#//and I just felt that ought to be known ;v;
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SOMETHING UNEXPECTED !!! GEORGE R. X FEM!READER (18+)
summary: their friendship wasn't the only thing that took an unexpected turn. but it wasn't anything that they wanted to complain about.
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, best friends to lovers-ish, dom!george, brief degradation, overstimulation, fingering, p in v, brief impact play, mentions oral sex (m receiving), dacryphilia (???) aftercare, mentioned past relationship, filthy filthy george 🙃
song rec: outside by bryson tiller (i have a driver specific prompt written hehe)
note: so like... george got the dog in him, canonically. also, 20 smut pieces??? 😳 enjoy xx
something sinful (smut) masterlist
a - n masterlist
o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
george russell had always known that her ex was a fucking prick. but to hear that her ex kept calling her, asking for forgiveness was another level of stupidity that george hadn’t expected.
he had been her best friend long before he became a professional driver and he knew her all too well. he listened to her vent left and right— he knew her inside and out.
so george didn’t understand why she was still here, sulking in their booth as if the dance floor wasn’t calling for her. he had managed to get her out of her room and dressed up for tonight— she looked so amazing. so why was she here sulking over some man who wasn’t even worth half of her?
“you ought to let loose, doll,” george leaned and whispered in her ear. her head immediately turned to look at him as he shrugged nonchalantly, “‘m just saying. that man is a prick.”
“i know he is, russell,” she huffed, kicking him lightly under the table. “there’s no need to tell me how much time i’ve wasted on him.”
“well it’s not the matter of the time you’ve wasted on him before,” george told her with a smirk, extending his hand towards her direction as she grabbed it.
he took her to the dance floor, standing behind her as they both danced amongst the sweaty bodies that wished for nothing but to let go of their worries and stress.
the british man continued as he nibbled on her ear, “it’s the matter of time that you’re wasting on him now.”
“george—“ she almost sighed at the feeling of his mouth, making him shush her.
“don’t think about him now, love,” he murmured quietly, resting his hands on her hips as they both swayed their bodies to the club music. “it’s all about you and you're moving on from him.”
“do you treat all of your friends like this, george?” she whispered back, leaning her head back to whisper in his ear. she was intoxicated by his touch and his words. it was hilarious how long before her previous relationship, she was willing to give it up for her best friend— and such feelings resurfaced now.
she loathed george’s presence. his hilarious self, his blue eyes, his being. she hated him because he could make her feel things that friends shouldn’t feel.
his face feigned innocence as he asked, “like what?”
“like you want to fuck and love them more than their exes ever did,” she raised a brow and spoke bluntly. her bewildered feeling hadn’t stopped her from looking up at him with the same curiosity that she held as she asked him.
he was just as shocked as she was, yet he remained where he stood. his eyes darkened at the way her words let those filthy thoughts out, unable to keep his thoughts contained as he answered truthfully, “only when i know their worth.”
“you’ve spoken about how unsatisfied you felt with him,” he continued, his low tone sending chills down her spine as she looked ahead of her. “especially when he doesn’t listen to what you wanted to try in bed— those filthy thoughts of yours that he never listened to.”
“i think about it a lot,” he hummed, his lips still fanning her ear as he spoke, “i think about those days when you overshared your thoughts and your fantasies in bed to me. and how you’d feel about him once that i fuck you the way you want to be fucked— if you’d ever think about him at all.”
she almost whimpered at the words he let out, earning a chuckle from him as george laughed quietly. “you’re worth more than some daft bastard who wouldn’t even give in to your needs for once, darling.”
“george…”
“hm?” he hummed again, both their bodies burning in desire, lust, and prolonged yearning as he held her closer.
“fuck me,” she pleaded quietly, “make my body yours, george. please.”
“who am i to deny you that?” he chuckled again, nipping at her neck this time as he murmured, “don’t worry, sweetheart, i’ll make sure you’re so fucked out that you wouldn’t think of anyone but yourself and me.”
she hadn’t expected this from george.
she had always known that he had his mean streak, but to be on the receiving end of that behaviour was what she hadn’t expected from him. though she wasn’t sure if it was mean of him to keep her body overstimulated from the amount of times he’d given her orgasms just by finger fucking her.
her ex hadn’t even given her any long before they’d broken up.
her legs shook violently as the room was filled with squelching noises, sobs escaping her throat while she kept her head down against the soft mattress.
the white sheets under her contrasted with how he fucked her with his fingers. who would’ve thought that the sweetest bastard to have existed would even be this domineering in bed?
she couldn’t even think right now; she was eager to have his cock inside her after she’d gotten a taste of it earlier.
her pussy throbbed against his fingers as he curled them up inside her, george’s other hand holding her cheeks apart to watch her cum drip down her legs.
“geo- ngh~ god,” she whimpered against the mattress, her head moving to the side to try and get a look at his lustful smile. he seemed to be enjoying himself, fucking her from behind like he hadn’t just given her multiple orgasms in two hours. “pleaseeee— want your cock so bad.”
“oh? you want my cock, darling?” george asked, his fingers still thrusting inside her slowly as she whined. “thought you just wanted to get off?”
“go- no,” she cried out, her legs wriggling against his touch before she moaned at the impact of his palm against her dripping cunt.
“stop moving,” george muttered, “you’re makin’ it hard f’me.”
“george, please,” she babbled incoherently, “want your cock so bad— please, please fuck me.”
she almost cried at the feeling of emptiness when george pulled his fingers out, walking around to pull her up.
george propped her head up against his hand, silently observing the mess that he had made of her.
she always looked so pretty without makeup, he thought to himself. yet there was a sinful part of him that loved the smudge of her mascara and lipstick after fucking her mouth and making her cry for pleasure.
she always looked pretty, but seeing her so desperate and eager to submit to him made him realize how neglected she was before. george could only pity her ex for missing out on her.
“y’look so pretty, did you know that?” george murmured, wiping the stains off her face as he continued, “so eager to lose control of your body— did he ever make you feel like this?”
she felt nothing but haze and happiness that she hadn’t realized he was asking a question. her head snapped when he gave her face a light slap and demanded, “answer me, princess.”
“wh- i—“ she stammered, leaving george to chuckle.
“you sound so pathetic, sweetheart,” he cooed mockingly. “you’ve always wanted to give up your control of your body and he wouldn’t give it— and now you’re so lost that you can’t even hear me. d’ya want my cock that bad?”
she nodded, the grip on her chin restraining her from showing her eagerness as she begged, “yes, yes— please. put it in my mouth— my cunt, please george.”
she didn’t expect this from george— the way he manhandled her body like she weighed nothing as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and bent her over. she hadn’t expected him to bottom out inside her cunt in one swift move, earning a deep groan from him as he swore silently.
buzz… buzz… buzz…
george thrusted inside of her, hearing her scream and cry for more while he slid his cock past through the sensitive spot until his tip reached her cervix.
“oh- fuck,” george swore. “such a good fucking pussy. it’s like you’re made for me.”
“yes, yeah- i— george, please fuck me harder,” she sobbed, her eyes shutting tight as adrenaline rushed through her body. her face flushed at the heat of their bodies as she felt his cock inside her.
“this cunt is made for me, yeah?” george taunted her, “this is mine only?”
“yes, i— god~ fuck— yes, it’s yours,” she moaned, “yours only.”
buzz… buzz… buzz…
george reached for her phone, too pissed off at the vibration.
“good,” he heaved, his hips snapping against hers as she cried aloud. “because i don’t like to share what’s mine— ‘m gonna make sure you belong to me only, got that, princess?”
“yes! fuck! george,” she babbled, “hah~ ‘s yours only, i promise! wanna make you mine a- wanna be yours! god! fuck me.”
“i’m yours, sweetheart— oh fuckin’ ‘ell,” george moaned, “so tight around me. you gonna cum?”
“yes, ‘m gonna— please cum with me, georgie,” she whined, her body slowly convulsing against him as he continued to thrust— his pace now speeding up as they both reached their highs. “gonna cum, gonna cum! ngh~ ah- hah cum with me please!”
“let go f’me darling,” he murmured, letting out a choked sigh as his cock twitched inside of her. she let out a sigh as her body shook, whimpering quietly as she reached her orgasm.
hearing her cry about the emptiness inside of her made george smile, pulling out slowly before gently laying her limped body down on the mattress.
she had only nodded when he pressed a kiss on her forehead and said that he’d be back with a damp towel, her eyes trained on her phone which laid on the mattress.
funny, she thought with a puzzled look, it was on the bedside table earlier.
she took it and saw the first text that she received.
max verstappen: already fucking your best friend after we’d broken up?
max verstappen: i expected better from you.
she scoffed haughtily, eyes finding george’s as he gave her a worried look. she texted her ex boyfriend back quickly.
💗: he knows more about what i want better than you did.
she then tossed her phone aside as george walked back to the bed and started helping her clean up.
“‘m not lying you know,” she mumbled, offering george a grateful smile once he finished cleaning her up. she then said, “when i said i wanna be yours.”
“oh i know you’re not lying,” he chuckled silently, pulling the comforter over her naked body as he snuggled with her. “i also meant it when i said that i’m yours.”
it was safe to say that neither of them had expected to like each other like this, either. but it wasn’t anything that they wouldn’t welcome with open arms.
after all, nobody knew each other as much as they did. not even her shitty world champion ex boyfriend.
♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa
♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1
#george russell x reader#george russell#george russell smut#formula 1 smut#formula 1 imagine#f1 smut#formula one imagine#formula one smut#george russell imagine#gr63#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1#♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut
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I wrote a little thing with Vee and Cygnus! (I hope I’m not too off-base with Vee’s character.) I like your characters a lot and your work was absolutely an influence in making me start writing fics of my own.
(Oh, can I really not put a read-more in a submission? Boo.)
—
“Purpose of visit?” asked the security guard outside the TV Titan’s hangar.
“I’m to deliver an item to engineer Sixteen-Sixty-Eight,” replied the TV-unit ahead of Vee.“Make that two of us,” said Vee, holding up a package that looked very similar to the one being carried by the other TV.
Vee was not displeased to have been called to the Titan’s hangar, but was a little surprised that someone of his calibre was being asked to essentially be a courier. It felt like a waste of his skills. At least he wasn’t alone in this duty.The two TVs didn’t need to announce their serial numbers to the security guard or to each other; their proximity enabled them to perceive each other’s yes-I-live signal, containing their serials and other official designations.
Ah. The other TV was Fifty-Twenty-Two, officially a diplomat to the other two factions, and well known to be in disgrace as a field agent. Vee wondered if this menial job was a punishment for Twenty-Two - and if so, what had he done to earn the same?
Vee and Twenty-Two signed themselves into the Titan hangar, and accepted the visitor passes handed to them by the security guard (clipping them onto their lapels). As the hangar bulkhead doors opened, the two TVs entered the hangar side by side. They nodded to each other in greeting.
“I like your chevron,” said Twenty-Two. “Very chic. Oh - your serial ends in 5. So that’s a numeral V?”“Thank you. It is indeed,” replied Vee. “In fact, that’s my nickname among friends.”
“I have such a nickname myself. Some call me Cygnus.”
“Like a swan? Why is that; do you hiss?” asked Vee.
“It’s been known. It’s actually for the Twenty-Two in my serial - a friend thought it looked like ‘two little swans’.”
Both TVs turned the corner to enter the main hangar space, and made their way along the network of walkways and gantries to where the engineers were currently clustered. The engineers were evidently mid-break: two of them were sparring on the main walkway at the Titan’s head height, surrounded by the remainder of the crew spectating. The Titan itself observed the duel, evidently entertained by what it saw.Vee and Cygnus approached the cluster of engineers, receiving and parsing the collection of yes-I-live signals, until they located the lead engineer, Sixteen-Sixty-Eight.
“Engineer Sixty-Eight-” began Vee.“Oh, such ill timing,” said the engineer. “This match was just getting good. Thank you for bringing these.”
Engineer Sixty-Eight accepted the offered packages from Vee and Cygnus, nodding to each TV in turn.
Vee and Cygnus watched the combatants to see what Sixty-Eight meant by the fight ‘getting good’. …It might have been good by the engineers’ standards, but the two agents (one current, one former) were underwhelmed. The engineers’ steps shuffled rather than danced confidently, and their blade strikes were hesitant, almost shy. They’d be able to take out a surprised and unarmed skibidi, to be sure, but both Vee and Cygnus felt that a TV really ought to be able to do better than that.
Vee noticed Cygnus’s blades twitch and ever so slightly protrude, as if spoiling for a fight, before Cygnus reeled them back in. (“As a diplomat, you really should conceal your disdain better than that,” thought Vee.)
Eventually, one of the engineers triumphed over the other, moving their blade in past the other TV’s failed block. “Do you yield?” asked the victorious engineer.“I yield,” said the defeated one. Both combatants stood and retracted their blades, before fist-bumping in recognition of each other’s skills. The Titan punched one fist into its other hand’s palm in appreciation (gently, to not overwhelm its tiny comrades with the sound).
“The Titan enjoys watching us spar,” explained engineer Sixty-Eight to Vee and Cygnus.“I do indeed,” interjected the Titan. “It’s something I can’t participate in any more, but I can still enjoy vicariously.”
“We’ve time for one more match before we really must get back to work,” said Sixty-Eight. “Could I play the winner?” asked Cygnus. Cygnus was evidently raring to show these nerds how it was done, Vee thought.“Bring it on!” said the engineer who had won the previous match. “I was getting bored from the lack of challenge.”Cygnus and the engineer (Twenty-Four-Fifty-Six, specializing in the Titan’s electrical systems, according to their yes-I-live signal) stepped forward from the ringed crowd into the fighting space.
The two TVs performed the ritualized motion of 'introducing’ their blades – bringing them together until they were almost touching, then pulling them back slowly and smoothly – before stepping back and assuming combat stance.It was barely a contest - Cygnus all but danced rings around the electrical engineer, provoking a chorus of admiring static buzzes from all spectators. Even Vee was surprised by how caught up he found himself in watching the action.
“Do you yield?” Cygnus inevitably asked.“Gladly! I yield,” replied the engineer, displaying an amused emoticon - evidently glad to have met their match.
“We’d better be on our way,” said Vee to Cygnus, once the outcry of appreciative static noises had died down.
“We shouldn’t keep these engineers any longer.”“Oh, but Five, do you really not have time?” asked the Titan. “It’s not often I get two agents in my hangar at the same time. I would like to see you and Twenty-Two spar.”
Vee noticed Cygnus’s screen light up with excited white noise. (“Oh, you don’t know what you’re getting into, do you?” thought Vee.) “Who am I to turn down a request from the Titan?” said Vee. “Twenty-Two, do you accept?”
“Absolutely,” said Cygnus. “Let’s duel.”
The two TVs took their positions and deployed their blades to perform the ritual of 'introduction’. To Cygnus’s surprise, Vee’s blade emerged from the back of his wrist, rather than the inside.
“Oh - you have a uncommon type of blade housing,” commented Cygnus. “I’ve never sparred with anyone with that model. I welcome the challenge.”
The two TVs faced each other in combat stance, then began. Vee moved unhesitatingly, slicing through the air at Cygnus and pulling their blade just short of what would have been a debilitating blow in a real fight.
“You weren’t ready, were you?” Vee graciously gave Cygnus an out.“…No, I wasn’t,” replied Cygnus. (Vee slightly hoped the diplomat appreciated his action.) “Well, now you’re all warmed up,” said Vee, returning to combat-ready stance. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Cygnus fought hard and well, but Vee fought harder and better still, thrusting and parrying as though this was what he was born to do. The engineers watched in rapt delight, making static buzzes of appreciation often.
“Do you yield?” asked Vee, their blade held just short of the strike that would have ended a real fight.“I yield,” conceded Cygnus. “Beautifully fought, Five.” Cygnus accepted Vee’s offered hand to get back on their feet, and the two TVs shared a fist-bump.
“Maybe you could even take on Palindrome,” said one of the engineers (Fifty-One-Seventy-Four, specialising in the Titan’s coolant systems, according to their yes-I-live signal).
“Who or what is that?” asked Cygnus.
“That would be me,” said another engineer. Their yes-I-live signal showed their serial to be Ninety-Seven-Seventy-Nine, making their nickname’s meaning obvious.
“We mustn’t keep you,” said Vee. “Sixty-Eight already said there was time for one more match, and that was two matches ago.”
“…I’ll allow it,” said Sixty-Eight. “We’re ahead of schedule enough, and we rarely get to see Palindrome in action.”
Both Vee and Cygnus wondered just how much of a challenge this Palindrome could be - the other engineers had seemed amateurish enough.“Alright,” said Palindrome.
“I’m a busy engineer, so I’ll spar both of you at the same time.”
“That’s…” Cygnus began, unsure how to finish the sentence.“…Supremely confident of you,” Vee finished.
“No, merely self-aware.”The three TVs performed the ritual of introduction - Vee and Cygnus both looking at Palindrome’s blades to see if there was anything unusual about them that might give the engineer an advantage. Nothing that they could see.Vee moved with precision and was shocked when Palindrome parried his move almost as hard as his initial attack. Cygnus had even less success, forced to go on the defensive and becoming less and less able to even try to get a hit in.
Even with two against one, Palindrome ran rings around both agents.
“Do you yield?” asked Palindrome, a blade poised at both Vee and Cygnus.“…I yield,” Cygnus said.“As do I,” added Vee.
“That was… certainly something.” (The Titan clapped softly in appreciation.)“Best of five?” suggested Palindrome. “I’ll even give you two points each to start.”
“I… think you’ve already made your point,” said Cygnus.“I quite agree,” said Vee. “We’ve taken up a lot of your time as it is. But thank you very much for the opportunity.”
The two visiting TVs said their goodbyes to the engineers and the Titan, before moving to exit the hangar. They wordlessly transmitted a question to each other - just what had that engineer Palindrome trained in before becoming an engineer?
–
AKAJSJKDJFKKHJKJ! LENSMAN!! THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING!!!THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUCH A TASTY TREAT!!! *SHOVES THIS WHOLE POST INTO MY MOUTH*
#submission#lensman-arms-race#skibidi toilet#skibidi tag#LOOK AT MY BOI VEE#AKSKLDJFLGKMKHKJJK#I HAD TO FIX THE FORMATTING DAMN YOU TUMBLR
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Hi I'm asking about ur WIP specifically sacred ground bc I'm v curious~
HII Sacred Ground is a good omens fic i started writing a while after s2 dropped! It's a 5+1 about aziraphale's bookshop being a shelter to others (and to aziraphale)
Here's a couple snippets!
"I'm afraid we were just about to close," he said, not even lifting his gaze from the page.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, it's just that it's raining cats and dogs out there and I left my umbrella at home. Could I just stay here for a bit until the weather clears up? I promise I won't be a bother."
"Oh!" The man looked with surprise out the windows, past which mother nature was giving the streets of London Soho a well-needed powerwash. "Good Lord, I hadn't even paid notice. Of course, of course– stay as long as you need."
"Oh, thank you so much, really."
"Please, it's no problem. Er–" He looked around anxiously before reaching under his desk and pulling out a fluffy, spotless white towel. "Here you go," he said, approaching Dinah. "Do dry yourself off, dear. Dreadful weather out there."
"Thank you so much," she repeated, and took the towel from the man. It was extremely soft when she grabbed it; it might as well have been brand new. What a well prepared shop, she thought, keeping a towel near the door just for occasions like these. She ought to start doing the same. "I hope I didn't catch a cold out there."
The man gave her a look-over. "No, no colds at all," he spoke, and so assertively that Dinah felt inclined to believe him.
It is well known that angels love by nature. They hold a sort of blanket love over all living beings, from the tiniest and most remote unicellular bacteria to the oldest spruce tree in a mountaintop in Sweden. Some people — "people" being one particularly sophistic demon and a bunch more who plagiarized him afterwards — have argued that this sort of impersonal love is disingenuous; since, if you love exactly everything exactly equally, wouldn't that be the same as not loving at all? Angels have said in return that it's actually not like that at all, and refused to give further statement.
Despite this, most angels advise against becoming personally attached to particular living beings, given their propensity towards dying. Then, of course, most angels don't have a problem with this to begin with. They all spend most of their time up in Heaven, only dropping by Earth for occasional check-ins or special events, such as the birth of Christ or the final showing of The Sound of Music. As Heaven's emissary on Earth and therefore the one most jeopardized by this problem, Aziraphale had to pay special attention to said bit of advice, and tried his best to follow it to the letter.
Unfortunately, his best didn't always work out.
The cat arrived on a foggy morning in 1810.
"Aziraphale, if you don't tell me what's going on, I swear to Someone I'm parking the Bentley right through your front door."
"There's no need for such things," Aziraphale protested.
"Then be honest with me. Thou shalt not lie, and stuff. Let me come over."
It was the minute before dawn on a Sunday morning, and the streets were still fairly quiet, devoid of the typical hustle and bustle of day-to-day London. If it hadn't been for this uncharacteristic silence, Aziraphale wouldn't have noticed the faint rumbling of the motor in the background of the call.
"I don't seem to have much of a say, do I?"
#my posts#as always i bit off more than i could chew with this one#so i ended up abandoning it#i'll pick it up though. maybe make it shorter#blue words
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Jumu'ah Sohbet: 10 May 2024
In the midst of uncertainty and sorrow because corners of the world have been suffering dramatically in the hands of other humans... We are still able to connect to Allah in spite of it, especially because of the spiritual purpose we gain from belonging to our Sufi Tariqa (spiritual school), Shukran Ya Allah (Divine gratitude) and Bismillah (with the name of Allah)...
#1. A fellow murid (seeker) posted an undeniable truth where how one perceives the Divine is what one manifests in their being. It exemplifies why so many of us have found emancipation in our deen (faith / religion) through Jamal (beautiful qualities) over the Jalal (overpowering qualities) of Allah!:
"The words we use for the Creator are a reflection of ourselves. If we think of God as fear and shame, we are afraid and have something to be ashamed of…But if we see love, compassion, and kindness, it is because we possess these qualities."
~ Shams Tabrizi - the beloved friend and mentor of Shaykh Mohammed Jaluddin Rumi.
#2. Also posted by a fellow murid was the profound poetry of Hazrat Inayat Khan, whose words cemented the reality of tawhid (oneness of God) through observed or perceived worldly realities in and around us:
"If we say that there are many souls, it is true, just as there are many waves or many rays of the sun; but if we say there is one spirit, it is truer still, just as there is one sea and one sun. The waves are an action of the sea, the rays are a manifestation of the sun, the souls are a phenomenon of the spirit. They are and they are not. They are because we see them, and they are not because there is only one Being."
Above: A beautiful picture of the deeply ponderous Hazrat Inayat Khan
#3. We also learned how deeply connected the martial art of Silat is to Sufism in Islam. Our Guru Rennie reflected that tension is essential between our higher-selves and lower-selves, which is our egos. We thereby increase our awareness. We were further guided by him saying that we ought to do a skill or Jurus (which in Silat is a unifying form / method to encode and convey meaning in a martial context), in a way that we are mindful of the entire movement. This will help us to develop our resilience. Through constant practice is the remembrance of Allah (Zikr / Dhikr) cemented into our spiritual hearts, which defies our inherent forgetfulness as humans (insaan).
#4. Shaykh Nishaat then intriguingly asked us to contemplate on Allah's ability to be an Artist. Your Abbu reflected with me about the known Names of Allah that speak to this undeniable ability:
Al Khaliq - The Creator
Al Musawwir - The Fashioner
Al Mubdi - The Originater
Al Bari - The Shaper
Then your Abbu reflected on an inspirational expression from the holy Qur'an in Surah Al-Baqarah in V 138 which says:
Sibgatullah - referring to the colours of Allah. Who is better at colouring than Allah? He then found varying interpretations, as your Ammu would have done prior to Shaykh Taner's translated edition 😉
V138: We get our colour from Allah. Who is better at colouring than Allah? And we are His dependents.
During my own contemplation as a visual artist in my tertiary education, I strongly felt that Allah is a dynamic Artist where He constantly crafts our lives with Jamal (His beautiful attributes), while enabling us to exercise our free wills. If we surrender to loving Him, He beautifies our lives with His taqdeer (predestination as His absolute decre).
#5. Last Sunday, we conducted a timeous, rich, and rewarding Grief Workshop as a source of needed emotional healing. As a Tariqa, we ourselves have been grieving the loss of our beloved Shaykh Taner. It facilitated our emotional intelligence, also known as EQ.
Above: Your Naeem Bhai handing over a beautiful product of healing that him and your Maryam Bhen have made together. They are the new generation assuming Shaykh Taner's proclamation towards your Abbu and me, that's another "good cheam"!
Despite man's maddening crowds, our Tariqa were thus left swimming in an ocean of gratitude!
Shukran Ya Allah × infinity
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TideFated Comprehensive Timeline
This post is primarily for my own personal reference on this blog ( meaning I would appreciate it if it were not reblogged, and also that it may contradict information found elsewhere ) so that I can stop acting like time is a wobbly thing that doesn’t exist. It covers major plot points/happenings of all the fandoms on this blog in one place, as well as some relevant real-life events for a sense of scale/scope, and is liable to be expanded upon over time, as presently it only covers the bare skeletal minimum. Note that for all PotC dates I have chosen to follow the timeline set by @oceanfoamed [x].
1665 ― Armando Salazar is born
1696 ― Henry Avery makes a deal with Nassau's governor, Sir Nicholas Trott, enabling the beginning of the ‘pirate issue’ on Providence Island. [historical]
1683 ― Honjô Souma ( Joji ) is born.
1686 ― Cutler Beckett is born.
1709 ― Armando Salazar sails into the Devil’s Triangle.
1714-1715 ― PotC: The Price of Freedom
1715 ― Black Sails: S1-S3
1715-1716 ― Black Sails: S4
1729 ― PotC: Curse of the Black Pearl
1730 ― PotC: Dead Man’s Chest
1730-1731 ― PotC: At World’s End
1750 ― PotC: On Stranger Tides
1750 ― Edward Pellew is born
1752 ― PotC: Dead Men Tell No Tales
1754-1763 ― French and Indian War. [historical]
1767 ― William Bush is born
1775-1783 ― American Revolutionary War. [historical]
1793-1794 ― Hornblower: The Even Chance
1794-1795 ― Hornblower: Examination for Lieutenant
1795-1798 ― Hornblower: The Duchess and the Devil
1798( August 03 ) ― Under the command of Admiral Nelson, the British fleet destroys the French navy in the Battle of the Nile. Napoleon’s army is cut off from supplies and communication. [historical]
1798-1801 ― Hornblower: Frogs and Lobsters
1801-1802 ― Hornblower: Mutiny/Retribution
1803-1815 ― Napoleonic Wars. [historical]
1803-1804 ― Hornblower: Loyalty
1804 ― Hornblower: Duty
#meta | a worthy expose#reference | how to tie a proper knot#//tbh half this info is courtesy of the wonderful Holmes- I just needed it all in one place @@#//wanna know something scary?#//excluding Avery's deal with Sir Trott and Nelson's Trafalgar the historical events listed above#//these are basically the only 3 major events of the time period that were covered in my schooling#//and for the most part they were only minimally covered#//which means I have so much research to do just to run this blog & not look like an idiot#//and I just felt that ought to be known ;v;#//tl;dr my middle/highschool education is a nightmare and basically nonexistent
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v-villian denki u say
mhm <33
tags: dark content (-ish?), yandere/villain!denki, mentions of murder, blood, & electrostim, afab!reader who wears a skirt, based off of this || nsfw, minors & ageless blogs DNI.
villain denki who's known as one of the most dangerous killers on the loose, not because he has a high kill count or targets particular heroes, but because of how utterly sadistic and gruesome his murders are. who doesn't kill for a political agenda or because he has a goal, but because he loves the way blood shines on a blade and gets high on the sound of his victims being shocked to death.
villain denki who eventually finds that killing has become a little boring. he laments the fact that they all sound and end up looking the same way—why can't there at least be some variety? who thinks that maybe he just needs a challenge, an exciting obstacle to overcome, and decides to let himself get captured by committing the sloppiest murder imaginable and essentially handing himself over to the police.
villain denki who tilts his head when he sees little old you walk up to his cell. pretty, is the first thing he thinks of. would be prettier on their knees, is the second. who smiles charmingly and raises his eyebrows when you introduce yourself as his therapist, because someone who giggles and mocks the pleas of his victims for his own pleasure can apparently still be helped.
villain denki who, surprisingly, entertains you and your questions. answers whatever meaningless inquiry you have and only smirks when you make an assumption about him. who narrows his eyes slightly when you ask him to describe how it felt, to cut open veins and watch his electricity boil blood into air, because not even the previous interrogators wanted to know how he felt—only how it started and ended.
villain denki who senses there's something familiar about you, something he thinks he ought to know and pay attention to. who lets his mouth form a small o when it clicks for him. the heavy gaze you seem to always have when you ask him about his kills, the harsh swallows and slightest press of your thighs together. the lick of your lips when he stretches and his shirt rides up, and the miniscule tremor in your voice when you ask him what his favorite part of the murders was, and the subconscious leaning of your body towards him when he tells you with a salacious grin.
villain denki who starts dropping small comments here and there about your apparent interest in him and watches satisfactorily when you flush and look away. who notices the gradual shift in your outfits, going from long coats and full pants to sheerer fabrics and tighter skirts. who lets his gaze trail up the length of your legs and pause at the slight dip in your chest, who lifts his eyes to meet yours and smirks at the heat he finds there.
villain denki who starts lying awake at night thinking about you, his mind replaying the sound of you saying his name and the image of your lips curving around the syllables. who shamelessly fucks his fist to the thought of your pussy tightening up around him when he shocks you, who gasps when he thinks about carving his name into your skin and smearing the blood on his tongue.
villain denki who starts incorporating you into his escape plan, because there's no way he's leaving this place without his new little fixation. who laughs when you tell him that you'd never go with him. who gazes directly into your eyes and leans closer into your space, and murmurs, "y'know, you're not a very good liar. i know that cunt's been dripping for me ever since you sat down," and leans back to watch your chest rise faster and your voice splutter excuses.
villain denki who knows that you won't rat him out to the police, and you can try to lie and disagree and cover it up all you wanted, but he knows that once he gets out of this cell, you'll be ready and willing for him to take and corrupt.
#denki smut#bnha smut#denki x reader#this got. stupidly long what the fuck hdjsgsjfhdjf help#anyway villain denki ..... im leaving my window open for you <33 my door is also unlocked <33#also we're pretending he's not being guarded ok don't focus on the semantics#a.answers#[ ♡ ] — mutuals#—poppy!#a.blurbs#a.nsfw#❥.bnha
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Easily Replaced | part 3
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4
Kaz Rietveld didn't need a reason.
You knew this, of course, as you always had, but it was most clear the day you, Jordie, and Kaz stepped foot into Ketterdam. The two brothers were, as long as you’d known them, ambitious. Ketterdam would fuel that ambition.
"For you, Sankta." Jordie Rietveld laughed, and covered your eyes with his hands.
He was thirteen—much too old for you, as you were only eight, and though you were teased back in southern Kerch for hanging around with him so much Jordie was something like a brother to you. Your own parents were gone—your mother a woman who died too young and your father a mystery.
"I thought you were getting me food." Kaz scoffed, plucking the wrapped omelette out of your hands before you even had a moment to see it.
"Kaz!" You shrieked as you tore out of Jordie's grasp, lunging for the food, but Kaz simply laughed in return, looping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you along, sharing the omelette between them.
The omelette stands in Ketterdam were Kaz and your favorites.
"(Y/N), wait." Jordie called and you paused, turning to glance over at him. His expression was wide and happy—the happiest he'd been in a long time, since he and Kaz's father had died. "Welcome home." He said, and you smiled.
"WAIT!" You yelped, lurching into sitting position so fast your head spun.
He was there, you thought, still blinking away the image of Jordie from behind your eyes.
Your heart raced and your eyes stung as you stood, scanning the streets several stories below you. You’d fallen asleep on the window pane after sneaking into your room at the Slat—if Kaz wanted you gone that night, you’d be gone by morning just to spite him. If only so you had more time to snoop around.
You weren’t expecting the dreams again.
You wiped your hands over your face and sighed, blinking away the remnants of sleep and forcing Jordie to the back of your mind. Jordie Rietveld would always stay in the very back of your mind, in the dregs; you’d think about him only during your last breath, and wouldn't let yourself do it one moment before then.
You crept out of your room and glanced around its interior once more, hefting your satchel over your shoulder. You’d miss this place—you’d miss Ketterdam, but if leaving helped keep certain memories at bay and kept a certain someone from bashing your head in it was worth the risk.
Your feet were silent when you finally dropped to the streets outside and ran, taking back-ally's and fire-escapes and rooftops as you traveled across Ketterdam on a route few knew. Your mask was pulled up and your hood rippled behind you, your shape merely a black speck against the moonless sky.
When you reached the Crow Club you ducked the guards and snuck through a window at the top. If there was anything to be known about the heist for one million kruge the Dregs had been murmuring about, Kaz would know about it. And if you were anything you were vengeful, and you’d get that prize to earn your freedom or you’d die trying.
"The Orchid isn't Dime Lions turf." Kaz's rock salt voice reached you and you paused, one foot sinking into the plush carpet of your old friend's office.
"Well, it's a new acquisition." Another voice purred, and your blood ran cold.
You knew that voice.
That voice had haunted you for years.
"You heard it here first." The voice continued, and you dropped into a crouch, tugging your hood over your head as you crept towards the office.
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
Kaz was being held on his knees by a nondescript man with a sneer on his face while Pekka, Pekka Rollins, clutched Kaz's cane like he owned it. Your stomach rolled as you took in Pekka's face and you barely stopped yourself from gagging.
It was him.
It was the man who killed Jordie.
"Now, I know you saw Dreesen," Pekka continued, oblivious to the assassin hardly ten feet away who was contemplating his inevitable death. "You got the jump on whatever job he has. I don't know the details...obviously, just that you have a little travel hazard ahead of you. So. Here's the deal: you can do nothing—walk away from it. I'll tell Dreesen I'm taking over for you." He paused, a cruel smile on his face. "Then we're even."
"Not even close—" Kaz began, and you tensed. You knew the man holding him, touching him, was causing him agony.
You had to stop it. You had decided long ago that Pekka Rollins' death would be slow. You could make it last for hours—could make blades sing until he was nothing left but a scrap on a table, but something fast might have to do.
"The other option is..." Pekka began, leaning forward to press the beak of Kaz's cane against his jugular, and you lunged. "I'll cave your head in with your own—"
"Let go of him." You snarled and, quick as an asp, had one of your many blades nestled dangerously against Pekka's throat.
Kaz let out a sharp breath and tensed as the man holding him pulled out a gun, pressing it to his temple to balance the odds.
"Sankta Riipka," Pekka mused, seemingly unaffected by the knife against his neck. "it's nice to finally make your aqu—"
"Shut up, pig." You spat and dug the blade in deeper, your eyes snapping up to the man next to Kaz. You felt steel against your head and froze—
—you’d forgotten about the other member of Pekka's trio.
"By the time you kill me," Pekka began, oozing calm that made to your blood boil, "my friend here will shoot your friend. And then you." He made to twist in his chair and you tightened your grip, stilling him. You knew you were drawing blood. "You ought to make the wise decision here, Riipka."
"Let him go." You repeated, heart pounding violently, refusing to look at Kaz even as you felt the gun against the back of your head push harder. "Let him go or I swear on all Saints I'll slit your throat right here."
The room was quiet for several beats before the man holding Kaz shoved him, knocking your friend—was he your friend?—to the floor. You made no move to remove the knife—your chest was tight and your breathing uneven. Jordie's face was flashing behind your eyes and this moment, this moment, killing Pekka, was what you had been waiting for.
You could do it.
Why couldn't you do it?
You could—
"Stop." Kaz breathed and you froze, meeting his stare. His face was serious but his eyes—they were filled with pain. "Just stop."
"You should listen to Mr. Brekker." Pekka crooned and your gritted your teeth, biting back a snarl as you removed the knife and swung, knocking the gun out of the man behind you’s hands.
He threw his arms up and froze but Pekka simply laughed, eyeing you like you were a monkey at a circus. You felt small and, for the first time in a long time, like you were eight years old again, sweating with a burning illness and being sheltered by a widow who had no kids of her own.
You felt like you were eight years old, managing to survive the plague and stumbling down to the docks, half-drunk with a barely broken fever and finding Kaz laying drenched in sea-water on a dock, screaming at you in agony.
It was Pekka's fault.
It was all his—
"No one has to die today, Riipka," Pekka smirked at whatever he saw in your eyes and brushed past, chuckling to his accomplices as they left the office and slammed the door behind them.
The room was silent for several moments before you turned, watching Kaz as he stared at the floor, making no move to stand.
"Let me help you—" you began, reaching out to offer a gloved hand but he jolted, deer-in-headlight-eyes flashing to yours.
"Don't touch me." He snapped, face flushing, and the knot in your throat threatened to burst.
He pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and scrambled for his cane, one hand absently on his leg as he winced. It was terrible to watch—he was strong all the time, and so serious but this...
...this was him broken. And you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing it.
"I should've killed him," you started over, hands trembling as you resisted the urge to reach out to him. You didn't know if you wanted to help or if you just wanted, needed, his touch. "I should've—"
"You should've been gone by now." He swallowed roughly as his cane hit the floor with a thud, eyes snapping back to yours. "I had it handled. We all could've died tonight because of—"
"Don't you dare blame me for—"
"Well if you had just left when I asked—"
"I'm not leaving you!" You shrieked, yanking off your mask and hood so that you could breathe better. "You can boss me around and yell at me and treat me like Jordie was my fault all you want but—"
"I don't think that," he interrupted, his face stricken as he stared at you. "Saints, (Y/N)." You were silent for a moment, both breathing heavily, before he shook his head and turned away. "If you're not going to leave me alone, at least leave the Club. I can't—" he paused, sighing exasperatedly. "I can't deal with this tonight."
Without waiting for a reply he strode out the door and shut it, locking it behind him so you’d have to leave out the window. You waited for several moments until you were sure he was gone, strode over to the spare couch around the corner and screamed into the pillow until your throat hurt.
@iamnoobmaster69 @emil7y @balmasedas @euphoniumpets @subjecta13-thefangirl @itisroe @thefandomplace @ambrosia-v-black @i-padfoot-things @kaitlyn2907
hiii sorry I know this one was kinda angsty but it’s gonna spice up soon HA
#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x reader#wattpad#shadow and bone#six of crows#angst#Ketterdam#kanej#inej ghafa#jesper fahey#freddy carter#Jordie Rietveld
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The Girlfriend: Spencer Reid
Summary: Spencer's girlfriend shows up to his work one day nine months pregnant
Pairing: Spencer x unnamed woman self insert?
Warnings/Includes: mentions of sex, pregnancy, mentions of breeding kink.
A/N: I was bored, so I wrote this. I don't actually know what it is. Emily Prentiss fanfic out soon.
The BAU knew Spencer Reid had a girlfriend. They were introduced at an event and everyone took their turn shaking her hand and joking around with her. She was quickly beloved by the whole team.
She discussed dressing goth in high school with Emily, conversed with JJ about the thrills of papercuts, talked about Twilight with Penelope, Derek teased her about dating Spencer and she retaliated by making fun of the time he thought he had slept with one of his coworkers simply based on the fact the woman knew his name. Derek was quiet after that.
Hotch asked her about her line of work and both him and Rossi were surprised when she replied, telling him she was a kindergarten teacher. Everyone had been expecting her to be a Doctor of some kind or some super-brained scientist. But she was artsy, witchy, and had fingerpaint under her nails.
Everyone loved her, including Spencer who was more than happy they all liked her, but a little anxious that someone would mess it up. As it turned out, surviving that event and heading home afterward led to a shower, then to a bed, then to a shower again.
That day was followed by more days, then two weeks before all the craziness kicked in. Spencer Reid, shy, sweet, young, had gotten his girlfriend of eight months- knocked up.
People at work asked how she was doing to which Spencer gave the answer. Told them she was good and happy and that they were doing fine, but was reluctant to tell them about her pregnancy. He himself didn't know why- he didn't even notice he wasn't mentioning it.
One day, Spencer made the mistake of taking the wrong bag to work. It wasn't a matter of memory, it wasn't a matter of a brain, it was the fact he and his girlfriend who was nearing the last weeks of pregnancy had identical bags and he accidentally took hers to work.
Spencer called her to bring it in to make the swap because he had a case to leave for in about an hour. Meaning... everyone was about to know about the pregnancy- but Spencer still had no idea that he hadn't told the BAU. It never came up.
She got herself in the car in a beautiful pale pink sundress that was part of her kindergarten teacher's vibe she hadn't let go of even on maternity leave. It had a v-neckline that was formed by the wrap of the fabric and cinched just above her bump to accentuate it through the dress. Pregnancy had been good to her, keeping her skin clear and glowing as well as her hair healthy and gorgeous.
So she walked into the BAU with Spencer's bag and the entire team had their jaws on the floor. They looked at her, nine months pregnant and wondered when the hell that had happened and how the hell Spencer hadn't said anything about it.
Penelope had spotted her first, watching her walk in with the bag and recognizing her from that event nine months ago. "Hey! Long time no-" she had come bustling over to say hi and only noticed the bump until seven feet away and it stopped her entirely. Spencer's girlfriend was a little confused, as Penlope choked on her words and blurted, "Nice to see you again!" As she bolted off to Derek Morgan's desk.
"Hey, Garcia, what's going on?" Emily inquired as Penelope rushed over to the bullpen work area, her cheeks red.
"Spencer's girlfriend- she's here, and she's very very very pregnant. Like 'any-second' pregnant." Penelope gushed. Derek narrowed his brows in confusion before all three of their heads swivelled to where his girlfriend had just walked in. Bag over her shoulder, hand on her stomach, she walked over to Spencer. Emily gasped and rushed from her seat to go tell JJ.
"Spencer's girlfriend is nine months pregnant!" Emily said, still in disbelief.
JJ shook her head, "There's no way. It's only been what, eight months since we last saw her? Spencer would have said some-"
"She's pregnant!" Penelope chirped, peeping her head into JJ's office. JJ got up from her seat the fastest she'd ever gotten up, stumbling with Emily and Penelope to peer out the door at Spencer taking the bag from her and chatting a little before he had to go.
Derek Morgan stood up and greeted the young teacher with a smile and friendly hug that avoided her bump. He congratulated her and then grabbed Spencer by the upper arm as Hotch and Rossi came down the steps to say hello as well.
Spencer was a little confused, being dragged around the corner to the briefing room by Derek. Emily, JJ, and Penelope went to go greet the girlfriend as well, but Spencer wouldn't be there with her. Derek shut the door, "What the hell man, you're going to have a kid?"
"Y-yes, actually. I thought maybe you'd known."
"How could I have possibly known, Reid? If you never mentioned to me or anyone else here that you'd knocked up your girlfriend, how would we know if we don't see her every day?" Morgan wasn't really angry, just a little pissed that Spencer never mentioned it. "I consider the BAU my family and when my family is going to start a family of his own, I would have liked to know. Congrats, man."
Spencer had no idea he hadn't mentioned it until now. The blind spots of a genius brain. "I'm sorry- wow, I really thought I'd-" Spencer was nearly in awe of how he might have missed mentioning this.
"Boy or a girl? Names picked out? Come on, now that the cat is out of the bag, I think you better fill us in." Derek gave Spencer an unexpected hug that nearly squeezed the life out of his body.
The BAU, though they had a case to leave for in thirty minutes, was all sitting around her. There was a small smirk from maybe not-so-shy Spencer when he knew that the team knew he had fucked his girlfriend well enough to knock her up. It was an undiagnosed, mild breeding kink, but he wouldn't dare speak of it.
She sat there, glowing, hands resting on her bump as the team interrogated her. Derek joined them as she and Spencer began to tell the team pretty much all of it so far. Spencer was having a daughter and they decided to name her Andromeda, after the constellation. Penelope was swooning, JJ was intrigued, Emily was still shocked to see that Reid was capable of both doing this and hiding this.
Hotch congratulated Spencer endlessly, Rossi pat him on the back. It felt good to finally have it out in the open, because there was something weighing on Spencer and until now, he didn't know what it was. Now the whole team knew he was going to be a father and that his sweet girlfriend had been fucked well, nine months ago. He still smiled when he remembered that, he ought to be hit in the side of the head.
Then again, there was a lot more in the open now. Really, forgive his bashfulness for slipping away for a moment.
tags: @meep-meep-not-in-a-jeep, @hotchnerundercover
#spencer reid#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#cm#emilyprentiss#bau#fbi#spencer reid imagine#derek morgan#mgg
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Devil like you
Summary: Your boyfriend has a revelation about who - or what - he really is as he invites over a friend to have some earth-shattering, toe-curling, out of this world fun with you.
Pairing : Demon!Namjoon x Reader x Demon! Jimin
Genre : Smut. Pure filth. It be dirty.
Warnings : Threesome, Demon summoning, Overstimulation, Swearing, Restraints, Surprise your boyfriend is a demon, Dom!Namjoon, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Reader, Light Edging, Dirty Talking, Oral Sex (f and m), Fingering
WC : 5.5k
Member : Duda || @biaswreckme
A/N : Hope you enjoy reading this, i’m quite proud of it :v It’s my first AU for BTS, so be gentle T.T This fic is the second part of the group prompt “Hell of a Ride”, each part with our own interpretation, so stay tuned because there is more to come! Any similarities with Supernatural are not coincidental, thank you Spn wikis for the words in Latin and the inspiration for some of the abilities of these demons. And thanks so much @fluffy-fluffu for being the beta ♥
taglist: @sugasbabiie
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You thought you should have known. You thought you should have seen the signs – and there were quite a few, thinking back on your relationship. It should not have surprised you like this. It should not have affected you like this. It should not make you wish for more, waiting for the next time it would happen. It should not… you should not… you should not want this as much as you did, right?
You should have seen it coming. It should not have caught you off guard like that, after all, who teaches this language with this much ease and what seems like almost natural and native knowledge? That should have been the first sign to strike your attention. He was not the first Latin professor in the language department at this university, but he was the best. But this department has a lot of languages, and Latin is part of the curriculum for some of the other languages. It was not weird to have a Latin professor. It was weird to have someone as hot as Namjoon teaching Latin. Hot, gods, you sound like a teenager again talking about boys and crushes. But yes, Kim Namjoon, one of the hottest teachers in the university – and it is a big one – teaches a dead language.
So when he asked you, the English teacher – not the only one in the department and you did not consider yourself to be one of the best-looking teachers there – out on a date, you said yes. It had been a while for you, issues with an ex left you being cautious about entering new relationships. It made you pay more attention to certain red flags, but there were none with Namjoon, at least not like those from before.
Kim Namjoon was considerate. Kim Namjoon was creative with his dates. Kim Namjoon was a romantic man, one that had you indeed feeling like a teenager dating for the first time, sneaking around the empty halls and classrooms, the butterflies in your stomach wild and making you giggle at the mere thought of him. Kim Namjoon paid attention to you and your problems. Kim Namjoon listened. And Kim Namjoon was great when it came to sex. Great actually did not really translate how incredible and mind-blowing sex with him was. He knew how to do things to your body like no one ever could before. He suggested some things – some kinky, oh, very kinky things indeed – to spice up the sex that you had only fantasized about but never had the courage to ask for, and he did not judge anything. It was almost as if his mission in bed was to give you utmost pleasure, even if it hurt sometimes – but it always hurt so good. Kim Namjoon was the perfect boyfriend. Maybe too perfect, so you think to yourself that you had ought to know better. No one could be this perfect. There had to be an explanation. And there was. You just never would have imagined that it would be this explanation.
The day had started just like any other, there was nothing special about it, at least to your knowledge. So why, oh, why did it have to be on this day? (Maybe you could ask them later.) You woke up to your alarm, as usual. You love your job, but you always found it difficult to get up this early in the mornings, so you always made sure to set more than one alarm. You got up, had breakfast – “breakfast” is a very general word, but you do eat a piece of toast while the coffee machine warms up. You had a shower, just a quick one to truly wake you up and get you going before getting dressed in your usual teaching outfit. Namjoon would be coming over later, so you would have time to shower again and get dressed up for date night after getting back from the university. You grab a travel mug on the way out, pouring the hot coffee in it, the smell invading your apartment just as you like it.
The classes go on without any issue; a slight problem with the projector in the beginning but nothing out of the ordinary and that would strike one’s attention, especially if one was used to dealing with the projectors in that older building the languages and literature department was stuck with. You crossed paths with Namjoon once the entire day, walking down the hallways of the old building; you were getting out of an English literature class, Joon going to teach his Latin II group. As your bodies got closer, both of you nodded in acknowledgment as if you were any other professor, but your hands discreetly touched in passing, just a small sign you had agreed on to let the other know everything is okay, have a good class, I love you, I will be waiting for you later. You knew he was going out on a field trip with an advanced class and he would have to leave during lunch, so you ate a sandwich in your office, watching some comedy series to relax and get energized for the rest of the day – of course, the hot and new cup of coffee helps -, every once in a while, pausing to chat with the other professor who chose to do something similar. The afternoon is not really that different from other Friday afternoons; no one usually comes during office hours, so no one came on this day. You spent your time alternating between counting the minutes on the ticking clock to be able to go home and get ready for the date and responding to some emails, starting the term report, and downloading some articles to read. You were alone in the office, so you have some music going to help distract you and try to make the time go by faster.
When you finally got home the first thing you did was hop on the shower again, but now taking some time for yourself, phone blasting your favorite songs as you washed the day away from your body, cleaning, shaving what you wanted, moisturizing with some shower oils Namjoon gave you and that you know he loved the scent of. You spent some time choosing your outfit for the evening, knowing it had to be good. You opted for a white lace and silk playsuit, the new lingerie that Namjoon had recently given you, and you knew it had to be expensive from the brand – expensive and fancy lingerie was a guilty pleasure you had that somehow Namjoon was able to indulge, and you had no complaints about it. It gave you an almost innocent look under the black dress, and you were curious to see Namjoon’s reaction. You did not do much for hair and makeup, choosing instead to keep it quite simple and natural – it was only going to be ruined later on anyways.
Soon you heard the bell ring and you looked at the small monitor near the door, letting him in. His hair was slicked back, giving him an edge that was not present in day-to-day life at university. He had his earrings on and paired up with his silver-rimmed glasses and that black blazer made him look unbelievably hot and so different from the pristine almost clumsy-like image of Professor Kim. He kissed you, murmuring a hi in the kiss, letting his hands roam over your dress. He paused and stepped back enough to look at you.
“Are you wearing the new gift?”
It only took a nod from you to have him pressing you against the wall, hitching your leg up and around his waist. His hands took advantage of the position and touched your skin, going up your thighs and bunching up your dress in the way, giving him access to feel the lace and silk on your body.
“Fuck,” he paused, almost breathless, “fuck the reservation, right? I need you now.”
You nodded in affirmation, almost as out of breath as him, “Fuck the reservation, fuck me instead.”
He didn’t need anything else to press you even harder against the wall, hoisting both of your legs; you wrapped them around his body, and he pushed his hips into yours, you could feel how hard he already was. You moaned into the kiss, his hardness was right against where you needed it the most, and when he started slightly moving his hips into yours, it made his length deliciously drag against your clit. The feeling was also enhanced by the lingerie; every time Namjoon canted his hips up, it made the lingerie move up together and tug on your skin, and it did not take long until it was snugged between your nether lips and you were certain you were staining the front of Namjoon’s pants with your wetness as he started nibbling on your earlobe, sucking and kissing your neck, the skin caught between his teeth to make sure it would leave bruises. And then he let you go, dropping your legs from around his body.
“Do you trust me?” He looked into your eyes, seeming unsure, which was unlike him. You could swear that his eyes got darker for a brief moment – and not in the way writers usually describe, with eyes darkening with pleasure or something akin to that. No, it seemed that they physically turned darker, almost black, but you thought you must be imagining things. It could not be humanly possible.
“I trust you, Joon.” You said without any hesitation, fingers entangling with his and taking him in the direction of your bedroom.
He started by taking off his glasses and carefully putting them on the wooden nightstand, taking a minute to take off his blazer and carefully drape it over the piece of furniture. He then turned to you and you felt nervous, his walk almost predatory towards you. He gripped your shoulders, taking the straps of your dress into his hands, and it felt like he was considering just ripping the piece out of your body and your breath faltered. So this was the mood today. But he must have thought better and let his hands caress the front of your body, squeezing your breasts, his fingers then gliding over your clothed nipples, feeling them harder under his touch. His hands moved down, grabbing the edge of your dress in his fists and then lifted it up and off your body, and then you were there, standing in front of him, the white lace and silk that covered your skin seemed almost virginal when contrasted with the current mood. You bit your lip, looking at Namjoon, gaging his reaction, and you saw his eyes widen, a smirk crossing his lips, his tongue unconsciously poking out to lick his top lip. There was a different look in his eyes, one that you did not recognize at all, and you were getting slightly more nervous now. What did he have in store for you this time? You tried to think back to conversations you had, discussing ideas in between cuddles and kisses on the bed, after one of the times you had some passionate lovemaking, his eyes glued to yours the entire time, his body encompassing yours, protecting you. Not every time was kinky, but there was no doubt tonight was going to be. You took a deep breath and stepped forward, your fingers going to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, slowly, your fingers shaking in anticipation.
“Remember when we were talking about maybe having another person in the bedroom with us?”
His question took you by surprise, your fingers stopping mid-action, and you looked at him. “Yes?”
“You are going to learn some things about me tonight, Y/n, but you don’t need to be scared.” He grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers and kissing them while looking into your eyes. “I promise everything will be okay, and I’ll answer all your questions later. Now I just want you to enjoy yourself.”
And ok, now you were worried, and he could see that in your face, so he brought you closer to his body, hugging you, and your arms tightened around his body.
“You don’t have to be scared, love. It can be scary, but have I ever hurt you?”
“Well…” you started, giggling at the double possibilities to answer his question.
“I’m talking about real harm, Y/n. And might I remind you, who asked to be spanked again?” He chuckled, shaking his head, the mood getting a little lighter. “I can’t promise it’s not going to frighten you at first but keep an open mind. You have your safeword, you can stop this at any time, no matter what.”
“Ok. I can’t promise I won’t fear whatever it is… because you are scaring me a little bit, Joon. But I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me like that.” You raised your head from where it was resting on his chest, looking into his eyes again, and this time you could not be mistaken. They were black. Like black black; you could not see any of the previous colors in his irises, even the sclera was taken over by the color, and it hit you. You took a quick step back, letting go of his body, shocked. Was… was this real?
“I’m still me,” his voice was soft and his hands raised by his sides in that universal sign of I’m not going to hurt you. “It’s always been me.”
“So you’re not… possessed?” you laughed in disbelief.
“No. It’s always been me,” he repeated, taking one step closer to you with one of his hands reaching out, and hesitantly you grabbed it. “Let me show you. I promise you will have a good time.”
Your body was still shaking with fear when you let yourself get closer to him, but his words were starting to reassure you, calm you. If he had always been like this and never harmed you, you would be okay, right? The fear and worry were slowly starting to give way to curiosity and some slight confusion when he started muttering some words under his breath. Now, you did not understand Latin – it was a dead language, come on –, but you were able to pick up that he was almost chanting in it, words like te invoco, spiritus, infernalis, and daemon being spoken with more intensity. He finished saying it and kissed you deeply, his arms encircling your body and pulling you to him, when you suddenly felt another presence behind you, a second body pressing against you, feeling a hard chest pressing you into Namjoon even more. You stopped the kiss, looking over your shoulder, and your eyes stumbled upon another black-eyed figure. This man, this demon, was shorter than Namjoon, but with the way the front of his body was glued to your back, you could feel he was just as muscular, maybe even more, from what you were feeling from his thighs. There were no words for his face. You thought Namjoon was handsome, but this man’s face was on a whole other level of beauty, with those rounded full lips that would give Namjoon’s a run for their money. If it were not for his black eyes you would dare say his face was angelic even, with his light-colored hair parted in the middle. But something about the smirk and raised eyebrows let you know that there was nothing angelic about him.
“Damn, Namjoon. You’ve been hiding her this entire time?” He almost growled, shifting his hips, and you felt the hardness in his pants. “If I’d known, I’d have come sooner.”
“And this is Jimin, Y/n,” he started, scoffing at his… friend? “Now close your eyes and let us take care of you.”
He did not wait for an answer from you, and at the same time his lips found yours, you felt Jimin’s lips on your neck and his hands on your waist, and you could only sigh, close your eyes, and give into these new sensations. The two pairs of hands were roaming your body; the contrast of their clothed bodies against yours, almost naked, was heightening the sensation of your powerlessness, and you had to press your thighs together in an attempt to bring some pressure to your center and relieve some of the aching. You could feel their smirks when you did it, and then Jimin’s hand traveled downwards and on the front of your body, his fingers sneaking under the lingerie to feel your wetness.
“Fuck,” his voice was almost strained, “she’s dripping, Namjoon.” His fingers went all over your mound spreading your wetness around, careful to not touch you for too long to tease you.
“Is this right, Y/n?” Namjoon asked against your lips, then tilted his head back to look at you, his hand joining Jimin’s. “I know you get wet for me, but if I had known you would be dripping like this, I would have brought Jimin much sooner.” He stated as his fingers toyed with the straps of your playsuit, slowly lowering them. “And you are wearing this, today of all days… all in white…”
Namjoon’s fingers teased your nipples lightly at first, just caressing them while Jimin slowly lowered the lingerie down your body, giving open-mouthed kisses to your back and lower and he went down on his knees behind you. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back and grabbing Namjoon’s biceps for balance when Jimin lifted your left feet first then the right, letting the playsuit fall to the ground off your body. You felt a pinch to your nipples, and you sighed, and shortly after you felt his tongue circling it, then his mouth sucking on it, tugging lightly with his teeth. You clenched your legs again, only for Jimin to spread them. You felt Jimin’s breath on your backside, and his hands made you arch your back so he could see you better from behind, but you felt nothing else but his warm breath very close to your center, his hands gripping your thighs from the inside to stop you from closing them. When Namjoon used the fatal combination of pinching down on a nipple harder and biting the other and sucking on it, Jimin chuckled.
“Do that again, Namjoon. She liked it, she just clenched down on nothing so hard.” His mouth was so close to you yet doing nothing, and to worsen the situation, he used his hands to help you spread your legs more. “Tilt your ass towards me, Y/n, I want to see you clench like that again.”
You did so without hesitation, arching your back more so he could see you better, and when Namjoon did it again, inverting touch and bite to the other nipple, you clenched again, needing their touch, needing something. And he combined pulling your nipple with his teeth with his other hand entangling in your hair and pulling it down hard, increasing your arch. You heard Jimin chuckle softly again and then his mouth was pressed to your inner thigh, licking upwards as he moaned, probably tasting the wetness that had started dripping. Namjoon was not being gentle anymore, using the amount of pressure and strength he knew you loved, much rougher than when you were making love, your nipples becoming more sensitive and abused under his ministrations. This moment, with his lips around your nipples, his teeth worrying them, while Jimin licked your thighs, was pure and unadulterated passion and desire. You let one of your hands fall to grab Jimin’s hair to try and direct him, but he let one of your thighs go to wrap his fingers around your wrist while he bit down on your thigh. You moaned in pain, but you loved it.
Your other hand moved from Namjoon’s biceps to the front of his shirt to undo the few buttons that were left, and he paused what he was doing to help you. When you went to unbutton his pants, you felt your arm being pinned to your back by the demon between your legs. You looked back and down, seeing Jimin licking his lips again while he got up. He pulled you against his body, murmuring that tonight was about you and not to worry about them. As he said these words, Namjoon’s long fingers undid his own pants, hooking them under his underwear to take them off at the same time. His erection slapped softly against his stomach, his cock long and thick, the bulbous head already a little wet with precum. He stepped out of his pants, his strong thighs flexing, and he came closer to kiss you again, letting you feel his hardness against your belly. He started to pull you towards the bed, turning your bodies so you could fall against the mattress with him on top, but he did not stay long. He got up, looking at Jimin, and raised his eyebrows.
“You look so innocent like this, wide-eyed looking at us about to devour you,” Jimin started, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, putting on a show for you.
The dark shirt Jimin was wearing opened to reveal toned muscles beneath, ones you had already felt against your back. His light purple hair was slightly messy from your attempt to grab it; his lips were turned up into a corner smile observing the way you were watching him. He let his hands caress down his body, feeling his own muscles, his luscious lips open now. One of his hands went to the button of his pants and the other grabbed his crotch, showing you the outline of his erection, and then he took the black garment off, and he was wearing no underwear. His hand went to his erection again, stroking himself up and down slowly, showing you his body and how proud he seemed of it. His cock was just as beautiful as the rest of him, the head a light pink color, and while he was thinner than Namjoon, he was just as long and curved upwards, and it made you wonder if he could hit that spot without much effort.
“We are going to destroy you, and you will take it all. You will be lying there on the bed, ruined, a sinner, and in the end, you will be begging for me to come back again and wreck you.” Jimin’s voice was deeper, his black eyes shining under the lights and the promise. And then he looked at Namjoon. “Have you done it yet?”
You looked confused for a moment, especially when Namjoon answered a no and Jimin chuckled. And then you understood. Jimin snapped his fingers and your arms were suddenly above your head, pressed on the pillow. You tried moving them but to no avail. Oh. Your chest went up and down quickly, your breath faster, but you smiled.
“Oh, this is new. Can you do it too, Joon?” You needed to know. Had he been hiding this from you this whole time? He licked his lips and snapped his fingers, and then your legs were up, an invisible force holding them up and wide open, spread apart for them. You bit your lip and clenched down on nothing, moaning softly, your head thrown back into the pillow. “This is fun.”
You smiled at them and saw them looking at each other smiling as well, but you could not even imagine what was going through their minds. Could they communicate like that? You had so many questions to ask Joon later, but before your mind could wander any further, your body was being dragged to the edge of the bed by Jimin, who was kneeling on the floor in front of it. You had never felt so exposed before and so without control, although you knew all you had to say was that one word and everything would end.
“She tastes delicious, Jimin. You’re going to love it.” Namjoon sat by you on the bed, looking down at the other man, and lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “you want to know another thing I’ve been hiding? We don’t get tired.”
Namjoon bit your earlobe at the same time that Jimin licked you where you needed the most, from bottom to top. You could only moan loudly and arch your back, your fingers closing into tight a fist and your thighs clenching, but you could not move them. You thought he would make you beg for it, considering all the teasing from before, but he wasted no time and started applying pressure to your clit with his soft tongue, short circular movements alternated with longer licks while his fingers kept your lower lips spread open for him. Unable to move, all you could do was take it, the pleasure intensified by your inability to move your legs; there was no escape from Jimin’s tongue on the underside of your clit, its hood up, leaving it exposed and so sensitive to his probing. While Jimin was doing this, Namjoon began playing with your nipples again. They were already hard and a little red from before, more sensitive, so when he started pinching them again the pain seemed to go straight down to your clit, enhancing your pleasure, and he seemed to know this. He became relentless in teasing them, pinching harder, lowering his body beside you to bite at them, tugging on your nipples and pulling them, letting his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin. Jimin’s tongue was also relentless on your clit, and the first time he felt you getting close to your orgasm, he stopped and looked at you.
“Please, please…” you sobbed and moaned; the desperation clear in your voice as Namjoon did not stop.
“Should we see if she can cum only by teasing her nipples?” Jimin’s voice was playful.
“No, please, please, no, please,” you begged.
“Oh, Namjoon, she begs so beautifully. But is it a no or is it a please, do it?” His tongue was between his teeth, his smile wider now, the look on his face pure teasing. You shook your head negatively, a sob caught in your throat, but he continued, “You’re clenching again, Y/n. I think you can do this. But maybe another day,” you let out a sigh in relief, “another day, when we will tease you for hours, edge you until even our breath will make you cum, how about that?”
Jimin wasted no more time and got back to licking you, making out with your pussy, encompassing it entirely with his mouth, and the moment his lips closed around your clit to suck it, you lost it. It took you by surprise; the sensation usually begins with a slight tingle on your belly, and then it spreads to your fingers, but this time your whole body clenched as pleasure overtook you, his tongue continuing to press on your clit while he sucked to prolong your orgasm. You did not know what sounds came out of your mouth, as your ears seemed to be ringing, numb to sounds. You could barely murmur out a weak stop, but he ignored it – which also relieved you, you did not really want to stop–, choosing to insert a finger and then two into you, moving them in and out at first and then pressing them upwards, looking for the spot inside you that made you see stars. You were about to say you were too sensitive for him to continue when he found it, and as you moaned loudly you heard Namjoon say something to him, but you couldn’t understand what it was, but Jimin’s response was to increase the pressure of his fingers and let your clit go. You were confused for a second but you soon understood when you felt one of Namjoon’s hands moving down, his fingers then making quick movements on your clit, knowing it was what you needed to get you there fast again. This time you felt the sensation growing, a tingling on the tips of your fingers, your toes, as it grew and permeated your entire body again. You thought they would relent, and then you remembered what Namjoon had said. They did not get tired.
You lost count after the fifth orgasm, or so you thought it was the fifth; your voice was hoarse from moaning and your clit was so sensitive from all of the overstimulation, and they did not seem like they wanted to stop anytime soon. You could feel the tears that had escaped your eyes wetting your cheeks, and every once in a while, one of them would lick them away while the other continued his assault on your clit, the pleasure relentlessly taking over you again and again. You did not know anymore when one orgasm ended and the other began, the tingling sensation a constant on your entire body. And then, finally, they snapped their fingers again, releasing your body from the invisible restraints.
You could barely move, but they helped shift and turn your body until you were on your hands and knees, Namjoon’s body behind you. You heard the sound of a small foil packet being opened, and then he was pressing inside you, his cock stretching you even though they had used their fingers before. It was always a stretch, Namjoon going in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size before starting to thrust his hips into you. On his first thrust forward, you opened your mouth on a moan and Jimin took advantage of the opportunity to press his cock into your lips, holding your hair with one of his hands while the other was at the base of his cock, holding and moving it to go over your lips. You licked around his engorged head and then opened your mouth wider, taking him inside and sucking. You could barely keep your body upright, so soon your hands faltered, and you fell to your elbows, the dip in your spine changing the angle slightly and it had Namjoon pressing into that one spot that had you almost screaming. Jimin lowered his body, sitting down with his legs open to fit you between them, inclining his body backward, bending his elbows to have a good view of you, and it made it easier for you to suck him. His view was nice, your body bent forward, your ass being held by Namjoon’s hands while he pounded into you, but your view was not bad at all.
Jimin’s muscly thighs flexed each time he pressed his hips up, fucking into your mouth, his abs clenching, and his face… his face, dark black eyes half-closed, mouth open in a sly smile, licking his full lips still wet with your taste. You maintained eye contact while you sucked him, bobbing your head up and down, sucking hard when his head was about to leave your mouth, and when you went down, you let your tongue lick the underside. It was sloppy, saliva leaving your mouth, making him wetter and easier for your hand to help whatever did not fit your mouth. You were moaning around him, figuring he would like it as much as Namjoon did, and you were rewarded with high pitched moans from Jimin, his head now thrown back. On a hard suck downwards you felt his thighs clench and his release spill on your mouth at the same time Namjoon played with your clit, and you screamed and soon saw nothing else.
You did not know how long you were out, but when you came to your senses again you were lying on your front, covered by your blanket, and Jimin was nowhere in sight. You heard footsteps entering the room just when you raised your head and saw Namjoon with a cold bottle of water and pants on. He smiled tentatively at you, sitting by your side on the bed. He helped you sit, propped up against him, and you took the bottle from his hands, feeling thirsty.
“Hey,” his voice was almost shy, so different from before and from the usual Namjoon. Well, the Namjoon you thought you knew. “Are you ok?”
You nodded, smiling softly at him between sips. You looked around and then looked at him, the question clear in your eyes.
“Hm, Jimin’s gone now. He helped clean you up and left, we… we did not know if you wanted him here for the after. Or if at all. Or… if you still wanted me.”
It was strange, seeing this difference in him. Namjoon was so confident, especially in the bedroom, and after finding out the truth about him, you could not imagine he would ever be this timid.
“I still want you, Joon,” you could barely speak, but you wanted to reassure him, hugging him tightly. He needed you at this moment as much as you needed him. “I just have some questions, but I still love you.”
“I love you too, Y/n. And I’ll answer whatever you want.” He was eager to respond, his relief apparent in his voice.
“The first question is… can we have fun with Jimin again another time?”
#bts smut#bts demon au#namjoon smut#jimin smut#bts x reader#demon namjoon#demon jimin#demon au#bts poly#namjoon#jimin#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#ssscentral#sssc#bts x you#namjoon fanfic#jimin fanfic#namjoon imagine#jimin imagine#park jimin x reader#kim namjoon x reader#biaswreckme#duda
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Chapter 8: Unexpected Sojourn
𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁
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“[Name].”
You flinched when your name slipped from his lips. Venti furrowed his brows in worry and slowly knelt down before you, reaching his hand out to brush your cheek. You crawled backward before he could touch you.
Fear had once again found you. It spoke to you in its cackling voice. It told your legs to go weak, your stomach to lurch and your heart to ache. Your eyes averted from his own gaze. You don’t want to look at him.
You fear facing the unknown Venti in front of you. What happened back then still lingered inside your head. Those cold and ominous orbs when he looked at you made you shudder. You know that intense gaze wasn’t meant to be directed at you, yet it scared you so much the more you think about it.
His heart ached to see you distancing away from him. It feels so cold, like concrete drying his chest. It was unexpected for him to experience a heartbreak— top of the world one minute then cut down the next. Why is that? Is there a part of him that you dislike seeing? You do know that he’s trying to help you, right?
“[Name], what’s wrong?”
He softly asked, his voice sounded so pleading. As much as he wanted to near you, he kept himself in place to prevent you from keeping away. You have always imagined him holding you so many times, but now more often than not you find the future you seek is an empty shell.
Things have changed abruptly— he changed, so fast, you worry that he might not be able to control himself in front of you.
“It’s nothing…” You muttered. You said you aren’t scared but he can see your body movements are tighter and your yearnings reduced. Your smiles were shorter and silence longer. You didn’t even look at him as you said that.
Venti bit his lip as his face contorted. He so badly wanted to wrap his arms around you and just bury his face on your hair, taking in the fresh smell you have, yet you were scared. Scared of what though? He doesn’t know the answer to it. Was it because of Boreas?
“Please look at me…”
He begged. There was something in his voice, a pain behind it. You watched. You watched his eyes and then you knew. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered knight aimlessly lunging his sword, scared for his life, lonely, and desperate.
His emotions turned jagged and his insides tight. He wanted to cry out and reach out to you. Love him, sit with him, hold his hand, say his name, look into his eyes, and say you love him. He waited, heart in his mouth, hoping you’ll come back to his arms.
It hurt you. It hurt you to see him like this. The emotional pain in those green gems swelled you with guilt that you’re staying away from him. You impulsively extended out your arms and apologized.
“I’m sorry,”
Venti blinked in surprise yet he didn’t hesitate to come to you. Your arms were wide open, welcoming him in, and he immediately entered them then wrapped his arms around your waist so tightly.
His hug is stronger than anything you’ve ever known as if holding you wasn’t quite enough, he has to feel every ounce that you are pressed into every ounce that is him. In that moment of a feeling of you so close has awakened him, more alive and relieved than he has been in so very long.
He nuzzled onto your neck, feeling safe against you. Your warm hug took the pain away and just let himself melt and be comfortable. You slowly reached up to his head and caressed his dark locks.
“I’m sorry…” You repeated. “I… I thought you’re mad at me.” Your gaze darted downwards with your arms falling back to your side. Your eyes remained glassy for a moment and that’s when he finally connected the dots together.
You were scared seeing him furious. It’s an emotion he never really shows it often and is rare for him. This side of him was uncommon to see and you’ve never seen him felt like that once in your life of knowing him for all these years. Anger, pain, sadness— so intertwined that perhaps his name is ought to be tweaked to reflect the true origins of these emotions.
Venti pulled away and looked at you, his eyes calmly searching yours. He raised your chin to make you look at him and pressed his forehead with yours. “I’m not mad. And I’ll never ever be mad at you.” Warm hands then cupped your cheeks and when he spoke, you can feel his warm breath against your face, and it’s just now you're realizing how close you two are.
“I’m worried about you,” The distance between your lips were just a few centimeters apart, almost brushing together. “And I don’t know what to do without you being here with me.” He was firm and gentle as he pulled you in and it caught you off guard the moment his lips brushed with yours. In that kiss was the sweetness of affection, a million thoughts condensed into a moment.
He laced his fingers with yours and tugged you close to him. You never quite figure out the beauty of his lips was more the softness of their association with the words he spoke. He always loves being near you, touching you, and holding you in his arms. His warmth would seep into your being and comfort you without ever opening his mouth.
You’d melt onto him easily as you belonged next to him as he belonged to you. And each time before you part, the aching to be in his arms would begin anew.
—
“Say Aether,” Paimon started catching the traveler’s attention as he stopped munching his food. He hummed at her and raised a brow. “Isn’t the Tone-Deaf Bard a little bit shifty this day?”
The blonde swallowed his meal and took a napkin wiping the crumbs sticking on the corner of his mouth then asked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean aren’t you curious to know who this maiden Venti keeps talking about?!” Her face was so close whilst she floated above him. Aether sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This pixie really doesn’t know where to not poke her nose into, does she?
“It’s not our business and we shouldn’t pry onto it anymore.” Paimon puffed her cheeks and stomped her feet onto the air in annoyance. It did irk her that her companion was not interested in this topic, but her curiosity is eating her up.
“Is she perhaps the one he told us in his story?” She didn’t change the topic as she grinned while taking another piece of the Mushroom Pizza. Aether simply shrugged and just ignored her rambles, absently staring onto the wall of Good Hunter’s diner.
If it really was the girl Venti mentioned from the story of his old friend, does that mean she’s awake already?
“Anyways we’re still going to check it out, right?!”
He snapped out from his dazed state, owlishly blinking before looking back at her. “Hm? What are we talking about again?”
“You’re not even listening to Paimon! Well never mind, Paimon can just repeat it to you.” Before she could utter a word, Aether had cut her off. “If it’s about following Venti, we don’t have the slightest clue to where he could be.” His floating companion grumbled and crossed her arms in aggravation since what he said did have a point.
Albeit disappointing as it may be, she did actually hope they could investigate it later. “Bummer…” She muttered to herself and took another bite of the pizza.
Aether rummaged inside his bag and clicked his tongue at the sight of the lack of crystals he currently has. He forgot to collect more to enhance his weapon to the blacksmith, great. He disappointedly sighed and zipped his bag close. Sufficient mora, shortage of crystals. Seems like they’ll have to mine them before he could enhance his trusty sword.
“We’re going to Stormterror’s lair after this.” He announced. “Now? But we haven’t finished eating these yet! We still have another order coming.” Oh, right, the Sticky Honey Roast.
“We’ll eat Sticky Honey Roast first then go to Stormterror’s lair.”
“Aww yeah!”
The wait was fortunately not that too long. The waitress stopped by their table and served them their meals. The sight and aroma of the food made them drool in hunger, their souls wanting to ravish it in instant. The two grabbed their fork and knife, hastily slicing to get their piece, and enjoyed the delish meat feast prepared for them as they shoved a forkful of it into their mouths.
Warm food melted in the back of their throat and Paimon, who was dissatisfied with the size of her spoon, raised the plate to her face, wolfed it down, and licked the plate clean. Her body shook as she belched loud and long.
Aether cringed at her lack of manners in dining, looking away from the other customers who gave them a glance of curiosity at his guide. This emergency food will be the death of him.
After finishing their meal and paying up, the two went off and started their journey to the lair. The embryonic oaks laid upon the grass, their brown eyes a gift to the eyes. He could watch them for a while, these acorns, hoping the silent bliss would extend if not for some group of slimes and hilichurls attacking them.
Fighting was easy and not too much of a trouble for him, a sign that he’s gradually getting stronger. He smiled to himself and let his sword vanish into thin air on his back. Just a few more steps and he can finally gather the crystals he really needed.
The path went onwards and there was much journeying ahead in front of them. He paid no mind to Paimon’s ramblings about what food they should get later. Sheesh, why does she can only think of nothing but food? Just how big is her stomach that can handle so many?
Still, he appreciated her little babbles to distract himself from their quiet walk. His golden orbs then lit up at the sight of the familiar entrance getting bigger each step they take. His leg stopped from leading him and peered at the big tower looming before his small form.
The memories of the Stormterror issue returned to him. The agony and pain the poor dragon was suffering, the blood clot that drastically continued to consume him as he writhes and cries while no one was there to help him. Venti, the Anemo Archon, was there to help Aether in his journey and to aid in freeing Dvalin from being corrupted by the Abyss Order.
They were able to set him free and save him from poison with the help of the Dandelion Knight and Darknight Hero of Mondstadt. Still, even after that incident, there are still no clues as to where his sister could be.
Aether took the chunk of crystal and placed it inside his bag. He heaved a sigh and stretched his arms to ease the cramps formed on his tense shoulder due to the struggle of breaking the crystals from the ground.
“Are those enough?” Paimon hovered above him and took a peek inside as she asked. The blonde shook his head and sled the backpack over his shoulder. “Just need two more and then we can go back.” He took out his map and checked the current location he is in to mark the spot.
“Oh! Paimon remembers there are few over there.” Her small finger pointed on the spot of the map near to where they are and tugged his scarf to make him follow her. Few long strides here and there, his brow quirked when Paimon stopped midway guiding him.
“Uh… are you seeing what Paimon’s seeing?” His brows knitted together at her ambiguous context behind her words. “What are you talking about?” He questioned and looked in front seeing nothing but thin air.
“Over there! Is that a dead body?!” She flew behind him and took a little peek over his shoulder, her form slightly quivering in fear. He squinted his eyes to take a closer observation to where her finger was directing. Upon more detailed inspection, he can faintly draw out the figure that was limped on the ground.
In instinct, his legs immediately guided him towards the figure and saw an unconscious form of a girl the closer he gets. He knelt down and drifted his hand on your chest to check your pulse.
“She’s just unconscious.” He assured Paimon. She sighed in relief and fluttered across you to check your features then back to the area. Something feels off…
“Is it just me or was there always a garden here before?” She remarked, catching Aether’s attention. His eyes wandered to his surroundings and she was indeed right. Various flowers scattered before you, cushioning your body in the grassy field. He remembers that the ruins were only filled with the remains of the old buildings and structures.
He explored this area in and out and never once in his journey does he remember a garden was set up here in just a month. Is someone revitalizing this old lair? Even if it did, he should prioritize first your passed out state and bring you back to Mondstadt for safety.
“We should bring her back with us. It’s too dangerous here.” He told his little companion and before he could tuck his hands underneath your legs, a strong grip on his wrist stopped him from doing so.
He jerked his head in the direction of the owner’s arm, following the white sleeve covered up until to sight of a familiar appearance of a bard standing before him. Venti stared blankly at him with cold eyes. Frightened by his expression and sudden presence, he took in a sudden intake of breath and stumbled backward, his foot slipping from the ground. His shoulders tensed in alarm, the tightening grip on his wrist caused him to wince in pain.
“Venti?!” Paimon exclaimed in surprise and glided away to give the distance from him as she noticed the abrupt ominous aura encircling him.
“What are you going to do with her?” His expression hardened when the traveler remained quiet at his question, so he constricted his hold on him even further to get his attention.
“I said, what are you going to do with her, traveler?” He repeated but with a firm and loud voice. The pixie shuddered in fear at his unforeseen behavior but she quickly stepped in and tugged his hand away.
“We’re just going to bring her to the city to help her!” She exclaimed and attempted to release his restraint on her ally. Resentful countenance flit across his features as his mouth had gone hard hearing her words. Though, he quickly replaced it with a smile and finally let go of Aether.
“I see. There’s no need to do that.”
The blonde rubbed his wrist to ease the discomfort that continued to linger, he was sure of himself it’ll create a bruise on it. His eyes followed to the bard’s small form as he carried you in his arms. You squirmed against him and huddled closer searching for warmth.
Venti glanced at you then back to the two companions. “You should go back now.” His voice was more demanding than they had expected. An order from an Archon himself. Though Aether didn’t budge, he hoisted himself up first then looked at him in utter puzzlement.
“What about her? Is she injured? Sick? You should come with us too if you want to aid her.” Venti clicked his tongue and forced a smile to hide the growing anger that’s boiling up even more the more he talks.
“I can handle her myself. It’s getting dark already and I don’t want you to get lost on your way back to the city.” The small bickering started to wake you and this is not what Venti likes to happen.
As you rose from your light slumber, you are first aware of the coolness of the air and the fresh and loamy fragrance. Your clothes feel damp as a flower in the dew of the dawn. You half wonder if you’re still dreaming as you shifted from your place and sensed your feet weren’t touching the ground.
“She’s awake!” You heard a squeaky voice exclaim near you. Venti raised his hand and commanded the winds to push the two away back to the exit.
“Leave. Now.”
It irked him further when Aether persisted then stared at you, observing your features in silence. If he’s desperate to stay then so be it, he can just teleport himself somewhere else with you as long as they keep a distance from you.
He didn’t hesitate to leave them all alone and not even once listening to what they’ll say as he suddenly disappeared into thin air with few teal feathers fluttering along with the air.
He stopped near the lake and heaved a sigh of relief that he can no longer see them at last. You rubbed your eyes to erase the sleepiness within you and looked up at him, calling his name in a drowsy manner.
“Sorry did I wake you, love?”
He settled himself on the ground and brushed your hair away that was fixed on your cheeks. You blinked and looked around the area to get a glimpse of where you are. Now you were awake, perhaps a little bit awake with a tint of drowsiness still in you. As far as you can tell, you’re trapped in your lover’s arms with birds making their carefree song around you.
“What’s the noise all about? What’s going on?”
Ah, seems like that woke you up. He sighed and placed his head on your shoulder to relax with just your presence. It’s a miracle how your own voice can instantly calm him down after attempting Aether and Paimon to leave the place.
“There were visitors that came here. Quite pesky I must say.”
“Visitors?”
That fully woke you up more than you’ve ever been. “No need to worry about that. It’s not really important. Get some more rest, you’re tired after what happened after all.” He kissed the top of your head and pulled you close to snuggle against him. You enjoy the feeling of his warm body next to yours, causing you to be sleepy once again.
He carefully shuffled to find a comfortable spot and looked at you. Your features were much softer in sleep, more youthful than ever no matter how many millenniums of years passed by. It reminded him of your heavy slumber while he waits for you to wake up.
But now, he doesn’t need to worry if you’re still in a comatose state. You’re already awake, with him and finally together. He can easily check up on you all the time as long as he’s next to you. He could soak in all that you are forever and still be right here, still wanting more. It is infatuation, but what is love without it? Desire, passion, and true love are threads of the same emotion, a perfect recipe for his attraction for you.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere venti x reader#venti x reader#genshin impact venti x reader#genshin impact venti#venti#genshin impact reader insert#elliwrites#Illusory Sense
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“Are you paw-sitive this is alright?” Selina half-purred half-asked. The slender cat thief was dressed casually— for her, anyway— in a floor length amethyst purple gown that swept just barely above the floor, accentuating her curves and coming down in a deep V neck that was just barely within the constraints of being acceptable for public appearances. Her companion, almost half a foot shorter even in her short heels, was a stark contrast. It was as if all the two women had in common was their hair color, a rich deep black that shimmered blue in the right lighting.
Marinette, with her hair done up in two buns and wearing a sensible pink-and-white cheongsam top with apple blossom embroidery paired with an ankle-length denim skirt that had a knee-high slit in the front, nodded even as she eyed her friend’s choice of outfit with a small frown.
“Of course. Bruce is in the media’s eye all the time, and he knows I don’t have a care for the spotlight. But you do,” Marinette stopped talking for a second, snapping her fingers and reaching into her purse. She pulled out a gorgeous inch-thick collar necklace that was made entirely of thick panels of flawless silver and high-quality diamond. At the very center of the collar necklace, where it would hang right in the center of Selina’s collarbone, was a diamond-and-obsidian cat face. “I knew I was forgetting something! Bourgeois owed me a favor for doing the outfit for her last magazine cover pro bono, so I asked for this as payment. It’s exactly what your outfit is missing.”
Just because Marinette didn’t like revealing clothing didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate someone else wearing one well, after all. And Selina wore her dress perfectly.
Selina quirked an eyebrow, eyeing the necklace with her expert gaze. Gently, she trailed her fingertips over the tops of the diamonds in the thick bands of the collar as a small smile flicked over her lips. She raised her eyes up to Marinette’s, light green eyes sparkling with mischief and knowing.
“You got this as a bribe for me, didn’t you kitten?”
Marinette smiled unashamedly. “I know you’re a proud lesbian, but would you mind playing the role of Bruce’s girlfriend, just for the media? And only while you’re single, of course. If you ever want out, you only have to say the word. Bruce already agreed, but he also doesn’t mind continuing to play the careless bachelor if you aren’t willing.”
Selina scoffed, rolling her eyes and grabbing the necklace. Effortlessly, she swung it around her neck and clasped it in place. “Please, darling. You and I both know it drives you up a wall when Brucie is hounded by gold diggers every time he steps foot out of that mansion of his. I’ll play the camera-girlfriend, but only for a maximum of a year. And you two can only call on me one a week at most, a girl’s gotta have some time to herself.”
Marinette nodded eagerly. “That’s fine! We probably won’t even call on you that much, Bruce is planning to play the ‘we want to keep our relationship pretty low-key’ card for now. Just an appearance once a month or two ought to satisfy those vampiric paparazzi.”
Selina just smiled. She had practically adopted Marinette years previous, during a trip to Paris where she had found out she apparently had a male doppelgänger. Now the two were sisters in all but official (Not-forged) legal documents. And because of that, Bruce had somehow become her brother.
Which Bruce later found out, meant that Selina would relentlessly tease him every time she needed to appear as his “girlfriend.”
Relentlessly.
But Marinette and Bruce had a Plan. She wasn’t quite ready to make a public appearance as his real girlfriend, mostly because of loose ends that still had to be tied back in France. She was making so many trips back and forth between the two countries that they couldn’t see each other in person much to begin with, so they also didn’t want their few in-person meetings tainted by greedy D-rate journalists.
But yes, they had a Plan. One year was the perfect time frame for the last stretch of said plan. Marinette would tie up the last few things she had to do in Paris, start an official branch of her fashion company in Gotham, and they would stage an entire break-up with Selina, a three-month “break” to “recover” and then a suitably dramatic, romantic “meet-cute” between the two of them to start what the media would see as a love-at-first-sight, fairytale relationship.
Nobody needed to know about Marinette and Bruce’s five-year pining session, or their one-year fumble through figuring out how to date one another before actually getting it right, or the most recent three-years of dealing with the fact that they were both highly experienced hero/vigilantes, the leaders of their own hero teams, and highly accomplished business people.
It was a hard relationship utterly riddled with drama, but they had finally reached the stable point where they were ready to commit. Sort of. They just needed Selina to fake-date Bruce in the public eye for a couple months, and then everything would be fine.
—*—*—*—*—*
One year and three months later.
Marinette shifted her purse on her shoulder. This would be her first time in over five years actually setting foot inside the Wayne Manor. She was excited to see Alfred again, and to hash out the last details for her and Bruce’s public “meet-cute.” But Alfred didn’t open the door this time, a short green-eyed boy with an all-too-familiar frown on his face did.
And once again, Marinette knew that Selina was not the mother. Her pseudo-sister was, as she had said so long ago, a very proud lesbian. But Marinette did know of a past fling of Bruce’s who did possess the proper genes to help create a child of this age.
Marinette smiled, pushing her inner rage at the thought of Talia Al Ghul out of her mind. She was still pissed beyond all rational thought when she heard about what Talia had done to Bruce. But this child was not at fault for any of it, only an innocent by-product.
“Hello. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Would you mind telling Alfred I’m here?”
“Tt. Why should I?” The apparently bratty boy asked, crossing his arms and glaring straight at her. Marinette felt her eye twitch.
“I am a close friend of Bruce— Would I be correct in assuming he’s your biological father?” Immediately upon her question, the boy’s eyes widened ever so slightly in shock before his glare intensified. Marinette chuckled. “He didn’t tell me that he adopted any new children, and he always tells me when he adopts. Which means he didn’t have to adopt you, suggesting you are related to him directly. You can’t be a cousin or nephew, he has no living blood family. And all his pseudo-siblings are alive and fine, so you weren’t left to his care in anybody’s will,” she deduced out loud for him. “Plus, the green eyes and tan skin— I know of exactly one of Bruce’s past… suitors… who happens to fit the timeframe and features necessary.”
The boy raised an eyebrow. “Most assume that I am that harlot Selina Kyle’s spawn,” he snapped, but it lacked the same heat this time around. He was now analyzing her face closely, and Marinette noticed. She was careful to keep her eagerness toned down. She really just wanted to see Bruce and be able to hug and cuddle him for the first time in almost a year, and this child was her only obstacle at the moment. A very stubborn one.
Marinette sighed. “Selina is like a sibling to me, don’t call her a harlot. If Selina was ever pregnant, I would have known. Hell, Selina would have given me her baby to raise because she doesn’t have any interest in being a mother. Now, the polite thing to do when someone introduces themselves is so introduce yourself back. Not interrogate or intimidate them.”
The boy huffed, straightening his emerald turtleneck and rolling his shoulders back. “I am Damian Wayne,” he replied imperiously. “And Father has never mentioned a friend by the name Marinette. Which leads me to believe you are yet another no good hopeful suitor, and Father is still recovering after he and Kyle finally split up for good.”
Marinette froze, and slowly her eyes narrowed. “He never mentioned my name? Ever?”
“Tt. I already said no.”
Finally, the shape of Alfred Pennyworth came into view behind Damian. He had obviously heard the last bit of the conversation, because he just sighed and shared a long suffering look with Marinette. It was that look that made Marinette’s eye twitch a second time.
“Alfred,” she said slowly. “Has he mentioned me at all to any of his kids?”
“He has not,” Alfred replied. “And furthermore, Miss Selina would not stop giving him a hard time whenever he had to call her out for an appearance. It seems all of the children mistook their relationship for actually being of a romantic nature.”
Damian spun to the butler, eyes wide and swimming with a multitude of emotions. “What do you mean, ‘actually’, Alfred?”
“He means,” Marinette began before Alfred had the chance. Her eyes were narrowed, matching storms of dark, furious blue. “That Selina was only pretending to be Bruce’s girlfriend so that the press and gold-diggers would leave him alone. And apparently I need to beat some sense into my stupid, idiotic boyfriend, who I should have known would do something like this,” she looked up at Alfred, jaw clenching. “That man would never be able to pass for a functioning human without either you or me keeping his head screwed on. Where is he?”
“Not at the manor currently, Mademoiselle Marinette.”
“Alfred.”
The butler gave Marinette a rather mischievous little grin. “Master Bruce has forbade me from telling you where he is currently, he wanted you to stay at the manor and sleep the jet lag off until he got back. But I can tell you that he is not currently on Earth or on a mission.”
“Alfred!” Damian hissed, shocked that the man would say something so revealing. Alfred was the perfect secret keeper, why would he tell someone Bruce had never mentioned something so telling?”
“Oh, calm yourself Master Damian,” Alfred soothed. “Marinette has known about Master Bruce’s nighttime activities since before you were born. If anything, I believe he rightfully deserves the wake up call he is about to receive.”
Marinette nodded, eyes still stormy and determined. “Alright, so he’s at the Watchtower. The Zeta tunes are still in the Batcave, right?” When Alfred nodded, Marinette wasted no time. She easily slid around Damian and stormed into the manor, finding her way to the Batcave on pure muscle memory and rage.
“Wait, Alfred! I demand an explanation!” Damian’s loud voice slowly grew quieter as Marinette stormed down into the cave, ignoring how Alfred began to calmly explain the situation to the boy. She just slid right in to the Zeta tube, and commanded the computer to send her to the Watchtower.
“P-001, codename LADYBUG, recognized.”
—*—*—*—*—*
Batman pinched his nose from where he stood at the head of the meeting room in the watchtower. The briefing was supposed to start over an hour ago, but Hal Jordan had been twenty minutes late. No surprise there. But still, SuperMan had insisted that they wait until everyone arrived. And really, normally Batman would too. Except that his long time girlfriend was going to be landing in Gotham any minute now, and he would rather be back at the manor to greet her.
And the asinine argument that had been going on for the past forty minutes was finally going to end, even if Bruce had to hogtie every last one of his insufferable coworkers himself and force them through the rest of the meeting strapped to their chairs.
“Okay, can we PLEASE begin the meeting now, or so help me I will break out my kryptonite restraints,” he threatened darkly. He might have only mentioned Kryptonite, but everyone knew that that threat was actually aimed at all of them. Batman knew every last one of their weaknesses and was not above being petty when they strained his last nerve.
Quickly getting the hint, the entire room rushed to fill their seats and at least fake at paying attention. But of course, nothing goes quite right in the life of Bruce Wayne. Right as he turned on the slideshow he had prepared and began the meeting, the sound of an enraged woman’s voice echoed down the hallway in a deafening roar.
“BRUCE THOMAS WAYNE, YOU ARE IN SOOOO MUCH TROUBLE!”
Batman felt as if someone had just shoved him into a cryogenic freezer, a harsh shiver of dread running down his spine. There was exactly one person who could terrify him with a single word, and it just so happened to be the woman he was hiding a wedding ring from.
For the past eight years, but that’s neither here nor there.
“Oh shit,” Bruce breathed, but found he was unable to move from his spot. Yes, he wanted to see Marinette so badly that it hurt. But he also would like to stay alive.
SuperMan leaned forward, not really concerned since Batman would have reacted much differently had the voice been coming from a real threat. Instead, the man leveled his old friend with a very teasing smirk.
“Why is your heart suddenly racing?”
Bruce could only glare daggers at Clark before the door to the meeting room swung open, a tiny French woman standing there in a long, formal white-and-pink knee-length gown with a cheongsam neckline and one of her leaf-green heels held in each hand threateningly.
“You absolute idiot! When I said I wanted to keep our relationship out of the public eye, I didn’t mean to keep me a secret from EVERYBODY!”
“But darling—“ Bruce cut himself off as he was forced to dodge one deadly-accurate piece of flying footwear. “You don’t understand. The boys cannot keep a secret to save their life.”
“They have secret identities, don’t they?” She slipped her other shoe back on. She had known that her shoe never had a chance of hitting, and with Bruce in full Batman gear, even if it had hit him the high heel would have felt like she had only thrown a pillow. Had it been otherwise, she wouldn’t have even joked about throwing her shoes at him. But as it stood, she knew none of the normal things she had on her would be able to so much as make Bruce say “ow.”
Marinette placed both of her fists on her hips, marching up to Batman and pulling him down the full foot it took for him to be able to look her in the eye. His resulting gulp was clearly audible, and visible, to everyone else in the room. “You absolute, emotionally dense moron,” her voice had dropped from a yell to a mildly fond, but still very annoyed, grumble. “Your kids are mostly adults now, you know. And you never told me about Damian either. Did you honestly think I’d be mad?” Bruce looked away from her, which was honestly all the answer she needed. Marinette sighed, letting him go and softening her voice. “You need to trust your kids more, Bruce. I never wanted you to keep me a secret from your family, or even your close friends. Just the annoying ass paparazzi. And trust me a little bit more, yeah? I know it isn’t exactly your strong suit, but I’ve known you long enough that you should know I’m not gonna run for the hills just because you have a biological kid that wasn’t with me.” Marinette risked giving him a slightly vulnerable, lopsided smile. And Bruce immediately deciphered what it meant. His shoulders slumped.
The cost of using the Ladybug Miraculous for so long was that Marinette had to give up her fertility. She could never have children of her own, and Bruce had felt guilty that he had had a biological child, even though he hadn’t exactly consented to it, without her. But now he could see where he went wrong.
Marinette was just happy to have another piece of him to take care of. She never would have resented him for what had happened with Talia. And, seeing all of those facts written on her face now, he felt more than a little blind.
“... sorry.”
Marinette just huffed out a short, soft laugh before grabbing Bruce by the bicep. She turned to look at the other heroes still in the room, half of them uncomfortable with seeing such an emotional display while the others looked like they were incredibly invested in a good soap opera. She shot them a grin.
“I’m stealing him for the next few days, okay? Don’t worry, I’m sure you can make do with making Diana read the slideshow. I know from experience that it has everything you guys need to know and more. Don’t call us, I’ll field all your contact to Agent A!!” With that, she dragged Bruce by the arm out of the room.
To be fair, he wasn’t exactly resisting. Even if the reunion was far from ideal, just having this little bit of contact was extremely relaxing for the vigilante. When they reached the Zeta Tubes, he stopped Marinette and pulled her in for a kiss.
When they inevitably pulled away for breath, he smiled at her. “As soon as we get back, I’ll call everyone in and explain the situation,” he promised. “And then, we can spend the rest of the night doing whatever you want.”
Marinette smiled back, shoving him into the Zeta Tube. “Then get ready, because I wanna sleep off this damn jet lag and I plan on cuddling you like a koala the whole time. No escape.”
“B-001, Codename BATMAN. Recognized.”
“Can’t wait,” he replied right before he was whisked off. The sound of the love of his life laughing followed him through until he reached the other end of the teleportation.
—*—*—*—*—*
@maribat-writing-and-prompts
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Never Enough (4/7)
Sirius Black x daughter!reader
Summary: In the previous chapter, Y/N Black saved her father from death. What is the aftermath of the Department of Mysteries?
Words: 3.3k
Warnings: mentions of injury, mentions of violence, hospital, medical stuff, mentions of death, sadness, self-deprecation thoughts
A/N: You have @heloisedaphnebrightmore to thank. She’s the reason I decided not to end the series here 😂 But I am so excited for all of you to read this. GAH
Also if you want, LISTEN TO THIS SONG as you read on repeat. I swear it makes it so much better. I think of the song as Sirius’ POV. Start it at the point where I've put **
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ofCZObsnOo
Series Masterlist
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
It had been two weeks since Harry Potter and his friends had broken into the Ministry of Magic. Two weeks since the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Two weeks since all twelve Death Eaters, except Bellatrix Lestrange, were captured and sent to Azkaban. Two weeks since the Ministry witnessed the return of Lord Voldemort. Two weeks since Umbridge was removed from Hogwarts and Dumbledore was reinstated as Headmaster. Two weeks during which Cornelius Fudge started to face backlash, ultimately stepping back as Minister of Magic. One week since it was decided that Sirius Black would be given a fair and just retrial for his ‘crimes’.
It had been two weeks since Y/N Black was admitted to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Two weeks since Y/N Black had saved her father, Sirius Black, from death.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
“What are you doing here!?” Ted Tonks glowered.
Sirius glanced away from Y/N, seeming to just realize that there were other people in the room.
“I’m here to see my daughter, Ted,” he spoke, confused at the hostile manner he was addressed in.
“Really? One could have never known,” Ted scoffed back.
Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed in irritation. He didn’t understand why Ted had such a problem with him visiting his own daughter, his own blood.
Andromeda placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, “Calm down, dear.”
“Calm down, Andromeda!? I will not calm down! This man is the reason our baby girl has been hurting these past few years. He’s the reason she questions her worth as a human being. He’s the reason she cried all summer. He’s the reason she’s here in the first place!”
Sirius snapped, “Your baby girl? She’s my daughter!”
“Of course that’s all you’d get out of this. I ought to-”
“What is going on!?” Molly shrieked at the scene in front of her. Sirius and Ted were almost at each other’s throats, wands out ready to throw curses.
“Come on, let’s get you some fresh air,” Andromeda softly said as she dragged Ted away, but not before throwing a nasty look towards her cousin.
Sirius continued to glare in their direction until they disappeared.
“Can you believe them? Just because they’ve taken care of Y/N when I went to Azkaban doesn’t mean she miraculously becomes their daughter,” he huffed.
Tonks looked at Sirius disapprovingly, “She might as well be.”
Sirius watched Tonks storm out, turning around to see Remus, Molly and Arthur looking at him disapprovingly.
“They’ve taken care of her since she was a baby as one of their own. They’ve watched her grow up. Instead of feeling jealous, you should be grateful to them. If it wasn’t for Andromeda and Ted, she would’ve surely been sent to live with the Malfoys.”
Sirius grimaced at the thought of his daughter being raised by such vile people. He sighed before settling down on the chair next to Y/N’s bed. He gingerly grabbed her hand to hold in between both of his.
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Y/N laid in the bed, bandages wrapped around her head and various parts of her body. The bruises inflicted due to the Cruciatus Curse were visible, exposed for all to see. Her body twitched occasionally, an aftermath of the curse and head trauma. The Healers didn’t know if this twitch would become permanent or if it was a temporary thing; only time would tell.
“She hit her head pretty hard. Twice from what we've been told. That doesn’t include the hits she took to her head and other parts of her body from the stone surroundings when she was being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse. There was some internal bleeding that we’ve managed to fix. But all of that blunt trauma damaged her brain.”
“The twitches… will they…?”
“We don’t know the full extent of her injuries. There is only so much we can tell while she is unconscious. We can think about doing anything further only after she is no longer unconscious. We’ve done all we can for now.”
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
Ted and Andromeda walked in to see Sirius sitting next to Y/N’s bed. They paused in front of the bed as he looked up. All three of them stared at each other tensely before Andromeda and Ted moved to sit on the other side of the bed. Sirius watched Andromeda run a hand through Y/N’s black hair, as a mother would. He watched as she untangled her hair and proceeded to braid it to her side, with tears brimming her eyes. The sight of Y/N - the girl who she always felt was her daughter - bandaged, bruised and twitching seemed to start the waterworks. She sobbed into Ted’s chest as he collected his wife in his hands. He held her tightly to himself, trying to keep himself together for her sake. He couldn’t break down now, he needed to be brave for her. He needed to be brave for Y/N.
Sirius watched his cousin being led away by her husband. It was only when they were no longer in sight did he allow his own tears to flow.
**Sirius didn’t regret anything in life, but this was one of those rare moments when he did. His biggest regret was the way he treated his own daughter.
Sirius sat there well into the night, guilt-ridden. It was his fault for her being here at St. Mungo’s. It was his fault for being such a bad father. It was his fault that his daughter had grown up with his cousin, had a parental relationship with someone who wasn’t him. It was his fault for not escaping earlier, or not going to look for her after. His fault for not trying to build a relationship with her once he escaped.
Truth be told he was scared; scared that he’d end up being like his father, scared that she would end up like his family. It was not justified; he knew it wasn’t. It shouldn't have mattered to him that she was a Slytherin, he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. He didn’t know her; he didn’t even try to get to know her. Sirius knew what he did was wrong. If Lily was alive, she surely would’ve beaten some sense into him. He could just imagine his brother and sister-in-law chastising him for his decisions. Sirius had made too many mistakes; mistakes he was now paying dearly for. He let his own fears and assumptions be his and Y/N’s downfall. Now, she couldn’t even bear to live in the same house with him. He had royally screwed up and he knew it.
Sirius wished he could unsay all that he had spoken. She was his daughter and even though they had some bad blood between them, he hoped she would give him another chance. He hoped she would give him a one-in-a-million chance because he wanted to build their relationship back up again. He wanted a chance to get to know his daughter, and for her to get to know him. The probability of any of it happening was extremely low but he would take those odds.
Sirius wanted a chance to right his wrongs, show how sorry he was. But he couldn’t because she was here, unconscious and gravely injured at St. Mungo’s, because of him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” Sirius sobbed over and over again to an unconscious Y/N through the night until he fell asleep from exhaustion.
“I swear I’ll be better.”
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
Three weeks after the battle, Remus walked over to Y/N’s bed at St. Mungo’s. Sirius was sleeping on a chair next to Y/N’s bed, his head resting on her bed. Her hand had found its way into his hair, holding onto it lightly in a fist. Remus was instantly taken back to a fond memory when she was no older than one and half years old.
Remus walked into the apartment of Sirius Black. He carefully made his way through the corridor, to the living room. As he got closer, the sound of adorable babbles filled his ears. Baby toys littered the floor, a miniature toy broom, stuffed toys, dolls, and many other things. But Remus took no notice of the mess as he could only pay attention to the most heartwarming sight he’d ever seen in his entire life.
There was baby Y/N sitting on the sofa in a blush-coloured onesie. Her bright grey eyes were shining with happiness, a familiar twinkle of mischief already visible. Near her tiny legs, that were kicking in a small jagged motion, was Sirius laying on the sofa. He was facing the ceiling, his legs draped over the arm of the sofa. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain old white t-shirt stained with food; no doubt from Y/N being picky and not eating her food. One of Y/N’s tiny hands was bunched up in Sirius’ shoulder-length black curly hair whilst the other petted his head as best as a one-year-old could. Sirius lay with his eyes shut. The affectionate smile on his face giving away that he was indeed listening to the nonsensical babbling of his daughter.
The sight of you both right now reminded him of the good old days. Remus dearly missed those days, when things seemed much simpler and happier - when James and Lily were alive.
“He’s been here since yesterday, refuses to leave her alone for even a moment. Dad tried kicking him out again, but he wouldn't budge.”
Remus turned around to look at Tonks.
“He has always cared for her greatly.”
“He’s never done a good job of showing it though has he? But now that she’s here, injured,” she said, bitterly.
Remus remained silent, pursing his lips together. He didn’t have any argument to defend his best friend. He couldn’t even deny what she had said, they had every reason to resent him and his actions.
Remus stepped up to the bed to shake Sirius awake.
“Padfoot. Wake up. It’s morning, we have to go. We can’t be late.”
Sirius woke up groaning. He carefully removed Y/N’s clutch on his hair before sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.
“What time is it?” he asked groggily.
“Your trail starts in an hour. You need to leave now if you want to shower and change into something else to look more presentable.”
“Right, of course,” Sirius said. He got up and leaned over Y/N, brushing a stray strand of her hair out of her face.
“I’ll be right back, my baby girl. I love you,” he whispered, a loving look on his face. Though, his eyes were swimming with regret at the sight of his daughter laying there injured all because of him.
He pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead trying not to hurt her any more than he already did before hastily making his way out, not sparing anyone a glance.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
Sirius marched back to St. Mungo’s, a slight skip in his steps and a wide grin on his face. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. However, the grin dropped right off when his eyes fell upon the utter chaos ongoing around the room he was heading towards. Healers were rushing in and out urgently. Sirius started to panic, fearing something had happened to Y/N. His eyes moved around the hall to look for someone, anyone. His eyes fell on Ted and Andromeda, the latter sobbing. Ted was unable to hold his tears back as well.
“What’s happening? What’s going on?” Sirius asked as soon as he reached them.
Andromeda sobbed out louder at his questions.
The sound of a bed being wheeled on the floor drew his attention towards the door. Sirius felt his heart drop to his stomach. There was Y/N, her body twitching and trembling. He could see dark red blood staining the back of her bandage and pillow as her head moved around.
“We’ll have to use the body-bind curse,” he heard one of the Healers say as they passed by him in a hurry.
Sirius did not realize that he was trembling, tears streaming down his face, until Y/N and the Healers disappeared around the corner.
“She- we don’t know what happened. She was fine one minute and the n- next… She started twitching and thrashing around and we didn’t know what to do,” Ted informed Sirius in a hoarse voice.
Sirius, Ted and Andromeda sat in the waiting room for what seemed like hours, awaiting any news from the Healers. Andromeda, exhausting herself from all the crying, had fallen asleep on one of the chairs, cuddled up to her husband’s side. Ted’s leg kept shaking, moving up and down. He was becoming restless; it had been too long since the incident and they still hadn’t received any word on what was happening. But no one was as restless as Sirius who had been pacing back and forth the entire time. He didn’t pause for one second, no matter how much Remus tried to convince him to sit down. Nothing anyone said or did would ease his mind. No one except a Healer.
The heavens above seemed to have granted his wish, a Healer walked into the waiting room with a slight smile, “Mr. Black? Mr. and Mrs. Tonks?”
Ted quickly shook Andromeda awake who abruptly woke up. They all rushed towards the Healer.
“Her brain had started to bleed again-”
“You said that you fixed that,” Sirius interrupted in anger.
“Yes, we had. But sometimes the bleeding can start up again when there is substantial damage.”
“Will she be okay?” asked Andromeda worriedly.
The Healer sighed, “She is stable for now. The damage to her neurons is extensive.”
“What- what will happen if she doesn’t get better?” Ted questioned, his voice trembling afraid of the answer he was going to receive.
“We do believe she will. But if she doesn’t wake up within a few days, we can only presume the worst. I am sorry. We can only hope for now. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“Can we go see her?” Remus spoke up as the others seemed too shocked to do anything.
“Yes, of course,” the Healer gave them a reassuring smile, which didn’t fulfil its purpose the least bit, before heading out the door.
Sirius, Andromeda, and Ted regained their senses and proceeded to head towards their baby girl.
Sirius felt sluggish as he approached Y/N’s bed. Her body was thin and frail, having lost weight in the past few weeks. Her pasty skin stood out against the greasy, unwashed long dark hair. Her chest moved up and down in a rhythm that matched her ragged breathing. Her body continued to twitch from time to time.
Ted couldn’t help but break down at the sight in front of her. Y/N looked so close to death. He sat down on the bed next to Y/N, stroking her hair back, tracing the beautiful features of his baby girl’s face.
“You can’t leave me. Not yet okay? Who's going to wake up early with me to go on walks and pick flowers? Who am I going to spend the whole afternoon baking and having food fights with? You can’t leave me here alone with Dro and Dora. Who else is going to save me from their craziness, huh?” he said, weakly chuckling through his tears. “I- I’d be so lonely if you left. You can’t go. Hold on, Y/N/N. Please. If not for yourself then for me. Ple- please don’t leave me.”
Andromeda’s sobs filled the otherwise silence of the hospital room. Ted continued to quietly plead, choking on his own words, “Don’t leave me. Please.”
Sirius sat there in silence, his unblinking eyes fixed on Y/N’s form; watching her chest rise up and fall back down with each breath - a sign that she was still alive and breathing.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
Ted and Andromeda had left once visiting hours were over, but Sirius remained. No one, not even the Healers, could force convince him to leave.
He remained perched on the seat beside Y/N’s side well into the night. His eyes burned from the lack of sleep, but he refused to give in. He couldn’t sleep, not when she could need him at any moment. What if he fell asleep and didn’t realize something wrong in time to call for help? No, he would not allow that. Sleep could wait till he was completely sure she would be alright.
Sirius stared at his daughter, his battling-for-life daughter. Her protruding bones made her more visibly sickly under the shadows cast by the pale moonlight shining through the window positioned at the head of her bed.
Sirius leaned forward, his hand shakily caressing Y/N’s cheek. He brushed back the hair that covered her face. A choked sob echoed through the silent, dark room. The tears he kept at bay all day long fell at last.
“Y/N/N, my baby girl. I’m so sorry for all I have done. And haven’t done. But you need to fight. You need to make it through this. You have so much to live for. You need to wake up okay? You need to wake up so I can make this right. I still want you. I need you. I can't imagine a world without you. I’ll make it right; I solemnly swear to love you all my life. Please just fight. Live.”
Sirius sat there watching Y/N, not daring to close his eyes for a moment in case something happened; in case she stopped breathing. He sat in silence praying that someone would wake him up from this nightmare. If he could only see her sparkling grey eyes that were so much like his; filled with the same mischief, once again he would die a happy man. He wished he could take her place, for he would happily die if it meant she got to live.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
Sirius did not know when he had fallen asleep. His head rested against the edge of the bed and Y/N’s hand had once again made its way to his hair, holding on to it in a loose grip. Sirius was startled awake by the whimper that left Y/N’s mouth as her body twitched once again.
“Y/N? Y/N?” Sirius spoke in a rush, hoping his mind was not playing tricks on his ears. A groan left Y/N’s mouth as she moved around in her bed.
“Healer! Healer! Someone! Anyone!? Please, I think she’s waking up!” Sirius yelled, not caring about the other patients still fast asleep in the same room.
“It’s okay, baby girl. You can open your eyes now. You’re fine. I’m here. I’m here,” Sirius said softly.
Y/N’s eyelashes fluttered, her eyes moving under her eyelids. She slowly opened her eyes. She immediately squeezed her eyes shut, groaning at the sudden increase in brightness. Gradually, she opened her eyes again, blinking to adjust to the sun lighting up the room.
Y/N shivered as a cold draft swept through the unfamiliar room. She looked around the white-walled room. There were around seven other beds in the room, plain white curtains adorning the railings to hide away the bed if needed.
“Y/N?”
Y/N brought her attention to the man standing next to her bed. He was tall and well-built. Shiny black shoulder-length hair framing his fair-skinned face. His unfamiliar-familiar striking grey eyes were scanning her face, concern and worry shining through them as clear as the daylight seeping through the closed curtains. A slight stubble shadowed his face from having spent the night in the hospital. The man oozed a form of casual elegance, tattoos covering his chest and arms. He was handsome, but this was dampened by his prematurely aged face and wrinkled clothes.
“I’m sorry. But who are you?”
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General taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @kashishwrites @remmyswritings @angelinathebook @idont-knowrn @coffee--writes @kinkyduuh @ickle-ronniekins @the-mighty-bookworm @chaoticgirl04 @malfoyspogue @dracofeltonmalfoy @dracosmainhoe
Never enough taglist: @evilluciferisevil @slyther-inn @bloodyxheaven @gcdric @mycobrakai1972 @loony-loopy-lupinn @mads-bri @tessaem @hannah220506 @hariosborn @kpopgirlbtssvt @xapham @90smessy @swearingsolemnly @hidejeon @whoreforfredweasley
Lmk if you want to be added to either taglist :)
#sirius black#sirius black imagine#sirius black imagines#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius x y/n#sirius black x y/n#sirius#sirius black fic#sirius black fanfiction#harry potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter fic#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter marauders#marauders fic#golden trio era#hp imagine#hp#hp fic#hp fanfic#harry potter imagines#hp imagines#bellatrix lestrange#lord voldemort#andromeda tonks#nymphadora tonks#nymphadora lupin#ted tonks#remus lupin
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PRIVATE CONVERSATION
I'm running out of titles for these things.
I like responding to chats here because there's so much space for me to work with and I can gather all my thoughts in one place before hitting send. DMs feel limiting and sometimes you hit send before you are ready and you can't go back to tweak things- also it's my corner of the internet and I can do whatever I want😊
Before we talk just play this in the background or something.
youtube
Trust me it's good...
Just don't look up the lyrics 😥
I'm scared of the lyrics he'll come back with from the military. I really am🤧
I'm just gonna manifest same from Tae and Jimin and frankly bts. I'm tired of the we are the world lyrics they keep throwing at us🙂
Oh here's a performance I stumbled on
youtube
Just in case audio is not your thing😉
A. Jimin's birthday
Lol. No I don't think I'm really worried about Jikook more so than I am Vmin, Jinmin, Minimoni. Jikook is the least of my worries.
Do I expect Jungkook to post for JM's birthday- Hell yea the fuck? Like who does he expect to love on his boyfriend for him?
If I have to post for Jimin I'm snatching him and shipping him with myself🙃
And this may sound incriminating but I'll tie Jk's leg down while Jimin tickles him till he pees on himself and we will take a snapshot of his wedgie, post it online and tag Lisa, Yeri and Mijoo in it😌
I remember saying this last time that I feel a big part of the reason someone like Tae would CHOOSE not to post publicly for a member is because of certain shippers who romanticize his relationship with certain members💀
I said this for Jk and I'll say this for Tae, disengaging is one way they take back control especially when they feel overwhelmed by the fact there's too much public scrutiny or interference in their personal lives.
For Jungkook it's the back to back scandals and people blowing that whole Mijoo thing out of proportion coupled with the members' *over censorship* within that period in my opinion.
For Tae I don't know what happened in his trajectory between September last year and December 2020 but he went from saying he loved showcasing his chemistry with the members, from teasing Jungkook in an interview on his birthday and exposing the fact he was the one who bought champagne for JK on his birthday- a fact he willingly contributed himself without which no one would have known what he did for JK on his birthday besides the Twitter post- to now saying in December he preferred to keep something he'd done for Jin private- even though Jin had said he felt Army ought to know and subsequently not posting for these members.
And yes he really does love to showcase his chemistry with the members- even to this date- like hello, TFM 2021!
And he is constantly confessing he likes Jimin too to this date and I believe him🤣
Don't know why he would consistently use Jimin as his muse and write songs about him if he wasn't emotionally attached or at least fascinated by him🤷🏽♀️
- unless he's been over compensating for something all this while...
I won't be surprised if these members are actually in on the charade or whatever this not posting for members is and they akekeke behind closed doors whenever we come lamenting through the streets because A didn't post for B💀
Tae Kook I'm looking at you and your bro fist hand shakes👀
Felt like two people coming together to ruin a ship for me and that scares me😓
If anyone is gonna mess with us it's those two clowns and their partner in crime agenda. Jikook too what's up👀
They love us but sometimes they legit wanna smack the back of our heads you know🤡
I don't know how many times they want him to say get out of your imagination before they stop infantilizing him and imposing members on him in ways he don't want to be imposed on.
FREE TAEHYUNG.
While we are on the subject of Taehyung and ships, I need to rant about something... done.
I guess what I'm saying is, I do expect JK and V to post on this birthday. If they don't that's fine. I can understand for V and as for JK, dude dipped off the surface of the internet the instant the fandom started acting funny and his recent FTC scandal isn't helping the situation.
Jimin is either about to become a casualty of our toxic fandom like RM was or he about to get on his fuck y"all I'm gay shit🤣
The fact JM himself seem tired of the shit in the fandom isn't boasting my confidence either. I can't trust him to whoop Jk's ass if he don't post for him. He'd be the one saving posts of shippers crying online about Jk not posting for him and laughing his butt off while spooning JK at nitght.
And contrary to what some of you say I really do believe Jimin does have a say in these things. If Jk tells him, honey I don't wanna deal with the fandom toxic ass right now so don't expect a post from me, he's prolly gonna say no worries bro just blow me out later and handshake on it.
That said, I'm not above groveling and throwing tantrums if they both don't post.
Most definitely I'm gonna pout😊
Y'all get used to it😙
B. JK'S FTC ISSUE
Ahh... this topic.
Like I said before, Jk is a brand and that brand is owned by BigHit. I don't know what is in his contract and whether or not the company has full or partial control over his brand.
I like to think each member has a slightly different contract from eachother under BigHit that caters to their individual needs and desires.
When Tae wanted to feature Jimin on a song on his personal project it wasn't allowed. But they've had features with artists outside of BTS and Jikook were featured on a Song together. Savage love didn't feature all the members either.
You can glean the nature of their contracts from their actions and the way they interact with other artists.
The point I made with those posts was that the only way Jk would be in trouble in this case is if he made fraudulent misrepresentations as the other allegations against him simply didn't have any legal merit.
And so far that is the same thing the FTC has said stating that for him to be held liable he must have made false claims or reviews and merely putting on clothes does not constitute deception.
His actions do not violate the fair trade act as I said in my first post on the matter.
Intention to deceive is a bit tricky- often a person's intention is determined by the logical consequences of their actions.
If you throw a knife at me it really doesn't matter your actual intentions because logically throwing knives at people will injure them. You can't throw a knife at me and claim your intention was not to harm me. And if I end up dead then goodluck defending your murder charges in court.
If he made a statement about his clothes knowing it was false then he'd be in trouble regardless...
Also I really don't feel comfortable talking about this bit because you just never know who will take this and use it to make an argument against him💀
Don't worry JK. I will protect you🥂
The problem here is, the FTC cannot require artists and influencers to give a disclaimer or disclose information about the clothes they wear even if them merely wearing it advertises such clothes.
This whole under the table advertisement law is funny to me.
On one hand I see the problem they are trying to fix but at the same time the problem is so nuanced it's gonna be hard to legislate.
If people buy clothes their idols wear without them having to say anything about the brand then all companies have to do is pay these artists to wear certain clothes during their lives or even consume certain items on their live and that item will sell out.
Jungkook has a reputation of the sell out King in S.K and his lives are watched by millions of people. He's gonna be a hotcake among brands and if that's the case then that means BigHit would either want to step in and control what items and products are used by them in these VLives which would amount to too much censorship and control and would ruin the experience for the members. Isn't that what happened with his gcfs?? Not everything has to be monetized.
I see why VLive has that policy against showing brand labels during VLive now.
Now I'm scratching my head as to why they pace themselves with these VLives and whether that is by design or accident🤔
Remember when I was blubbering on about that this person wants to do a VLive but it seems the company is pacing them?? From Jin to JK to Jimin? Cough JMs birthday VLive. Cough cough.
Recently RM said the members don't come on live because they don't know what to say( unless that was a mistranslation)
Jk equally implied he wasn't prepared for a live but was asked to do one last year when he was rebelling...
I'm caught between thinking the members don't wanna do a vlive for XY reasons and the company pacing them for obvious reasons.
Y'all get creative and fill in the gaps for me because I'm 🤔🤔🤔🤔 right now.
Delulu gang Activate💥
I dont know bout you but I love it here on ship street. It's brain racking for me🤣
To sum up, Tae Kook are trolling us as usual.
Seems they found creative ways to tell us to get out of our imagination and they are shaking on it. The premier duo from hell🤧
Unless, the FTC expects idols to show up to broadcasts naked they better leave Jungkook alone. But if they wanna get him too they will💀
What else did you ask....
GOLDY
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