehead, continuing her recounting. “So, of course, I get the idea of calling a locksmith, but they’re closed; I don’t know what people should do if they need help during the night.”
“Most people sleep, I think.”
She clicks her tongue. “Right, some people do, but you and I are not those people, right?” She draws an imaginary line with her forefinger from her chest toward him. He nods and feigns oblivious as his leg brushes against her bare thigh as she shifts in her seat. “So, not only is every locksmith not available, but my service is horrible, so I am standing on my tiptoes trying to get a bar, and my phone slips. My heart almost burst.” She brings a hand to her chest for visual effect, and his eyes watch her chest as it rises and falls with each breath. He’s smiling at her—a wide smile that hurts his cheeks. “If it weren’t for your patio, my phone would be shattered to hell on the ground. I look over my balcony, and for the first time, I notice how close our balconies are.” Rei presses her hands over her thighs, leaning forward in her seat and fixing her eyes on the glass patio door across from her. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I don’t go out there much. Anyway, I’m rambling. I noticed I could jump directly into your patio because there’s a mattress out there, and well….” She makes a motion with her hands that says: ‘ Ya know?’
“You weren’t scared of jumping? The balconies are close, but we’re still six stories up.” Jungkook rests his hands on his knees, fully invested in this story; his eyes never leave her. She forms a tight line with her lips and gives him a serious look that makes him laugh. “Ok, so you were scared.”
“I was scared! But there’s a mattress out there, you know,” she says in a small voice. She’s blushing and scratching at the side of her nose to avoid his eyes.
Jungkook notices this and clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat.  “So it was not an accident, then?” He raises an eyebrow at her, sucking his teeth in feigned disapproval.
The truth is, he’s not mad about it; he wants her here. He almost feels like he is in a dream.
“Not entirely. Don’t ask me how I thought about returning to my place after retrieving my phone because I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Oh, there’s a mattress out there. You could’ve just slept there; no big deal,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Rei brings a hand to her face to hide behind, making a groaning sound. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to laugh at you. I just don't know what to think— this has never happened before.”
“And it won’t happen again; let’s hope.” She laughs, and it’s different from before; it sounds deeper like she reached into herself and decided to really show him. And Jungkook likes the sound of her laugh but does not comment. She moves a few strands of hair from her face and rests her cheek on her hand, leaning on the couch's armrest. It’s slowly dawning on Jungkook how badly he wants her. What am I supposed to do with her this close to me? Damn. “So, what’s your name? You didn’t say when I told you mine.”
He rises from the couch, remembering their tea.
“Jeon Jungkook,” he says as he pours the tea, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself. Huh.”
Rei’s looking at him with her chin in her hand and a serious look on her face as he’s walking toward her with an outstretched hand in offering. “It’s chamomile,” Jungkook announces.
“Jeon Jungkook,” She repeats with a light smile. “I like it. I don’t know any other Jungkooks.”
“Yeah? I’ve had this name for a long time. I like it too.”
She takes the cup and brings it to her face, inhaling the scent and shivering, and says, “Thank you again. This tea smells sweet. It reminds me of this tea my grandmother used to make my sister and me when we were kids. She would put a little bit of honey, the real kind, and peppermint leaves; it was….” She sighs longingly. “I miss that tea; this smells like home.”
Sitting beside her, he takes a sip of tea, his gaze on her unmoving. Her lips part as she blows gently, the steam rising from the cup in lazy strokes. Jungkook’s heartbeat quickens when she matches his stare with her deep dark eyes that seem to look for something in his.
“This tea has honey, but I doubt it’s the real kind you mentioned, but I still think it’s good.” He clears his throat, looking away as he adjusts his glasses on his nose bridge.
“I like your glasses. I wanted to say that earlier,” Rei comments, taking a sip of her tea, “I don't know why I didn't say anything.” She moves around in her seat, tucking her legs beneath her, then asks, “Can I wear them? Are they prescription?”
“They’re just reading glasses. You can wear them. I put them on sometimes just because they suit me,” he pulls his glasses off, wipes the lenses on his shirt, and hands them over.
“Ah, so you like how they look on you,” she says, her eyes gleaming as she takes the glasses from him and sets them on her face. “How do they look?”
If he were a cartoon character from one of his comics, he’d have melted into a puddle, exploded like dynamite, turned into stardust, and returned to his original self. Except, she’s a real person just like he is, flesh and blood and so beautiful, and he’s off in space being reborn.
“Look at me,” he motions for her to turn his way. She looks straight at him, wearing his glasses and blushing at his attention. She begins to unfold in front of him, her playful demeanor softening. “You look pretty. If they weren't my prescription, I would give them to you.”
“Here, they’re hurting my eyes,” she says, laughing. She removes the glasses and starts rubbing her eyes with closed fists. “You’re sweet, though. I couldn't take a guy’s glasses. How will he go on drinking his tea and letting me in to watch the stars?”
Jungkook feels a warmth spread in his chest. God, how is she real? He runs his fingers through his long hair and coughs once, then again. His nerves are getting to him. She’s too close to him, her bare thigh soft against his leg. He begins to count backward in his head.
“Were you really awake already, or did I wake you?” She asks him all of a sudden. Her eyes stay on him as if waiting for him to say something else.
“You don’t believe me? I was awake. Swear.” He raises his free hand at his side.
She appears to mull that over for a bit, bringing her cup of tea to her lips but not taking a sip. “What were you doing?”
Jungkook is silent, and she sits unmoving until he speaks.
What was I doing? Besides dreading another deadline? Thinking about a comic I might not submit or thinking about not having a shot in hell with a girl like you? Images of the times they’ve run into each other flick by in his head like a slow PowerPoint slide. The registration office, desolate stairwells, crowded evacuations, elevators closing, Rei standing in front of him in a summer dress with a strange look on her face; Rei on his back patio, hunched over with a phone near her face; Rei in his apartment, on his couch, next to him. He feels the adam’s apple in his throat rising and falling. He’s been quiet for who knows how long.
“Thinking, I guess.” He breathes out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I don’t know why I took so long to say that. It sounded boring in my head, so I had to think if there was something else I forgot about.”
“That is pretty boring, just thinking. But that’s life, though, isn’t it? Kind of boring sometimes.”
Jungkook nods, blushing and avoiding looking at her. What if she can read minds? He straightens his posture and runs his fingers through his hair again, his eyes fixed on the ceiling of carved-out stars. It’s OK. It’s OK. She’s still here.
The living room is almost dead silent. Jungkook notices how Rei sips her tea and looks over the area. It’s neat, for the most part. Bam’s toys lay scattered near the laundry room entrance, along with some of Jungkook’s dirty socks the dog likes to chew on, and Bam’s food bowls are resting up against the wall beside his doghouse. The potted plants Namjoon gifted Jungkook are still alive and pop against the beige coloring of the walls in front of them. The TV is massive, his Playstation console resting on its side. Her eyes find the corner shelf where Jungkook’s Marvel figurines are on display behind glass doors, and she turns to look at him with a sparkle in her wide eyes. “Are those yours?” She gestures with her thumb. He nods, chewing his lower lip anxiously. “Can I look?” She rises from her seat when he motions for her to go on. Like standing in a museum, she silently peers into the display with her hands clasped behind her back.
“I just got that case a few days ago when I got that plant next to you,” Jungkook remarks, joining her.
“I remember,” she says distractedly.
“You remember?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at her fixedly, bringing a fingernail to his mouth. He scrunches his eyebrows, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers; he remembers, too.
He’d bumped into Rei on his way upstairs, both arms holding the bonsai trees obstructing his view, taking long strides up the stairs, chanting to himself and grunting in rhythm. He was on the 50th stair.
“Hey!” A voice shouted at him. “What the hell?”
Jerking to the side of the staircase, flattening against it, Jungkook jumped at this voice. “Sorry! You’re okay?”
The voice struck him as familiar, but mostly, he was surprised he wasn't alone on the staircase. The person laughed a lively laugh, and he felt his chest tighten. He lowered the plants, meeting her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, shaking her head. She grinned at him, and his heart gave a squeeze. “These things happen. I should take the elevator next time.”
“The plants, I mean. You walked past me going up the stairs and hit me on the head with it.” She glances to her right, catching his eyes briefly. He groans, nodding lightly. She continues, voicing their shared memory, “You were carrying two pots of plants that day and lost your balance or something like that.”
He nods with his eyes closed, his eyebrows drawn close together as he tongues his cheek. “I remember, too,” he opens his eyes to look over at her as he continues, “sorry again. My friend told me not to do that, and I didn’t listen.”
A Spiderman figurine holds her attention, and she’s smiling. He feels his cheeks burn at her sincere gesture. She pretends not to notice and says, “You like running into me like that, then?”
“Like how? It was an accident,” Jungkook says, standing beside her and stretching his arms behind his head.
“Riiiiight,” she says, smirking. “Accident.”
“I didn’t know you were in the stairwell. No one takes the stairs,” Jungkook counters, his voice taking on a defensive edge.
“I take the stairs, I like the exercise, and it’s less embarrassing for me,” She admits. “Running in front of people just looks so stupid. I get too worked up about it and think people are just laughing at me, and they might be, but this way, I can do it in private.”
“Running across the street when cars let you pass is very embarrassing for no reason,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “And okay, fair. I took the stairs that time just because the wait for the elevator was so long. I didn’t mean to hit you that time either.”
“Jungkook, we have to stop meeting like this.” She gives her head a light shake and looks down at her hands. She picks at the glitter on her nails distractedly. “So many accidents. We’re too clumsy.”
“I know what you mean. Namjoon told me to leave one of the plants in the lobby, but I was too impatient. I’m like that sometimes.” He can’t seem to stop blushing.
But Jungkook has to agree. There have been too many accidents in their run-ins with each other, and he remembers each encounter with extreme detail.
Jungkook saw her for the first time when he moved in and face-planted into her back as she stood by the entrance of the registration office. But it didn't happen right away, at least.
The office was big and bustling with sounds. Jungkook walked in, asked out loud if there was a line, and someone nearby replied that yes, there was a line, and he was right at the tail of it. He bounced on the heels of his feet, humming a melody to himself, tapping his fingers against the sides of his legs. A TV across from him played a K-Pop music video of a group he’d never heard of. Beneath the TV was a table with a Terra Kaffe espresso machine accompanied by a spread of dan-pat bbang, songpyeon, bingsu, and reusable cups. His stomach grumbled, but he kept still, willing himself to look away.
Rei stood in line, a foot or two in front of Jungkook, sporting her hair pulled back, secured neatly with a clip the shape of a butterfly. She wore casual clothing: a black long-sleeve sweatshirt, baggy pants, and white Nike shoes. She had earbuds in, and he could hear the muffled sounds of a guitar, and though he did not fully understand why, he smiled.
“Next in line, please,” a woman behind a glass window called out, taking an uninspired sip of her iced coffee as she waved a hand toward her. “Come on, next in line.”
Jungkook wore a black t-shirt, navy plaid bottoms, and socks with slides, though standing there, he began to regret his attire. His eyes looked over the office, and mentally, he tallied the number of girls he spotted. Nine. He felt his cheeks warming up, his neck growing hot, and when he looked over to his right, a girl waved at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He blushed, nodding at her. Why hadn’t he worn something nicer?
He was adjusting his sock, balancing on his right leg, when a dog ran past him, toppling him over. He hopped on his right leg, his arms flailing at his sides, and his face instantly smashed into Rei’s back. If he had a chance to do it over, he wouldn’t have cried out so loud. Even now, months later, he cringes at the memory. He’d turned away, cupping his aching nose after she whipped her head over her shoulder at the sudden impact. Their eyes met briefly, her pupils dark and wide; she mouthed something to him, his ears ringing, all of the sounds around him muddled into incoherence.
“I’m so sorry. Excuse me,” Jungkook mumbled, turning at his heel and speed-walking past a group of girls that giggled when he passed them.
Jungkook thought about her all day after that first day. While he unpacked, walked Bam, and cooked for himself later in the evening. She was pretty, sure, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t break apart and understand— it was new and brought on a strange sensation and desire to know her. He didn't know it then, but he’d see so much of her it would become nearly impossible not to think of her.
And here they are, five months later.
“You agree, don't you?” Rei prods. “Maybe you’re the clumsy one, Jungkook. I was just standing there.” She says that like she knows what he’s thinking. That first day they saw each other. She’s thought of it too.
He swoons at the sound of his name escaping her lips again. “Jungkook,” he mouths, taking it in—not wanting to forget how it sounds when she says it.
She turns on her heel, returning to the couch and fetching her phone from between the cushions. Her backside faces Jungkook, and he shyly lowers his gaze when he catches a glimpse of her ass in shorts that do a poor job of hiding anything. “I’m impatient too, as you know now,” she offers, looking down at her phone, her face illuminated with the screen's glow. She reads something and has a serious look on her face. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”
He squints at the clock on the stove. 4:27. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replies, trying to hide his disappointment.
“Your figures are cool, by the way. They look like the real deal. Are they?”
He nods silently, tonguing his lip ring. Jungkook watches her with a gut-wrenching desire to step forward and take her face into his hands and kiss her.
“You’re a Marvel geek. I'm guessing,” she says, staring down at the ground. It’s like she’s suddenly shy. Her voice is quieter. “I like some of the movies. I saw the new Spider-man with my friends last week. I’m late, I know.”
“I have Disney plus,” Jungkook says, his eyes looking her over. “And I’m not trying to say anything like the ramen stuff, you know, all that stuff people say to each other recently to get together. It’s a real offer.”
Rei laughs, bringing a hand to cover her face. “So you don't want to get together?” She looks at him with a deep intensity in her eyes and smiles coyly, making Jungkook swallow hard.
“I said that, didn't I? That’s not what I meant. It’s just that nowadays, words have different meanings. Let me rephrase-”
She takes a step closer to him, and his chest feels ablaze. She’s so close he can smell the fragrance of her clothing much clearer than before. We use the same detergent.
“I’d like to come by sometime,” she says, her eyes lingering on his hands holding his cup, “for a movie, no ramen.” Now she smiles warmly and takes a step back.
She likes doing this to me. It’s torture.
“Really?”
“Yeah, why not? You seem nice. I don’t think you’d be a freak, right?”
“Right,” he says, nodding.
“I know we’re technically strangers, but you have a good vibe,” she says, shrugging. “I show up here so late, and you serve me tea. You’re a nice guy.”
“Am I?”
“I think so. Are you?” She quirks up an eyebrow, twitching her lips between a smile and a laugh.
Jungkook smiles at her. He feels his cheeks growing warm. “I am. I don’t know why I challenged you about it.”
“Because you like to flirt with me, I think,” she retorts, crossing her arms across her chest.
“I’m just a nice guy,” he says as he places his palms  against the kitchen counter for balance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” She glances at her phone screen, reading the time, and Jungkook does the same with the time on the kitchen stove. She's going to leave. I can feel it.
“I guess I should get going…”. Rei looks apologetic for some reason. A pink shade colors her cheeks, and she brings a hand to her forehead and lets out a deep breath as she says, “Kinda hot in here, no?”
Jungkook wants to tell her she doesn't have to go and that he doesn't want her to, but he only offers her a timid smile and looks away, nodding in agreement. “A little. I’ve been feeling it too,” he says, looking at her and catching her eyes.
Should I move now? Is it now? My move? Will she kiss me back?
Still, he brings his cup of tea to his lips as she stores her phone in the pocket of her hoodie, and she pauses as if remembering something. “And why is there a mattress outside?”
He’s drinking his tea and begins to choke. Coughing, his chest on fire, and his throat closing in, Jungkook rushes to double over his sink, and she’s standing behind him with a wrought-up look.
“Are you okay?” She steps closer to him, lightly touching his arm.
Jungkook coughs, clearing his throat; he can feel the blood rushing to his face as his eyes instinctively shed tears. The feeling of her touch on his arm feels like fire. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. The uh, the mattress?” He looks toward his patio, a panicked look in his eyes behind the tear-stained glasses. He pauses, looking down at the floor. “I have them all over, so I can nap when I feel like it.”
She throws her head back and laughs, not taking him seriously until silence hangs between them. She raises an eyebrow. “Wait, really?” With that, her phone goes off in her pocket, and she reaches for it. “Sorry, one sec.”
He leaves her to talk on the phone with whoever and walks over to pick up Bam’s toys and dirty socks to throw in a hamper. Jungkook can hear the muffled phone conversation a room over, so he hums a song. She speaks in a hushed voice, but he hears his name mentioned.
He coughs before he reappears in the kitchen.
She’s humming to herself, lingering by the door, and his heart squeezes. ‘Don’t go,’ he wants to say. ‘Stay.’
“I should go…” she says, not budging from where she stands, chewing her lower lip, looking at Jungkook through full eyelashes. Almost as if waiting for him to interject, and him, not knowing how to.
“If you want,” Jungkook says. He swallows hard at a lump in his throat. The plead to have her stay pushed down into his chest.
DAMN!! 
A look he can’t decipher takes over her face, and then the next moment, she’s smiling at him, reaching for the doorknob just as he does. They share an embarrassed exchange of looks when their hands touch, and he shakes his head, an anxious chuckle escaping him. His face feels warm as he pulls the door open for her. Rei steps out into the hallway, turns over her shoulder, and raises her hand to wave at him slowly.
Again, he yearns to kiss her and again lacks the courage.
“Bye, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook.”
“Goodnight, Rei,” he replies, leaning on the doorframe, his heart sinking into his stomach.
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The next day, Jungkook is cooking for himself. He submitted his comic in the morning and has endlessly replayed last night’s events in his head.
“I should’ve kissed her,” he says to Bam.
Jungkook’s phone pings a few times and is followed by a call. He answers, distracted as he serves himself bibimmyeon and pork belly. He props the phone between his chin and ear, tilting his head comically as he walks back and forward to the table, setting down a steaming bowl of sticky rice. “‘Ey, Namjoon-hyung!…” He drags the chair out from underneath and settles in front of his plate. Jungkook reaches over the table, yanks a paper towel, grabs his chopsticks, and begins digging into the rice. “Wait,” he glances at the clock on the wall. 6:47. “It’s almost seven,” Jungkook says, confused. “Your meeting with the record executive started at six… it ended that quickly?”
Namjoon smiles. “The meeting was quick. I have really good news.” He pauses for effect. He’s in the studio, eyeing the email on screen. “Hold on,” he says, placing the phone on the desk and turning the speaker on.
 Jungkook is chewing his cheek, the chopsticks loosening in his grip. He lets the silence exist for a few seconds, then he rubs the back of his hair, leaning back in his chair, his spare hand fisted over his mouth. “What?” He grumbles into his fist.
“He liked my demo. He had some comments about it but said it would do well. He said everyone else liked it; whatever that means, we’re in. He said we can come in for a group meeting where we introduce the guys, and that way, we can all talk about what we want to do going forward.”
Jungkook is speechless; they’re in. All seven of them. He can’t believe it. He stares wide-eyed at Bam, who tilts his head quizzically. “No way. No way. Is this for real?” Jungkook’s heart is thudding so hard he can see it beneath his shirt.
“I swear, Jungkook. It is.”
“Do the guys know?” Once more, Jungkook meets the eyes of his dog, and he’s smiling so hard he feels his nose scrunch.
“Some of them do, yeah. I was with Jimin earlier.”
“Yoongi,” Jungkook says, bringing his palm over his forehead. Smiling with his eyes crinkling, he feeds himself rice. “Yoongi will be so happy. We all are, you know but him .” Jungkook makes a sound with his teeth. “He’ll be so proud of all of us.”
“I know, I know. Yoongi hasn’t slept well since we first submitted our demos, and when I mentioned I had a meeting with an executive, he grabbed his jacket and took off to the studio. I don’t know what he’s been doing when he comes in, but I know he might cry.”
“I might cry too,” Jungkook admits in a hushed voice.
Namjoon wipes at his eyes, and a silence hangs between them. They’re both sniveling on the receiving end. After Jungkook clears his throat and allows himself another sniffle, he starts eating again.
“What did you make?”
“I have a lot of rice left. I made bibimmyeon and pork belly, but I have some noodles, too, if you want me to make them. Come and eat with me if you’re free. Let’s celebrate.”
“Can I leave my bike outside?” Namjoon asks. Namjoon shuts off the shared laptop in the studio, grabs his puffer jacket and the book he’s been reading, heads over, and flips off the light switch. His phone remains on speaker as he locks the door and shoots a glance down the hallway. From a distance, Yoongi does a quick two-finger salute in passing. Namjoon’s heart gives a squeeze.
Jungkook thinks it over. He’s never seen anyone leave a bike outside. “I don't know, honestly. Bring it to my apartment; it’ll be fine. I have something to tell you, by the way,” he says, referring to the previous night.
“Just saw Yoongi,” Namjoon says, jingling the keys on his finger and making his way out of the building. “I have to tell him, but I think he’s already in his studio locked up. You know how he gets.”
“He won’t let you in,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose and stifling a laugh through a mouthful of steak.
“Exactly. And what is it? I’m bringing my bike, I thought about leaving it chained, but it’ll stress me out.”
“He’s almost done with his demos, Hobi said the other day,” Jungkook replies. “But it’s about her, bro. You won’t believe me.”
Namjoon laughs through the phone. “Mystery-neighbor-crush her, you mean?”
“Neighbor stuff, am I that annoying? Don't answer that. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you; just come in because I have to wash Bam.”
“All right, bro, give me twenty, and I’ll be there.”
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Jungkook is sitting across from Namjoon, who raises an eyebrow at him as he chews on his steak. “So she came in here,” he swallows his bite and continues, “was on that couch?” he signals with his chopsticks, “and she went home after that?”
Jungkook nods. The moment he’s been dreading: admitting he chickened out. He’s not proud of himself and debates whether to omit a few things.
“Yeah, what else could’ve happened?” He takes a drink of his water, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze.
“So many things, bro. But, the very least that should have happened is that you got her number or something like that. Did you ask?”
Jungkook is quiet. His cheeks are flushing with heat. He’s chuckling at himself, remembering how he clammed up around her.
“You just let her leave, right? She walked out, thanked you, and you probably made her a tea she didn't drink.” Namjoon is laughing when Jungkook groans and shakes a fist above his head. “Ah, Jungkook!”
“I know!” Jungkook shakes his head. “But I got a name. I got a name; that’s something, isn't it?”
“Well?”
“It’s Rei. I don’t know where she’s from and all that, but that name just suits her, doesn't it?”
“It does, it does. But come on, bro! This girl lives so close!  For starters, she stuck around. She could've just left after explaining herself. Instead, she sat down right where you’re sitting and stayed .” Namjoon feeds himself rice as he shakes his head and continues while he chews, “She looked at you the last time we evacuated; I saw her. And how many times have you bumped into her already? She probably thinks you’re out to get her.”
“I know. I kept thinking the same. I thought: ‘She could've left by now, but she hasn’t. I don’t know, hyung, I just froze. I just kept nodding; it was so stupid.” Jungkook closes his eyes and places his fingertips over his eyelids, shaking his head in lament.
“Not stupid, bro,” Namjoon offers, swallowing his bite. “I’ve seen her around too, and she’s really pretty, but it’s a weird sensation when she’s nearby; it’s like her beauty is different. I don't mean it like I want her now, nothing like that, but it sort of feels like I am stuck too. Like, what can I say right now?”
Jungkook nods, understanding the sentiment. “It knocks the wind out of me sometimes when I see her,” he says, reaching for a napkin. “I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn't. It was different being close to her like we were. This girl is killing me, Namjoon-hyung. You said she looked at me?”
Namjoon smiles warmly. “She did, at the evacuation a week ago. Was it a week now?” He wipes at his mouth and looks at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook nods at him. “Well, a week ago, I went out last and caught her looking your way. She had her hand like this,” he brings his hand up to shield his eyes against nothing, “and she was smiling. She didn't see me noticing.”
Jungkook scoots closer. He rests his chin on Namjoon’s knee, looking straight at him until he’s cross-eyed. “At me?” he asks, loving that this happened.
Namjoon shakes his leg free and takes a sip of his water. “I think she likes you. She was looking at you the same way I’ve seen you look at her,” Namjoon reaches for his phone, checks a text, and continues, “so she would’ve been into you. Did she flirt with you?”
Jungkook mulls it over. He doesn't want to read too much into it, but he thinks she did flirt. “I could be wrong, and I’d hate to be wrong,” he says, “but I feel like she was into me, like, actually into me, and I thought about kissing her. Would that have been too forward?”
“Hmm,” Namjoon says as he chews his food. “Maybe. I have to see you two in action, to say. I think you can trust your gut, and if you felt that way, maybe she was giving you those vibes on purpose, you know? Sometimes girls are so forward that it's confusing. Like, ‘am I reading this wrong?’ When the whole time there was only one way to read it.” He gives his head a light shake.
“She was talkative like Yoongi predicted.”
“Oh, was she now?” Namjoon looks surprised. “I sided with Jimin when he said she seemed shy and kind of mean. Not mean, but you know the mean look girls have that makes them look kind of cool?”
Jungkook nods with a mouthful of steak.
“That’s actually interesting that she was talkative. That’s good. I think you’d do bad to get with a shy chick again.”
Jungkook once dated a girl in high school he didn't know how to talk to, and when he meant to break things off, he’d just ignored her for the entire year. She was too shy, too quiet, too reserved. He was everything else but.
“I agree with you on that,” Jungkook says honestly. “Back to Rei, she’s even prettier up close, hyung. I thought I was in a dream, that sounds so cheesy, but it’s true.”
“It was, what, four in the morning?”
“Three. Close to four.”
“Exactly. I would think that's a dream too. Seems like it. Are you sure you’re not messing with me?” Namjoon elbows Jungkook lightly.
“I want her. Is that so pathetic?”
“A little bit,” Namjoon teases, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to a slight pinch. “Like this tiny little space right here is where you live.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes as he walks into the kitchen for a beer.
“Honestly, Jungkook, I think she likes you back. Pass me the rice. Want some of the steaks?” He shows Jungkook his bowl, and Jungkook accepts, opening his mouth to be fed. “You can feed yourself.”
“Ah,” Jungkook says, mouth agape. “Just one piece.”
Namjoon is feeding Jungkook rice when the doorbell rings. The two exchange bewildered looks, and Jungkook shuffles from the ground, sliding on the flooring with his socks as he peers through the peephole. He falls to the ground as if shot, crouching with a deathly look about him.
Namjoon shifts in his seat on the floor and, stretching his neck, asks Jungkook who it is. Over and over, quietly, he’s asking who’s at the door.
Jungkook doesn't answer until Namjoon stands. He shoots a hand up to grab Namjoon’s sleeve, motioning him to crouch beside him. Whispering, he says, “It’s Rei; what do I do?”
“Get up!”
“I can't. I can't. I don't know what she wants. What if she knows?”
“Knows what? Get up; I’m opening the door in 3, 2,...”
Jungkook stands. He can feel his heart beating viciously, and his hands are sweating. He glares at Namjoon, raising his hand and motioning for a cutthroat. “I’ll kill you,” he mouths as his friend walks away.
Jungkook peers into the peephole and sees her turning away. He pulls back the door quickly, causing her to turn around. She smiles, and he wants her all over again. His relaxed demeanor vanished. “Hey, what’s going on?” are his first words.
Rei laughs, and he can feel himself blushing. He drops his head when he remembers Namjoon is a witness.
“Hey, neighbor,” she says, smiling the same coy smile she lent him last night. She pulls a paper from her pocket, extends it to him, and says, “It’s an invite to my birthday party this weekend; if you don't have any plans, I thought it would be nice to hang out and see you again. I’ll have friends over, and of course, you can bring yours.”
A party? Wait, see me again?? “I will be there. This weekend. I’ll make an appearance.” He stops talking when she laughs. He can feel the blood boiling on his face. What the hell is going on with him? “Sorry, yes, I mean, thank you.” Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s burning gaze behind him—he can picture how his friend stifles a laugh into his fist.
“No problem. Who’s that?” She points inside the apartment.
Namjoon waves when Jungkook turns around to see him standing behind him, a smirk tugging at his lips. Jungkook widens his eyes at him, mouthing for him to stop laughing. Stepping aside for his friend’s introduction, Jungkook signals toward his friend with a swift movement of his hand. “Namjoon, this is Rei. Rei, this is Namjoon, a good friend and gifter of bonsai trees.”
“I’ve seen you, no?” she talks to Namjoon, who nods, flexing his pointer finger, indicating that she has. He’s chewing cheese puffs, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow at him, silently questioning him: ‘Where did you get those?’ His stare says.
“At the evacuation, I was there.”
“Ah, yes, you had bright green hair like a highlighter pen then.”
He laughs. “That was me, yeah! You were with that girl, the…one with the red hair in pigtails.”
“Ah. That’s right! You have a good memory.” She sounds impressed.
Jungkook tongues his cheek, shaking his head beside them unnoticed.
“You too, you too. Cheese puff?” Namjoon offers a bag of cheese puffs.
“You’re tempting me, but I will have to decline. I just had lunch.”
“Your friend, the one with the pigtails, will she be at this party?”
Namjoon is nervous, but he plays it off well. Only Jungkook can tell.
“I think she can be there,” Rei replies, her eyes shifty and full lips pursing. She seems to think it over, anxiously looking at Jungkook and chewing on her lower lip. It’s as though she’s waiting for Jungkook to glance her way. Only Namjoon is seeing this.
Jungkook is annoyed. They’re talking so easily. He shifts uncomfortably, his fingers gripping the door. He watches how Namjoon chuckles and how she timidly looks down at her hands. The glittery nail polish made his heart feel like a stone in his chest. He wants to interject. But how?
“I’m sure the guys will be free this weekend too; we might celebrate our little accomplishment here sometime soon, so Jungkook can tell you about that and invite you when the time comes, right, Jungkook?”
Jungkook only nods. That’s all he seems to be capable of when she’s around. He feels so strange around her. He feels the same way each time, like he’s coming down with something suddenly. Didn’t it just get so hot out here with the door open like this? He wonders. Is anyone else sweating?
Their voices continue around him. He nods a few times when the conversation shifts toward him, but he feels lightheaded. He wants her so badly.
He doesn’t mean to, but he clears his throat, turning the conversation around him to a simmer.
“So, Jungkook, Namjoon told me he’d come this weekend and bring your other friends. There’s a theme, by the way.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s fairytale-themed!” She raises her arms above her head like a big reveal and holds her pose, awaiting their reaction.
Namjoon laughs, turning away; he says: “I’ll give it good thought! Thank you for the invite, Rei!”
“And you?” She looks at Jungkook.
“Me?” Jungkook swallows hard at a lump in his throat. His brain seems to forget how to form sentences when she’s around.
“Yes, you. Do you have any ideas, JK?” she smiles, lopsided.
Is she flirting with me? Here? Namjoon-hyung! Come back!
“I have to rewatch all of my favorite fairytale movies to have an idea,” he says, bringing a hand to his head. He feels the heat emitting from his forehead. “I’m kidding. I think something cool like Dracula.”
“Is that a fairytale?” She laughs.
“Define a fairytale. Isn’t it just make-believe?”
“You don’t think vampires are real?” She raises an eyebrow at him, but he can tell she’s intentionally giving him a hard time. Her smile is surfacing and betraying her.
“I do, actually. Ah, okay. Give me time. I’ll think of something. What about you? Who are you going as?”
She pretends to think it over even though she already has an idea. “I won’t say; you’ll have to see.”
He’s fully leaning against the doorframe, his foot slipping under him, and he almost falls over. He mutters something to himself, and she’s biting back a laugh. “You want tea or something before you go? If you’re not busy.”
“Ah, I want to say yes, but my friends are upstairs; I just stopped by real quick but thank you.”
He nods. “That’s okay, next time.”
“I’ll catch you two later,” she says, waving.
She turns to walk away, and Jungkook doesn't know what takes over him, but he shouts after her: “Thank you!”
He’s too embarrassed to see if she turns around. He closes the door immediately.
He doesn't even want to look at Namjoon. He stands facing the door for a while, his head hanging low, eyebrows scrunched up in physical anguish. He chews his lip and winces at himself, remembering.
“I said that out loud,” Jungkook says, incredulous with himself.
“You said that out loud,” Namjoon reiterates from somewhere in the room.
Sighing, Jungkook turns over, and flinches at a grape Namjoon tosses at him. His nose scrunching, he catches another grape mid-air and chews noisily. “She wants to know me properly,” he says, with a dreamy air.
“So be her prince charming,” Namjoon jokes, plopping down on his couch, busy on his phone.
“So I will be,” Jungkook says, tilting his head back to look up at his ceiling. She’s up there, walking around, talking to her friends, and he’s beneath her, dreaming of the weekend. “What day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
“Let’s go; I need an outfit.”
“Now?”
“Now, get up! Get up!”
“Let me finish my grapes; I just washed them,” Namjoon whines, still not glancing from his phone’s screen.
“Okay, but after, we’ll go.” Jungkook walks into his room, grabs his glasses, and steps back out.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Jungkook nods, biting the corner of his lip distractedly. “Oh, I’m serious.” He reaches for the car keys on the table beside him. “I’ve never been more serious.”
And he is. He’s never been more serious about anything else. He wants Rei, but he wants her to want him, too. He can’t help but feel as though his luck is turning out.
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taglist: @vsualitae​
A/N: thank you for being here! I hope those that looked forward to the full first chapter have enjoyed this! It's my first lengthy fic, as I've already stated, so any feedback is greatly appreciated! reblogs, comments, and anything that lets me know you've enjoyed this will make me the happiest writer :') I appreciate you for giving my work a shot <3 Let me know if you'd like a second part, what you liked, etc. I'd love to hear from you, reader >.< until next time!!
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omgrachwrites · 7 months
Text
I Wanna Be Yours - Dalton Lambert
Pairing: Dalton Lambert x Reader
Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, jealous!Dalton
Summary: When you start dating a frat boy, Dalton is jealous but not for the reason you think.
A/N: Wooo! My jealous!Dalton one shot is finally here! I am also gonna be writing another multi part fic for Dalton and I am v excited! Please let me know what you think and I hope you guys all enjoy, I love you all very much! xxx
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You looked up from where you were chopping the veggies for dinner when you heard a quiet huff escape your best friend’s mouth. He pressed play on the crime drama show, letting the opening credits roll before he paused it again. Dalton glanced at you from over his shoulder, making you laugh.
“What?” you asked innocently, giggling when he shook his head, “hey, you wanted to watch the show too,” you accused.
He grumbled as he ran a hand through his hair, “yeah but I didn’t realise I’d have to watch you moon over Richard Armitage,” he chuckled before he continued, “uh, are you sure that it’s not weird for you and Chris to be coming out with me and my parent’s tomorrow?”
Dalton’s parents were getting back together and they were coming to town to have dinner with their son. They had very kindly extended the invitation to include you and Chris, knowing how close the three of you were.
“I can’t speak for Chris but I like your parents,” it was true, you did like them, they were really nice people.
Dalton snorted out a laugh, “you’re just saying that because you fancy my dad.”
You flushed at his words but didn’t deny them because he was right, you did fancy his dad. Dalton’s dad was hot, “I thought we had agreed that we’d never speak of that conversation again,” you mumbled.
You had been very drunk when you had admitted to Dalton that you fancied his dad, it was his fault for dragging you to the frat party in the first place. He grinned at your words and you couldn’t stop looking at him as his cheeks dimpled. You should have been paying attention because the knife slipped and pain shot through your finger.
“Fuck!” you gasped and dropped the knife.
Dalton frowned as he heard the metal clatter on the kitchen surface and he immediately made his way over, “Y/N, let me see it.”
You shook your head quickly, blood made you feel queasy, “I’m sure it’s fine,” you shielded it from view.
“Angel,” Dalton’s voice was firm as he looked into your eyes but he still flushed as the pet name fell from his lips, “let me see it,” he repeated, causing you to nod and he pulled your hand to him gently to inspect the wound.
You sucked in a breath as you refused to look at it, “am I bleeding loads?” you asked and Dalton hummed.
“Yep, I think we’re gonna have to cut it off.”
“What?!” you yelped, completely losing your head.
Dalton grinned up at you with an apologetic look on his face, “sorry, I was kidding, it’s not deep, you just need a band aid,” he walked over to the kitchen cupboard to get his first aid kit. Dalton decided at the start of the second year that he wanted to live off campus.
You watched him as he did so and he went to pull out a Spider-Man band aid, “wait! I want a Superman one,” you flushed as he looked at you with a raised eyebrow but nodded all the same as he walked back over to you.
He was extremely gentle as he put the band aid on, “I thought that Spider-Man was your favourite?” he asked.
You forced a weak smile, “he is, I just fancied a change,” you blushed, you could hardly tell him that the reason for the change was because Superman was his favourite.
He accepted this though as he smiled and brought your finger to his lips and pressed a small kiss to it, “there you go.”
“You smiled, “thanks, I’m sorry about the veggies.”
Dalton laughed as he shook his head, “they don’t belong on pizza anyway.”
Almost 24 hours later, you were sitting across from Dalton, Josh was next to him with Renai and Chris on either side of you. Dalton had had a bit of a haircut, it wasn’t much shorter but it looked good and you could barely keep your eyes away. But, it was okay, you were an expert on sneaking glances at your best friend.
Finally, the conversation turned from classes to your life beyond them, Dalton and Chris talked about the frat parties they’d attended, Josh looked proud while Renai looked protective. You were contented to simply listen and eat your food.
Renai looked at you with a soft smile, “and what about you sweetie?”
Before you could answer, Chris smirked over at you, “she didn’t tell you? She’s got a date on Saturday.”
You glared at her while Renai gushed, “that’s amazing! Tell us all about it.”
You laughed and you were about to launch into the story when Dalton spoke up, “it’s the guy from the frat party,” it was a statement not a question and your smile dropped slightly as you looked over at him.
He had no expression on his face, it was in eyes, eyes that were once the warm blue colour of the ocean were now two chips of ice, “you never told me.”
Josh threw you a look that you couldn’t decipher before he looked at his son with a light laugh, “does she have to tell you? Are you her dad?”
Dalton said nothing as he looked down at his plate and pushed his food around. The tension was slightly awkward but with Josh cracking jokes it soon dissipated but Dalton didn’t speak to you for the rest of the night.
When it came for you to go home, he let you take a cab with Chris – he normally insisted on taking you right to your door. He muttered to Chris about texting him when she got home but he said nothing to you. When he wrapped one arm around you in a poor attempt of a hug his body was rigid. You didn’t know what his problem was. Was he really that annoyed that you hadn’t told him? You decided to text him when you got back to the dorm.
You: what the hell is your problem?
The text went unanswered which pissed you off.
Your date with Brad was nice, he was really sweet and nothing like the usual frat boy. Even when his friends called him halfway through dessert to try and get him to a watch a ball game with them, he opted to stay with you, and he even walked you home afterwards. You let him kiss you beneath the streetlight outside your dorm building.
When Chris put a message in the group chat asking you how the date went, you told her everything. Dalton stayed silent. The happy bubble that the date had created in your chest when you realised he’d been reading all the messages but he hadn’t cared enough to reply. Fine, you thought, if he wasn’t going to care about you then you weren’t going to care about him. He couldn’t have it both ways.
You barely lasted a week without seeing or speaking to Dalton but it was the longest you’d ever gone without any contact from him. You were hurt but you still decided to enjoy yourself, you weren’t going to wallow in your misery. Though you were pissed off and when he hadn’t tried to reach out you decided to go to his apartment and get answers for yourself.
You knocked on the door of his apartment and there was silence behind the door, but you saw a shadow from the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You rolled your eyes as the shadow stayed there but the door didn’t open.
“I know you’re there, Dalton. I can see your feet,” a thunk came from the other side of the door and you vaguely wondered if he’d leaned his head against it before the door swung open.
He looked good in grey sweatpants and a white tee, he looked tired like he hadn’t slept in days and he raised an eyebrow as he lingered in the doorway. You swallowed as you looked at his face, “can I come in?” he stood aside to let you in, you walked in and decided to cut to the chase, “what’s your problem, Dalton?”
He sighed and shrugged petulantly as he leaned his hip against the counter, “I didn’t want to bother you while you were dating your lost cause.”
“Lost cause? Brad’s really nice, you don’t have to be a dick.”
Dalton rolled his eyes, “oh come on Y/N don’t be so naïve, I’m sure all frat guys start out nice before they’re slipping something into your drink. They’re all the same.”
You could tell that he believed what he was saying but it looked like there was something else on his mind, “it’s not just that though is it? Dalton, you’re being a complete ass right now but you’re my best friend. What’s going on?”
Dalton sighed and his eyes softened, he raked a hand through his hair as he looked away from you. He took a deep breath as he looked back at your face, “I’m jealous.”
You frowned, “Dalton, even though I’m dating someone I’m not gonna stop hanging around with you and Chris, you guys are my friends, my family,” you completely missed the point.
Dalton’s eyes widened, “are you really that oblivious?” when you raised a questioning eyebrow he continued, fiddling with his fingers, “I’m jealous because I’ve fallen for you. Fallen for the girl who travelled an hour out of the city just to get my favourite hangover cure, the girl who would literally stay up with me over FaceTime when The Further got really bad. I love you, Y/N. I can’t keep pretending I don’t. I’m sorry that I’ve been a dick but,” he stammered, “the thought of you with someone else broke my heart.”
You were silent as your stomach lurched and you stared at him, he stared back before he swallowed nervously as hurt filled his blue eyes, “you can’t do this, Dalton.”
“What?” he whispered.
“Do you know how hard it was trying to get over you? To convince myself you only saw me as a friend. Loving you breaks my heart, Dalton. Brad was only ever meant to be a distraction,” you trailed off, not finishing the sentence.
“But, you actually like him,” Dalton finished for you and you nodded.
A part of you was screaming to just give in to him and tell him that you still loved him, the feelings that you had almost talked yourself out of came rushing back. You were fixed in place as Dalton walked over to you, resting a finger against your chin.
“You need to tell me that you don’t have any feelings for me anymore, tell me and we’ll forget this, we’ll stay friends and I’ll get over you and let you be happy. But Y/N, if there is one part of you that still has feelings for me, please Y/N, please just let me love you.”
You didn’t say anything, how could you? You couldn’t say that you would drop everything to be with him, even for just a night. What you felt must have been clear in your face because Dalton leaned in, his eyes flicking to your face to look for any sign you were going to reject him or any sign that you didn’t want this. When he didn’t find either he kissed you so softly.
“We need to talk about this, properly,” you whispered as he pulled away from you.
“I know.”
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ryuseibutgayer · 6 months
Note
GAHHHJ IM SORRY BUT I LOVE MIZO MID BOYS SM 😭
A little cuddling date with Mizo mid boys sound sosososisosiisossoso 🥹
🦈
I LIVVVVVVE MY SWEET ANON (*^3^)/~☆ My apology for this being as late as it was- I was so excited to work on this too, it's such a sweet idea 😭 I was just bombarded by horrific news and bad weather, I hope you can at least understand (I won't wish you to know the experience, because if you do, then we both know how shitty it is).
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝙰𝚜𝚜 𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊
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YAMAGISHI
• If you two just set up the date where the raw purpose of it is to cuddle
•Oohhhhh boy
• Better hope you don't move a lot cause there's so much SHIT just SPEWN ALLLLLL OVER HIS BED AND BETWEEN THE BLANKETS 😭
• It's only shit he planned to be there tho• Like Yamagishi wanted you to be able to just palm around the blankets and just pull out a snack bag from the bed's inventory
• So thoughtful
• if you're a cold person, I genuinely don't know how you'll feel knowing this but
• He's like grossly warm
• Yes yay he's warm and cuddly and all nice wooo
• But what the fuck
• Shottie's that weiiiird warm, I don't know if you understand but
• There you go
• Do with that what you will
• I get the feeling that he routinely gets up to pee every half hour 😭
• HIS CUDDLES ARE GREAT! His arms are just MWAH smug and comfy- it's just- fucking sit still boy, cmon
• He's definitely the guy to rest his chin on top of your head. Big spoon or little spoon, he gotta have a chin spot
• If he could sit still, he'd be a solid 9/10 cuddler, so I'm gonna go ahead and put him as a 8.2 😌
MAKOTO
• t h e r e . i s . n o . e s c a p e .
• He's very polite and makes sure to ask if you're all comfyyyyy or if there's anything you might need to grab to have nearrrr and he snuggles up so nice as (preferably) the bigger spoooon
• and once he has his hands on you
• you're not fucking leaving
• excuse you? No, I don't care if your colon implodes, we're on a fucking cuddle date, that means cuddles and you can't give cuddles if you LEAVE ME-
• 😭😭 I mean he doesn't mean to, and I swear he barely notices it ok?
• I don't know how you guys feel about being a prisoner to a caring partner who wouldn't even realize if you stopped breathing during a cuddle date
• LEMME EXPLAIN HERE
• He's got you, his beloved partner, under his arm and sharing warm, loving affection. What else could he need to relax?
• n e w s a r t i c l e s . 🗞
• He's at peace with you so he's taking the time to relax and read through things going on with the media on his phone and just generally zone out
• He's not focused on you at all like consciously
• So if you feel loved being both coddled and neglected, he's the one guys. 😭👍
• Personally I'd give him an extra 2 points for how soft his body is like? Bro? How the-?? So sadly he's the lowest ranking of the Mizo Middle boys with a (not too bad!!) 6.7/10
TAKUYA
• I swear he's so
• G A H (lovingly)
• allow me to start off by saying he's the softest and firmest motherfucker out there
• AND AND AND READER- AND READER AND READER AND READER
• HES GOT CHIPMUNK CHEEEEEKS
• if you squish them he's just gonna whine at you to knock it off 😭
• He's the perfect temperature ALWAYS
• He doesn't mind any specific cuddling forms and is just generally glad to have time to spend with you
• NEJSKWKEKSKAKKW
• He's a very sleepy guy, I personally believe he has a work-out routine he strictly sticks to in order to obtain the muscles of his dreams
• Imagine how nice they'll be to lay on when he's older omg
• but anyways 💀
• He's so great, he's just the greatest back pack or the best little body pillow to squeeze• He can't help himself from falling asleep tho, and that's like the only downside to cuddling with this guy 😭
• So I'm gonna go ahead and give him a solid 9/10 😌
AKKUN
• .....this boy-
• no forget politeness
• This BITCH AND HIS H A I R
• THE FUCKING HAIR
• HE HAS SUCH A HARD TIME TRYNA GET COMFORTABLE WITH YOU WITHOUT RUINING HIS HAIR 😭😭 IT'S BEYOND RIDICULOUS
• He is obsessed with cuddling, however
• He's a super soft huggy boy who just wants to hold ya gently while watching something together and squish your shoulders or your hips outta nowhere
• I feel like if yall cuddled and he wasn't watching or reading anything and being distracted,
• Yall would be having a 3am deep type conversation at like 7pm 😭
• like if there's no TV and no book or phone, it's just YOU 👁👁
• He's a tiny bit chilly but his skin is super soft
• He moisturizes 🤫
• You KNOW he smells like those really nice hair products you normally only get to smell fresh after a haircut yk?
• I feel like he has to readjust his feet a bit cause- sorry honey, but them feet colder than the grim reaper's grasp 😭💀
• Like yall watchin a movie and he moves to get his knee up more and get comfy at the hip• And this mfs luggy ass toes just scrape your foot• He apologies it's fine
• .....bro if you got a foot fetish tho he's gonna be disgusted by any comments you make, I hope you're aware people hate you
• like
• uhh no judgement tho??
• Anyways, considerate boy is a pretty good 7.4/10 cuddler 😌
• If yall are disappointed and think I rated him too low, no disrespect but FUCK YALL 😭 YOU DONT KNOW MY COLD ASS FEET TRAUMAS
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
And we leave off on a very odd note- but I definitely feel the mizo middle boys are high ranking cuddlers
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