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whatifyoulivelikethat · 8 days

Text

never not mine | jjk | "i hear..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey. Breaking up with Jeon Jungkook had been a vicious, clean break. He tried to take it back, but the damage was already done. You walked out of the world you didn't belong in, at least until Kim Taehyung calls your name.

this is part i | part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of controlling behaviors in a romantic relationship; reader is emotionally distant after said breakup; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; your POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; and a certain Maestro cameo; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

“Please love me again.”

You could hear him saying it but you pretended not to hear. You pretended not to know. You pretended he wasn’t there. He was persona non grata. No, he was simply another blurry face amongst many that faded into the grey background of grey days. He was only a ghost. If he happened to be in the same place as you were, it wasn’t any of your damn business. People were allowed to be wherever they wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was.

Sorry that he couldn’t walk all over you like he wanted. Sorry that he couldn’t control you on that leash like he wanted. Sorry that you had the balls to cut all ties and not put up with his selfish bullshit anymore. Sorry. What a word. Your response had not been a vindictive one, though. You hadn’t blocked him on social media. You figured he would block you himself. The last moments were him berating you for being late, what if something happened to you, I was worried, and you snapping. It had taken every fiber of your being to not fling your clutch in his face and tell him to take himself out if he cared so much.

“I understand what you meant now.”

The first couple times he attempted to speak to you after it all, you were ice-cold furious. So angry that you simply refused to speak to avoid spitting literal fire. So, you didn’t. And then it became a habit. Then you stopped caring. You stopped feeling. You lived your life.

Alone.

Like an abandoned puppy, Jeon Jungkook followed you every chance he got, but there were less and less chances as time went on. You would walk past him. He would follow until it was definitely too creepy and simply stop, staring after you with a lost look in his empty eyes. Everyone could see the broken heart in his stare.

A lot of people asked you what happened.

It was a valid question.

It was just as valid for you to not answer.

“I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else.”

You avoided people who couldn’t let it go or cut them out altogether. What was the point of shit-talking, taking sides, making yourself angry over things that couldn’t be changed? What was the point of being upset over nights that couldn’t be taken back? Over phone calls and you sitting alone in a restaurant, empty chair in front of you and the reason in your hand, an opportunity came up, I’m leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, I need to pack, bye. Over trips suddenly cut short in the middle, the agency called, another model got sick last minute so I gotta go, just stay here and have fun. By yourself. Over accusations, what are you doing right now, send a photo, now. Over doubts, are you really at the supermarket, I don’t know, you could be doing anything, I’m not there after all. Over being five minutes late because the taxi you had taken was driven by an older gentleman chatting away, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up simply because of a boy.

Five minutes.

“Where were you? You need to tell me if you’re late. What if something happened? I was worried.”

“The driver was talking to me.”

“And you couldn’t text that you were okay?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Am I not your priority?” he had hissed.

Snap.

All those times, all those moments, okay, I understand, it’s fine, you can make it up to me later, they all came back to you in vivid recollections, and you had stared at Jeon Jungkook. All those people saying how lucky you must be having such a good-looking guy, an actual fashion model, must be so nice, and you only said nice things about him because it didn’t occur to you to complain, no, it would be silly to complain about someone you loved. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it, being in love was putting up with these things and believing in their words. All those instances, prove what you’re doing, send a photo. Now. All that shit got you to this moment right here, right now, under this furious scrutiny, his dark brows furrowed, his pretty mouth twisted in a frown, his question ringing in your ears.

His accusation in which he had already deemed you guilty.

“The fuck you say to me?” you had growled softly.

Never once did you ask him what he was doing in the destination that he was at. Never once did you fault him for going out and having fun. Never once did you say anything about the multiple social posts of beaches and hotels and nightclubs and everyone scantily-clad, his arms around fellow models, pressed up against fabulous guys and glamorous girls. If he didn’t answer you for a couple days, you assumed it was due to long shoot days and combined jetlag making him crash. The very answer he gave you the first time you asked. You believed him then. There was no need to ask for confirmation over and over if you trusted him. And you did trust him.

Now, this.

“I was five minutes late. If I thought I would be later, I would have texted you,” you explained with emotionless calm. “At least I showed up. At least I didn’t make you sit down in the restaurant, wait around for an hour only to get a text that you aren’t coming. Not even a phone call anymore.”

You hadn’t raised your voice.

He had looked taken aback.

“But… I thought you would understand.”

“Of course, I understand.” The seething anger was white-hot but your tone was crystal-clear cold. “I can understand, as long as you show me some grace and appreciation for not losing my shit every time it happens. Am I not your priority? When have I ever been yours?”

He tried to answer quickly. “You’re always–”

But you were already pulling up the rideshare app, calling another car to come pick you up. “Am I? Then why accuse me the second I get out of the car? Where was I? In the taxi. You saw me get out of it. Why are you holding five minutes over my head like a death sentence, as if I surely betrayed you in those extra five minutes? If it’s you it could be five, thirty, hours, but I have to understand you are networking. I have to understand you are being personable. I have to understand that you are practicing being friendly because it doesn’t come naturally to you.”

Jungkook simply gawked at you, wide-eyed.

You narrowed your eyes, creating a distance he could no longer cross.

“Am I just here so you have someone to visit when you’re bored? Someone to fuck?”

Maybe the vulgarity was taking it too far. Maybe saying all of this in public right now was in poor taste. His jarring question rang in your head. Am I not your priority? Maybe you were wrong to say it all now, but it was the way he said it, as if your love for him had become invalid once you were five minutes late to the appointed time for this date that you didn’t know whether or not he would abandon you in the middle of or take you home and rock your world – and you realized you didn’t care what the outcome was.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

There were so many things he could have done. He could break up with you if his career was more important. He could say sorry more. He could find ways to make it up to you. He could, but he didn’t, and you understood. But this. This you could not understand. This he could not do.

No.

This you would not let him do.

If this was innocent concern, he made it worse by coming off as suffocating and hovering. Now, you realized that no excuse would have been good enough to convince him otherwise. He had already made up his mind to attack you the second you walked out of that car, delivering in the fatal blow instantly. All those moments. All those times had become hair-thin cracks, marring the bond between you and him, tiny little slices to kill the relationship and your will to be in it.

“I don’t think…”

He trailed off, not completing his thought.

The car pulled up.

This was surely the meaning of quiet treason.

“No, you don’t,” you had finished for him with icy agreement. “You expect. You expect me to be here and hold your hand when you want it, and now I know you will never ask me if I ever need my hand held.”

You had stepped away from the curb, not once raising your voice, no longer looking at him, your knuckles digging into your beaded black clutch. You expected it to hurt at least a little.

It was nothing compared to this death by a thousand cuts.

“W-Wait!”

You didn’t.

You had opened the car door and closed it quickly. The driver requested you to confirm your name. You tersely nodded. They didn’t ask any further questions even as you witnessed Jungkook’s shocked face in the side mirror as the vehicle drove away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t even cry. Maybe you should have given him a chance to say something. A chance to change.

Except you had.

This wasn’t the first time that you had this conversation, although the first time was you sitting him down and saying, hey, if you’re not sure about your schedule, let’s not arrange any dates around those days. We can go out when things settle down. The answer was agreement and all was well for a couple weeks. And then it would happen again. And then you would bring it up again. Whoops. And again.Then he would ask you what you were doing when he wasn’t there. Oh, really? Send pictures.You asking, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The answer being, I want to know you’re safe. You finally admitting that it drove you a bit crazy. Him laughing and saying he was a bit of a handful, brushing away your concerns in light of his own.

Five minutes.

Am I not your priority?

The anger had nowhere to go.

Like how summer turned into fall and then into winter, the anger grew cold and dense and concentrated. A stone. Then one day you turned it over and found nothing underneath. You stopped caring. On one hand, you could have been the bigger person and reached out. On another hand, you didn’t see the reason in wasting any more time. What good was closure? What good would it do, talking it out and getting the same result? Deserve this, deserve that. Fair or not, at the end of the day, it didn’t work and there was no forcing something if neither party wanted to really try. I understand, until you couldn’t anymore.

Now.

Now, you would sit alone at restaurants and not be disappointed.

Table for one, yes, thank you.

Now you would spend hours at the games store and no one would be asking you to take pictures and prove that you were there. He used to play video games too, but he gradually fell out of them. Busy. Felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sold his PC because he was never home.

Emptiness where he had once enjoyed spending that time with you.

You would stay at the music store for a long time, looking over albums and wondering if you should buy them. It had been such a long time. You never listened to CDs anymore although you had been obsessed with music as a kid. The past felt like a different time. Memories of a clunky CD player and wired headphones with the metal arch over your head and those spongey earcups. Now you had wireless earbuds and a phone. Still, you looked over the colorful albums and wondered if you should get one, just to have it or maybe even put it on display. He used to listen to a lot of music too. Probably still did, on planes and in cars. He used to share your taste.

Now you didn’t have to share anything.

You stuck with your favorites, still, for years. It was an ever-growing list of popular artists as well as lesser-known indie artists that you never forgot. You made sure to listen to the top hits as well since those songs were popular for a reason. The occasional earworm could lead you down a pleasant rabbit hole, too.

You picked up an album of a band you liked but had never owned and went home.

Got that dopamine unboxing it and smiling at the photocards. Looked through the extras with the album on repeat playing through your Bluetooth speaker. You didn’t do these kinds of things in front of Jungkook usually. You had always prioritized engaging with him. Listening to his stories, looking at the photos of places he had been, shaking your head at the long hours or difficult call times. Every moment precious because you would never know when it would be cut short.

You had made everything about him when in his presence.

You hadn’t blasted the relationship all over social media although it was obvious. For the most part, people had been respectful. You hadn’t deleted all the photos he was in, the photos he had taken of you, nor had you blocked him. People asked. You repeated the same thing over and over. I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else. People eventually stopped asking. Old news was old news. There was no visible resentment, and so the interest died out.

You caught Jungkook looking at you from across the concessions stand at the movie theater.

Those big dark brown eyes filled with rueful invitation.

You didn’t know what movie he was going into, but you turned away and didn’t think about it much.

Watched the movie you paid for, alone.

Went home.

Alone.

You used to watch movies twice. Once by yourself when it released, then a second time when Jungkook could make it. When he could. Sometimes he couldn’t and the movie was already out of theaters. Then you both would watch it at home when it released on streaming services. It was what it was. You enjoyed movies. You had the time and money to watch them twice. But now you didn’t have to.

That was nice.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was deliberately going places that you often frequented or if it was coincidence. It was likely the latter, because he usually wasn’t alone. He had a group of friends that lived in this area and often came to visit them. He used to joke that it must have been fate for you to meet as your friend circles didn’t overlap. At least he had not shown up to the video games store or the music store you usually went to, so you didn’t feel threatened in any way. Maybe he was visiting his friends more because he was sad. Maybe he was visiting them more in hopes of seeing you, the same tactic he used when he first asked you out. Maybe it was both.

It was probably both.

Sometimes you would cry in frustration.

Sometimes you would play games to distract yourself.

Sometimes you didn’t mind too much as the days passed. Sometimes you would look outside and admire the sun. Sometimes it would rain and that was nice too. Sometimes you were sad but it wasn’t a negative feeling. Such was the natural course. Sadness was the promise of happiness to come, because one couldn’t exist without the other.

At least, you believed so.

Ther wasn’t much more you could do than that.

For a bit there you had almost thought the relationship hadn’t mattered because you had walked away so coldly. In some ways, you wished you could take it back. In other ways, you didn’t. It was hard to discount years of your life simply because of how the chapter ended. There had definitely been unique experiences that you were unlikely to relive. You used to attend lavish parties with Jungkook, especially many around the holidays. You would dress up in your best and put on a brave face. A lovely dress, the high heels he brought you, carefully done makeup and hair. Jungkook would walk in with you gliding beside him, silently holding his arm. People would tell you how fun it was working with him and how lucky he was to have such a pretty and understanding lady. These were all work events full of unfamiliar faces. Jungkook used to be reserved and hang out with you in corners but, as he got more popular, more people roped him into conversations, remember this, and he would slip in with his friends, naturally, laughing and smiling. You would wait nearby, at yet another party surrounded by better bodies, and somehow he would find you at the end of the night, ask you if you had fun.

And you would smile and assure him.

“Something like that.”

The best parties were the ones thrown by his friend Kim Taehyung. He had been in the entertainment industry for a long time, becoming Jungkook’s friend though their crossed paths in modeling. He had an affliction for celebration and Jungkook was always invited, which meant you, too, bore witness to many magnificent events hosted by him. The most extravagant were his own birthday parties. Quite so, as the date was after Christmas, and he continued the festive mood. Taehyung loved a theme. He would rent specific venues, arrange for live music, impose a dress code, everything. One year, he flew everyone out to Paris and rented an entire restaurant to celebrate. Even if you barely knew anyone there, it was fun being in a different world created by Taehyung’s magical vision. Everyone was thrown into it together, experiencing the vibes of an old American jazz club, the white beaches with glass waters during Christmastime, or a playful night filled with Taehyung’s favorite childhood games and sweet treats, complete with food stalls from the area of Daegu he grew up in.

You didn’t fit in, but no one did because these were all Taehyung’s fantasies brought to life.

He always sent the invitations by physical mail, on stunning stationery to match the theme. Someone else must have created them, but seemingly Taehyung approved them all as every single one contained his unique flourishing signature. You kept them in a box. They were too pretty to throw away.

You had received an invitation this year too, to a midnight masquerade ball, but you didn’t go.

Perhaps he didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps he did know and Jungkook asked him to invite you. They were quite close. If there was a plan, you didn’t take the bait. The date came and went. Maybe Taehyung considered you a friend, but that was probably a stretch. Jungkook didn’t like you talking to Taehyung too much.

Apparently, you made him smile too big.

Or something.

Taehyung had an entire party to get to every time you met him, anyway. You would have to shoo him off because there was very little night and Taehyung wanted to speak to every guest one-on-one. He was sincere like that. He was romantic like that. He was dark and handsome and in his own head, in his constant dream of living his wonderful life that, from what you could discern, he deserved. He even always remembered to ask the staff working at his party to eat cake with them. At the end of the night, Taehyung would pick up the microphone and thank the guests for coming and thank the staff for working hard to provide everyone with a good time. Taehyung always remembered to say thank you and he always made sure to express his gratitude to everyone, no matter their status.

You missed being at his party, a little bit, if only just to witness a fairy-tale in real life.

But you weren’t part of Jeon Jungkook’s world anymore.

And so you missed the party.

Please love me again.

On quiet, grey days, you realized how very boring your life was. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to think about the good times. About his laugh, about his starry eyes when you came into view, about enchanted nights where you would both make magic between bodies. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to pick out all his flaws until the memories were burned, images stricken with ash, never to be the same again. On quiet, grey days, you had every chance to run back or run away, at least in your head, but instead you lived your very boring life doing neither of those choices.

Whether you loved him or hated him, the result would still be the same.

You entered the artisan tea shop and greeted the staff. You talked about how your father was into tea, chatted about what would make a good gift. The prices of the sets. The amount of loose-leaf tea and how many cups it would make. The various flavors and strength. You smelled a bunch of different ones. Rejected some, remained indecisive about others, accepted a few as contenders.

You heard the bell by the door chime again, musical and clear.

A male’s voice, deep and polite.

You tensed. Your body knew before your mind caught up. You pointed to several flavors you had liked, and the employee suggested a gift box sampler featuring a watercolor camellia-printed limited-edition teacup set that you agreed to readily, all the while vaguely aware of a tingling behind your neck and a vigilant tension forming in your lungs. But it wasn’t until your name was called that you turned around by instinct, and then froze with recognition. Dark brown eyes under graceful black-brown waves. Tan skin glimmering under the lights. The image completed by a three-piece chocolate brown suit paired with a ruffled warm gray dress shirt and sharp dark leather oxfords. The stylish man smiled widely, box-like, and walked towards you without hesitation.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kim Taehyung must have known, and yet.

You bowed lightly. “Hello.”

The sales associate was immediately charmed by Taehyung’s deep voice and dashing appearance, their gloved hands hovering over the half-packed box and openly ogling the demandingly handsome gentleman that took your hand warmly before lightly kissing your knuckles. Straight out of a movie. Probably learned it from one, or from traveling in Europe. He let go after a lingering moment.

He had said your name with the same velvety warmth he had at all of his parties.

It had hurt, but it wasn’t his fault.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you buying something?” He raised his head and daintily smiled at the employee before giving you his full attention again. “Let me pay for it.”

“No, ah,” you interrupted him quickly, handing over your card before Taehyung could reach into his heavily lined pockets. “No, sorry. I’m buying a gift for my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, retracting his hands. “I meant to do something nice for you and I’ve overstepped.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” you chuckled softly, trying to dissipate the awkwardness. You turned slightly to sign the receipt, not looking at the price. Your card went back into your black leather bow purse. “You had no way of knowing. How are you? And your parents?”

Taehyung was still a little sheepish but he remained next to you at a respectful distance. “Me? I guess you could say I’m holding on. I think I might take a small break soon and spend a week with my family. How did you know I was thinking of them?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a mind-reader.”

You shook your head with a smile, taking the beautifully wrapped bag and bowing in gratitude to the employee. “No, you’ve just never been a big tea drinker. It was only a guess.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed lightheartedly. “Ah, you’re right. I wanted to buy a grown-up gift, but maybe I should have asked what they wanted. I don’t know the first thing about tea.”

You both began to walk towards the entrance.

“You’re their adorable child. They will love anything you gift them.”

Taehyung grinned. “So, you think I’m adorable?”

You opened your mouth and then.

Then you were suddenly hyperaware of the brightness of the lights in the tea store. Suddenly aware of all the customers around you milling about and chatting with their friends and the employees. Suddenly the scents of the store were too strong and too varied and suddenly a phantom grip on your arm from a time long past pulled you away from your center, into the past, and you remembered all the times you stood in a corner of a party, on the outskirts of alcohol, music, and magic, wondering why you were so, so alone.

You plastered a smile on your face and replied pleasantly.

“Of course, you are, Kim Taehyung.”

It lasted a second.

Maybe less.

Taehyung gazed at you with curious eyes.

You kept the smile on your face.

He stepped past you and opened the door, gesturing you to walk out before him in the most gentlemanly way, smiling with his eyes crinkling as they usually did when he laughed or was in his comfort zone. “Come. Let me at least treat you to lunch,” he insisted.

You accepted his graciousness and turned as you walked to face him as you spoke. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest. “Of course, I’m busy, but I always have time for a friend.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “My manager expects this kind of behavior from me anyway.”

You paused, looking up at him. “Friend?”

Flutters of lashes and confusion in dark brown orbs.

“Are we not friends?”

People around you continued walking, giving you and Taehyung weird looks. He didn’t seem to notice, undeterred by the world around him that wasn’t currently in his focus, the main character at every moment in his life, oblivious to anyone trying to get under his skin with their judgements, never the accessory to someone else.

It turned out to be more difficult than you thought, saying the words.

“I… well… Don’t you know that Jeon Jungkook and I aren’t dating anymore?”

Taehyung tilted his head with childlike innocence.

“Um… so you don’t eat lunch anymore?”

You blinked at him.

“Huh?”

He gave you this look. You stared back. For a moment the disconnect was so tangible that you almost had a word for it. A zephyr ruffled Taehyung’s soft curls. The sun made his skin glow and his dark eyes sparkle. Small signs of Mother Nature affectionately acknowledging one of her children. He smiled. It was then that you realized this was a decision you could make. A decision of a lonely self, not a lonely self that was an extension of another. A yes or no that didn’t have to be polluted by the past.

“Well…”

Your hands tightened on the straps of the gift bag.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I know just the spot! You’ll love it.”

It was nice lunch.

No, it was wonderful time.

You had been worried that you would be underdressed in your calf-length flowy black dress and chunky knit lavender cardigan, but you fit right in. Taehyung had picked a busy rooftop brunch spot. It was French-themed, or at least as French as Korea could get. There was a bit more wood than brass and crystals. It still made for a nice hideaway. It seemed Taehyung was well recognized here, and yet people maintained a distance regardless. It must have been his polite yet stern demeanor. When he sat down though, he seemed to relax, waving a hand and telling you to order whatever you liked.

You never could turn down good brioche.

You thought it would have been awkward, at least. It wasn’t. He talked about his work, asked about yours. Asked what you thought about this or that. Memories from past events, what you liked or didn’t like. What he paid too much for that nobody noticed, along with a hearty laugh, and moments he loved, such as having a group photo at every one of his events. You asked him if he enjoyed planning the events themselves. He confessed with a roughish smile that he had a planner for all those details. You thought it strange to spend so much money on such occasions, but there was something pure about it too. Besides, you ended up getting your answer.

“What’s the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?” Taehyung abruptly asked, sitting up in alarm.

You blinked at his suddenness. “Uh… I don’t know. I would have to think about it.” Your lips upturned slightly, then you tilted your head and looked back at him. “What about you? What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life so far?”

He relaxed back in his chair. His expression became pensive. You paused in mid-bite, seeing him look a bit sheepish.

“You’re not the first person to ask me about the parties,” Taehyung chuckled deep from his chest. “A lot of people tell me it’s a waste of money. And it is to other people, but it isn’t to me. The most important lesson I’ve ever learned was…”

He raised his head with a small smile.

“You can’t get time back.”

You remembered the extensive decor, the delicate hors d'oeuvres, even the various perfumes sprayed into the air complimenting the theme of each party. Exquisite and memorable details. Taehyung ticked his head, seemingly recalling it all too.

“I think I’ve mentioned this, but my grandmother was the closest maternal figure I had,” he explained, fondly smiling. “I’m close to my parents too, but they had to work a lot to give me a good life, so I spent a lot of time with my siblings and grandparents. My grandmother used to hold celebrations for the achievements I had, even if they were mediocre or not that impressive. Nothing extravagant, or anything. A little cake or my favorite sweets. She would sing for me and clap her hands. She would say, it’s my duty to give you good memories. As I got older, I became busy, of course, chasing dreams, and I didn’t make time for her small celebrations any more. I was just out of university when she passed away. I often think I hadn’t spent enough time with her. Time is money, as they say. Next time, I would say, until there wasn’t a next time.”

The weight of his words settled on the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded him, but Taehyung simply smiled and shook his head.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t it. I couldn’t get all that time back. Sure, did I take jobs that put me in a really good place now? Yeah. Yeah, of course, I make a lot of money now since young me jumped at every chance to model for a small brand or do a single-run commercial. I really love my career. I love that, because I did the hard work, I even get offers to act in primetime dramas now. But I should have made less. I should have made time. I should have gone to see her and let her do her duty to give me good memories.”

He waved his hands in a slight shrug. You could tell he was still regretful about it, but there was something else too. He looked directly at you with that boxy grin of his.

“I decided, then, that I too wanted to give good memories to the people that are precious to me. I have all this money, anyway. Why waste it on things? I want to waste it on memories. I want people to look forward to special days, to celebrate life, to look back on a fun time.”

So that was why.

“That is what is really important to me.”

Kim Taehyung wasn’t only good looks, of course.

“I’ve yapped long enough. What is really important to you?” he asked again, chuckling.

“Oh, I…”

And there were no words.

You straightened, startled by your own silence. There were lots of important things, weren’t there? There was… and there wasn’t. Friends, sure. And, also, friends came in and out of your life. You didn’t take it personally. Family, yes. Cordial but not deep. They had their own lives to live. You almost opened your mouth to say these generic things, and then you caught the look in Taehyung’s eye and stopped.

This basic question was not so basic after all.

“I… Am I boring?” you blurted with a start.

“Boring?” Taehyung frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Aren’t I?”

He laughed, hearty and deep. “Trust me. You’re not boring. We wouldn’t be having a conversation if you were boring.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are we having a conversation?”

Taehyung smiled warmly.

“Because I appreciate your outlook on life.”

You were taken aback.

“What?”

He nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?” He waved a hand carelessly. “I’ve met so many people doing what I do. Some people are just nice to you because of money. Or think you can boost their reputation. Or they think they can take advantage of you. You’ve been around all that too, no?” He did not mention Jungkook.

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not anymore. I’m pretty ordinary.”

A small frown. “No, everyone is extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “I’m only an accountant. Not even one that works closely with my own clients – I’m just the one at the firm that does the final review over everyone’s work to make sure we don’t get into legal trouble. That’s nothing like what you do.”

He impatiently swept your words away. “Everyone is extraordinary,” he repeated.

“I don’t think–”

“You are different,” Taehyung pressed. “You had been introduced to a different world than your own and you could have been a vulture. You could have taken for your own sake. You could have done everything you could to be ‘one of us’. You could have scorned us too, called it all superficial and stupid. But you didn’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “You observed. You listened. You treated me, the people around me, everyone as their own person. We weren’t just some dumb rich people to you. We were individuals.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t something you had ever consciously thought about before.

“There are so many people that believe in using others, either in a beneficial way or in a cruel way,” sighed Taehyung. “It’s a difficult world. We all need to live.” He reached over and made you jump by placing his hand over the back of yours. “Don’t give up on that, okay?”

Your stared at him with wide eyes. “On… what?”

Almost. You didn’t quite have an answer for the most important lesson in your life you had learned so far. But almost. Kim Taehyung cocooned his palm over your hand and trapped you with his determined brown eyes, straight from a drama scene. A heavenly prince in a fancy café. He looked back to you very seriously, taking all of your attention away from the whispering conversations on other tables, away from the clinking plates and glasses, away from all distractions.

“Don’t give up on the way you want to live.”

Those small moments.

From eating dinner alone to watching movies alone to buying that album and unboxing it yourself to looking outside, days and nights, wondering what could have been and killing that thought over and over again.

“The way… I want to live?” you echoed breathlessly.

The clear, musical chime of the bell by the entrance sang through the air, mingling with the conversation and consumption. A halo of sound that rang true over every table to reach every customer. It was as striking as it was lovely, flawlessly melding into the moment. A pure sound that could trigger a pleasant déjà vu, the recall of a good chat over good food.

Taehyung grinned with his beautiful, perfectly white teeth.

“I want you to have good memories. Whatever you decide, let us make good memories with those precious to us.”

You decided, then and there, that you needed to start doing things.

“Oh, good, you’re home. That would have been awfully embarrassing.”

“W-What…?”

You backed up in your slippers as a stunningly well-dressed man flourished into your home like an astronaut landing on the moon. That was, if the moon was your front door. The black mat was space-themed, printed with abstract stars and a grayish circle. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Your pajamas were also soft black cotton with a twinkly star print, although your slippers were simple, white furry poofs that felt like walking on clouds.

“Take this.”

“What is – oof!”

In contrast to your outfit, the man who had entered your home looked like he had stepped off the runway. He wore light blue trousers that you almost mistook for jeans, however they had a tone-on-tone print that clearly indicated the luxury designer. Underneath the navy-blue duster coat was a crisp white shirt pressed to the gods with distinctive sky-blue trim. A quick glimpse and anyone would know the inner lining of the duster was blue silk, the matching tone-on-tone print subtle and obvious at the same time. You nearly buckled under the weight of a wooden box, gasping as you saw the slices of high-grade beef in a gold bow. The man gestured with his hand in a swooping manner.

“I heard all about it from Taehyung,” he was saying, shrugging his broad shoulders heavily.

“Heard…?” You were still reeling from the unexpected guest and a box of meat. “What’s this, I can’t accept th–”

The man shot you a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided, dismissive. “How unbelievably rude I would be dropping by your home if I didn’t have a gift? Psh, why, I wouldn’t be Kim Seokjin!”

And so he was.

Although, as far as you knew, you and famous-actor-turned-businessman Kim Seokjin were not close friends. Not close enough to be gifted with a house call and meat, anyway. He had been close to Jeon Jungkook back then. They often sought each other out when they both attended the same events. You were well aquatinted with Seokjin’s boisterous personality and his worldwide-known handsomeness. He was no different today, looking sculpted from jawline to broad shoulders to the regal way he stood. Glowing skin. Lightly permed, chestnut brown hair. Full lips, currently in a slight frown.

You bowed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah, it’s alright.” He called you by name, although somewhat awkwardly, as if he was unsure if he should be more formal or not. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

You were still confused about Seokjin saying he had heard something from Taehyung. Actually, you didn’t even know how he got your address, although it wasn’t impossible. After all, Taehyung’s party invitations came in snail mail. It wasn’t that shocking. You probably might have been more annoyed if you were in the middle of something, but all you had been doing was getting ready to heat up some leftover takeout. You shuffled slightly, trying to block the view of the kitchen counter. Not necessarily embarrassed, per se, as your apartment was quite spacious and neat, but nothing here was comparable to Kim Seokjin’s lifestyle. It was kind of pointless to do so, though, since Seokjin was quite tall.

He seemed not to notice or care about the current state of your kitchen.

You stood there, dazed, clutching a box of high-grade beef.

He cleared his throat very firmly. “I came to invite you to the opening of my new establishment. Two weeks from now.” He rattled off the opening date. “But don’t come on opening day. It’ll be too crowded. Some day after. Let me know when and I’ll make special arrangements for you,” he added, stepping forward to tuck his business card into one of the folds of the gold bow. “Call the number on there. My assistant will connect me to you. I can link you with talented professionals if you are interested, which I’ll pay for, of course.”

“I– What – I’m sorry?” you sputtered. “Me?”

The handsome man exaggeratedly whipped his head from side to side. “Uh, do I see anyone else? Yes, of course, you,” he affirmed gruffly. “I came to invite you in person.”

“Well…” This must be how deer felt when confronted with headlights. “I’m not trying to be rude, but, uh… why?”

Seokjin looked offended. “Why? So you can meet people, silly.”

You struggled to connect the information given to you but he was not making it easy. “Meet people?”

“Yes,” he tutted. “You want to meet people, don’t you?”

Did you? You gave him a confused look.

“As Taehyung said,” Seokjin continued as if you completely understood. “People like you need to be surrounded by good people. And I happen to know a lot of them. We need people like you in this industry.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have any intention of–”

“Precisely.” He barreled on as if your front entryway was his own stage. “That is precisely why.”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“H… Hah?”

Something in his expression softened. You almost forgot the weight of the wood box in your hands. You almost forgot the ridiculousness of you in your pajamas and Kim Seokjin in his luxury designer clothes. You almost forgot that you were in a completely different class, completely out of your element, completely ordinary.

He sighed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, neatly tucking back his coat. “Look, I understand if you absolutely don’t want to have anything to do with me and the others. I don’t blame you. But,” he added, nodding lightly. “Your presence is missed. I do believe your interactions with those around you have done them a world of good. Maybe not everyone, yes, but you’re still spoken of, even now.”

“What…?” You blinked, doubtful. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckled, nodding. “You are good company.”

You thought all those times. All those events, dinners, parties. You mostly remembered Jungkook letting you be. Sure, you had light conversation with those around you. You couldn’t remember all their faces. They had been simple conversations, you thought, but they weren’t superficial once you really thought about it. You didn’t have basic industry chatter to talk about, so instead you had asked about aspirations. Asked why instead of what. Why acting? Why modeling? Why entertainment? Talks of the past, the present, the future. Pretty normal, you thought, but maybe…

Maybe it was more normal to ask what they were achieving.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal to ask who someone was.

“Anyway,” Seokjin coughed, breaking you out of your daze. “I wanted to give you ample time to think about it.”

“More than two weeks?” you mused.

He waved a hand. “Don’t know about you, but I need time to schedule and plan things. I need time to get myself ready to interact,” he muttered, half-joking and half-bitterly.

The meat was getting heavy. “Ah… What’s the dress code?”

“Aish, didn’t I tell you?” Seokjin tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. Then give me a call, and I’ll arrange for hair and makeup and fashion. No, don’t even bother asking about price. I’m inviting you to introduce you to people, so I am paying. End of discussion. And…”

A loaded pause.

Tick of the head and Seokjin very seriously asked you.

“If Jeon Jungkook is there, will you be fine?”

You answered honestly.

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

He surveyed you for a long second and then nodded.

“Alright. Let me know when you’ve decided. Have a nice night. Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help in some way. I’m not a stranger. By the way.” He added one last comment before leaving, spinning back around with a hand on your now open door and the other pointing to the side of the box. “The butcher shop I purchased this from is owned by a friend of mine. Make sure to send your family and friends his way once you taste how delicious and high-quality it is.”

You walked into the nightclub, oddly at peace among the blaring music and bustling bodies, stepping into a world of light and dark and pushing boundaries.

The past couple hours had been spent in a chair, fussed over by a detailed makeup artist and equally talented hairdresser. It had been more enjoyable than you originally thought. Perhaps it had been Seokjin’s excellent choices or their own expertise. They even both asked for your input and offered their advice. It felt like a joint effort. Even the fashion stylist who came later was as informative as they were considerate. You had found out that they had taken your name and your photos to have your fortune read and performed color analysis, respectively. That explained why Seokjin had asked you to take those plain photos. This had made color and style selection much simpler, as you naturally liked all the choices. You were no stranger to tight outfits, although this type of nightlife was not the kind of place you frequented. The stylist had brought a rack of choices, and just in case, a black slip dress looks good on everyone, and all of them were compelling in one way or another. All nightclub appropriate. You asked what to try first. The stylist had asked you how you were feeling.

Feeling?

The answer came out before you could stop it.

“Like revenge.”

You had laughed it off, and so had the staff, but you had seen the gleam in their eyes as if they, too, relished in being part of this so-called revenge.

Well, they were.

You weren’t perfectly sure if this was actual revenge yet, no. You were certainly dressed for it. Black lace corset. Tight lilac short skirt. Black patent leather jacket cropped so severely that it was nearly a bolero. Delicate black pumps with a thin ankle strap. The kind that was a bit fiddly to get on, but was worth it in the end. There was a power in this type of outfit, the kind that made you hold your head high and walk alone with confidence. Perhaps similar to a superhero costume. Just as impractical, too, heh. But that was okay. You weren’t here to prevent any crimes.

Just commit them.

Maybe.

In any case, you weren’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. Something had been planned for you, so you walked in and looked around, wondering if you should ask for help. The luxury was obvious from every corner of the building. From the furniture choices to the expansive bar to the crisp, pressed uniforms of the employees, every detail oozed sophistication. You admired the tastefulness of it, surprised that it didn’t feel gaudy or overdone. Must be the refined touch of Kim Seokjin. Even the clientele was jaw-dropping. You spared a moment to look from face to face, wondering if you should be less obvious about it, but then some paused and gazed back, unafraid, offering a simple smile.

They didn’t know you didn’t really belong, yet.

The sheep’s clothing worked, then.

You almost laughed at your own unspoken joke, and then, either compelled by fate, chance, or some mixture of both, your eyes rose and you saw him. It was definitely him. It was only the back of his head and black leather, but you knew it was him even before he turned around.

Jeon Jungkook.

You had seen him many times after the fact. However, this time was the first time that you came with weapons at your disposal, subtle as they were. For a moment, you wondered what to do. You stared as those brooding dark eyes widened in surprise. His hair was slicked back. Leather jacket, white tank, dark jeans, probably black boots. You couldn’t see it all from this angle. Still, you knew him too well. He wasn’t a suit-and-tie breed unless he was forced by the occasion. And, anyway.

You had mildly hoped that he would dress down these days, as it both suited him and reflected your preferred personal taste.

Egotistical, yes, and, now that you could see, true.

You broke the gaze first, seeing a waiter approach you. Bowed lightly, walking with him as he explained what was in store tonight, and yet your mind was still fixated on that shocked gaze from the far table up above. It did register that you were going up the stairs too, but somehow you knew that you weren’t going near that table.

You wondered if he regretted everything.

You wondered if he saw you differently now, dressed up and on a mission.

You wondered if Jeon Jungkook understood, truly, how deeply he had hurt you with his misdemeanors and you wondered if you, truly, understood how you didn’t help by always sweeping said misdemeanors under the metaphorical rug. You wondered if there was a chance for reconciliation or if this was all a big mistake. Maybe this was only another instance of two ships silently passing in the night. A pair of parallel lines that would never intersect. Or… would this become a pattern that could only be completed by intersection?

Whichever one it was, it was going to be evident tonight.

You raised your head, seeing a champagne bottle and another of expensive liquor.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes shifted and you smiled up at the waitress.

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled and bowed her way out. Revenge. You savored the word. You had never thought of it that way, but then again that was because you always believed in the higher road. In enduring. That was how strength was formed. Vindication was unladylike and uncouth. Or so the story goes. You became aware that you were being watched.

I don’t belong here.

You twisted your body and stared directly into Jeon Jungkook’s eyes.

He pivoted away immediately. Unable to hold your gaze. Ashamed, probably. You pondered quietly. He brought you into this. All this around you – beauty, opulence, and the shadows between gold. Even without him, your connection to these people remained because his friends believed in you for some reason. You agreed, because maybe there was still something here for you.

But that was no reason to believe that you belonged here nor to act like it.

You realized, suddenly, that some part of you still thought you had to keep up the front.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up to a man who had the expression of a pleased kitty cat. His eyes disappeared from his smile. Radiant, cream skin. Long, bleached-blond hair that was half-tied back from his face but still skimmed along his shoulders. He wore a suit and tie, perfectly tailored, and was noticeably shorter than nearly everyone here. Then again, almost everyone here was a model, in high heels, or both.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked lightly, his intonation hinting at a Busan dialect.

“Oh, no,” you answered with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to space out like that. Please, sit down.”

The man laughed behind his hand before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had elegant fingers that reminded you of a pianist. “It was cute,” he commented, somewhat shyly, before turning away and clearing his throat. He faced you once again, composed now, and bowed in greeting, stating his name.

You hurriedly did the same.

“I hope I’m not thinking too highly of myself by sitting here with you.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want this to be an open invitation.” You poured him a glass of liquor to start off the night. He had a noticeable presence. Not a towering one, rather, as someone who knew himself well. Still, you could sense an introverted soul. “Don’t feel too pressured. I only want to ask a question.”

His eyebrows raised, curious. “A question?”

You smiled. “Yes. And I want you to promise to answer honestly.”

His lips upturned thoughtfully. There was something playful about his expressions. Very cute. Perhaps unintentional. “A promise right away to a stranger?”

You allowed yourself a little mischief. “Do I look like I could hurt anyone?”

The man across the table caught the bait and toyed with it. An expert. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean It wouldn’t be pleasant.” He smiled again, with that same kitty cat contentment, and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to tell the truth. You only get one chance. Use it well.” His tone teased, but his voice was sincere.

The question.

You stared into a stranger’s eyes and asked.

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut

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umbrellasareforever · 18 days

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I don’t wanna sound like a Negative Narvin™️ but almost every theory I’ve seen about Ruby has her ending up being the daughter of either the Doctor or a companion of New Who significance (River, Rose, etc) and the absolute dread that fills in me at the thought of that being the twist is almost incalculable. The thought of it is just so boring and so uninteresting to me that if the final twist is something along those lines I will be so deflated.

Personally, I don’t have many theories yet but I stick with my original one and that is that Ruby is what I will call a Paradox Baby™️. This means that the woman dropping her off at the church, her “mother”, is actually herself and we never truly learn the origin of Ruby Sunday.

She doesn't trigger any sort of paradoxical effects by holding her infant self because she was always the one holding her infant self. The reason snow appears when they discuss Ruby’s origin is because reality can’t handle looking too closely at the paradox that is her existence. The Maestro was so unsettled by the (Christmas) song in Ruby because the song is representative of her paradox. It’s why the TARDIS makes strange noises around her every once in a while. Hell, it could be why the whole butterfly thing happened (regardless of what the Doctor said). She is able to exist because after Flux and everything with Swarm and Azure, time and space are nowhere as synchronous as they once were.

Finally, it all lines up with her line from the trailer, “It’s taken me all this time to realize what I’m meant to do. I’m going to save the world.”

Realizing that she has no past to speak of beyond that Christmas on Ruby Road, she needs to look forward to her future, her purpose.

And in a way this all sort of parallels the Doctor’s story with his past. He’s an “adopted” child with no idea of where he’s really from, but that just means all he can do is look forward to the future and what he’s going to do with it.

Hell, not to get too conspiracy theory, but it would also explain the music choice in the primary trailer. Changes by David Bowie is about how you can’t change time but time changes you.

That’s my working theory, at least.

#DW spoilers #my thoughts #15th Doctor #Ruby Sunday #Ncuti Gatwa #Millie Gibson #The Maestro #RTD2 #Series 14 #I refuse to call it series 1 #Ruby theories

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yestrday · 3 months

Text

: ̗̀➛ LOVE BITES. yan! isagi yoichi / gn! reader / yan! kurona ranze

you don't know what to do but spit fire and hate at two kidnapping psychos who can't even keep their lips off each other. they could at least have the decency to not do it in front of you :/

+ waaaah idk this writing feels lazy but i love love loooove poly yanderes and i wanted to try exploring it...

( once again. how do kissing scenes work. slight bl00d. poly relationship. implied other poly relationships who are also out to getcha )

ever since their blue lock days, kurona had always been isagi’s partner-in-crime. of all the partners yoichi could have chosen, he who had came later in his life was the one who won isagi’s trust and hand. and now he and isagi conquered together– in every match, in every television appearance, and now most importantly, you.

“kurona,” isagi murmurs, his delicate yet calloused fingers running up and down your bare hips. called by his silent command, kurona leans in closer, and his lean body presses itself on your shivering back. there is a silent intimacy in the air, simply indescribable by words. alone in the shadows of their shared living space, with only the occasional sliver of moonlight whenever the curtains flutter, the three of you press your heated bodies together.

isagi casts his gaze upon him, benevolent and possessive. it’s a cross between the kind off-field isagi and the cruel maestro of the court, and kurona finds himself shuddering under his gaze. “kurona,” he calls again. “talk to [your name] for me, please?” he sends him a pleading look, obviously disappointed that none of his attempts to consoling you is working. “i think they’re still scared of me.”

“mmm, is that true, [your name]?” he nuzzles into your nape and hugs your waist. your breath hitches when you feel his fingers dig into your skin– not harsh and blood-drawing as you expected, but well, who can blame you for your paranoia? “why’re you scared of isagi? of me? hmm?” your nape is soft against his nose, and he lets out a content sight. “we’re taking good care of you, aren’t we?”

you can’t help but whimper when he finally places all his body weight on you, treating you like a mere plushie as you’re now squished between isagi and kurona. “that’s right,” isagi hums, idly playing with your hair. “whatever you want, you can ask. we’re pros now, [your name]. we can buy you anything you want.”

you bite your lip, sending a teary glare up at isagi. he smiles so kindly, just like the kind boy you once cheered on blue lock tv. you can feel kurona’s gentle touch on your stomach too, and keenly aware of how capable he is of hurting you with just one clench. “i want to go back home.”

kurona and isagi share a quiet laugh. “everything except for that, that is.” the blue-haired boy even has the gall to send you an apologetic smile. “sorry.”

“we need you here with us,” kurona whispers, as sweet as he can be. his teeth graze against your nape once again but before he pulls away he takes a nip at your skin again, with more warning than the last. “you’re our prize, our trophy, our love. all of us love each other, yeah? you love us, and we love you too. how could you handle being away from us?” he has the gall to say all of this like it’s fact, imposing their feelings on you even when your face contorts into disgust with every delusion he spouts.

“i don’t think i would wanna live without you and isagi,” kurona whispers into your skin, as if sharing a secret. isagi’s one arm slings itself around kurona, now having the two of you huddled in his arms. “i think i’d die. yeah, i’d die.” sometimes, you think that kurona might just as much of a prisoner as you are. isagi likes to play nice all the time but both of them know how cruel and manipulative he could be, and how tightly he has kurona wound around his finger. but you watch as isagi smiles endearingly at the boy, pressing a kiss on his lips. then when he pulls away, kurona lets out a low whine, isgai’s breath hitches, and he dives in again for yet another albeit messier kiss. you cringe and look away.

chuckling, isagi gently holds the back of your hair— slightly squeezing the strands as warning— and guides your vision back to them. isagi is watching you from the side of his eye, smirking as he continues with that messy and drooly kiss. kurona struggles to even open his eyes, too pleasure-struck as he leans into the kiss. “watch, [y. name]. you could learn a lesson or two,” he chuckles. “kurona’s always so good for you and me. you should see what you’re missing.”

“i’m not missing out anything,” you sneer, though you’re only speaking to air as isagi redirects his energy into making out with kurona. “you two are sick. keeping me here and subjugating me to your every whims. you’re perverted psychos, that’s what you fucking are.”

kurona’s eyes slant slight, looking somewhat like a kicked puppy as you spout venom at the both of them. isagi just looks more amused than anything and he finally releases kurona from his hold. the sharp-toothed holds both of your hands in his as he looks up at you pleadingly as he presses your cold palm against his cheek. “[y. name], you’re here because we want to protect you. everyone out there wants a piece of you… kaiser and ness… nagi and that millionaire. isagi just wants the best for you.” he presses a soft kiss to your palm. “for the both of us.”

you want to refute this, that the only reason why they locked you away is so their other equally psycho competitors won’t find you and take you for themselves. but kurona’s eyes and gentle acts have a way of prodding at your heartstrings and you feel like you were falling for this stupidly effective manipulation tactic of his. so instead you sigh and look away from him, gritting your teeth with hardened eyes.

“now, now, don’t be too stubborn,” isagi laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “you’re going to be with us for a lo~ng time. might as well learn how to love it.”

you bite your lip to silence yourself and watch as kurona smiles gently at you, nestling himself right beside isagi’s head. “love you so much, both of us,” he murmurs into your skin. his sharp teeth graze the soft flesh, making you stiffen and your fingers dig into isagi’s thigh in alarm. “you’ll accept our love, won’t you?”

“of course they will, kurona,” isagi affirms, not even waiting for your response. “don’t feel too guilty.”

a silence between them happens, sharing some sort of secret message you’re not privy to. soon, kurona’s lips twitch into a smile—

and his teeth dig into your neck, blood seeping from the broken skin as you scream at the pain. warmth shoots through your neck, something trickles downwards and under your shirts, and you stare wide-eyed at the ceiling as you hear nothing but your own shallow breaths. kurona hums beside you, licking the marks in apology, and one fearful glance at him has you flinching at how he licks the blood from his lips with that ever-gentle expression.

“looks s’ pretty on you, kurona,” isagi says appreciatively, pressing down on his lower lip with his thumb and kurona opens his mouth so he can get a full view of the mess within his mouth. “must taste really good, huh? especially with the way you’re blushing.”

he’s right, your mind manages to comprehend. his eyes are lidded as his tongue swipes at his teeth to get every drop and the blush on his pale face tells you just how much he’s enjoying this. the man’s a sick pervert. how could i fucking forget?

“don’t be so angry, [y. name].” isagi swipes a trickle of blood from your skin and presses it against kurona’s lips, who too eagerly sucks on his finger to get more of the taste. “it’s the least you could do for hurting kurona’s feelings. our feelings.”

you don’t quite have the energy to even bite back. in defeat, you slump against isagi and close your eyes to the sound of kurona’s hungry slurps and isagi’s encouraging moans.

sick fucks.

maybe you should let yourself get kidnapped by reo. better the collar than getting bitten. probably.

#yandere blue lock #blue lock #yandere x reader #yandere isagi yoichi #yandere kurona ranze #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #kurona ranze #yester.writes

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mingtinys · 9 days

Text

lost for words

pairing : lee jihoon x gn!reader

fluff , drabble , ultimate simp jihoon

warnings : none

word count : 0.6 k

requested ? no

a/n : this is what i imagine it would sound like if woozi wrote his own "shall i compare thee to a summers day"

Jihoon is nothing short of talented. A maestro amongst artists and a musical prodigy to his peers.

He can pluck strings until they sing and make his fingertips fly across piano keys in a way that makes them melt together into a symphony. He can breathe life into a school child's recorder that could charm a brewing storm and he can fit together words like a jigsaw to reveal a lyrical masterpiece worthy of the Louvre. Trust, Jihoon has no qualms over his musical competence.

But how is it that he struggles to find any combination of words suitable to the occasion? Why now does his brain falter when it thinks of ways to encompass just how much he loves you? Not a dictionary in the world would be adequate enough to measure that of which he feels.

Because what he feels for you could not possibly be contained to ink on paper, you're much too special for something as archaic as that. Everything about you is so breathtaking. An enigma he's simply been blessed to experience in this lifetime. Jihoon could carve your likeness into crystal under the moonlight and it wouldn't be nearly as mesmerizing as the real thing.

Jihoon believes you outshine even the brightest stars against a jet-black sky. He'd choose the ones in your eyes to stare at for hours over the Milky Way in a heartbeat. Your voice sings a sweeter melody than Apollo's harp on a warm summer day. One he wishes he could capture and play on a loop for all of eternity. If all of history's greatest composers put their minds to one piece, still, they could not conduct a symphony worthy of your essence.

And, oh, how you call his name has him hearing bells. You light a fire inside him like flint dragged across steel— like a bow across strings. Your hand fits into his palm like the bout of a violin and he can't get enough of the harmony you bring to his life. Just your presence alone grounds him in ways he never knew possible.

When he kisses your lips, Jihoon can taste a song so decedent it leaves him full for days. Soft and delicate touches that crescendo into passion personified pluck at the strings of his heart in the late hours. The feeling of his arms around your waist as you sleep provides an indomitable security. Your even breaths fan against his collarbone like a lullaby, easing him to sleep. Then, when he wakes, you're still there, greeting him like a songbird.

You are his muse, his life, and everything more.

Jihoon understands now why so many of history's greatest ballads are written for lovers. Because the human language is a fickle thing. Always changing, never quite perfect, unsatisfactory in the eyes of man. Music lives on for centuries beyond their composers. It is, by all definitions of the word, immortal. There will always be someone to enjoy its tune and pass it down for years to come.

A song is but a time capsule of the memories that brought it to life. And Jihoon is not a man selfish enough to deny future generations of your beauty. He would write a song a day if it meant cementing your memory in history.

If only he could find the words.

"Are you ready?" Seungcheol's deep voice pierces through the thin silence.

"Not at all." Jihoon inhales as deeply as he can in his suit that feels one away thread from being too tight, then exhales slowly. The parchment with his vows crinkles and folds at the bend between his fingers.

The words in his palm are no soliloquy, but his heart bled them with every ounce of love he could muster through shaky hands. And the gold band on his finger is a gentle reminder he has a lifetime to spend writing ballads in your honor. There are only two words he needs to worry about right now.

I do.

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fromchaostocosmos · 4 months

Text

We Need To Talk About The Oscars

Or more like I a Jewish person need you non-Jewish people to listen and actually hear me and other Jewish people when we talk about Jewish representation and utter lack of it in media.

I know that you think there is Jewish representation is media and I know many of you think that is probably an over abundance of Jewish representation in fact.

But having characters occasionally say oy vey, or kosher or mazal tov even though they are not Jewish is not representation. Saying schmear or a yiddish word here and there again usually by non-Jewish characters is not representation.

Having characters who we only know they are Jewish because it comes up during xmas episodes and they mention Hanukah like once is not representation especially if they are not played by Jewish actors.

Having canon Jewish characters stripped of being for tv shows or movies is not representation. Having a canon non-Jewish character made Jewish, but by doing so it plays it really harmful stereotypes and tropes abouts Jews is not representation (i.e the penguin in the animated Harley Quinn Series being made Jewish even though he is not all while not having Harley be Jewish even though canonically she is).

Having Jewish actors play villainous roles all the time especially ones with certain overtones is not only not representation it is actively harmful.

Having non-Jewish actors play Jewish characters and people is not representation, no matter how far back they may or may not have some Jewish ancestry perhaps.

There are three movies nominated for multiple Oscars about three real Jewish people. Not one of those films bothered to get a Jewish actors to portray these very real Jews.

Maestro has Bradley Cooper portraying Leonard Bernstein, Golda has Helen Mirren portraying Golda Meir, and Oppenheimer has Cillian Murphy portraying J. Robert Oppenheimer.

All three actors are not Jewish and yet all three portrayed Jewish people in their films.

All of three films are being awarded for their antisemitism, because that is what this is, with a bevy of award nominations from the Academy. Even if one does not go home with Oscar to be an Oscar Nominee still comes with prestige and seal of approval.

Both Maestro and Oppenheimer are being awarded with the Best Actor Nomination for their choice of non-Jewish men to play Jewish men.

Golda and Maestro have been awarded with the Best Hairstyling and Makeup Nomination despite both films heavy use of prosthetic makeup of their non-Jewish actors in order to make them "look more Jewish".

This is disgusting. This is antisemitic point blank. Hollywood as an industry has always been antisemitic and continues to be so. And now it rewards itself for its antisemitism. Once again it is left to Jews to shout into the void about this shameful injustice and hope that others will hear us and help make our voices heard.

This should not be happening still. This should be a wake up call within Hollywood and should a moment to course correct and do better.

Clearly it is not. I do not hold my breathe. I can say what I feel needs to be said and hope and that others see it and understand the truth in what I am saying.

It is time to stop erasing from our own stories and narratives. It is time to start giving us true and meaningful representation.

#antisemitism #hollywood antisemitism #antisemitism in media #jewish representation #lack of jewish representation #jewish erasure

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lovsalvatore · 1 year

Text

Anything?

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Summary: You tell your Maestro that you would do anything to play at her orchestra world tour, you just didn't know about her ulterior motives with you.

Warnings: +18, Minors DNI! smut, nat has a penis, inexperienced reader, blowjob, gagging, cum swallowing, pet names, abuse of authority ig, hair pulling, brief mention of infidelity.

Word count: 4.9k

a/n: thinking of turning this into a series idk ✰ series masterlist, main masterlist

It's the first time in eight months that Natasha has asked you to stay after rehearsals. And deep down you want to believe it's just so you had more time to practice the piano solo you're going to play in a few weeks, but the way she looks at you makes you have other kinds of thoughts.

You have your hands just resting on the piano keys while you wait for her to say something. You played the song she composed over and over again without missing a single note, and yet you believe that something is still bothering her. "Again." she says, looking at the pieces of sheet music in her hands.

"Natasha..." you say in a shy tone, and her gaze turns to your eyes.

"Maestro." she corrects you.

"Yeah, sorry, Maestro." you curse yourself internally for having called her by her first name, knowing that within this auditorium she does not tolerate informalities. But you're so tired, your fingers feel like they're going to fall out of your hands from so many hours playing the instrument, that all you want is to go home, your brain just isn't working properly. "Are you sure you want me to play again? I mean, I think it's already clear that I know this song by heart, I didn't even need the sheets to play it..."

"I know, but I still want you to play one more time." you don't even think about contradict her, even though your fingers are practically numb you're not crazy not to do what she asks. You feel intimidated by her presence, and you know you're not the only one to feel this way around her. Natasha is one of the best known names in the music business for being an amazing composer and conductor, and also for her reputation as a serious, busy, arrogant, and even rude person. But you don't care. Just the fact that you have the opportunity to be part of her orchestra makes all her harsh comments worthwhile. You just want to be like her, a virtuoso pianist. "Am I gonna have to repeat myself?"

You're snapped out of your thoughts and back to reality, realizing that your Maestro is staring at you seriously, just waiting for you to keep playing the piano. And you do. You play the song she composed, already imagining the tears of emotion that will fall down the audience's cheeks a few weeks from now. Your fingers — even weak — wander over the instrument's keys almost as if on automatic, again, you have played this song so many times that you can play it with your eyes closed. And you know she wants perfection, you know she wants to push you off to the extreme just to make sure you're not gonna make any mistake. And you smile internally knowing that you're successfully proving to her that you were the right choice. Any other pianist couldn't be as good as you, humbly speaking of course.

You play and play, the auditorium filled with nothing but the beautiful sounds of the notes being combined. For a moment you think how she manages to create such incredible pieces, you try to imagine how difficult it must be to compose a song. You'd give anything to have that talent, you'd do anything for people to start recognizing you as a famous pianist too. Your dream is to work in this field, even if your parents say that being a musician will only make you poor, you try to ignore them.

"Okay, that's enough." she says, after you've finally finished the piece again. She takes off her glasses, hanging them on the collar of her shirt before starting to walk towards you. You don't know exactly what time it is, but you know it's late enough that your parents must be already wondering why you're taking so long. Yes, you still live with them. "You're really talented, if you keep it up I might even consider taking you on the world tour."

You cannot process everything at once. First, she called you talented, she never, ever spoke any praise towards any of the musicians who play for her before. And second, world tour? Is this really happening? This might be the dream of any musician, to go around the world playing the instrument they love, especially if they're playing that instrument in the orchestra of one of the most famous composers of recent years. "Wait, really?" you try not to sound too excited, but it's evident in your voice how much this news has positively affected you. "Natas- Maestro this is... my god this is like a dream for me."

You see a smile forming at the corner of her lips, but it disappears just as quickly as it comes.

"It's a dream for everyone." she leans on the piano, causing some keys to emit random sounds. She's wearing a dark blue suit today, she always wears suits, yesterday you remember she was wearing a red one. Her fiery hair is normally always tied back in a bun, but this time it's loose, complementing her beauty.Her hand almost touches yours, but then you pull both of your hands into your lap, playing with your fingers. "How old are you again?"

"I-I'm nineteen."

"Nineteen." she repeats, looking you up and down. You try not to feel the tension that builds between you as silence settles in the auditorium, but you also think that this could just be you making things up in your head. Well, she is in fact a really beautiful woman. But you know that being attracted to her would be very inappropriate, so whenever you start thinking about her that way, you end up committing yourself to something else so as not to delve further into that feeling. But sometimes it's not such a bad feeling. Not that you understand much about the whole attraction thing either, you've kissed only one girl in your entire life, never been touched, so this must all be just admiration towards your Maestro. "You must be busy with college then."

"I mean, yes, but I wouldn't miss this opportunity for anything." you say without thinking straight. All you want is to get your degree in music. But the idea of traveling the world doing what you love is just too exciting. You couldn't believe it when she chose you to play the most important part of her symphony this time, during the months you played for her you only played the less important parts. Maybe this is your lucky year, finally your talent can be recognized by other people. "I might just take some time off, get back to my classes after the tour."

"Oh, you're already thinking of alternatives huh?" she says with a chuckle, and you feel your cheeks flush. "I just suggested it, after all you're not the only talented pianist I know."

And all your hopes have just gone down the drain.

"But who knows, it's not something I'm going to discount either. If you play as well as you're playing at the big presentation in a few weeks, you really could be my first choice." you don't quite know what to say, but all you want is not to disappoint her.

You look down at your hands in your lap as silence returns. You wonder how amazing this opportunity would be, how it would make you finally start growing in a career that doesn't even exist yet. At the same time you want to get up and leave, because this annoyance inside you just grows, you don't know what's going on, being alone with her is messing with you and you don't even know why, but you also don't know if she wants you to play one more time or not, so you just sit there in silence.

Natasha on the other hand can't take her eyes off you. From the first time you walked through that auditorium door you caught her eyes, and since then she always managed not to stare at you for too long so as not to make her attraction to you so obvious.

But when she realized that in addition to being beautiful you were also talented, this obsession she had for you only grew, and it became harder and harder for her not to want to have you completely. So in asking you to play the piano solo, she also saw an opportunity to spend more time with her favorite student. She wanted to ask you to stay after rehearsals for weeks now, but you played the song so perfectly that there was no reason to make you stay and practice more. But today, even though you didn't miss any notes, she asked you to stay anyway. And now she won't let you go until she gets what she really wants from you.

You've never looked at her differently, so she knows you don't feel the same way about her. But she doesn't really care either. "You know." she says in her husky, deep voice, making you look up into her green eyes. "There're also other things you can do to get the spot on the world tour."

Your eyes shine when you see your hopes return, and you open a sincere smile. "I would do anything, seriously." you admit without knowing her intentions.

"Anything?" there's a malice in her tone, but you're too naive to notice. She sees a little bit of herself in you — when she was just a teenager who was discovering her passion for music — and that made her feel a connection to you. But you don't know anything about it, you don't know the way she feels about you. For you, it wouldn't make sense for a woman like her to feel the slightest bit of attraction to you.

You stare at her waiting for her to say something, one of her hands starts tapping some random keys on the piano. When her eyes are focused on her act you end up roaming yours quickly over the features of her face, how her red lips call you so much attention. You had thought about kissing her, yes, you thought of her in those ways, but then again, you always threw those thoughts away. You stare at her for so long you think she's noticed, because she looks back at you with arched eyebrows. "There is this thing, that you can do."

"Well... like I said, I'd do anything to get the spot."

She doesn't try to hide her smile this time, and you can't hide your confused expression as she pushes one of your legs to position herself directly in front of you, her body still leaning against the piano. You look up at her, and Natasha bites her bottom lip when she sees your lost puppy eyes. "I think you're really pretty, did you know that?" she brings one hand to your cheek, and you freeze as she starts to caress it. "Bet you have other kinds of talent, don't you?"

"I..." you try so hard to understand what's going on, you don't really know what she wants from you. And noticing all of your confusion only makes Natasha even more euphoric. Her thumb trails across your bottom lip, before slowly sliding inside your mouth. You don't have time to do anything when her finger presses down against your tongue, and you want to not like it all, you really do. This is wrong, but at the same time it feels so right. It is not possible that those doubts you had could be true after all, that in fact she could be attracted to you. It wouldn't make sense, right? It takes you a few seconds to turn your face away from her touch, feeling your cheek slightly wet when her thumb briefly brushes over it. "Maestro... this is... this is inappropriate."

"What?" she asks innocently. "I did nothing."

"You just..." you stare at her in disbelief, and you just don't know what to say to her. You want to get up, walk away and try to ignore this interaction you just had. But something inside you just makes you not move, it really feels like your body is glued to the seat. "I... I must go... it's late."

"It is not." she says, you know she's lying. It must be past ten o'clock, and you still have to take the subway home. But it seems like she doesn't care, and neither do you. "Come on... are you gonna tell me you don't want this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." you play dumb, even now you already have some ideas of what her second intentions might be about. And you're enjoying it, fuck, you really are. You shouldn't, you want to not think of her having you the way she wants to, but the thought of that being wrong seems even more exciting. If you had known that she was also attracted to you, you would probably work up the courage to have done something during all these months that you've been her learner.

"That you don't want me." she slightly tilts her body, making your faces very close to each other. You don't take your eyes off hers, you can see her dilated pupils. "I thought you would do anything to get what you wanted."

"That's not what I meant."

"And what would that be exactly?" her eyes go to your lips, and you end up imitating her act. Her lips so close to yours seem even more kissable. If you just tilt her face forward a little -.

"I know what you want from me... and this... this is wrong, I would do anything but not that kind of thing."

You don't even know if you're really telling the truth right now. You know you want her the same way she wants you, not minding giving up your body in exchange for a favor.

"But I didn't even say anything, you're the one jumping to conclusions here detka." you close your eyes as she starts kissing the pulse point on your neck, lightly sucking your skin, but not enough to leave marks. You despise the fact that this is turning you on, you know she's just taking advantage of you, and you're letting her. "Let's just say this is the easiest way to get you on the world tour." she whispers. "Don't you want this? Don't you want the easy way?"

"I don't know." you say sincerely, whimpering as she turns her attention to the other side of your neck. "This is wrong, we shouldn't, we... Natasha... please..."

You bite your bottom lip hard to prevent a moan from escaping your lips as she lightly bites your neck. You feel the heat between your legs, and you think how deplorable your situation is right now. "Do you want me to stop?" she asks, tucking one of your locks behind your ear. "I can stop, but I don't think that's what you want, right?"

When you shake your head from side to side something inside Natasha changes completely. The thought of you not feeling attracted to her completely evaporates, and knowing that you want her the same way she wants you makes pure ecstasy control her senses. "Fuck..."she lowers her face to your neck again, this time sucking hard. Her tongue roams up your neck, making a tortuous trail to your earlobe. Her breathing is labored, and you get goosebumps as you realize what's about to happen.

She takes one of your hands, leading it to where she'd been wanting this whole time. You can't hide a gasp when she presses your palm against the hard bulge in her pants, and you can certainly feel how big it is. "See what you do to me? Gosh... I have to control myself so much not to be like that in front of your colleagues."

You feel ashamed for doing this, but now there's no turning back. Even if you don't have any experience you want to continue. You want to show her how good you can be at other things, you have so much admiration for her that you would let her do anything to you. Your eyes are closed as she kisses your jaw, and you wonder if she'll kiss your lips but she just pulls back slightly to unzip her pants. "Can you show me how talented you can be at other things, hm?" she asks in a gentle tone, it's like she took the words out of your thoughts. One of her hands on the back of your neck, pulling some of your baby hairs.

"I uhm..." you clear your throat, and nearly choke when she pulls her hard cock out of her boxers. She strokes it slowly in front of you, and you wonder if you'll even be able to take it. It's thick, and if you pay close attention you can even see the visible veins running through it. "I-I've never done anything... I... I'm inexperienced."

You don't know it, but by saying that you made a big mistake. Natasha knowing she's going to be your first just makes it easy for her to do whatever she wants, and she knows you won't have the courage to say no.

"It's okay, I know you're a quick learner." she guides your hand to stroke her, and reluctantly you do. You see some of her pre-cum in her tip, and feel how she gets harder with every move of yours. You have to squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of the sensation in your sex, while your hand goes up and down her shaft. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this, really... you don't know how many times I touched myself thinking about you."

You don't pay much attention to her revelation, all you can do is focus on your hand movements, which gets faster with each stroke. You don't even know if you're doing it right, but listening to Natasha groan makes you think that in fact you are. You never imagined that you would want to have a cock inside you, but at this very moment all you wanted was this. "Hm, just like that." she murmurs, throwing her head back as you press your thumb over her head, trying to spread some of her juices over the thick length of her cock. Your heart races when you remember that someone could walk into the auditorium at any moment and see this scene of you and your Maestro, and that makes you want to go on even more. "Oh baby... I need more of you."

You look up, feeling her grip the back of your neck, propelling your face forward. "Take it slow hm?" when your mouth touch her tip Natasha gasps in anticipation, and not wanting to take too long to make her feel good you part your lips. You start by placing a kiss on the tip of her cock, before slowly circling the end of it with your tongue. Because it's your first time giving someone a blowjob, you try to imagine it's a lollipop, it shouldn't be that hard. You gently suck on her head, closing your eyes when you can taste her on your tongue. "Looks like someone has no time to waste." Natasha smiles, both of her hands holding the hair on top of your head so it doesn't get in the way.

You just keep working your mouth around the tip of it, it's thick and long, you don't know if you can take any more than that. But for Natasha it's not enough. She wants more, she wants all of it. You're taken aback by her rough movement bringing her hips forward, forcing you to take all of her at once, without any warning. You immediately feel the pain in the back of your throat as she pulls the cock out of your mouth just as quickly as she thrusts it in. The sudden invasion makes your body freeze for a second, realizing that she's just here to use you however she wants. And you actually look forward to it.

"Aww sorry, I couldn't help myself kitty. I just want to fuck your mouth until you beg me to stop." tears form in the corner of your eyes as you get used to your now empty mouth, your hand that was previously on her length now massaging your throat in search of relief. "It's alright, I'll be gentle this time okay?"

Even though you don't believe her words, you just nod, watching her guide you back to her cock. When she enters your mouth again you expect her to start thrusting hard, but she slowly moves her hips forward so that only half of her fills your mouth. "Oh fuck, you feel so warm. Go ahead, help me out a bit with this detka, I know you can do it." you rest both your hands on her thighs for balance as your head begins to move back and forth, going as far as you can, which you now learn is not just the tip. The heat inside you only grows, as do the obscene noises of your mouth around her cock. "See? I knew you were a quick learner. I bet it won't take long for you to take all my cock in that little mouth of yours."

Your Maestro's dirty words make you feel your wetness grow, and it won't be long before you start making a mess in your own underwear. You look up seductively as you take half of her inside your mouth, even with a little labored breathing you still manage to hold on, and actually wait for her to start going deeper. "Who knew you could be such a talented little slut huh?" she pulls your hair hard, causing a pleasurable pain in your scalp that just doesn't help you think straight. "Want me to fuck your mouth? Want me to treat you like the good and talented slut you are?"

You pull your head back, letting go of her cock with one last suck on the head before saying. "Yes please." Natasha wants to laugh when she realizes how easy it was to make you totally surrendered to her.

"Oh yeah?" you nod frantically, just wanting to give her what she wants right away knowing that in the end you will be reworded. "Fuck... I'm gonna come so hard down your throat and you're gonna swallow all of it, I don't want a drop spilling out, understand?"

"Y-yes."

"Tongue out baby." you do what she asks right away. Natasha grabs her cock, bringing it to your tongue, which she grinds a few times before starting to slide all of it inside you. She holds your head still as her hips move all the way forward, and you gag when you feel the tip of it in the deepest part of your throat. She stays still for a few seconds, as if she's letting you get used to the size before she starts moving, and unlike before she doesn't wait to start fucking your mouth hard.

You try to push her away in an automatic act realizing that this was much harder than you imagined, but Natasha just ignores it and keeps pushing her cock deeper and deeper into your throat. "Oh your mouth feels so good around my cock, I bet you're soaking wet for me aren't you?." you feel like you're on cloud nine, trying to catch your breath with every thrust. Her cock is so thick that you can even feel it sliding around the corners of your lips, slightly widening them as you try to take it all in. "Can't wait to stretch out that tight pussy of yours, fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name."

She doesn't even have to do what she just said to make you forget your own name. Just the thought of having her inside you makes you forget how your brain even works. The place that was previously being filled by the sound of the piano is now flooded by the noises of your gags, tears running down your cheeks wetting your entire face along with your drool that runs down your chin. "I'm so close... keep taking it... just like the good learner you are." you don't even try to escape her merciless thrusts anymore, you just let her fuck your mouth.

She’s not gentle, not caring at all. She just wants to fuck your mouth mercilessly, see you cry and choke yourself around her dick. “You’re taking so well, are you sure this is your first time?” she asks a little surprised that you aren't complaining so much, even the tears on your cheeks proving the opposite, even the noise of your gags making it clear that it's not being easy for you. “Enjoying this aren't you little slut? Fucking your way up to the top.”

When you listen to her remind you why you are doing this, a little guilt takes over your body, not because it’s an unethical act, but because you don’t regret it.

Even though it's one of the most uncomfortable sensations you've ever felt, you still feel turned on by it. The way she uses your mouth as if you were just a doll to her. How you proved that even though it was your first time doing something like this you still managed to make her feel good. This shit really makes you soak, making you want more.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you start to feel a few drops of her cum land on your tongue, and for a moment you're relieved that it's almost over, because even though you're loving the feeling, it's also too big for you to hold on for too long. "Yeah... fuck that's it... down to the last drop don't forget." Natasha continues to fuck your mouth for some time, and you manage not to focus on the pain she causes you by pulling your hair hard as her warm loads spurt into your mouth. You choke when she comes in the back of your throat, but even though you have a hard time, she stays inside you, forcing you to do nothing but swallow every last drop. The taste of her burns down your throat, which is so sensitive it looks like she fucked it for hours "Uhum... that's it...fuck you did so well."

When she doesn't get her cock outside your mouth you start pushing her by her thighs, but she just presses your head against her even more. Your nose touches her lower stomach as you feel her cock pulsing inside your mouth, the tip of it making it hard for you to breathe. "It feels so good inside your mouth detka, it makes me want to start fucking you again." she says, and you fall into despair, knowing you won't make it one more time. Natasha lets out a dry laugh as she sees in your eyes the fear of her actually putting you through that again, and then in one swift act she finally pulls her hips back, taking out her entire length out of you. You automatically choke in your own saliva, coughing a few times to get used to the feeling of finally having your mouth empty. Your jaw hurt from keeping your mouth open so long while she fucked you, and your eyes are blurred with tears.

The Maestro just stares at you with her still hungry eyes, not believing that she really got what she wanted without having any difficulty. She didn't know you would give in so easily, she thought it would take you a while to accept it, but apparently she was very wrong. And she'll definitely use that to her advantage, knowing you're so easy to have, she won’t leave it to just one time thing, she wants more.

You watch as Natasha tucks her dick back inside her boxers before zipping up her pants, at the same time you run your hand over your face to wipe away some of the drool. You made such a mess, you can even feel some of your spit trickling down between your breasts. You want to ask her if she's really gonna give you the spot on the world tour, but you're completely oblivious — still trying to process the fact that you've just given your Maestro a blowjob — which makes it too hard for you to formulate a complete sentence. "Don't think I won't do what I said." she says, again sounding like she reads your thoughts. "I said this was the easiest way, I wasn't lying."

You want to scream, from happiness of course. You smile at her, licking your lips and getting a little taste of her that's still fixated on you. Natasha puts her glasses back on her face, pulling away from the piano and closing the fallboard to protect the keys.

"But I didn't say how many times you would have to do it to actually get the spot." she brings one hand up to your cheek, stroking your skin so gently it doesn't even feel like she was shoving her cock so hard down your throat. "I've wanted you for so long, once is not enough for me. You're gonna have to prove that you really deserve this spot... with this... I want you to stay after rehearsal tomorrow again."

With that said, she simply turns and walks away. Completely fulfilled knowing that you're going to come back here tomorrow, and give it to her again for as long as she wants it. You sit immobile on the piano bench, wondering if this was all a good idea. You thought it would only be one time, you didn't know anything about your Maestro's secret obsession with you. And as much as you liked it, you're starting to think that even though this was the easy way, maybe this wasn't the choice you should have made. God. She's old enough to be your mother, and for as long as you know, she's married. My God. What did you do.

She's using you, you know that. You know it's easy for her to have you because you're young and naive. And yet you let her take advantage of you. And you hate the fact that you deep down want that to happen again. Because you loved the attention she gave just to you, you loved realizing that you can make her feel that good. But you hated it, you really hated it because you can't wait for her to ruin you again.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #smut #wlw smut #natasha romanoff smut #marvel women #natasha x reader #natasha #natasha x fem!reader #marvel #wlw #it took me days to write this if it flops istg

1K notes · View notes

minimallyminnie · 1 year

Text

Unspoken Words.

I’m trying out a new format for my posts so don’t mind me~

Summary- When Azul focuses too much on work than you, it doesn’t go well. Will he chose work or his significant other..?

Tw: Reader being sad, Azul crying, yes there’s a fucking child

Tags: Gn Reader x Azul Ashengrotto, Gn reader, Yes you are the prefect, Azul being a silly himbo/hj, happy ending, gn child, you can imagine yourself with the kid being biological or adopted, whatever you choose

Enjoy you poor unfortunate souls…

“Azul?” You called out into his study looking for your love

“I am very busy right now. What do you want?” He said, not looking up from his contracts

“They’re…they’re in bed, you don’t need to worry about them but, when will you come to bed?”

He voice displays no emotion as he continues on working

“Not right now. Later.”

You bite your lip and grip the door handle tighter. You wanted him to come back to sleep by your side. But work always was first place in his life rather than anyone or anything else.

“Azul…I…” You look up with a tiny piece of hope that he would look at you but to no avail. “Nevermind…I love you Azzy…” You don’t hear a response back but rather a pen scratching the paper.

Sighing softly, you head to the cold room hurt.

You lie down on the bed, underneath the blankets but yet, you’re still cold.

Taking your pillow, you hold it and just let your tears leak down.

Azul was a smart man. Yes, he overblotted because of various things…but he’s a smart man.

He managed to get his business far and profitable. He’s successful. The Maestro cafe being much further than he’d ever imagined.

Azul has a family and a successful life…

Yes, his family wants to spend time with him but he’s trying to keep everything together so he can grow his business and provide for them.

But…he doesn’t know why his heart feels like it’s yearning for something…

Like he’s doing something wrong, but what is it?

He ends up dozing off in the end.

“Daddy.”

Jade, Floyd, Azul and you are startled by the small child that just walked into Maestro cafe and hugged Floyd’s leg

“Floyd?! We literally took a class in biology to use prote-“

“Let’s not say that in front of the kid!” You cut Azul off

He picks up the child, expecting them to cry

“Ooh~! I could squeeze you to death little guppy!”

“Floyd! You’re going to scare-“

Instead of crying or screaming, the guppy laughs and puts their hands on Floyd’s cheeks

You put the cleaning cloth into the back of your pocket while you and Jade laugh at both of them

“Aww~! Can we keep it Jade? Azul?”

“I think we should since we need more helpers~”

“Cut it out you two, we don’t even know who’s it is!”

“You shouldn’t call a child an it…” You told your friend

Once the youngest hears you speak, they look at you and make grabby hands

And then they call out to you using their name for you

And everyone looks absolutely shocked

“I’m sorry, what.”

“Little shrimpy has a guppy?!”

“Oh great seven, you didn’t tell us this~”

Floyd happily hands the child to you and instantly, they laugh in your arms

“This baby isn’t mine! I swear on my life you three!”

And the twins start to draw closer to you as Azul looks terrified in the back

Until—

“Papa!” The 5 year old reaches to touch Jade’s cheeks

“Jade, Floyd, [Name]! Did you three have one child altogether or something behind my back?!”

“No!” “Perhaps!”

And it happens all over again…

When you four tell Crowley about it, he tells you to deal with it yourself in a paraphrased term until the baby bit his arm

He then says to keep it in Ramshackle or Octavinelle, which to keep Grim from complaining or arguing with the child, you all decided to keep them in Octavinelle

When you asked Lilia about it, he said that the baby was somehow sent to the past and that he was able to get it back at the end of the week

You silently celebrated in your confusion towards the young child. It was Monday so you only had to last until Sunday! Good enough!

After your shift at Maestro cafe, you always went to the vip room with Azul and Jade to see Floyd hanging out with the child

Strangely enough, they didn’t seem to want to play with Azul very much. Going as far as clinging onto one of the Tweel’s or yours arm instead and a frustrated Azul not knowing what he did wrong, rereading contracts

In the middle of the week, you’re busy doing something with the rest of the first years and the twins have to make up a test so it’s just Azul and the small child that for some reason, did not like him.

The child sits far away coloring with crayons, quiet, not trying to bother him to play with them. Like…it’s some sort of burden.

Azul wonders as he writes on another contract what he did wrong

And he finally gets his guts together

Rolling up the paper, he sets it aside and moves closer to the child

“What are you drawing?”

“…My family.” They say quietly, unlike the boisterous yelling they do with the others

“May I take a look?”

“Y’never look when I wan’ you to.”

That perks Azul’s attention up

“Do you know me in the future?”

The child nods hesitantly

“You…you’re my real papa. Y’don’t like me very much though.”

Azul’s eyes widen

“I-I’m y-your father?”

“Yeah…” They stop their drawing and slides it to Azul’s side

There was them in the middle of you and the Tweels. Azul being on the other side of the paper.

“[Child’s Name]…May I ask you why ‘I don’t like you’ in your time and why I’m far away even when I’m your father?”

“Y’don’t play with me. You don’t eat with me n’ [Nickname] at the table, you…you always in your study room working on…c-cont-racts.”

A sniffle comes from the child

“I see Jadey and Flo around more than you…I can see [Nickname] being sad cause y’not there. You..you only care ‘bout work.”

Oh and how Azul’s heart shatters hearing about this. He does get with his crush and have a family, but he took it for granted. Future him took his happy family for granted. The route he’s going now, only focusing on his own profit, will only cause pain.

He cusses in his head.

“No, no, I don’t care about work. Not now.” Azul moves to the child’s side, picking them up into his arms and hugging them tightly

“I don’t know what happened in the future but, I would love you. No matter what. Future me is quite silly so do not believe in him.”

“You…you really wanna be my daddy?”

“I don’t ‘wanna’ be, I am your father. I shouldn’t have taken that for granted. To have a cute mini octopus like you in my life as well as your [Nickname] makes me feel happy. I don’t know what will happen once you get sent back but for the rest of this week, I will give you everything.”

“Pinky promise?” Azul rubs the tears away with a handkerchief as they point their pinky out. He smiles happily

“Pinky promise.” He clasps their pinkys together

After they finish crying, they turn over to the table and scratches the former paper with a black crayon before getting a new one

“Oh? Why did you do that?”

“Daddy wants to be with me! I wanna remake it now!”

“Can I draw with you then?”

“Yeah!”

Needless to say when the three of you rushed over to the vip room expecting the baby to cry or be alone, you all are surprised seeing a Azul with them in his lap, both drawing while having a conversation.

What’s more surprising?

The soft expression Azul has on his face.

Your heart beats a bit faster as adoration pops up in your chest.

Lilia had told you all that after he sent them back, that everyone would lose their memories. With that, Azul used that to his advantage and told you three who the child really belonged to.

The Tweels spent an hour teasing you and Azul about it

When it’s time to say goodbye, Lilia is busy reading the spell while the child hugs the twins tightly

“Bye bye Jadey! Bye bye Flo!”

“Wahh…does guppy have to go…?”

“Unless you want a time paradox or something, yeah they do.” Lilia pats both of twins on the back

Fortunately for you and Azul who were watching in the back, the twins backed off and gave you a moment’s peace with your the child.

“[Nickname]! Papa!” They come up and you both kneel down to reciprocate their embrace

Your eyes lock with Azul’s and for a split second he sees you in a wedding outfit. Your left hand which was laying on top of the guppy’s head was adorned with two rings.

He blinks and sees you in the normal school uniform but can’t help but smile happily at his future family.

“Remember our promise. Ok?” He tells them once you three part

The smaller nods excitedly before standing in front of a waiting Lilia

And thus, he casts the spell. The spell replaces everyone’s memories with what should’ve happened without the child

And they start to progress again…

Azul wakes up, flinching

He doesn’t know how but he woke up from this…strange dream.

Did…did he really only focus on work?

He thinks back to the past few months and his face retorts in horror of the realization

He has. He needs to make it up to his family before it’s too late.

Azul rushes out of his study to the bedroom to see you asleep with puffy eyes

He leaps on the bed, shaking you in near tears

“H-huh? Azul…? What is it? Do you need something—“

He cuts you off with a hug that pins you back to the bed

“Azzy?! Wha-what’s wrong?!”

“Please forgive me. I’ve been a terrible husband and father recently. Focusing o-only on work, how silly of me to lose sight of what I truly love.” His arms tighten around you

“Azul…can’t breathe…”

Azul quickly pulls off of and sits up anxiously. Waiting for you to say you don’t forgive him or divorce him but what comes next is nothing but a soft kiss to his lips.

“I’m just happy that you finally realized it. I was so scared I lost you. But just to note, I’ll kick your ass if you do this again.” You whisper in his ear as you hug him tightly

“I’ll take that anytime.” He then sneaks under the blanket with you and held you throughout the night, whispering to you that he would never leave you again.

In the morning, he asks the twins to take over for him today. They happily agreed, cheering over the phone. Seems like they noticed his change in behavior too.

He chuckles to himself before he feels your presence next to him, rubbing your head into his shoulder.

“It’s rare you cook.”

“I plan on doing this more. Haven’t done this for you two in a long time.”

You laugh and kiss him before you both hear small footsteps in the hallway

“[Nickname], I have brushed m’ teeth by myself!” They stand proud before their shock is evident on their face at Azul’s presence

“Hi little guppy,” You pat them on their head as they look at Azul with hesitation “Good job on brushing your teeth all on your own! Papa is off work today so he can spend time with us. Wanna say hi?”

You look at him and his expression is bitter at how he left you two alone. He catches your glance and sees how you just tell him to try.

He walks towards his kid as you watch the stovetop.

Kneeling down, he held the smaller hands in his.

“I…I haven’t been a good father for you my dear fry. I’m so sorry for that. To pay attention to my work more than my own family was a huge mistake. I wish to make it up to you in any way no matter how long it takes. I’ll look at your drawings, play with your toys, cook your favorite thing. I love you so much. I am so, so sorry.” He looks down sadly as he tells him

“Nuh-uh! You’re my daddy. You are my papa! You said sorry and you wanna color with me! I like that. Jadey and Flo took care of me but you’re my favorite! I love you too!” The child grins brightly at him and Azul wells up in tears again, hugging the small child’s frame tightly.

And a whisper came from them

“You kept our promise. I’m happy.” And they rush off to the table once you call for them to wash their hands and eat.

The whispered phrase nudges at him

‘Was it…truly a dream or did we both experience that…?”

My dumbass kept thinking about how this sounds like The Christmas Carol wayyy too much. Anyways best Christmas movie 10/10, fight me. @demon-lover-669 thank you for the prompt. That was delicious.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x yuu #azul ashengrotto x mc #Azul ashengrotto x male reader #Azul ashengrotto x female reader #Azul ashengrotto x gn reader #angst #hurt/comfort #happy ending #minniemoots #mindlessclow #x reader #gn reader #twisted wonderland x female reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader

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