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thepersonperson · 3 days

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Why the hell is JJK 270 called Dream's End?

JJK 270 being titled Dream’s End is so fudging ominous. That’s some Umineko type beat. I’m not sure if I should even judge this chapter as presented because of this. In fact, I'm holding off on posting the other analysis I had for today since I no longer am certain of what JJK 268–270 are.

There's two lines of thought I have:

1) Gege suffering from burnout and bad working conditions plus rushing has caused the writing to decline.

2) Gege still has a hidden ace saved for the final chapter and the weird writing is deliberate.

I'm going to humor Option 2, but only because the title of this chapter is called Dream's End.

(The most 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Using TCB scans and leaks. Click images for captions/citations.)

[Small Update: Follow-up Discussion on why everyone feels OOC.]

Preface

"Without love it cannot be seen."

This is a phrase and philosophy I have borrowed from Umineko since I've started these JJK yapfests. It essentially boils down to 'discard your negative biases and try to examine things in good faith.'

JJK 268 & 269 have fudging tested that for me. I've been giving Gege and the characters a pretty hard time with the caveat of knowing how exploitative the manga industry is. I initially rejected the idea that these chapters were to be taken at anything other than face-value because of this. In fact, I cited the JJK 268 chapter title of Finale as a reason I've accepted things as is.

And with that same logic, I'm now doing the opposite... So hear me out! I've got some pretty good reasons to be doing this.

What's wrong with JJK 268–270?

There's a lot of things in these chapters that are fundamentally inconsistent with what's been established in throughout the manga. If we use Option 1 to explain these contradictions, these are last second retcons because Gege forgor.

Option 2? We're about to have the rug pulled the hell out from under us because the last 3 chapters have been delusions.

What first tipped me off to something possibly being wrong on purpose was the fate of the incarnated culling game players in JJK 270. Not too long ago it was established that the souls of non-sorcerers in vessels were unsavable.

The souls are suppressed in a way that distorts them permanently or their consciousness is outright destroyed. They were gambling on Megumi's survival due to him being a sorcerer and Sukuna's incarnation method being unique. 99% of them will die and those who survive will likely be vegetables, so why is there a sudden gamble on their survival in JJK 270?

It's such a neat and fine bow to tie this mess up that goes directly against existing lore. It's so ideal that it has me suspicious.

Brain damage from sorcery on non-sorcerers has been established as extremely taxing. I think about Gojo's Unlimited Void (UV) the most when it comes to this. Non-sorcerers were hit by it for 0.2 seconds and required medical intervention for 2 months to fully heal from it. Sukuna, the absolute strongest, tanked some of it and it affected him for the rest of the battle. ...And then we have Megumi who was under it for about 6 minutes and seems to have very little problems from it.

This is bizarre. Someone who underwent the month long bath and UV without Reverse Curse Technique (RCT) should be struggling to even stand after waking up. Sukuna had RCT and the Gojo brain damage still took him out. This screams of inconsistent writing unless...this is a deliberate hint that something is amiss.

I want to draw attention to the panel Megumi's UV damage is addressed. Just about everyone has been seemingly waiting around in the same spot for him to wake up. It's a bit weird given that sorcerers don't usually do that. They usually get a move on asap. And after the destruction of Shinjuku and the Culling Game Players still running about, why would they take a breather to discuss their plans that worked?

But that's not what started bothering me about that panel after reading JJK 270. It's that characters who aren't in the room, start appearing without warning. Look who is behind Maki and to the left. It's Kusakabe. And to her and Yuta's right? Inumaki. So why is it that Hakari, Kiara, and Ino are in Kusakabe's place while Todo spawns where Inumaki is? (And Yuta is facing the wrong direction too.)

That's pretty fudging weird right? You can chalk it up to Gege forgor but it doesn't stop there. Higuruma enters the discussion in a way that causes Yuji to pause.

Why is Yuji surprised to see him? (And where the fudge did he come from?) Shouldn't he know of his survival by now? And why is he in a cast? Higuruma had learned RCT and fully restored his arms before leaving the battlefield. If he's conscious, then he should be able to heal himself fully no problems.

And that got me thinking... Why is Yuji still missing his fingers?

It was established that he kept his fingers unhealed to help with Yuta's plan. This means that if he won, he has no need to keep them missing. Yuji has fully regenerated missing chunks of his face, including his eye, and stomach. He has RCT just like Higuruma. But it doesn't end there either. Yuji's number of fingers on his left hand keeps changing.

4 fingers, 3 fingers, dubious amount of fingers, 5 fingers. Once again, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but JJK 270 came out and the same problem started happening with Megumi's scars.

The same mistake is made within the same set of panels and very big page. That's weird.

ONCE AGAIN, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but when these errors occur, like with Yuta mistakenly having his ring on in JJK 251, Gege will note the mistake outright. Gege has made no such comments for Yuji's fingers or the scars. This many “errors” in row when Gege has otherwise been careful with these features could indicate it really is on purpose. (Kind of like Sukuna's everchanging mask. The thing was just moving around and pulsing. That was deliberate not inconsistency.)

What does this mean?

I think it means what we are seeing isn't reality. After all, the most common way to tell if you're dreaming is being unable to count the number of fingers on your hands. Another way to tell is the distortion of faces.

Readers have noticed that something is wrong. The weird timeskips, the lack of lasting consequences, design inconsistencies, characters behaving like similes of themselves, death and pain being glossed over like it's nothing. It all feels so off. But it's still close enough to the original to be somewhat believable. ...Is that not what it's like to dream and not know you are dreaming?

Why is it that the chapter titled Dream's End ends with the hunt for a curse user whose ability is to distort the perception of reality?

Dreams and Delusions in JJK

We already know Gege weaves Buddhist symbolism and ideas heavily into JJK. I'm not an expert in Buddhism at all, so there's a lot of it that goes over my head. I decided to look into if dreams are significant in Buddhism and boy howdy are they. Quoted directly from the source:

"Dreams can be a message from a Bodhisattva, an ancestor, or a god, The intent of the dream may be to test the dreamer’s resolve: is he non-retreating (avaivartika) from Bodhi (enlightenment) even when sleeping? The purpose of the dream visit may be to communicate information vital to the dreamer’s well-being. The Buddha himself had five dreams of catastrophes, falling stars and worlds in collision just before his enlightenment. The dreams were sent to him not by a benevolent Dharma-protector, but by an malevolent sorcerer, intent on disrupting the Buddha’s samadhi and preventing his awakening."

In summary, (correct me if I'm wrong) dreams appear to be seen as another state of being just as valuable and impermanent as reality.

There's also this other bit I'll quote directly.

"The most common use of dreams in the literature of the Mahayana, or “Northern School” of Buddhism in China, Tibet, Japan, Korea, and Vietnam is to see dreams as a simile for sunyata, (emptiness) the hollow core at the heart of all component dharmas (things). For example, in the well-known Vajra (Diamond) Sutra, the Buddha taught that:

“All conditioned dharmas, are like a dream, like an illusion, like a bubble, like a shadow, like a dewdrop, like a lightening flash; you should contemplate them thus.”"

That's starting to sound like what Yuji's Domain does, right? He projects memories that did happen and mixes them with delusions and dreams. Sukuna and Megumi both experience this in full.

It's incredibly suspicious that it hasn't been named yet. Yuji is the son of Kenjaku who has a domain based on the Womb Sutra/Realm...which is paired with the aforementioned Diamond Realm to encompass the entire Dharma. It's very likely this is what Yuji's domain is—a realm of dreams and reality combined as one.

Unreality Runs in the Family

When Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" as the Culling Games begin, Kenjaku explains her situation with this:

What follows is a sequence that cannot be described as a dream. It seems to be a blend of reality and hallucinations. But that's not anything strange, Sukuna does it too with Kashimo in reverse.

As you can see, both the positions of the characters and even the backgrounds change suddenly from reality to ??? and from sequence to sequence. It's all incredibly dream like.

Another strange thing about this space is Kenjaku creating it as a part of an escape route Binding Vow. You know, the kind Sukuna uses for Malevolent Shrine.

What I want to draw attention to here is this reality-dream state somewhat requires consent (in the loosest possible definition) to appear. The person entering this state has to desire it themself. We see this with Jogo and Gojo who are mutually interested in having a relationship of somekind with Sukuna. (Same with Kashimo.)

(It's also very hard to tell if they are dead or still in the process of dying during this.)

This is where the delusions Yuji projects differ. They are forced onto others when he is near death or severely injured, seemingly as a defense mechanism.

And would you look at that...the syntax is identical for Todo and Choso's Brother Yuji Delusions. "At that moment, a memory was born inside X's brain...of a past event that never happened." It's kind of like how Yuji replaces Gojo in Megumi's memory to reach him. It's also very strange that Sukuna, Choso, and Jogo go "What is this?" to this in-between space.

My point here is that Yuji having access to this space has been hinted at since the start of this manga and that it was inherited it by blood. (Totally Not Kenjaku showing up with Takaba Mr. Reality Warping CT in JJK 270 supports my case too I think.)

What does this mean for JJK 268–270?

The battle ended in JJK 268. Of that I'm certain. What I no longer know is if anyone survived.

A common complaint about Sukuna's death is his lack of an afterlife scene. Everything ended so abruptly. And then Megumi wakes up.

It's so jarring in out of place. ...But that's how all scenes involving the space between dreams and reality begin. Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" once and then again. Most of us have experienced those kind of dreams right? (They made a whole movie about it called Inception which is based on the movie Paprika.)

There's one other thing I need to draw attention to. Yuji's Domain shattered after Sukuna cast Domain Expansion (DE).

When a sorcerer withdraws their domain voluntarily, it does not shatter. Gojo has demonstrated this for us in quite clearly.

When a domain is broken by force, it will shatter and shards will scatter. When a domain is withdrawn, no shards are left behind. Yuta uses these facts as a part of his plan. In JJK 252, it's revealed by Kusakabe that Yuta shatters his own domain on purpose to trick Sukuna into thinking he won.

What this means is that some kind of violent action needs to be taken to shatter a domain. Yuji's domain is massive and his attacks only targeted Sukuna. What could've shattered his domain all at once? He's not had the time to practice shattering parts of it like Yuta.

Gojo has shown us what a uniform domain shattering looks like—it happens when Malevolent Shrine activates. (Please note that the sfx used for Sukuna breaking Gojo's domain is カシャア. It's the same one used for Yuji's domain shattering.)

I'm proposing that we've been in unreality since the end of JJK 266. Sukuna and Yuji are both severely injured, on the verge of death, and have a connection with each other. These are all conditions that trigger the space between dreams and reality.

And I must remind you that Yuji first triggers this event with Todo after a severe head injury. Right before Sukuna casts his domain, they do this to each other.

Everything that has come after has been perfect for Yuji to a unbelievable degree. Everyone whose death was uncertain is alive and the living are getting exactly what they wanted. The effort behind it and the logistics are all missing. And yes a rushed ending can explain that, but that too can be part of the ruse.

Another massive complaint is that mourning has not occurred. Not for Gojo or Choso despite how much Yuji cherished them. It's like they're being willfully forgotten by the cast despite being crucial to their success in Shinjuku. It feels out of character, especially since Yuji is of the few that showed concern for them no matter what.

But if this is a delusion on the brink of death designed to bring happiness, why would Yuji think of the dead? He's always been so avoidant with it. When his grandpa is dying and trying to talk about his parents, Yuji tells him to shut up. When Nanami dies, he thinks of him then and then never again directly leading up to his talk with Sukuna. When Megumi tries to discuss Nobara's fate, Yuji ends the conversation as quickly as possible.

The only people in this world are the ones who may or may not be dead. He saw Yuta in Gojo's corpse. The only way that can happen is if Gojo is dead. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. Choso burned away before his eyes. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. He went through some of Megumi's memories and saw Tsumiki's corpse. Yuji has no choice but to believe it.

And since Tsumiki is the only person Yuji wasn't close with, she's the only death that has been outright acknowledged. But not for too long! That would make Megumi sad.

Another complaint is that Sukuna really didn't kill anyone in the final battle outside of those two and Kashimo. The dudebros call it Disney Kaisen. But the fairytale-like idea that everyone is ok? Todo was the one who put that idea in Yuji's head.

And Yuji has always been one to fall to story-like logic when things look like they're finally wrapping up.

"And then everything will be just fine." (Yuji before the worst possible outcome for both him and Megumi happens.)

This is similar to the line Gakuganji uses in JJK 270. "Everything is fine." This line is the whole reason I sat down and wrote this all out without stopping. I know Gakuganji. He'd never say that. This man has been in a state of worry over Jujutsu Society since his first appearance. He doesn't even fully believe in Gojo's cause as someone who values tradition. He's a stickler for details and will do everything in his power to ensure stability. For him to toss Sukuna and Tengen's remains in a shrine and call it a day? Who is that? He's changed but not that much.

And so I compared the raws.

It is very much the same 大丈夫 (Daijoubu). These are Yuji's words.

What I'm proposing is that JJK 267–270 are Yuji's delusions of the happiest possible ending. It's a picture perfect little end where all the trauma and death has no effect on the living and people move on like nothing happened. I don't know if this means he's dead or if Megumi's dead or if they're all dead. But what I'm seeing now? I don't think it's real.

Reexamining JJK 269

CW: Brief discussion of suicide.

Even if this turns out to be a part of the smokescreen, I'm always going to hate JJK 269. But I do want to give it some grace under the assumption this chapter titled Examination (which can also be translated as Reflection) is about Yuji's guilt. Both him and Megumi's tbh. I think their feelings for each other and their situations are driving these delusions. That's one thing about this space that's real—the feelings behind them.

Yuji has a lot of guilt surrounding his existence after ingesting Sukuna, Megumi does too. Straight up Yuji has been seeking death over it since JJK 9.

He struggles to forgive himself for being the centerpiece to violence he had little to no control over. The only thing that upsets him more than that is knowing that his death will break Megumi's heart. He doesn't want Megumi to feel any guilt for it whatsoever.

The kicker is, Megumi already knows Yuji is planning to die. And he wants to do everything to rid him of that guilt. Up until they connect inside of Yuji's domain, they were unaware they shared the same goal for each other.

And that's what JJK 269 is. It's a very cold and harsh breakdown that allows them to forgive themselves. Blame is passed around and ultimately pinned on a combination of Gojo and Kenjaku. (It's really weird Sukuna isn't blamed either, but that's not the point of this for now.)

Kusakabe's comment is especially harsh. Telling Yuji point blank he should've died and that both sides on the issue were valid? He may have believed that to an extent, but he made a point of not telling it to his face. Why have a whole chapter discussing how kind he is only to turn around and do this?

If this is all a delusion, a manifestation of Yuji's guilt and trying to absolve himself of it for Megumi's sake, that makes sense. This version of Kusakabe is what Yuji feels guilt over the most—Everyone's lives being better if he died.

In the same breath Kusakabe tells them to solely blame the adults. It's very reminiscent of Nanami telling Yuji that being a child is not a sin.

It should also be noted that every single time Megumi tries to apologize for being possessed, he's stopped. Maki tears into Yuta without checking in on him, but she asks if Megumi is ok and tells him to not blame himself. JJK 270 is full of this too. He tries to apologize to Tsumiki at her grave and Shoko tells him not to sweat it. He tries to apologize to Hana and she hits on him instead.

This delusion is crafted out of love. It allows Megumi to live in a world where he can move on from the guilt surrounding his possession and saving Yuji. It's all Yuji has ever wanted for him. And now that Yuji knows Megumi wants him to forgive himself, he has no choice but to do that too.

It's a perfect ending for Megumi that's too good to be true.

It must be a dream...

There's another thing I can't reconcile about JJK 269 unless it's a delusion—Todo's explanation for Yuta's plan. It's another one of those glaring contradictions.

In JJK 269 Todo claims Boogie Woogie can't target Maki. But in JJK 259? Todo makes plans with Mei Mei knowing that it works with her.

Either Todo lied...or Yuji never fully knew the plan and that Boogie Woogie could target Maki. Otherwise she would be dead. Her surviving Sukuna's flames would be impossible.

I've already talked about how Yuji believing those who may or may not be dead are alive is Todo's doing. He's always been the one to save Yuji from his breakdowns. But let's talk about his speech in Shibuya.

"Looking for meaning or logic in death...can at times defile the memories of those we've lost!"

Everyone who has read these past 3 chapters has really felt the defiling of Gojo's memory. And it was all in service to a strange logic that helped them cope with all this death. Acknowledging how massive Gojo's sacrifice was would riddle both Yuji and Megumi with immense guilt, so it's best to ignore it for Megumi's sake. (And perhaps that's why Yuji replaces Gojo in that memory.)

"What have you been entrusted with? You don't need to answer right now. However... Until you find your answer, never stop moving."

In a way, JJK 269 is an answer to the question Todo proposed. Yuji was entrusted with saving Megumi. Saving Megumi requires Megumi and Yuji forgiving themselves. And Yuji won't stop moving until it's done. All these time jumps and rushed developments are Yuji moving Megumi forward. He's getting that happy ending even if it's to the detriment of everything else.

What about Sukuna?

When Sukuna respects his opponents and they have a connection, he gives others these dreams before they pass. He's been very impressed by Megumi since JJK 9. It's not out of the ballpark for him to allow Megumi to die satisfied in the way Gojo did. Yuji also seems to understand that Sukuna was manipulated by others just as much as he was. I think that's why Sukuna is spared of the blame for the most part.

I don't think Sukuna won. He's probably dead. But he did warn Yuji not to underestimate him. I think the worst absolute last fudge you to Yuji he could give is this happy ending dream before ripping it all away as he dies.

In Conclusion...

I'm not sure that we're going to get that happy ending. Reggie Star warned us not too long ago.

"...it all comes down to a sorcerer's lies."

Reggie is a lot like Sukuna here, outwitted by modern sorcerers and dying to someone he loathes. Sukuna is good at tricking people. He let Gojo think he won before tearing it all away. Yuta did the exact same thing to him. Or did he?

"Can you do me a favor? After all, you've killed me. Let fate toy with you, become a clown, then die."

If the last 3 chapters are delusions...Megumi will be playing the part of a clown.

Gege said the manga would end with either 1/4 or 3/4 of Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and Gojo surviving. This of course, could be changed throughout its development, but Gege said the manga is ending in its original vision. There's a real chance that it's only Yuji or Nobara surviving.

Remember, Gege is a troll first and foremost. Somehow Gojo was revived, but in the worst way possible (Yujo). Somehow Gojo did tell Megumi about Toji, but in the worst way possible (dead man's final letter).

Gege also said this about the final chapter:

"I am working hard to create a final chapter that will (hopefully) satisfy as many people as possible who have supported Jujutsu Kaisen. So everyone, please bear with me!"

I can't think of a better way to appease everyone than by making the last 3 chapters nothing more than dream.

#cactus yaps #I asked Gege for an Umineko reference and BOY did I get one. There is a nonzero chance Yuji is doing a Battler here and that terrifies me.#I'm actually excited for next week's chapter. Gege will you follow through on what you've put down... We will see...#This is a post that will either age really well or really bad. My final gamble before the end.#This chapter brought back my ''Fever'' for JJK. Let's fudging go!#I should tag this as itafushi probably.#itadori yuji #fushiguro megumi #ryomen sukuna #jjk 270 #jjk 269 #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers

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ever-growing-green · 2 years

Note

Just found this project and I think it’s awesome someone is continuing the series. So. Jen, still being as competitive as before?

Thank you! I'm really happy that a lot of people seem to feel the same way about AoS, it ended far too soon and had so much potential to include, so I hope to make people happy with what I have planned.

As for your question, I intend on keeping a lot of the Smashers original traits as best as I can, so Jen will be ready to compete the moment she gets challenged. As Jen herself would put,

"I'm a lean, mean, winning machine!"

#ask #anonymous #character: mun #character: jen #I'm currently in the middle of writing chapter 2 and its. awful i hate it #I wanna get into the plot SO bad u have no idea #as soon as chp 2 is written and we're all introduced i'm jumping straight into the plot #and anyone's free to ask questions!#esp while the blog is still a WIP for info right now!#keep in mind key spoilers will still be kept out of reach ;3 #anyway ty anon!

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buckets-and-trees · 29 days

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Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for quite a while. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond anything you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your above, over, and below the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, andI've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

#ari levinson #chris evans characters #curtis everett smut #curtis everett #ari levinson smut #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader #female reader #tw: dubcon #tw: dub con #tw: dubious consent #happy birthday siri 2024 #aspen wrote something #obsidian stain and sin

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evertidings · 3 months

Text

— JUNE 2024.

accomplishments.

hi!! how's everyone been lately? june was a really good month for me in terms of writing and i'm really really happy about it. turns out, forcing yourself to write actually does something. who would've thought?

for the longest time, i had no motivation to work on this chapter because it wasn't going anywhere. i had the issue with the plothole and it honestly killed so much of my joy. since reworking the chapter, however, i've gotten back some of my spark. i basically told myself that 'hey, you still really like what you've created so far, right? so suck it up and push past your mental block.' and here we are.

i'm still getting back into the groove of things, but i've done a lot more writing for this than i have for a while. that said, i apologize for the long wait. i feel immensely guilty about the lack of update but i swear to you, it will come. my plan is some time in the summer. if not, then early fall (though this is obviously not preferred).

to speak on the chapter itself, chapter eleven has three major branches in total, and, as i said in last month's update, each of them feature different ros. i'm currently wrapping up branch #2 and plan on working on #3 later this week. technically, branch #1 isn't done yet, but it was also the branch that gave me immense writer's block so forgive me if i ignore it a little longer. branch #1 and #2 are also a lot heavier compared to #3, so having written those for months on end, i'm feeling a little weighed down. by switching over to #3, the goal is to have enough energy to get back to #1. once that's done, all i gotta do is edit and publish it!

so yeah, maybe we're not at the end yet, but we're getting there. this is the best i've felt about this chapter for a very long time now and i'm really hoping this energy continues. thank you for your continued patience. i will try my hardest to make this worth it for you.

take care of yourselves! <3

stats.

chapter total: ~21,170 words

game total: ~493,170 words

#update #when twilight strikes #the midnight hours #interactive fiction

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reallyromealone · 6 months

Text

Title: oh look a mate (s)

Pairing: demon brother's x reader

Chapter 2

Fandom: obey me

Warnings: male reader, omegaverse, nsfw content, angst, fluff, self hatred, reader has a lot of trauma, shitty family, toxic family, mentions of murder, attempted assassination mentioned

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

He remembered his first nest.

And how quickly his sister destroyed it.

His parents mocking him, his sister making him feel awful for having something like that.

This was what he thought of when he thought of inviting his family, that was the first memory he had.

He was eight at that time.

Staring at the paper, did he want to invite them?

"No, I don't think we're going to do that" he whispered to himself as he looked at the barely started letter, everytime he tried writing it another memory came back.

For once, he wanted something happy that they wouldn't intrude on.

This was for him.

Lucifer noticed something, something deeply concerning that he hadn't thought about till looking at (name) getting fitted for his wedding attire, he had no collar. His neck and scent glands exposed and no one caught this, how did they not notice this?! Lucifer looked at the ornate and beautiful collar he had commissioned, an expensive leather with their soulmate mark on a silver charm.

Simple but beautiful.

(Name) Was in his greenhouse again as Belphegor slept in the corner, (name) liked to think this was their hang out time because he would always appear when he was in here, it was nice.

(Name) Spoke about the things he was doing to the sleeping demon, a one sided conversation but (name) still enjoyed it as his happy pharamones filled the room "I'm growing tulips here, I think they would be lovely... I always loved them, they were my grandmothers favorites before she passed" he explained happily as he stretched "I think im done for the day" walking towards the demon he smiled "sorry but I'm going to need this, it's quite chilly today" he said as he went to take his cape but Belphegor had other ideas, pulling (name) in his embrace "this is very sweet but I think sleeping on a greenhouse ledge would hurt our backs"(name) said softly to the other who cracked an eye open and grunted "would you be willing to stay away a bit to go somewhere more comfortable?" He asked the Alpha who grunted "and where do you have in mind?"

Belphegor was a bit surprised when (name) had him teleport to (name)s space, the Omega leading him to his nest and gently pushing him in "much nicer!" He said simply as Belphegor let the other sit beside him as the demon pulled him close, already sleepy "you're a sleep demon right?" (Name) Asked curiously and Belphegor grunted "sloth avatar" his voice low and rumbly as (name) nodded "that must be tough"

"Not really... Now stop talking and sleep" he ordered the Omega who just let him hold him like a teddy bear.

The two slept for a few hours, the others looking for (name) everywhere before finding him in the nest "no fair, why does he get to go in the nest!" Beelzebub whined as (name) looked so peaceful "we'll get to go in it eventually" it was nice to see (name) let his guard down, he was sweet yes but always nervous...

"Let's let them sleep, his heats soon so it's best to let him conserve energy" Lucifer instructed as they begrudgingly left "I worry for his heat though " Asmodeus commented as they left the apartment and the others looked confused "he knows basically nothing... He's reading books to figure it out because he's worried he won't be good, I don't even think he's masturbated before" how could he? Suppressants basically knocked the libido out of you and not to mention his upbringing "a heat is scared, between an Omega and their body for the first few years and he was robbed of it" Satan said softly and they sighed, he couldn't have this heat by himself as their were traditions but they didn't want him going into his first heat after being in suppressants for years without knowing anything about sex.

"Maybe ask him if he wants to fuck?" Mammon said simply and Asmodeus glared at him "as much as I want that, we have to be delicate with him! Teach him how to pleasure himself!"

"Then let's to that then!" The white haired Alpha argued back and Lucifer and Satan just sighed and Levi wanted to just not be in this conversation anymore, embarrassed as hell.

(Name) Woke later on, The sun setting as Beelzebub walked in "have a good nap, sleepy?" He teased and (name) rubbed his eyes "how long did I sleep?" He whispered and Beelzebub chuckled "five hours"

"You guys let me sleep that long?!" He worried and the Alpha smiled "you were too cute to wake, now come on! It's dinner!" He seemed excited and (name) looked at Belphegor "don't worry about him, he usually gets leftovers later" Beelzebub lifted (name) as the Omega yelped "wait! I'm heavy!" He panicked and Beelzebub laughed "like holding a couple of grapes, don't worry I'm strong" he teased as they walked down the halls, the gluttony demon feeling how soft his mate was, face right near his chest... Nope don't get an erection right now! 'think of awful things!' he thought as he thought of the worst things imaginable, wasting food and uuuh Solomon shirtless!

'Bleh'

"There's the sleepy bunny~" Asmodeus teased, (name) looking a little disheveled as sleep still had him in a bit of a hold "sorry I slept so long..." He whispered and Mammon snorted "you were napping with Belph, he has that affect" the Omega nodded as Mammon put food on his plate, a bit extra as the Alpha felt the urge to make sure (name) was cared for.

They spoke of weddings and such as (name) enjoyed his meal, little chirps occasionally leaving his lips at the foods be particularly enjoyed as the demons watched happily "maybe when your garden is ready for harvest we can use them~" Lucifer on (name)s other side gently fixed the others shirt, a typical alpha grooming of his mate as he began (fixing/cleaning) his (hair/face) "how you manage to get dirty"

After dinner, (name) was curious as Lucifer halted him with Asmodeus standing beside him "could we talk to you? Just for a moment?" Lucifer asked the Omega who looked curious but nodded, letting Asmodeus take his hand as they went to Lucifer's office "we hope this isn't too forward darling but we wanted to ask..." Lucifer seemed to struggle on what to say exactly as Asmodeus stepped in "we want your first time to be memorable, not in the throws of heat where you may not remember and maybe understand your body more" Asmodeus said to the other who was now seated in a plush chair as Asmodeus crouched infront of him "you deserve to have your first time be on your terms and learn what you like, we don't have to have sex but would you be open to it?"

"I-I... Isn't mating for the alphas?" He was supposed to give alphas pleasure! He was an Omega!

"Oh darling no, Sex is supposed to be good for both parties, you and your comfort matter just as much as ours"

"You wouldn't see me as shameful for wanting that?" (Name)s voice barely above a whisper and the two got closer "darling im the avatar of lust, nothing you do would be shameful to me and Luci here just wants you to feel pride in yourself and your body" he explained and (name) felt his cheeks get wet with tears "promise?"

"Of course"

They set up for two days from now, Asmodeus would teach (name) about his body... Intimately.

And (name) was nervous but a heat pooled in his stomach he wasn't familiar with, ever since he stopped supressants his body had felt like shocks went through it whenever his alphas touched him, his omega quiet after so long begging him to do whorish things...

Oh god, he's been here a few weeks and he's already like this!

He wouldn't admit it but he liked how freeing it was, his mates never judging him....

They actively tried spending time with him, having him join their activities and lives.

He remembered when Lucifer tried teaching him how to ride a horse, the black haired demon sitting behind him on the stallion and guiding him gently, it was absolutely wonderful!

He wanted to treasure that memory forever...

Belphegor was still in the nest when (name) returned and changed into his sleep clothes getting comfortable and passing out as the sleep demon held him in a vice grip, possession absolutely noticable with the hold as (name) was soothed by how warm and cozy it felt.

(Sisters name) Was hysterical when the royal wedding was announced, a grand event that had the entire kingdom in a flurry of celebration as their town marketed that they were the town that had the Omega.

So she did what was logical.

Get rid of the problem in her life.

(Name) Wouldn't see what hit him.

"So, where do you feel most comfortable? This is about you" Asmodeus asked the Omega who fiddled with his hands and looked at his nest and his bed "would it... Be messy?"

"Only if we're doing it right~" he teased and kissed (name)s forehead "remember, this is what YOU want" he reminded (name) who looked at his bed and then his nest "nest?" He asked softly and Asmodeus smiled "of course, do I have permission to enter your pretty nest?" He asked as (name) got comfortable in it and the smile on (name)s face said a lot as he nodded, Asmodeus moving them so (name) was in his lap "remember what I taught you about safe words?" He asked the Omega who nodded "tell alpha" he commanded gently and smelt the small amount of slick that escaped the omegas body "green means good... Yellow means that I'm not sure and slow down and read is stop" he said confidently as Asmodeus kissed his neck lovingly "such a good boy" he whispered into his ear and smiled when (name) subconsciously bucked his hips, he knew this cutie had a praise kink.

After all, he always wanted to be good for him.

"Now, I'm going to remove your clothes, remember what to do if it gets uncomfortable" he said as he used his magic to make (name)s clothes vanish, the other covering himself shyly "none of that, let me see you" Asmodeus said sweetly as he watched (name) uncover himself and god, was his omega so pretty...

"Now, the first rule of sex is getting comfortable with your own body" Asmodeus explained as he took (name)s hands and moved them across the omegas own body "know what feels good" he pinched (name)s cute nipple before moving their hands lower "and to know what feels /great/" the demon wrapped their hands around (name)s cute Omegan cock that was already erect and gave it a tug, watching (name) throw his head back at the sensation "o-oh!" He was confused and awe struck by the sensation, this was way better than the pillow humping he had been pitifully been doing lately. "This is your pretty cock, stroke it, play with its head... It's yours to use whenever you want~" Asmodeus explained and (name) let out a shaky breath as they stroked his cock, legs spread across Asmodeus' own "and if we go lower, we have your ass" he whispered to (name) and smiled at how fucked out (name) looked already and they barely started "you gotta prep yourself real nice, slowly work your way in..."

(Name) Whined out as Asmodeus chuckled "none of that, pretty boy" he whispered as he pulled (name) into a sweet kiss, slipping his tongue in shortly after as he helped (name) loosen up with both of their fingers though Asmodeus was just guiding. "When you feel it's loose enough, slowly push in... Don't worry the slick will help you" he pulled away to continue his lesson with his omega who was already drooling and unfocused as Asmodeus gently helped him push in "all the way to the knuckle...~"

Asmodeus helped (name) fuck himself in one finger before slowly introducing a second finger, (name) could feel his erection on his back and rutted into it as his hips shook, his fingers felt good but not good enough... "It's not..." He couldn't figure out how to say it as Asmodeus kissed his scent gland "it's not what darling?" "M-more!" He cried out, fully lost in it as he pushed his hips up subconsciously.

"Do you want alpha to take care of you? Show you something great?" Asmodeus asked the other who wnined "what color are you baby?"

"Green!"

"Good boy"

Asmodeus removed (name)s fingers before replacing them with his larger ones, down to the knuckle before his other hand moved to the omegas cock "hey baby.. look at me" (name) complied as Asmodeus began thrusting against his prostate and jerking him off "shiaaa!" He could barely keep himself from cumming as he let out a loud cry, cum getting everywhere "and that pleasure button was your prostate... Use that whenever your heart desires ~ rub it and press it~" he said softly as (name) barely could stay awake "you wanna continue baby? Tell alpha"

"Gu-reen" he barely could sputter out and Asmodeus chuckled "you're too precious~ let's wash you up and feed you" he lifted (name) with ease and took him to the ensuite washroom "you did do good, you were so pretty~" he praised the Omega who was putty in his hold, (name) definitely bad a lot of time to make up for with how repressed the poor thing was sexually...

The other brothers stroked themselves vigorously as they heard the sounds of (name) being pleasured and inevitable climax that had the Omega screaming.

"He's fast asleep, poor thing wanted more but could barely stay awake" Asmodeus said fondly as the others gathered in the parlor "hes definitely eager, loves to be a good boy ~" the smell of a pleasured Omega was strong, the smell of (pharamones smell) stronger and sweeter "before I put him to bed, he asked if you guys could join next time ~ such a sweet little thing"

He definitely was going to be a good dam to their respective pups.

The other alphas were definitely interested in joining next time.

With the news of the wedding approaching, the men were taking even more precautions and safety measures for the Omega, already having three poisoning attempts and an assassin that they apprehended while (name) was sleeping.

Switching their cutlery to silver from gold and both the food tester and Beelzebub to test (name)s food, the demon immune thankfully as the rest.

At most he would just have a stomach ache for an hour.

It was intense, the men constantly worrying for him as he went about his day with more guards much to his confusion as the days ticked closer, the grand wedding hall being decorated along with the rest of the palace as guests from around the world began arriving as he took a walk through the gardens, the demons having (name)s favorite flowers planted as he was the one who frequented the area the most.

currently he was trying to find Lucifer, the demon wanting to have tea with him but (name) was a bit directionally challenged as he eventually spotted horns and black hair "you're late" Lucifer remarked without any bite as he stood for the Omega, checking him over "I have something for you" the demon didn't waste time as he pulled out the collar "it's not safe to be unprotected like this" his words simple as (name) looked at the collar.

His family never let him have one, a form of control he supposed and he couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks as the demon looked worried "do you not like it?" His voice laced with light panic and (name) shook his head "i-i never had one??" His voice confused but soon Lucifer clicked the situation together and smiled "I will never let you go without, my love" he gently put the collar on (name), the Omega dressing in more lace and delicate clothes these days as Asmodeus had a fixation on shopping for him, it went together quite well "beautiful..."

"You think?" (Name) Asked nervously and Lucifer leaned down and kissed him "we'll get you countless collars in any color you want" he said honestly before leading (name) to the garden table with treats and tea set up "now, shall we eat?"

(Name) Was curious as he was handed a letter from his family, his father's seal in wax staring back at him.He didn't know what to do, this would be the first time in over a month that he would be hearing from his family.

He didn't know what to expect.

"Are you alright, Darling?" That was also a few development with the demons, pet names.

And Satan surprisingly besides Asmodeus was very heavy with them.

"I... I received a letter from my family" Satan was immediately suspicious of this letter as he walked to his omega "do you trust me?" He asked the Omega who nodded obediently "of course" he chirped "could I see this letter? To soothe my nerves" (name) knew of the things that have been happening and nodded, handing him the letter without a second thought and the blond gently kissed him "thank you, my dear"

He had the two poison testers open the letter in a glass room, something their grandfather made when people began putting poisonous powder in letters, it wasn't poisoned thankfully.

That would make for an angry Satan :).

But the contents of the letter?

Oh.

Ohohoho.

That made for him to get so upset he transformed a little more demonic from rage.

'(name),

We have been informed by our neighbors about your wedding, a surprise to us all as you haven't even sent your family an invitation seeing as you stole your sisters moment and flaunted it infront of her.

We are thoroughly disappointed and appalled at your attitude and would expect you to invite your sister as she deserves to see the life you stole from her even just once.

We are expecting an invite promptly.

(Mother's name) And (father's name), (lastname)'

The audacity.

The sheer audacity of these people, how did (name) manage to be related to these insects of people?! "definitely not letting Belphegor read this" or maybe he should... No (name) would be upset.

"Maybe we should invite them... One last look at someone they took for granted" and before they kept (name) away forever.

Give him everything and more.

God he couldn't wait to give that cute Omega who was currently petting one of the off duty p

#obey me omegaverse #obey me x male reader #obey me x reader #x male reader #male reader #obey me smut #anime x male reader #anime x reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #belphegor x male reader #Lucifer x male reader #satan x male reader #beelzebub x male reader #asmodeus x male reader #mammon x male reader #leviathan x male reader

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space-mango-company · 5 months

Text

Stranger | Chapter 5

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.

Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.

ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.

You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.

"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."

"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."

You stare at him indifferently.

"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."

You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"

He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."

"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.

"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."

You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.

Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"

You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."

His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.

"What?" you call after him.

"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."

You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.

You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.

You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.

"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.

There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.

"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.

"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"

"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."

"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."

"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.

"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.

"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."

Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."

You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."

You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.

Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.

Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.

Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.

You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.

The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.

Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.

When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.

"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.

You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.

When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.

Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.

A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.

Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"

You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.

"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.

You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.

"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.

"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."

You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.

After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."

She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.

In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.

He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.

When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?

When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.

You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.

You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #atreides reader #dune #dune part two #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

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vettelsvee · 1 month

Text

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 4: FAMILIAR [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 3811

summary: seb comes back home as a surprise only to see that hanna and a little mysterious girl receive them... instead of y/n, who was supposed to finally meet him

warnings: settled on may 2018. curse words, angst, seb and little emily meeting but they don't know who they are to each other, seb being VERY suspicious. seb pov.

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i haven't said anything, BUT taylor made a mashup for her surprise songs in warsaw night 2 that is an absolute spoiler of this series (if you know it TELL ME ON ANON BECAUSE I LITERALLY SCREAMED). anyways, we're back with an update FINALLY. sorry to make you wait (really, i wasn't doing mentally ok and I'm still struggling but here we are!), but in the next chapter we'll have y/n and seb finally meeting... but for the moments I'll wait to see your comments, anon messages and reactions (please please please) about everything that happens on this chapter and how suspicious seb's gonna be (hope you fangirl and like everything as much as i did writing this) + also remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. thank you for all the support you've been showing me these days, love you all <3

2018

May 3rd Heppenheim, Germany

Sebastian

The exhaustion was piling up in my body, and I knew that what I was doing was crazy. I was fully aware that facing my past with just two hours of sleep was quite risky, but I couldn't wait to see Y/N again. As soon as Hanna told me she had spoken to her and gave me the green light to visit her, I forced Britta to buy me a plane ticket to Cologne to head home as soon as I finished some Ferrari ads and all that shit I absolutely hated in Maranello. My excitement and nerves were so intense that I didn't even tell anything to my parents or Fabian, who would probably go crazy for not telling them earlier.

I let go of the suitcase reluctantly and, to my misfortune, it fell to the floor with a rather noticeable thud. I sighed and did my best to ignore it, ringing the doorbell and leaning against the wall while holding the bouquet of tulips I had bought for Y/N. I knew it was silly, but I was excited to have this small gesture as a sort of belated birthday gift for her.

"Who is it?"

I was notably surprised when, instead of my mother’s voice, a child’s one chirped the question.

"It’s Seb," I replied, trying not to make a big deal out of the situation. Maybe it was just the daughter, or even granddaughter, of one of my mother’s friends.

"I don’t know any Seb! Who is it?" she asked again, this time with a slightly annoyed tone.

"I’m Sebastian."

"Sorry, but I only know two Sebastians: one is the crab from The Little Mermaid, and the other one is the man who sometimes appears on TV at Grandma’s house."

I couldn’t help but laugh. Whoever that little girl was, she was the best thing I had come across in a long time.

"Mum also says I can’t open the door to strangers, so I can’t let you in. I’m sorry, sir."

"But my parents live here," I replied as calmly as I could. It was clear that the lack of sleep was affecting my patience.

"Are you Mr. Norbert’s secret son?!"

"Emily, let me open the door!"

The door suddenly opened, revealing a somewhat out-of-breath Hanna, as if she had come running to open it and was now trying to catch her breath. Next to her was a girl about five years old, with completely blonde and curly hair that reached roughly to her waist. The little one didn’t hesitate to smile and greet me with her right hand, and almost immediately, her eyes widened as she made eye contact with me. When I turned my gaze back to my friend I was quite surprised. Her skin, which was already pale, had turned even paler for no apparent reason. The girl, however, kept looking at me, curious and, in my perception, somewhat pleased.

Had Hanna become a mother and didn’t tell me?

Before I could react or say anything, the door slammed shut in my face, not giving me a chance to say anything. My surprise came when, a few seconds later, it opened again, revealing the same scene.

“You’re…” she started to say, hesitating. She was nervous, and her nerves only made me more anxious. “Seb… but not…”

“Is something wrong, Hanna?”

Instead of answering, she remained completely silent. I knew something was wrong as soon as she started to look at the ground instead of looking at me.

“Hanna?”

“Aunt Hanna…” the little girl, still by her side, intervened, trying to get her attention by tugging at her sweater sleeve. “The man who appears on TV with the red car is talking to you,” I widened my eyes, surprised. Did the girl know me? “Mom says that when someone talks to you, you should respond; it’s rude not to.”

“Do you know who I am?” I asked the little girl, crouching to her level.

“Of course I know you…!”

“Hey, sweetie, why don’t you go play outside for a while?” My friend intervened before the little girl could finish. “Sebastian and I need to talk about some things, okay?”

“Did mommy have a surprise for me and that’s why she brought him?” the girl asked curiously, pointing at me. “Mommy said she was going to bring me a surprise when she came back from…”

“Emily, that’s enough! Go outside and we’ll talk about mom's surprise later. We can even call her if you want, okay?”

Prater’s shout startled the girl, who simply picked up a stuffed panda from the couch and a red car that looked quite similar to the one I had in Formula 1 back in 2015. As soon as Hanna turned back to her, scolding her once more, she ran towards the yard.

I found it amusing that, when my friend turned back to me, that curly-haired blonde girl peeked around the door, trying not to let us see her, possibly feeling quite curious about what we had to discuss.

It didn’t bother me at all, but exactly the opposite. I used to do the same when I was a child and my parents had friends coming home.

“Are you here or not, Sebastian?”

Hanna quickly brushed her hand over my face. I immediately shifted my gaze from the little girl and refocused on her. She had her arms crossed, her sweater sleeves rolled up, and her face was completely red.

I wasn’t sure if she was angry with little Emily, with me, or with the situation, though she had no reason to be. After all, I was the one who had come to my parents’ house, my home, to get ready to see Y/N. It wasn’t my problem that I had encountered Hanna and this mysterious girl here, without any prior notice. At least, I didn’t see it as such.

“I’ve been here since I arrived, Hanna. You’re the one who’s gone crazy seeing me show up,” I responded tersely.

“You could have told me that you were coming.”

“Do I need to give an exact day for when I’ll be back home? Can’t I give my parents a fucking surprise?”

“Didn’t you consider that your parents might be running errands at this time? Or that…”

I left her talking to herself because the last thing I wanted was to argue, especially over something trivial like this. Her behavior was stressing me out too much, and that was the last thing I needed, especially considering that my ex and I might run into each other at any moment.

Without saying anything else, I headed to the kitchen to find a vase for the tulips for Y/N before they wilted. While filling it with water, I noticed the little girl. She was engrossed with that red toy car, moving it back and forth while murmuring commands with what seemed to be an attempt of technical Formula 1 words. She pushed her curls out of her face and suddenly decided to include the panda bear in the game.

I stared at the girl. Her face seemed familiar… too familiar, in fact. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I had a feeling I had seen her before in Heppenheim, though I didn’t remember seeing her as part of any family of my parents’ friends.

I tried to downplay the fleeting thought when Hanna arrived, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and, as I had guessed upon looking back, with a rather unfriendly expression.

Her eyes were analyzing me, I knew it perfectly. I sighed and placed the vase on the counter, arranging the tulips as best as I could while trying to ignore her behavior.

"Are they for Y/N?" she finally asked.

"Who else would they be for?"

"She isn’t here," she said abruptly, dropping the news.

Silence fell between us once again. I raised my gaze so quickly that I almost felt a bit dizzy. All she did was look at me, unable to continue the conversation or, at least, undecided on whether to continue it or not. Finally, after a few seconds, she decided to speak again:

"I know I told you she’d be here this week, but…" she hesitated. It was the first time I had seen her like this, and she was by no means the self-assured Hanna I had known since the first day of school. “Damn it, Seb, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but…”

"Does she have a boyfriend?"

That was the first thing that came to mind, and I immediately regretted blurting it out. Hanna laughed so hard that Emily, who was now chasing a butterfly, stopped dead in her tracks to see what was happening to her supposed aunt.

Hanna approached me. She gave me a few pats on the chest and then on the head, before giving me a hug that caught me off guard.

"How naive you are, Sebastian Vettel… Do you really think Y/N would have a boyfriend? Can you picture her having one?"

"Well, it's been five years since she broke up with me. It's about time she moved on, so I find it normal."

"Have you moved on? Do you have some secret girlfriend you haven’t told us about, Mr. Privacy?"

I didn’t answer, which was enough for her to know we were in the same romantic situation.

"I've slept with a few girls all these years, but I’ve never looked for anything serious," I confessed.

"Well, I’m afraid to tell you that you’re in the same boat as Y/N then. As far as I know, she hasn’t slept with anyone, although it’s understandable, considering she has…”

And before she could say anything more, she stopped talking. Again.

If the situation between us had calmed down, it had now become tense again. It was the second time that day, at least as far as I had noticed, that Hanna Prater seemed to have let something slip. I looked at her, searching her expressions for something that would give me a hint about what she wanted to say; she simply looked away and headed to the living room, sitting on the sofa and changing the channel from some cartoon pigs to the local Heppenheim news channel.

"What does Y/N have, Hanna? Or who does she have?"

"Y/N is in London, Seb," she finally revealed with a sigh, as if it was hard for her to tell me. “I know it’s not my place to tell you this, and even less that she would like you to know, but after your breakup… she has some contacts.”

"What kind of contacts are you talking about?" I wanted to know. Had she done something I wasn’t aware of? Was she in trouble?

"To say it briefly, because the story is too long, a guy from this very famous boyband back in the day decided to come here for a while to find inspiration for new music and see what to do with his solo career," she explained. “Call it coincidence, luck or an act of God, but Niall ended up going to the bar where Y/N works and, well… the rest is history.”

I didn’t know what to say… Yes, I hoped things were going a bit better for her than when we were together, but that she had met someone as important as that guy seemed…

"The thing is, Y/N is in London right now. But she’ll be back, so don’t worry. She’s been there for several days," Hanna continued. "Niall isn’t particularly good at keeping secrets, and since he knew she was the face behind Red, he had the bright idea of mentioning it to his label who, luckily, said they’d like to meet with Y/N to offer her a contract."

"And did you know any of this before telling me to come, or…?"

I tried not to sound angry, but the truth was I was, at least a little. To be more exact, I was more than just angry… I was upset. Upset simply because Y/N, knowing I had asked if she was the face behind that viral video that was having so much success, and now considering that she had a possibly important meeting with that record label, hadn’t bothered to respond not only to my question but also to my birthday wishes.

I felt really bad because, despite being the person who probably knew y/n better than anyone else in the world, it seemed like the opposite.

"Y/N didn’t tell me anything until the day before she left," she confessed quietly. "I swear, Seb, she was so reluctant to go that I even thought she wouldn’t go and you two would finally get to talk about everything…” Once again, a pause full of uncertainty gnawed at me from within. “The only thing she said to me before going to London was that she wasn’t going to sign anything and that she was going only because she hadn’t traveled since you two were together, and she actually was doing that because she needed to disconnect and think about a few things.”

"So… did she go for nothing?"

"She doesn’t want to sign any record deal, Seb. She just wants to put her life in order and continue it as it is now. She doesn’t need anything more than what she has."

I didn’t know what to say, but I had a thousand conflicting thoughts swirling in my head right now. It struck me as very strange that my ex-girlfriend didn’t want to accept a record deal. That was everything Y/N had worked for in this life, and now, when she had the opportunity, she was turning it down…

Maybe Britta was right and the Y/N I knew was now just a mere ghost of my past, still haunting my life to torment me with the answers I never got.

"Y/N should accept it," was all I could say, impassive to what my ears had just heard. "I can’t believe she’d turn down something she’s fought for so many years…”

Suddenly, a melody from a song I didn’t recognize started playing in the room. Emily appeared with a phone in her hand and ran to give it to Hanna who, upon looking at the screen, became quite alarmed.

"Sorry, Seb, it’s important…" she said without taking her eyes off the phone. "Emily, stay here with Seb, okay? I’ll be right back…”

Hanna left faster than I would have liked, leaving me alone with the little girl, who again kept staring at me.

"You’re just like on TV..."

The little blonde girl came up to me, too close, and began examining me closely. She placed her small hands on my cheeks and moved them across my face. I was sure she was leaving little traces of dirt, but I didn’t mind when I saw she couldn’t stop smiling and laughing.

"If my mommy were here, she’d be very happy to see you," she said, sitting next to me.

"Does your mom know who I am?"

She nodded.

"Mommy watches you on TV every day," she revealed. "Well, not every day, but when you’re on granny’s TV on weekends, she spends hours and hours watching you at your work!"

"So your mom likes Formula 1, huh?"

"What’s that?" she asked innocently. However, before I could say anything, she spoke again. "Oh, I remember now! That’s what’s on TV where the cars go really fast, right? And you drive one of them, don’t you?"

I nodded slightly while laughing.

"Mommy says it’s very dangerous and sometimes she’s scared about what might happen to you. Mommy really likes you a lot, you know? Why don’t you go out with her and be my daddy?"

"Sometimes it is a bit dangerous, yes, but don’t worry: today there are many safety measures to keep us safe, and we also take a lot of care when we drive,” I said quietly, trying to sound as calm as possible and ignoring her last request. Did this girl not have a present father?

The girl frowned, not very convinced by my answer and, possibly, upset by ignoring part of what she was surely eager to know. Her eyes, a shade of blue that was neither dark nor light, looked at me with curiosity.

"Have you ever hurt yourself while driving your red car?" she asked again, interested.

"Well, um…" I hesitated for a moment on what words to choose so as not to alarm her further. "Sometimes we have small bumps, but the barriers on the track protect us when we go off."

Emily seemed more at ease with the softened version of reality, although she still looked worried and upset. I didn’t know why I was telling her all this considering she was probably no older than five and I might be scaring her.

"Hey, now tell me something about you, since I’m on holidays and I don’t want to talk about my work! What do you like to do? I don’t know anything about you yet!"

Her eyes lit up when I asked her that. My main intention was to change the subject, but something inside me was glad to see her so happy when I showed some kind of interest in her.

"I love to paint and play!" she exclaimed. "I also like going to the park with mummy, dancing and singing at her work! And I also like tales!"

"What’s your favorite tale?"

“Mommy always tells me one about a prince who is part of a blue team and takes part in an important game every year, and he always wins! And in the end, he falls in love with a very pretty waitress, and they have a little baby and take care of it together, and they’re very happy!”

I got in absolute shock at her words.

Could it...?

No, it’s impossible, there’s no way that’s some kind of version of my story with Y/N. It must be the exhaustion and all the hustle and bustle of these last few days that are starting to make my head a mess.

I didn’t know what else to say, so while I tried to sort my thoughts, we sat in silence for a while. I changed the channel from the local one to the cartoons that had been on earlier to keep Emily entertained.

The little one didn’t say anything else, but she did snuggle up to me as if she had known me for much more than less than an hour.

When some amount of time had passed, I felt slight tugs on my shirt. I hadn’t realized I had closed my eyes and had dozed off a little. Emily’s little smile brought me back to reality:

“Is something wrong, little one?” I asked, worried that something had happened to her.

“Aunt Hanna is still on the phone, and Peppa Pig is over,” she pointed to the TV with her little hand. “And you probably have to leave soon... Mrs. Heike and Mr. Norbert are coming back any moment now!”

“But this is my house. I’m not going anywhere,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Heike and Norbert are my parents. Do you remember that I told you that before?”

She nodded, relieved and partly remembering that we had talked about it earlier. From her face, I knew she was about to say something more, but I didn’t hear her when I noticed my phone vibrating in my pocket.

I tried to disconnect as much as possible when I was on “vacation,” but given that it could be an important work issue, I decided to check what the notification was about.

To my absolute surprise, it was a message from Y/N:

Hi, Seb.

I’m so sorry for not replying to you earlier. I completely forgot...

I really wanted to, but with one thing and another, it’s been impossible. Hanna has probably talked to you about it, so I won’t say much more so I don’t stress you out more than you probably already are.

I promise that the next time you come, I’ll be there, and we’ll talk about whatever you want.

I think we have quite a few things to discuss about, and I hope you’re not upset with me when that happens.

I read the message more times than I could count, not believing what my eyes were seeing. Relief mixed with confusion at the last sentence. “I think we have quite a bit to discuss, and I hope you’re not upset with me when that happens” didn’t make me think of anything good, especially coming from Y/N.

I took some time to reply, maybe hoping that Hanna, who I saw was coming back into the house, could help me. I started to worry again when I saw a forced smile on her face, as if she was trying to hide something, just as she seemed to have been doing all day.

I started to hear the door lock and then it opening. I knew perfectly by the way of walking that it was my parents, and Emily seemed to know it as well. The little one jumped off the sofa and ran towards them, which surprised me quite a bit.

I only did the same, except I stood up as calmly as I could, with a kind of fear I couldn’t explain.

“You’ve come back home!” the little girl shouted excitedly, bouncing up and down. “Mrs. Heike, Mrs. Heike! Can I ask you something now that your son, the one who drives cars and is very liked by mom, is here?”

My mother looked at the little girl, and then at me. Her face changed completely when she realized that Emily wasn’t lying and that I was, in fact, back home. I didn’t know what Hanna was like at that moment, but I would swear she was more distressed than she had been all day.

Even my father, who normally was a person who didn’t get flustered by anything, seemed quite nervous.

Emily and I, however, seemed to be the only ones who weren’t catching on and were living in our bubble of innocence.

“Does your mommy have a nickname for you, Sebastian?” the little one asked me in a low voice, calling me by my name for the first time. Then she asked me to bend down and carefully placed her hand on my ear to tell me something so that no one would hear. “My mommy says I’m the sunshine of her life, but she always says to me not to tell anyone, that she calling me that way is a secret between us. No one answers me why when I ask them, do you know why?”

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scribblesofagoonerr · 4 months

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— mission: chaos fc

↪ muchly requested second part to the previous chapter. I had so much fun writing the first bit, so why not give you guys a second part?

ps. there'll be more parts to this... its' not over yet!

Lets' go with chaos fc!

Thank you thank you thank you to @alotofpockets for helping me with the different ideas and code names, so much to write the mayhem!

pairings: kim little x reader, kyra cooney cross x reader

summary: just 2 best friends being pests together, and enlisting the help of the young guns to help them out

"Yoo-hoo," You call out as you open the door to Kyra's hotel room and walk in, plonking yourself down on her bed as you end up hearing the tail-end conversation of her phone call with Viv.

Ultimately, you know you should try and stay out of trouble. After all, that's what you promised Leah, and you really should keep your promise.

However, you're a known troublemaker and well, wherever you go, trouble tends to follow.

It's only a matter of time...

"Yikes, Vivi sounds mad with you," You can't help but joke and whistle lowly, moving back to relax on the Australians' girls bed with your arms propped up on the pillows. "How bad was it?" You question, curiously.

"She lectured me for what felt like forever," Kyra huffs in protest and slumps back down onto her bed, "It's bad enough I already had an earful from Steph and Caitlin!" She whines.

You wince a bit as you feel bad for her having to deal with that, "Well, if it makes you feel any better I had to deal with a right telling off from Leah and you know she can be scary as hell sometimes," You mumble, shuddering slightly, "And shes' even threatened to ban me eating sweets for a month if she finds out I've got in any more trouble. Oh and there was talk about a leash as well,"

"Right, so no more pranks then?" Kyra slumps her shoulders down in realisation.

"Well, Kimmys' definitely gonna be keeping a closer on us now," You remark, knowing that your Captain will have a watchful eye on you both.

The older Australian nods in agreement, "Yeah, and Steph and Catilin as well probably," She notes.

"Yeah-- I know!" An idea pops into your head as you bolt up from where you're lounging about on her bed, "We'll come up with code names! That way, we can lay low and cause trouble and none of the girls will have a clue that we're talkin' about them!" You personally think the idea's great and you know full well it'll help in your cause to be choatic still.

"That's geinus!" Kyra exclaims, impressed with your ability to think quickly about it.

"Well, you know, I can be pretty smart at times," You remark, jokely pretending to flick your hair back. "Right, we'll be known as... Eagle 1 and Eagle 2," You declare.

"Eagle?" Kyra furrows her eyebrow, confused by where you'd gotten that idea from.

"Uh huh," You nod in agreement with the older girl. "Kimmy will be Tiny, because well, its' kinda self explanatory," You tell her.

Kyra snickers at you making fun of your Captains' height, "Okay. What about Steph and Caitlin?" She questions.

"Caitlin will be known as Veggie, because of Vegemite and Steph will be known as Floof," You begin to reel of the different names, "Alessia will be known as uh, butterfingers!"

"Because of how clumsy she always is?" Kyra smirks at your imaginative nickname for the blonde striker and you nod in agreement, "Alright, what about Katie?" She wonders.

"Leprechaun, because there little shits like she is-- I mean, we're like that too, but shes' Irish as well so it fits better!" You explain your thought process, shrugging your shoulders, "Emily will be known as Fox, like the animal," You state.

"Simple but effective," Kyra remarks, keeping track of the different code names you're coming up with, "Cloe and Frida?"

You tap your finger against your cheek, "Hm, Laces and Magnum, Cloe's last name is hard to pronounce and Magnums' close to Manuum," You delclare, finding the situation amusing to no end, "Oooh. Teyah will be prodigcy, because you know, that's what Katie keeps referring to her as, and Katherine will be umm, Kool-Aid, like the drink!"

"Kool-Aid?" Kyra smirks in amusement as you just confirm your idea with a stuble nod of your head, "Oh, what about Vic?"

"Pancake," You answer without a single thought, "Cos' shes' Dutch and there's a thing called Dutch pancakes-- Oooh, I really want one of them right now!" You stare into space, thinking about them and all you want is one right now.

"Y/N focus," Kyra snaps her fingers in front of your face, trying to get your attention.

You jolt and shake your head suddenly, "Huh-- What... What're we talkin' about again?" You wonder, getting lost in your thoughts about desert already.

"Code names," Kyra reminds you as she laughs, "We still need to figure out the ones' for the rest of them. "What about Sarah and Jonas?" She adds.

"Sarah will be baguette, because shes' french... and Jonas will be Thanos," You're very adamant about the latter, "Because hes' a villian," You hadn't taken the news of Vivs' depature from the club exactly too well and you low-key would like to fight him at some point.

"Still mad about it, huh?" Kyra winces, remembering your reaction to Viv leaving the club wasn't that great.

"Don't want to talk about it. It still hurts," Alongside Katie being the head of the Vivianne Miedema fan club, you were a close second. You were devestated when she played the game in a Arsenal shirt for the last time.

"Pst, Kyra," You whisper and lean over your seat to not to gently nudge the girl to get her attention without being caught out by Kim or the rest of the 'responsible' older girls.

You're currently on the coach on the way to Marvel stadium ahead of the open training session where the fans would have the opportunity to watch you train ahead of the game against the all stars team.

Ever since the phone conversation with Leah, you had definitely been under closer watch and the threats that the blonde made were still fresh in your head as a reminder, and you'll be damned if you miss out on eating sweet treats, best behaviour or not.

But nobody ever said it was fun to always be good and you definitely weren't.

"Yeah?" The older girl turns her head to look at you.

"I have an idea of who can be the next victim of our prank," You give her a coy smile as you nudge your head slightly, "I say we mess with Laces," You gesture to the older girl whos' happily minding her own business.

Kyra smirks at your decision, "What've you got in mind?" She wonders.

You can't help but grin as you lean over the seat and cover your hand over your mouth to whisper to her, "We can sneak into the locker rom ahead of the rest of them. We'll hide the shin pads," You whisper quietly into her ear.

"Perfect," Kyra grins in agreement with your idea to cause chaos once again.

"What're you pair whispering about?" Kim eyes' the two of you suspiciously, hesistant to have even allowed you to both sit near each other.

"Nothing!" Your both quick to respond, acting completley innocent in the situation at hand.

"Mhm, make sure it stays that way!" Kim is less reluctant to simply let that answer slide so she keeps a more thorough check on you.

When the coach pulls up at the stadium, your quick to try and make a break for it, but your Captain doesn't seem to think the same idea, "Not so fast. I want you where I can keep an eye on you," She states, knowingly.

"Kimmmm, seriously?" You whine in protest, but the tight grip that she has on your upper bicep makes it difficult for you to break free like youn want to do.

"Come on," Kim pulls you in the direction of the press conference that shes' got with Jonas and Steph, forcing you to sit on the side where she can keep an eye on you still, "Stay there, don't move," She warns, patting your head ever so pratronisingly before she heads off to join them on the stage.

You can't say you were too fond of being forced to sit there and listen to the journalists ask questions, especially when Steph was poking fun at you directly for your bad habits of wandering off and getting into trouble.

"This is boring," You mutter to yourself and slump down in the chair, while you kick your legs back and forth in annoyance at the situation you've found yourself in.

How long would it take for Kim to realise you'd got up and left?

Only one way to find out, you guess.

"Y/N!" Your names' barked loudly, causing you to freeze in your spot before you slowly spin around and try flash her an innocent smile, "Sit down!"

"Aw shucks," You mutter and flop back down in the seat, trying to ignore the stern look that Kims' giving you while laughter breaks out in the room from everyone else.

"Only our Y/N," Steph chimes in, amusedly.

You realise you're stuck now and you need to resort to desperate measures to ensure that the chaos still happens.

"Young Guns, your time has come!" You think to yourself as you pull your phone out of your pocket to enlist the help of the girls in the academy.

Y/N created the group: mission chaos fc 💥💣💀

y/n added kyra, mini viv and & mini katie & 4 others to the chat

y/n changed kyra's name to eagle 2 🦅🦅 y/n changed freya's name to godfather 😎 y/n changed maddie's' name to baddie 😅 y/n changed vivs' name to winger 🪽 y/n changed laila's name to ernie 🤪 y/n changed naomi's name to diver 🤿 y/n changed katie's name spencer 👀 y/n changed your name to eagle 1 🦅

eagle 1 🦅: young guns. i need your help! godfather 😎: uh... what's this? baddie 😅: why is my name baddie? winger 🪽: what's going on, y/n? ernie 🤪: i'm so lost. godfather 😎: heh, i actually kinda like mine... 😊 baddie 😅: speak for yourself 🙄 spencer 👀: why is my name spencer?👀 eagle 1 🦅: FOCUS YOUNG GUNS, I'M DEPENDING ON YOU!🫵🏼 diver 🤿: umm okay, i'm confused. ernie 🤪: yeah, your not the only one...🫠 winger 🪽: should i get one of the girls to come help you? spencer 👀: i think we should eagle 1 🦅: noooooooo! ⛔⛔⛔⛔ DO NOT GET ANY OF THE OLDER GIRLS!🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️ i've been kidnapped, this is the plan... spencer 👀: if you've been kidnapped then we definitely need to tell someone! eagle 1 🦅: nooooo its' fine i'm stuck with mother kimmy and she won't let me out of her sight for the forseeable! i'm enlisting your help to join in on mission chaos fc, your time has come! diver 🤿: we should be concerned, right? godfather 😎: yeah, yeah... i think so eagle 1 🦅: your mission whether you choose to accept is up to you. the challenge is simple, i need you to go and hide laces shin pads. don't ask questions tho. do you wish to accept your mission? baddie 😅: whos' laces? 😕 eagle 1 🦅: I SAID NO QUESTIONS ooh right yeah, i realise now... uh its' cloe lacasse, baddie 😅: i'm down! diver 🤿: sure, why not spencer 👀: seems a bit risky... i don't know winger 🪽: we'll help you, eagle 1 🫡 eagle 2 🦅🦅 has entered the chat... eagle 2 🦅🦅 : y/n where are you? i can't find you-- have you been taken to the dark side? eagle 1 🦅: code names, eagle 2... i've been kidnapped by mother kimmy, the young guns' are now enlisted to help you out. i've got to go, my captivator is heading this way. good luck, live long and propser! 🫡 baddie 😅 : we won't let you down, eagle 1! eagle 2 🦅🦅: so long, partner... 🥲

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal women x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal wfc x reader #kim little x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #chaos fc

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stxrvel · 4 months

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the one where you came close! (2)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, we're still on the safe zone, angst if you squint, just silly writing! a/n. hi guys! finally second chapter is out! im blown away with your response!! thank u so much from the bottom of my heart! i loooooved reading your comments <33 pls remember updates are weekly or biweekly! and if you want to be tagged pls say so in the comments! see you next week ;)

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

“This is unbelievable! We're going to be rich!!!”

“What makes you think my sister is going to give you any of that money?”

“I created that Instagram account that was tagged in Kim Taehyung's damn story, I deserve a raise!”

“What makes you drones think my daughter is going to give you any of that money?”

“None of you are going to get anything out of that act of feigned innocence. Honey, are you all right?”

It seemed like a light had gone on in the room, four pairs of eyes landing on your still pale, surprised face. The night had been heavy after Yuna's call and you'd had so little sleep that you didn't know how you were functioning at the moment. Maybe that was the thing: you weren't functioning at all.

When you woke up, you thought it had all been a bad dream and that definitely the first exposure you'd had to the guys in years hadn't been because Taehyung came across your books at a convention you decided not to go to and uploaded them to his Instagram account with over eighty million followers. It was impossible, wasn't it? Too crazy.

Maybe not as crazy as waking up to your parents banging on your bedroom door saying that over a hundred thousand orders had been placed overnight and they didn't have enough book production for that much demand.

Be that as it may, Yuna and your mother took care of the communications on the account. You went from having twenty followers (including your family and friends —your father had created an account exclusively for that and only followed you—), to almost sixty thousand in at least twelve hours. The posts you had worked so hard to create and put together were finally getting the attention they deserved, but it had all happened so fast and suddenly that it was too strong to process calmly.

Weighing which was stronger, whether Taehyung's acknowledgment of your existence after so many years of zero contact or that your book sales shot up so immeasurably that they couldn't even keep up with demand, even if a month went by, didn't make things any easier.

“She's obviously still in shock,” Yuna replied to your mother at your lack of response from the living room, right across the dining room where you had been sitting since you had come down from your room. Your breakfast was still untouched on the table, but that seemed to be the least important thing in the room with all the more important news.

“Have the printers answered yet?” your brother's voice through the speaker of your father's phone rang as you blinked, reality settling too slowly on your shoulders. You didn't even want to think about what it meant that Taehyung had done that. Maybe it was simply an altruistic act, wasn't it? Maybe he felt guilt and wanted to ameliorate it somehow. What better way than to do an act of charity?

“I'm on it,” your father was sitting across from you in the dining room, his laptop on the glass of the table as he moved his hands over the keyboard and stared through his glasses at the full tip of his nose. From the way his eyes narrowed, your mother snorted.

“Why don't you get those glasses adjusted if you know you don't see well up close, let alone on electronic devices?” the woman reached over, dragging your father's glasses until they were almost glued to his eyebrows. Your father barely gave her a goofy grin as your mother started shaking her hands. “You better move. I'll do it. You write too slow; you're getting on our son's nerves.”

“Nah, I'm fine. I don't know if y/n is tho.”

Silence returned and you growled internally. Well, that was enough conjecture and assumptions without any information to substantiate them, it was time to get down to business.

“Do you think we should take over this business now?” Yuna completely ignored your stretch and you sent her a confused look.

Your brother exclaimed from the phone in agreement. “I call dibs on the treasury!”

“There's no way you can keep the accounts right! You're studying law.”

“Seojun is good at numbers, Yuna.”

“Ha, with all due respect Mrs. I/n, he must only be good at counting sheep.”

“Hey,” you tried to get attention, getting up from the chair.

“y/n, don't talk, you're still in shock. Can you believe he once called me from the supermarket to ask if he got his change right? He didn't even move from the checkout counter. There were people booing him.”

“Ow, my poor baby.”

“I told you not to say that to anyone!”

“I can't keep quiet if they're speaking lies about you!”

“This wasn't lies! This is about my pride!”

“Nonsense. I'll handle the treasury. I double majored in finance and international relations for a reason.”

“You can't run anything without starting bossing everyone around!”

“It's not my fault you're a good-for-nothing!”

God. It was going to be a long day.

Sorting out the whole printing issue and the number of orders was difficult, but with a couple of stories, interactions with new followers and express delivery of the few copies you'd already had at home for months, the waters calmed down a bit. Now, in the stifling silence of your room, you wanted to run.

“Are you going to stare at the ceiling all night?”

“Maybe.”

Yuna watched you from the bed while all you could do was stare as notifications continued to pop up on your Instagram account and your mail because the requests simply wouldn't stop, even though you had made a thousand clarifications to all the new followers. You were trying to focus on the bright side of things, regardless of whatever reasons there may have been for everything to have happened that way, but with your friend's incessant gaze lying on your bed it made it a little difficult. You knew she wanted to pierce your skull from curiosity, but you wouldn't know how you would answer her questions.

“Is there anything you'd like to share with the class?”

The tension had become a little more latent during the last few minutes, when Yuna saw a specific notification on the account. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin had followed you. To describe your look of shock might be an understatement, and all you did for the next half hour was run across the room and throughout the house vociferating that you were living a nightmare.

Yuna has known all along that you had never been a fan of the siamese or their clan of friends, but she never knew why exactly. You had to tell her that you weren't interested in fashion, that you didn't like the kind of music Jungkook made, that hip-hop was never your thing, that you weren't interested in dilfs and you weren't interested in dance either. You had to tell her that all the things you once did with them didn't matter to you because it was painful, even if it was hard to accept.

You couldn't remember the times you would go shopping at the small mall in town to buy the trending clothes to put together different outfits with Taehyung and Jimin, then go try them all on at your house and invite the others and even your parents to do an impromptu runway show. You couldn't remember how the genre of music that Jungkook and you listened to all the time on his iPod and your MP3 player was the same one that his entire music career focuses on. You couldn't remember the nights when Yoongi would share his writings with you and you would help him compose a song or two on the piano when he felt brave enough. Or the times when you would accompany Hoseok to his workouts and then watch him create dance routines to his favorite songs while Jungkook sang in the background. You also didn't want to remember the times when Namjoon and Seokjin would sponsor their trips and give everyone gifts without expecting anything in return.

You couldn't remember those things. It was too much to bear for such a weak heart.

“What do you want to know?” you sighed, your body sliding on the chair as the notifications grew.

“How did all this happen?”

“Why do you think I have an answer for that?”

Yuna clicked her tongue, sitting on the bed with the cell phone still in her hands, still staring at the notification that snapped her out of her sanity.

“It's just… this is all unbelievable, magnificent and unreal. But how come you're not so excited about what happened?” Yuna slid across the sheets, to be right in front of you, but you refused to look away from the computer. Every time you thought you had overcome and grown around everything that happened so many years ago, something would pop up to remind you that you still had a long way to go. Maybe the nostalgia was strong, but so was the anger. “Regardless of how things turned out, because I know you're not as big a fan as me, this opens a million doors for you and I don't know why you're not celebrating it like we are.”

“It's…complicated.”

“I don't think so. Tell me.”

Yuna was unstoppable when she wanted to get answers out, but besides the obvious, of course there was something else that bothered you and kept you from enjoying this boom so much.

“It's just that all of this doesn't feel like it was a product of my effort,” you began, letting your gaze wander over the desk. The copies of your books you kept for yourself, the first ones you'd ever printed several years ago, lay there, as tattered as your failed accomplishment. “It doesn't feel like an achievement that my work had exploded thanks to a celebrity whose fans would buy even the toilet paper he uses. A lot of those people won't even read the book. They will just buy it and take a picture of it to say that they have the same book that the great Kim Taehyung read. Many of those books will never have a life, they will just be dust collectors and be reminders that all this did not happen because of my effort.”

“What the fuck are you blabbering about? Of course it's the fruit of your effort! Of course you deserve it!” Yuna got up from the bed and moved the chair around the back to leave you in front of her disgruntled and almost offended face. You could see the words drawn in her face. “You worked so many years to pull this off and after so many bumps you finally can! You deserve to have what you wanted so badly. This recognition will last just the same because many other people will read them and love them and they may not be many, but you will form a solid foundation as time goes on with people who will be truly unconditional and supportive and that will grow over time. Don't look at this so negatively, maybe you skipped a couple of steps, but you had every right to. It was what you deserved after all the effort and dedication you put into this project for so many years.”

Yuna didn't hesitate for a second. Her very serious expression sent a shiver down your spine and you could tell from her furrowed brow that she really was angry at your perception. Perhaps she was right, but without knowing the full background of this specific situation, you were only left to shake your head in assent and send her a grateful smile.

“I guess you're right,” you lifted a shoulder, turning your gaze back to your mail notifications.

“Of course I am!” the smile returned to her face and it didn't take long for her to look back down at her phone with sparkling eyes. “Now that we got the emotional charge out of the way, would you mind telling me how you know Taehyung?”

Your breathing stopped for a second and you cursed yourself because it sounded too loud as you almost choked on your own saliva.

“Oh?”

Play fucking dumb.

“What, did you think I wasn't going to notice? He wrote it crystal clear.”

Yuna wasn't even looking at you, too focused on running her finger over the row of notifications. Her nonchalant demeanor only caused you to panic more. It was as if she had caught you red-handed.

One of the best writers I've ever met in my life, damn you Kim Taehyung.

“Ah… I didn't… I didn't really know him so let's just say…”

“He couldn't have said that for nothing, don't you think? No celebrity would do that unless it was a person they hold in deep regard.”

Yuna had just caught you totally off guard. Maybe you should've focused a lot more on what Taehyung had written before you blocked his user from your personal account and threw the phone in the bottom of your drawer the night before and tried hard not to think about the rest for the rest of the night and all that day.

“It's just that… uhm… we studied at the same school. But for a short time actually. I don't even remember it well actually, ha, ha.”

Your laugh came out too constrained under your friend's narrow-eyed stare. You knew you'd have a hard time convincing her because you were a lousy liar.

“You know, it always struck me as odd that you weren't a fan. Taehyung and Jimin are like the two extremes of your ideal type.”

“Whaaaat?”

“And Jungkook's music is literally the kind of music you listen to, you just don't listen to his. All the other artists in the same genre you do listen to.”

“That has nothing to do with…”

“And even your parents don't claim to know Kim Seokjin when your mother was literally a nurse. She probably worked with him.”

“What does that have to do…?”

“And your brother is a hip-hop fan. How come he doesn't listen to Agust D? He's the best rapper of the last few decades and he's been trending for a long time.”

“…”

At what fucking moment?

“And all of them, plus Hobi and Namjoon, they all went to the same school. They're all friends. And you say you went to school with Taehyung?”

“Ahm… well, yes, but it's not like I would have met the others.”

Yuna looked at you, really looked you straight in the eyes as if that way she could tell what it was you were hiding or as if that solved all her guesses. It was impossible for her not to figure it out if she had already tied up all the damn loose ends.

Since the boys had left one by one, clearly your family was the first to realize how much their departures had affected you. In the beginning there was communication and all, but when Jungkook was the last to leave you lost any kind of link with them completely. You never knew exactly what happened because no matter how hard you tried to contact them you couldn't, not even your parents could talk to the boys' parents. Perhaps they had simply grown up, matured, completely forgetting about their ordinary life in that town.

They seemed to have disappeared from the planet.

Until your family moved to the capital. Jungkook was just starting out as an idol, but he had an amazing debut. He had captivated the entire audience and was too successful almost from the second one. It was a torment to watch them grow professionally little by little because, although you were happy for their achievements and all, you couldn't forget that they had basically abandoned you. And your parents and Seojun had noticed. They had noticed how much seeing them all over the place was bumming you out, so unreachable when at one point they were all in your living room eating your mother's delicious kimchi and listening to your father's anecdotes. Everyone was affected by their departures, but clearly no one as much as you.

That's why, of course, your parents and brother had made a silent vow to keep all media about the boys away from you, because they didn't even talk about it by accident in the house, at least not when you were present.

“It must be a huge coincidence…” Yuna continued and only at that moment did you realize how much you got into your head. Your vision slightly blurred. “I shouldn't accuse you of anything for things like that, should I? What nonsense.”

You were probably as white as a sheet of paper.

“Yeah, it would be too weird… ha, ha.”

God, you had to stop letting out those giggles when you were nervous.

“Anyway, should we order fried chicken for dinner?”

“I think I heard mom say she was going to make japchae.”

“Ohhhhhh, Mrs. l/n's japchae is delicious!”

You let out a laugh watching your friend spring up from the bed and head for the door. She stopped halfway out and pointed her index finger at you.

“Don't tell my mom I said that.”

You made a gesture to zipper your mouth shut and Yuna finally left.

The previous conversation had been so tense that you already felt tired and ready to sleep at seven o'clock at night. Really the whole day had been so heavy for everyone that you didn't know how the lights in the house were still on. For now, you couldn't do anything else, even if orders continued to come in, now everything depended on the printer and how fast the books would come out, so you would have to wait.

Maybe you should rest. You had asked your boss for the day off, but tomorrow you would have to continue working hard. Regardless of the incredible growth you'd had, you couldn't let your work go to waste.

Tomorrow would be a new day. A quieter one, preferably.

a/n: i'll try to have ready part 3 for next week! see you on june 13 at 11:59 pm - GMT5 time!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592

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