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anadiasmount · 2 months

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one dare, one kiss - jude bellingham blurb.

quick sum: when a game of truth or dare goes to plan, you’re faced with mixed feelings and your best friend questioning if there was more than what you two had…

wc: 2.2k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: this was small and simple, so i finished it!! hope everyone is okay after all this jude content because i sure am not going to stop talking about it ☺️ hope you enjoy! 🤍

it felt silly. the whole concept of the game. the spinning bottle. drinks laid everywhere. people laughing or messing around. at this age you shouldn’t be playing this but after they begged you, here you were sitting as you distracted yourself from everyone.

it started as a game of truth or dare, the dares consisting of calling an ex, posting on social media, eating or take a shot of something, having to read your messages or search history, all that. or also let the curiosity win the best of people and having people to answer truthfully when they saw the dares would be extreme. such a kid but also adult game once you grew up.

what started as a game of an innocent truth or dare, gradually turned into now a mix of that and spin the bottle. everyone was up for the thrill, knowing this was for pure fun and no feelings involved. while you were up for the idea, the hesitation always held you back, forcing yourself to just go along instead of leaving.

you chatted quietly with your friends, teasing one of them since they had a crush on a boy in the group. although at the start you found the game silly, now you cheered and felt your veins anticipating with nerves, not wanting the bottle to land on you. you knew you weren’t as experienced, and the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself, especially if you picked dare.

jude couldn’t stop glancing at you, his eyes never leaving you as you enjoyed the party. was he only one who felt it? the tension? the feeling of desire to take things to the next level? to prove to you, that you didn’t need anyone else besides him? how he agreed this game was silly or couldn’t come to terms with his jealousy if he were to see you kiss someone else who wasn’t him…

jude wasn’t tipsy or drunk, but he felt like it anytime you looked or walked into a room. the ability of you to take his breath away in the smallest way possible, when you smiled, laughed, frowned, spoke, he was madly in love with you as a whole. longing to feel you next to him at all times.

jude bit the inside of his cheek, also feeling his heart race when he saw the empty casa blanco bottle slowly start to slow down. as soon as you saw it was jude’s turn, you felt your stomach turn in a displeased manner, hating the idea if you were to see him kiss any of your friends or a stranger.

you refused to look up, looking down at your nails and biting the inside of your lip as you waiting for the bottle to land on whoever it would. you felt it go slower than usually, testing your limits and patience because it was taking forever.

small gasps and yelps of cheers made you look up, jude staring at you with his lips slight agape. you looked around before looking down at the bottle facing directly at you. the game was childish, but you couldn’t deny the small young school girl in you getting excited over a silly game and getting picked.

“truth or dare jude?” your friend who you’d been teasing the whole night asked him knowing you wouldn’t be able to speak. you watched as he clenched his jaw before answering. “dare,” he spoke lowly but voice full of confidence, you bit your tongue, knowing he would either do the dare or face the consequences.

“for our sakes and yours, we’re daring you to kiss our lovely y/n right here,” she gently shook your shoulders, you send daggers to her, eyes wide as you wanted to shut the idea letting the nerves take over your system. “oh cmon, it’s that or telling everyone what you were saying last night when you were drunk,” she had a playful look on her face, jude shaking his head immediately at the thought.

jude tended to yap a lot when the was alcohol in his system, and last night wasn’t any different except he wouldn’t stop talking about you. how much he loved you, how pretty and kind you were, how you were the only one for him and never judged him, how much he loved your baking or when you wore his hoodies. you and no idea about this, so it raised a question in your head at what they were referring to.

“what are y’all talking about?”

“nothing!” jude was quick to dismiss his cheeks flushing with shyness and embarrassment. you raised a brow, but shook your head, knowing it was probably something boyish. jude somehow got closer to you, now on his knees as his eyes bore with yours. jude could see your pupils dilated, your lips tainted with a colored coat, your nose piercing blinging in the light as he leaned over you.

you cleared your throat, looking around unsure at every on their feet awaiting your next moves. jude leaned his head down, “it’s okay angel… one kiss and we can move onto the next dare,” he said only to you. part of you asked “what if” one kiss wouldn’t be enough for you, another asking if it was a good idea.

all you could do was nod instead of responding, almost being able to hear the squeal coming from your friend besides you. you let out a small breath as jude made the first move and placed his hand around your waist, your thumbs stroked his cheek almost losing your breath. you felt his warm finger tilt your face up to his, his thumb releasing your bottom lip that was stuck between your lips.

your mind raced with thoughts, he was finally going to kiss you, this was gonna happen and no one wanted to stop it. jude closed the last bit of space, his right hand resting just below your pulse as he captured your lips with his. you fell in love with how soft they felt, wanting to cringe at the aftertaste of beer on his lips but instead you found it sweet and pleasant.

this is what you were afraid of, of jude pulling away when you craved and wanted more of him. having waited and dreaming about the moment since forever, or more specifically after slow dancing at a school dance. jude on the other hand had to hold back the groan that wanted to escape his lips, his hand slightly tightened along your pulse point and throat.

it started off small and bare, now turning into a full makeout. his tongue tracing your lips before fully dominating your mouth, his hand now fully wrapped and secured on your waist, as he felt your tongue also trace his in a heated manner. he swallowed a small whimper from you, feeling your hands come to his face and push him away gently after kissing for a while.

you felt hot, every cell on fire, hair on your arms raised despite it all. with one simple kiss he already tortured your head into wanting more than just one. “we said a kiss jude, not a full makeup session… nice to know how you feel though,” your friend winked at you, watching how you sat slowly. your lips feeling sore, and now tainted with him.

it was all you could think about, how he tasted, how we kissed you like a devotion, how he held you, how you knew he didn’t want to pull away at all. the group decided to get more drinks before starting another round. you had gone into the house, making your drink to calm the pit in your stomach. was it possible for the aftermath to be this strong?

from jude:

where are you??

i thought you were with your friends?

to jude:

i’m in the kitchen! in the main house

from jude:

omw, i need to talk to you about something.

you avoided his eyes as he walked into the dark and empty kitchen, only strays from the moonlight decorating the marble tiles floors. your heart raced faster at his footsteps approaching you. he caged you in, hands on either side of you as he forced you to look up at him. “are you okay darling?” he spoke in a hush tone, making you shiver.

“yeah i-i-am good, just getting a drink, you? are you okay?”

“that was something, wasn’t it?” he asked, wanting to talk about what happened. to him it stopped being a game as soon as they dared him to kiss you. to jude, this was your official first kiss and he wanted to pour his heart right here and then. “the game? yeah, yeah it was? they’re probably regret some of the stuff they did tomorrow…”

jude frowned upon hearing you say regret. we’re you regretting kissing him? the kiss that was forever engraved in his head now? how could you possibly say that when you almost begged for more on the spot? “regret? do you regret what happened? our kiss?” jude was afraid of your answer, especially once you began to move around.

a moment of silence passed, shaking your head no. “no i don’t regret it… not one bit which should seem like an issue,” you laughed scratching your temple. “why would it seem like an issue? hmm?” jude cocked his head to the side, looking at you endearingly. he could see you, but you couldn’t pull back as your eyes traced his veins that roamed his skin.

“well we’re best friends? best friends don’t kiss.”

“are we just that though, y/n?” jude tested the waters, his hand sneaking around your waist once again. the familiar heat arose in your body again, “jude we shouldn’t. they’re waiting for us-”

“answer the question y/n. they haven’t even noticed we’re gone and i don’t think they’ll come looking for anytime soon,” jude reassured you. “i don’t know okay? i don’t know jude! this whole situation it’s making me feel and question things!” you try to escape but he impossibly pulls you closer to him. chest to chest.

“shh baby… it’s okay… just me and you here like i said. you’re scared and that’s okay but i promise you once we’re done, it will be worth it,” jude said, making you weak in the knees resisting the urge to kiss his pretty face. “so tell me. are we just friends?”

“no we’re not. because friends don’t just kiss and feel stuff. they don’t practically live together, moving miles away from their home to be with them. friends don’t sleep and cuddle in the same bed at night. friends don’t hold onto hope and love one day they’re going to see how you feel for them…”

“you’re my every thought, when i wake up, go to bed, when i hear the stupid craig david song, your name. it’s impossible at this point because you’re everywhere. i tried to tell myself maybe because we were attached but jude i cant take it anymore, i feel like im going to explode,” you continued.

“me either y/n… believe me… all i could think about how it felt right. like we are right now. how perfect it feels for you or me to be in each others arms. how when we’re together the only thought and feeling i have is pure happiness and security. i want that with you. i want to prove to you it’s me and you. it’s always been like that. y/n and jude…” you giggled at his last reference, tucking your head into his chest.

“just so you know and we’re on the same page, i want to be more than your best friend, i wanna be your boyfriend and maybe your husband one day… i just love you so much y/n, you have no idea,” jude confessed eyebrows slightly twinging as spoke, leaning down to sit you on the counter, still caging you.

“and i hope you know judey,” you smile as you said his nickname jude shyly looking away, “i’m just as madly in love with you… have been since the first time we met. can you believe it? all these years and it took a simple truth or dare to confess our feelings?” you ask in bewilderment, hand stroking his jaw as you pulled him closer to you.

“i really want to kiss you right now,” jude said along your lips, making your tummy flutter with eagerness to feel him pressed on you. “then do it. we’re not playing anymore-” you were quickly shut up, jude bring you close to his ad his hand rested along the nape of your neck. the room was hot, your legs tightly wrapped along his hips as he continued to devour you as a whole.

the night was just starting for the both of you, your friends long gone. just now the two of you relishing the intimacy together in his room. the pants, groans, moans, all causing you to feel dizzy and incoherent. jude not far behind as he was more in love with you. it wasn’t just sex because you felt the need or have to, his thrusts and rolls of hips proving it was love making and gloat over the closeness of your bodies sunk together.

you wouldn’t have had it another way, feeling thankful for the stupid silly game of truth of dare.

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

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fredwkong · 8 months

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Virgo Season: Harold

There was no way in hell that Harold was going to do his presentations on the lawn. This conference was supposed to be prestigious, and all that he had seen so far was every so-called “real man” in the Astra Hotel running in terror from a group of deviants.

Harold had been a police officer in Detroit for decades, and even retired he knew he cut an imposing figure. Where the inimitable Pastor Blanco had failed, Harold had succeeded, forcing the staff to clean up the conference hall in the early hours of the morning, after the nightly freak party ended. The day’s discussions and meetings had been held in their rightful place again, and now it was Harold’s turn.

If only he could get the damn projector working properly.

While Harold had been on the force, everything had been microfilm and slides, even into the 2000s. The Astra’s conference hall contained such newfangled gadgets as an “HDMI port,” an “audio jack,” and the horrifically misnamed “Smart Board” that Harold had no hope of interacting with. Harold had been expecting that some of the young professionals attending the conference would be able to help him with setting up.

Alas, all the young cowards seemed to have fled the conference over the last few weeks, and so Harold had spent 15 minutes struggling with the technology before he turned to Blanco, his face purple with rage. “Get… me… the concierge,” Harold gritted out.

Blanco seemed about to protest at being ordered around like one of his lackeys, but then clearly thought better of it. Without a word, he fled the hall.

The door closed with an echoing bang. Without meaning to, Harold jumped as if he had been touched by a small electric shock. The small audience—not more than twenty, and yet more than half the people still at the conference—all jumped too.

Harold turned back to the podium where the mess of wires surrounded his ancient brick of a laptop, only to see that one cable was neatly plugged into a port on his device. Behind him, the large screen flickered to life, displaying his desktop background.

“Ah, that’s fine then,” Harold said gruffly. “Let’s begin, we’re behind enough as it is.” He launched PowerPoint exactly as the man at the tech support desk had shown him once and began the slideshow.

The screen went black, then flashed bright before the first slide came up. Harold could have sworn it had shown a picture of a smooth-skinned man in a rubber bodysuit, lying at the foot of someone in high heels. But there was no such image on his device, so he must have imagined it.

“The police and their policies are an important part of America and make ordinary life possible,” Harold began, following the notes he had written in his notebook. He went through the first few slides, on the glorious history of the American police force and how essential they were to the protection of real Americans, like him and the other attendees.

As he did, Harold felt himself beginning to get warm in his suit. He wasn’t the type for nervous sweating, but he found himself tugging at his collar, feeling beads of sweat run down his grey, buzzed temples. After the third slide, he took a moment to take a drink of water, and saw several of the conference attendees doing the same, or fanning themselves with paper and notebooks. Maybe it had been a mistake to close the doors.

“Please pay close attention,” Harold said, clicking to the next slide.

The slide was meant to show an image of Harold during his glory days on the force. Instead, for an instant, Harold was sure the picture was of some deviant in a rubber bodysuit, long socks, aviators, and a leather cap. Like a horrible fetishistic parody of his younger self.

He blinked, horrified, and the picture he was was as it was supposed to be, a younger Harold in his perfect police uniform. Somehow, he had imagined such a horrific image. Harold coughed awkwardly. “In my time on the force, my district…” he continued, rattled.

The statistics and policy changes relevant to Harold’s presentation seemed to swim before his eyes. He was sweating like a pig in this suit. It felt like there was something under the cotton and silk, something pliant and sticky against his skin. The audience seemed to be moving uncomfortably. Some were tugging on their dress shirts, trying to force air into the humid interiors.

Harold continued reading his notes. “Police put great attention on stepping on—I mean, stamping out—less desirable elements in the city,” he said, stumbling over his words. “Employee satisfaction reached an all time high when police were given free rein to fu—no, that’s pluck—potential criminals from their hiding places preemptively.” Why had he written that word?

But the idea was somehow enticing. That would have changed things in Detroit, Harold thought, as he kept on reading and clicking through slides. Walking into a raid lubed up and hard in a rubber—rubber? Yes, rubber—jockstrap, fucking sense into those deviant criminals’ asses… He tried to resist getting hard in his dress pants.

When he clicked to the next slide, it showed an example of exactly the kind of criminal Harold was thinking of. Tight rubber pants, his chest bare, giving fuck-me eyes to the camera.

“The criminal element—” Harold’s voice was hoarse for some reason. He coughed and continued talking about the inherent criminality of non-white men in America.

The men in the audience were leaning forward in their seats as Harold went through the next few slides. He knew that look. The attractiveness of the hedonistic lifestyle of a deviant criminal was getting to them. It was getting to him, too. He could barely remember where his discussion was leading.

No one in the hall heard the main doors stick as someone attempted to open them from the outside, but found them held fast by some force other than the lock.

The atmosphere had become close and humid. Harold could see some of the men palming their bulging groins through their pants. He wanted a taste of that. Pictures of men in rubber continued to flash on the screen, even though Harold wasn’t clicking on it to continue. Harold couldn’t tell if they were criminals or civilians anymore. Maybe they were just ordinary people. The images came faster and faster until the screen was a blur of rubber men.

Suddenly, the onslaught stopped. A video started to play. Two men, of very different skin tones, furiously kissing. Harold heard moaning from the audience as they started to imitate what they were seeing on screen.

Harold felt overwhelmingly warm, and started to unbutton his shirt. Had his hands always been so tan? As he worked, he tried to continue speaking. “In-in short, the police force… Oh god, the police force should totally fuck more, can you imagine? In uniform?” The pitch of his voice rose as his grey hair darkened to black. Graceful hands stripped away his shirt to reveal a translucent rubber tank top underneath. “Can you imagine if they put on some rubber booty shorts instead of those boring pants?” he continued.

The audience started to strip each other, following Harold’s example. The squeak of rubber on rubber sang out in harmony with smooth moans and gasps. Skin darkened and youthened everywhere as everyone let go of everything that had been holding them back for decades all at once.

Harold clicked to the next slide, knowing what was coming now. A man in boots and a rubber shirt, sniffing a black sneaker. “You gotta show your partner you appreciate all that sweat he’s been building up under his rubber!” Harold told the audience, hearing the licks and snuffles begin as men enthusiastically dove into each others’ armpits, groins, and abandoned shoes.

Hadn’t Harold had a water bottle? No, just the spare sneaker his husband had sent with him to the Astra Hotel this year. Giving the audience a moment to put his command into action, Harold gave the shoe a sniff, feeling as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders as his body tightened up into a tan, muscular physique.

He wanted to stretch out his long tongue into the shoe’s interior, but Harold knew that would spoil the musk, plus he needed to keep focussed on his presentation. Instead, he imagined giving his husband’s feet a nice tongue bath once he got home, giving his cock a squeeze through his sweat-soaked pants. Still sniffing, he wriggled out of the pants, revealing his black rubber shorts, rivulets of sweat still running down his sturdy legs.

Harold clicked to the next slide, the final moment of his presentation. A guy in a full bodysuit, his rubber toes extended to the camera. “Remember, it’s all about playing with power,” Harold called out, feeling his mouth slip around the English consonants. His mixed heritage, raised in a house where he spoke Lebanese, left him with a faint accent that came out specifically when he was horny. “You do what another man says because you trust him, and it feels so fucking good, right?”

There was a roar of assent from the crowd, drunk on their own lust. “Good boys,” Harold said firmly, and drank in the responding chorus of submissive groans. Leaving the slide up, Harold stepped down from the presenter’s dais back into the seating. He pulled his long rubber gloves back on as he went. Best to be prepared in case someone wanted to feel his arm up inside them.

One couple, a Chinese man and his little Black boy, had actually started fucking, the Black guy’s rubber pantseat unzipped so his tight ass could take his dom’s cock. An older Arabic man had his hands tied behind his back as he sat on the floor in a circle of men, all taking turns using his mouth. As he walked past, Harold tugged on the long ponytail of a Brazilian in a rubber shirt, enjoying the man’s groan as he kept bouncing on what must be a plug on the inside of his pants. They were all gonna have a good time until the non-rubber guys joined them for the night’s party.

The conference hall door burst open, and Harold turned to see some old white man standing there, surrounded by terrified hotel staff. Harold raised himself to his full height and crossed his gloved arms, showing off the bulge in his rubber shorts and the muscles in his translucent shirt. This was his place, and he was gonna protect it.

The hotel staff fled, and the old prude wasn’t far behind. Harold rolled his eyes and turned back to his fun.

Click here to see all of Virgo Season.

If you feel inspired, write a story set at the Astra Hotel and post it @ me to join in. Help me celebrate my birthday by turning more conference attendees into geared up gay kinksters.

#male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #reality change #male tf #race change #musk tf #feet kink tf #shoes tf #rubber tf #virgo season #all fwkong

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blucassiopeia · 11 months

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Dangerous

"A prelude spin-off for an upcoming fic"

warnings: afab!reader, angst with comfort but not the one you expect, bit of NSFW but nothing explicit still, be responsible of what you're reading, mentions of pregnancy, 8.3k LONG, spanish and portuguese languages (translated)

An Oikawa Tooru x reader one shot

a/n: uhmm, more clues? be wary of the details?

A new country is scary for Oikawa Tooru. Yeah, sure, this is one step closer to his dream but he has left a ginormous part of him back in Japan. His life is there. She is there. She, whom he left for his dream so hastily, a dream he chose and will always choose over anything and anyone. And he's guilty.

But she smiled and let me go, he thought as he stared into the ceiling of his new room of 2 days. He figured he wasn't much as important as someone else that it was easy for her to agree on this. Why wouldn't she? Who was he to her to hold onto anyway?

She'll be fine without me. I'm gonna be fine. Everything will be fine.

Tooru continuously convinced himself as he sorted out the last boxes onto his apartment. It's still dusty, he decided to clean up after moving his things to their places. He declined Coach Blanco's help on this, don't wanna bother him more than his bothersome favor of letting him join the Argentinean League even though he's still processing his citizenship.

He met the team he'll be playing the day before, figured they were nice and was excited about a Japanese setter on their team, a fresh talent for the upcoming league. And Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kageyama Tobio aren't here, how extravagant.

The neighborhood was nice, the people more so. It's lovely and lively, even at nights. The culture was shocking but it's to be expected. Though, he'd still prefer Miyagi's countryside air over this bustling city life in the other side of the world. His heart was there. Homesickness still hasn't settled in hard, but it will be after a punch so hard it'll wake him up for what he had left but can't go back to.

"Someone's waiting for you across your street. At a bistro of sorts? I don't know but you'll know when you see them, Kawa."

It was a week after he moved to Argentina, and here is Hajime calling him. He thought his bestfriend will be checking up on him like his first day here, he unconsciously pouted out of habit.

"Who is it?"

"Just go and face them, you shitty mess."

Dejectively, he said "I'm not shitty, Iwa-chan.", pulling out his sweatpants and sweater ready for a chilly night outside.

He wondered who was it that's waiting for him. He has wild guesses, first was of course, Hajime. And, or maybe Issei and Maki. Or maybeー

His lazy paces turned excited as he thought of her waiting for him somewhere near, somewhere he can finally reach. Did she made up her mind on the offer? But what about her life in Japan? But, is she really here? That can be possible right?

The lights were dancing on Tooru's face as he ran from bistro to bistro in his street to find her, thrill showing in his face. He didn't even notice he was grinning already, a sincere grin he didn't flash publicly for over three weeks. He was expecting to see her.

He felt his knuckles tighten as he saw them though, one smirking, standing up, and one just lounging, seriously staring back at him. He shouldn't have expected for her, he should've expected for the worst, this worst. His grin turned devilish, the usual one he flashes when he's agitated over a play, the one he erased from his face whenever he's with her.

And you saw that face shift of Tooru's, frame by frame.

You knew him. Who wouldn't? Except for the fact that he's your neighbor next door, he's the only new blood around the area and the single ladies working for your family's bistro are instantly swooning over this new foreign specimen. Messy chocolate brown hair with chocolate brown eyes to match, that panty-dropping smile and voice, his outgoing personalityーto which you're not comfortable with, you don't know whyーand his skills for volleyball. You saw him once early morning at an outdoor volleyball court just off the block and figured he might be joining the province's volleyball league club so soon.

And this face shift now was new to you, evident too for having some of the ladies having eyes on this particular scene.

The two guys that ordered nothing but a tall glass of iced tea and fries has been at the same spot in the bistro for roughly three hours, speaking in a foreign language you know is Japanese, considering you heard Tooru once talking over the phone. You assumed that they're here for him, and you were right. But not this kind of right. You slowly detached yourself from behind the counter, taking off your apron.

And Tooru has just his eyes on the man standing and smirking at him. It has been over a year since Tooru last saw him, after he made an honest mistakeーwell, it's not really this man's mistake but Tooru thinks he had been toying with her feelings, one he really disliked of him up to this day. And of how the way the man is smirking at him right now, Tooru knows it's his turn to be misunderstood.

"It's been a while, man. 'Sup?" Tooru said so casually, walking up to their table at the side of the bistro.

The man scratched his brows and looked down, but Tooru knows he's seething. He smirked before hearing a "Yeah, it's been a while Tooru."

And Tooru felt it in his cheek, on his hip clashing to one of the empty table beside him, hard. This man has been playing volleyball for as long as him, it's not to doubt that he can throw a punch this hard too as much as he could spike, he can taste something metallic inside his cheeks, a sting on his lip. But Tooru just scoffed and grinned as usual, retaining his balance and stood face to face with him, dangerously close.

"HEY!"

If Tooru heard you, he didn't react, raging eyes focused on the man infront of him. But the other man seated between them turned his head to you, gray eyes dead contrasting the boyish grin he flashed and said, "Sorry. This is how we greet each other in our place. Don't call the cops. They will talk with each other nowー" and he turned to the two with a cold voice, "ーin a civilized manner, right?"

The man who punched Tooru groaned at what the gray-eyed man said and heeded, sat, pointed the seat in front of him, gesturing Tooru to sit there. That was when Tooru caught your eyes, deadpan and emotionless. He sighed, wiping blood off his mouth, seethed at the sting off his lip and sat down in front of his two visitors.

You walked back to your kitchen and got ice cubes, almost on instinct on your part. You came back out to their table with a glass of water and the ice cubes.

"Estás bien, Tooru?" But Tooru just shot his brows up without looking up and ran his fingers on the cold feeling of the compression sack of ice cubes.

Tooru's mind was hazy from the avalanche of presence in front of him and for the possible reasons why they are here, why they spared time and money to just deliver a punch from across the globe. He felt your eyes linger a bit more before sighing and leave. One thing was clear in his mind that moment, though. He wished someone to drag him out of that place.

"Why are you both here?"

"To ask you why THE FUCK d'you leave her like that."

He expected that question, and he knew the answer too well. It's just dumb to ask that to him, and the one who asked is just too dumb to ask without knowing himself that he's the answer. Tooru can't help but smirk. The slight scrunch on his lips sent miniscule shots of pain from the punch earlier.

Tooru can't believe they travelled to where he is just to ask that, personally. Well, maybe it was the punch that motivated them. And Tooru needed that, too, given what he had left.

"Can't believe you picked volleyball over her! AND you promised me! YOU PROMISED ME TOORU! FUCK!" Together with the raise of his voice, the table wobbled at his smacks on it, earning a groan from the other next to him, reflexively lifting the glasses of iced teas off the table in time.

"Hey! Not the iced teas! I'm gonna kick you!"

Tooru dead-stared at the man glaring at him and he flashed his evil grin at him, super annoyed of his cluelessness of the situation.

"You think if I picked her, she'll also pick me? No. She'll still pick you over anyone else." He stopped grinning, still dead staring, his following words are on a lower octave, menacing. "And you fucking know that."

"I love her and fuck, I want her to be happy even if you can't believe it. And if she's gonna be happy with you, thenー" Tooru spread his arms wide, his expression changing to melancholic. "ーI'm gonna welcome that fact with open arms."

The other man scoffed at his seat, still eating the fries he ordered. "You don't destroy the people you love, Tooru." The other man side-eyed the man beside him. "That goes for you, too."

"But you promised me." It was a mumble now, taking Tooru back 4 months ago when this man in front of him purposely meet and talked with him about Ran. "You promised to be with her until I come back."

"Not all people can take it. If this person right here with you can take it, I can't. There's just so much pain I can take if it's her."

"She's pregnant."

Tooru's eyes were slow to meet the man's eyes, his expression looked like he got pulled down a few meters more than it sank before. It was for a moment, but you saw it from the counter. Your eyes flickered curiosity and worry.

Tooru smiled sincerely to the men's surprise. "Then, go home. Be with her. She needs you. And congratulations.. on being a dad."

The man who Tooru declared a dad suddenly stood up, knocking his chair back, grabbed Tooru's collar with him and close to him, stared into his sad eyes. The man beside them groaned, but not at the collar-grabbing scene now but on what Tooru said.

"Fuck. You." The man sincerely spouted those words to Tooru's now smirking face. "FUCK YOU!"

But Tooru ignored him and turned to the man who's drinking his glass of iced tea from the tension. "'Samu, don't waste time. He had already wasted so much of it. Drag him back to Ran."

And he thankfully got a nice response as Osamu stood up and slap the man's hands off of Tooru's collar, "Let's go back to Japan."

"OSAMUー"

"I KNOW! I FUCKING KNOW! BUT I HAVE ALREADY TOLERATED YOU TOO FUCKING LONG! NOW DROP TOORU OFF!" Osamu breathed heavy, staring back at the still-aggravated man. The tension of the bistro has risen up and the dining locals are all-eyes to the scene in front of them. "Please. I don't want Ran to kill me if you get jailed from across the world. C'mon. You heard from Tooru already."

The man dropped Tooru's collar that slumped Tooru back to his seat as his knees buckled for some reason he clearly knew. He just stared straight ahead, off nowhere, muffled conversations he can't make up but he heard the man clearly said before leaving.

"Stay away from Ran. You left her, right? Then stay there and watch as I make her the happiest woman alive."

Those words crumbled his world, made him double guess his choice. He was so sure of this when he told Ran, even invited her to go with him even if he knew it's a shot to the moon. He was so sure because this is his life-long dream. But now..

You saw him still staring blankly to open space, not moving. Your ladies have sympathetic looks for him and asking if he's ever okay, can't they see that he isn't?

You were about to approach him after a good 30 minutes of no-nothing from Tooru when he suddenly stood up, "Lo siento por eso, Y/n." and went straight out of the bistro looking so sullen, without even looking at you, or anyone.

And that was just the start of your weird attraction to him.

You found yourself knocking on his door one early night off from the bistro, with a container full of pasta to share to him. You already distributed the good half of what's left to your other neighbors and you purposely left him last, coz maybe you'd want to check up on him too.

It has been a week since his encounter in the bistro, a week since you noticed him ever going out of his apartment. Your mama was quite worried for the young man after you told her what happened, urging you to talk to him being the only one around his age in the apartment building.

And alas! You're here. You fidgeted with your toes curling and relaxing, tapping the pads against your rubbery surface of your slippers. Why's he not answering? He not dead, right? He better not be. You knocked again, three loud knocks just to be sure.

You were about to do a set of knocks again when the door swung open, revealing a topless Tooru, emotionless eyes drooping and bloodshot, hair all over the place, his sweatpants hang low on his hips revealing the garter part of his boxers underneath. You revel in the way he stared at you as he leans on his door jamb, waiting for you to say something. That was when you realize that you're already rudely staring.

He cocked a brow that elicited your voice. "Pasta?"

He hummed and opened the door wider, an invitation for you to come in his apartment, and you took a step in. Later on, you'd regret ever stepping into his life too.

Your eyes swept through his place. It's messy, like he threw things all over the place. A broken picture frame with glasses all over them, a broken drinking glass too just off the counter, the mirror off the corner is cracked in the middle with blood in it, throw pillows scattered in his sala, and a picture frame on the carpet near the couch.

Glass plates clanked at one another as Tooru got one for the pasta and you noticed his knuckle that got dried blood on it as he placed the plate in front of you on the table. It was silent, except for the water dripping from his kitchen sink and of his hoarse breathing.

"Close the door when you leave. Gracias."

That was out from his cold voice, uncharacteristic from the outgoing Tooru that you knew. Your eyes trained at him as he lazily walked back to his couch and sprawled like nothing happened, fingers caressing the picture frame below.

You took a deep breath as you transferred the pasta to his plate and slid it inside his fridge. You took more deep breaths as you searched for his broom and fixed the mess around his apartment. He didn't utter a word, might've not heard of you as he has his eyes closed, a tear pending on the side of his eye. Asleep? That fast?

Your lips formed a thin line as you pursed them, padding quietly close to him to watch his chest heave as he breathes. Your eyes travelled to his arm draping down the couch and to his fingers touching the glass of the picture frameーof a beaming golden haired girl with him, also beaming and ruffling the girl's hair.

You bend over to pick it up, a hand reaching over the frame, but your soul flew out of your body when suddenly, Tooru's hand gripped your wrist so hard you winced. Your head whipped to the fully-awake Tooru, burning eyes on you. Your soul wanted to flee right then and there but you were frozen, enthralled by the hidden emotion on that raging brown eyes.

"I'm sure it's not in your culture to touch the things you don't own without the owner's consent." The grip on your wrist tighten more when you didn't answer seconds later.

"Lo siento, Tooru. Just wanna fix your apartment for you."

Tooru just hummed and picked the frame with the hand he used to grip your wrist, hugged it against his bare chest, back to closing his eyes. "Gracias. Close the door."

Rubbing the sting on your wrist, you made way for his door yet your hand lingered on the knob. You sighed, head craning up, contemplating if you should say it or not, or how would he respond or not, but there's nothing wrong in asking it right?

"Tooruー" Yep, you can't. "ーMama's having a welcome party for you on the weekend."

Tooru just hummed and a silence so deafening followed. Your eyes flew to the faucet of his kitchen sink and glared at it for being so traitorous.

"You come over, 'kay? You can bring anyone, e-even your team."

Silence again. You bit your lip and sighed. Okay, that's it for now, Y/n. That's it for now.

And you were glad you did ask him that night because when Saturday night came, he did show up with his team, Club Atletico San Juan. What you didn't expect was his composure. Tooru's back to being outgoing and has a friendly aura around him, he even smiled at you and your parents, thanking you for the party.

You were left confused all night, stealing glances on him as he laughs and converse with his team and some of the locals. He even caught you once, but he just smiled and raised his beer mug, and went back talking.

Now you know why you're uncomfortable with this kind of personality of Tooru's. You have already seen the surface of his other side.

You were deemed observant even before Tooru appeared, and this right here was spot on. You scrunched your nose and shook your head, shaking the thoughts off your mind. You knew you shouldn't be attached to this kind of man. He's dangerousーbut interesting. You caught yourself groaning, you wanna dump your head straight to a bucket of cold water.

"Y/n, Tooru's table."

Your mama pushed a tray with two buckets of beers and you heaved it up to take it to Tooru's table. He saw you coming and stood up to help you. You smiled at him and offered your gratitude but he surprised you when he held your hand and guided you to seatーon his lap. Jeers erupted the table,and of the place.

"You don't mind, Señor? Señora?"

He called out to your parents, your eyes flickering to your mama in the counter and papa just off a few tables, drinking with his pals, both just shook their heads in approval, tolerant to the newcomer. You attempted to stand up but he snaked an arm around your waist to ground you. His stern eyes flickered to you for a second before beaming his usual smile.

He handed a bottle to you, "Drink?" The smell of alcohol wafted across your face from Tooru's mouth. You stared at his now dancing chocolate eyes, red shade on his neck and cheeks up to his ears. You thought he's drunk already, how much did he drink anyway?

You sighed and took the bottle he offered, drank from it. You felt weird being this close with a stranger. Well, not totally a stranger, you had known him for roughly two weeks now. But stillー

You took notice of how his hand was caressing your thighs as he talks with his team as the night went on with you still on his lap, his hand on your waist creating gentle strokes that made your head fuzzy, added the alcohol in your system. That's when you decided to stop drinking. And Tooru took notice of that. He leaned back on his chair and guided your head to lean on his shoulder.

Shutting your eyes won't do the trick, you still felt eyes staring at you as you let him do what he wants. Fuck tolerance. Fuck.

"You're not comfortable?" He mumbled low, enough that you're the only one to hear. You sneered at him.

"Is this a payback for what I did in your apartment?"

"Not quite, cariño." You instantly blushed at the unexpected endearment, stomping at his feet to which he grinned momentarily and sighed thereafter, "Stay here with me for a while, por favor."

And you didn't know how the tone of his voice enchanted you to agreeing on staying at his lap, found yourself nuzzling on his neck a moment later to which he sighed and caressed your hair as he felt your breath on his neck. And you should find a right answer to the flooding questions from people later on. Right now, his proximity first. He needs you, and you understand him somehow. The questions can wait.

"Her name is Ran, Y/n."

Tooru slurred as he rolled over his bed after being dropped by his teammates back to his apartment. You got a warm towel at hand, done with wiping his body off of sweat and alcohol, fresh clothes that his teammates change him into. He's facing you right now, enjoying in the way your hands ran through his brown locks.

"She'sーI love her, so much. But the man you saw punched me? That was his boyfriend." He closed his eyes and smiled, tears were rolling down to his pillowcase and you looked at him solemnly.

"They're complicated, and I got in the way and now, got swooped out of the pictureー" He heaved a hard sigh, you taking notice of the toll it cost on Tooru. "ーlike how it was meant to be all along. I knew it would happen. I knew it will, butー" He opened his eyes, stared straight, not meeting your eyes, "ーI never knew it'll hurt this much. This is what I get from getting in between."

You cupped his face. "But, 'ñorito, there's nothing wrong with loving her. I think you're brave to still express your feelings even if she loves someone else."

"You don't destroy the people you love."

That line got stuck with you as the days went by.

Tooru got moving again, taking jogs so early in the morning you see him go as you're drinking your cup of coffee, blanket around you in your little balcony facing the street. And he got more friendly, the little kids try to imitate him but Tooru's pace is just much for them. And the ladies, oh the ladies, you can't help but palm your face and grin as he winks at them as he passes by, making the ladies squeal and giggle so early in the morning.

"He's drunk, and I was dizzy. That's all."

You have repeated that monotonous answer to all who asked about that Saturday night with Tooru. It was exhausting but still thankful that Tooru lets you answer the way you wantedーwell, there's nothing to change, it is what it is.

But your mama knew better.

"It's okay to get attracted, I'll understand, but guard your heart hija, mi amor."

You took deep breaths as you were assigned to bring Tooru's dinner to his table. He does this every night if he finish practice early. He takes dinner in the bistro in just a white shirt and gym shorts. But why does he looks more good like this? Is it the dried sweat lingering in his hairline? Or the way his face towel hangs on his shoulder? Or just his glittering chocolate orbs dancing to the bistro lights?

"Gracias."

You were about to turn back to the counter, wiping your hands on your apron as you intended to go. But you were pulled back by your elbow, hearing a squeal from your kitchen. Oh great. You smiled at the owner of the hand that's also beaming at you and offering half of his clubhouse sandwich.

"Eat with me?"

And it's always like this, him, inviting you to random activities like this. Eating dinner with him, dragging you to jog with him early in the morning, dragging you to his practice if you're off in the bistro, begging you to teach him how to cook Argentinean cuisines, stroll with him in the park when it's his turn for a dayoff, movie nights, movie nights, movie nights.

You don't know if it's sympathy for him being alone in a foreign country, heartbroken and still mending, while reaching for his goals or it's just yourself, fully attracted to him. You don't even know when and how did it started, you just find yourself one morning thinking what will he do to get your attention, or what favors will he be asking again. He eased in your life so easily with progressing favors and it's still barely a month.

"Mama! Borrowing Y/n for tonight!"

It just took a month to arrive to this night, the night that will change everything in you. You kept asking how the hell were you so easy to get for Tooru but it took the others over a year to get you. Thoughts swarming your head as he stared at you, him having laid his head on your lap looking up at you after you said something like, "Someone out there likes you Tooru, you're enjoyable to be with, no dull moments. You're hella attractive, take a hint from the ladies on the streets as you jog by. You might have some red flags but I believe you can work with that. AndーTooru, you're boyfriend material."

He got up, had his back against your thigh, a hand on the couch on your back caging you, and even if you're both seated, he's still looking slightly down at you. And he's dangerously close, you can't deny if he'll ever say he can hear your heart pound harder.

"Can I kiss you for that?"

You can feel the enchantment in his voice again, with an intense stare to match. You have to pause and think for a second. He's in a heartbroken state, and can easily be swayed with sweet words, thirsty for comfort. And you're the closest to get it from, as for now. You might be left behind, hell he might just forget this favor in the morning. He can be playing with you, teasing youーbut being aware of that annoying attraction you have for him, you fucking nodded, eye closed and anticipating.

You felt his hands ghosting on your face, keeping some strands away, caressing your cheek with a finger before cupping it with the delicate touch of his calloused hands. Then you can feel his breath fanning across your face, you sucked your breath from the closeness, your nails digging to your palm, and you heard him chuckle.

"Relax. Won't eat you."

You smirked, still with your eyes closed. "What a lie."

Then you felt it, his fluttering lips pressed onto yours ever so gently you felt it barely touched, brushed might be a good term before he pressed it firmly, and another one, and another until you can't take the teasing and your hands flew to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to kiss him back. Your eyes fluttered open when you pulled back, meeting his eyes full of shock and curiosity and amusement and you just rolled your eyes on him, rubbing a thumb on his skin.

His face is breaking a breathy smile when he felt your awkwardness from the way your arms loosened in his neck. "Can I touch you?"

You instantly felt fire in your cheeks, swallowed a lump on your throat and Tooru sees how your reactions danced in your face, frame by frame. And he is amused by it, much more when you nodded.

He smiled at you before going for a deep kiss, poking his tongue onto your lips for entry, and you granted him access, running your hands on his hair slightly tugging. You can't help but moan at how his tongue flicks against yours, and how his hands wander on your thighs, rubbing so sensually. Then you yelped when he lifted you up to his lap, straddling him and capturing your lips again.

Tooru's hands travelled up your skirt, gripping your ass and smirked through your kiss, realizing you just wore your thong. You pulled away enough to mutter a "Shut up, Tooru." And you smashed your lips back to his, hungrily kissing him and groaning the constant teasing of his fingers in your underwear's garter.

"Can I do more?" He asked after a few good minutes of kissing and groping, his breath heavy, eyes hazy with lust. "Fuck. Please, let me do more."

You tilted your head, mocking him and you laughed when he groaned and buried his head on your chest. You're no better, you can feel wetness from between your thighs and it's just a matter of time before he notices that, and he will still tease you no matter what so you lowered your hips, lining your wetness to his hard-on and started grinding, earning an animalistic groan from him.

"Fucking shit. You're wet already, mi amor. Lo sienーfuck."

You moaned as he tightened his grip on your waist, guiding it down and faster. "I'm gonna ravish you, okay?"

He didn't waited for your answer as he captured your gaping mouth and swallowed your moans. You can feel his finger swiped through your wetness before lifting you up to his room and down to his soft mattress. And even if this is the first time seeing him above you like this, you know you can't get enough of this sight. It's so captivating, swallowing your thoughts whole, ignoring the danger alerts from your system. You won't have this any other way.

Tooru woke up to a soft grip around his waist, a comfortable weight on his draped arm. Thoughts from the previous night came reeling and he sighed, pulling you closer by your head and kissed your hair to which you hummed and nuzzled your head to his neck.

He stared at the ceiling, remembering the conversation that led you to his bed. His face soured as he reached for his phone. It was muted the whole day yesterday for some reason he can't stomach but the curiosity is killing him now.

☆ VOLLEYBALL IDIOTS ー MAIN ☆

JZJ | Runa

Aaahh, sorry Ran! I can't! Just share more pictures pleasee!

JZJ | Yuuji

HAH! NO!

DON'T!

JZJ | Runa

Booger!

ITC | Yoomi

Stop being a bully for once.

STZ | Kenjiro

Please send pictures.

CRW | Kei

Tsk. @Rintaro Suna

CAT | Kai

Ran said you have to give two gifts if you didn't attend even the reception, LOL.

DT | Kenji

I'm attending the reception! Fuck!

@Mai Nametsu PM

SJ | Hajime

I have proxies there.

SJ | Maki

who? 😏

SJ | Issei

WHO? 👀

SJ | Hajime

🌵

FOX | Rintaro

*sent 12 pictures*

Tooru Oikawa left the group

FOX | Samu

LMAO

Osamu Miya added Tooru Oikawa to the group

@RAN'S PLUSHIE he's escaping

RAN'S PLUSHIE

LOL

@Tooru Oikawa as promised

*sent 1 picture*

SJ | Tooru

👍

CRW | Hisashi

Awkward....

CRW | Tobio

@RAN'S PLUSHIE don't use your phone while at your own reception

TOBIO'S Y/N

Oh.

RAN'S PLUSHIE

Heyyy! I'm sorry! But are y'all enjoying??

Tooru discarded his phone to his nightstand, the pictures sent embedded in his mind too late. All he could do was card your locks, closing his eyes, prohibiting any tears to fall from his eyes.

He has to accept it. He did this to himself. Now he has to face it. And begrudgingly dragging you to the mess that he is. He'll regret this, but what's there to mess more in his life?

His phone kept ringing and buzzing as the days went by. He's back to his usual routine, morning jogs, day to afternoon practices and nights with you. As you moan in his ears as you came the fourth time a month after your first hook up with him, he can't shake the thought that why is it so hard to detach himself from Ran and make space for you in his heart other than this heated relationship you have with him.

You're kind, and thoughtful, you understand him, saw his darkest parts, and you're gorgeous. He kept throwing glances to those men who checks you out when you're out jogging with him, even some of his teammates are checking you out he glared at them once. He's.. protective of you. All he knows is he wants you near him, like this. You somehow provide comfort in his messy world, a pillow to hug through his lonely life. And he has to somehow repay you, other than being a fuckbuddy.

So, he started cooking for you when he comes back to his apartment from practice, helping in the bistro on his days off, giving you random sunflowers picked from the park you had to smack his arm everytime through your blush. He's not oblivious to your budding feelings, and he'll be damned he knows it, unable to reciprocate it.

"Where are we going?"

He huffed as he cruised through the road out of the city, bags for a week packed on the back seat.

"The team's got a friendly match in Mar del Plata, can't leave you behind." He side eyed you and smiled, his features in the sunrise looked so dazzling as always.

And you were debating with your heart again, continuously asking what kind of relationship is this. You never dared opening up the topic, afraid that opening it up would instantly end whatever this is. And you're sure you're not ready for it to happen.

Your train of thoughts were halted when he hummed, "Y/n, just wanna let you know I'm in the roster already, training to be their starter setter. If I acquire my citizenship within three months, I can join the leagues in November."

You grinned at him, a leg propped on your seat as you turn your body to face him. "I knew you could do it, Tooru. Tan orgulloso de ti."

Tooru's hand reached for your thigh and squeezed it, nonverbally thanking you for the support. And it stayed there for hours, through the talks about his life in Japan and about his friends, until you fell asleep through the drive. And you shall know though, many years from now, that it's the most peaceful drive Tooru had in his life, with you just slumbering away while he drove across the country.

Nothing much to do in Mar del Plata other than being in their practices and on the actual match later that week, professional volleyball player Oikawa Tooru on full display. When in court, you can see his glow, brighter than how the sunshine reflects on his face every morning when he cuddles you after a steamy fuck the night before. Of course, this is his life-goal, and you're just his.. go-to.

You can't help but be sullen whenever the thought hit you. And more so that night out after the game with the other team.

The other team, you discovered, were on friendly terms with Tooru's team for years and both of you are new to them so basically, you're the center of attention tonight.

"Tooru, si? How's CA San Juan?"

"They're exceptional."

"Have you been always a setter?"

"Yes, since middle school."

"Why Argentinean League?"

Evading conflicts. "Wanna go against certain players in the future as national players."

You leaned your head at his shoulder as he offered that white lie to them, fiddling with your phone. The teams jeered at how Tooru answered it and encouraged him more on being a national player. You smiled, but dropped almost immediately when the captain of the other team raised the question.

"Who is she? Your girlfriend?"

Tooru turned his head to you, peeked through your lashes and you smiled, "No." You leaned away from him almost immediately as you answered. And Tooru stared at you at the rest of the night, silent, even through the drive home the day after.

There was nothing wrong with how you answered the question, right? You're just stating facts. You're not clearly his girlfriend, because clearly he's not yet over Ran, his love of his life. You peeled your eyes from his pheripherals. You can't let Tooru see how your eyes saddened.

And sadness and nausea pulled you to sleep.

"ーIwa-chan. She's.. I don't knowー"

"You're clearly making her a rebound, Shittykawa."

"No."

"Don't confuse yourself. Don't hurt her in expense of your comfort."

"I'm not, Hajime, IーI can drop everything I worked hard, for her, to stay with her."

"ARE YOU NUTS!?"

"Nー"

"THAT'S THE GOAL OF YOUR LIFETIME, SINCE PRIMARY AND YOU'RE GONNA DROP IT!?"

"Tone down. She might hear you, she's just sleeping."

"What the fuck, YOU'RE CRAZY!"

"I can'tーHajime, not her. Not again."

"YOU'RE JUST SEEING TSUKISHIMA RAN IN HER!"

"Tsk. If you can't drop your tone down, I'm ending the call."

"THEN END IT I DON'T WANNA TALK TO YOU! YOU'RE FRUSTRATING! THAT'S OUR GOAL AND YOU'RE JUST GONNAー"

You heard him huff, clearly frustrated of his bestfriend and you noticed he sped up to the last stretch to town. He didn't notice you were awake, good, because you don't know how to react to that conversation.

Your attention was on your belly and a tear escaped from your eyes. You swallowed hard as you waited patiently to be on the confines of your home.

Tooru barged in your room on a weekend after the Mar del Plata trip, catching you barfing on your bathroom sink. "Bad pasta." You had said to reassure him, smiling over your shoulder. He rubbed your back after he had gone to get you a glass of water.

You had to inform him of your college plans out of the country. You knew it was sudden, but you needed this. And maybe now's the best time, considering he might've seen the luggages all around your room.

"Tooru." You called his attention while wiping your face. Damn, bad pasta. "I'll be going to Rio de Janeiro for college in the fall." No brakes, just go straight ahead, Y/n. If you get caught up, it'll destroy you both.

And you had to veer your eyes away from his, offering a smile you don't know if it's sincere or no.

"Y/n?"

"I have been planning this even before you came." Go on, Y/n.

"Can I come with you?"

You shook your head, smile still plastered at your face as you turn to him. "No, Tooru. You'll be getting your citizenship soon and the team needs their fresh setter."

"How about your parents?"

"They'll be staying in the country, but they're going back to Rio Gallegos."

His eyes went wild, searching for something in your eyes. Is it panic that you're seeing? You suddenly felt bad. You just wanted to be in his room, in his arms, like last week, like the weeks, months before that.

"The bistro?"

"Will be turned over to Tiá Carmellita."

"Y/n, you're leaving me."

Osamu's was the name right? words that night in the bistro slammed to you like a trailer truck. You took Tooru's hand and kissed it. "I'll be back before you know it. First, you have to make your dreams come true here, in San Juan, okay?"

Tooru's head was swimming on a pool of oil or tar where he can't get out of. Seeing you packing, the thoughts of you leaving is plaguing him like locusts. And he can't say anything, clearly baffled of what's happening in front of him, and on inside of him. What's happening to him?

He got his own taste of medicine, getting left for their own goals. And you, of all people, is doing that to him, makes the pain doubling him over to the edge of sanity. But he's confused. Why is he feeling this for you?

But you'll come back, right? Yeah, you'll come back. Nothing to be worried about.

Though, he still rushed to the airport to see you one last time for the promised four years of being away. And that too, he failed to do, and without knowing you waited two hours for him to come by, guessing you're not that important to him, and it's still volleyball Tooru's prioritizing. And definitely, you couldn't hold onto what he said to his bestfriend over the phone. And he said to keep in touch, but you have no plans to.

Being with him is dangerous for you, and for the little growing pasta inside of you.

You're cradling your little bundle of joy of a three-month-old to sleep as you heard a knock on your door. Must be the food delivery, your mouth instantly watered and you rushed for the door.

You were greeted by an orange-haired man, all dressed like the usual delivery man of your favorite restaurant nearby. Though, you were familiar of him for he had moved two apartments down your unit and.. he's clearly Japanese.

"Thank you, Shoyo. Come in and get the money in that table." You nudged your chin to the high table beside your mirror just off the sala.

"Seu bebê está dormindo, Y/n?"

"About to." And you turned to face your baby to Shoyo, and he instantly cooed and poked her fluffy cheeks.

"Adeus Thalia~"

"Adeus Tió Shoyo~"

And he's about to go out the door when you called out to him. "Shoyo, relax, you'll gonna be fine." Because you noticed him in his first month that he's nowhere okay, probably missing home like that achingly familiar guy. Shoyo nodded at you, lips quivering and bowed, clutching the strap of his delivery bag. When he was gone, you sighed deeply thinking you're seriously plagued with Japanese neighbors.

The days went by and you decided to expose your baby to the sunshine and to people. You just hope she'll be a good pasta out there, hoping she's as sociable as her father. And you were thankful that she is, as she flapped her fat arms to passerbys as you head for the beach. You remembered Shoyo and his friends are lounging here when they got nothing to do, except for Pedro that's probably cooped up on his room.

But suddenly, Thalia went rigid in your arms and after three months of taking care of this cute pasta, you knew what was happening as she started getting whiny and whimpering. You kissed her cheeks and turned back to your apartment. And that's when you heard it..

"Oikawa-san!"

"ChibiーAh! Shoyo!"

Your breath went suddenly restricted, you feel your feet wobbled you held on tight to Thalia, forcing your steps towards the path to your apartment.

"What are you doing here Oikawa-san?"

"Uh, that's my question, thanks. Don't steal it."

Faster, Y/n. Before he notices you and your crying pasta. Fuck. What are the odds. WHAT ARE THE ODDS!

"Y/n?"

You froze and looked up, the captain of Tooru's volleyball team staring down at you, surprised. He might've seen your watery eyes and silent plead because he suddenly nodded and just went on like he didn't see you. But seeing Thalia.. You silently battered yourself in your thoughts for being so dumb. You should've known!

You were crying hard as you changed Thalia's diapers, and she's crying with you as you rock her, kissing her head. It was just his voice, but it has already this big of an effect on you. You missed him, so bad, but you can't destroy the ones that you love.

And he's just seeing Ran in you.. you can't indulge in him anymore. You're thankful for Thalia, butー

You froze as you heard a knock, your fear of him taking over.

"W-who is it?" You squeaked as you took a look at your peephole.

"It's me. Pedro." You sighed, but not near to be relax. You opened your door and let Pedro in.

"Você está bem? Your eyes areー"

You placed Thalia in her cot as she got tired of crying and now is sleeping. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

"Uh, just heard Thalia's cries, thought you might need some help?"

You quickly wiped a tear fallen to your cheeks, "Nope. Thank you. Shoyo? Is he home?"

He paced to your dining, and you just noticed the plastic bag on his hand as he placed it on the table. "Nope. But he sent this for you. He also sent for me, too. So.." He studied you for a minute and let his thoughts go, "Eu deveria estar indo. Knock when you need help, okay?"

You nodded as you smiled at him. You wanted to say you wanted to leave Rio, leave a place again just to be away from him completely. You exasperatedly closed your eyes, rubbed your forehead on all the things you're already planning, then your eyes flew to your sleeping pasta.

For Thalia. You'll endure anything.

You just hope he'll be gone after a few days. He should go after a few days. And within that wait, you'll be staying in your apartment. Thalia's exposure to the sun and to the public can wait, just for a few days.

And Tooru was conflicted on being in Rio, to where you said you will be. You haven't contacted him for over a year already, and it's bothering him to the core, much more bothered now than finding out that Ran got twins. He just wanted to see you, be with you, but how can he be with you if he can't even reach you?

And he saw Shoyo instead, glad and might be a little terrified at the evolution he's showcasing Tooru. But still a little clumsy as he said he lost his wallet, so he treated him dinner, and his friends. He told him there's this woman with a newborn in his neighborhood and when Shoyo decided to part his dinner with her, Tooru just ordered a few more for her, without knowing it was you.

He wasn't expecting to see you though, after a year of no contact he thought he was ghosted, just left behind with no traces. But a few years from now, he'll realize he had left a big part of him on you.

"You're kidding me."

Osamu gasp at something Tooru can't figure out from across the table. Shoyo was between the Miya Twins and they're looking at something on his phone. On times he got scared of Osamu, it was always related to Ran, the last one being 7 years ago at a haunting bistro off the streets of San Juan.

Tooru was shocked, as every athlete inside the joint restaurant of Moon and Onigiri Miya in Shibuya crossing, when Osamu grabbed Tooru's collar from across the table.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Tooru?"

"What is your problem now?"

Osamu snatched Shoyo's phone and shoved it to Tooru's face.

Tooru's eyes were achingly slow to reach the Shoyo's phone screen because of his irritation. He was already sleepy and he just wants to go back to his apartment. But no, the heavens have other plans.

He saw you in Shoyo's phone, and his shaky hands reached out to hold the phone yourself, wide eyes and tears running down his cheeks as his eyes fixed on a little girl beside you.

"What the fuck, Oikawa."

"What's happening?"

"There's this kid that looks a lot like him."

"And?"

"Osamu?"

"We met her in San Juan, Shoyo. You didn't even thought about that? How dumb can you be?"

"Yeah, boke. But what? A kid?"

"Thalia's 7 years old now."

"Wait till Hajime hears this, Tooru."

"You're one messed up dude, really."

But he's deaf of the judgments around him. His attention was on you, and his probably little girl. No, not probably, he was sure it's his. She has the same chocolate brown hair and eyes.

He smiled through his tears and faced Shoyo who was just staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Y/n's that friend that I told you about, with a newborn."

Tooru closed his eyes, he never realized he was already that close to seeing you. Why didn't youー

"She said Thalia's father is just seeing her as someone else so she never told him she was pregnant. And Y/n's too invested in making that man's dreams come true without her, so she decided to escape from his grasp." Shoyo tilted his head on Tooru in brooding annoyance. "You don't destroy the people you love. She would always say that everytime I ask her why won't she go back, but that applies to you too, huh, Oikawa-san. And twice at that."

The place fell silent at Shoyo's words, except for Osamu's whimpers at the familiarity of the quote he once said at that bistro.

Tooru fell back to his chair, Shoyo's phone falling to the table with a loud thud. His composure was like a broken dam and a series of fucks and what the hells were muttered 'round the place.

"Where is she now, Shoyo? She deserves my apology."

Tooru heard Hajime but his cries came flooding on his system. He didn't even realize he loves you this much until now. Oh what irony.

"She's still at the apartment. I can call her if you're both coー"

"Don't. If she knew Tooru's coming, she might evade him again."

"Tooru-oni, stop crying, you look dumb."

Ran's 7-year old son, Takeshi, was previously seating in Kiyoomi's lap and now he's infront of Tooru, offering his hanky to him. Tooru sniffed hard and wiped his tears, and smiled to which Takeshi scrunched up his nose. So much like his mother. He took the hanky from his little hands and kissed his head. Takeshi made way to Tooru's lap and sat there, cringing at how Tooru blew his nose.

But Tooru hugged Takeshi, kissing his head more, to which Osamu rubbed his face exasperatedly and walked out. "'Keshi, you'll be staying with me tonight just until mama's home, okay?"

"Haiii~"

And Tooru felt Hajime's hand on his shoulders, tapping, encouraging him on facing you a week from now.

But by now, you're not afraid of him anymore, instead you're just waiting for him to find you again, like what the fate did seven years ago. And Thalia's ready for his father, too, but Tooru should expect her grumpiness and competitiveness as she had taken it from him.

"Oikawa Tooru, mama?"

"Si, mi amor."

"He's a dangerous volleyball idiot."

And you laughed. Yeah, he's a volleyball idiot, alright. But dangerous? Hm, nope. He's actually soft and a crybaby that you would want to comfort and protect for all eternity.

Estas bien? ー You, okay?

Lo siento por eso ー I'm sorry for that

Gracias ー Thank you

Cariño ー endearment for lover

Por favor ー Please

'ñorito (señorito) ー gentleman, sir, (but yn intended to humor him)

hija ー little girl

mi amor ー my love

Tan orgulloso de ti ー so proud of you

Seu bebê está dormindo? ー your baby is sleeping?

Adeus ー bye

Você está bem? ー are you okay?

Eu deveria estar indo ー I should be going

Reblogs and interactions are appreciated. Theories will be entertained. Cassie 2023.

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bri-cheeses · 5 days

Text

| Rosekiller microfic (songfic? idk) | Word count: 641 |

A/N: For better reading experience, I recommend listening to “Brividi” by Mahmood and Blanco, considering that this was based off the chorus of that song

Barty laid next to Evan, goosebumps raised on his skin, head turned so he could better examine the other’s boy’s features.

Evan was sound asleep in Barty’s bed. His lips were parted slightly, and his head rested on the spare pillow that had found its way there sometime after the thousandth occurrence of this happening.

Evan’s eyelashes were long and fluttered slightly as he breathed in and out, naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. Something about the way he looked when he was sleeping, soft and unguarded and so painfully lovely, reminded Barty of what he had realized not even three days before.

Barty was in love.

He was in love with someone who understood him, who enjoyed his company, who was beautiful inside and out.

And he wished he could tell Evan, but every time he tried, something in him stopped the words before they ever made it past his lips.

Evan was amazing. He the best thing to ever happen to Barty, and sometimes Barty thought that if he were given the chance, he could love Evan more than any human had ever dared to love another.

But Barty knew that he messed up, over and over and over again, and that he would only hurt Evan if they tried for anything more. The strength of his love threatened to be all-consuming, to chew them both up and spit them back out again. He just didn’t know how to love someone without hurting them.

Barty would sacrifice the world for Evan—he’d known that for a long time. But he had never been certain that he wouldn’t accidentally set the world on fire before handing it to Evan, burning him in the process.

And Barty didn’t want to burn Evan. He didn’t want anyone to hurt Evan, much less for him to be the one to do it.

But as he lay there, he had the sneaking suspicion that he already had.

When he had first kissed Evan, he hadn’t done it because he loved him, he had done it simply because he wanted someone to kiss. And Evan had kissed him back without any hesitation, eager and hungry as they fell into bed together. Barty had thought they wanted the same thing—someone to get off with, something easy and uncomplicated.

But afterwards, when Barty had said as much, he had seen something shatter in Evan’s eyes. Evan had mumbled a quick, “Right”, then made up some excuse to leave.

Barty had blinked, and Evan was picking up his clothes from beside the bed. He had blinked again, and Evan was gone.

But it had happened again. And then again. And it had kept on happening, until Evan wasn’t leaving immediately afterwards, and Barty had realized that he didn’t want Evan to leave at all.

That’s where it had gotten so incredibly complicated, full of messy emotions and misunderstandings. Full of cracked hearts and longing glances, words thought but never spoken.

Sometimes, Barty thought that if he were offered a magic ticket that could take him far away from all of it, take him away from the perilous cliff edge he was dangling off of, he didn’t think that he could refuse. Even if it cost more than money, Barty thought he would be willing to pay the price.

Because the price of the ticket for the other route, the one toward Evan instead of away, was something vital in Evan that Barty knew neither of them could afford.

Barty messed up, and he messed up bad. And he might dream of that destination, the one marked simply “Evan”, but he couldn’t let himself board that train. Evan’s loveliness wasn’t worth it.

So he merely laid there, silently staring at the boy he loved, and tried not to shiver as the goosebumps spread further across his skin.

#i am so sorry #oh also #for anyone wondering #the translation of the lyrics i used to write this are:#Naked with shivers / At times I cannot express myself / And I would like to love you but I’m always wrong /#/ And I would like to steal you a sky of pearls / And I’d pay to go away /#/ And I’d even accept a lie (I feel like this line is from Evan’s perspective though) /#/ And I would like to love you but I’m always wrong / And I get shivers shivers shivers /#basically Evan is Mahmood’s part and Barty is Blanco’s #but that’s only in the chorus because I feel like in the rest of the song it’s the other way around #sorry #it’s a bit confusing I know #but I love it <3 #rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr

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beautifulpersonpeach · 10 months

Note

Bpp how have you been handling chapter2? Do you get bored or lose interest in Bts in hiatus? Do the solo rollouts not bother you? Please be honest I really want to know you true opinion.

***

Hi Anon,

Chapter 2 has been rough for you, hasn’t it? At least, based on your ask it sounds like it’s been. Tangentially, did you enjoy yourself this past weekend?

I’ve said this before, but if you ever feel like it’s a chore to remain plugged into BTS or stan culture, please step back. Don’t feel guilty about detaching if you no longer find joy in it. Move on to another hobby or another group if that’s where you’re at. BTS has fans, don’t worry. Don’t feel any obligation to stick around if Chapter 2 isn’t serving you what you want. You can check back in 2026 when the guys are together, or move beyond them completely.

That said, personally, I wonder how you can even ask me this question. Like, what else has Chapter 2 been but a trip? Lollapalooza, Balming Tiger collab, World Cup, Jungkook’s birthday video for Jimin, Indigo collabs, Set Me Free Pt 2, Promise on Spotify, On The Street, D-DAY tour, Yoonmin live, etc.

It’s been a blast. The music is easily some of the best globally this year and last. To illustrate:

...

The song I just listened to is Baseline by j-hope.

youtube

It's like a drug for me.

I don't think you understand.

I get high... off their music. Like, I don't know why you think two years of irregular releases without their full promotion of that music, will change my underlying sentiment. BTS scratches an itch few other artists can reach for me.

[ The sentiment? BTS is one of the best musicians of my generation. They make music that actually slaps. Any day of the week. Any genre they touch. It's prime good music. ]

Let me walk you through my playlist for the last half hour:

J-hope - Baseline

Baseline is the sauciest hiphop joint out of Korea, ever. J-hope is undeniably one of the most skilled and versatile rappers out of Asia. Point. Blank. Period.

RM, Tablo - All Day

RM's vocals in All Day render me a stupid mess. He's sooooooo... he's kinda nasty. I mean, it's big, he's kinda messy with it, but he ultimately knows how to use it, and he knows you know that he knows. All of this I deduced from his articulation and delivery on All Day. Tablo too, that tease, matched Joon's energy seamlessly. No further comment.

youtube

RM, Mahalia, Benny Blanco - Closer

Namjoon created a masterpiece with Indigo. It's an atrocity that many people won't admit it. Really. Indigo is the album of 2022 (Hurt by NewJeans being the song of the year, and JITB at Lollapalooza 2022 by j-hope the concert experience of the year.) Closer is an impeccably produced song. I mean it's almost disgusting how smooth the production, arrangement, instrumentation, etc on that song is.

youtube

Jimin - Alone

The cold clarity in his lyrics. How raw and honest he is, in such a well produced track... people need to show this song more respect.

youtube

RM - Change Pt 2.

The only song that rivals how brilliant and badass this one is, is Set Me Free Pt 2 by Jimin.

youtube

Agust D - D-DAY

The entirety of D-DAY album still has me in a vice grip, but something about D-DAY the song, rips to the core. How he manages to slip something rock anthemic into the epic call to arms he made that song into... Yoongi is in a league of one.

youtube

And to drive home the point, listen to him on HUH?!

Agust D, j-hope - HUH?!

Still the best song on the album. Undeniably. I mean, if you don't black out when this song comes on are you even alive? /gen. No matter where I am, what I'm doing, I could be exiting my company's underground garage, loading laundry, whatever... no matter what I'm doing, when this song comes on I feel my brain short circuit. It's like a mental reset. I suddenly feel so alert and primed with tension I could kill a person if I felt like it. The grandmas scared about what rap does to teens... songs like HUH?!, really do flip a switch in people's heads. They're right to worry because that's what the genre, drill - the gritty, ominous, and violent contemporary expression of rap - that's what it's made to do. And Yoongi showed an effortless mastery of it in HUH?!

youtube

Agust D - tour medley

I hope people who weren't able to see Agust D in person, were at least able to see him in the livestreamed concerts. Many times since I saw him in California, I've come back to some fancams from his earliest days of the tour. This one by rogrog is a favourite. Yoongi is a master of his craft who loves to show off his virtuosity. And in his D-DAY tour, that's what he does.

youtube

j-hope, J. Cole - On The Street

Jung Hoseok just casually produced this timeless classic and dipped to the military. No fuss. No sweat. No excuses. He just did the thing, had J. Cole spit some of the sickest bars of his career on that song, then said, "see you later."

Things like this are why he's my bias.

He's a consummate professional.

youtube

Unpopular opinion, but I have no real issues with their solo roll-outs. I'm not unsatisfied with too much and frankly, I'm so greedy for new music I wouldn't mind another cluttered roll-out. I hope Joon's music follows soon after JK's because God knows I'm not sure I can stand the wait much longer. Joon makes a lot of 'BTS-style' music and so whatever he drops will serve as the perfect complement to Seven / JJK1. And Vmin will likely drop new music in the next year as well.

Chapter 2 has been kind of a blast.

That's my "true opinion", Anon.

#bts rapline #bts rapline bias #bts #yoongi #min yoongi #jung hoseok #jhope #namjoon #kim namjoon #jimin #park jimin #bts chapter 2 #kpop #kpop music #music

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alena209 · 1 month

Text

Maya and The Three: a general analysis

Today, I bingewatched Maya and The Three (will be shortened to Mat3 from now on), from episode 1 to 9, generally because of a good friend of mine, @rainbowcutie1789 . If not for her, than I'd probably would not even know anything about the show. And by the way, this was a part of a game of Truth or Dare that I played with her (I dared myself and her that we'd watch our favorite shows. She watches my favorite, I watch her favorite), She's watching Ren & Stimpy, by the way (she likes it quite a bit)

This post has (spoilers) for the show, but Let's start!

Plot

Mat3 is a linear show consisting of 9 episodes, and its plot is Maya going on an adventure with the three warriors (Rico - The Rooster, Chimi - The Skull and Picchu - The Puma) as a part of the true Prophesy (hence why the main group are at times called "The Prophecy Friends") to defeat Lord Mictlan (the main antagonist of the show). The show will probably take around ~4:30-5 hours for ya.

Characters

Maya - the poster girl of the series*

*a poster girl (out of "poster boy") is when a character (usually the main character, female in this case) becomes the character that the show is generally associated with and appears as the main focus in promotional material such as, well, posters.

Maya is one of the main characters of the show and (as I said) the poster girl of the series. She's half-human, half-god (so a demigod), being the biological daughter of Lady Micte, the goddess of death and King Teca (guess who he is). She's raised by King Teca and Queen Teca (her stepmother). It's basically confirmed in the show that she falls in love with Zatz, one of her former enemies, former emissiary of Lord Mictlan and the son of Camazotz.

In a nutshell, Maya's generally a brave, adventurous girl.

Great MC and poster girl, 9/10

Zatz - The Prince of Bats, poster boy of the series?

Zatz is the prince of bats, being sort of the poster boy of the series, but mostly because of his handsome design, with a generally glorious, but Gothic-like appearance, as he derives from The Underworld (hell?). As I said, he's Maya's romantic partner, that's why I put him right next to Maya in this post.

Can't say much about the guy, but he's a chill dude, 9/10

Rico - The Rooster (hehe he's like Rico from Brawl Stars)

Rico's generally my favorite character in this show because of his personality. He's just a silly talkative guy! He's a magician and he can use two types, one from his apparently sentient staff Estefan (hehe, get it?) and his more powerful and dangerous type, peasant magic. He's generally a really expressive character for me, that's why he's my favorite.

He was cowardly at first, as we learn from his backstory that

(SPOILER ALERT) when he was at his (likely first) magic talent show, he made fun at by other people when he tried to do magic and he used his Peasant magic, in turn destroying the Luna Auditorium as a whole.

He did start to embrace his magic and used his peasant magic and eventually Estefan.

I love him! Such a silly little guy! 10/10 character.

Chimi - The Skull

Chimi comes from the jungle and was raised there, as she was feared by her people for being albino (and thus, having a very pale look) (being called "Monstruo Blanco" (White Monster))

She's grown to be an excellent archer and somehow speaks perfect English, despite being raised in the jungle?

She paints her face like a skull, likely for her deceased mother, hence why Picchu calls her "Bones girl".

Cool ass character, 10/10

Picchu - The Puma (hehe, his name is like Pichu the Pokemon)

Picchu is the barbarian of the main group. Mercy is his motivation, as he thinks that it's something that he wouldn't give, but it's who he was. He also doesn't really have that much knowledge in English, so he messes up with the language quite a bit.

A Barbaric, but kind guy, 9/10

Lord Mictlan - The Main Antagonist of the show

Lord Mictlan has a badass design and I absolutely LOVE how he can just split his face in half at times. He is the main antagonist though.

10/10 design, 9/10 character.

Minor Characters

Here, I'll mention some side characters of the show

Grand Bruja - I'm only mentioning her because she has a goofy design, with her using her nose for battle once.

Grand Brujo (not to be confused with his daughter, Grand Bruja) - also has a goofy design

Ah Puch - there are three of Ah Puch, I love that.

Camazotz (Zatz' father), Vucub - They have badass designs.

Zyanya - Camazotz' wife and Zatz' mother. She has a funny name. (Not meaning to offend her)

Now, the qualities

The Qualities

The animation and visuals are absolutely amazing! There are moments in the show where the characters just pop out of the movie format and get to the borders of the 16:9 format, mostly in action scenes.

Speaking of the action scenes, they are SICK. I love them.

The animation in general is expressive and smooth, always what I like about something!

The character designs are great all around, from beautiful, to badass, to goofy. The visuals are basically movie-standard!

The voice acting is great! Not much to say more about it.

The show itself

The first 8 episodes are great, with episode 1 introducing us to the Teca and Maya herself, episodes ~2-6 introduces us to the Prophecy friends, as she's figured out, again, the true prophecy after (spoiler alert) she sees symbols on her brothers' graves, them being Rooster, Skull and Puma.

The ninth episode, The Sun and The Moon, however is the final one and is about the main group and their allies defeating Lord Mictlan. It's AMAZING, it's an episode that rivals with my favorite episode of Ren & Stimpy, "The Royal Canadian Kilted Yaksmen". Both episodes hold special places in my heart, albeit, the Yaksmen episode has a more special place but Mat3's ninth episode is close.

General rating

It's a really great show that would take you only around ~4:30-5 hours long with amazing visuals and lovable characters!

10/10 series!

#maya and the three #mat3

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bumblesimagines · 6 months

Note

you were a waste of my time.

how long have you known?

Ivan Carvalho

you were a waste of my time.

how long have you known?

pronouns: they/them, gender neutral

i am a patrick hater first and human second

It'd been silly to think Patrick Blanco would ever keep a promise. He'd assured you time and time again that he and Ivan were over, that the spark there had died and he no longer viewed Ivan as anything other than a friend. In retrospect, you should've seen it coming. Patrick had happily pursued Ander despite knowing Ander was in a happy relationship and he'd blissfully pursued Ivan even after repeatedly being rejected. So, when you stumbled across him kissing Ivan and your boyfriend leaning into it, the surprise had been momentary and easily replaced with numbness and indifference.

Scribbling down some notes from class, you hardly noticed the footsteps approaching you from behind until someone swooped down and planted a kiss on your cheek. Cologne invaded your nostrils and you recognized it quickly, a prickle of annoyance flooding your veins as you craned your neck up to look at Ivan. Taking it as an invitation, Ivan leaned down to kiss you again but when you turned away, his lips met the top of your head. A quiet huff left him and he hooked a ringed finger under your chin to tilt your head again.

"How's Patrick? Did you have fun at his place?" Your words made him pause, doe eyes blinking rapidly and puckered lips contorting.

"What?" He nervously laughed and pressed his thumb into your chin, affectionately rubbing your skin. "Love, I was with Isa. She needed some help choosing what outfit to wear to the party tonight, remember?"

"The more you lie, the stupider you look, Ivan." Your words made him reel back, a look of hurt flashing over his pretty features. If only he'd taken time to check his social media, he would've seen the countless posts Isadora had made with Cayetana throughout the day. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, turning your attention back onto the notes. "Aunt Sandra was right. You were a waste of my time."

"How... How long have you known?" He asked quietly, slumping down on the seat beside you with downcast eyes.

"Since my birthday party when you snuck off to make out with your ex." He winced and you nearly rolled your eyes again when his own eyes suddenly flooded with tears. Ivan reached out to carefully take your hands into his, pulling them toward his face and kissing your knuckles. Anyone else might've melted right then and there, but Sandra had raised you and Rebeka right. If only she could see it now, she'd have a laugh.

"Sinto muito, meu amor." Ivan murmured, voice soft and gentle. You snatched your hands out of his grasp and he released a shakey breath. "It- It was a mistake. That night Patrick said he wanted to talk and I thought nothing of it-"

"Sounds like he's been wanting to talk a lot recently. You've been blind to Patrick's behavior since you met him. You don't see how he operates, how works toward making everyone around him miserable just because he is. He messed with Ander and Omar until the two couldn't be together and he's doing it again now. Patrick doesn't care about what you want. He only cares about himself." You flipped the notebook shut and rose from the chair, listening to it scrape against the tile. You shoved the notebook into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, taking one last look at him.

"Patrick will only let you go once he's taken every ounce of happiness from you. Have fun with that."

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iamnotawomanimagod · 11 months

Text

Here's the other poll.

There's a list on that poll explaining ones I left out and why! :)

#these were the ones that people mentioned the most in the tags #and some others I just completely forgot #halsey #polls

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voidstilesplease · 2 years

Text

imagine being such a hot gay guy you turned your straight friend and his straight dad bi

#patrick blanco #ivan carvalho #cruz carvalho #this was so messed up #but hilarious the more you think about it #elite #elite s5 #patrivan #patrick x ivan #patrick x cruz

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eirinstiva · 2 months

Text

Raffles and Bunny: Siempre hay un roto para un descosido

Happy Ides of March!!! Today is a good day because autumm is coming to the southern hemisphere, I have a new pocket knife (I call it Brutus) and received my first letter from my new friend Bunny Manders 🐇

I know Raffles is known as el ladrón de guante blanco (the white-collar thief) in Spanish and there's a lot of pastiches as stories or plays made by Spanish authors like Gonzalo Jover and Emilio G. del Castillo. There's an edition in Spanish, part of El Club Diógenes collection by Editorial Valdemar:

... so I'm very excited with this letter!

Poor Bunny Manders, he has lost everything except his honour (yet), and he's a mess:

"I have no people! I was an only child. I came in for everything there was. My one comfort is that they're gone, and will never know."

When depression hits hard, it's a good idea to call a friend and ask for help. Maybe Raffles is the solution

But in his handsome, unmoved face I read my fate and death-warrant; and with every breath I cursed my folly and my cowardice in coming to him at all.

Oh no, Bunny...

Because he had been kind to me at school, when he was captain of the eleven, and I his fag, I had dared to look for kindness from him now; because I was ruined, and he rich enough to play cricket all the summer, and do nothing for the rest of the year, I had fatuously counted on his mercy, his sympathy, his help!

Well, I know that fag means something like "a younger servant" in public schools, there's a power imbalance between them. Apparently Bunny was lucky being Raffles' fag because not all of older students were kind with their fags.

There was as little of mercy as of sympathy in that curling nostril, that rigid jaw, that cold blue eye which never glanced my way. I caught up my hat.

There's some light in your way, Bunny! Oh, wait... Now I understand why there's a warning in this story (suicide)

Nor was this simply because Raffles had the subtle power of making himself irresistible at will. He was beyond comparison the most masterful man whom I have ever known; yet my acquiescence was due to more than the mere subjection of the weaker nature to the stronger.

ಠ_ಠ

I like how Raffles is ready to help him, even when he doesn't have money himself.

Again I see him, leaning back in one of the luxurious chairs with which his room was furnished. I see his indolent, athletic figure; his pale, sharp, clean-shaven features; his curly black hair; his strong, unscrupulous mouth. And again I feel the clear beam of his wonderful eye, cold and luminous as a star, shining into my brain—sifting the very secrets of my heart.

ಠ_ಠ

"I've made such a mess of my own affairs that I trust myself about as little as I'm likely to be trusted by anybody else. Yet I never in my life went back on a friend. I will say that, otherwise perhaps I mightn't be in such a hole to-night."

Oh, no... pobre conejito mío... ಥ_ಥ

"You would stick at nothing for a pal—what?" "At nothing in this world," I was pleased to cry. "Not even at a crime?" said Raffles, smiling."

Bunny... this in dangerous!

"No, not even at that," I declared; "name your crime, and I'm your man."

ಠ_ಠ

So this is the beginning of the criminal duo of Raffles and Bunny. Are they made for each other? Maybe. In a sense of "there's a lid for every pot" or "misery loves company"? I don't know, but both idioms can be translated as siempre hay un roto para un descosido: There's always a broken [thing] for an unstiched [thing].

#letters from bunny #aj raffles #a j raffles #crime and cricket #bunny manders #book club #IDES #letters in the underground #ides of march #the ides of march

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visd3stele · 3 months

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i finished watching griselda on netflix and i have thoughts!!

first of all, the opening quote is still sending chills down my spine. i don't condone addiction or drug dealing at any costs, but imagine being told pablo fucking escobar fears you and only you. SICK!!

then it shows this woman – mind you i have no real life knowledge on griselda blanco – who is forced by her husband to sleep with his brother to clear a debt.

she is a mother first of all, a woman facing a men's world alone. her sons are first on her priorities and she would do anything to see them safe and fulfilled. this presentation gains sympathy from watchers and i think it's brilliant, especially for what's about to come.

her path isn't easy and i found myself rooting for her to succeed, even disliking carmen when she got mad about griselda's "bussiness". the emotional stake at the beggining worked a bit too well. plus, she was helping all these people, gaining a empire that she ruled with justice and compassion. she was a woman of the people and that's what drawn all of them to her.

another thing i love was the feeling of comunity that started to snap looser and looser by episode. simply amazing. she gave all this people a shared purpose, a feeling they belong that the watcher could be swiped right into. *chef's kiss*

the downfall was even more tragic like this.

the first time she hears her "title", even i get a smile on my face. the power, the recognition, all of it is tangible. intoxicating.

but then it starts getting to her head. and things spiral out of control. she gets addicted, her head's not clear anymore and her sons get mixed up in all this mess. her new husbad tries to be a voice of reason when he doesn't recognize her anymore, but fails miserably. and one by one griselda hurts and betrays all those she cares about, without meaning to.

that's how – that's why – she loses everything. as former criminals, like Dario, get redeemed, cured of that life, griselda sunks deeper. it's her own power that destroys her, such is the fate of all great empires.

and i absolutely love this rollercoaster of emotions packed in only 6 episodes. it's been a looooong while since i watched something good on netflix, but this? THIS is what i signed up for!!

#griselda netflix #griselda spoilers #griselda blanco #movie talk

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venomous-ragno · 1 year

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Jealousy, jealousy

Alejandro is someone his men look up to, but he's also your lover, and lovers get jealous sometimes...

Tags: Alejandro Vargas x you, gn!reader, nsfw

Warnings: Jealous Alejandro, mentions of alcohol

Masterlist

There’s not much that passes by his eyes unnoticed. Alejandro keeps an eye on you like an eagle on its prey, but it's purely for your safety and surely not to see your hips swaying to the music, thin beads of sweat rolling down your neck or how you bite your lip when you look at him with cheeks reddened from alcohol- No, he watches because you're as enticing as a siren impossible not to fall for. And he knows he shouldn't. That you're perfectly fine and don't need him hovering over you. He knows, but can't help himself when he averts his attention for just a moment and there's someone talking to you already...

Alcohol clouds your vision, makes you weak, unpredictable. Alejandro stays away from it. Doesn't want you to see the side of himself that doesn't hold back, that wants to mark you as his and reduce you to a mess incapable of doing anything but moan his name. No, you needn't see that side of him. He'll be as responsible and gentle as you've known him, and if he must drown his jealousy then so be it.

The smell of blanco tequila was unusual on him, this familiarity as his lips captured yours, a hand on the back of your neck as he set the pace. A man of heavier kisses, freeing noise whenever he places one, close to a moan eventually. Unhinged, he props himself on the elbows and tugs on that hair band of yours to get a better angle of your exposed shoulder.

“Don’t... Ah-Don’t let anyone talk... To you...”, the words are slurred as he soon starts nibbling on your skin. Perhaps he just finally found a reason to mark that canvas as the other hand anchored on the little of your back, sneaking under layers of jacket and shirt. His fingers dug, probably leaving prints.

“Like... That...”, a little pop of his mouth, he watched that reddened tint deepen on your neck to a pretty stain. He looked up to you, bruising lips with a kiss surprisingly harsh of him as his fingers soon started pulling the hair band off. All until hair was curling underneath him. His brows furrowed at the sight, dissatisfied. Was it that beautifully blushing face of yours? No. Your hair curtailing your form like an angel’s shine? Definitely not.

"Más... Más de ti... [More... More of you...]”

Definitely. He started work right away, can’t ever leave a masterpiece unfinished now can we?

He's greedy. He wants to see all of you, make you confess things you didn't know of yourself even. You won’t catch the seconds where your back already kissed the bed, where rough hands snake around your thighs, then hips before they get under your shirt. There’s a line between rough and gentle that he walks when he does this. He felt your goosebumps up to your chest and watched your back ease when his squeeze was tender; much more caring than his mouth would be. It’ll be the last time you meet eyes before he kisses to the hem line of your jeans, when his teeth tug the zipper... Alejandro wants you whole, he wants to carve himself into your body. Because once he’s set his mind on something, he won’t be done until you are. He’ll get noise complaints, you’ll shiver from that cold belt buckle hitting your bottom with each thrust, your back will turn red from the friction as you're pulled back and forth.

Satisfy you until you're beyond drained - until it’s enough for his next deployment.

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty headcanons #cod mw2 imagine #call of duty x you #alejandro vargas x reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 years

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miss kitty | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Oh, Miss Kitty, you're so bad but so good, so damn beautiful that you make me sick, ah, for real tho, Jeon Jungkook swallowed too much alcohol and ice-cold chaser at once and now he's sprinting to the bathroom to vomit. But, oh, he does want all those kisses so damn bad.

warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining what's new, it's JK; vocal line ogling Miss Kitty, what? she's in a bikini, we know she's doing it on purpose; if the outfits sound familiar, refer to the original ITS outfits, lmao; literally just crack + fluff; mentions of a blowjob and sex daydreams; non-idol!BTS - a mess (of bad decisions)!Jungkook x noona!reader, ft vocal line shenanigans, mentions of Joon + Hobi, and Yoongi appearing at random inappropriate times; JK's POV with a tiny bit of Seokjin's POV

ofc inspired by 'bad decisions' by benny blanco, bts, and snoop dogg

“You’re kidding me.”

“She never comes to these things.”

“The hell are you guys looking at – holy shit.”

“Are those cat ears?”

“Who gives a shit about the cat ears? She’s in a goddamn bikini!”

“What is her tongue doing?”

“Can you be jealous of air? Because I’m jealous of air right now.”

“I heard she bites into her popsicles.”

The four heads admiring the woman in a black bikini and fluffy cat ears snapped to the side in unison where a bored voice sat under them, using the four men as his personal shade. Sunglasses, wide-brimmed straw hat, watermelon popsicle, wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and black pants at a pool party, nodding sagely as he continued.

“I lied. I’ve seen it. It’s hardcore,” Min Yoongi said with about as much enthusiasm as a rock.

“Where’d you get the hat, hyung?”

“Hoseok put it on me. I don’t know where he went.”

Kim Taehyung put his large hand on Min Yoongi’s straw hat and patted the golden-yellow circle. Yoongi continued enjoying his popsicle and squinting at the sun. Well, it was hard to tell because of the sunglasses, but that was what Jeon Jungkook assumed because he had seen Yoongi’s disapproving face enough times to see the wrinkle of distaste in his otherwise neutral, slightly upturned mouth.

Strangely cat-like.

“She’s crawling on people and pouring their drinks into their mouths,” Park Jimin suddenly said.

Kim Seokjin made a choking sound and covered his eyes, looking straight through his fingers. He was also wearing a straw hat that coincidentally matching Yoongi’s – or, rather, previously Jung Hoseok’s. He was looking handsome in a bright pink tropical-print shirt, robin’s egg blue t-shirt, and white shorts, itching closer to the drinks table to grab… something.

“What are you doing, hyung?” Taehyung suddenly piped up, making Seokjin squeak and send the red plastic cup he had been reaching for shooting across the table.

“Nothing!”

“Bring her over here, Tae,” Jimin hissed, taking his sunglasses off his head and hiding his eyes, as if he could hide in his royal blue shirt and distressed denim shorts that showed off his powerful calves.

“How?”

“How? Your face, bro!”

Taehyung was apparently completely unaware of how naturally handsome he was, but he was also the guy in a half-unbuttoned lemon-print collared shirt with green shorts that exactly matched the shade of green of the leaves, so it was pretty obvious that he was pretending for the sake of his dignity. “My face? What am I supposed to do? Smile?”

“It works on everyone else!” Jimin retorted.

“It kinda does,” Yoongi agreed, licking his popsicle.

Jungkook chanced a moment to stare at her.

This was bad.

Firstly, she was definitely out of his league. Those full, shapely lips in that teasing half-smile. Eyes that promised making secrets if you got her alone. The movement of her hair cascading over her shoulders as she walked. No makeup – he could tell because the small mole under the left side of her lower lip was visible. So fucking pretty that he wanted to throw up. Soft little cat-ear headband giving her a demure look even though there was nothing demure about that sleek, sexy body tucked into a simple black bikini. Clean lines, nothing fancy, but a million bucks because it was on her, perky ass and long legs ending in strappy heels.

She bent over and Jungkook had to stare at her face to avoid thinking about ramming his hips into that plush booty.

Secondly, she was older than him, which was not a problem except it was a problem because Jungkook was trying not to be that guy, you know, the kind of guy that went after older women because they most likely knew how to suck dick better or was that just his brain trying to justify watching her tongue dance across her lips as she leaned in and poured a drink into some girl’s mouth. The girl looked like she was about to orgasm.

Same, miss, same.

Thirdly, women like that had a reputation for only appearing when they wanted someone to prey on and Jungkook didn’t want to be that guy, you know, the one that was eagerly waiting to be preyed on every day of the week, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, I mean what, no, but, well, he had to admit that there was something sexy about letting it happen even if it was clearly a bad decision.

Fourthly.

She looked up and made eye contact with him.

Shit!

Jungkook threw himself behind Taehyung and stumbled right into Seokjin’s midsection.

Jimin gasped.

Yoongi scooted out of the way and finished his popsicle.

He wouldn’t. No, of course, no. It was a terrible choice. And what was he gonna do? Those legs around his waist and that insane confidence all up on him – no, Jungkook didn’t believe that he could survive. And the whole situation was even worse because one time he accidentally overheard some noises and saw something at the back of another party, at the gazebo in the lavish garden. Surrounded by trees and dark wood, there it was, Kim Namjoon’s dick down her throat and her tongue flashing against his crotch, her hands clutching tan shorts that were still-half-on.

Nope, Jungkook would die if she came within ten meters of him.

He didn’t want to be that guy.

God, she was so fucking hot that Jungkook wanted to die.

He grabbed Seokjin and dragged him around the large table of drinks and coolers, grabbing a cold glass of pink ice and pouring two shots of vodka down his throat, chasing it with the frozen slush.

Okay, it wasn’t two shots of vodka.

The soju bottle was half-empty in his hand.

A bad decision.

Jungkook choked at the ice-cold sensation and Seokjin, instead of helping him, snatched the glass from him and chased down whatever god-awful burning fire he also ingested, leaving them both collapsing and dying under the table. Taehyung rushed over as Jimin scooped up an ice tea-looking drink that definitely didn’t only have ice tea in it.

“Guys, are you okay? Drink this!”

“What happened, Jungkook suddenly malfunctioned…!”

He didn’t have time to explain through his blurred vision and inability to feel his throat that was both hot and cold at once, thoughts swimming, those legs popping into his head again, the soft curve of that v-line, hips that begged for hands, tiny waist trapped between his arms, okay, fine, Jungkook had sex dreams about her, but who could blame him, he accidentally watched her give a blowjob! At a public party! Not in public, but… basically! And she had that beautiful face, he hated how she could look sexy and cute at the same time, and he didn’t see her often enough even though he went to these parties with Taehyung and Jimin in attempt to see her again, just to see her body line and her smile, not to touch, of course not, he couldn’t.

She was there only rarely, but.

He wanted to make out with that mouth so bad.

Feel those kisses on his skin and squirm in a dark corner, trying to hide from everyone but also not, at this point he didn’t have shame anymore, he was clutching Seokjin like a life raft on the patio under a table and drunk on his thoughts, in another dimension where this sexy noona in a black bikini and cat ears was crawling over him, her fist on his chest mimicking a kitty cat as she leaned in and pressed that underlip mole against his skin, lips and tongue connecting with his.

He had never even spoken one word to her.

Wait.

No, one time he said, hi.

That was a strong enough foundation to at least hold hands, right?

Jungkook felt a hand on his right leg.

“Hey, you alright? Should I call paramedics?”

Everyone froze.

Jungkook felt his eyelids stretch into huge, geometrically correct circles around his large eyeballs.

She was kneeling under the table, staring at Seokjin and him.

Holy fuck, I can see her nipples.

Her hair framed her face perfectly, wispy tips around her cheeks and over half her forehead. Inquisitive eyes with a piercing shape, the kind you would always remember. Soft pillowy lips slightly parted with that small mole slightly to the left of that full lower lip. The cups of the bikini molded perfectly to her breasts, but this angle showed off the peak of each mound, sticking out very obviously because she was on her knees on the wooden deck, under the plastic table, tilting her head as her left hand rested on his right calf.

The cat ears gave her gestures a feline playfulness.

She crawled over a little more and Jungkook nearly threw up, the alcohol suddenly hitting him like a truck. Or she was so damn beautiful that his body was physically rejecting the liquid poison so he could maintain an erection.

One of those.

“I’m gonna be sick,” he wheezed.

He threw Seokjin aside and his hyung yelled as he was caught by Taehyung, but Jungkook was too busy scrambling to his feet, losing his sandals in the process, a blur of topical yellow shirt, black t-shirt and blue shorts, throwing himself into the open patio door and hastily stumbling into the nearest bathroom to retch.

Nice.

Kim Seokjin never made bad decisions.

Nope.

He only made good decisions, like pretending to play dead as the sexy woman crawled over him and placed her hand on his forehead, asking Taehyung if he was okay. He let Taehyung sputter as he cracked open his eyes to peek at those boobs and those supple legs between his legs. Could feel her soft skin against his and the pads of her fingers stroking his brow. He heard them suggest going inside to lay down for a bit. Saw Jimin helping her up, so Seokjin did what any person attracted to nice ass would do.

Stare at it.

Her back was turned. She wouldn’t know.

“I’ve been here before. For a vacation last year. The bedrooms are this way.”

The air conditioning felt nice actually.

Jungkook lost them.

How could he lose three men, especially with one with massive shoulders, one of the sexiest men alive and… well, Jungkook often lost Jimin but that was because he didn’t have a reason to look down that often. Kidding! Anyway… after gargling an obscene amount of sink water and reconfiguring his swirly vision, Jungkook emerged from the bathroom, expecting to see three concerned faces looking for him, but there was nothing but bouncy club music and summer outfits on bodies that weren’t the ones he came with.

He didn’t even see the straw hat hyung.

He came because Jung Hoseok had asked him to come and celebrate summer, renting out a huge vacation mansion to do so. He had no problem coming over to help set up, but he told his hyung that he was going home right after, he wasn’t the party type, not really, oh, well, maybe stay for an hour, ah, okay, two, holy shit, cat ears and a bikini and Jungkook was doomed.

Damn you Miss Kitty.

In his defense, Jungkook had never seen her in a bikini before!

And it was glorious.

His dick was wet thinking about it.

Jungkook jerked and went back into the bathroom.

Reemerged after cleaning that up. Anyway. No. Jungkook was not gonna be that guy. Hooking up at a party? No, that wasn’t him. He was the kind of guy to dance in a corner and stay in that corner with his friends. His friends would wander off to take photos and make small talk, but that wasn’t him. And he certainly couldn’t chat up someone he was interested in, especially someone so damn beautiful that it made him sick.

Oh!

Jungkook found his sandals. Someone must have collected them and put them by the patio door. He was about to put them on and check outside, but them he spotted something in the mess of shoes. Dainty, strappy black heels in the rays of golden hour barely starting.

He whipped his head around and went back into the house.

Friends? What are those? They would find him eventually. He scanned the party, looking past the glowing faces, peering at the tops of heads for fuzzy black cat ears. He was just looking. He wasn’t going to do anything. He was just checking out what she was–

Perky faux animal ears bobbing past his vision, coming from the kitchen.

Jungkook’s brain told him, this is a bad idea.

Jungkook’s dick told him, looking at those nipples poking out of that bikini one more time couldn’t hurt.

Jungkook’s legs were already walking very fast.

In hindsight, he knew why he was hesitating. He was a simple guy. He liked what he liked and, when it was a person, he didn’t want to let go, especially when that person was cool, capable, and stunningly attractive, someone who did whatever she wanted but never at the expense of others, someone who tiptoed the line of what was proper, breaking those rules so casually that he fell deeper and deeper for that teasing half-smile, but they hadn’t even had a real conversation yet and what if he was in delulu land all this time?

But Jungkook couldn’t just let her walk away.

If it was a bad decision, then…

Fuck it.

He saw her enter a room, leaving the door partly open.

“I brought a cold cloth and some water.”

Jungkook slowly peered over the doorframe.

Seokjin was half-propped up on a bed with an obscene number of pillows as Jimin and Taehyung crowded around him, lifting his hair as she placed a damp washcloth on that handsome forehead, handing him the glass of water.

“Should I bring some hangover cure too?”

“Ah, aren’t you cold, noona?” Taehyung asked worriedly, placing a light hand on her shoulder. “We should find a jacket or something…”

“It’s so nice,” Seokjin suddenly said very loudly. “When you’re all sitting next to me.”

The eldest shot a murderous look at Jimin and Taehyung, wordlessly telling them both to not have her move from his vision again. She seemed not to notice, patting Seokjin on the head with her thigh against his, scooting closer to the pillows.

“Don’t worry, we’ll accompany you until you feel better.”

Miss Kitty – not her name but what Jungkook was calling her in his head now – leaned over to the pillows and placed her forearms on them, turning to Jimin to ask how he knew Jung Hoseok, but Jungkook had no idea what she said because he was staring at her ass nestled in the bedcovers and that gorgeous back half-covered by her hair. She was having an entire conversation with the three of them as Seokjin sipped on his water and acted as if he was slowly but surely recovering from some mild distress, and yet Jungkook was hearing none of it, tuning out their joyful laughter as he gawked by the door. She turned to speak to Taehyung.

Jungkook stared at her stunning profile, dying slowly but surely on the inside.

She leaned over to Seokjin and kissed him on the cheek, turning him instantly red.

“Feeling better?”

Jungkook nearly broke the doorframe as he threw himself inside the bedroom.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you guys!”

That sounded way more aggressive than he meant it to sound, but Jungkook didn’t care about those sudden fear in three collective pairs of eyes because her head turned in slow motion, cat ears and all, looking over her shoulder, and then those inquisitive eyes were on him, just him, Jeon Jungkook.

“Oh! I know you. Ah… what was it again…?” She scrunched up her face a little in adorable thought. “Aah, Jeon Jungkook! Yes, Namjoon told me a lot about you.”

Everything but her saying his name went over his head.

“W-W-What…?”

She turned slightly, her chest against Seokjin’s arm and his hyung turned even redder, abruptly freezing in place and not moving. Her arm shifted and she borrowed that broad shoulder, smiling at him and Jungkook felt his mind turn into a puddle of mush, forgetting all Korean as she said, “He said you’re good at everything. Especially sports. The complete opposite of me, heh.”

“I’m not good at sports,” Seokjin blurted.

“Me neither,” Jimin suddenly added.

Taehyung was not one to be ignored. “I could teach you golf. It’s easy.”

“Is it?”

And she looked away from Jungkook.

That does it.

There was a certain bro code. Don’t make moves unless alone. Simple common courtesy. Group settings should be chill, not a competition. But all was fair in love and war and this was war, so Jungkook slid out of his yellow short-sleeved button-up and walked forward, placing his knee on the bed and draping it over her shoulders in the middle of their conversation.

She turned immediately, her hair bubbling in the collar, kissable lips parted in surprise.

“You’ll get a cold,” Jungkook said quietly. “That wouldn’t be good, noona.”

There was a second too long, a pause that seemed to linger.

“… Thanks, Jungkook.”

She patted the spot on the other side of her.

“Come a little closer.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Somehow it was already dark. The party was winding down. Everyone was finding corners to sit in. An old-school, feel-good movie played on the massive television screen in the living room that people occasionally glanced at. Seokjin got hungry and left with Taehyung to order something to be delivered. Jimin got whisked away when someone recognized him from the door. Must have been someone that he hadn’t seen in a while because he was glued by the door now, leaving Jungkook sitting with his noona wearing cat ears and his shirt over her bathing suit.

“Over a perilla leaf? Isn’t that a little too extreme?”

She was laughing at him. Jungkook puffed his cheeks.

“You don’t understand!”

“No, I don’t. It’s just a leaf,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “You think too much about a simple gesture. What, you let me borrow your shirt and I should expect us to kiss?” She grinned, anticipating him to answer with something silly.

Jungkook opened his mouth but nothing came out.

The reality of their moment alone suddenly hit him.

The corners of her lips faltered, noticing his hesitation. He swallowed quickly and shifted his eyes, begging Jimin to come back and break this sudden tension, but Jimin was too absorbed in his friend reenacting a funny story and now this was getting too weird, he had waited too long to say anything and so he willed his head to turn and at least look in her direction but he couldn’t for some reason, his neck and ears turning hot as he sputtered then almost full-on threw himself onto the floor when her hand touched his thigh.

“Jungkook?”

He jerked robotically and laughed awkwardly, the noise immediately dying when his eyes made contact with hers.

She tilted her head, cat ears and all.

Don’t do that, Miss Kitty!

Her hand shot back like he was made of hot coal.

“Sorry. Sorry, I was… well, you acted a little weird there.”

Wait, don’t do that either.

Jungkook cleared his throat, swallowing his nervousness. “No, I…”

He suddenly noticed the placement of her hands on her lap, her fingertips rubbing the hem of the shirt against her thigh. She hummed along the bass of the song playing outside, looking away from him, and suddenly he felt bad. His odd behavior probably made her uncomfortable.

“Hey, uh, noona?”

She turned her head and gave him an attentive look, so pretty he nearly became tongue-tied again.

“What’s with the cat ears?”

She ticked her chin and gaze upwards as if she was glancing at them even though they were on the top of her head. “Oh, these? I just felt like wearing them.” She grinned, creating little bread-like puffs of her cheeks. “I felt like I should have a little fun so why not look the part too?” She raised her hand and lightly bonked the side of her head, letting out a half-sigh, half-laugh. “I’m always fighting between, am I too much or should I let myself go wild? ‘Cause I want to do things but people might misunderstand me.”

Her fist curled a little and her expression became one of cat-like mischief, his shirt falling open a little and exposing part of that tiny bikini top.

“Nyang.”

Jungkook was going to faint from her cuteness.

And losing blood in his head because it was rapidly shooting down to the lower half of his body.

She laughed, dropping her hand and waving it around. “Just ignore that, hahaha! I do whatever comes to mind that feels like it might be fun, heh.”

“No,” Jungkook heard himself saying. “That was cute. Do it again.”

Holy shit. He was smiling like a dumb idiot. Where did this confidence come from? He must be drunk. Never mind that he emptied the contents of his stomach earlier. Never mind he definitely spent the past three hours talking and drinking nothing but water. He must be drunk. Fuck, why was she so cute and sexy? With those expressive eyes and that smooth skin with the little dot of a mole underneath her lower lip on the left side, a half-smile as she raised both hands to mimic little two paws and went…

“Nyang.”

Her knuckles brushed against his collarbone lightly, smile turning into a playful smirk.

“Nyang!”

Jungkook died.

Not literally.

But, well, Jimin was still right there, people he didn’t know were right there, Seokjin and Taehyung could come back any second, and if he wasn’t in heaven, he was at least in a fever dream and somehow previous knowledge of late-night dramas popped into his head, generally not advice he would ever take in real life, but, all of a sudden, he was compelled to reach up and grab her hand, covering her make-believe cat-paw with his larger hand, tattooed fingers over her knuckles.

She froze, eyes widening.

“Hey, noona.”

Her eyes darted from his hand to his face.

This was a bad decision.

Jungkook let himself smile because he didn’t care.

“I wish you would kiss me, but that’s crazy, huh?”

What the hell am I saying? Abort! Take it back right now – wait, why was she getting close–

She leaned over and her lips touched his.

Now Jungkook was sure he died. Maybe literally. Ceased to function at least. It was only a simple press of lips to lips and then she drew back a little, tilting her head a little and smiling. He was dead. This must be heaven.

“Just one? Or more?”

He was speaking but it was more like barely intelligible mumbles. “B-But… I… You… me…”

She tapped his own hand against his chest, mischievous sparkle in those eyes.

“I mean, if you think helping someone peel a perilla leaf is going to lead to holding hands, to kissing, to straight up marriage, what does borrowing your shirt lead to?” she purred against his lips. “It smells just like you, like you’re right against my skin, giving me a hug from behind.”

His brain immediately went to delulu land. A back-hug? In her bikini? With his nose nuzzling in between her fake cat ears? And everyone knowing they were together?

He would just have to convince her to be his.

Jungkook closed the distance between them and she smiled against his colliding kiss.

In hindsight, this was a bad decision. Now Jungkook was going to have to lie and tell his children that he asked his mom out on cute dates instead of the truth of becoming obsessed with her little by little, oh, and accidentally seeing her suck his hyung’s dick, and, ah, now making out with her on a bed that wasn’t his while she was in a bikini and cat ears wearing his shirt, her thighs squeezing his waist as he gasped into her mouth.

“What are you guys doing?”

Jungkook yelped and clutched her waist, shoving his face into her clavicle as she laughed and turned her head to the bored voice beside the bed. A peek over her shoulder and there was a straw hat and a pale hand holding a slice of pizza.

“Seokjin-hyung and some guys bought pizza,” Min Yoongi announced, chewing slowly as he stood there beside the bed, pointedly not explaining how or why he suddenly got there. “You should eat it while it’s still hot, Jungkook.”

“What about me?” said the laughing voice above Jungkook’s head. “I want pizza.”

“Apparently you’re eating men,” Yoongi countered. “I’m not worried about you being full. Jungkook will fill you up as soon as you let him.”

A full minute of dead silence that was filled with outside laughing and loud music. Yoongi casually munched on his pizza as Jungkook grabbed her hand and mumbled something about getting food, he couldn’t stay here any longer, he was going to expire of embarrassment, practically fusing with the wall to get away from that judging look. He didn’t regret it but it was still mortifying, all this a bad decision but bad as in bad meaning good, and he froze up as her fingers turned and intertwined with his, her body leaning against him, lips pressing to his cheek.

“Don’t worry. We’re accomplices now, you and me.”

Jungkook turned his head, staring into her eyes.

Miss Kitty and me.

The straw hat popped into his peripheral vision.

“I’m still here.”

Jungkook sputtered and ran, her laugh right by his side.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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