#GIVE HIM THE BIGGEST TERROR CRUSH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rose-tea-and-strawberries · 8 months ago

Text

when their tsum courts their crush

I write reader as female

Masterlist

♠️ DEUCE SPADE ♠️

i love the fact that tsum tsum deuce is basically delinquent deuce, only smaller and cuddlier

like deuce explains, he’s very aggressive and quick to anger - it has no impulse control and can and will fight (i.e. headbutt/drop itsy bitsy cauldrons on) anyone

like, unlike its human counterpart, it doesn’t even pretend to behave or be seen in a positive light, let alone act like the model student deuce is aiming for

but, like all things, there is an exception - and that, dear prefect, is you

you see, tsum deuce is an absolute terror to everyone - everyone except you

in fact, the second it sees you entering the rose maze (trey had you on speed dial the second tsum deuce appeared - everyone say ‘thank you, trey’) it comes bounding over to you and just leaps into your arms

and it just…stays there, all happy and content

and you just look down at this tiny, happy little angelic bean in your hands whilst every single person in heartslabyul is just gawking at how this demon just did a complete 180 degrees personality flip the second you showed up

human deuce is absolutely red faced and has suddenly become very interested in the grass whilst everyone is just giving him the biggest side eyes

so you, being the kind-hearted, altruistic person you are, just smile at the bean in your hands and cheerfully inform everyone that you wouldn’t mind babysitting tsum deuce until crowley finds a way home

everyone except deuce (and grim) is happy with this development

now human deuce already finds it hard to talk to girls but he especially finds it difficult whenever you’re around because he’s literally got the biggest crush on you and has been dying to confess but is way too shy to

but tsum deuce? tsum deuce has no such inhibitions

it will cuddle and snuggle and nuzzle up to you, rubbing against your cheek as it sits on your shoulder or hands as it rests in your palms

tsum deuce likes to grow big so that it can 1) be carried around in that child hug carry that parents do and 2) sit on your lap like a bond villain cat so that you can stroke its head and body

human deuce is not happy with either of these

like tsum deuce is just basking in your endless affection and endeared giggles whilst deuce is suffering so much that even ace gives him somewhat-sincere consoling pats on the back whenever you’d call the little tsum ‘sweetheart’ or ‘dear’ or ‘poppet’ or ‘darling or ‘angel’ or ‘cutie’ - and the list goes on…

what’s worse is that whenever you’re not looking it gives the most deadliest glare to its counterpart and when you turn around it looks back at you like ♡✧(^ ᴗ ^)✧♡

like deuce knows that he’s supposed to keep his head down and nose clean like a good little honour student but his delinquent switch is wobbly on even the best of days and seeing you be so happily touchy-feely with that smug little rascal really does not help those buried instincts

don’t get him wrong, he’s flustered beyond belief at the sight of you being so affectionate to his lookalike but his annoyance and jealousy take precedence

it all comes to a head when the cheeky bugger decides that its had enough of just receiving your kisses and just full on plants his ‘mouth’ on your lips

it takes everything in deuce to not full on punt it into the sun - especially when you look so flustered as a result, a gorgeous blush spreading across your features as you giggle at the little thing

deuce narrows his eyes - game on

❤️ ACE TRAPPOLA ❤️

@disney when are we getting tsum tsum ace? He’s the only first year to not have a marketable plushie

now ace has no problem with you being affectionate to his tsum

at first

you see ace and his tsum get along very well since they have very similar personalities

the two knaves of hearts just love causing trouble and making mischief together

but being so similar means that at some point they’ve got to clash

and clash they do >:)

when you come strolling in, tsum ace happily greets you and you, having been filled in on the situation (“thank you, Trey”), are more than happy to keep it entertained so you pet it and coddle it and dole out your sweet affection

and, honestly, it was a huge ego boost to see his crush being so sweet with a smaller version of himself

of course, he’s going to be all ace about it and tease you like “why are you so affectionate with mini me? do you have a crush on me or something? don’t worry, i understand - i guess i’m too irresistible even as a tsum” with his signature grin

but then the novelty is very quick to wear off when practically all of your attention is being given to the little bean - especially when he realises that his tsum has just as big as a crush on you as he does, and he’s very quick to act on it

like human ace, tsum ace flirts by peacocking, living off of your praise like it’s the oxygen it breathes

and unlike human ace, tsum ace doesn’t tease you, which kind of gives him a head start

basically tsum ace is an ace who doesn’t hide his insecurities and feelings for you behind a guarded wall of playful teasing and fake carelessness

it would show off by doing card tricks for you, using its own miniature deck it got from seven knows where to do all sorts of tricks - that do genuinely impress you

and with every successful trick you’d clap your hands with stars in your eyes and fondly coo at it

and it would eat all of your praise up – with every flirty behaviour you would enable it with more positive reinforcement, spurring it to get bolder and bolder and ace is absolutely dying next to you

ace has a habit of ruffling your hair so tsum ace likes to sit on your head as you go about your day and everyone can swear they see sparkles surrounding the two of you

(ace doesn’t notice because that’s what you look like to him anyway)

you even gave mini ace the glacé cherry on the iced bun you had for dessert that day, hand-feeding the sweet fruit right into the little tsum’s mouth right in front of Ace’s cherry pie (and no, not even the taste of his favourite food can wash away the bitterness corroding his tongue at the sight of you and his tsum getting all buddy-buddy, not when something so much sweeter is just out of his reach)

quit paying attention to it! doesn’t it have its own y/n to flirt with?!

then, at one point, tsum ace has conjured up a tiny rose and has gifted it to you

“for me,” you smile at the tsum and the tsum nods, happily jumping up and down in front of you, “oh you shouldn’t have.”

you carefully take the rose from the tsum and gently pick the tsum up and place a kiss right on its head

“thank you, tsum ace,” you say, giggling with fondness, “that’s for being such a sweetheart.”

ace’s hand clenches around his magic pen and he swears right then and there that it’s no more mister nice guy – no more hiding behind poorly crafted taunts in fear of what ifs

he’s confessing to you by the end of the day even if it kills him

🦁 LEONA KINGSCHOLAR 🦁

honestly, leona couldn’t care less about the little things that came from the sky - not his circus, not his monkeys

though he was kind of miffed when his dorm thought he had turned into that stubby little thing

he’s surrounded by idiots

he just palmed his own tsum off to ruggie and went off to the botanical gardens to nap

it was during one of his relaxation sessions that he heard your voice, only you were talking to someone

turns out that ‘someone’ was his own tsum that was happily snoozing on your shoulder

apparently the little guy didn’t take kindly to being babysat by ruggie so it literally hunted you down and refused to leave your side

you didn’t see any problem with this

so you just continued on with your day with a tiny version of the big kitty of savanaclaw

please understand that leona is a very jealous and greedy lion - he gets incredibly possessive if stray cats get close to you, let alone when you shower Grim with your affection - and now there’s an equally as greedy mini leona that’s demanding your attention

like it made it clear that it was trying to monopolize your attention, tail swaying in delight as you would pet its head or play with its ears - all things that you’d do with the bigger leona

it would jump up and press its head against your forehead, cheeks and mouth so you would kiss it back with your own lips (and leona just looks at the little judas all betrayed because you’ve never kissed him ever and he’s just so angry and jealous that he doesn’t even tease you about it)

so instead of spending time with him, where he rests his head on your thighs as you weave your fingers through his hair, you’re playing around with the tsum, giving it the affection that was rightfully his

at one point, it was still dozing off so you placed it nice and snug in the breast pocket of your blouse, making Leona’s right eye twitch uncontrollably when he could tell that the little deviant wasn’t even actually sleeping

honestly, he scoffs, faking sleep is the oldest trick in the book - and he knows that because he uses it on you all the time

you even played chess with it, and to leona’s surprise it was actually pretty good, only his slight amusement at watching you lose was tainted by how you were suddenly praising it for being such a good player - he’s good too! praise him!

he had finally reached his limit when his tiny doppelganger used its growing abilities to be large enough for you to wrap your arms around and bury your face into, your lovely features smiling in content as you happily sleep, unaware of the burning jealousy and intense scowl leona is giving the tsum in your embrace, or of the smug satisfaction said tsum is radiating

now leona is a man of strategy, of patiently waiting until it’s the right time to pounce, so for now he’ll just settle at baring his fangs at the little runt - he’s spent his entire life being second best (both to his brother, his nephew, that damned lizard), there is no way he’s going to be outshone by a furball that has no idea of the hierarchy of the food chain here. you’re the one thing in his life that he refuses to have taken away, even if it is by himself

and when you wake up?

you better be prepared

💙 IDIA SHROUD 💙

tsum tsum idia is such a sweetheart

while it does have idia’s social anxiety, he does hang around with you through the halls though by ‘hang around’ he’s usually buried in your pockets

tsum idia doesn’t have og idia’s fire hair but it does run naturally warm, which makes it the perfect warm pillow for you to snuggle with

idia didn’t have any strong feelings for his tsum. ortho loved it and it made you happy and that was it.

but it soon became a problem when it made you too happy

you see, idia had made a tiny little tablet so that you could play with the tsum whilst he was busy doing one of his own games

and like his counterpart, the tsum was good

too good

so good that you kept on praising it and snuggling with it every time it won

and apparently the tsum was in possession of some preloaded charm stats because it would keep on endearing you by texting you blue heart emojis or cute stickers that would make you coo at it

and watching you be so outwardly affectionate to someone that wasn’t ortho or grim definitely stung inside

even if that someone was a cuter, cuddlier, plush bean version of himself

so he just amped up the volume in his headset to drown out the sounds of your laughter and continued playing as he internally lamented how he was such a boring otaku that even a tsum has better moves than him

when it got late and you were about to leave (much to idia’s disappointment), you stood up only for the tsum to jump onto your shoulder and happily jump in place

“oh,” you giggle, “do you want to come to ramshackle with me?”

the tsum jumped up and down, indicating yes

“alright then,” you smile and turn to idia, “i guess we’ll see yo-”

“no-” he blurted out, the ends of his hair bursting into pink at the sudden silence that envelops the room, “i-i mean, you can stay. here. not here my room here - like here in ignihyde here. we have a spare room. unless you’d like to sleep over here in my room. if you want to that is. you don’t have to if you don’t want to infactyoucanforgetievensaidanythingohmysevenwhydidihavetoopenmymouth-”

“it’s okay, idia, i understand,” you say, “looks like we’re having a sleepover!”

maybe he should be a bit braver more often

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #deuce spade x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #leona kingscholar x reader #idia shroud x reader #ace trappola x reader #fem reader

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impactrueno · 11 days ago

Note

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice #lydia deetz #beetleposting #beetlebabes #<- added for those who would prefer to not see this stuff but i didn't intend this to be a shippy post #spoilers: it's very one sided. but it IS all from his POV so you can kinda expect him to be...him #if you're a shipper who's just checking the tag then uhhh hi! i feel like i'm intruding lmao

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minkieater · 2 months ago

Text

carousel – choi san ☄. *. ⋆

p. choi san x fem!reader g. non idol au, college boy!san w. smut minors dni PLS, alcohol consumption, smut is kinda kinky, toxic relationship, uhh san rocks you suck an. hello please don't be mad at me this had to happen for the lore, i also had to name you, apologies, if you share a name with shawty then congrats! if you've read luck you'll see some familiar stuff here, feel free to let me know anything you pick up on heheheh but seriously pls don't be mad at me wc. 10.7k

♫ – tear you apart, she wants revenge “it's only just a crush, it'll go away, it's just like all the others it'll go away or maybe this is danger and he just don't know”

cycle (sī-kel) noun a course or series of events or operations that recur regularly and usually lead back to the starting point

choi san regularly bounced between two moods.

the first being a state of contentment, the second being complete and utter destruction. when he was content, the two of you were usually on good terms, and he felt good enough that he could keep his life on track. he could get his work done, he could go to classes, he could socialize with his peers with a smile on his face.

when that peace was disturbed, more often than not by you, he was an absolute train wreck. all he could think about was you you you and when the two of you would fix things, if the two of you were really done this time, if he could reconcile the situation. sitting in class, remembering choreography at practice, being behind the bar at work… he couldn’t do a damn thing right. it wouldn’t be surprising if he forgot his own name when you were on bad terms.

san has never been a fighter. when arguments arise he’s usually never the one that starts them, he’s the one begging to end them, opting for a peaceful compromise instead. despite the way he looks, san is a softie, something that took you by surprise and kept you by his side for almost a year.

you know him. you know his favorite color, his favorite show, his favorite album, his parents’ names, where he grew up, why he’s in school, who’s putting him through school, his biggest fear, his dream in life. you see how he looks at you, how he drops everything for you in a second, how he talks about you when you aren’t around to defend yourself. you know him better than you know yourself sometimes — you’ve been two peas in a pod since the beginning of your sophomore year, but yet the same question remains. one he’s asked you hundreds of times, one you could never find an answer to without breaking his heart.

so instead you pick fights, argue to your heart’s content, damn near terrorize him on the regular just for the same fact to be true: choi san also knows everything about you.

he knows exactly why you aren’t together, why you beat around the bush every time he asks you that same question, the sole reason why you freak the fuck out every time he asks you to give him just a little bit more. choi san knows very well that his love is unrequited, and he understands even the things you won’t tell him. he knows who you really love, he knows you’ve loved him since the summer before your freshman year, when you met at that concert. he notices when your eyes are the brightest, who you’re looking at when he wished you were looking at him, when you laugh the loudest. he notices everything.

if he’s anything, it’s observant. he’s been hanging out with you and your friends since way before he was your little secret, he’s been on your friends’ rooftop for parties more times than he can count. the first time the two of you slept together he couldn’t believe it was actually happening, the second you looked at him with lowered eyes and glossy lips he thought his eyes had been deceiving him for months prior. you looked at him like he was your last meal, your prey that you caught with your bare hands, you needed to have him or you’d die of starvation. he let you take the reins, took it all in with open arms, he wasn’t going to question a thing. for how long you had been obsessed with chan, he’d been obsessed with you.

you’d met early in your freshman year, when chan had first gotten his apartment shared with three others, when they first started throwing their legendary parties that had been the talk of campus for ages to follow. san had gotten the invite through wooyoung, his best friend, whose close friend has dated chan’s roommate since freshman year. the moment he first saw you was nothing short of a movie scene, you were on the dance floor, definitely one too many drinks deep. you were dancing with felix, holding his hand, twirling your hair as he spun you in a circle. your smile, your eyes that were shut so delicately, your body that moved with such a fluidity, you were the embodiment of freedom. you looked like you couldn’t care less about anything, like the moon went down and the sun came up just so you could breathe another day. the world revolved around you. it was like everything he had ever done in his life leading up to this moment, each decision he made was to get him on this rooftop at this moment in the middle of soho.

san had a few drinks himself and found himself on the dance floor right beside you. minho was with him, a close friend from his dance class, and then felix beside you. he couldn’t help but steal you for himself. he brought out the dancer inside of him but still followed your lead, spun you himself just as felix had, let your backside dance across his front one too many times for comfort. you picked up on how he was holding back, letting himself match you instead of taking the lead, and you couldn’t ignore how it sparked your interest. anyone besides felix that wasn’t in your group of close friends would be mindlessly grinding against you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk, but not him.

for a moment you let yourself think the bar is deep in hell, then you introduced yourself (more like screamed your name at him) over the pounding music that could be heard two blocks down. the first thing you noticed were his broad shoulders before you took in the rest of his clearly strong build. complex, fox-like eyes that held too much power in them and a sweet smile that contrasted his hard demeanor, it all vexed you, but intrigued you so much more.

out of everything, his hands give you the most whiplash. where they were long and limber they felt soft and warm, even the calluses on his palms somehow felt softer than every man you’ve ever come in contact with. compared to his chest which felt hard and strong, the contradicting features forced your mind straight in the gutter. there’s no doubt he’s beautiful, anyone could see that from first glance, but in that deep, hypnotizing voice he has, you could hear what kept itself hidden. it was a facade, that build and sexy voice, you could tell just from a few words that he’s not what he appears to be.

at first glance you’d assume he was just like any typical guy, buff and egotistical and harsh. but looking for a moment in those eyes, listening to that soft voice, you could hear what he wasn’t saying, like his thoughts were being displayed for you on a silver platter. they enticed you to dig deeper, peel him open layer by layer, find out what no one else knows. beyond warm hands and a sturdy build, there was a softness to him that wasn’t inside of any other man on that rooftop. except one other.

by the end of the night, minho had led san to the notorious smoking corner, where he’d come to learn the same people tend to gather and hangout towards the end of the night. thankfully, one of those people was you, and the rest of your little group of friends that he’d later come more than acquainted with. none of you really smoke, which was the weird part, the smokers would come and go around your seating area, but it was still named the smoking corner despite it.

“you said your name was san, right?” you asked, an inviting smile on your face as he sat down right next to you on one of the cushioned chairs. it happened to be the only one open and had him thanking a god he didn’t believe in for the small favor.

he nodded quickly, tight lipped smile on his face, dimples on display. even with the liquor he was nervous, he wasn’t one to spark up conversation, especially at a party like this. “you’re a dancer?”

“how’d you know?” your smile somehow got bigger, eyes widening with surprise, “i’ve danced my whole life.”

he shrugs, “one dancer to another.”

“you go to NYU?” you asked, turning your body to face him in your own chair.

“dance program, i’m in the same hip hop class as minho,” he pointed to minho who was standing somewhere to the side of the two of you.

“ah,” you nod with a smile, “that makes sense, i’m in the theater program, i originally wanted to be in the dance program, though.”

“hey guys,” the two of you looked up at the same time, another pair of broad shoulders, massive biceps, and a beautiful smile staring straight at you. you could feel your heart rate pick up, your breath get caught in your throat, a heat cascading over you like the rooftop had suddenly raised fifteen degrees.

san could feel his smile leave his face as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. the way your eyes lit up, the pink that raised to your cheeks, how you slightly stumbled over your words when you first spoke to him, he tried not to let his expression drop to a scowl. he knows you like him, maybe even love him, he couldn’t decide from the short interaction between the three of you. not that he wanted to know, anyways.

san decided then and there that chan was his enemy, a one sided war he was willing to put up the good fight for. from a quick dance and a conversation, he had decided you were worth the fight, you were worth the long game, you were worth whatever it took to get you. he thinks it shouldn’t be too hard to win you over, with some effort and consistency, he should be the one you look at the way he desperately wants you to in no time. he knew he was good looking, he sees how women fawn over him left and right at parties, only sometimes letting them get any further then silly attempts to take him home. that ping of jealousy only jumpstarts his motivation, begs him to tap into whatever is making these women throw themselves at him.

five parties and three months later, you made him feel like he was in the lead. small conversations here and there, longer dances that with each party turned more and more scandalous, once or twice you clearly felt him behind you on the dance floor and you didn’t pull away, you kept going until you made it so evident he couldn’t hide it in his jeans. moments of hands brushing and stolen glances across the smoking corner, he waited long enough, but he’d wait however long it took for you.

the night when you gave him that look that he knew meant you were taking him home, he couldn’t contain his excitement, he couldn’t hide anything from you already. you could see it all over his face, he could tell from the smirk you wore on your own lips and the cocky laugh you let out. you were playing with fire, and his specialty was water.

you knew he wanted you from the first time you met. whether he knew it about himself or not, despite his easygoing words and soft hands, you knew there was a side to him you desperately needed to unveil, you needed to experience, you needed to know like the back of your hand. it felt like tainting his innocence the more you got to know him, his personality reflected the opposite of what he portrayed on the outside. from that hard, chiseled look he has to the soft, tender persona, you wanted to tear him apart. you wanted to know what made him tick, what pissed him off, what got under his skin, how he acted when it did.

you had him exactly where you wanted him, and he was letting it happen, fully aware of the attraction that was finally being returned. you looked at him differently that night, and unbeknownst to him, it was deliberate.

chan was out of sight, off with some dark haired girl he met hours prior. you watched the scene unfold in front of you, from when they exchanged names and phone numbers down to the moment when chan took her hand and led her inside his apartment. you watched them over heads through the dance floor, keeping your vision focused on the two of them like some fucked up form of tunnel vision. like what they say about trainwrecks, you should look away, but for some reason you can’t. your skin was burning, you were beyond angry, feeling an emotion that laid somewhere outside of what you’d ever experienced toward him. betrayal? abandonment? treachery?

none of your feelings were valid, chan had no idea how you felt, you never told him. he was more than allowed to take whatever dark haired bitch he wanted into his own damn apartment that seungmin’s dad pays for, that’s more than permissible. you have an apartment too, one that you and your roommate pay for yourselves, one that you could also take someone back to. your life didn’t revolve around him, his actions would not determine how your night would go, despite the feelings you have for him.

that’s when choi san caught your eye, across the crowd with his gorgeous face and incredible body. you felt the light bulb flash above your head, you knew exactly what would take the edge off, what would mend the heart chan had just broken in two.

“you know, we always hangout here, but we never see each other outside of these parties,” you flipped your hair over your shoulder, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“never thought you wanted to,” he shrugs, lowered eyes watching your every move like he was waiting for the switch to flip.

“and why wouldn’t i want to? have you looked in a mirror recently?” it felt lame when it left your mouth, he didn’t seem to agree as a faint blush crept onto his cheeks. he turned away from you, a low chuckle leaving his lips.

“every morning at the gym, gotta make sure my form is right,” his shy smile turned into a faint smirk, and your own grows, hints of mischief creeping at the corners. you knew exactly what he was doing, mentioning the gym. like a moth to a flame, your eyes glazed over his biceps, which he flexed the moment your eyes left his.

“every morning? very disciplined, aren’t you?” you ask, smile turning lopsided and nothing short of flirty.

“very,” he nodded his head, “you should come with me sometime, get you some discipline, too.”

“and what about me makes you think i’m not disciplined?” your eyebrows furrow, tilting your head.

with that question his smile grows, dimples showing themselves once more. “brats always need discipline, and that’s exactly what you are. a little tease.”

your smile displays all of your teeth, exactly the answer you were hoping for. the side you knew he had in him, that version of him not many get to see, excitement flooded through you like a tidal wave. you were on a power trip, your plan worked with ease, you wanted to pat yourself on the back.

“do something about it,” you sipped your drink through your tiny straw, staring at him through your lashes once again.

within thirty minutes you were back at your place in manhattan, your roommate still at the party, you didn’t even let her know you left. in that one conversation you’d forgotten all about chan, the girl with the dark hair, and why you were in this situation in the first place. all you could think about was san, with his dark chocolate eyes and honeyed skin and arms strong enough to flip you around. you were overflowing with adrenaline, excitement, and greed. you wanted all of him, needed all of him, a need that has been lying dormant for months. you’d been curious about him, wanted to know what he kept hidden inside, too focused on chan to dig deeper into him.

san couldn’t fucking believe it. couldn’t believe he was in your bed, your walls that were covered in posters of rock bands and singers from the 80s, some faces he’s seen before and plenty of others he hasn’t. records cover one wall, soundtracks from different musicals, little trinkets filling every inch of open space on your bookshelves. your room was so undeniably you, from the smell to the color scheme, he took every inch of it and burned it to memory. he tried not to stare too much in his learning, telling himself to focus on you instead, he’d he back, this isn’t a one time thing. he couldn’t be more right.

the moment his lips touched yours he couldn’t believe he’d gone so long without tasting you. a kiss so sweet, so rushed, so hungry, he’d never felt anything like it. he knew you'd wreck him, become too important to him, become a valued person in his life, for a moment he thought maybe he should stop – this was all too good to be true.

when you whimpered in his mouth after a light grind to his crotch, he took all of his thoughts back. there was no stopping this, no hands could pry him off of you, he needed to see every bit of you. he needed to kiss every inch of your skin, inhale the scent of your sweat, he yearned to worship you. he wanted all of you, he needed to rein himself in, not get too excited so he could last.

you fought for dominance on his lap, tongues in a rushed wrestle, strong thighs wrapped around his hips. as those soft hands of his squeezed the fat of your ass, you let out a yelp, grinding yourself into him. you wanted to hear any kind of noise, any harsh breath he might release. you wanted control, he didn’t want to give it up, at least not without a fight.

he scooped your waist with one arm, flipping you over, pressing you flat against the mattress. you mustered out a hushed fuck as the realization finally hit you: his biceps aren’t just for aesthetics, the sheer strength of one is enough to throw you around, and it’s strength he will use to his advantage.

“as much as i want to be thrown around,” you broke the kiss for a moment, “save it for the next time.”

you wrapped your legs around his waist and lunged yourself forward with your hands, hips on top of his once more, your bodies sitting upright. as much as you wanted to revel in the gain of dominance, you knew he just willingly allowed you to do that, he could’ve stopped you with ease if he wanted to.

“see what i mean? brat,” he broke the kiss again with a huff, a smirk painting his own lips for a moment before returning them to yours.

your right hand moved up to grip his throat, pushing him an inch away from you. on his lap you were taller, staring down at him, he looked up at you with a spark in his eyes you haven't seen yet. his eyebrows furrowed, not in confusion or hurt, but want. need. he liked this, he wanted this, and you couldn’t help the wicked smile that touched every feature on your face.

“watch your mouth,” you tilted your chin up, looking down at him at a harsher angle, the act itself a display of dominance. in combination with the harsh tone to your words, he nearly quivered in your grasp. a strangled groan left his lips as your grip tightened for a moment, blocking his airway, before releasing him completely. you reached for the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head with ease.

“look at you, so fucking sexy,” you said as the cotton hit the floor, examining his exposed upper half in awe. chiseled abs, even sitting down, and a chest you’re sure could knock you out if it came in contact with your head. he was beautiful, perfect even, not an inch of him unsculpted.

his breath turned heavy under your stare, eyes lowering into a different version of himself, a submission of sorts. he had no fight left in them, he gave up control, let you take it, and you were going to run with it.

you brought your lips to his jaw, kissing down his neck, hands running over every inch of bare skin. he tugged at your top at the same time, tugging it over your head, unclasping your bra with just one hand.

“done that before?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a playful smile, and he chuckled.

“once or twice,” his reply was mindless as you fumbled with his belt buckle beneath you, slipping it out of the loops, throwing it to the floor.

“hungry?” you asked and his eyes quickly met yours, confusion crossing them before realization set in. you didn’t wait for an answer as you pushed him back on the bed with your index finger to his chest, not having to muster up any force at all.

you quickly sat up and slipped off your jeans and underwear, leaving yourself bare in front of him. he leaned up on his elbows for just a moment before you crawled back on top of him, further up his body until you sat right over his face.

“no touching unless i tell you to,” your voice was stern, he nodded in understanding and you took that as the green light to plant yourself on his awaiting face.

you moaned the moment his tongue came in contact with your soaked center, lapping up everything you had to offer. you stilled for a moment, letting him work himself on you, his tongue gliding through your wetness.

“fuck, sannie, so fucking good,” you moaned out, a hand reaching down to tug at his styled black hair. he groaned in response, hands lifting off of the bed, but they didn’t touch you, didn’t even come close.

you started riding his face and he stuck his tongue out in response to your movements, letting you have your way with him, grinding back and forth to use him for your own release. if you weren’t gone in your own pleasure you would’ve smiled at the eagerness, the willingness to please you.

“fingers, please baby,” you gasped out, babbling your words, “need you to make me cum. you wanna make me cum, don’t you? all over your face?”

his right hand came between your legs to slip two fingers inside of you, mouth moving up to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves. he curved his fingers toward himself immediately, hitting that one spot inside of you that made you see stars, you started babbling and whining praise like you’d been doing this together for years.

“so fucking good sannie, fuck,” you cried out, grinding yourself against him, the knot in your stomach tightening with every harsh suck to your clit. he brought his other hand up to smack your ass and you moaned out, the dam bursting, your release coating his fingers, past his knuckles. you rode out your high, his fingers and mouth working in tandem to get you through it before overstimulation set in.

“mm, taste so fucking good baby, could eat you all night,” he announced the second you lifted yourself off of him, his voice octaves lower than earlier. you watched as he licked his lips so erotically, the action making you want to sit yourself back on his face and ride him until he couldn’t breathe.

you sat next to him on the bed after climbing off of him instead, your orgasm took the need for control right out of you, you had your fill. you wanted to be taken care of, filled up, you didn’t want to think about anything other than your own pleasure. always observant san picked up in your change of energy, letting his own switch to another before continuing.

“need to be inside you,” he said as he sat up, taking his jeans and boxers off in one go, “you have a condom?”

you shimmied yourself down the bed, head hitting the pillow before you shook it, “‘m on the pill.”

“dirty girl, where did that energy from earlier go? hm?” that dangerous smirk returned to his face, his dominance returning in just one sentence, “did i eat it all out of you? wanna be a good girl for me now?”

he leaned himself over you, strong arms beside your head caging you in. you lifted your knees up to your elbows, spreading yourself for him.

“shut up,” you mumbled, feeling the tinge of embarrassment, “fuck me already.”

“that wasn’t very polite, thought you were ready to behave,” he shook his head, “only girls with manners get fucked. should i put my pants back on, go back home?”

“no! no, don’t go,” your arms came up to grab onto his, your eyes widening, “i’m sorry, i’ll be good. please, san, i need you.”

a wicked smile crossed his face before he leaned down to plant a kiss on your own, “good, i hoped so. breathe for me, okay?”

you glanced down between your legs, realizing you hadn’t even seen him. you nearly gasped at the size of him, eyes widening, his length was perfect but the girth of him was more than intimidating. he spit into his hand, stroking himself, lubing himself up to slide into you easier. you nearly drooled at the sight, mouth agape, pussy clenching around nothing.

the whole act felt so sinful, so carnal, you so easily opened up to him with a side of yourself you don’t show until you’re fully comfortable. you blame your adrenaline, your hormones, how horny you were when you arrived, ignoring the real fact of how comfortable he made you feel to show so much of yourself to him.

as he lined himself up you couldn’t ignore how it all felt right, you’ve had undeniable attraction to him for months now, but this… this was something entirely different. this was a beginning, the prologue chapter of a novel, the first episode to seasons spent with him. when he pushed himself into you and you had to physically remind yourself to breathe, you had to acknowledge that he fit so perfectly with you, his body felt like it was meant to be above yours. these weren’t feelings of a quick fuck, feelings from a one night stand, this was raw, intimate, unique. special.

“so fucking big,” you huffed out, voice strained, eyes squeezed shut, fingers clawing at his biceps.

“breathe, baby, you got it,” he praised you, encouraged you, and it did what it needed to. you breathed in and out, let him sheathe himself inside of you. as he bottomed out he groaned, a beautiful noise, one that could lure you to sleep if you heard it enough. he stayed there for a moment, letting you get used to the stretch, letting you relax around him.

“so fuckin’ tight, baby, breathe,” he instructed, leaning down on his elbows to kiss you, distract you, take your mind off of the stretch. you tried your best to relax your muscles, unclench yourself from around him.

“there you go,” his praises were a sweet song, easing you out of discomfort, “tell me when i can move.”

you waited a few moments, returning your lips to his before grinding yourself against him. you felt your slick coating him, helping you glide up and down, and he let you for a moment — just a moment before he knew for sure you were comfortable.

he pulled all the way out before bottoming out once more, and you yelped into his mouth, breaking the kiss to let your head lean back into the pillow.

“there it is, there we fucking go,” he mumbled as he started on a rhythm, “good fucking girl.”

a string of moans left your lips, your hands still clawing at his biceps, body reacting to him without your brain allowing it. “so fucking good sannie.”

“thought you were so fucking badass earlier, huh? ordering me around like i’m your bitch?” that smirk returned to his lips again and all you could do was moan, staring at him through half lidded eyes, “look at you now, baby. all lifeless and limp, all for this dick?”

“yes, san, all for you. just for you,” you mumble, words jumbling together, not knowing if your words even sounded clear.

“yeah, baby, just as i thought, all for me,” he pistols himself into you, grabbing your hips, making you meet his thrusts. you were losing your strength, letting him have his way with you, just an incoherent mess beneath him.

he reaches forward and grabs your jaw, “don’t go anywhere, eyes on me.”

you look up to him, eyes wide, that fuzzy space you were slipping into locked away for now, “you can go there eventually, not yet, not this time.”

your eyes started to roll back as he shifted his hips upward, the mushroom tip of him rolling against that one spot so deliciously. with how quickly that knot formed once more in your stomach, you were surprised that drool wasn’t slipping down your chin.

“right there, please don’t stop, gonna make me cum,” you can’t even hear yourself, so drunk on his dick, his assertiveness, you loved it. you’d never had your energy matched like this, never had a fuck like this, never had someone know you so quickly and easily.

“hold it,” he ordered, and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. how could he expect you to hold it, when he was hitting that spot too perfectly, doing everything in his power to get you there?

“i swear, do not fucking cum,” he smacked your hip and tears formed in your eyes trying to hold it, fighting every nerve in your body to not release around him.

“i can’t! i can’t,” you babble, tears falling down your cheeks, and he released a long fuck, his voice dropping even lower.

“cum for me, want you to cum around me, please,” his orders turned to begs quickly after he saw your tears. he leaned forward to wipe them off your face, bringing his fingers up to his lips. the string snapped and you gushed around him, legs shaking, a loud cry leaving your lips, probably heard in queens from the sheer volume of it.

“where do you want me?” he quickly asked, his own words sounding shaky, slurring together.

“inside, inside,” you begged, reaching up to cup his cheeks. he leaned down to kiss you as he released himself inside you, filling you up, thrusts slowing as he worked himself through it.

he stayed there for a moment, forehead pressed against yours, heavy breaths being poured into each other’s mouths. he sighed as his forearms began to shake, finally pulling out of you, laying next to you.

“you okay?” he turned his head at the same time as you turned yours, eyes sharing too much of something yet saying nothing of it.

“‘m great, you?” you cracked a smile, the both of you still somewhere that wasn’t here, slowly coming back from two completely different headspaces. he nodded, returning the smile, and the two of you laid there for what felt like ages.

sleeping with san was something outside of anything you’ve ever done. you’d slept with plenty of people, had plenty of experiences, explored what you liked and didn’t through many trials and errors. to have such an incredible first experience with someone, to have it flow so easily, to match each other so perfectly… it was almost unbelievable, it set unrealistic expectations for anyone you’d ever sleep with again.

you needed him that night, needed that experience, needed whatever was going to distract you from whatever the hell chan was doing – and it worked. you needed that distraction for months to follow as chan continued to see the dark haired girl, who’s name you came to find out was eden, always hanging around on the rooftop, following him wherever he went. like a roach, never wanted, yet never went away.

months you spent cooped up in your room, anger flowing through your blood as you watched his instagram stories, cute pictures of her posted every day. posed pictures together in times square, clubs on the weekends, clips of them getting drinks together on a random weekday afternoon. you couldn’t help but pick everything apart – what they were doing was touristy, corny, nothing you would do with him, nothing you would enjoy. you knew chan didn’t enjoy any of that, either.

every time you pictured dates with him or fantasized about any time spent with him alone was always private, intimate, enriching – you’d be painting together, drinking wine in your living room as you played your favorite board game, watching a tv show from start to finish together. you were in the same major, maybe even studying together, bouncing ideas off of one another for assignments or projects, but nothing so flashy. chan hates time square, hates drinking in the middle of the day, and especially hates clubs unless there was a special occasion. you knew all of these things, you knew him, you felt the same way as him. yet he was still doing all of those things with her, playing in her garden, wasting his time when he should be focused on school, his career, his future, you.

in those months there was only one thing that could make you forget about chan, forget about eden, forget about the situation altogether. during class you were frustrated, in auditions, rehearsals, you couldn’t even study without the tv on and music playing simultaneously. if you had a singular moment of silence your brain took you back to him, took you back to what you could’ve had, what you never tried for in the first place. it was debilitating not being able to get anything done, being so one track minded, the only thing that could make you focus was san. you’d text him daily, always asking him to come over, always ending the night between his thighs.

he always came, he always said yes, he never once said no to you. he didn’t ask any questions, didn’t make you explain your frustrations, only listened when you did speak about trivial things like school or rehearsal. you didn’t want his opinion, didn’t want his advice, only his company and the pleasure he never had any difficulty in giving you. it was perfect for those months, in your own world, the sanctuary you created in your bedroom with choi san.

the moment when your relationship changed, you didn’t notice. there was no light bulb, no moment where you consciously started looking at him differently, yet it changed without your knowing or consent. you didn’t acknowledge it when you did notice, you didn’t want to, your heart was saved for another. yet you still talked about everything together, did all of those little things you dreamed of doing with chan. your fears, your dreams, your childhood, your favorite things, you began to know him so intimately without being aware of it. you watched grey’s anatomy with him, you played video games, you drew funky little doodles of each other on your notebooks.

you started to crave him when he wasn’t around, and not just because he was your distraction, but a friend. he was good for you, he encouraged you to be consistent with school, you practiced lines with him, sang duets from different musicals with him. your relationship was raw, it was truth, it was naked, it was everything you wished for, it was everything you needed at that time.

san fell for you. he fell so fucking hard, so headfirst, it was a bottomless pit with no end in sight and he couldn’t stop himself from digging further. everything he saw in you that first night was still there, only amplified into something he couldn’t hide anymore. he was at your beck and call, anything you needed, any time of day. he knew why you were so attached to him, he figured it out the second he went to the rooftop with wooyoung again, high off of his night spent with you, ready to see you again. when you were nowhere to be seen and he caught chan with his arm around the girl from his contemporary class, he put the pieces together quick. he knew you must be heartbroken, knew you needed support, a friend who knew nothing about the situation. it quickly made him realize his place in your relationship.

he fought through the horrific realization with optimism, the returning thought that with time you’d see, you’d realize he was better for you than chan could ever be. as he spent more time with you and got to know you better, it only made his feelings deepen. your laugh, your thoughts, your competitive side, the way you’re so quick to fight back and assert your dominance, but give it up even faster… it was like an addiction, it wasn’t good for him, he knew it wasn’t, he knew it when his grades first started to slip. when he wasn’t on point at practice, too sleep deprived to remember choreography. minho read it all over him, knew something was wrong, knew san had gotten into something he shouldn’t have.

“what’s up with you, man? this isn’t like you,” it was a rough practice that day. san was sat on the floor with his knees hugged tight to his chest, rubbing his eyes to force the exhaustion out of them.

“just an off day,” is all san mumbled before he stood up slowly, grabbing his bag to sling over his shoulder.

“off day? you’ve been fucking up for the past week, san, you’re center,” minho put his hand on san’s shoulder, stopping him before he walked away, “they’re gonna put someone else there if you don’t get your shit together.”

“i get it, minho,” san turned his back, and minho’s grip only got tighter.

“what the hell is going on?” he asked, turning san to face him, “you can talk to me, we’re friends, you know.”

san’s hand returned to his face, trying to rub off his discomfort, this feeling that he should keep everything to himself, “it’s a lot.”

“is it a girl?” minho was quick with the question, eyes lowered, seeming to read san before he could get any words out. he started to walk, keeping his hand on san’s shoulder, encouraging him to walk alongside him.

san answered with a coy nod, the answer seeming too taboo to say out loud. minho was a direct link to chan, he should be happy to talk about the fact that you were sleeping together. what he couldn’t shake off was the fear that you’d be angry at him for telling anyone.

“did you get her pregnant or something?” humor was laced in minho’s tone, trying to ease up the straightforwardness of the question, but he was genuinely worried by how san had been acting.

san gasped, “preg- no! god, no,” he shook his head, “i hope not.”

minho laughed, “that doesn’t sound convincing. if she’s not pregnant then there’s no reason to be so torn up, why are you?”

they walked out of the building into the wet humidity of the city air, “like i said, it’s a lot. it’s my fault, though.”

“quit beating around the bush and tell me,” minho stood still, staring at san expectantly, “you can trust me.”

“if i’m going to tell you, i need a beer.”

an hour later they were seated at prince, not a popular dive bar in the city, but popular amongst your group of friends and whoever they introduced to it. san nursed his beer, barely getting two sips in before he was spilling everything about the last six months to one of his best friends.

“i can’t wrap my head around why you keep fucking her if she loves another guy,” minho shrugs, “especially chan, at that. she’s been close with him since he moved to the city.”

“it’s not about fucking her,” san sighed, “i’m in too deep, i think i love her. even if i didn’t, and it was just about sex, it’s too good to stop.”

minho’s jaw physically drops, mouth hanging agape for a moment before he snaps it shut, straightening his left hand to start counting on his fingers, “so you love her, she doesn't know you love her, she loves someone else who’s in a relationship, and you spend every free moment with her. and you have so much sex you don’t sleep.”

san’s lips pull into a tight line, giving minho one long nod in response.

“there’s no way she doesn’t love you back if you’ve spent that much time together in six months, i can’t believe you kept all of this shit hidden for so long. you need to talk shit out, man.”

it was music to his ears, san’s entire body filled with a joy he’d never felt before when no way she doesn’t love you back left minho’s lips. he felt like he was putting a puzzle together in his brain, that actually made perfect sense, how could you not return anything he felt for you? you also experienced all your time together, got just as close to him as he did you.

he barely gave minho another half hour before he was barreling out of prince and on his way to your apartment.

“hey baby, how was practi-”

“i need to ask you a question.”

your head whipped to your front door, never hearing san sound so desperate outside of the bedroom. his eyes were blown, his eyebrows raised, fully out of breath from running up the flights of steps to your apartment. your blood ran cold, you knew this question was coming eventually, you were savoring every moment he didn't ask it. you stood slowly, facing him from the couch, eyes expectant.

“i’ll give you an answer,” you replied casually, keeping your voice steady.

“do you want to be with me?” his words felt empty, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say them, yet he still sounded like he’d been dying to ask the question for months. he didn’t blink, kept his shoulders back, dance bag dangling from his fingertips.

“san,” you said calmly, taking a step towards him.

“i don’t want to freak you out, please don’t freak out, it’s just been six months and i really enjoy you and your company and i love being around you, i love spending nights with you, the sex is incredible, everything just seems right,” a smile graces his lips with a pause. when you stared back at him in disbelief he panicked, his heart in his throat, “i’m sorry if i freaked you out, this is too much, isn’t it?”

you took a breath, closing your eyes for a moment. the day you’d been dreading had come – the end of a perfect half year.

“i can’t be in a relationship right now,” you blurt the first thing that came to mind, and his face dropped immediately. “i enjoy you, i love our time spent together, i love that you’re around all the time, you’ve been a huge help to me these past six months. i couldn’t of done it without you.”

you’ve been told these words before, you’ve been in his position before, you’re spouting the same venom that’s been thrown at you. you felt as if you were shoved in a corner, not fully believing your own words, but you needed an excuse more than you wanted to say the truth.

a sad smile crosses his face, “i get it.”

“i don’t want to stop whatever this is,” you walk closer to him, grabbing his hand, “and it could grow into something really great. i’m just not in a position to open my heart to anyone right now.”

“i know, baby. the last six months have been rough on you,” his heart melted, even if he knew the reason why, he also knew that it really did hurt you. you needed time to heal, time to focus on yourself, time to get back into the dating scene. he’d be there, first in line when you were ready.

“i knew you’d understand, thank you,” you stood on your toes, attaching your lips to his. ten minutes later you were on your knees, right back to normal like that conversation didn’t even happen.

in just two weeks you’d started going out more regularly again, meeting your friends at prince, going to chan’s rooftop whenever felix told you to come. your friends that noticed, despite you keeping your appearances up, asked where you’d been, why you’re back, and you gave them the sophomore year bullshit of classes were hard and summer is here again! at your age, parties were a dime a dozen, you had plenty of excuses to be out of the house and away from your issues, stopping reality from hitting you that you were playing with fire once again.

you did have feelings for san, even if it was your own fucked up version. there was no way you couldn’t with how much time you spent together, how much you know about him, how much you care for him. but the other problem that you will never forget is still there, staring at you from across his own rooftop.

you care for san, but the love you feel for bang christopher chan is so much fucking more.

“hey! i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages!” his smile is huge as he crosses the crowd, clinking his drink with your own. you blushed, that was basically him saying i missed you.

“same here, how’s everything been? happy classes are over?” you asked, gripping your drink a little tighter.

“incredibly happy classes are over, even happier this terrible fucking year is over,” he chuckled, “me and eden broke up, i don’t know if you heard. she cheated on me with some columbia architect, whatever.”

broke up? he’s… single again?

your jaw dropped, and you fought to keep the excitement to a minimum, “no, i didn’t know, i’m so sorry, channie. fuck her and that architect!”

he laughed again, a belly laugh that made you want to jump his bones, “what about you, though? seeing anyone?”

his question took you by surprise, “i- uh, no, i’m not,” your giggle was nervous, wanting to change the subject immediately. san crossed your mind, a thought you quickly shut down.

“you’re never seeing anyone, dude, we have to set you up with somebody, can’t go through your whole college experience without a shitty boyfriend or two,” it was a joke, a bad one, but it still made heat rise to your whole upper half. why was he asking? he’s never asked about your love life before.

“i’m good off a shitty boyfriend, i’d rather be alone if that’s the case,” you shake your head, then sip through your tiny straw.

“suit yourself,” he palmed your shoulder with a hand that completely enveloped it, and you felt the skin underneath burn.

you felt eyes boring into your head from behind you, and you quickly turned, scanning the area. you saw your roommate and her boyfriend in the smoking corner, minho and han, then san, who was leaning against the concrete of the wall separating the rooftop from the drop to the ground below. like a hawk, he watched you through lowered eyes, taking in every move. you quickly turned back around, expecting chan to still be there, but he was gone, probably off being a good host to his party. you wiped the chill off of you, finishing off your drink, dismissing the guilty feeling creeping up your spine because chan is single again. determination washes over you, this time you’d be hell bent upon telling him how you feel, finally getting your chance to be with him. it was your turn this time.

san was beyond frustrated. watching you talk to chan after all of these months, even from afar, picking up your body language, he was sick to his stomach. the way you shifted from foot to foot, unconsciously leaned into his touch, flipped your hair behind your back to show off your décolletage, san could pick up on exactly what you were thinking and he hated it.

san wasn’t in the lead, he was forever the number two, your favorite best kept hidden secret. he was sick of it, sick of being with you behind closed doors, sick of dropping everything for you, sick of being under your spell. he knew his place, knew it enough to where he didn’t even approach you on the rooftop. he knew there would be a call, a text, a fucking messenger pigeon that would get him in your bed tonight, he was sure of it. when chan went back inside the apartment for the night and didn’t have a soul beside him, he knew exactly how the outcome of the night would go, and he was excited for it.

as san slammed your apartment door shut behind him, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, turning to furrow your eyebrows. the two of you ended up leaving together, an outcome that wasn’t on his list of possibilities – no messenger pigeon needed. he was surprised, he didn’t think you’d even want to be seen getting in the same car as him.

“what was that for?” the slam startled you, it was unlike him, he was delicate with everything he did.

“i’m sick of this, ri,” he shook his head, standing by the entrance to your kitchen, not following you into the living room. your stomach dropped, you should’ve seen this coming.

“what do you mean?” you opted for obliviousness after a pause, unsure of how to go about this conversation again after your last one was just two weeks ago.

“i’m sick of being your secret, whatever the hell i am to you,” he ran a hand through his hair, “actually, that’s a good question. what am i to you, riley?”

you gulped, your eyes widening, coming to yet another moment of silence. you didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know how to tell him what you didn’t know yourself.

“you don’t know? or you know and can’t say it?” he understands your silence, using his hands as he speaks, “tell me the truth.”

“i don’t know, san, a friend?” your voice is unsure, small. you wanted to shrink yourself, wanted to be anywhere but here, having this conversation. this is the first time you’ve seen this side of him, you and san had never argued before, the last time you had this talk it didn’t have any anger or frustration.

“a friend? i’m a friend?” he laughs, a sarcastic chuckle that you’ve never heard leave his lips. you must’ve gotten away with it two weeks ago, this was really the end, there was only one way this talk could go. “a friend that knows every inch of you, a friend that’s spent more time here the past six months than the apartment they still pay rent at? that’s a fucking joke, riley.”

tears gathered in your eyes, ones that you weren’t exactly sure why they were there, you felt caught. bombarded with a choice you didn’t want to make. he was finally understanding your web of lies, finally over it, over you. you weren’t ready to let him go, you wanted to continue to live in your bubble with him, you wanted him to stay. you didn’t let them fall.

“what do you want me to say?” you don’t have a rebuttal, you don’t have any sly words that could change the topic, even momentarily change what he’s feeling. you chose anger, deflection.

“i want more, ri. i want you, i’ve wanted you since i met you. there’s no way you don’t know that,” he sighs, turning around, running that same hand through his hair.

“and i can’t give you more, san, so what do you want me to do? force myself into something i’m not ready for? i’ve told you my piece,” you walk towards him, standing just a few steps from him.

“no, riley, i don’t want you to force yourself into being with me, that’s ridiculous. when we’re in public you barely look at me, let alone speak to me. what are you so afraid of? why can’t anyone know about… this?” he turned around, his own eyes glossy, looking down at you through damp eyelashes. your blood ran cold, colder than it had been from the moment he slammed the door, that familiar guilty feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“why do you need people to know? why do you need our relationship to be publicized? is being with me, here like this, not enough for you?” the laugh you let out was dry, calculated, “if it’s not enough then maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

a small gasp left his lips, barely audible it could’ve been just an intake of air, his visage twisted the moment you spoke those words. with his lips and eyebrows turned downward, that slight anger, frustration, morphed into a sadness you never wanted to see again.

“that’s not what i want,” his voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard it, a shy mumble, his gaze pointed downward at his fingers which played with his rings. “i don’t want to fight with you.”

“i know, baby,” you stepped forward, placing a hand on his soft, reddened cheek, “i don’t want to fight with you, either. want you to be happy.”

“i’m happy with you,” his voice cracked, a raw tone, as he glanced back up at you. his eyes red, glossed over, full of emotion, it broke your heart. you could never truly make him happy, you knew that, but you could momentarily.

“then let me take care of you,” and that you did, like you always did, the same way you did two weeks ago. you rode him to oblivion, until he forgot why he was upset in the first place, the same thing he did for you six months ago.

a week later, you’d fought again. plenty of times.

almost every day for the whole week you started an argument over something so fucking stupid and you couldn’t stop. everything he did pissed you off, every time he tried to fix it, it pissed you off even more. you were overflowing with so many different emotions you couldn’t breathe, you needed space, you needed him, you needed chan. you were too overstimulated to think clearly, if you were ever thinking clearly to begin with.

the guilt from not returning his feelings, but not being at ease when he isn’t sleeping in your bed.. it didn’t make any sense. you felt insane, suffocated in the overwhelming feelings you couldn’t bring yourself to return. you liked san, you liked everything about him, but the fervent feelings he had towards you mirrored what you felt for chan.

there was now nothing left unsaid. there was no unspoken deal between you anymore, no weapon left to use to let yourself get off without consequence. you were uncomfortable, uncomfortable with his feelings, uncomfortable with your own, you felt shoved in a corner you couldn’t walk away from.

the only things that stayed consistent in that week were chan’s rooftop, chan’s living room, and his incessant need to talk to you every damn time you were there.

san felt like he was losing his goddamn mind.

he wished he could go back in time and take back everything he said, his confession, his feelings, he had ruined everything. you would go from not answering him to getting pissed off that he answered your text with ok instead of okay… it seemed like he couldn’t do anything right, in a constant state of fear that today would be the day you break it off with him for real.

his day to day life was only getting worse. he was making cocktails wrong at work, not replacing ice, handing the wrong beer to patrons at the bar. he got replaced again in his spot for his dance class, reprimanded by his teacher, minho gave him not one but two additional talks about getting his shit together.

he hadn’t seen you since the night you argued two weeks ago, he hasn’t even been going out for just a glimpse of you, he’s been playing catch up for what felt like weeks. to make matters worse, he was pent up, he’d been so used to a consistent sex life, he needed release. he needed a night to let go of you, all of the whiplash he’d endured for weeks now, he needed a night to just be himself. to forget.

he called wooyoung, his best friend who was always out in the city, always had plans. thankfully he was going to a club that night to celebrate your roommate’s recent internship acceptance. wooyoung assured him that you wouldn’t be there, it would only be a couple of your roommates' close friends. he didn’t ask why you wouldn’t be there, he tried to convince himself he didn’t care, he needed to start forgetting now.

he hopped out of bed and got ready fast, the clock already past eight, and headed over to meet the group before going to the club. they were all familiar faces from the rooftop, despite him only knowing wooyoung super intimately. all of the nights he spent at your apartment your roommate was usually at her boyfriend’s, and if she wasn’t, her and her boyfriend were cooped up in her bedroom.

but here he was, in a club he’s never heard of in the middle of manhattan celebrating her.

“have a drink, sannie, do something,” wooyoung slung his arm around san’s shoulder, bent behind the booth he was sitting at, “don’t just sit there and mope.”

san nodded, not having much to say if it didn’t have to do with you. he sipped his beer mindlessly, listening to everyone talking around him, their conversation had to be more entertaining then the jail he created for himself in his own mind.

“...i’ve been trying to get them together for years! i’m so happy it’s finally happening!” your roommate says loud, drunkenly, talking to yunho’s girlfriend.

“years?” yunho’s girlfriend asked, brushing her hair behind her ear, “why the hell did it take so long?”

“when they met they were all just good friends, then i was introduced and started dating jeongin pretty much immediately, i’m the one who noticed how she felt about him. she wouldn’t admit it for ages, until i finally got it out of her, and pretty much immediately after that chan started dating eden, you remember her, right?” san’s ears perked up at that, his stomach dropping immediately. he put the pieces together quicker than ki could run her mouth. the drinks from the pregame clearly made her filter pretty much nonexistent, this is a conversation he wasn’t supposed to be listening to, something he wasn’t supposed to hear. she didn’t notice the extra ear, but her boyfriend did.

“ki,” jeongin interrupted, eyes glancing back and forth between san and his girlfriend, talking over yunho’s girlfriend.

ki ignored him, too deep in her own conversation, “yes! like two weeks ago or something it finally clicked, they’ve been seeing each other since.”

“who?” san interrupted, panic in his voice.

he knew who, from the bottom of his heart. a little over two weeks ago was when san started the fight between the two of you, ever since then you’d been off. he hasn’t seen you. he knows damn well who.

ki’s eyes were wide, her jaw agape, and jeongin’s hand went to his forehead.

“san, i-”

“who are you talking about, ki?” san sat a little straighter, his chin jutting out, “who’s been seeing chan for the past two weeks?”

“i think you already know who, san, i didn’t realize you didn’t know?” ki’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her hand holding her drink a little bit tighter. yunho’s girlfriend looked between san and ki, also confused, too nervous to ask any questions. the tension was thick in the air, too heavy for a night of celebration. san could feel the control he had over himself lessening by the second.

san laughs, a dark chuckle, and something inside of him shifts. he’s done, he’s so fucking done. he feels stupid, it’s always been chan from the start, it’s always going to be chan. he tried telling himself months ago that you would see he was better for you than chan ever could be, but he was clearly so fucking wrong. chan would always be your endgame, it would never be him, no matter what he did for you. no matter how much he tried for you. no matter how much he begged for you.

everything he’s been feeling for the past two weeks, the confusing feelings, the constant begging just to see you, the amount of apologies he’d given to someone who didn’t fucking deserve them. how many times had you texted him when you were next to chan? how many times had you ignored him because you were next to chan?

san doesn’t get angry, san isn’t a fighter. san’s always been a peacekeeper, a problem solver, water to put out the fire.

he is so fucking over it.

he thought about his grades, how long it’d taken him to bring them back up. his rehearsals, his performances, the center positions that had been taken away from him. how many bottles of beer he’d thrown away at work from constant fuck ups. how many times he’s gotten grilled from more people than he can count on his hands.

he ignored ki, instead he looked into the crowd, suddenly remembering exactly where he was. he reached forward and grabbed one of the bottles yunho bought and took a long swig from it. he looked out in the crowd again and spotted a pretty little blonde thing almost immediately, and took a moment to reflect.

he remembered his life before you, before chan, before that fucking rooftop. how women fawned over him, flocked to him, how obsessed they were. how he didn’t have to try for anything or anyone. he passed the bottle to wooyoung behind him who was so taken aback he hadn’t said a word.

“san, we can leave, we can go, it’s okay,” wooyoung said, bent over once more, taking the bottle from san’s hand, “we don’t have to stay here, let’s go.”

“if you’re not going to drink that then give it back,” his reply is so curt it sliced through the air like the knife ki just put through his chest, “we are not leaving.”

wooyoung took a swig of the bottle, a proud smirk growing on his face, “finally, man. let’s be done with it already.”

2:27 am ri: u up? ri: i miss you

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez smut #atiny #ateez fic #choi san #san ateez #ateez san #san x reader #choi san x reader #choi san ateez #choi san smut #san x you #san x y/n #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #choi san x female reader

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itendtothinkalot · 11 days ago

Text

daddy's girl! (enemies to lovers)

summary: beomgyu's teasing is getting out of hand, and you're constantly left wondering what you did to deserve it. does he hate you? and if he does, why don't you hate him? your major crush on him certainly doesn't help. when he's teasing you, all you can do is stare at him, wondering if he’d ever like you back.

genre: FLUFFFFFF

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 9668

warnings: none!!!

You’ve always considered Beomgyu the single biggest annoyance in your office. He’s the type who breezes into work with a cocky grin, always a little too casual, always quick with a teasing comment that seems specifically designed to get under your skin.

You’ve somehow managed to ignore him for your first few months in the company, but recently over the year, he’s been… everywhere. Offering to help with projects he has no reason to be near, popping into your workspace with coffee, even catching your eye during meetings.

And the worst part? Lately, instead of just being annoyed, you’ve started noticing things: the way his laughter lights up the room, or how he remembers your favorite coffee order, including yours. It’s maddening, and the more you try to brush it off, the harder it is to ignore that twist in your stomach whenever he’s around.

And...you hated every bit of it, you think. Every time he’d tease you—calling you “princess” when you were stressed, smirking when he made you flustered—it was like he was actively trying to get a rise out of you. And it worked. Every. Single. Time.

“Boo.”

The word was barely a whisper, but it made you jump so hard that your coffee slipped right out of your hand, splattering across your dress in a warm, sticky mess. You whipped around, finding Beomgyu standing there, barely holding back a laugh as he took in the damage he’d caused.

“Beomgyu,” you gritted out, grabbing a paper towel in a futile attempt to dab at the stain. “Do you enjoy terrorizing your coworkers, or am I just special?”

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched you with an amused tilt of his head. “I don’t know, maybe I just have a soft spot for you.” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware of his gaze lingering on you as you tried to clean up. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, hoping he couldn’t see the faint pink on your cheeks.

He shrugged, a slow, lazy smile creeping onto his face. “You know you’d miss me if I didn’t keep things interesting.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you shot him your best death glare, then turned sharply on your heel, whipping your ponytail right in his face. A small, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you heard him stifle a surprised cough behind you.

“Mm, raspberry,” he said suddenly, taking an exaggerated whiff. “Nice shampoo choice.”

You spun back around, crossing your arms and giving him a look that could curdle milk. “Dude!” you snapped, appalled—and maybe a little flustered. “People are staring.” You shot a glance at a few of your coworkers, who were desperately stifling their laughter.

Everyone in the office was all too familiar with the occasional “spat” between you and Beomgyu. For some reason, the two of you bickering like an old married couple had become prime entertainment around here.

He laughed, completely unbothered. “They’re just enjoying the show.” His grin didn’t waver as he looked at your coffee-stained dress with obvious amusement.

“I’m not in the mood for this,” you muttered, pushing him aside as you made a swift exit out of the pantry. “Not after you’ve essentially soaked me from head to toe with coffee.”

“Okay, okay.” He jogged up beside you, catching your arm just as you were about to storm off. Your eyes dropped to his hand on your arm, a spark of warmth rushing up to your cheeks. You’d blame it on surprise, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart picked up speed at the contact.

Beomgyu seemed to notice, too, because he let go almost immediately, a flicker of something in his expression—guilt? Amusement? You couldn’t quite tell. He recovered quickly, though, shooting you an apologetic smile that, annoyingly, looked almost… genuine.

“C’mon,” he said, voice softer than before. “I have an extra shirt at my desk. It’s clean, I promise.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look unimpressed, even though you were already considering it. “And why exactly would I want to wear your shirt?”

He raised an eyebrow, smirk slipping back into place. “Because…you either wear my shirt or walk around smelling like a coffee spill all day.” His eyes glinted with a challenge.

Your glare returned, but this time, you hesitated, the discomfort of your soaked clothes settling in. With a huff, you crossed your arms. “Fine,” you relented, narrowing your eyes.

A few minutes later, you were standing in the bathroom, staring at the shirt Beomgyu had handed you. You sighed, the absurdity of the situation slowly sinking in. There was no way you were going to wear this. You could practically feel your dignity slipping away with every second you stood there.

“Doing good in there?” Beomgyu’s voice floated in from the other side of the door, his tone teasing.

“Choi Beomgyu,” you called out, your voice dripping with disbelief. “I am not wearing this.”

From the other side, you could hear his laughter, muffled but still unmistakably filled with overconfidence. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

With a sigh, you stepped out of the bathroom, already bracing yourself for the inevitable ridicule. The moment you emerged, you looked up to see Beomgyu standing there, absolutely dying of laughter. His eyes formed perfect crescents, his whole face lit up in a way that made your heart beat faster than it did before.

It was a bright, obnoxious shade of pink, with Beomgyu’s face cartoonishly plastered on the front, a goofy grin matching the bold words scrawled across it: “Daddy’s Girl.”

Beomgyu was clutching his stomach, laughing so hard he could barely stand. "Oh my god," he gasped between breaths. "You look—" He paused, wiping tears from his eyes. "You look adorable."

You stood there, face flushed with embarrassment, glaring at him. “Why do you even have this damn shirt?”

His laughter slowly died down, but that infuriating grin of his remained. “It was a gift from Soobin,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I just never expected to see it on you. However, I do have to say…” He trailed off, his grin widening as he stepped a little closer.

“What?” You didn’t want to ask, but it was already too late.

“Well, you pull it off better than I expected. Almost like you actually are Daddy’s Girl.” His voice dropped a little as he teased the last part, his tone playful and teasing. He inched closer to you, his presence suddenly a little too close for comfort.

“Y-you’re... an asshole,” you stammered, pushing him in his chest with more force than necessary.

You walked away, but you could still hear his laughter echoing behind you, completely unbothered that he had essentially broken down all your walls.

Your cheeks were burning, but as much as you wanted to keep the little pride you had left, you couldn’t help but suppress a grin that tugged at the corners of your lips. Beomgyu might be the last person you'd ever want to give the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, but there you were, cheeks red, heart racing, and trying to hide the smile that was slowly creeping across your face.

You could hear him still chuckling in the distance, and, despite your best efforts, a part of you almost hated how contagious his laughter was.

–

The whole office seemed to be buzzing with energy as everyone gathered for the afternoon meeting. You tried to act normal, to slip into the routine of things, but the moment you walked into the conference room, you felt it—the eyes. The teasing smiles. The laughter that seemed to linger just behind every glance directed your way.

You walked to your usual spot, only to have Soobin glance over at you with a mischievous grin. "So," he started, his tone light but laced with something that made you instantly uneasy, "How does it feel to be Daddy’s Girl?" His words were casual, but there was no mistaking the gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Your face immediately flushed, and you could already feel the heat creeping up your neck. "What? No! That's not—" You stammered, but your words faltered, and before you could regain your composure, Yeonjun jumped in.

“Oh my God,” he teased, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Didn’t expect the whole ‘Daddy’s Girl’ look to work for you, but Beomgyu definitely has good taste. You make that shirt look way better than he does.”

“Seriously? He spilled coffee–” You attempted to explain, but quickly gave up, realizing no one was really listening, too busy giggling. “Beomgyu, aren’t you going to explain why I have to wear this?”

“Because you’re daddy’s girl?” He laughed, clearly enjoying the moment way too much

The entire table broke into laughter, with some of the interns joining in, adding their own playful remarks about how you and Beomgyu seemed to be “matching in more ways than one” and how “that shirt definitely tells a story.”

Trying to maintain some dignity, you crossed your arms and glared at Beomgyu, who had his usual half-smirk on his lips, though his eyes held a playful spark. “You really had to do this, didn’t you?” you muttered, barely able to mask the irritation creeping into your voice.

Beomgyu’s grin widened. "I didn’t know you’d look so cute in it," he teased, completely unbothered. "Guess I should have made you wear it sooner."

“Seriously, Beomgyu?” You shot back, rolling your eyes.

—

The next day at work, you walked into the office with a scowl, still trying to shake off the embarrassing memory from yesterday. You had barely managed to avoid Beomgyu for most of the morning, but as you rounded the corner to your desk, you found him standing there—leaning casually against your cubicle wall, as if he’d been waiting for you.

He looked up with that all-too-familiar grin, the same one that had made your cheeks flush the day before. "Well, well, if it isn’t Daddy’s Girl," he teased, his voice dripping with that playful tone you couldn't escape.

You groaned inwardly, trying to hide the heat rushing to your face. "You’re really not going to let that go, are you?"

Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly, still smiling like he was having the time of his life. "I mean, it’s a pretty good look on you," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You might want to consider keeping it as your new work uniform. Though, of course, you still look good in this little office siren look you’re going for.” He looked you up and down, making you feel suddenly self-conscious.

You couldn’t help but push his face away, trying to avoid his gaze, and quickly looked away, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. "You're impossible," you muttered under your breath, focusing on anything but him.

Beomgyu paused, his eyes back on you, "You look good," he said, this time a little more serious, like he meant what he was saying.

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. For a moment, the usual playful mischief was gone, and it was just him, staring at you with an intensity you hadn’t expected. You looked at him, unsure of how to respond, the tension in the air suddenly making you feel even more awkward.

"And you’re still annoying," you snapped, trying to regain control of the conversation, though your voice betrayed a hint of something softer beneath the words. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze for too long.

“Okay, okay. Look, I’m sorry if I took things a little too far yesterday,” he apologized.

You examined his face for any sign of mischief, but soon realized he was being sincere. You nodded, walking away.

—--

A few hours of working in silence passed, everyone was in their own little cubicle typing away with whatever they had to.

Just as you were getting into the groove of things, you heard footsteps approaching. Soobin’s voice broke through the quiet office. "Hey," he greeted, leaning on your desk with a smile. "Where’s your Daddy?" He raised an eyebrow playfully, clearly teasing about Beomgyu.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden question. "My what?" you repeated, confused for a moment before you realized what he meant. "Oh, please, don’t encourage him," you groaned, rubbing your temples.

Soobin chuckled. "I mean, you are Daddy’s girl, aren’t you?" He laughed again, clearly enjoying your discomfort, making you glare at his way. "Anyway, wanna grab lunch? We haven’t done that in a while.”

“As long as you stop calling me that.” You rolled your eyes.

Soobin raised his hands defensively, smirking. “Alright, alright. Fine.”

“I just have like a couple more e-mails to sort out.”

“Got it. I’ll wait for you outside.”

You went back to typing, trying to wrap up your task quickly so Soobin wouldn’t have to wait too long. You were back to focusing, but just as you were picking up the pace, you felt hands cover your eyes from behind.

“Beomgyu,” you muttered without looking up from your screen.

Beomgyu’s voice came in soft and teasing. “How’d you know it was me?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his hands away. “You’re the only one who bothers me when I’m trying to do work.”

He chuckled, sliding into the chair next to your desk. “Guess you just know me so well, huh?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” you said, shaking your head as you finished up a few last details.

There was a minute of silence before you finally did look up at him. Beomgyu hated to admit how cute you looked when you looked up at him—your eyes meeting him with that slight furrow in your brow, your hair falling perfectly around your face. It took everything in him not to smile, but he quickly masked it with his usual smirk.

“So what do you want?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you finished up a few last details.

“Lunch with daddy?” he replied with a casual grin, though his eyes held a glint of something that made your stomach flutter.

“Oh, I’ve already made plans with Soobin, dad” you said, not thinking much of it as you slipped your phone into your bag.

“Soobin?” Beomgyu’s voice hardened ever so slightly, but you didn’t catch the shift at first. He leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing just a touch.

You shrugged, focusing on gathering your things. “Yeah, just grabbing lunch. We haven’t hung out in a while.”

Beomgyu’s smirk faltered for a second, his usual confidence slipping just enough for you to notice. But before you could react, he leaned back, his demeanor slipping into something more casual, though there was still that slight edge to his words. “Right. Of course. Soobin.”

You looked at him, slightly confused by his changed demeanor. “Okay?” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows.

Beomgyu didn’t immediately respond. He just leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he watched you. There was a tension in the air now, something unspoken, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. His eyes, which were usually so playful, were now unreadable, like he was deep in thought.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his tone back to its usual teasing edge, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Enjoy your lunch, I guess.”

—-

During lunch, your mind replayed the previous scene with Beomgyu one too many times. Why was he so pissy after you mentioned going to lunch with Soobin? Weren’t they good friends? Why was he being so dramatic? Crazy ass, you thought to yourself.

“Are you even listening?” Soobin’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You snapped out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” you mumbled, offering him an apologetic smile.

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been acting weird since we left for lunch. Did you even hear my harrowing story about how Beomgyu’s been acting up at home?”

Right, they’re roommates, you remembered, a pang of curiosity hitting you. “Wait, what did he do now?”

Soobin chuckled, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t believe it—he’s been sulking around the apartment lately, for reasons he won’t even explain. Just moody and snippy about everything.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I’m starting to think he’s hiding something.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if Beomgyu’s strange mood earlier was connected. Trying to play it cool, you asked, “Does he, like…do that often?”

“Nope, which is why it’s weird. And this all seemed to start around…” Soobin paused, giving you a suspicious look, “…around the time you two started bickering at work.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Don’t blame this on me.”

Soobin laughed, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “Hey, I’m not saying anything,” he teased, though his smirk suggested otherwise. “Actually… there is one thing that might explain it.”

“What is it?” you asked, curiosity and a tinge of dread mixing in your voice.

“Well,” Soobin began, leaning in a little, “he was on the phone with one of our friends the other night, talking about some girl he’s into.”

Your heart did a little flip. A girl he’s into? Was it you?

“Yeah, someone from his yoga class,” Soobin added, watching you carefully.

Oh. Yoga class. You didn’t go to yoga. You felt a mix of relief and… something else you didn’t want to admit to yourself.

“Oh,” you said, trying to sound indifferent, though your disappointment was evident. “That’s… nice.”

Soobin tilted his head, amused. “You sound thrilled.”

“I am thrilled,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Glad he’s happy. Maybe then he’ll stop fucking with me.”

Soobin leaned back, watching your expression with that same knowing look. "Yeah, apparently she's, like, really flexible," he said, barely holding back a grin.

You forced a casual nod, hoping your face didn’t betray you. "Good for him, then."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your reaction. “What, you’re not jealous, are you?”

“What?” You scoffed, trying to brush off the question, but your voice came out a bit too defensive. “Why would I be jealous?”

Soobin chuckled, leaning forward. "I mean, you guys do spend half your time arguing, and the other half looking at each other like... well, like something is going on.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “We’re just… coworkers. Besides, he’s obviously into some yoga girl I’ve never even met. Who’s apparently really flexible.”

"Uh-huh," Soobin said, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t buying it. "Well, for what it’s worth," he added, "I don’t think he actually likes yoga that much."

“Oh, sure. I don’t actually care,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief.

“Really,” you said, the words coming out a little too firmly—as if you were trying to convince yourself as much as him.

Soobin’s gaze dropped to your plate, and he chuckled softly. “Then why’ve you mashed your rice into porridge?”

You looked down, realizing your grip on the spoon was practically turning your knuckles white.

Your face heated with embarrassment, and you shot Soobin a glare. “You seem to be really enjoying this, Soobin. What happened to ‘I missed you, let’s catch up’? You’re practically using our only hour to tease me.”

Soobin laughed, leaning back in his chair with an innocent shrug. “Hey, I am catching up. I just happen to find your love life… fascinating.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to brush it off. “It’s not my love life.”

“Right. Just your very intense work rivalry,” he said, grinning. “But fine, I’ll ease up. For now.”

—

You sighed, glancing at the clock. Just one more hour, and you’d be free. It was Friday, and the idea of slipping into bed and sleeping through the night was the only thing keeping you going. Unlike your coworkers, who were always up for late-night drinks, you had a steadfast love for sleep.

Well, at least until…

“You coming tonight?”

Startled, you looked up to see Beomgyu leaning against your cubicle. His hair was slightly tousled from a long day, and somehow, he looked even better when he was a little worn out. You felt a pang of frustration at yourself for even noticing.

“Where?”

“The team’s going out for drinks,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes fixed on you.

You hesitated, glancing away. “I don’t know. I was planning on just heading home,” you replied, trying to ignore the way he made it hard to focus on anything but him.

He tilted his head, a playful smile forming. “Come on, you’re always skipping out on these things. One night won’t hurt.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be unimpressed. “Right, because I’m sure you’re really hoping I’ll be there.”

“I was,” he paused, then corrected himself, “I am.” He looked at you seriously, as if making sure you knew he wasn’t joking or lying.

“I—I…” You stammered, unsure of what to say.

“Please?” He added, his tone softening, almost like a plea.

“Fine.”

—

The bar was buzzing with the chatter and laughter of your coworkers. The group had claimed about four or five tables, but you’d positioned yourself at the bar, seated on a stool. You weren’t sure why you even agreed to come—maybe it was Beomgyu’s pleading, or maybe the way his eyes softened when he asked you. Damn it, he could be so cute without even trying.

You stirred your drink, watching it swirl as your mind wandered. Every so often, you glanced over to where Beomgyu was standing, sandwiched between two tables. He was in his element, effortlessly drawing people in with that easy, curse that confident charm of his. His laughter filled the air as he joked with your colleagues, their faces lighting up at whatever he’d just said.

He had a way of making even the most mundane conversation feel like the most interesting thing in the room. His smile, his gestures, the way his eyes sparkled when he said something funny—it was like he could command the room without even trying. It was no wonder people were drawn to him, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in too, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

You watched as he shifted from one group to the next, always moving with such ease, always the center of attention. His effortless charm left a weird knot in your stomach, but also a strange flutter, something you didn’t quite know how to process.

Damn it, you thought again, taking another sip of your drink. You were making yourself dizzy just watching him.

“You’re going to catch flies with the way you’re staring at Beomgyu,” Soobin teased, leaning back in his chair with a mischievous grin. He placed a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up.

You sighed, trying to brush off the comment, swatting his hand away. “Soobin,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “If you’re just here to mock me about my stupid crush on Beomgyu—”

“Oh, so we’re admitting it’s a crush now?” Soobin interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“What? No! I—I… it slipped out,” you stuttered, feeling heat rise in your cheeks as you tried to recover.

Soobin leaned in, his grin widening as he pressed, “So you are admitting it—”

“I’m not admitting anything!” you snapped, crossing your arms defensively and giving him an exaggerated glare.

Soobin chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that," he said, giving you a wink before turning his attention back to the table, though his smile lingered as if he knew something you didn't.

You huffed, trying to push the thoughts of Beomgyu out of your mind. The alcohol wasn't helping; if anything, it was just making things feel more awkward. You shifted in your seat, glancing back toward Beomgyu. He was laughing with your coworkers, his hands animated as he told some story, effortlessly commanding their attention. It was almost maddening how easy he made it look, his charm radiating off him like it was second nature.

"Are you sure you don’t have a thing for him?" Soobin’s voice brought you back to reality, and you looked at him, annoyed.

“I already told you, I don’t—" You stopped, realizing how defensive you sounded, how your heart was racing at the mere mention of Beomgyu’s name. You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated at yourself.

"So, what's going on then?" Soobin asked, his tone suddenly softer, less teasing. "You can’t keep pretending you don’t care."

You looked away, avoiding his gaze as you focused on the edge of your glass. “I don’t know what you're talking about.”

For a moment, Soobin didn’t say anything, just watched you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. Finally, he spoke again, quieter this time. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now, but don’t pretend like it doesn’t matter."

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“Okay, what if I do…” you whispered, barely audible, eyes darting around nervously.

Soobin leaned in closer, eyebrows raised. “Come again?”

You sighed, feeling your face burn as you tried to keep your voice low, as if somehow that would protect you. “What if I do… have a tiny little bit… the tiniest bit… of a crush on him…” you whispered even softer, almost too quietly to hear.

Soobin leaned in further, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips as he mimicked your whisper. “I can’t hear you.”

You rolled your eyes, swallowing your embarrassment. “I said,” you shouted, louder than you intended, and immediately felt the weight of your coworkers' stares on you. You quickly smiled awkwardly at them before turning back to Soobin. “I said... what if I did have a tiny crush on him?”

Soobin burst into laughter, loud enough that it felt like the whole bar could hear it. His laughter, bright and unapologetic, drew even more stares from the surrounding tables. You felt your face flush even more.

“You know,” he said, catching his breath, “it’s about time you admitted it. You’ve been looking at him like that all night.”

“I have not!” you protested, though you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Right, because I didn’t just see you staring at him while he was telling that story about his yoga class.” Soobin grinned knowingly.

You groaned, sinking lower into your seat. “Can we drop it now?”

Soobin held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But just so you know, it’s obvious to everyone here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, finally calming down. “Trust me, you’ve got the ‘I’m-trying-to-hide-a-crush’ look written all over you.”

You leaned back in your chair, exhaling in defeat. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Soobin said with a grin. “If you’re embarrassed, then that means you care. And that’s actually kind of cute.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Soobin patted you on the back. “No problem, now go get your man.”

You snorted. “I’m not ‘getting my man’ anywhere besides isn’t he into this yoga girl you keep mentioning about?”

“First of all,” Soobin sighed. “I mentioned her once. Second, you're really gonna use her as an excuse now? I was just kidding. There wasn’t any “yoga girl”, I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“You lied?”

“For a good cause!” Soobin said, defensively.

“Look, I don’t even care. I mean... it’s not like he’s even looking my way,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to Soobin. “In fact, he hasn’t even talked to me all night.”

Soobin gave you a knowing look, the kind he always gave when he knew you were being a little dramatic. “You’re really gonna do this right now?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “You’re letting one night ruin your mood?”

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand. “I mean, it's fine, really. I didn’t come here to be his entertainment plus free drinks!”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “It’s not about that, though, is it? You didn’t come here for him to entertain you, you came because you wanted to see him.”

“I did not come here…to see him.” You attempted to defend yourself. “I could be here to see you. You’re a pal.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Soobin rolled his eyes.

You shot him a glare but it only made him laugh. He could always tell when you were hiding something, and right now, he was enjoying it a little too much.

“Fine, maybe I did want to see him,” you finally admitted, your voice softer than you wanted it to be. “But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s just—he told me to come, which I did but now he’s been avoiding me all night and talking to everyone but me.”

“Have you tried initiating the conversation first?” Soobin said.

You stared at Soobin, momentarily taken aback by his insight. “I just… I’m not sure what to say anymore."

"Say hi or something, in fact," Soobin said, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. "You talk to him tonight, and... yeah, that’s it. Just talk to him. No ands ifs or buts."

"W-what? No! I can’t... I’m not ready! I’ve only had one shot of vodka. I’m not ready for this level of commitment—"

Soobin sighed in frustration. "Damn, you’re stronger than you look." He grunted, struggling to pull you up as you continued to thrash in your seat.

You dug your heels into the ground, still trying to resist as Soobin tugged at your arm. "No, seriously, Soobin! I'm not ready for this. What if I screw it up?" You felt the panic rising in your chest, your pulse quickening. The idea of talking to Beomgyu, of finally doing something about it, felt too overwhelming.

“And what’s going on over here?”

The two of you stopped your struggle, realizing it looked as though you were hugging, and quickly turned around, both of you frozen like deer caught in headlights.

“Beomgyu,” the two of you muttered in unison.

“You’re making quite the scene,” Beomgyu said. His tone was hard to place, but you would guess he was either slightly annoyed or, more likely, not at all amused.

“Sorry.” You glanced around, realizing no one was really paying attention to the two of you, which left you a bit confused, but you decided to ignore it.

“Soobin, Taehyun’s looking for you.” He pointed over to the table of interns.

“Taehyun’s here? Doesn’t he have…” Soobin gulped. “Okay. I’ll go find him.”

Soobin gave you one last glance, his smirk still lingering as he followed Beomgyu's direction. “Don’t think I forgot about this,” he teased, then strolled off toward the interns.

You let out a small breath of relief, now alone with Beomgyu. He was still standing there, his expression unreadable, though you could have sworn you saw something in his eyes when Soobin had left.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Thanks for... saving me from Soobin.”

Beomgyu chuckled, his gaze softening slightly. “Not sure you’re saved when a bigger devil is here.” He smirked.

“Right,” You chuckled before turning your attention back to your drink.

"Care for a conversation?"

"Now?" You hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic.

Beomgyu looked at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes before replacing it with his usual smirk. "What’s wrong with a little conversation?"

"I just... don’t you have a whole parade to lead? Aren’t people waiting for the life of the party?"

“Well, the life of the party needs a break, and I was kind of looking for my own relief.” He glanced over at you.

“And?” you prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Found her.” He locked eyes with you, a hint of mischief in his gaze.

You shifted awkwardly, trying to gauge his intent, but he kept his eyes on you, unfazed.

“So, this is where you take your breaks?” you asked.

Beomgyu’s smirk deepened. “Only when the company is worth it.”

Your breath caught slightly, caught off guard by his boldness. You didn’t know how to respond right away, so you turned your attention back to your drink. The silence stretched on, and for a brief moment, it felt like there was something unspoken between you two.

“Oh, right!” You pulled out a small paper bag from your work bag. “Here.” You handed him the washed t-shirt he had lent you.

“You can keep it,” he said casually.

“And why would I want to keep a shirt with your face on it?” You rolled your eyes, holding the t-shirt up with mock disdain.

Beomgyu chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Y’know…I always thought you were pretty, but I think wearing my face has made you ten times prettier than you already were.”

He leaned back, watching you closely, his smile softening into something more sincere. “I’m serious though. You look good in it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly brushed it off, trying to maintain your playful composure. “Sure. But I think I’ll pass on wearing it as a permanent look.”

You glanced at your watch, it was still early. If you were home you’d probably be binging a drama. You shook your head. It was time to say goodnight. You didn’t feel like overstaying your welcome.

“I’m gonna take off,” you muttered.

“What? So soon? It’s only 10,” Beomgyu said, sounding surprised.

You shrugged. “Yeah, and I’m wasting my Friday night being surrounded by drunk colleagues.

“Okay, then at least let me send you home,” he said, his tone softening.

“It’s totally fine! I can take the bus!”

“The bus? We can share a cab!” Beomgyu insisted.

“I’ll be fine, I swear.”

“And I won’t be until you let me take you home safely!” Beomgyu said, pouting ever so slightly, his lips curling downward. You stopped yourself from smiling at the sight of his pout.

“It’s really fine! If it makes you feel better, I’ll get Soobin to drive me back. I mean, he drove me here,” you replied, trying to brush off his concern with a casual shrug.

Beomgyu’s demeanor shifted immediately. His face tightened, and you noticed a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "Again with Soobin," he muttered, his voice a little sharper than before.

You glanced over at Beomgyu, seeing the almost imperceptible shift in his expression. He looked... frustrated, almost as if your mention of Soobin was a trigger. You weren’t sure why, but the change in him caught your attention.

“Yeah, I mean, he drove–”

“Do you enjoy torturing me?” Beomgyu sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“What?”

“Do you enjoy… torturing me?” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated by your sheer density.

“Are you drunk?”

He shook his head.

He pulled you aside, guiding you into a quiet corner of the bar. Now, there was no sign of your colleagues—just the two of you, standing by a plant. The sudden isolation made the air feel heavy.

“You’re torturing me,” he muttered, his voice low. “You actually hate me.”

You blinked in surprise, unsure if you had heard him right.

“Hate you?” You frowned, trying to make sense of what he was implying. “Beomgyu, I don’t hate you.”

“You avoid me,” he sighed, frustration laced in his voice. “You’re always making jokes with everyone around you. Yeonjun, Soobin—dear God, you even make jokes with the new interns, Taehyun and Kai.”

You stood there frozen, caught off guard by the intensity of his rant.

“You laugh with everyone, you smile, you bat your eyelashes at Soobin, you touch Soobin’s arms, you go on one-on-one lunch dates with Soobin… You like Soobin.” His words came out in a rush, and each sentence hit harder than the last. “And you don’t feel a single thing for me.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his accusation, your stomach dropping.

“I–”

“Why won’t you like me back?” Beomgyu repeated, his voice softer now, but still laced with an underlying pain. His eyes searched yours, as if looking for an answer that you weren’t sure how to give.

And it was… three seconds of silence before Beomgyu hurled onto your shoes.

You stared in disbelief, mouth agape, as the reality of what had just happened set in. The mixture of complete shock and disgust made you freeze for a moment, unable to process what had just unfolded.

“No liquor, my ass!” You screamed, stepping back in horror as you looked down at your shoes, now a disgusting shade of… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

Beomgyu collapsed onto the floor, his body crumpling like a ragdoll.

“Oh my God!” You shouted, hands thrown up in the air, unsure of what to do. You were stuck between wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all and wanting to strangle him for ruining your night—and your shoes.

Beomgyu’s head lolled to the side, eyes barely open as he slurred, “I... I didn’t mean for it to... to go like this. I just… I thought you’d—” He cut himself off with another groan, clearly too far gone to finish his sentence.

Your mind raced, torn between sympathy for his state and pure annoyance. You didn’t sign up for this.

—

Soobin had driven the two of you back to your place. Beomgyu, half-conscious and heavily leaning against your shoulder, made no effort to support himself as you navigated him out of the car.

You reached your front door and stopped, fumbling with the keys for a moment before Soobin broke the silence with a sigh. “You sure you don’t want him to just go home with me?” His voice was soft, but you could hear the concern in it, even if he tried to mask it with a teasing tone.

You shot him a tired glance as you finally unlocked the door. “Isn’t your mom visiting right now? You sure you want her to know this is the kind of roommate you have?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you nudged the door open with your foot, glancing at Beomgyu, who was mumbling nonsense under his breath.

“Yeah?” Soobin shrugged, clearly not thinking it through. “But, you know, I could always—”

“You sure you want your mom to see all this?” you interrupted, gesturing at the disaster that was Beomgyu, who looked like he might pass out any second.

Soobin blinked, his face faltering slightly as the reality of the situation hit him. “...You’re probably right,” he said with a chuckle that barely covered his embarrassment.

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping despite everything. “Thanks for the ride,” you said, offering a strained smile before you turned your attention back to Beomgyu. “Alright, let’s get you inside.”

Beomgyu stumbled and flopped onto the couch as soon as you let him go, groaning dramatically, his head lolling to the side. His disheveled hair and the faint smell of alcohol coming off him was enough to make you feel a little queasy, but you refused to let him see how uncomfortable you were. Instead, you turned to Soobin, who lingered by the door, looking unsure about whether to stay or leave.

“Is there anything I can do?” Soobin asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

You looked at Beomgyu again and sighed. “Just help me change him.” You half-smiled, trying to reassure Soobin despite feeling like a mess yourself.

Soobin chuckled awkwardly. “You should probably get him some water or something.”

“Yeah, I will,” you said, already moving toward the kitchen, your mind racing as you debated what to do next. You glanced back at Beomgyu, still sprawled out on the couch, looking like he had no care in the world. He was out of it, sure, but the way he had acted earlier still lingered in your thoughts, leaving a pit in your stomach.

Soobin finally left, his footsteps fading as the door clicked shut behind him. You were alone now with a drunk, insufferable Beomgyu, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever this night was about to throw at you next.

—

You were thankful Soobin stayed long enough to help change Beomgyu out of his puke-soaked clothes. It was an awkward scene, but you couldn’t exactly leave Beomgyu in his state. Soobin had managed to get him into a pair of comfortable sweats and a t-shirt before he left, leaving you to deal with the aftermath.

As you walked back into the living room, you found Beomgyu still sprawled on the couch, his head resting awkwardly on the armrest. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep but uneven. Despite the mess he’d made, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.

You grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and gently placed it on the coffee table in front of him, hoping he’d wake up enough to drink it.

It’d been a few hours since the incident happened. You had just been sitting on your armchair, waiting for Beomgyu to wake up.

His eyes fluttered open a moment later, his vision blurry as he blinked a few times, trying to focus on his surroundings. When he saw you standing there, a faint, sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re still here…” he mumbled..

“Of course,” you said, sitting down on the edge of the couch, keeping a safe distance. “You’re kinda at my house.”

Beomgyu let out a groan, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this…”

You sighed, watching him closely as he sat up, trying to get his bearings. “You didn’t drag me into anything, I just so happened to be standing right in front of you, waiting for my prince charming to puke on me.” You replied, trying to hide the slight irritation in your voice, but the frustration from the whole night was starting to seep through.

Beomgyu winced at your words, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. “Yeah... that wasn’t my best moment.”

“No kidding.” You leaned back, folding your arms across your chest. “I’ve never seen you this... well, out of it. What even happened tonight?”

“I don’t know. I think I just... lost it. All the stuff with you and Soobin, it’s been bugging me more than I want to admit. And, well, I guess it all came crashing down at the wrong time.”

“So… you remember what you said in the bar just now?” You asked, the tension in your voice barely masked by the casual question.

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes slightly narrowed as if he was trying to piece everything together. “I’m puke and black-out drunk. Not the kind to forget about the stupid shit I do when I’m drunk... kind of drunk.”

You laughed awkwardly, trying to process what he was saying. "So you… were—are—jealous of Soobin?"

Beomgyu nodded slowly, his gaze avoiding yours as he seemed to wrestle with his own feelings. “Kind of. I guess. I don’t really know. But listen, he’s a great guy and clearly in better shape than me, so I… genuinely think the two of you would be great together.”

You blinked at him, trying to process the unexpected confession. "I don’t know… I kind of had my eyes on someone else, actually."

“It’s Yeonjun, isn’t it? It’s because he’s up there with that whole manager position and his weird party tricks… damn it, I should’ve picked up rollerblading when I had the chance.”

“No—not Yeonjun. He’s a little too intense for me,” you said, the memory of Yeonjun yelling at you for accidentally dropping a pack of Skittles down the garbage disposal flashing through your mind.

“Then who is it? Not Soobin, not Yeonjun—I’m gonna be so for real with you right now, we’re kind of your only options if you were into like hot people–”

“You’re spiraling.”

“I just… I’m curious to know who this guy is! Who’s this less attractive person I’m losing out to, y’know?”

“Well, he’s kinda cute to me.”

Beomgyu sighed and ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but also trying to mask it with a weak smile. “Okay, fine. I get it. You like someone else, and that’s cool. But you’re really killing me here with the suspense. Actually, you know what…maybe I don’t wanna know.” He sat up from the couch, shaking his head.

You were leaning against the wall opposite him, your arms crossed loosely over your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Your eyes flicked to Beomgyu, watching him as he ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly wrestling with his own thoughts.

The way he shifted uncomfortably on the couch made you feel almost guilty for not speaking sooner, but you weren’t going to lie, you kind of enjoyed this little mental torture he was going through.

Served him right for teasing you so much.

The truth was, you had been trying to avoid it, trying not to make things complicated especially with someone you weren’t even sure that liked you back.

Come on. Dropping your coffee and making you wear the ugliest t-shirt? That didn’t really seem like someone who liked you.

“Look, y’know what, I’m fine. I’ll just go home,” Beomgyu sighed, standing up from the couch. “Thanks for taking care of me. I’m really sorry about the shoes. I’ll get you a new pair. I promise.” He ruffled his hair, clearly trying to hide the awkwardness with a forced smile, but you could tell he was feeling guilty.

“Beomgyu–”

“I’m good. Look, it stings. The girl I’ve been pining for, for about a year or so, doesn’t like me back. It’s cool. I’ll get over it. Not now, but soon enough. I just hope this guy—whoever the fuck he is—treats you well… but like, I hope he’s not that hot. I don’t think that’d be good for my self-esteem. But you also deserve the best so I hope he’s at least hot-ish…? I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m being really immature right now, aren’t I? This is not a good look on me,” Beomgyu rambled, his voice wavering slightly as he shifted uneasily on his feet.

“Dude, you gotta let me talk.” You sighed, walking over to Beomgyu and gently pushing him back onto the couch. He blinked up at you, still looking a little frazzled, but his shoulders visibly relaxed when you didn’t back away.

“This guy…that I’m into–”

“Oh great. We’re still talking about this asshole.”

“He’s really funny,” you spoke, your tone exasperated but softening.

“It’s that one tall dude from marketing, isn’t it?” Beomgyu asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not listening!” you yelled, cutting him off. Beomgyu gave you a sheepish, apologetic smile, slowly realizing that he was spiraling. You pulled his chin toward you, making sure he was looking at you. “He’s funny. He’s kind of an asshole, actually.”

“You’re into that?”

You shrugged, “And he’s really handsome.” You looked up at Beomgyu, giving him the sweetest smile, which made his heart leap.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You’re just gonna make me more hung up on you.” Beomgyu’s voice was softer now, the playful edge gone, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart race.

You chuckled, “He’s also really cute. Didn’t peg him for the jealous type.”

“What?” He tilted his head, confused.

“He’s also really narcissistic. Has apparently zero alcohol tolerance,” you mumbled. “He also puked on my shoes.”

Beomgyu blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Wait, he puked in your shoes? And you’re still into him?” He let out a disbelieving laugh, though it was edged with a hint of nervousness. "And you think I'm the one who’s messed up?"

“Beomgyu, it’s you. How are you not getting it?”

“Oh.”

Beomgyu’s gaze softened, the realization sinking in fully. His lips parted as if he were about to say something, but he hesitated, unsure of how to handle the sudden shift in the conversation.

“I’ve liked you for awhile now.” You continued, “I just thought you genuinely…disliked me. Or at least just enjoyed making my day miserable.”

“Miserable? Baby, I was entertaining you,” he said, his voice low, teasing but with an undeniable sincerity underneath.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling both amused and flustered. “Entertaining me? By making me spill coffee on myself and tricking me into wearing that ugly t-shirt?”

Beomgyu chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well–” he started, clearly trying to defend himself but failing to keep his grin in check.

“How about two weeks ago when you took out the screws of my chair at work and I fell and hurt my ass?” You crossed your arms, a playful yet accusatory tone in your voice.

“To be fair, that was Soobin’s idea,” Beomgyu said quickly, as if the excuse could somehow absolve him. He looked genuinely innocent for a split second before breaking into an even wider grin. “But I did help, so I guess I’m partially guilty.”

You scoffed, unable to suppress a smile despite yourself. “Partial guilt? You’re the mastermind behind most of it.”

"You don't get it!" Beomgyu sighed dramatically. "You're just so... adorable when you're mad! Your eyebrows furrow, your eyes widen, and when you pout... it's just... God, if you could see yourself the way I see you."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. "Adorable? Really? You think I'm adorable when I'm mad?"

Beomgyu nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up. "Yes! You don’t get it! You’re like a firecracker. When you get all huffy and your cheeks puff up, it just... it drives me crazy." He looked almost embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's like the cutest thing ever."

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine sound that surprised both of you. "Am I just your daily work stress ball or something?”

"Yes!" Beomgyu replied instantly, his voice a little too eager. He leaned in slightly, his tone softening as if revealing a secret. "I swear, if you could see yourself, you'd understand. It’s like you’re all fierce and pissed off, but still so... you. And God, it's so easy to fall for."

You smiled shyly, “You’re a little weirdo, aren’t you?”

Beomgyu grinned, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you’d come to know all too well. "Maybe," he said, his voice low and teasing. "But I'm your weirdo. If you’ll take me."

He leaned in just a little closer, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, and for a brief moment, the air between you seemed to thicken. You felt your heart skip a beat, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, but your voice came out softer than you intended. "I don't know if I’ll like that," you teased, though you couldn’t hide the hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Beomgyu chuckled, his expression softening into something more sincere. "You should. I swear, I’ve got the best intentions. Even if I do mess with you a little."

Your breath caught as his words hit you in a way you hadn't expected. He wasn’t just being playful anymore—there was something real behind his eyes.

"You’re... kind of sweet when you’re serious," you murmured, unable to stop yourself from feeling a little flustered under his gaze.

Beomgyu leaned back just slightly, his smile turning a little shy, like he hadn't meant to let that much of himself show. "Yeah, well... I mean it, you know?" he said quietly, looking down at his hands before meeting your gaze again. "You make it hard not to feel this way."

“You’re being ridiculous.” You puffed your cheeks.

“There! There it is!” Beomgyu shouted, jumping up and down on your couch in excitement like a little kid.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, your heart skipping a beat at how effortlessly cute he was. “You’re being insane!” you said, still smiling.

“I’m not!” Beomgyu responded dramatically, flailing his arms for emphasis. “How are you not seeing how cute you are?!” His voice was nearly exasperated, like he was trying to make you understand some grand truth about yourself.

“It’s probably how I see you!” you shot back, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips.

A moment of silence filled the room, the weight of what you had just said hanging in the air.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened slightly, his expression faltering as he processed your words. “That’s how you see me?” he asked, his voice softer, almost unsure.

You nodded, your gaze shifting as you tried to put your thoughts into words. “Yeah. You’re… well, close to perfect, as far as I can see.” You shrugged slightly. "The way you put your tongue at the side of your cheek and poke it when you're feeling smug after winning an argument with me... Maybe that's why I let you win sometimes. You look... sexy when you do that."

Beomgyu froze, his eyes locking with yours, a mix of surprise and something else flickering in his gaze. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grin, that mischievous glint returning. “You think I’m sexy when I do that?” he asked, scooting closer, his hands coming to rest beside your thighs on the couch.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, suddenly self-conscious as you realized what you'd just admitted. But before you could retreat, Beomgyu leaned in a little, his face lighting up with that playful yet sincere spark. “Well, now that you’ve said it... I’m definitely not letting you off the hook,” he teased, his tone warm and a little more serious than before, making your heart skip a beat.

“What else do you like about me?” he asked, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips.

You blushed, feeling your heart race. “When you… when you make everyone laugh. You’re just so effortlessly you,” you said softly, your voice warming as you smiled shyly at him.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered your name. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “You’d see the most beautiful person in the world.”

You stayed silent, your heart pounding as his words settled in. The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken feelings, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "And, would the most beautiful person in the world... let me kiss her?"

Your breath caught in your throat. You could feel the tension, the way everything seemed to slow down as you locked eyes with him. He was so close, and his expression was so genuine, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.

Slowly, you nodded, barely able to whisper, “Yeah... I think I would.”

His eyes lit up, and in that instant, the world around you seemed to disappear. Without wasting another second, Beomgyu gently cupped your face in his hands, leaning in until his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was sweet at first, testing the waters, before deepening as you both relaxed into the moment.

Everything felt perfect. Well…until…

You pulled away, suddenly aware of the rules that had always been lurking in the back of your mind. “Wait. Doesn’t our company have a rule about dating?”

Beomgyu froze for a second, his lips brushing yours one last time before he pulled back, a playful grin spreading across his face. “I could quit tomorrow if it meant I could kiss you every day,” he sighed dramatically, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart race.

Before you could say anything, Beomgyu pulled you gently but insistently closer, guiding you to sit on his lap. He leaned in again, his lips on yours.

“Beomgyu, I’m serious.” You mumbled between the kisses, your voice breathless but laced with uncertainty.

He only grinned wider, his hands lightly gripping your waist, “Rule, schmule,” he muttered dismissively, pushing you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. "We’ll figure it out. Besides, isn’t Taehyun like the boss’s son or something? We could bribe him."

“What?!” You gasped, pulling away from the kiss, your eyes wide with disbelief.

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say that,” he muttered sheepishly, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes was unmistakable as he shrugged and pulled you back into the kiss.

“You did not just drop a big bomb like that!” You tried to protest, but your words were muffled by his lips.

“Less talking, more kissing,” Beomgyu murmured between kisses, his hands gently guiding your face to meet his again.

“But we have all night,” you teased, breathless but still managing a smirk.

He paused for a moment, his face a little too close to yours, his grin playful. “I’m listening…” he said, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, pushing him playfully away just enough to get a word in. “You’re also gross.”

Beomgyu’s expression faltered for just a second before he burst into laughter, his arms wrapping around you tighter as he pulled you back against him. “Gross? I thought you liked me.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest made it hard to stay mad. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, even as you found yourself leaning in again.

“Impossible to resist,” he corrected with a wink, his lips capturing yours once more, and this time, there was no pulling away.

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glowinstone · 3 months ago

Text

devil come knockin’

Tom Riddle falls apart at the hands of his one biggest weaknesses… you

tom riddle x fem!reader

Oh how oblivious you were.

Despite being feared and supposedly the brightest witch of your age… you could not see for the love of merlin how Tom Riddle was so devastatingly in love with you. It was pathetic really, but any other cheesy romantic would swoon. Behind closed doors, you and tom would share secret smiles and soft touches. In the shadowed corner of the hogwarts library, you and tom would study the magic of dark arts, devouring collections he brought from his manor or in his case… secretly stole. Though he wouldn’t tell anyone that, a secret he would take to the grave.

But fuck… he was sure as hell not keeping his love for you a secret. At least he didn’t think so. Sure, he was cold, manipulative, and horrifyingly stoic- dubbed the devil of the school, but with you he was what he hated the most- soft, weak.The thought scared him, kept him up at night and when he finally succumbed to sleep- gave him gut wrenching night terrors. Of course he bloody tried to rid of his sickeningly sweet feelings for you.. oh how hard he tried.

You… a temptress in disguise, an aura so hauntingly beautiful he could not just stay away. A moth to a wild flame. Always a dangerous glint in your eye, itching for an adventure. Holding your own in class, his perfect academic rival. Truly, the way you recited incantations gave him a hard on, as much as he was ashamed to admit. You, just kept dragging him back without evening knowing it.

So… here he was at your door, the devil incarnate about to knock and confess his sick love for you. On your stomach, feet slightly swaying in the air, you hummed a tune whilst studying upon deadly plants. You figured there had to be a plethora of deadly plants that didn’t look so deadly upon inspection. Never hurt to have a sweet looking flower up your sleeve…

A gust of wind whipped through your room, inciting chills upon your arms and the harsh sway of your emerald curtains. Getting up to put on a jumper, coincidentally one of toms- a heavy pounding began on your door.

With a resigned sigh, you head to the door. Everyone knew you despised being bothered at this hour. You liked being alone, but the night is when you thrived. You thought the best then… able to think more clearly. The only person whom you allowed to disrupt this time was your Tom Riddle. Somehow, he managed to wiggle his way into your small circle. He managed to keep your attention, someone you liked to spend time with now.

Sure, he could be a tad chilly at times, and you would not deny he was a scary motherfucker. But.. he never scared you. He enticed you, showed a side of him that no one ever got to see. And in turn, you showed him a side no one even knew about. You swore yourself a fool, you let yourself become vulnerable around a man who his known to use people for his twisted benefits. Yet.. he stays close, gives you soft and sweet smiles that melt your heart.

He places a hand on your thigh when studying, always slightly squeezing. When you walk through the halls after curfew, he lays a protective hand on your back. Oh merlin, his hands. Your most favorite thing to look at. Slender and veiny, with silver rings adorning a few of his fingers. You know his hands hold immense dangerous power, yet you longed for them to be on you.

He sat with you at the back of your classes, just like a watchdog. Never paying attention, always surveying the room. Yet, his brilliant mind always managed to pass with flying colors. You both always fighting for the top marks. During these classes, he’d have a knee touching yours with his arm slung across the back of your seat.

Okay fine. You had a crush. Like a silly little school girl. Opening the door, there Tom Riddle stood before you, a lazy smirk placed upon those devilish lips of his.

‘Tom’ you opened the door a little wider, giving the devil an invitation into your room.

He enters the room with the grace of a king, surveying your trinkets on your desk, a keen eye you know that is picking up on every detail of your items. His eyes land on your open window, with a lazy flick of his hand, the window snaps shut and the curtains draw in. His wand-less magic never fails to impress you, okay fine and maybe turn you on a little bit. You quirk brow at his silent antics.

‘You’ll catch a cold’ is his short response. He looks at you now.. his eyes all but devouring every inch of your body. Ah, there is tension in his shoulders, and now that you observe his more,his hands that you oh so love are tightly clenched.

‘To what do I owe this pleasure to?’ You lean up against the wall, crossing your arms as you watch him stand stoically silent. His right eye twitches, he takes a sharp breath and in an instant his is on you.

With a startled intake of breath, you look up at the man who has now caged you in to the wall. Arms stiff above your head, and a look in his eyes that makes you quiver. Quiver in fear or arousal.. you’re not quite sure yet.

‘I’m infuriated with you.’

Your heart lurches, ‘Why… may I ask?’ You meet his stare straight on, tilting your chin up. Always being his equal despite his displeasure about the fact.

‘I’m falling apart, can’t you see?’ Exasperation coating every word. ‘You’re making a mess of me, every time I’m with you it takes everything in me to not lose control.’ He’s looking at you intently, eyes rapidly flickering over every inch of your face. He’s looking at you like your the only person in this universe, he’s looking at you like he’s…

‘What?’ You whisper breathlessly. He’s right, this is the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him. It has you stunned into silence. It’s silent for a moment, your breaths mingling with one another. You can feel the ghost of his lips above yours every time he breathes.

He snaps.

One moment his arms are above you, caging you in like you were his pray. The next, he has a hand on your throat and a hand right next to your head. With the smallest amount of pressure he squeezes in warning, like you should know you’ve done something wrong.

‘I am hopelessly in love with you, can’t you see?’ The pressure increases, and your breath hitches, and okay maybe your knickers are a little damp but that’s normal. And what?

‘I-in love with me?’ A huge grin takes over your face, you can’t help but let out a hysterical laugh. Is that what this was between the two of you? Love? You never felt love before but you suppose tom hadn’t either. He was capable of feeling such a strong emotion, and it was all at the hands of you.

He heaves a deep sigh, like your craziness is normal and you suppose to him it is. ‘Yes, that is what I said was it not?’ So straight to the point, you realized how fond of him you were in this moment.

‘Mm’ You reach up a little, slightly raising on your toes. You push your neck into his hand a little more, a devilish grin to match his new one on your lips. ‘Is that so?’

He hums a deep growl, and pushes you further into the wall. He dips, looks deeply into your eyes and kisses you like he hasn’t eaten in years. The kiss is hungry, he all but devours your lips. His hand on your neck moves up slightly, cupping the underside of your jaw and his thumb brushes the side of your lips as he kisses you into hell.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulder and the back of his neck, a hand tangling in his curls. You tug and all but whimper when his pushes into you. Letting your head fall back, you heave a breath, looking up for a merlin to come save you. You know you don’t want to be saved when the devil lowers his mouth to leave bites and kisses on your throat, cupping the back of your neck to drag you further into his mouth.

And okay fine.. ‘I am hopelessly in love with you too.’ You pant, and you groan when you feel his smirk on your neck. He hums, and raises his head to look back into your eyes.

‘Let me show you just how much I love you’

‘Please’

#tom riddle #harry potter #x reader #fanfiction #drabble #slytherin #headcanon #draco malfoy #matteo riddle #divider credit to #slytherin boys #tom riddle x reader #fanfic #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you

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lovexjoe · 4 months ago

Text

PENPALS Part 3

Your dad was suppose to be home 4 days ago with Uncle Mike but they are no where to be found. You were currently leaving the hospital when the news report caught your attention.. WANTED FUGITIVES? It broke your heart knowing Captain passed the way he did. Your dad gave you the phone call and you couldn’t even make it to the funeral due to your exams and clinicals. You knew it wasn’t true at all, someone had to be framing them.

But who is that other person with them? You knew Mike had a son but you never knew any details beyond that. They were broadcasting names and pictures on the tv. Uncle Mike popped up first. Your phone interrupted everything and you decided to just step outside because it was quiet hours in the hospital. You picked up the phone and nearly cried.

“Hey baby, yes I’m okay, but I need you to go to Dorn’s house. We got some injuries we need some help with.” Your heart felt whole again to hear your dad’s voice.

“Okay I’ll be right there.” You snuck out with a kit from the hospital and headed straight to Dorn’s house. You notice a black van was following you for quite some time, but you managed to lose them.

As you pulled into the driveway your heart started to beat fast. The idea of something happening to your dad really shook you to the core. Being away from home for so long due to nursing school you lost so much time with your family. You also missed Uncle Mike, he’s the only person that knows how to deal with your dad.

You knocked on the door to see Dorn and immediately he gives you a hug. You missed him and Kelly so much. As you walk inside you immediately give your dad a hug and check to see if he had any bad injuries.

“There’s my favorite niece!” Uncle Mike picks you up and spins you around. You noticed a familiar face in the kitchen and your heart immediately went to your ass.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You look at the prisoner who you’ve fell head over heels for but haven’t heard a word from in 2 weeks. Armando just stood in the kitchen holding a beer looking like a lost puppy. He knew he was going to see you once Marcus made that call.

“Y/N this is my son Armando he-“

“YOUR SON?!” You were in love with a MIKE 2.0 ??!??!!? That Lowrey DNA is a fucking bitch. You had the biggest crush on Uncle Mike in your teenage years now you bent ass backwards over his son.

“Princess it’s okay. He’s come a long way since killing Captain Howard-“ Marcus tries comforting you.

“Marcus…” Mike gives him a dirty look cause it was a low blow.

He killed Captain Howard?……

The look on your face broke Armando’s heart. Yes he killed Captain Howard and if he had a choice he would have never done it. He watched the terror of it unfold in front of his eyes and he regretted every moment of it. Whatever you guys had was probably dead after hearing that. You ended the conversation as you started to clean up Uncle Mike’s wounds.

“Geez I remember when I was babysitting you now you over here cleaning me up.” Mike jokes as he sips on a beer.

“Sounds like you getting old” You started to laugh as he straightens himself up and push his chest out.

“There was a car following me on the way over here but I managed to lose it.” You finished stitching up his wound and Armando was next.

“You should stay here tonight just in case. You and Armando can share the guest bedroom. Mike and Marcus can stay on the pullout.” Dorn suggested and Kelly agrees with him.

“Armando you sleeping on the floor and don’t get any ideas!” Marcus warns.

“Please Marcus, that boy is clearly in love with whoever in dem damn polaroids he got on him.” Mike teases and your face immediately turns red as you wipe down Armando’s wound. He tries to maintain a straight face but he couldn’t help the little smile that creeped up. Yes he was in love with you as crazy as it sounded. He wanted to tell you after the visit but he lost all his access due to the fight.

After playing nurse for everybody, it was time to clean up and get some rest. You and Armando headed off to the guest bedroom with the clothes and towels Dorn gave you. As soon as the door closed, you pulled him in for a hug. Yes he killed Captain Howard, but he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. You let all your emotions come to the surface.

“I thought I lost you…”You let out a soft cry. Armando caress your face and wiped your tears. He didn’t deserve you even after hearing he killed Captain you still wanted to talk to him. He didn’t want to question it, he just thanked his lucky stars.

“You could never lose me mami. I love you Y/N. The day after the visit, I wanted to tell you but the fight happened and they cut off all my access. I love you I’m so lucky to even have you.” That all you needed to hear. You pulled him in a for kiss. This time you guys had extra hours to yourself no guards to interrupt your time.

“Alright stinky go take a shower!” He strips down and you took both of your clothes to the laundry. Obviously you checked to see if anyone was up but the lights were already out. Your dad and Uncle Mike already snoring in the living room. You hopped into the shower with him, taking in his figure for the first time. He had old scars and some new wounds but god was he handsome. The water cascading down his caramel skin had you drooling. You couldn’t help but take in how …..packed he was. He was already bricked up but you couldn’t blame him. You knew he’d be getting off to your picture so seeing you in front of him like this…..he was using the last bit of self control he had.

“Touch me….” You wrapped his arms around you as the water hits the both of you. The warmth of the water and the steam filling the air was adding to the heat you were feeling for him.

“I-I shouldn’t ….we should wait…” Your foreheads touching as his hands stay firmly at your waist. He didn’t want you to feel like you were obligated to give him some ass just cause he’s out of prison. He could easily help himself in the middle of the night or just have self control. But seeing you out those fucking scrubs had him bricked and aching.

“Armando I’ve waited long enough…please touch me….I need you…” you moved his hands to your ass and started to kiss on his neck.

Fuck. The self control was out the window.

🙊🙈

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95

@ebsmind @hopetookourvibe @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @poppetbaby02 @bitchyglittersuit

@marley1773

@jacobscipioswoman @sunrisesfromthewest

@midnightheat

#jacob scipio #armando aretas #bad boys #bad boys ride or die #armando aretas x reader #armando aretas concept

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luckybyler · 9 months ago

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My observations on the VR game re: Byler, including a couple of things I haven’t seen mentioned yet

I just saw part of a game walk through on YouTube (I can’t afford VR), and hoo boy!

1. The Mike that says El is so amazing and Will wouldn’t get it isn’t the real Mike, it’s the Mike that Vecna shows Will to terrorize him: In Chapter 3, Vecna possesses Will. Will resorts to a happy memory (Mike and him in Castle Byers), where Mike gives him a a ViewMaster. Will starts playing it, but Vecna makes every memory awful, full of spiders and particles. He distorts scenes, showing things like everyone ditching Will after calling him weird and other things that blatantly didn’t happen. Then he tells him he’ll show him suffering and shows that scene where Mike talks about El while particles fall down.

2. Will is confirmed to be a human being with wants and needs of his own: During that scene, Vecna goads him to tell Mike how he feels, and that he doesn’t want to meet El at all. At this point Will and El hadn’t met in the real world, and Will didn’t wish harm on her or anything, he just didn’t want her to be there, which is a normal and natural thing to feel about your crush’s hypothetical crush.

3. Vecna’s full of shit: In chapter four, Vecna tries to possess the four boys from the Party, and fails. He tells Dustin he puts double the effort into the friendship than the other three boys do, but Dustin turns him off with the TV remote (is Dustin’s happy memory watching tv?). Then he basically tells Lucas “you’re black and people judge you for it”, but he’s in a memory of a movie date with Max (at a drive-in theatre somehow) watching happy memories of the Party. Lucas does see the monster (so it somewhat hits?), but Max says it can’t do anything and they easily shut Vecna down. He also taunts Mike by telling him he’ll never see the most awesome person he’s ever met (El) and it’s his fault because he didn’t try hard enough, but he’s in the middle of a DnD battle with the boys and doesn’t even pay attention. A couple of dice bring Vecna down no problem.

4. Mike lovingly tends to Will’s nosebleed: Vecna does almost succeed in possessing Will, but he’s with the boys playing DnD, and Mike soon realizes Will’s nose is bleeding. He takes Nancy’s shirt and uses it to clean the blood/attempt to stop the bleeding, and admonishes Lucas and Dustin for not going to get a towel. Notice that in season 1 the boys saw El have nosebleeds and Mike was never as precious about it, unless she passed out of something and then they all helped. Lucas and Dustin are even heard in the background pointing out that nobody dies from a nosebleed. There’s a funny moment when Vecna tells Will he will always be alone right as Mike sweetly asks him if he’s ok while holding his face.

5. Brenner is training Vecna (???) and points out that he’s full of shit: I don’t know if this means anything for the show’s canon, but it’s interesting. Before Vecna tries to possess the boys, Brenner points out that they’re too young and untroubled, and afterwards he makes fun of Vecna for losing against children, again.

6. Will isn’t the weakest link, he’s the link Vecna knows best: Brenner points out to Vecna that the reason he could possess Will easier is because he already knew him (from the Upside Down) and knows the nature of his fear. When Vecna tries to possess Will, he does tell him to help him find out about Lucas’, Dustin’s and Mike’s fears, and actually asks him “what is Mike afraid of?”, indicating that he knows jack shit about them. Which leads us to:

WHERE THE LEDE IS BURIED:

7. LOSING EL ISN’T MIKE’S BIGGEST FEAR. OR SOURCE OF GUILT.

It might be a fear or regret of Mike, but it’s not THE fear.

Turns out Vecna was attacking Lucas, Dustin and Mike based on superficial knowledge, suppositions and stereotypes (Dustin’s the newest of the group, Lucas is black, Mike met El), not an actual, deep knowledge of their minds. Yes, good memories helped them keep Vecna at bay. Yes, those things Vecna told them might bother them. No, those aren’t the things that are at the core of their fear and guilt, or the right angle to drive them to either the dark side or suicide if pushed about them enough.

P.S.: At some point (that I haven’t seen yet, Max tells El that she doesn’t need to be a superhero all the time, that she’s more than fine as Jane, her friend. I think this might be literal, as in, superpowers are not the key to defeating Vecna. This is a psychological thriller disguised as supernatural horror, therefore the weapons to defeat him might be more psychological.

TL; DR: Vecna will be defeated with the power of Cognitive Behavioral TherapyLove and Friendship.

#stranger things #st vr game #byler #will byers #mike wheeler

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sansaorgana · 24 days ago

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— DAUGHTER OF THE MOON (II)

PART ONE || PART THREE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader (Celebrimbor's Daughter)

SUMMARY — Annatar manages to seduce Lord Celebrimbor's daughter but her visions might interfere with his plans. Unless he can make her believe that the evil her mother was warning her about is nobody else but Lord Celebrimbor himself.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Reader's appearance is not described and her mother comes from a group of Elves that I came up with myself for the sake of this fic and its plot – the Moon Elves. I made Mirdania a bit of a mean girl here and idk I kinda feel bad about it but I also kinda don't lmao 🤣

WARNINGS — Reader's mother is dead ("madness" + suicide), manipulation, gaslighting, Reader has a vision / "is going mad" (she's basically Mirdania in this scene)

WORD COUNT — 5,190

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DAUGHTER OF THE MOON (II)

Lady (Y/N) interpreted his forehead kiss as both, so it seemed – both the blessing and the sign of his personal adoration. Whenever Annatar looked at her now, she was looking down, shyly. He could hear her heartbeat quicken its pace and he had to fight very hard not to smirk.

In fact, he was seeing her more often now. She was finding excuses to visit her father in the forge nearly every day and Celebrimbor was too busy to notice that his daughter was acting unusual and strange.

One time, Annatar overheard two women gossiping about his new friend’s daughter.

“Lady (Y/N) seems to be quite fascinated with Lord Annatar,” one of them chuckled quietly, not knowing that he was standing nearby. “Did you see her yesterday? Bumping into him as if it was an accident… She is not an actress good enough to pull that off.”

“Oh, I did see. I do wonder what her excuse will be today,” the other one giggled and covered her mouth. “He is so kind and patient for not rejecting her already because she is starting to get annoying.”

“Well, she is Lord Celebrimbor’s daughter. I suppose he cannot just–”

“Please,” her friend interrupted her. “He is the emissary of the Valars. He is above Lord Celebrimbor,” she insisted and Annatar could hear jealousy in her voice. He knew her because he worked with her in the forge. Her name was Mirdania and she had a crush on him – as silly as it sounded but it was true.

He was trying to charm everyone but it was not his intention to bring the romantic feelings out of his every victim. However, sometimes, not everything was going perfectly well and according to the plan.

“I cannot blame her,” Mirdania’s friend added, sadly. “Lady (Y/N) has been in so much pain after her mother’s passing and her father has always been the most overprotective but also neglecting her because of his work. Lord Annatar is the very first man her father trusts around his daughter and who pays her so much attention.”

“It is not very kind to gossip about your Lord’s daughter like that,” Annatar decided to step in with his hands clasped behind his back. His smile was gentle but his eyes showed a bit of harshness as both of the women looked at him in terror.

“L-lord Annatar…” Mirdania bowed down. “Forgive me, my Lord, I… We…”

“We have so much to do and I am certain that gossipping is not something we should bother ourselves with whenever we get a free moment for ourselves,” he insisted, calmly.

They both walked away as fast as possible, ashamed and with their heads kept low.

Jealousy was an ugly thing, Annatar thought. Lady (Y/N) was the most special woman inside this city – half Moon Elf after her mother, with powerful blood inside her veins and her hands blessed with so many talents. She was also a daughter of the Lord of this city and she had the biggest amount of power out of all women there. Of course they were jealous of her but they did not fear her, therefore instead of admiring her, they were whispering such nasty things.

Annatar felt bad for (Y/N) in a way. She deserved so much better and he would give it to her. He was sure that she would never deny such a gift.

“Lord Annatar!” Her voice made him turn around with a wide and kind smile. Here she was, walking towards him with her skirts gathered in her hands and yet another excuse to spend time with him on that day just like the gossipping women had suspected.

“My Lady,” he nodded at her. “What has caused you to come here and bless me once more with the sight of you?”

Oh, how she loved those compliments and sweet assurances. She froze for a moment and looked away, flustered. Her breath was becoming faster and her hands started to tremble a little.

“I was on my way to see my father,” she lied, “but seeing you on my way is a blessing as well, my Lord,” she gave him a shy smile and walked past him, very slowly.

Annatar closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling her scent. Then, he grabbed her wrist and made her stop as he opened his eyes once again and met her confused gaze.

“Please, my sweet (Y/N), you do not have to address me so formally,” he insisted. “I am Annatar to you. No Lord.”

She gasped a little and then she nodded her head as her lips curled up into a wide grin.

“Annatar,” she repeated his name. Devotion and sweetness were so audible in it that he wondered how could she not be ashamed of them but perhaps she was not even realising it.

Perhaps she needed one more push.

He visited her once again in her chambers in the evening. Actually, he had been doing that very often these days as they talked and she kept revealing to him nearly every moment of her life. So innocently handing herself out to him on a silver plate.

She opened the doors without a word and nothing but a smile. She was no longer surprised by his visits and she had been awaiting him, it was obvious. Her workshop was no longer messy and the gowns she was wearing in the evenings were the most exquisite. Even the jewellery she was wearing – her own creations – were breathtaking whenever it was time for his nightly visit.

Their shared moments were of a nocturnal nature and they both preferred it this way although the reasons differed for them both. She was simply a half Moon Elf and he was the Dark Lord. Nevertheless, under the moonlight they both thrived and so did their bond.

(Y/N) stood on the balcony as Annatar followed her there, watching the moonlight dancing in the light that reflected upon her hair.

“You are breathtaking,” he gasped and perhaps his reactions were exaggerated but he truly meant his words.

Of course, Celebrimbor’s daughter was a prize. And a woman of such power and such potential was an ally he wanted by his side no matter what. But still, with time, he grew quite affectionate towards her in the most genuine manner. Her innocence seemed to draw him in.

“Annatar, please,” she shook her head and looked away with a nervous smile. “Do not…”

“Why not?” He stood even closer as he put his hand on her arm. She flinched slightly, trying to get away from him but he stood behind her and even though he was gentle, now his body was completely over hers and keeping her still, making it unable for her to walk away without his permission.

“When you finish your work with my father… You will leave us, right?” She asked and swallowed thickly, fighting the tears in her eyes. “And what will be left of me then? I cannot handle another loss,” she confessed.

Annatar stood there still as a short silence occurred. He let her sob in his arms as he caressed her shoulders before leaning in to whisper into her ear.

“I would not be the first emissary of the Valars who chose to stay in Middle-earth because of a woman,” he confessed.

“Because of a woman?” She asked as she looked up to meet his gaze. She stopped sobbing but her forehead was furrowed and he realised that the word he had used was not the most proper.

“Because of love,” he fixed himself and raised his hand to wipe her cheek. Her tears felt like little stars upon his fingers in the moonlight.

“Oh, Annatar, I–” she gasped but he did not let her finish as he leaned in to join their lips together.

She turned around in his arms as he loosened the grip for her to be able to do so. Her own arms wrapped around him nearly desperately as her kiss grew more and more hungry. She would give herself to him right there, right now, on the balcony under the moonlight. And he would not mind that at all but he had to play the role of a pure and noble creature, therefore he took a step back, breaking the kiss.

“My Lady, we shall not,” he breathed out.

“Forgive me, I do not know what has possessed me,” Lady (Y/N) shook her head, embarrassed of herself. Still ashamed, she walked past him and went back inside.

He observed her. She felt so stupid for her behaviour that she nervously grabbed the small chisel on her desk and went back to some of the work she had abandoned throughout the day, trying to grind the piece of diamond laying on the table nearby.

Annatar leaned in on the wall as he watched her with a gentle smile. Her nervousness was making her look even more adorable but to witness her creation was as fascinating as watching her father.

As her skillful hands worked quickly, she suddenly hissed out of pain and dropped the chisel. Annatar furrowed his brows out of worry and found himself by her side in an instant.

“(Y/N), my darling,” he put his arm around her and raised her hurt hand up as he glanced upon the precious blood leaking out of the fresh wound. “You ought to be more careful, my sweet,” he swallowed thickly and even though he wanted to look into her eyes while saying those words, he couldn’t stop staring at the red liquid staining more and more of her hand.

“I just… I do not know what to think of all of this. Who am I for you to forsake the Valars for me?” Her eyes filled with tears and this finally made him look up to meet her gaze.

“Who are you?” Annatar asked gently and cupped her face. “The grandest of the Elven maidens, Lady (Y/N) of Eregion, creator of the most beautiful artistry that is admired in all the realms. Daughter of Lord Celebrimbor and Lady Dúlinnel, granddaughter of Lord Commander Nillendur. The very last Moon Elf of Middle-earth,” he spoke these things with all confidence and devotion as she kept blinking her tears away and staring at him.

“And what is all of this to a man like you?” She asked, still unsure.

“You are everything to me,” he whispered, joining their lips together once more.

Celebrimbor was in his study. It was late at night as he liked to work in silence and solitude. He was looking through the pages full of drawings and projects when he heard the doors creaking and then the footsteps.

“Who is it?” He asked as he stood up to approach the railing of the stairs leading up to his study from the forge.

“It is only I,” Lady (Y/N) smiled at him as she walked inside but then another person walked right after.

“And I,” Lord Annatar announced his arrival.

“Oh, I see,” Celebrimbor did not mind their presence out of all people. In fact, they were the closest to him. Therefore, he went back to his desk and his papers.

But when Annatar and (Y/N) stood above him, arm to arm, he raised an eyebrow at them, curiously.

“What is it again?” He sighed a little, expecting them both to try to talk him into doing something or to stop him from doing something. These past few weeks, they had become quite close and (Y/N) often accompanied Annatar when he was trying to convince her father to his ideas.

“My dear friend, we have come here with nothing but our love for you in our hearts… And a hope that you would choose to bless us,” Annatar spoke softly as (Y/N) only stood there. It was her idea that he should be the one to speak because his words were like honey.

“Bless you in what?” Celebrimbor asked, confused.

“I wish to make your sweet and precious daughter my wife,” Annatar announced softly as his lips curled up into a smile. (Y/N) held her breath, watching her father’s reaction closely.

And there was a lot to watch – Celebrimbor’s mouth opened, then closed. He looked around only to lay their eyes upon them once more. His face went a shade paler and he was visibly shocked.

“But… That would mean that…” He could not find the right words.

“That would mean that I would choose to stay in this form and live the rest of my days in Middle-earth alongside your daughter, yes,” Annatar nodded and (Y/N) looked up at him lovingly. “I am aware of the consequences of my choice, however the Valars would never go against love so pure and they have already blessed us themselves,” he lied so beautifully and (Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears at those words.

“Well, if the Gods themselves have blessed you, I cannot say no,” the Lord of Eregion chuckled nervously as he laid his eyes upon his daughter. “My darling, are you sure?” He asked, a little nervously.

“What do you mean, father?” She gasped, wrapping her hands around Annatar’s arm.

“I mean… It is rather quick…” He tried to make a reasonable excuse for his slight suspicions.

“You fell in love with my mother the moment you saw her, did you not?” (Y/N) reminded him in a gentle voice and Celebrimbor smiled at that sadly as he looked away.

He remembered the very first time he had seen his future wife – bathing in the moonlight on her balcony. She had not seen him but he spotted her, on the highest tower of one of the most beautiful mountain cities of her kin.

“Yes, I did,” he nodded and looked up at Annatar and (Y/N) again. “I bless you. It is an honour to give my daughter to a man like you, Lord of Gifts,” he smiled at his new friend and Annatar smiled back. “I shall throw you a feast to announce the betrothal,” he announced happily and his daughter’s eyes sparkled a little, too.

“My friend, please, do not,” Annatar winced as both Celebrimbor and (Y/N) froze slightly. “This is not a proper time to throw feasts for it is a privilege to be able to celebrate anything when so many people suffer now in Mordor,” Annatar reminded them. “I am of a humble nature, too, I do not require such festivities. Your daughter’s love is all I need and I am aware she prefers peace and solitude as well,” he looked down at (Y/N) and she cracked an affectionate smile at him.

“I understand,” Celebrimbor nodded. “And when do you wish to be wed? In a year as the custom says?”

“Perhaps sooner. When the Rings are forged and we can all truly celebrate,” Annatar proposed.

Surprisingly, despite his friend’s surprised expression, there was no audible protest.

“Dwarves and Elves working together. It was said to be impossible, but our cooperation has achieved this wonder,” Celebrimbor spoke from the top of the stairs to the gathered Dwarves on his left and the Elves on his right. And in front of him, with their own goblets of wine, stood Lord Annatar and Lady (Y/N), wearing each other’s silver rings now. “And today, we embark upon a new dream, to enshrine our friendship in stone,” he glanced upon his friend and daughter.

Lady (Y/N) reached out to squeeze Annatar’s forearm and he looked down at her with an affectionate smile.

“Narvi?” Celebrimbor addressed one of the Dwarves and walked down to join the rest.

“Behold!” Narvi announced as he stepped out and grabbed the rope on the ground to pull it and reveal Celebrmibor’s new work of art. “The Doors of Durin!” The Dwarf introduced the beautifully carved doors made of stone. “The new West-gate of our mountain. Unbreachable. Visible only by moonlight and guarded by a password known only to friends.”

“It is a craft my father has learnt from my mother’s kin,” Lady (Y/N) whispered to Annatar and he smiled softly at her. Her eyes sparkled as she mentioned that, remembering the love her parents had shared.

Truly believing that her own would be the same.

But as her father chatted and kept making lighthearted jokes, Annatar pretended to be not impressed as he moved away. (Y/N) tried to stop him but he shook her hand off.

“I need some air,” he told her and when she furrowed her brows and wanted to follow him, he turned around to stop her. “Please, I want to be alone. I shall come to you later,” he told her.

He knew that the conversation he would have with Celebrimbor now would not be of the nicest kind, therefore he did not want her to witness it.

“If that is your wish,” (Y/N) looked down and he could sense that she felt rejected, so he grabbed her wrist to hold it lovingly.

“I am not angry with you, my love. It is the burdens of far greater matters than the two of us that I have to carry,” he explained.

“I am aware,” she nodded, relaxing her muscles. She nodded at him with a shy smile. “I shall retire to my chambers and wait for your visit.”

And so she did but when he came back to her, his mood was somehow even worse and she only watched with terror as he kept talking to her about her father’s stubbornness when it came to the Rings for men.

“Was he not lying to the High King himself about the Rings for the Dwarves, defending them?” (Y/N) was as outraged as her betrothed. “And now he is showing such hypocrisy by denying you… The emissary of the Valars… Oh, Annatar, I am so ashamed of him!” She exclaimed. “It is as if he denied the Gods themselves!”

“Do not worry, my darling,” Annatar approached her to caress her arms soothingly. “I told him already I shall be the one to create those rings then and as I said, I shall do.”

“But… But can you?” She asked, shyly, as she looked up. “I mean, if you could do it yourself, you would have done that already without his help.”

“I do not know… But I have to try for all the people suffering now after Mordor’s rise,” he explained.

“If I can be of any help… Talk to my father to try to reason with him or perhaps there is something else I could do…” (Y/N) started as Annatar smirked a tiny bit, knowing very well she was too affected now to even notice.

It was too early to ask her for such a sacrifice, though. She would get suspicious because she was sensitive about the matter. She knew the dark history of the Moon Elves and she was afraid of becoming the darkness that so many of them had been naturally inclined to.

No, he had to wait some more time.

“Do not worry about it, please,” Annatar shook his head and kissed her forehead. “Have your faith in me and I shall be alright.”

Celebrimbor was sitting upstairs and staring at his papers but the only thing he could focus on were the sounds coming from the forge as his smiths were trying to create the Rings with Lord Annatar’s help. He could hear that they were not doing well and his new friend was growing frustrated but he also did not want to give up and help them.

After hearing Annatar scolding Mirdania gently, Celebrimbor stood up with a sigh and approached the railing as he leaned on it to watch more intensely. Annatar looked up at him as his eyes intensified but then they both looked away, avoiding each other’s uncomfortable gaze.

The usual noises of the forge were suddenly interrupted by a loud scream of terror coming from the outside. Everyone froze, staring at each other’s faces. Lord Celebrimbor’s heart skipped a beat as he recognised the scream immediately. He rushed down the stairs and spotted nothing but fear and worry on Annatar’s face as the scream was familiar to him as well.

“Lady (Y/N)...” Annatar whispered, dropping down his hammer and hurrying to the doors, giving a perfect show of nothing but pure concern.

Truth to be told, he was a little worried. He had no idea what could have caused her scream of terror but he knew one thing – that was not a part of his plan.

He was running towards the tower where she resided, with her father hurrying right after him. The people of Eregion were staring up and whispering between each other, curiously and worryingly.

Annatar and Celebrimbor opened the doors leading to (Y/N)’s workshop and they saw her standing in the middle of it as shattered gemstones laid upon her feet all around the floor. She was squeezing a small hammer in her trembling hands as if she was trying to protect herself with it from something and her hair was ruffled while her cheeks were wet from tears. She was gasping for air and took a step back at their rapid arrival to her chambers.The way she presented herself at that moment was the most pitiful.

“My darling… Breathe…” Celebrimbor took a step further and tried to approach his daughter calmly with his hand extended, wanting her to give him back the hammer. (Y/N) was looking around, lost and stressed, squeezing the hammer even tighter. “My sweet child, please, I do not want you to hurt yourself,” Celebrimbor’s voice filled with pain.

After a while of hesitation, as the feeling of confusion was slowly disappearing and her breath was calming down, (Y/N) handed the hammer back to her father.

“What happened?” He asked, taking it away from her immediately.

“I was in a place like this, but shrouded in mist and darkness, and…” (Y/N) struggled to explain, shaking her head. Her wet eyes found Annatar’s worried ones. “I saw, I…” She looked back at her father. “At first, I thought it was the forge burning… But it wasn’t.”

“What was it?” Celebrimbor asked, calmly.

His daughter hesitated with the answer as she shot a quick glance at her betrothed. She was afraid of him thinking badly of her – that she was descending into madness like her mother.

“I saw what mother had been seeing,” (Y/N) whispered as she looked down. “It was tall… and its skin was made of flames,” she continued but her gaze was being kept down, so he could not see the burning intensity of her lover’s gaze upon her. “It came toward me, breathing, reeking of death and I saw… I… I saw its eyes. Pitiless and eternal…” She began to sob again as she hid her face in her hands. “I think mother was right… It is here, it is already here…”

“My love, please,” Annatar moved finally as he approached (Y/N) softly to put his hands on her trembling arms. “You are with us now. There is nothing to fear,” he tried to comfort her in a delicate whisper as he looked up at Celebrimbor.

His friend was speechless and scared. Annatar understood why – he had lived through this before with his own wife and her ending had been nothing but tragic. Seeing the same thing happening again to his daughter had to be traumatic. And even though Annatar did not like the fact that Lady Dúlinnel and her daughter had visions warning them about him, he was sure he could still use their abilities in his game.

“Look around, my gentle darling,” Annatar whispered to his betrothed and lifted her chin up. “All is well, my love,” he smiled kindly at her and she sniffled her tears back before reaching her hands out to squeeze his desperately, seeking comfort. “All is well, I am here…” He assured her and gave her hands a gentle squeeze back.

“You must think so lowly of me now,” her lower lip trembled once more.

“No. No, my darling, no, how could I?” Annatar extended his hand out to caress her wet cheeks, glancing at her father from the corner of his eyes. Celebrimbor could do nothing but stare, being eaten alive by guilt that he could not offer the same comfort to his daughter but he was too scared and too shocked to even move slightly as he was still squeezing (Y/N)’s small hammer in his hands.

“You are the most understanding,” she sniffled her tears and closed her eyes as she leaned her cheek on Annatar’s hand. She looked so beautiful, he thought, with her cheeks wet from tears, while she was putting so much trust in him and him only.

As they stood there like that in silence, two guards stood in the doorway.

“My Lord, Celebrimbor,” one of the guards addressed him as he finally turned around to glance at them. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the guard bowed his head, “but Durin the Younger is arrived from Khazad-dûm.”

“No,” Celebrimbor shook his head, worryingly. “Tell him to wait, it is a family matter…”

“He says it is urgent. Something about the Rings,” the guard announced and now both Celebrimbor and Annatar seemed to be interested.

“I will see what he wants,” Annatar stepped out, moving his hands away from (Y/N).

“No,” Celebrimbor looked at him and put the hammer down on his daughter’s desk. “No, you stay here with (Y/N) for you are a far better comfort to her than I am these days. I will go,” he smiled widely at his friend but Annatar could sense that the Lord of Eregion was hiding something from him.

“Very well then,” Annatar nodded with a fake smile as well and he watched Celebrimbor disappear with the guards before turning around to look at his betrothed again. “My darling, sit,” he hurried back to her side and helped her to sit down on the armchair near the balcony as he opened the doors to let the fresh air inside. “Rest, gather your strength and your thoughts, I am not going anywhere,” he assured her and squeezed her hands lovingly as she looked up at him with the most devoted and affectionate eyes.

“Thank you,” she breathed out.

Annatar caressed her head and looked down at the mess on the floor. He quickly cleaned it up, making an impression of someone who would always pick up the broken glass pieces and calmly deal with the aftermaths of trouble. And once it was all done and the bigger gemstone pieces recovered from the dust were placed upon her desk, he took a deep breath in and walked outside to stand on the balcony to overhear the conversation between Celebrimbor and Durin from afar.

And just like he suspected, that awful Dwarf not only had arrived there to complain about the Ring seeming to be corrupted but he also dared to accuse him – Annatar himself, an emissary of the Valars – of having bad intentions.

And Annatar knew that Celebrimbor’s mind was already trying to shut him off more and more often. Now, Durin’s words planted yet a new seed of mistrust. Annatar was furious but he still had his plan B – sitting behind him and sniffling her tears away.

He composed himself and his angry facial expression turned into a soft one as he turned around to join (Y/N) in her chambers again. He crouched down next to her armchair and squeezed her arm.

“I am mad…” She whispered, feeling utterly defeated.

“No, you are not mad,” Annatar assured her, calmly. “You are very brave,” he caressed her arm now and reached all the way up to brush her cheeks with his fingertips. ��Some who behold the Unseen world are never quite at home in this one again.”

“Like my mother?” (Y/N) turned her head around to look into his eyes with curiosity and desperation. She wanted answers to calm down and he would gladly give them to her.

“Yes, like your mother. She was not mad either. Simply… more delicate than you,” Annatar smiled at her, lovingly. “It is a gift to be able to see the Unseen world but it comes with a terrible price. A terrible burden,” he explained.

“Have you seen it, too?” (Y/N)’s eyes filled with pain and compassion for him even though she was the one who had just suffered.

“Yes,” Annatar nodded, softly. “In its light, things appear as they truly are. Beings of different shades of light…” His eyes wandered somewhere else, leaving her face and staring at the wall in front of him. “And its darkness…” He hesitated, making sure that she catches on to that and her curiosity would make her ask for more.

“There is something you hide from me, my love. Please, I wish to understand what has just happened to me… What happened to my mother,” (Y/N) reached her hands out to grasp his wrists and to lower them away from her face as she intertwined her fingers with his, looking down at them as she smiled sadly at the sight of their silver rings.

“It pains me to say…” Annatar faked as much suffering as he could in his eyes as he laid them upon her scared face. “For what you saw, I did not wish you to see, until I had helped him to heal.”

Long silence occurred and he could not only hear but also feel her heartbeat quickening its pace.

“You… You speak of my father?” (Y/N) asked, confused. “But we spoke about it, I suggested it in the very beginning and you–”

“I never denied it,” Annatar reminded her, his voice growing a tone harsher but not too much. He just wanted to emphasise his seriousness. “I simply changed the subject, I hoped to distract you because I did not want to worry you.”

“I… I do not understand…” She shook her head as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

“The toll that creation has exacted from him in crafting The Three and The Seven has left him diminished. Vulnerable to the shadow,” Annatar squeezed her hands to comfort her.

“But he created them because of you…” The glimpse of doubt and clarity in her eyes made him freeze for a moment as his jaw clenched.

“Your father is the greatest of the Elven smiths. The task given to him might be a burden but it is an honour. He was chosen by the Valars,” Annatar answered quickly. “Promise me, you’ll speak to no one about it, my love,” his voice turned much sweeter once again as he leaned in to be closer to her. “Including him.”

(Y/N) hesitated but having Annatar’s face so close to hers, to the point of their breaths mixing, his warmth comforting her and his hair brushing her cheeks while his gaze was the most intense. How could she ever say no to this man?

“I promise,” she breathed out and he cupped her face to pull her even closer and join their lips together in a loving, bittersweet kiss.

MASTERLIST

#annatar x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand x reader #lilysfiction

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shall-we-die · 3 months ago

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{Yearn}

What is one thing that they want but can't have?

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↬[Fandom]•⊰ {Bungo stray dogs}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {Angst}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰ ────┈┈{0074}┈─╮

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╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

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↬|Dazai|

Death?💀

Dazai craves true emotional intimacy. He wants a relationship with someone who understands the depths of his complex mind, knows all the dark details of his past, and accepts him completely for who he is. He yearns to fully open up, to let down his barriers and be vulnerable with someone, but deep down he fears that no one can truly understand him and accept him, and that he's destined to be alone forever. Despite his confident and carefree demeanor, Dazai is constantly plagued by the crushing weight of emotional isolation. He yearns for a deep, genuine connection with someone who can see past his facade and truly understand the scars on his soul. But his fear of vulnerability and the deep-seated belief that he doesn't deserve love hold him back from fully opening up to anyone. This constant internal battle between his longing for connection and his fear of being hurt leads to a sense of emotional torment, leaving Dazai feeling as though true intimacy is just out of his reach.

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↬|Atsushi|

One thing that Atsushi may want in a relationship but can’t have is unyielding trust without insecurity or questioning. Due to his past experiences and insecurities, Atsushi may find it difficult to fully trust and be vulnerable with his partner without doubting or questioning their intentions. He may struggle with fear and insecurities when it comes to commitment and may find it hard to fully open up and trust that he won’t be hurt or abandoned again.

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↬|Akutagawa|

To show his emotions or his soft side. He'd really like to tell them how much he cares about them, that he truly loves them and the need to hold them, to just be close to them and to be affectionate, it's what he desperately longs for. But since he has to maintain his image as the "Bloodhound" or the "Demon Prodigy" within the Port Mafia he can't, he can never show his vulnerability and soft side to anyone.

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↬|Chuuya|

Chuuya's biggest want in a relationship is stability, comfort, and being able to be himself fully He wants to let all his walls down and be vulnerable, he wants to be soft and gentle without having to worry about being judged for it, he wants be able to talk about his insecurities without bottling them all up inside, he wants to feel safe, and at home, with a person that makes him feel accepted as he is, and with a person that he can just... Relax with.

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↬|Tetchou|

Despite being good a fighting, Tetchou is actually a surprisingly clingy person. He’d constantly want his s/o to be near him and give him attention. It’d even go as far to when his s/o is talking to another person, he’d want to be included in the conversation, if only so he can hear his s/o talk. Unfortunately, he knows his s/o wouldn’t want that all the time so he doesn’t say anything about it.

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↬|Jouno|

One thing that Jouno desperately wants in his relationship with his s/o but can't have is trust and loyalty. Given his own trust issues and insecurities, he deeply wants his s/o to be loyal and trust him completely. He expects them to have eyes only for him, which is why he gets so possessive. He wants them to be completely and utterly faithful to him, but unfortunately, he struggles to trust them. He is constantly worried that they will leave him for someone else or betray him in some way.

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↬|Fyodor|

Long, healthy life with his s/o, but with his lifestyle, that's practically impossible (his life is full of killing, blood, terror and crimes) He wants the person he loves to love him wholeheartedly and want to spend all their time with him, but he's terrified that if the person he loves were to find out about his true sinful nature, they would leave him. He wants to be a perfect partner for the person he loves, to never make mistakes or cause any harm to the person, but he's aware of his own demons and flaws that make him a terrible person. Fyodor wants to be able to fully trust the person he is dating and to be able to be vulnerable around them, but he himself knows that in his "profession" that's impossible. He wants to have a normal life with the person he loves, a normal domestic life, but he has no choice, but to try to fulfill his mission, since that's the only meaning of his life, and he can't abandon it. He wants to feel love freely without any consequences, but as a member of Decay of Angels he can't have that.

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↬|Nikolai|

Nikolai basically wants to be the center of his s/o's world. Nikolai wants his s/o to be completely devoted to him and only him, to give him all the attention and love he wants. Nikolai wants his s/o to want only him and nobody else. Nikolai would probably get jealous and mad if his s/o gave any attention to anyone else, as Nikolai is definitely the type to be very possessive. Nikolai wants his s/o to only focus on him, and he wouldn't hesitate to try and get all the attention to himself.

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↬|Sigma|

He wants to be able to fully open up to his s/o, to share all his innermost thoughts and fears with them. He wants to be vulnerable and let down his guard around her, but the reality is that he can't. As the manager of a casino that is a front for a terrorist organization, he has to keep up appearances and act confident and composed at all times. Despite this, he longs to be able to be open and honest with them and trusts them enough to show even his weak sides, but he knows that he can't due to the circumstances they are in.

||[🅈earn]||

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#𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎–[❣]#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd angst #bsd hcs #bsd headcanons #dazai osamu x reader #ryunosuke akutagawa x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #atsushi nakajima x reader #tetchou suehiro x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #bsd sigma x reader

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sea-of-dust · 7 months ago

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Alva,Frederick,Edgar,Demi x Rock Vo. GN! Reader

Compared to the way you dress they would have never guessed you knew your way around a ballroom

N: I'm gonna keep thinking of acheron and black swans dances final frame. Also Frederick's new skin, that thing has a grip on me,poppin party,Céline Dion,Mustard service references

Warnings: mentions of drinking, might be ooc

Ugh, you and luca being friends is one thing, him noticing the hunter and saying "ez sweep" is another. Luca would tell you what to do against him you'd do it, he'd get pissed you two would do it everytime you see em. Strangely enough is that you've never seen Alva before and when you asked who the fabled "tall coat guy" luca would answer "litterally a tall coat guy"

As soon as you did see him however you knew why luca didn't want you to ever meet him. His cold gaze, the scar near his eye, the elegance he radiates. "Are you single?" "Excuse me?" Luca would know instantly if you met him when you come back like a children's cartoon protagonist that's just been kissed by their crush. "Wow..." he was mortified.

Luca does get a bit werided out when he thinks too much about you crushing on his teacher, that dosent stop him from giving you heads up tho. "There's a public map" you stop tuning your neck nearly snapping to see him "where? Can I perform? Is the tall coat guy gonna be there?" "Dunno" "I'll take it" So the most delulu person on earth (you/j) decided to perform under the deck of the ship, not paying much mind as you played songs you thought he'd like, trying not to make direct eye contact with this seemingly uninterested man, too focused on his conversation with the clerk. You thought maybe he had tuned you out after the first few chords, until the next match with him where he hummed. A humming a little too similar to the lyrics you sang. While kiting him you could barely believe your ears, you had to have Demi fact check you.

A few more performances and a chair was all it took for him to begin to speak to you. "That voice of yours is wonderful" your eyes widen, looking up at him quickly, he smirks, reminiscing on the concert. "I'm normally not the type to like rock. I'm glad you're an acception" you froze, you could have sworn he could hear you internally scream or atleast see you blush as much as you did

He isn't very social but you've gotten the treat of seeing him smile, and not terror shock you as much. "You've gotten soft" "have I now?" In truth you went from being able to kite at least 3 ciphers to 2.5, he doesn't terror shock you but he makes up for it in actual shocks. Atleast he's friendly enough to show you where the dungeon is before poking you with the staff. There would also be the occasional soft look in his eyes eventually making a bit more physical contact with you. "You're so pretty" you re-wrap his bandages causally mummbling that out, he retracted his hand quickly. "Did I tie something too tight?" "No" you hold out your hand for his arm. "Do you really think im pretty" your eyes widen "I didn't think you heard me but yea, the way your eyes pierce into people is attractive" you blush embrassed you're rambling this much "atleast in my opinion" he looks away before placing his arm into your hand to continue wrapping, you continue on nervously wrapping them. He'd look at them later on in the match, thinking about what you said, it's too distracting for him to just not hear "you're pretty" over and over

He'd ask you out pretty awkwardly, because it would be straight to the point. "I love you, please consider me as a partner" "." He'd stand there like a brick and you would be to, out of pure shock your brain would have just exploded by then. "Sure-" brainfart of an answer, biggest regret of your life. Thank god he didn't seem to mind.

He likes comming out of his office just to see you out there practicing, you'd hear his foot steps and greet him with a smirk. "You've been in there for 15 hours I can't feel my hands" "I'm sure you're fine" "they feel like white noise" "so you feel them" "no" closing his eyes he'd listen to your careful fingers press on strings and strum, whenever he opened his eyes he always looked love struck so you try to block out his face from your mind, but the more you try to shut it out the more clear it gets. You had to stop looking at him when you practice

He'd notice if you've overused your voice during a match. Coughing, trying to relieve strain, pinching the front of your neck. He'd stop you mid kite and tell you about ways to relieve it. "Hopefully you like tea and honey." "?" "For your throat" "oh" he kisses your forehead. "I'll prepare some after this. Go decode for now" you'd have a higher chance of failing ciphers after that, Luca had to supervise. "He's so pretty..." "decode for him" easiest way to get you to lock in and to shut up about Alva

The only pet peeve he has with you is when you're both in a match and a survivor would say something along the lines of "I don't know how to get around this hunter" and you and luca would respond simultaneously "ez sweep" so he started finding loop holes, such as winking at you during kites, flirting with you if he found you first leaving the cipher bare, and just going after Luca first. He was no longer "ez sweep" to you two anymore, you had to tell a new survivor to "follow their gut!" For a while

He didn't care much for your rumors about being an aristocrat, if anything they're an afterthought, and an explanation on why you're able to causally name plants, and almost never use your hands when eating you'd eat fruits with a fork or a toothpick. This did come into play when you asked him to dance. Surely nothing it could be fine? He barely remembers how to do ballroom dance, so you went easy on him. It felt like a roller coaster. You could be able to tell he was embrassed everytime he almost stepped on your feet, the quick turns he wasn't ready for you'd catch his eyes widen. Somehow able to dip someone as tall as him you catch an exhausted smile on his face. "I should do this more often with you" he scoffs "maybe another time"

Ugh, as a musician he respects you knowing your talents after attending a show you did in the lobby, or just hearing it blast a few times but knowing your background you're gonna have to go the extra mile to even get him to associate with you. A person dressed like some local turning out to be an aristocrat, and their family respects that? Ridiculous you must be lying

He'd warm up to you slowly, he was annoyed he could hear you practice? Take these headphones. Then he couldn't hear the piano? Alright you'll change the time you do practice. He'd hate to admit it but when overwhelmed He'd purposely look for you while practicing, chaotic riffs like the ones you play would usually overwhelm him, but there's a difference when you practice, you're humming the lyrics softly while playing watered downed versions of certain bits, sometimes pleasing soft riffs. It's therapeutic, won't let you catch him listening though

That changes when you begin to date him. Now he's in the same room! "Im gonna pratice one i dont think youd like much" "I'm sure I can enjoy it regardless" you hum uncertainly hesitantly placing your fingers where they need to go, and begin to play, the melodies seeming uncertain of themselves as if shy. "With all the times I made mistakes infront of you I never expected you to be so considerate it hurts your performance" he sits closer to you "I'll be alright, play as you see fit regardless of me being in audience" "alright..." You play a bit hesitantly in the beginning, but pretty quickly you practice as usual, you sigh as you complete it. "That was too difficult" "do you want me to not be here when you practice?" You're not very sure how to answer that

He'd enter your room at night. "I know you're awake" "WOAH" you jolt back squinting your eyes to try and get a better look at him. "Why are you here at this hour?" "I got scared" "Sure bud" you embrace him, letting stiff arms return the favor. In truth he was kept awake by the thoughts of things couples usually do, sleeping in the same bed being one of them, imagining you there just wasn't going to cut it for him, to have you near him, to trust him enough to sleep in the same room as him let alone close to his chest, he felt at ease. You would wake up to his grip firmly around you or from him carassing your cheek or playing with your hair.

It feels werid when you two aren't in manor games together, you're like eatchothers lucky charms, he can't really handle if you're in too many games without him in a row. "I gotta get back soon Frederick might sleep on the piano again" Demi raises an eyebrow "he what?" "what if he stares so hard at my guitar it ends up full of sorrow" Demi's heard it all, she's heard of him evaporating, laying on couches, playing piano then sighing pausing and continuing to play a more loudly and harshly (according to Luca) "he thinks about alota things at once you know"

He does feel a bit strange when it comes to physical affection. Hugs and small kisses did feel a icky, when you do show him physical affection you'd try to keep it to a minimum accolading this, he judges you for that. Playing with his hair and stopping he looks up at you with narrowed eyes "what?" "Keep going" he grumbles. He'd start turning around to judge you if you dared to remove your hands from him. Sometimes even initiating, which would confuse and fluster the heck out of you. He does have his limits don't push them and he'll be fine.

He'd invite you to practice with him sometimes. It would always fluster the hell outta you but barely for him. "Are you sure?" You look around a bit frantically "I'm sure" "I'll get my gutair then" as soon as you sit down with him it usually goes with him beginning to play, you joining in after seeming to get the gist, you realize there was sheet music the entire time for you, say that you're "built diffrent" for just knowing what to play automatically "I'm just built like that" "Uh huh..." he disregards it, he knows you forget about the sheet music most of the time. Atleast he doesn't stay there for hours away from most people, that much anymore, now he spends atleast half of that practice session with you.

So to punish you for almost always never paying attention, he decided to make a song, no surprise he'd already think of making you a song, this was just an excuse for if you ever asked him why. "Do you mind if we practice again today" "you can't get enough of me can you" teasing him, you go with him hearing the unfamiliar song he began to play, you get behind him and begin to read the sheet music. "This one has alot of emotion to it" you continue to listen, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I think I got this" letting go of him, you play along with the emotional tone of the song. Test magically passed

You'd tease him with some song choices, letting him recognize the songs he wrote played on your gutair, or singing a lyric he just can't pass over for some reason "you haven't found everything you've been searching. Find it with me then we'll lose it and find it again" he blushes you could tell he was thinking too much on it. he turned away closing his eyes as you continued on singing, was your voice always this hypnotizing? Why are these chords so flustering now of all times? "Please stick to rock" "this is rock" "oh" you could barely hear that, getting closer to him you whisper in his ear "pleasantries-" "something I say to you, love" "so you know this" he tries to hide his flustered face. "The lyrics are pretty tame I'm surprised a song you've heard for a while now flustered you" you hug him kissing his cheek. You look foward to his reaction whenever you play songs like that near him, or just him paying too much attention to the lyrics and drifting into his imagination

Now imagine him finding out those you being an aristocrat rumors were real. You had him thinking you were normal until you ate a grape with a toothpick and knew how to tie his aggressively fancy bows. As soon as a partner dance came along you quite litterally swept him off his feet. A style of partner dance that was unique full of dramatic turns it almost felt like you were just dragging him along a bit, a weightless, graceful dance that would have been unexpected if you weren't accustomed to it. A dip is where you two make eye contact. "Did I tuker you out too much?" You smile uncertainly,him huffing to catch his breath, his mind racing with thoughts. "I'm fine" "would you like to do for another then?" "I'd rather not"

Ugh, pretty loud and he just hears the mumbles, he'll think it's incoherent metal, disrupts painting when you hear a sudden yell no matter how pretty it is

He dosent dislike you personally, after all you gave him your spare ear muffs when he brought this up to you. He becomes a good ally after that, you could go for a rescue and he'd be able to cover you. Those ear muffs come in handy, so handy that hunters try to take them. Unfortunately, you or him are always the first to yank them off or knock It out the hand of the hunter

He would slowly become apart of you Demi and Lucas crew. That one guy in a group that's never there but when he is it makes that day better, he's that guy. It gets so hype over there the hunter would turn their head wondering about the noise. "we got it guys!!" "YEA" "were getting a 4 escape!!" The hunters oprea singer

He'd grow super attached to you after you say something positive about his art. "Youve made this in a day?" "Yea?" "I find that hard to believe, the layering in this, the way they don't just lay ontop of eatchother but blend, not to mention accurate shadows" you take a pause dazed at the fine work. "It's beautiful" he doesn't speak, shocked that you knew the beauty and worth of his art something that most he met didn't understand, he fell for you hard over those comments, exactly why he shows you his pieces more often

You two would start dating rather quickly, you dropping signs the most aggressive way possible, causally holding hands when alone, sharing a cipher and really bad ideas "we should rescue luca" "no" "?" "He told me I should cut my canvas in half so I had four drawings instead of two" "...I mean in concept it's good but it might set ya off" "it already did" "after half then?" "Yea" thankfully Demi swooped in

You do try to sit down and paint with him. It was like a toddler following along a Bob Ross tutorial, but atleast Bob didn't stare at your painting for long periods of time. "Are you familiar with aristocrats?" "Yea?" He narrows his eyes "are you one?" "Are my drawings that bad?" "No these strokes are just ones nobility usually do" "crazy" he knew you were an aristocrat, and one that appreciated his art is even better. "Consider me your biggest fan in the art world" he giggles going back to his piece

He's run out of paintings during a match? Suddenly this isn't a match it's a rock show. "Find something in the item boxes nearby I'll distract them for you" distract them the loudest way possible how did you even bring an amp to a match?! "Why do you keep playing poppin party songs" "1) they're loud enough to cover the sound of us moving 2) they're more focused on me, the source of the music and 3) if you actually noticed" you point at Joseph "I found out he in particular has a real liking for Arisa he's not just gonna ignore her out of all people" Sure enough a familiar photographer appeared in the distance. "You mind opening the exit gate"

Despite him being sarcastic as hell he tries to sing along when you practice or perform. "You look like someone just sucked the life outta you" "how do you do this on the regular?" "Vocal practice wait till you have to scream in matches to save people" "." This stuff isn't for him but listening to you do it sounds alot better, and its nice to hum. You've caught him humming more times than you can count, and whenever you tell him he gets embrassed. "It's cute tho" "I'm sure the hunter could catch us if I continued" "They're across the map"

He hates the way you kiss whenever you're rushing somewhere. You do this thing he calls the entertainer's peck. Where you'd wave or acknowledge him, kiss his cheek and continue walking. He hates it because of how it lingers, you can't just take his hand to turn him toward you only to kiss him on the cheek and leave to a concert area or to decode. You're making him lose focus, one of those kisses that make you want another. You'd have him mummbling like a fool, espically if he could chase after you he'd give you his own peck, which led to the part he hated the most, the soft "I'll cherish this" expression on your face when you look back at him. He's giving you another until you stop looking at him like that!

He knew you were an aristocrat and he was thankful for it there was a higher chance you realized his talents. Hed ask you to dance first. "Shall we dance?" "Sure" informal way of accepting but formal style of dance. The way you both were able to be in sync no matter what move you threw at him, it turned out to be more of a test of skill than a friendly dance, as soon as you dipped him you could see all of the energy he lost hit him at once as he could barely keep himself up, you giggled at his predicament. "We should do this more often, you're alot more used to this than I thought" "we should, maybe I could try tossing you" his face straightens "nevermind"

Party! She's litterally with you all the time, with Luca as a carry on. You three would basically host rock concerts in the manor. You'd sing about freedom and living on, who cares for the noise complaint invest in ear plugs!!

You'd always be with her or luca during the games, though you do prefer Demi a bit more, she dosent laugh so hard it alerts the hunter. She's also more aware than Luca making running away alot easier. Though after games you prefer Luca, Luca doesn't cling to you so much you have to sleep in the same bed as him to make him feel better, he just calls you his hero

Does help when you're rescuing her, Naiad could be dashing toward you yet all be stopped by a simple ear spliting shreak from you, you had her seeing double. "I didn't know you could also do metal" "it's useful with the amount of commissions I get"

She'd randomly get an idea to try and wing along while you play. "I got it I got it" reasuring herself you begin to play familiar chords as she opens her mouth you change them to diffrent ones "I DONT KNOW THE LYRICS TO TEAR DROPS" "you got it!" She indeed barely had it, barely able to say of the lyrics correctly. Her revenge? "You mind playing this" she shows you probably the most confusing sheet music you've seen in your career a Frederick special if you will. "Alright-" and so the manor wondered what happened to the music they randomly heard when passing your room for the next 2 days

She'd fall asleep If you two weren't summoned for a round that day leaving you and her alone to explore the manor or practice guitar. People would come and go to you twos makeshift karoke. Espically Norton apparently. "IT WAS LOST LONG AGO BUT ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" those two would sing with their hearts out the whole manor could tell you the lyrics by heart. You could play a cord to a song she'd accidently "ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" "." "That wasn't the right song?" "No"

Almost scream royality. Random bug? "AHHHHHH" small spoke? "AUHHHHHHH" you and luca pretending to be possessing eatchothers bodies "NOOOOOO" surprisingly she doesn't scream like this when a giant nun lady jumps at her, except when she did and found out why you're scream royality. "So how'd ya get chaired?" "Rescue me first" "you're way too far from half" she pouts "so I tried screaming to burst her ear drums like you do..." "and?" "And she looked me straight in the eyes, then the cat screamed louder I swear it was like one of yours and then I was here" ".pft" "not cool!"

She gets tipsy during rounds, leading to some fun confessions of love. "Y/n...I love youu" she leans onto you, puckered lips to an exaggerated degree. "I gotta decode Demi" sighing you let her cling onto you tighter "did any person tell you how cute you are? Am I the first?" "You aren't" she gasps dramatically "reallllyyyy?" "Yea, a barmaid got to me before you" she blows a raspberry

She leads you away for rounds, asking for help setting up a kiting area. "Thanks for the help" she lands a kiss on your cheek. "Demi" "what?" "I appreciate it but Luca might vomit over this again" "he forced himself to" she wraps her arms around your waist, leaning in to be closer to you "he'll be fine" he wasn't fine. "You two really gotta get a room" "wadya mean?" "You keep looking with these lovey dovey eyes, were all on the same cipher and that poor guys probably single handedly evading that rock guy. "Arent they the same person" "yea they both got that same scar" "now you're tag teaming me?" "Yea" you both make the same look.

If she were ever to escape the hunter injured she'll run to you near instantly. "I think you should kiss me and all my injuries will heal" "that's not how it works Demi" you continue your healing "you're so warm..." "I know" "hehe" you kiss her forehead, finishing up. "I'm still injured" she dramatically places her hand on her forehead, both of you hearing a cipher being popped. "Oh look you're at full health" she sighs "worth a shot"

You being an aristocrat? She didn't care much but it did affect how you did certain things, and explained why you knew how to take care of plants,paint, and piano...barely the gutairs more fitting. When you asked her to dance, she got flustered, such a formal request, but comming from you it should have been a bit obvious it was comming. She didn't expect how graceful you were, it felt like an instructor dancing with their student for a test, the turns focused eyes turning to soft looks whenever you made eye contact with her. It was a flustering the hell outta of her she couldn't think for more than two secounds with you suddenly invading her thoughts with the shift in demeanor. When she took the lead by the end and dipped you, you seemed to snap out of it. "You're really good at improv" "how sweet of you" she huffs bringing you up to stand. "Would you like to dance again later?" "You sound like an old noble"

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sleepyyywriter · 1 month ago

Text

Just You Is Enough For Me

A/N: I’d like to point out that my recollection of the movie is vague because I have only watched it once, but I needed a fix it fic asap. This one is for me but if you enjoy, yay! (Also, might’ve altered or moved events around but, you know. Fiction. Also, also! I did ridiculous research on pleas and whatnot and again, because this is fiction, I used what I liked and ignored the rest.)

Word Count: 8k

Genre: Fluff, fix-it fic

Heads up, this is not the fic for you if you liked Lee's character. Sorry.

Finally, thanks to @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend for listening to me spiral about Arthur and for giving me the space to come up with this idea. Love youuuu! 💜

The pencil in her hand snapped in half as she gazed up at Arthur, her eyes wide and the terror clear as day in them. The biggest mistake he could make at this point was firing them as counsel.

“My client needs a break, your hon-“

Before she even knew what she was doing, she had grabbed at Arthur’s suit and yanked him down, her eyes boring into his and effectively halting his protests.

She wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell him with her eyes, she couldn’t actually say anything aloud, even if she could get her mouth to open, but Y/N needed him to understand what she knew in her heart.

They were his only shot at not rotting at Arkham for the rest of his life. They were his only shot at getting the help he so desperately needed. That he deserved and had been denied his whole existence. She knew that, why didn’t he?

The voices around her sounded so distant as they looked into each other’s eyes, hers pleading and his avoidant.

No. Not avoidant. He was looking for her, no doubt. All he did was look for her, the one responsible for this shitshow. The one who was in it for the fame and publicity that came with being the joker’s girlfriend, or whatever the fuck she was.

Y/N knew about her, who didn’t? And she hated her. She told herself it was because of the harm she was causing Arthur’s case. And because it was so obvious she didn’t actually care for him. Not all of him anyway. But if she were to be honest with herself… Well. There was no time for that right not.

Right now, they had to figure out if there was a way to salvage any of this.

As they made their way to the room they were provided with by the court, Y/N could tell Maryanne was pissed. They had been dealing with the repercussions of everything Lee said and did in front of the media, and Arthur’s outburst could very well be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if Maryanne herself asked to be dropped as counsel.

As the bailiff shackled Arthur to the table at the center of the room, Y/N intercepted Maryanne at the door, involuntarily cringing at the glare sent her way.

“Let me talk to him first?”

“This is not the place for your stupid cru-“

Y/N yelped and shut the door, hoping Arthur hadn’t heard that from the other side.

“This has nothing to do with that!” she interrupted, lightly shouldering Maryanne away from the door and towards the bench outside of the room. “You need to calm down. If you go in there, guns blazing, he is going to shut down and we won’t be able to convince him to stay.”

“You think we can? You think you can?” she sneered, her lips pursing in anger as she massaged her temple with her fingers.

Y/N smiled tightly and made her way back into the room, “I’m gonna fucking try.”

-----------------------------

She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, arms across her chest as she leaned into the closed door, her eyes on the squirming, hunched over figure in front of her.

A part of her was trying to find the words, nice ones at least, to try to talk some sense into Arthur. Another part of herself, the pettier side, was enjoying how uncomfortable Arthur seemed.

Good. She hoped he knew he had fucked up. She especially hoped he knew how he had hurt her feelings.

She was very aware the crush was one sided, judging by the dopey smile he got on his stupidly handsome face every time Lee was brought up. And that was okay. Really! Her main concern was getting Arthur the help he needed, not any silly schoolgirl fantasies her exhausted brain would concoct right before she passed out on her bed.

Y/N had accompanied Maryanne from day one as she worked Arthur’s case, and she thought they had formed a friendship. Maryanne of course cared for him and wanted to help; she was more centered, maybe even more professional? And that why she was so damn good at her job.

Y/N was the younger associate. She could afford to be swayed by emotions. She could afford the reassuring smiles and the daily jokes and teasing banter. She was the good cop to the clients. And more so with Arthur. She could still remember how skittish he was at the beginning. How accustomed he was to people hurting him or making fun of him, that he didn’t talk to them at all for the first three days.

It wasn’t until Y/N told a joke, a very bad one she profusely apologized for, that he finally acknowledged them. She remembered how her heart ached at the sight of his scabbing eyebrow and his busted lip. How a smile made its way to her lips at the sight of his smile, so child-like and innocent and a perfect match for the twinkling seas of juniper leaves in his eyes.

It was with that memory in her head and those emotions in her heart that she finally moved. She pulled the chair next to him and sat, her elbow on the table as she rested her face on her palm.

“What the fuck, Arthur?” she sighed, her eyes searching his.

Laughter burst from his lips, but she recognized this one. It wasn’t that breathy huff before a genuine smile painted his lips. This was the laughter he couldn’t contain. The one that hurt him and wouldn’t let him get enough oxygen into his lungs. This was the laughter that left him hunched over in pain, gasping for air and afraid.

Y/N pursed her lips, mentally kicking herself for triggering him like this, and placed her hand on his back as she hummed Durante’s Smile, hoping it was as comforting for him as it was for her.

He was always singing something, nothing she ever knew of course. He had once wrinkled his nose in the most adorable way when she had played some of her music for him, her AC/DC and Bon Jovi “too loud” for him. She had laughed and they had both agreed that music could be important to both of them without necessarily meaning the same type of music.

Still, this one was one of the few “oldies” she had in her repertoire, and she hoped it was offering him some comfort.

As his chest stopped heaving and his laughter had been reduced to sporadic bursts that didn’t leave him as breathless, he began to speak.

“Lee is trying to free me. She is helping me, Y/N.”

“Arthur,” she began, her eyes shutting as she tried to keep her distaste for Lee from her face.

“We’re going to build a mountain! We’re going to be happy! And you just want me locked up. She said-”

Her hands balled into fist over his suit, and she had to make a conscious effort to pull away and not pull at his clothes.

“She said what, Arthur?” she asked, her voice tight with poorly disguised anger.

“That you- you don’t want to help. That- that you’re like them. You underestimate me and you think I’m dumb, and you don’t care about me. And-”

She raised her hand to silence him, using the other to push away from the table and get herself to her feet, needing space from him.

“I’m here, jeopardizing my job to beg you to please let us help you. Every day I go home from the office, I have to make sure nobody is following to scream at me, throw rotten shit at me or hit me because I am defending you. Which has happened by the way. And every day, every fucking day Arthur, I go back into that office and stay there until the break of fucking dawn trying to find a way to help you. And you’re telling me I don’t care? Because the one who is actively sabotaging your defense told you so?”

Maryanne came back inside at that, surprise on her face at the tone Y/N had taken which usually only she used when she needed to strongarm stubborn clients.

“You know what? I actually don’t fucking care whether you fire Maryanne or not. I quit regardless.”

Y/N ignored Maryanne’s calls and she certainly didn’t look back at Arthur as she stormed out of the room, with what felt like her whole heart stuck in her throat as she blinked the tears away.

She knew it wasn’t fair to talk to Arthur like that and much less to up and abandon him. Even if that was what he was asking for. She had proved to him once more that everyone left him when he needed them the most, but his words had cut her too deep.

She had poured her heart into doing everything in her power to help. She had called witnesses, she had read over files numerous times, fighting through the tears as she read about every despicable thing Arthur had lived through.

When what she read began plaguing her dreams, she would get back up and continue her work at home, hoping to find the smoking gun that would get the world to see he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. He was a product of his fucked-up upbringing and the disregard society had for the poor and ill. Arthur needed help, proper help he was not going to receive where he was currently locked up at and so every day she worked. How could he say she didn’t care? How could he believe her? Y/N was in his corner first. Which was a stupid sentiment. Childish even. She still couldn’t stop feeling it.

-------------------------------

Y/N couldn’t remember how she had gotten home. She must’ve taken the right buses because there she was, keys in her hand and her back to her door as she blinked into her dark apartment.

With a sigh, broken and drawn out, she took off her shoes and chucked her briefcase and purse somewhere into the living room. She’d look for them in the morning but now, she was a woman on a mission as she stalked toward her kitchen, two things on her mind. Vodka and ice cream.

As she carried her bowl and the entire bottle into the living room, the phone rang. She groaned and looked down at her occupied hands. There was clearly only one thing to do. Y/N poured a hefty amount of vodka into her ice cream and set the bottle aside as she grabbed the phone and carefully held it between her ear and shoulder.

“What the hell happened to ‘I’m gonna fucking try’?” the voice on the other end laughed.

“I will hang up on you if you’re calling to scream at me. Or make fun of me. I’m off the clock, you can do it tomorrow and pay me for it,” she grumbled, shoveling a spoonful of her special ice-cream into her mouth.

“You’ve been ballsy today,” Maryanne snorted and Y/N rolled her eyes at the sound.

“Can I help you or…?”

“He’s not firing us.”

“Good! Best of luck to y-”

“-on one condition. He wants you back on the case.”

Y/N scoffed, wincing as the too big spoonful of ice cream momentarily froze her brain. “And you told him to fuck off?”

“I most certainly did not. I said we would go up to see him tomorrow bright and early because you have a good head on your shoulders and a lengthy career ahead of you and you’re not going to let a stupid crush keep you from working this case, winning it, and watching your career take off.”

Y/N glared into her bowl, her eyes following the puddle forming around the lump of speckled white, both from the vodka she had added and the heat from her hands that was melting the rest.

“He’s a person. Why can’t we just help him because he deserves it? Not because of what that can do for us?”

Maryanne sighed and her tone softened, “We’re doing that too, Y/N.”

They spent a couple of minutes on the line going over ideas on how to salvage the shitshow that was today before they both agreed to meet at Arkham bright early tomorrow morning.

Y/N had an idea. She thought it would gain sympathy from the jury and get rid of Lee. That would break Arthur, but it would help their case. Even if it meant he hated her for it.

-----------------------------------

Y/N refused to look at him. It was “Mr. Fleck” this and that and even Maryanne couldn’t contain her laugh.

Still, the backstabbing bitch found a way to leave them alone for a bit, something about speaking to the warden about something. Oh, Y/N could’ve killed her.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I-”

Okay, maybe shoving an unlit cigarette in his mouth was childish, but if it kept him from speaking to her, who was actually winning?

Absentmindedly, she lit the cigarette with the lighter she always seemed to carry now. Even though she didn’t smoke. This definitely did not coincide with meeting Arthur.

Arthur sighed and took out the cigarette, putting it out on the ashtray as best he could with shackled hands before trying to apologize once more. “Y/N I-”

“You hurt me. What you said was mean and hurtful. And-” Y/N faltered as she tried swallowing down the knot in her throat. “I know she is, you know. But you know me. You know I care. And you still doubted me.”

Their eyes met and her breath caught in her chest. His eyes had the tendency to change according to his surroundings. The room they were in was poorly lit, but the pale hues of his jumpsuit still found a way to reflect on his eyes. They were favoring the ocean today, the one that used to be in her backyard during her childhood. The ocean that lulled her to sleep and brought her safety and comfort. His ocean was currently twinkling with unshed tears, and she hated being responsible for that.

Maryanne barreled into the office in that moment, not paying attention to them as she slammed a file on to the table.

“She has been lying to you and using you to get back at her rich daddy. And it’s about time you knew.”

Y/N turned to Maryanne, her eyes wide in shock. This was news to her and certainly not the plan of attack they had come up with last night. The plan was to get Arthur to denounce the Joker as a figure meant to incite riots and violence. Y/N figured that the minute that Arthur separated himself from the madness and violence done in his name by people who didn’t know or care about him, Lee would leave. Since she was just in it for the exposure. For Joker, not Arthur.

Arthur was meant to bring attention to who he was. A hardworking, devoted son who woke up day after day and went to work and sought out help and wanted to get better. He just needed a little bit of help to get back on his feet and the death penalty was not the way to go. That was the fucking plan. Not this!

“Maryanne?”

“Y/N? Did you know?”

At this, Y/N found herself at his side, his shackled hand in hers as she gazed into his eyes. “No, Arthur. I did not. Please believe me this time.”

Arthur nodded and Y/N dropped his hand, sending Maryanne a glare before she picked up the file and read on.

She could feel the warmth of Arthur’s body as he leaned into her to read the file as well.

Arthur had told her that Lee had set fire to her mother’s home. She had painted quite a story for him, and Arthur believed her.

Instead, she was a rich girl who hadn’t struggled a day in her life. What’s more, she had voluntarily committed herself for some crazy reason, and had then convinced Arthur it was his fault she was being sent away. The only truth she had ever told him was her name. “That bitch!”

Arthur stiffened beside her, and Y/N gritted an apology through her teeth. That was still his girlfriend at the end of the day.

“I want to talk to her.”

Y/N and Maryanne looked at each other; they both knew that was a bad idea. She would find a way to twist the facts and he would believe her. She would be free to continue wreaking havoc and inching him closer to the death penalty.

Arthur was trusting and more than anything, he just wanted to be loved. To be seen. That was the key to manipulating him. She could do it too. While she knew he didn’t feel the same way for her, she was aware that she become a friend to him and she could use that to get him to do what she wanted him to do. What she needed him to do for his own good.

Just thinking about it made her feel wretched and she knew she couldn’t do that. Especially after she had just begged him to trust her seconds ago. No. She had to do better. He deserved that much.

“Arthur,” she began, turning to him and taking his hands into hers once more, “can you give me a few moments of your attention? No interruptions. No questions. Just listen to me for a minute. And then I promise to listen to you. Can you do that?”

His head tilted to the side as his eyes bore into hers, trying to figure her out. Everyone always brought up his upbringing, his poverty, his low IQ. As if that made him less. As if life hadn’t seen all of that and still deemed it necessary to teach him lessons in the hardest, most despicable ways possible. Arthur had the uncanny ability to see through people’s intentions. He knew when he was the butt of the joke. But he wanted to be loved and so he put up with the taunts and the abuse because a part of himself thought it was a small price to pay to be loved. What a silly, hauntingly beautiful man. God, when had this become more than a crush?

With a nod and a squeeze to her hands, Arthur broke her from her reverie. And so she talked.

She explained how it would be a good idea to hold off on talking to her. How, it was great that they loved each other (that was a lie but he didn’t need to know that) but the public didn’t care for that. How, as much as we shouldn’t care what the world has to say about us, in this instance, public opinion literally held his life in their hands. Finally, she explained how she would not be able to live with herself if they were unable to win his case, if the same society that failed him again and again won in the end and took his life. Y/N begged him to please let her help him in the best way she knew how. She reassured him how Lee and he could go back to being a happy couple as soon as this was over and nobody would be able to tell him otherwise. What she didn’t say, however, was how she didn’t think Lee would stick around when the news outlets and camera flashes stopped following her every move. He could hate her for the rest of his life so long as he was off death row and living the life he always deserved. She could live with that.

“I know it’s not what you want. You deserve to talk to her and ask her to clear this up. I’m asking for the impossible from you, Arthur. But I need you to help me help you. Yes?”

His face was contorted in agony and despair, the lines around his eyes deepening as he furrowed his brows and a part of herself broke knowing she was once again the cause for his pain.

She didn’t speak and neither did Maryanne; they both knew the ball was now on Arthur’s side of the court and whatever he decided would dictate the course of his case.

“How much longer will this go on for?”

----------------------------------

They left with a tentative agreement from Arthur. He wasn’t willing to cut off contact with Lee for too long and so now they had the difficult task of trying to end this trial quickly, and in their favor.

“I have a feeling he would hate this. But… what if we file a written motion for a change of venue?”

“That would push the trial date back, Y/N.”

“Yes, but you know the riots and general unrest in the city are not doing him any favors. Any jury picked from Gotham is going to convict him no matter how good our case is. And-” Y/N trailed off, collapsing into the sofa in Maryanne’s office.

“-and it creates more distance between Arthur and Lee if we move it?” Maryanne finished knowingly, handing her over her own glass of whiskey.

Y/N grumbled a plea for her to be quiet and took a generous gulp of her drink, scowling at Maryanne’s laughter.

“You know, Dent is not going to agree to that.”

At this, Y/N smirked and straightened in her seat, “oh! Did I forget to tell you how he got Sophie Dumond to testify in court?”

“Did you find something?”

“No. But I can.” She begun, shushing Maryanne before she could even get a word in. “Do not ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

Maryanne nodded and with that, Y/N left her office and made her way to her own, to draft up the motion and call up one of her old contacts.

Fabricated evidence would never hold its own in court, but the threat of said fabricated evidence tarnishing Harvey Dent’s stellar reputation? Well. That would work. Y/N meant it when she said she would do everything in her power to give Arthur a fair shot at the life he always deserved. And he would never know the lengths she’d go to. Because she didn’t need him in her debt. Y/N just wanted him to have his happily ever after. With whoever and wherever.

-------------------

Lee had not taken the forced separation from Arthur well. It had been a week since they had filed the motion and had gotten it approved. Once news outlets caught wind of it no longer taking place in the city and noting Lee’s absence from the hearing, and general cluelessness about everything that was going on, they had lost their interest in her. She was no longer page one worthy news and judging by the number of times she stopped by the office, shouting and shoving at the security guards, she was not handling it well.

Which is why it was no surprise to her when she received a call from Arkham’s high security wing from a contact, letting her know Lee was currently in a visit with Arthur, despite explicit instructions to the warden to not allow her in.

She was in the area and so she quickly flagged down a cab, cursing up a storm and throwing the driver a few extra bills to entice him to break any laws necessary to get her there as soon as possible.

Once there, she knew exactly who had allowed Lee in, if the terrified expression on his face was anything to go by.

“Sullivan, I swear to God I will sue you and every single one of your fucking descendants if you don’t open this goddamn door.” She seethed, satisfaction filling her as he jumped off of his stool, his fingers clumsily clicking and clacking in his rush.

With a final glare, she stalked into the visiting area as soon as the gate was unlocked. She paused momentarily and gave a final warning over her shoulder, locking eyes with the only one who needed to hear it. “And if you take this out on Arthur, I will know. Remind me, what was your lovely granddaughter’s name again? She’s a second grader now, isn’t she?”

She watched him gulp and nod before she gave him a smile dripping with every ounce of distaste she had for him and continuing her trek.

Instantly, she caught sight of Lee’s back. She also saw Arthur. His lips pursed even if his eyes shouted the love and adoration he felt for her. Her heart melted at the knowledge that he was trying to keep his word and not talk to Lee. Even if she was right in front him and there was likely nothing he wanted more.

“What are you standing there for?” She barked at the guard in the corner. “Get her out of here. She is not an approved visitor, and you know that.”

Arthur’s eyes flew to her face the minute he heard her voice; his eyes wide and pleading, almost as if begging her to believe he had nothing to do with the woman currently in front of him.

Y/N barely had the chance to reassure him before Lee’s hand connected with her face, a sharp smack ringing into the silence of the visitation area.

Her jaw tightened as she brought her hand up to her cheek, her eyes hardening as she wiped away the blood drawn by the ring Lee was wearing.

The silence was cut by Arthur’s shout of Lee’s name and Y/N felt the proverbial butterflies in her stomach at the sight of Arthur’s angry expression directed towards Lee. His eyes, stormy and narrowed as a scowl marred his usually smiling lips; Y/N was ridiculously in love.

“Don’t you get it?!” Lee shouted, struggling against the guards who were dragging her out, “She is trying to keep us apart because the little bitch wants you all to herself!”

Y/N watched as she was finally out of the visitation area, smirking in satisfaction as she hissed after stupidly banging at the iron door keeping her out.

A part of her wanted to stay that way, her back to Arthur as she willed the universe to open up and swallow her whole. She likely would’ve stayed there long after visiting hours were over had she not heard the soft call of her name. Like a moth to a flame, like a sailor falling prey to the siren’s song, Y/N turned and closed the gap between them. As much as she could with the glass in between them, at least.

“Is it true?” Y/N didn’t know if he was asking about whether she was trying to keep them apart on purpose or even worse, about the crush, but answering neither would be of no help.

“I told you from the beginning, everything I do is for your own good. Not because you can’t make decisions on your own, but because I know how things work in these cases and I want to use that knowledge to help you. The power is in your hands, Arthur. You can choose to let me go whenever you like.”

And he could. He could choose to hire someone else. Or worse even, to represent himself. But she didn’t mean it that way and she prayed he hadn’t caught her slip up. Even if it would be good if he did.

Maybe then he could release her from the hold he had on her, a hold he likely didn’t even know about. Maybe then he could stop doing things that were confusing her. Like smiling at her like she was the only person in the world. Or murmuring her name, soft and intimate, like it was made from fragile glass. Maybe then she could get her head out of her ass and behave like the professional she was before she met him. Before she fell for him.

Oh, but sweet, shy, lovely Arthur didn’t catch it. For someone who was as in love with the idea of love as he was, he was quite blind to people who actually cared for him and loved him for him. She hated and loved that about him.

He nodded, his face softening with a smile that lit up her whole world and she cursed him and loved him a little more for it.

--------------------------------

These had been the most agonizing weeks of her life, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine how Arthur had been feeling. Alas, the day was finally here. Today would decide Arthur’s fate.

These last few weeks had been tedious, and Y/N had learned just how high her threshold for hate could go. More than once, she was ready to bash Dent’s head with a chair, that’s how despicable she found him. She didn’t understand how he had built a reputation of a respectable, protector of justice, when he was quite frankly a piece of shit.

Y/N had convinced Maryanne not only to change the venue, but also to move it to a more affluent area. Y/N knew there was nothing rich people loved more than pretending they cared about the little people and with the evidence they had to support Arthur’s not guilty by insanity plea, she knew the rich people who would encompass the jury would be on their side. They would be able to boast about their good deed and feel better about being filthy rich while the rest of the city died.

They wouldn’t be making the wrong call. They had more than sufficient evidence to support their claim, and anybody with half a braincell would agree that Arthur needed help in the form of rehabilitation, not incarceration.

Why then, was it that this pillar of justice was so adamant to lock Arthur up and throw away the key? Almost like he was also just after what convicting Arthur would do for his career. God, Y/N could kill him.

Arthur was a bundle of nerves beside her. She was a tad concerned that he would dislocate a knee with how he was bouncing it. She couldn’t look at him, afraid that he would see how nervous she was as well and that that would set him off, so she simply placed her hand on his knee and squeezed reassuringly.

She heard him inhale to say something, but the jury walked in, the bailiff and judge right after. Her insides origami’d themselves into a gnawing creature as she helped Arthur to his feet and stood as close to him as professionally acceptable.

As the foreman affixed his reading glasses atop his nose and cleared his throat to begin reading the verdict, Y/N sent one last prayer above. This had to go in Arthur’s favor, or she didn’t know how she would live with herself.

“We, the Jury, having carefully considered all the evidence presented in this case, find the defendant, Arthur Fleck, not guilty by reason of insanity.”

Everything else was drowned out in the rush of blood inundating her head and she found herself with an armful of Arthur, his face cradled in the crook of her neck as he cried. She was counting on Maryanne to listen to the rest of the verdict as she clung to Arthur and whispered reassurances in his ear.

------------------------------

“So what now?” Arthur asked, looking so fragile and small as he sat in the corner of the interview room they had been sent to as they made preparations for his transfer. The minute he had been uncuffed and had been able to decide himself where to go, he had picked that corner to retreat to.

Y/N’s heart broke at the realization that this had been the first time in years he had been able to make a decision as simple as this and she had found herself sitting next to him, his hand in hers as she traced soothing patterns on the back of it.

“Maryanne is drafting a document asking the court to take into account the time you have already served. If we are lucky, you’ll only be required the three-month rule in a state institution, and then your life begins. Well, kind of. You’ll be required therapy for the rest of your life, but that is a good thing. I will ensure that whoever sees you now actually cares and helps. I promise,” she finished with a squeeze to his hand, a smile on her face as he breathed out a soft laugh.

“Will you visit?” he murmured after some time, not quite turning to look at her but she could feel his eyes gazing at her from under his eyelashes, as if afraid of her answer.

“As many times as you want me to,” Y/N reassured, slightly distraught at how vehemently she meant that. Fuck, she was stupid in love with a man who saw her as nothing more than a friend.

“Every day,” he beamed. His eyes finally meeting hers and she marveled at the weight that had clearly lifted from his shoulders. His bejeweled emerald eyes shined brightly in the dimly lit room and for a split second, she forgot how to breathe. She didn’t think breathing was as important as not missing a second of the awe-inspiring sight in front of her. The way his chestnut locks framed his face, or the way his thick lashes dusted the thin, purplish skin of his eyelids. He was beautiful and how she wished to be the one to gaze upon him every day. Sadly…

“Have you talked to Lee?”

Her smile tightened and she cleared her throat, hoping to swallow down the distaste. “I called her myself after the verdict but got her answering machine. As soon as she calls back, I will let you know.”

“I think she’s mad. I hope she doesn’t hate me,” he mused sadly, his shoulders slumping forward.

“You did what you had to do for your wellbeing. She loves you, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Y/N consoled, nudging him with her shoulder. “Besides, you can blame me if you want. That way she can’t be mad at you.”

His eyes searched her face until they settled on the new scar on her face, courtesy of Lee. From the corner of her eyes, she saw his free hand nearing her face, but right before he could make contact, she jumped up. Y/N didn’t know if she could come back from knowing what his hands felt like on her face.

“There is another thing we must discuss, Arthur,” she began, hoping she was successfully playing off how flustered being so close to him made her. “Medication. I know you don’t like the way you feel but taking it will likely be a requirement.”

He slumped over once more, an adorable pout taking over his lips and Y/N cursed the heavens for the feelings lighting up sparks within her.

They discussed the topic a bit more, and Y/N died a little when he admitted he was not aware he was allowed to ask to be switched to other medications until they found a good fit for him. He assumed the lifeless, zombie-state was the norm and Y/N’s heart broke a little more for him. He deserved the world and she wanted to be the one to give it him.

Maryanne came in then, a grin on her face as she sat on a chair, beckoning for the other two to do the same.

Y/N obliged and offered Arthur her hand to help him up, then guided him to a chair and took one next to him. He looked at her then, questioning, but all she could do was shrug as she did not know what Maryanne’s grin was about.

Their questioning looks soon turned to astonishment as Maryanne explained how the judge, who happened to regularly play golf with her husband, had agreed that the time Arthur had served should be taken into account. What’s more, he believed one of the ways society could atone for its sins against Arthur was to waive the three month rule and set Arthur free, to the care of a guardian who would assume responsibility for him. He would still be required to attend counseling for the rest of his life, and follow any guidelines his medical team recommended, but that was of course next to nothing compared to being institutionalized.

Y/N’s mouth hung open; she could almost feel her jaw unhinge as she tried to comprehend the feat Maryanne had just accomplished.

“I- I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Her heart, bruised and battered, broke a little more at the sound of his broken whisper and she turned to him, words of comfort on her lips before Maryanne cut her off.

“Sure you do. Y/N is the court-appointed guardian the judge, Dent and I agreed on.” Maryanne said this nonchalantly, but Y/N could hear the smugness on her voice. “By the way Y/N, verify your address with accounting. Due to your new circumstances, we’ll have to ship a PC to your home. I’m thinking you can do three days at home and two in the office? Or as necessary. We’ll figure that out later. For now, we have accommodations to make.”

She then sashayed out of the room, and had it not been for Arthur’s hand on her shoulder, Y/N would’ve sat there frozen for God know how long.

“Is- is that okay? You can say no, Y/N. I don’t want to trouble you.” He said this with a smile, and she knew that even if she refused to house him and this meant he would lose his freedom and go back to being incarcerated, he would truly not hold that against her. God, he was so good. How could anyone ever think about hurting him? When he deserved nothing short of the world?

“And why would I do that, roomie?”

The grin he gave her was like the sun peaking from the horizon on a freezing December morning. Nothing could’ve ever topped it, except for the tight hug he gave her.

-------------------------------------

It had been a couple of months since Arthur had moved in. The first few days were… a learning experience. She tried to accustom herself to having another person living under her roof, a person she had feelings for but could not act on. And Arthur was trying to remember how to be free again. As free as he could be considering the restrictions he had on him.

Y/N’s heart broke every time he forgot where he was and would wait around for the door to be unlocked and opened for him. As he waited for permission he no longer needed to accomplish mundane tasks, Y/N would approach him carefully and softly, as if afraid to shock him, and she’d remind him that he could move as he pleased. She’d remind him that he was home now (God, how she hoped he felt like he was home) and was in charge of his actions.

Without fail, wonder filled his eyes, and he looked around the room, as if taking it in and reminding himself where he was before settling on her face. And then, then he’d steal her breath as he smiled at her, soft and sweet. Oh, how she loved him.

Lee had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. As much as she didn’t want to, for Arthur, she had called in favors to try and find her. To no avail.

Last she heard, her parents had shipped her overseas to distance her from everything she had said and done in front of the cameras, but that was the last they had been able to find about her.

Arthur was of course heartbroken, but he claimed he was at least happy knowing she was safe. It didn’t matter that she no longer loved him and didn’t want to see him.

For her part, Y/N swore that if she ever saw her, she’d rip her face off and keep it as a trophy.

Today was one of the rare days off they had. Arthur had no session today and she had finished her work for the week. After breakfast, she had asked him what he wanted to do for the day and, without missing a beat, he had suggested a walk around the city.

The area Y/N lived in was on the other side from where Arthur grew up. It was decidedly nicer, cleaner and nobody seemed to know or care who Arthur was. Arthur loved going on walks whenever they both had the time, and without fail, he would steal yet another piece of her heart as he marveled at the most mundane things they encountered on their walks.

She recalled the giggle that escaped his lips the first time they had come across a flock of ducks in the park and Y/N could do nothing more but slip into a bodega to purchase frozen peas so Arthur could feed the ducks. Nothing could put a price on the delight lighting up his face.

And so, the plan was the same today. As they walked out of the familiar bodega, hand in hand and frozen peas secured, Y/N marveled at how good of a life she had.

As they made their way to the park, they stopped every few houses and marveled at the Halloween decorations adorning the streets. It was mid-October, her favorite time of the year, and she loved the way the city looked.

As they approached an empty park bench, she turned to Arthur, wanting to point out the ducks to him only to find him already looking at her.

That had been a recent development and she wished she could ask him to stop. She, of course, couldn’t do that. Not without explaining that her heart threatened to leap out of her chest and into his hands whenever he looked at her like that. Not without confessing her feelings to him, which would be incredibly unfair.

He didn’t feel that way and she had no right to take away the only safe place he had ever had. Arthur deserved a good life, he deserved to experience everything that had been denied from him his whole life and she couldn’t rob him of that by telling him about her silly little feelings.

What was she supposed to do when he told her he didn’t feel the same? Even worse was the thought of him feeling pressured to reciprocate out of fear his new world would be yanked from his feet. No. She would never tell him. But God, how she prayed he would stop looking at her like that. How she wished to dig into her chest and rip out her heart, to lock it in a box and shove it somewhere it could never come back from. How she wished not to feel. Just for a bit.

They sat at the park for what was certainly hours. He talked about his sessions and how they had finally settled on a medication that did not make him feel dead. It made him a bit sleepy, he said. But he could think, feel, and eat.

That she could attest to. He often asked for seconds during meals and just last week, when she was coming out of her room for a mid-day break from work, she had encountered a shirtless Arthur coming out of the restroom after a shower. Recovering from the shock, she turned back to her room with a squeak but not before allowing her eyes to roam his shirtless frame. She had noticed how his ribs were no longer protruding, and there was a softness cushioning his belly that was not there before when she had helped him dress for his trial, which seemed like eons ago now.

In turn, she talked about work without going into many details. Confidentiality and all. And she asked about the at-home nurse that would come in whenever Y/N had to go into the office. Arthur had no complaints and he confessed she almost felt like a mother, a proper one. Y/N grabbed his gloved hand and squeezed, a surprised squeak leaving her lips when he pressed his forehead against hers. If her breath hadn’t abandoned her, and her limbs obeyed her, she likely would’ve pushed him away. Instead, she shut her eyes and allowed the tremors to wash down her back and could do nothing but nod dumbly when he suggested they head back.

--------------------------------

The walk back had been quiet. She thought she had done well at not making it awkward despite the silence from her part.

A talk would likely need to happen. If she wanted to hold on to the last bits of her sanity, boundaries would have to be set. Maybe she’d take up Sam’s weekly invitations to go out for drinks after work. Maybe that was what she needed to get over Arthur. Or to at least not go into cardiac arrest over physical contact.

He unlocked the door for them, likely realizing her dazed state and gently guided her inside and on to the couch.

Arthur left her eyesight for a bit, and she figured he had gone into his room. Even as she heard clattering in the kitchen, she didn’t turn to look, too lost in her thoughts.

It wasn’t until he reappeared in front of her, a steaming mug of hot cocoa in hand, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows like he knew she liked, that she broke through her dazed state.

“I thought you were cold, so I made this for you,” he began as he set it on the coffee table in front of her. He then reached around and grabbed the blanket draped over the couch and fluffed it before wrapping it around her. “I shouldn’t have made you stay outside this late. I forgot how cold it gets.”

Like a petulant child, she pulled the blanket over her head with a groan, wanting to lovingly punch his stupid face for making her feel feelings. This was too much for her.

Arthur laughed out a ‘what’s wrong?’ as he attempted to free her from her self-made blanket prison, soft giggles leaving him the more she fought against him.

Knowing she wasn’t going to win this battle, she broke free, furrowing her brows as she looked at the giggling man beside her.

Arthur snorted and reached over to smooth down her hair, his eyes twinkling with amusement, his cheeks flushed and lips curled in a smile.

“Arthur,” she began, grabbing his hands and placing them on his lap before folding hers in front of her chest, as if that was going to protect her heart.

“You know I care for you. And I will always be here for you. But-”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have…” he trailed off. He remained silent for a few seconds before giving himself a reassuring nod. His eyes met Y/N’s briefly before he turned to focus on the long-forgotten mug. “Dr. Sloane recommended I tell you how I feel but- I’m not good with words, Y/N. I hoped my actions could, I don’t know,” he trailed off with a half-hearted shrug.

Y/N, on the other hand, was fighting through the static ringing in her ears as she tried making sense of Arthur’s words.

“How you feel?”

“I’m sorry Y/N. You’re probably just being nice. I knew you didn’t feel the same. But Dr. Sloane said I should try and-”

“Arthur!” she called to him firmly, her hands finding his as she tried to keep him from going down the spiral he currently was. “You have feelings for me?”

Arthur nodded shyly, his eyes on their intertwined hands as he rubbed the tips of his index finger and thumb together, a nervous habit he had picked up now that he was trying to quit smoking.

“You like me? But, Lee?”

“I don’t know if she was real. If what I thought she felt or what I felt for her was real. But you,” at this he smiled, so blindingly bright that for a moment she wondered how he had captured the moonlight in his smile.

“And you haven’t noticed I’ve liked you since day one?” she interrupted him, fighting a smile as his hands stiffened in hers.

Arthur’s head snapped up as his eyes searched hers, trying to decipher whether she was lying or not. She let him look, making sure to let her face and eyes shout about the love for him she had been trying to bottle up for what felt like an eternity.

“How- Y/N, how long?” he whispered, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Since I set foot in that room, shitty joke in my notebook. Since you laughed, so soft and shy and then told me one of yours.”

He made a choking sound and before she could worry about hearing him choke on that laughter that rarely made an appearance now but he still feared, he had closed the distance between them by pulling her into him.

She squeaked and surprised, allowed him to wrap his arms around her. He felt so warm. So safe. So right.

“We’re going to have to talk about this Arthur!” she laughed, succumbing to the kisses being peppered on her face.

“I’m serious, Arthur. We’re going to talk.” Y/N valiantly tried once more, sighing at yet another peck to her nose. Her forehead. And the corner of her lips. God, this man was a fuckin’ tease.

He groaned before cupping her cheeks with his palms, warm and calloused. “We will, later. But can I please kiss you now?”

It was Y/N’s turn to silence him, her lips finding his and her eyes fluttering shut. She didn’t know how the fireworks going off in her stomach had travelled to just behind her eyelids, but as Arthur pressed his lips to hers, urgently yet sweetly, she found she didn’t really care.

In that moment, nothing mattered. Not the road they had travelled to get here. Not where the road would take them tomorrow. All that mattered to her now was how his lips, chapped and warm moved against hers. How his hands felt, one on her back, branding her with his fingertips through her clothes. The other on her cheek, his thumb ghosting over her skin, staking claim to what had long belonged to him.

Nothing mattered but him. Always him. Forever him.

#joker folie a deux #joker: folie à deux #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck fic #arthur fleck fluff #arthur fleck self insert #i have NEVER written 8k for anybody #oh the man you are arthur #excuse any mistakes. very minimal editing was done #kinda proud of this considering its been years since I last wrote for arthur...or at all

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yutarot · 4 months ago

Text

PARADISE FOUND [n.jm]

wc: 7.1k

after your bestfriend, jeno, drags you to a party the night before the biggest day of the summer, you wake up too late to get there on time. but maybe the tide will wait for you - if the tide was in the form of a bleached blond surfer with a hatred for every little thing you do, and a connection that leads you back to eachother; again, and again and again.

WARNINGS: mention of alcohol/being drunk. mention of sex. depiction of near drowning/injury

DISCLAIMER: all events/portrayals of people are fake and from my imagination, in no way am i claiming that they act like this irl

it has been 11 months since you have spoken to him. 11 months of avoiding every lingering attempt of eye contact he has tried to pursue on you. and each and every month has sunk you lower and lower into a state of shock at the initial moment he broke up with you. you were a mess to put it simply.

but summer was coming back around, you would be moved from life-guarding the indoor college pool to the beach and that meant for one thing and one thing only.

you would see him again. you would see yangyang again.

“yn? ynnnnn?” your best friend calls out for you around your dorm. “girl where the fuck are you?”

giselle has been there for you every step of the way during your first year of college, giving you the guidance but also the space you need, you respect her a lot more than you ever tell her. now that you're in your second year, it makes you wonder if you ever should.

“i’m here.” you laugh, grinning at her lousy attempt to find you, tucked away in the bathroom. she walks in, hands covering her eyes in terror as she realises she’s walked in on you ‘dropping the kids off at the pool’ as your brothers friend, mark, likes to call it.

“not a single warning???” the door slams behind her and you cant help but laugh, hearing the faint voice of your other roommate, julie, questioning if giselle is okay.

you love your friends, you really do, each day consumed with laughter and mindfulness. you wouldn’t trade the dynamic you guys share for the world, not even if it meant for you to be happier.

of course you have other friends too, your closest friend jeno, being your most notable, even amongst giselle and julie. but the comfort you feel with the girls allows for you to share your feelings in a different light, even if you are, at times, smothered by darkness.

you head to your morning class, julie at your side. although you’re both very different in personality; julie a sweeter and a quieter version of yourself, you both beam together in studies. being an english literature major meant you were able to put your thoughts into words, whilst she strived to put her words, unspoken, onto paper.

the sun was brighter than usual, an indication towards the beginning of summer.

“i cannot WAIT for this summer.” julie sneered sarcastically.

“come on, everyone seems to love the beach except you. we literally go to a uni, on the beach, surely you should have expected-“

“i came for jaehyun.”

fair enough. you couldn’t argue with that.

jaehyun was jenos cousin, you’d met him many times at jenos christmas parties, their strikingly similar sense of style overwhelmed you at first, but you soon became aware of julie’s little crush on jaehyun, watching as it bloomed into what now is their relationship.

she squealed at the thought of her boyfriend. “6 months on saturday!” holding your hand, she danced around you, you couldn’t help but laugh at her switch in attitude. “ yn im so happy you lead me to him.”

“urg don’t get cheesy on me now, we’re about to read shakespeare in class i dont need to hear it now before i even step foot in the lecture hall.”

huffing, she turns away from you, leading you into the hall. your first class of the summer.

—

your phone buzzes in your pocket. again. again. again. your anger getting the better of you as you roll your eyes, digging into the pocket of your shorts to read the messages.

[jen] where are u?

[jen] will u reply pls

[jen] im bored

your anger subsides - albeit only slightly - at the sight of your bestfriends name as it flashes up on the screen.

[jen] i know you can see these

[jen] your probably watching them come through and laughing at me 😕😕😕😕

you try not to laugh to yourself, the library sounding empty yet being full of people working.

[yn] the library

[yn] dont come here ill meet u

[jen] beach bar?😁

[yn] beach bar.

packing up your things, you head down the library steps and wander your away across the sandy path to the beach. it isn’t a short walk, your entire college campus is practically on the beach itself, causing for horrible windy winters but the most beautiful place to be in summer. this only means that the winter break is extended, with the college staying open in summer to maximise its use of the beach.

you spot the familiar palm-tree umbrellas and the somehow constant reggae music from afar, squinting around the sofa’s for a hint of black hair until you spot him.

sitting down he looks across at you in wonder, brows furrowing.

“damn, didn’t think you’d really come to be honest”

you hold yourself back from slapping him clean in the face.

“what’s that supposed to mean.”

“yanno….” he looks around before leaning forward, somehow whispering yet shouting at the same time, “yangyang works over t h e r e.” he points with obnoxiously large movements towards the surf shop, using not only two hands but his entire body to point in the direction of your ex boyfriend.

you stare at jeno, unamused.

“i’m about to leave if you keep doing that.”

“noooooooooo stayyyyyy” his voice is monotone, sarcastic.

your’s and jenos teasing of one another was your favourite part about your friendship, knowing so much about eachother that you know exactly what makes the other person crack. but there’s also times where a serious tone can easily take over conversation, and you both can become mutual to each others moods quite quickly.

you bury yourself in the sofa, showing that you have no intent on leaving anytime soon which surprises jeno, eyebrows raised.

“i’ll have to get over him at some point.” you shrug, “why not now?”

he grins at that, nodding in pride.

“atta girl.”

you both talk for hours, talking about your assignments, your friend group and getting excited over plans you could make in the upcoming weeks. one of which jeno seems particularly passionate about.

“beach bonfires every night.” he chants and you look up at him in bewilderment.

“jeno you know i hateeeee parties.” you drag out your words so he understands you in definition.

he pulls out his phone, “well too bad, i already made a groupchat with everyone in it. you’re coming yn.”

your eyes tell jeno that your not entirely joking, you’ve never been a big partier, always opting to stay at home whenever the rest of the group invites you to go. but this time, jeno is going to make sure you have fun. this summer will be different.

“why don’t we have one tonight.” he exclaims. “ease you into it.”

your eyes go wide. “you CANNOT be serious. jeno i have work tomorrow and it’s my first beach shift this year. i need to be there for my training.”

“don’t worry, ill make sure you get there, just let loose a little. why not? it’s the start of summer.”

you’re skeptical. but he’s right; it’s the start of summer and there’s no better time to start than now. you can only wish that you’ll enjoy yourself as much as he says you will.

“okay fine. but you can’t leave me.”

“not at all, ill be by your side the entire time.”

you never believe him when he says that, always going off towards the end of the night with some girl wrapped around his arm. but this time, something in the sincerity of his words makes you trust what he’s saying. he’s giving you a chance. a chance to let go of yourself and everything that’s been bothering you for the past 11 months. a chance for you to set off this summer better than the last. a chance for you to find your own paradise.

after jeno rolls out a message to nearly every living organism within a 500 meter radius telling them of a bonfire that night, it dawns upon you that you shouldn’t feel so scared to hang out with your friends. you should feel like jeno, smile plastered on his face as he reads between the lines of his book titled ��math for dummies.’ you’re not entirely sure how jeno got into college to study math in the first place, but how he got to keep his place after failing exam after exam is even more beyond you. but anyhow, he’s at peace with the events of tonight, no wavering wash of anxiety covers his expression quite like yours. jeno notices you sitting there, fingers wrapped around thumbs as you try not to think about the upcoming event. would you see yangyang? would he try and talk to you? what if he has another girlfriend already? i mean it’s been 11 months…

he says nothing of your lack of concentration. mind sucked into his book, probably going into shock at the moment the book starts adding letters.

you and jeno finish up your time at the beach bar as you walk back to your dorms. the boys dorm and the girls dorm at seperate sides of campus, you split with eachother early on. texting giselle, you see who’s home.

[yn] are you in

[yn] ???

[giselle 🫶] yes are u on ur way back?

[yn] yes pls let me in i forgot my key

[giselle🫶] give me a second

after waiting at the door for what seems like an hour, giselle finally lets you in, towel wrapped around her hair.

“how the hell do you forget your key??!” she mumbles between her toothbrush.

making your way to your room, you yell back across the hall in response. “i use a different bag everyday.” you shrug. you open your closet, scanning for an appropriate outfit for tonight when julie’s head pokes around the corner of the doorway.

“no way….” her eyes are wide and you motion for her to be quiet. jeno already made a big deal about you going so you can’t back out, giselle finding out that your going to your first party without yangyang will only cause for noise complains from your neighbours. “no WAY.” but julie continues, herself in shock. your shushing does nothing. “giselle get over here RIGHT NOW.”

you want to sink into the floor, perhaps end up at the dorm below where those people don’t know you. but giselle’s reaction is far different from anything you expect.

“you’re coming to jenos party????” she’s so quiet you feel the urge to throw something at her to get her to speak up. “yn you don’t have to go if it makes you uncomfortable. we know you don’t like par-“

“i want to go.”

no you don’t? you do a double take on your own words as they spill out of your mouth. but you were trying to prove something, not only to jeno and yangyang, but to yourself.

giselle, albeit it somewhat annoyingly, runs up to you with an arm full of different dresses, dresses you would never dream of wearing, all embroidered with flowers and different colours you didn’t even know should be in the same outfit together.

but when your eyes lands on one of the dresses, all of your criticism moves to the side. it was just perfect.

giselle can see you staring at it. “i’ve never worn it. my grandma made it for me.”

you look up at her. desperately trying to give it back. “i can’t wear it.”

“yes you can.” she smiles and you hesitantly take the dress back from her, holding it against your body in the mirror.

your nerves were now becoming excitement.

—

you, giselle and julie get there well after the likes of everyone else. struggling to walk on the sand, you rip your eyes from your feet to look up. jeno was right, you needed this. the sun setting along the line of the ocean, the shadows caused from the bonfire in the middle of the sea of bodies, everyone in their respective friend groups - you felt comfort.

seeing you before you see him, jeno rushes over to you, ditching whatever people he was with prior to watching you walk over. jeno had many friends, yes, but you were his only close one.

“you came!” you scoff in annoyance at the shock in his words, despite telling him you were going to come.

“obviously.”

he pats you on the back leading both you and giselle to the once calm and serene beach bar, now dizzy with lights as well as the reggae music. you presume julie has run off with jaehyun, your theory confirmed when you notice them by the shore, hand in hand.

“let’s get you a drink.” jeno laughs, calling over the bartender and asking for three vodka lemons. you thank him.

giselle rolls her eyes and nods her head in direction of whoever is coming onto the bar decking behind you. you turn around, fear of seeing his face again filling you.

somehow, the actaul face of who was walking in behind you, annoys you even more.

“yn??” your older brother asks.

great.

“jisung..” you smile. laugh even.

“i’m going to kill you.” his eyes find jenos in mock anger as he proceeds to jokingly ready up his fist for a punch. you laugh at their childishness.

when your laughter comes to a halt, you notice the voice of another next to you.

you look up to mark, brows furrowed. “how long have you been standing there??”

he scratches the nape of his neck, “like forever dude.” you huff and giselle laughs. “what brings you here anyways? you never come to these.”

giselle answers mark for you. “she’s bored.”

that’s one way to put it.

“well im glad you are, its nice to have a fresh face around here sometimes. jeno and jisung can be a bit much after a couple drinks.” he teases, jenos face twisting into an exaggerated expression of shock.

after getting your drinks, you all go to sit on the sand, julie and jaehyun beckoning you over. you take your seat between jeno and julie. sat like this, with all your friends, watching the fire wither away in the wind, you feel comfort. you watch as giselle fights with jisung over the remainder of her drink, threatening to push him into the fire if he takes even the slightest sip. you can’t help but smile. jeno notices your ease, nudging you on your shoulder as he talks to you, quietly.

“i’m glad you came.” he smiles. “you’re the only friend i need.”

evidently, jenos words knock a sense of confidence into you. causing you to spend the rest of the night swallowing shot after shot, even indulging in marks beer when he came over after hearing you had tried to run into the sea, wanting to see it for himself now that your brother had gone home.

“you know…w.. i havent seeeen yangyang allllll night. what a loser..hiding….fromme.” you stumble over your words, your lack of experience in drinking causing you to have little control over anything your saying.

jeno, still surprisingly by your side, shares a look of amusement with mark. “i’m going to take her home soon.” he tells him, “keep an eye on her whilst i go grab my stuff?”

mark nods and jeno walks away, causing you, in your drunken state, confusion. “nooo jenooo. don’t leave me with him.” mark tries to quieten you down to try avoid any weird looks but ultimately fails when you blab about wanting him to leave you alone.

“yn, he’ll be back soon okay. just don’t go anywhere, he’ll kill m-“

“who’ll kill you?”

you recognise that voice.

turning around, you squint in the direction the voice came from. tan skin, a mess of dusty pink hair. dusty pink hair? that’s oddly specifi-

oh.

“why do you care?” mark replies, face screwing up in confusion.

“who are you?” the voice asks again.

“you gonna keep asking questions or are you gonna tell me what you want man”

the man’s eyes drift to yours.

yangyang’s eyes drift to yours.

slowly, you try to inch backwards, your only wish for this very moment being to find jeno. “i’m gonna… i’m gonna go….” you whisper, mark looking at you, utterly oblivious to the situation.

“but-“ mark protests but he’s yet again cut off by yangyang.

“if she wants to go, let her”, unaware the he’s the problem and not mark. but you can’t explain that to mark now, you’re already making your way down the beach to find jeno, stumbling in your tracks.

you can hear mark asking around for where you’ve gone, but your mind isn’t clear enough to realise you should go back to him.

you admit defeat, sitting down by yourself. it’s comical how quickly the night shifted once you became aware of yangyangs presence, only hours ago were you basking in the company of your friends. now you sit alone.

—

the next morning, you find yourself on jenos floor.

jenos sitting on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through his phone until he hears you stir. “finally, you’re u- oh shit, that’s not pretty.”

it takes you a few moments to process his words, head feeling heavy and your eyes adjusting to the light of jenos room. he throws you a hoodie, nodding at you to put it on. your brows furrow in question. it’s not cold.

you look down at your dress, no, giselle’s dress, covered in a layer of bright vivid orange.

remnants of last night.

shit.

“no no no no..” you ramble, jumping to your feet to make your way to jenos bathroom, his roommate chenle, giving you a look of disgust as you bolt past him.

“you okay, yn?” jeno calls out, a mix of worry and amusement lacing his tone. this was not a time for amusement. “just change into the hoodie and i can walk you to your dorm in time for work.”

work?

your heart drops in your chest.

you were truly and utterly fucked.

the walk to your dorm resembled more to that of a sprint, jeno struggling to keep up with your pace.

“how the hell do you walk so fast.” he pants, “i literally cannot feel my legs.”

you feign sympathy at him before speeding up even more. you have to get to work this morning, you couldn’t lose the chance to uptake a lifeguard position at the beach. the pool has been anything but miserable.

after thanking jeno for his, in his terms, ‘chivalry’, you quickly rush to find your uniform. you pick up the red tankini, throwing on some shorts and a cap to keep yourself covered on your way to the beach. luckily, you find giselle asleep on her bed, throwing the dress in your laundry basket to wash when you get back. julie is nowhere to be seen, most likely having stayed round jaehyuns for the night.

brushing your teeth and drenching yourself in julie’s perfume as a desperate attempt to smell atleast a little less of puke, you bolt out the door.

it has been 10 minutes since training started.

when you get to the beach, it has been 18 minutes.

when you put your stuff in your locker and clock in, it has been 20 minutes.

the moment you get to the group in training, it has been 33.

you plead with the instructor - who’s name was johnny according to his badge reading ‘ncu senior. johnny suh’ - in hopes that he’ll let you stay.

“nope. no can do.” he doesn’t even look at you, too busy watching the 9 other lifeguards in training, swimming out to various buoys out in the water.

“but please i can stay behind after so i can-“

“i said no. it’s not in my paycheck to accommodate extra time for those who are late. if you miss the beach briefing, then you’re at the pool. it’s the same every year.” he shrugs, pulling his cap up to push his hair back before placing it back on his head. “not my problem.”

you couldn’t believe it, you were going to kill lee jeno if it was the last thing you do. you can’t even remember last night, and now its still haunting you into the next day. you cannot imagine it getting any worse.

that was until you hear a scream from one of the lifeguards in the distance.

you look over to johnny, expecting him to leap from his high-chair on the sand and run into the water, but he’s gone, chatting up some woman on the other side of the sunbeds.

a child next to you begins talking to you. no, yelling at you.

“hey! you’re a lifeguard too! help, my sisters hurt!”

the other lifeguards are too far to hear the scream. you curse johnny for not making them go by groups, and you curse yourself for not wearing a tshirt over your bright red tankini top, spelling out the words ‘lifeguard’ in bold white capitals.

after assessing the situation, you figure that you have no choice but to run into the water, swimming after the waving arm of one of the trainee lifeguards about 20 meters from the shore, a red lifeguard float from johnnys chair in your hand. unaware of if she was just out of her depth or in pain, you push the float under her arms, dragging her with you back to the sand.

she’s limping, so you attempt to hold her weight with the side of your body as you pull her from the final stretch of water and onto the sand. as you place her to sit down, she thanks you and you offer her a fresh towel from johnnys bench, asking her if she’s okay. johnny eventually comes running over at the sight of your situation.

“it’s a sprained ankle.” you tell him, “must have got her foot caught on a rock under the water.”

he nods before calling over two other trainees to take her to the first aid hut, the girls’ brother helplessly following behind her in tears.

johnny stands with you, arms crossed as he finally looks at you. “i suppose we’re a lifeguard short now.”

you try to hold back your smile, realising what this means.

“you’ll need to do the training so i’ll make one of the stronger swimmers of the lifeguard trainees today give you your induction. think yourself lucky.” and with that, he walks off. you could cry at the amount of luck you were feeling in this moment; finally something today had gone right. “well don’t just stand there, come with me.”

you quickly run after him. “right, sorry.”

johnny laughs to himself in response, but he’s quick to try and hide it. you make a note to yourself that you must somehow be on the seniors good side.

when you reach the steps to the closest lifeguard tower, johnny brings you to the desk where he hands you a form.

“sign here and here, i’ll go grab him. he should be up in 10.”

he?

all sorts of names rush through your head. you couldn’t exactly see the faces of which lifeguards were training as they were out in the water, but you weren’t friends with any of the male lifeguards from the pool.

you sit in johnnys chair, silently observing the view out onto the beach, spreading for miles and miles, white sand meets turquoise water, occupying a plethora of - mainly ncu students - but some families too. the college spreads itself on the other side, almost parallel to the stretch of the beach. you wouldn’t wish you were anywhere else.

a knock at the tower door wakes you from your daydream.

you stand up. “come in.”

expecting someone familiar to walk through the door, you’re surprised to find yourself face to face with a man you have never seen before in your entire year at the job.

although you didn’t get into beach guarding last year, everyone had to guard a pool in the winter, switching posts multiple times a day and meaning you’d met everyone in the job. but this man was entirely unknown to you. and if you were being perfectly honest, he did not have a face that you would forget easily. you had to admit, his bleached hair made you a little awestricken. you’d never seen someone suit such a bold style before.

anyhow, you don’t understand how he’s already qualified for the specialised training, general training is multiple weeks and today is the first day of the semester.

he notices your confusion, but says nothing to ease your mind.

“im jaemin. hi.” he walks past you.

past you.

it’s as if you weren’t even there. he sits down, putting his feet up on the desk.

“um… yn.” you reply with a nod. “so uh, you’re training me?”

“i think so, that johnny guy didn’t say much, said something about me being able to surf means i can swim.”

a surfer? great. so not only do you have the new guy doing your induction, but even he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

after asking him what’s first on the list that johnny handed him with the form, he takes you out onto the beach with a stopwatch and johnnys clipboard, reading off the first tick box.

“the first one is..” he says whilst scanning his eyes across the page in attempts to find the first requirement. “ah right, a swim to the 25 meter buoy in 50 seconds.”

you look at him in shock, he’s starting with the short distance one?

“are you messing with me.” you ask, “i’m doing the 25 meter first?”

“yup.” he laughs, “unless… you don’t want to be a lifeguard anymore.”

unbelievable. actually fucking unbelievable; not only is this newbie doing your induction, but now he’s threatening you. you were wrong, your day could and definitely did get worse.

throwing a middle finger in his direction up on the lifeguard chair, which earns you a laugh from him in response, you run into the water, diving once it reaches your thighs. you get flashbacks of the save you just did, imagining that the buoy infront of you is actually a person yelling for your help (morbid, but it works.) your arms ache, your legs ache, your body aches but you keep going, lapping around the buoy until you find your way back onto the shore.

you’re panting as you make your way back to jaemin, who climbs down the chair, pencil in his mouth as he tries not to fall.

he walks over to you. “43 seconds. not bad.”

not bad????

you wish you could punch him. one day you will.

“whatever, barbie.” you sneer back passively, his face contorting into an expression of shock, mouth hung wide open. but you can tell he’s trying not to let out a laugh.

you go through each tick box, continuing with the 200 meter swim and then the 200 meter beach run which, indoubtedly, makes you feel a little stupid. but you pass all the tests with ease, much to jaemins surprise.

if it wasn’t for the fact that he was new and annoyingly arrogant, you would probably have been friends with him, he seems funny enough.

as jaemin was ticking off the final box, johnny returns.

“how’d she do?” he turns to jaemin, who’s smug face tells you everything you need to know. he’s about to lie.

“i passed.” you butt in; you were on johnnys good side already, a joke about failing would have immediately ruined that. jaemin squints in your direction and you can only smile back in arrogance.

johnny pats you on the back, “good job. you guys are both done for the day, check your emails in the next few hours for your schedule.” he turns to walk away before stopping himself and turning back around, “and, thanks jaemin. i owe you one. ” he turns for real this time, back slowly shrinking as he walks up towards ncu.

“well, i better be off then.” jaemin quickly remarks, giving you little to no time to tell him a quick “bye” before he, too, is walking back to campus.

you wonder to yourself if you’ll ever see him again, and if, for some reason, you would even mind his company.

but you brush off that thought as quickly as it came.

—

when you get back to the dorm. giselle is waiting.

“hey yn.” she smiles.

suspicious, she never says hey when you get in.

oh.

the dress.

“look, giselle, im so sorry.. i woke up at jenos and by the time i got back it was already 10am and then i-“

“i bought you some more!” she squeals. now, you are really confused.

your brow flips in confusion, “but i ruined your dress..”

“exactly! i got some more for you.”

you actually couldn’t believe your ears, unable to think of what to say.

until you realise exactly why she’s not mad.

because its an excuse for her to buy you dresses. dresses to go to parties wearing; parties that you will NOT be partaking in.

“oh i don’t think so.” you shake your head, giselle running up to you excitedly. “i’ve barely even recovered from last night, and today wasn't exactly relaxing either.”

“oh come on yn, it’s not gonna a big one like last night, we’re just going round jaehyuns frat for a few hours. you don’t have to drink!”

it sounds appealing, it really does. despite the fact that you can’t remember much about last night, you do remember enjoying yourself. but the idea of spending hours if not the entire rest of the night socialising after swimming and running down a beach all day in the sun, removed any sort of energy you had remaining.

“please yn, just one night.” she’s nearly sobbing at this point.

after multiple attempts at begging you to go throughout the evening, giselle and julie finally convince you to come. if anything just to reduce their insistent pressure on you to change your mind. it got so bad to the point where, as you were trying to make your dinner, giselle kept turning the oven off whenever you weren’t looking. you nearly slapped her out of irritation.

giselle gives you one of the dresses to wear, and the three of you make your way to the frat that jaehyun was in.

you aren’t familiar with many of jaehyuns friends, let alone any of them in his frat, so you were relying on both the girls, and jeno, being jaehyuns cousin, to keep you company.

as you arrive, you’re shocked to discover how loud the music blares from the outside, booming along the sand which surrounds the path that stretches to the front of the house.

jeno greets you at the door. nodding at both giselle and julie in acknowledgment, his face yet again contorts into shock when he notices you with them.

“why didn’t you tell me you were coming!” he yells over the music, leaning into you so you can hear him.

you follow him deeper into the crowd of people. ‘it’s not a big one like last night’ my ass. if anything, there was more people.

“i didn’t even know i was coming myself until an hour ago.” you reply, jeno squeezing your arm in response to let you know you’re safe.

“well you can rest assured that yangyang isn't here tonight. he won’t try and confront you again.”

what?

oh.

you remember now.

you remember everything: trying to run into the ocean, yangyang coming up to you with a clueless mark by your side, walking off alone.. jeno must have found you after that.

“oh shit, i totally forgot that even happened.” you laugh, jenos face responding with a look of concern.

“really? you were that drunk?”

“i guess so.” you laugh again, even though deep down, you’re panicking. “did you fill mark in? i feel bad he didn’t know who yangyang was and i sort of just ran away.”

jeno, for some reason, finds this hilarious, hanging his head back as he tries not to spill his drink from laughing too much. “yes,” he slows his laughter but it’s still continuing as he talks. “he got so worried thinking that you hated him.”

“oh my god…” you’re embarrassed to say the least, but atleast jeno had explained to him who yangyang was.

you look around for giselle, wondering where she’d ran off too before jeno snaps you out of it. “i think she went off with chenle.” chenle? you’re not one to judge when it comes to your bestfriends taste in men, but you’ve heard giselle talk about how much she hates that man, so you can only say you’re surprised. but you brush it off.

leaving yours and jenos own little bubble, you continue to look around the room, the lack of familiar faces causing you to feel a little uneasy. you see julie and jaehyun in the corner, like usual, but you don’t want to interfere with whatever they seem to be doing. jeno can tell you feel uncomfortable, taking your arm and leading you to another area of the house, still packed with people.

“i want you to meet someone.” he says. you can tell he’s been thinking about introducing you to this mysterious someone ever since you started talking, his mind seemingly a little less focused than usual.

but when you realise who the someone is that he is referring to, you start to wish that you had just listened to your gut and stayed at home.

“this is yn.” jeno starts, pointing at you, unmoving in your stance.

“hi.” the someone replies

his hand goes out to shake yours.

“i’m jaemin.”

—

you want to sink into the floor and never come back to reality.

your mind whirls with confusion and horror as you look at the person infront of you, no longer in his white tank and red shorts, hair no longer a blond mess of sand and sea salt, his hand extended towards you and a knowing smirk cascading across his lips.

he was having so much fun.

“ouch,” he sucks in a breath, feigning pain, “haven’t even known you 30 seconds and already been rejected.” he says, the irony in his words making you want to run out of the party and go back home. he’s pretending not to know you.

you turn to jeno, hoping he would see your distaste in his friend, but he’s laughing.

the one person you would hope to be of comfort to you. and he’s laughing.

you give in, shaking his hand and faking a smile which you know he picks up on. “nice to meet you.” you say. words feeling sour and dry in your mouth.

his grin widens.

jeno pats his hand on both your backs. “jaemin’s just moved here from LA, i went to school with him before he left.”

so that’s the mysterious best friend from jenos childhood, the bestfriend who jeno constantly speaks about, wishing he could meet him again. and here he is, the very same man who has taunted your mind since you left the beach earlier today.

“LA?” you give him a look of shock, this time a real one. no wonder you hadn’t seen his face before, he was in an entirely different country. “i’m guessing you got your lifeguard qualification over there then.” you ask out of both genuine curiosity and stupidity; revealing to jeno that you’d met him at the lifeguard training earlier today.

jeno looks surprised, turning to jaemin. “you didn’t tell me you were applying to that.”

jaemin shrugs. “might as well, need the money.”

“yeah especially after you spent it all on-“ jenos words are interrupted, jaemin holding a hand over his mouth to shut him up and leading them both into a fit of laughter.

you stay stood there, unsure of what to do but to look at your feet. you would never believe you could feel left out in jeno’s presence, he always made sure you were okay.

but he isn’t right now.

jeno and jaemin are still laughing about something you don’t understand and you consider turning around and trying to find julie. but you figure you would rather third wheel two old bestfriends than a overly-affectionate couple, so you stay.

“…and then she told me she faked the entire thing!” jaemin says, jeno laughing and slapping the former on the shoulder repeatedly as they both share memories and jokes that you don’t feel you should be part of.

you feel awkward.

“i’m gonna go.” you say, too quiet for either of them to understand but loud enough for them to hear you.

“what?” it’s jeno that leans down to hear what you have to say, but jaemin speaks up before you can repeat yourself.

“she wants to leave.” he says to jeno.

he didn’t hear what you had said, but considering he’s been watching you in his peripheral for the past 5 minutes, he figures from your awkwardness you wouldn’t want to stay much longer.

jeno raises an eyebrow at jaemins words. “but why?” he asks you. you don’t want to have to explain to him that you feel left out, so you tell him you’re not feeling too well.

walking you to the door, jaemin behind you, jeno holds your shoulders before fixing a stray hair at the top of your head. “are you sure you’re okay to walk home by yourself?”

you nod but he doesn’t believe you, you’ve never liked walking in the dark.

“yo jeno.” jaehyun calls to him from the living room, “someone called big papi ‘pink heart emoji, winking emoji’ is calling you!”

jeno rolls his eyes before yelling, “DON’T ANSWER THAT ITS HAECHAN.” panicking, he asks jaemin to make sure you get home safely before running off in jaehyuns direction.

you begin walking through the door and out to the porch, there is no way in hell you were about to let jaemin walk you home. you know jeno has had a few drinks, but he must really trust jaemin if he can run off and leave you with him.

but that doesn’t mean you have to.

after walking for around 30 seconds, you feel a presence behind you. turning, you see jaemin trailing behind you, falling beside you once you slow down to face him.

“what?” he asks, “jeno asked me to, i can’t just leave you.”

you roll your eyes. “i’m fine to walk by myself, just have a headache, that’s all.”

“so it has nothing to do with you standing in that party desperate to leave the moment you saw me.”

his words render you speechless. not because anything he had said shocked you, but because he’s completely and utterly right.

he continues. “you and jeno seem close.”

“he’s my bestfriend.” you say, and he looks at you from the corner of his eye.

“have you guys ever…” he’s smirking and it takes you a few moments to realise what he’s implying.

“no! god, no, absolutely not!” you retort, and he laughs.

“i met with him the day after i came back, would not shut up about you. would never have guessed the rude girl i had to induct at the beach was the girl he spoke so sweetly about.”

you were taken aback, not only did he just straight up insult you, but him bringing up jeno made a part of your chest sting. jeno had met with him days ago and hadn’t told you about him until today?

jeno never hid anything from you, and it makes you wonder why he had held off telling you about jaemin.

jaemin isn’t alarmed by your silence, only continuing to talk to you. but the next question he asks you pulls you from your thoughts.

“you don’t like me, do you?”

you look up at him, unsure of what to say, attempting not to fall over your feet as you try to match his walking pace.

“ive only just met you.” you respond.

“and yet you don’t like me. i’m not an idiot, yn, i see the way you look at everyone else compared to the way you look at me.”

you feel caught. in all honesty, you haven’t thought about it. you haven’t known jaemin long enough to form an opinion on him. but after tonight, you fear that he may be right.

you hate the fact that jaemin can read you so well. ever since you arrived at the party, he’s been able to pick up every little part of you that seems even the tiniest bit out of place and you hate it. you’ve never felt this seen.

“i don’t hate you.” you tell jaemin and he sighs. he smiles in annoyance, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in attempt to stop himself from saying something he’d regret.

“but you don’t like me.” he instead replies.

“i don’t know you.”

you’re starting to get a little angry, going round and round in circles. but his reaction to your words differ from yours.

“so get to know me then.”

this time, you stop walking.

when he notices that you’ve stopped, he asks you again. “get to know me.”

your eyes, originally dropped to the floor, look up to his and you sigh. “i don’t think im going to have a choice.”

his head cocks to the side and you remind him of jeno and his crippling party addiction, jaemin laughs.

as you begin to walk again, you wonder why you have these feelings of hate towards a man you met today but nothing rational in your mind confirms it.

when you get to the outside of your dorm building, you turn to jaemin. “thank you for walking me back.”

“get some sleep.” he nods to you as you give him a small smile, his hands in his pockets. “and yn,” you turn quickly to face him, “for the record, i don’t like you either.” he pauses. “goodnight.”

what a way to end your night.

(a/n: tysm for reading !! i’ve had so much fun writing this and i appreciate every single one of you who interact with and enjoy the stuff i write as much as i enjoy writing it ♡)

@therealbobbyshloby @nanaxwi @flwrs4marklee @injunnie-lemon @gyub1nn13 @p-d1ddy @cyjzzl (a few have been removed if tags don’t work)

#nct #nct dream #nct fanfic #nct college au #jaemin nct #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #jaemin fanfic #na jaemin #jaemin #nct x reader #jeno nct #lee jeno #jeno #nct jeno #nct imagines #nct u #nct fluff

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lokisprettygirl · 11 months ago

Text

Deadly Locks (Detective! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Au) (Dark )

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Summary: After five years of being together you broke up with Daemon for your own good but the link between you two stayed connected. As the City of Belfast is terrorized by a killer on the loose would your life intertwine with your old flame again or the case would only drift you further away from him?

Warning: 18+ , smut, It's a crime thriller so there would be some squeamish dark stuff, read at your own discretion, mention of rape, assault and murder, Speeding and driving under the influence, Reader has long hair, Daemon's hair is up for imagination

Daemon was tired, he hadn't slept in three days, he was running on caffeine and on top of it his mother kept calling him all day long because she was worried about him. Tired was an understatement. He was exhausted in every possible way.

“Good night sir” his protege Jake said to him before leaving to which he responded with a nod and a grunted sigh. The amount of paperwork on his desk only made him feel worse. He loved his job, he loved being on the field and solving crimes all day long but he hated the administrative work that came with it.

As he slumped down in his chair he cracked his neck side to side to relieve some of the tension he was feeling but it was in vain.

11:59. He looked at the time and sighed again, as the clock hit 12 he was reminded of the day. It was your birthday, he wasn't sure if he wanted to call you today, you had broken his heart on the very same day two years ago.

You had called him on his birthday a few months ago but the last time he had seen you was at Torres’s birthday party, the only mutual friend between you both. It's been six months since he had seen you last and it's been two years since you had crushed his heart beneath your heels and ruined his life but you both had stayed in touch. Perhaps he'd give you a call tomorrow, he didn't want to come across as desperate by calling you right at twelve am.

He went through the files on his desk, his focus set on the case that was demanding all of his attention these days. It was about a serial killer who abducted, raped, and murdered multiple women in a chilling and unique manner. The case had stirred up a media frenzy in Belfast, bringing him the biggest and most challenging case of his career so far. He poured all of his energy and expertise into the case, knowing that a successful resolution would earn him that much needed promotion he had been working towards.

Serial killers were known for their signature patterns and this one followed suit. His targets were women in their early thirties, and he often stalked them in secluded areas before attacking them. But instead of choosing them at random, he took the time to learn their routines and kidnapped them only when the opportunity presented itself. Each crime scene was marked by a signature, he left a lock of their hair behind on the exact spot he had abducted them. Long luscious locks of hair, all of these women had that similarity with each other.

The media gave him the name 'The Barber Killer' which Daemon despised. Doing so only gave them more notoriety and motivation to continue. The killer always made sure their bodies were found, the women were scalped for their hair and stripped of their skin, teeth were also extracted. It was a horrific gruesome sight but this is what he had wanted to do all his life, not witness such inhumanity but put criminals like him behind the bars where they should be..

Seven years ago he was merely a traffic police officer, that's exactly how he had the fortune of meeting you.

Speeding, you were speeding and you were being very reckless. As you were tailed by him and asked to pull over he saw this young woman in her early to mid twenties.

“Do you have any idea how fast you were driving in a low speed zone?”

Daemon leaned down to get a look at you and you gave him a smile

“Yes I'm sorry?”

Sweet voice he thought.

“Can I see your driver's license and MOT mam?” he asked you so you hurriedly went through the glove compartment. As you gave the documents to him you couldn't help but take a moment to get a good look at him. With his striking eyes and full hair, it was easy to see why you found him so attractive. He had a calm but confident demeanor that only added to his charm. You couldn't help but wonder what he was like in person.

“So ummm Officer Daemon does that whole 'flirting with the officer to not get a ticket' thing works on you?” You asked him and he gave you a side smile as he looked you in the eye, you must have read his name on the batch.

“Doesn't work on me..your MOT is expiring in a week”

“I'll get it done i promise..I'm sorry I just really have to be at my sister's wedding or I'll be murdered and they'll probably call you to investigate my case so please can I go?” you mumbled with an urgency in your voice

“Not without a ticket.. besides I'm just a traffic officer, not a detective"

"Well..not yet"

You winked at him in a playful manner and he quickly tore the citation from the ticket book and handed it to you.

“I'd say it was nice to see you but you just cost me hundred pounds so no”

“Well I'm not going to change the law for you mam, speeding is dangerous not just for you but others as well”

“I know..I don't normally do that you know..I'm just really in a rush” you tried to explain yourself and he could tell that you weren't really the type to get caught like this.

“You can go now…drive safely.. and congratulations to your sister” you gave him a smile that took his breath away for a moment. It wasn't like him to be so affected by a woman like this, after the rough childhood and even worse adolescence, he was always focused on wanting to do something in life, dating and finding love wasn't the top of his priorities so this really came as a surprise to him..

“Goodbye officer Daemon”

You weren't the first woman he had busted for speeding but you surely were the only one he followed for a bit to see if you were driving safely or not. That should have been the end of your interaction with him but it wasn't.

Two weeks later he caught another vehicle driving under the influence and you were in the passenger seat this time, your friend Donna was the one driving the car. You had later told him that seeing him again was nerve wracking as you didn't want him to think of you as some reckless idiot but you were also excited to bump into him again.

As soon as Daemon approached her side of the window she batted her eyelashes at him which only annoyed him further.

“Wow look at you .. aren't you handsome officer Daemon?” She giggled as she tried to trick him with flirting and the annoyed look on his face made you smile, however you puckered your lips as he turned his attention to you.

“Id and driver's license mam” he said to her while his eyes were on you so Donna rummaged through her compartment and passed it to him.

“Please don't fine me .. it's her birthday, we just got a little excited” he shook his head in disbelief at the excuse and made her take a breathalyzer test which she obviously failed.

“Can I talk to you, miss?” He asked you so you looked at Donna and she gave you the eyes,

“I tried to seduce him” she mumbled as she leaned into you

“Yeah, how embarrassing for you” .

You opened your door and stepped out of the car, as Daemon saw you in your silver little dress he knew you both were returning from a club or something, not that he'd know anything about that. His social life was non-existent.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” his brows furrowed in anger as he spoke to you so you leaned your body against the hood of the car.

“I wasn't driving” you answered shamelessly.

“But your friend is drunk, do you understand the repercussions of your actions?” He asked you but you didn't respond so he cleared his throat and you finally looked in his eyes as prior to when you were audaciously staring at his lips.

“I'm sorry, it's just really really hard to focus on what you're saying. Your lips are very distracting when you're speaking with such ...passion”

He opened his mouth to give a sly retort but he was warm and flushed by the remark, he wasn't used to being flirted this way, not in a genuine way. He wasn't the prettiest guy as he had been told time and again so he was always a bit weird around women, especially women as attractive as you.

“Do you wanna go out with me ..Someday?” He asked you and the smile on your face indicated that you didn't mind.

“What about now? It's my birthday..you can buy me a drink or i can do the favour officer”

“My shift ends at 11”

“Then here's my number” you grabbed the pen from his fingers and then you grabbed his hand to write your digits on his palm, he was glad his partner wasn't around today to witness this, his breath hitched as you grabbed onto his fingers and etched every digit in clear numbers slowly.

“I'll wait for your call officer”

That's how he had found the woman he fell madly in love with, it just clicked, everything made sense with you but perhaps he wasn't what you really needed.

He slumped back in his chair, trying to get rid of the personal feelings he had at the moment, two years, it's been two years, he should have moved on.

Around 4:45 am as he finally got done with the paperwork he decided to go home and get his sleep but he wasn't able to sleep, he kept thinking about giving you a call but he didn't. It was 5 in the morning, you must be asleep he thought.

In the afternoon he woke up to his phone ringing constantly, it was Jake. He had requested him to come to the precinct immediately as another woman had been kidnapped in the barber killer case, he almost didn't want to get out of bed but he had to.

“Update me mate” he asked Jake as soon as he entered the station but the way Jake looked at him made him feel uneasy.

“You might want to sit down for this”

“Why?”

“He got her”

His skin went pale as he heard that.

“What?”

“Y/n..uhhh your ex..the girl in the picture which you keep in the drawer.. around 5 am in the morning she was on her morning run and she didn't return, her friends and family were trying to call her since it's her –”

“Birthday” Jake nodded as Daemon said that. He was really nervous giving this information to his boss.

He turned around to face away from Jake and braced himself against the desk to control his breathing, he couldn't freak out, he had to stay calm and he had to look for you, he had to find you. He stood there, taking slow deep breaths, fighting to keep his composure, at least he had to do so to not lash at the young nervous trainee next to him.

“Should have called her”

“Did you say something?” Jake cleared his throat as he noticed daemon mumbling under his breath.

“No i..just..let's go”

“She fits the profile sir..”

“What's the report on her cell?”

Daemon asked as they stepped out of the station to go visit the site you had disappeared from

“Phone is switched off, the last person who called her was some guy named Pierce–”

“Bring him in for the enquiry”

“Yes sir” Daemon halted for a moment to turn to Jake.

“Stop hovering over me”

“Sorry, are you alright sir?”

“Yeah I am fine…”

“He takes his time with them..i'm sure she's not–”

“I know mate ..I'm on the case” he sighed as he tried to calm down again “Look just focus on the job, there can't be another one, we need to get this maniac before he kills--" Daemon paused for a moment to finish his words "Somebody else”

As soon as he got inside his car and drove away from the station he chose a secluded spot to pull over and then he allowed himself to cry, a part of him felt guilty.

He thought back to last night, his mind couldn't stop coming up with scenarios where his decision to not call you had affected the outcome of the situation, maybe if he had called at night you'd have invited him over like you did last year, and maybe you'd still be here, safe and around him and not in some deranged psychopath’s lair.

Or if he had called in the morning perhaps you'd have changed your mind about running today, perhaps he could have done something to cause a ripple effect, but then he remembered that this wasn't some random abduction, if you were taken by the barber killer, it only meant that he was keeping an eye on you from a long time.

Once he was done feeling sorry for himself he went to your house and followed the track, cops had done their thing but he wanted to be meticulous, this wasn't just a job for him anymore, this had become personal, he found the lock of your long hair that cops had missed, his eyes welled up thinking about the times he had spent his nights running his fingers through your hair. .

He knew he had to find you before it would be too late.

“We are not getting back together –” he chuckled as you said that to him even though you knew his heart must have broke all over again at the sound of your voice.

��I know –’ he caressed your cheek with the back of his index finger and you leaned into his touch almost immediately.

“I just don't want you to misunderstand this invitation”

“I won't–”

You pulled him closer to you by grabbing his collar, you had missed him, it's been exactly a year since you had left him and broke both of your hearts but every part of you still loved him. Time heals all wounds you had heard then why were you still hooked on him? You found yourself thinking about him, dreaming about him - even though you knew it was wrong. You tried to tell yourself that you would eventually move on. But in that moment, you were reminded of just how much you needed him in your life, however you also remembered all the times he wasn't there for you when you needed him..

“I don't want to hurt you more than I already have -” you pulled away to whisper against his mouth but he pressed his thumb over your lips.

“You can't hurt me more than that..trust me”

He picked you up in his arms and pressed you against the wall, clothes didn't even come off your bodies , it wasn't needed, all you needed was his cock slipping in and out of you, nobody fucked you the way he did, nobody compared to him. It didn't take him long to make you crumble in his arms, he had no idea that you hadn't touched anyone since him, you broke his heart but your heart and body still stayed loyal to him, five years, you had been with that man for five years and you wanted fifty more but he brought you equal amounts of pain as he brought happiness.

“Happy birthday my scrappy girl”

You opened your eyes to a figure looming over you but your screams were muffled by the duct tape. You pushed and struggled against your bindings, but it was all in vain. Memories of the past flooded back to you, filling your mind with regret and longing.

If you knew someday in life you'd end up bound and helpless in a dungeon perhaps you'd have made different choices. Perhaps you wouldn't have broken the heart of the man you loved so deeply.

“Oh no you're all banged up, can't have that now can we? My son is rather brutish. I must say” you heard a woman's voice but you couldn't really see her in the dark. Her accent was thick and the perfume was strong.

You struggled again as she picked you up and made you sit down on a chair. What the hell was going on here? You didn't understand. Fear was all you felt in that moment, well that and regret.

He didn't even call you this year, was he ever going to call you again? You had no idea and maybe you'd not live the day to figure it out.

As the duct tape was ripped off your mouth you took a deep breath and then you screamed, wasn't really the wisest decision on your part because that earned you a sharp slap and then you felt a needle pricking your arm which immediately made you feel drowsy. The woman then walked away to leave the room, and when she opened the door you could see that she had long hair and that she was wearing a full length dress. You also heard another woman screaming. Were there others here?

The last thing you remembered was the entrance of a man into the room just before you passed out.

🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠

Young Daemon looked like this

Taglist @daddylokisqueen

#daemon targaryen #modern daemon targaryen #non canon au #tw kidnapping #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader angst #dark themes #modern day au

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