#i grew up drinking in and out milkshakes and going to black bear diner and looking at the palm trees and living in cities

[rainbows-caught-on-film]

I miss California...

[firefly-in-darkness]

Go For Broke

Pairing → Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Characters → Brief mentions of Knives Out characters (maybe?)

Summary → A little bet has big consequences.

Word Count → 2.7k

Warnings → 18+, Swearing, Smut, Angst

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Prompts → Bee's 7K of the Week Challenge; Monday - Ransom Drysdale, Tuesday - Smangst, Friday - Work Function, Saturday - The Dating Bet, (a blink of a praise kink for Sunday).

AFG2021 Square Fill→ "I said 'be sexy', not be a fucking blowfish" @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/N → As I mentioned above, this is for @negans-lucille-tblr writing challenge - congrats on 7k baby!! (I even kept it under 3k for you it wasn't going to be!) This is my first time writing for Ransom, and it doesn't have any connection to Knives Out, it's an AU.

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

Firefly’s Masterlist

You carried two steaming mugs of coffee and nudged the ajar door open with your foot to Ransom’s office. He had leant back on the large leather chair and was taking in the views through the floor to ceiling windows.

He spun round in his chair and you were hit with the scent of his cologne, it had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. His legs parted wide, and the sight was something to behold; the thickness of his thighs and the way his large hand rubbed the top of one.

It was never going to happen between you two. He was Ransom Drysdale, a well-known playboy and skirt chaser. And you, you were his assistant.

He wasn’t the type of man you were after. You wanted someone permanent, someone, that wasn’t just a fuck buddy. But at least you got a little something for the spank bank every now and then.

“Like what you see?” You were caught red-handed by his crystal blue eyes and the lopsided smirk that you adored.

You brought the iPad in front of him to life, “This is your schedule for today. Harlan said that he’s rescheduled the board meeting with Walt to next week so we can relax a little bit. Said there was something to do with taking a risk or gamble?”

Ransom’s head snapped up, and his tongue darted out across his lip, a nervous tick that you’d long ago discovered. You felt a warmth bloom at your core and tried to hide the way your thighs nestled together to ease the growing heat.

Ransom scooted backwards in his chair and announced, “I need to get out of here.”

“You’ve just arrived, you can’t play hooky, you’re the boss.” You protested.

“That’s exactly why I can,” Ransom asserted and pulled his coat back on. “Let’s get lunch at that diner we went to last month. It’s quiet and nobody knows me there.”

You had become used to the whirlwind that Ransom brought with him the second he entered a room, but this was different. He seemed on edge rather than angry and you weren’t sure what had happened in the ten minutes you were away making a coffee.

“But I just made us coffee.” You pouted at him; he knew that you needed that delicious nectar.

“I’m buying lunch now get your coat,” Ransom demanded.

You rolled your eyes and did what you were told, much to your chagrin.

Ransom had driven like a mad man in his classic beamer to get you to Ruby’s Diner in record time. You scolded him once or twice when he just missed the red lights. But he didn’t seem to relax like he usually did when he entered.

All was forgiven when the waitress placed two steaming plates of burgers and milkshakes on the table. You were in heaven and thanked the waitress as you dunked a chip in the sauce.

“What is wrong with you today?” You asked.

“What are you talking about? I’m just being my usual self.” Ransom shook his head and threw the raggedy napkin across the table away from him.

You remained silent and continued to eat, allowing him to stew over whatever it was that was eating at him. It didn’t take you long to demolish your lunch, but Ransom still hadn’t touched his food. All he had done since you told him off was chew on his lip and glared at the sugar dispenser.

“Okay, seriously, you need to start talking.” You challenged.

He sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “Okay, but you can’t freak out.”

“What did you do?” Your eyes went wide as your mind ran wild with all the crazy things that he could possibly do in the last twenty-four hours.

Ransom looked up at you and laughed, “I can’t take you seriously right now.”

“What?” You frowned, feeling a mixture of confusion painted across your features.

His hand gripped your chin and his thumb swiped away at the sauce that you’d long forgotten. The heat on your cheeks grew tenfold and you coughed when he hadn’t removed his hand from your jaw.

“Ah yeah sorry. Sauce.” He stammered.

You smirked, you’d never seen him this worked up before, what had gotten into him, “So?”

“Okay, don’t fucking freak out on me but someone in the office wanted to make a bet with me. About you.”

You stared at him, all of your thoughts emptied out into the diner, “I’m sorry, what? I think you need to say a bit more than that.”

Ransom explained how one of your co-workers approached him and placed a bet that he wouldn’t be able to bed you before the corporate summer party.

“Who the fuck was it?” You growled; hands clenched on the edge of the seat.

“I’m not telling, I don’t want you to start a fight. You’re my favourite pers-assistant.” Ransom shook his head and began to nibble on the fries. His face screwed up at the realisation they were cold.

“Hold on. You agreed, didn’t you?” Your heart raced.

“I did. I have a reputation to uphold.” He smirked, “and was worth it, you should see your face right now.”

You scowled harder, “how much was the bet?”

“Ten thousand.” He shrugged.

“Fuckin’ hell Ransom, you’re cocksure, aren’t you?” You laughed at him, “why did you accept it?”

“That’s loose change to me.” Ransom shrugged and brought the replaced milkshake to his lips, tongue curling around the straw.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But I want half.” You explained, mirroring his action with your own milkshake.

Ransom choked on his drink and quickly rushed out his words, “you what?”

“We aren’t having sex, Ransom.” You rolled your eyes and placed the drink down, “If they ask, I’ll just say we did. It keeps your reputation intact. No harm, no foul.”

“They want proof.” He raises his eyebrow.

“Fuck sake, okay. Come over to mine tomorrow night and we’ll take some fake dirty pictures.” Without waiting for a response, you stepped out of the booth, “Now, I do have some work to do and funnily enough, so do you.”

“Anyone would think you were the boss.” Ransom playfully sulked and placed some money on the table.

“I might as well be.” You gestured towards the door, “Move it.”

The black baby doll was just perfect for this photo session. It was a little see-through, but your modesty was covered with the lace detailing skimming the tops of your thighs. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you had to get this over with sooner or later. With one final look in the mirror, you steeled your nerves and opened the bathroom door and slowly walked to your bedroom.

“Hello,” You anxiously stuttered, “Where do you want me?”

Ransom’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, his large hands rubbing along his thick thighs, just the way you had admired yesterday. You internally berated yourself, this wasn’t sex. It was all fake. It was an easy win for you both - Ransom kept his reputation and you got a nice little pot of gold for a rainy day, or week.

“Just lay down on the bed and look sexy.” He commented, unhelpfully.

You nodded and shuffled around until you found a comfortable position, with your arms draped above you. It didn’t feel sexy, it felt awkward and uncomfortable. Why is this so hard? You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body and turned to face Ransom. He’d moved the left side of the bed, his phone in hand ready to take the shot.

“Ready?” Ransom asked, and you thought you saw a sparkle of sincerity in his eyes with his one worded question.

“Yes,” you said and gave him your best pout and ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“I said ‘be sexy’, not be a fucking blowfish.” Ransom snapped.

You bolted up from your position, kneeling on the edge of the bed to get back on his level but it was no use, the man was still towering over you, “I’m trying, I’m not exactly in the mood.”

Ransom raised his brow from above, and you hadn’t quite realised how close you were to him, his stomach mere inches from your chest. The lack of response grated on you, his face was irritating, and you were ready to shove the five grand up his ass.

“Actually, this could work.” Ransom pulled off his shirt and revealed the tight muscles. Your anger morphed into desire; you wanted to reach forward and touch him but kept your hands refrained at your sides. “Now, look up at me and bite your lip.”

“Perfect.” He smiled down at you and cupped your face. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek and paired with his words; a shiver ran down your spine.

Instinctively, you bit down your lip and unbuckled his belt to the sound of the camera shutter. Hands traced Ransom’s abdomen and he sucked in a breath as you stroked a sensitive spot.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and looked up at him, “maybe we should have some photos where your face is in it too?”

Ransom didn’t need to be asked twice, he pulled down his chinos and exposed his thick muscular thighs. Your mouth watered and warmth bloomed in your tummy at the sight of the black Calvin Klein’s hugging his groin.

You rearranged your position to lie down amongst the sheets while Ransom crawled onto the bed to kneel between your legs. His hand cupped under your knee and hoisted one of them up to his hip.

“You might need to take this one,” he handed the phone to you.

Just as you went to take the photograph, Ransom’s other hand slid underneath the baby doll. It sent another wave of pleasure through your body. His smooth hands stooped just beneath your breast and it almost made you whimper. Almost.

With an attempt to gather your bearings, you decided to focus on his phone and snap a few pictures of this new position. But seeing those little images captured and whizz into the corner made you want more. There was no point denying it as you felt the tell-tale signs of your arousal between your legs. But did Ransom want it?

Ransom moved the sheer material up and lifted your leg higher, over his shoulder. Before you could ask what, he was doing, his body dipped down, his lips so close to pressing against your stomach. Oh god. Your body instantly betrayed you as your hand went straight into his messy short locks eliciting a deep groan from Ransom. His hot breath fanned across your skin, goosebumps raising in its flow.

You took some more pictures, feeling the wetness pooling in your panties, the heat growing and growing up your body. Ransom returned to kneeling and you noticed the prominent bulge in his pants, and you finally got your answer. He did want it.

A mischievous smirk replaced the smile on your lips, “you’ll want to take these.”

You sat up and turned around so that you were kneeling in front of him and giving a great view of your behind. Ransom couldn’t restrain himself, his hands instantly gripped at your hips and pulling you back towards him. He growled and you whimpered as he rutted between your cheeks.

“Ransom, the photos?” You sang out and smirked into the pillow.

“Oh yeah, right.” Ransom spluttered and began to take the photographs from this new position then you heard the soft thud of the phone dropping onto the mattress, “hang on a minute.”

Gracefully, he spun you around and managed to get underneath you to seat you just above his hips. You were entranced by the dark lust-filled eyes that studied your body, following the hands that skimmed along your waist.

His touch sent sparks across the exposed skin of your chest, his fingers toying with the lace trim as they descended the plunging neckline and over your breasts. You rocked against his stomach, giving you just a little bit of pleasure from the friction at your core.

Ransom bolted upright, one arm wrapping around you while his other hand brought you closer until his mouth met yours. The kiss was heated, it pulled you deeper into the need for more, to have him deep inside of you. Ransom’s tongue swiped along your bottom lip, demanding access and you obliged without hesitation.

You’d only thought of him, like this, late at night and alone. It was nothing compared to your wildest fantasies to have him kissing you like this or to feel him hard beneath you. You squirmed to feel him better, but he broke the kiss.

“Sorry,” He panted.

Your stomach plummeted at the thought of him regretting what had barely started, “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Ransom avoided eye contact and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more than you already had done, “we just got carried away.”

“Ransom, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will kick you out.” You raised your eyebrow in a challenge.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Chatter and laughter filled the gaps of the song blasting through the speakers set up around the roof terrace. The large projector screen reeled through photographs of colleagues, in and out of work, successes in the tabloids and social media. Pool water splashed over the edges with each dive-bomb or flirtatious swish between colleagues. You watched on behind the sunglasses and relished in the sunshine beating down. It was rare to have such perfect weather and you wanted to soak up as much of the rays as you could.

The moment you spotted Ransom talking to a few people over at the bar, you thought now would be the best time to approach him. It had been a few hours since you arrived, and you only last saw him the morning before, and a few weeks since that first night. You both wanted to take things slow, it wasn’t how you expected things to happen but neither of you regretted it.

The nearer you got to the bar, you suddenly felt like everyone’s eyes were on you. Side glances from the Marketing girls, a laugh, and a grimace from a few others. Then you saw Ransom rushing up to you but also looking behind.

Before he reached you, you spun around to the projector and saw a display of all the photos you and Ransom had taken that night. Your stomach dropped, nausea taking over until you were about to collapse on the floor.

Hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you on the spot. You looked at the terrified gaze of Ransom. His lips were moving but your ears buzzed with the hum of blood pumping through. Unable to process what had happened, you tried to escape. To get away from the people that were staring, gawking, at you. At you and Ransom on the screen and then down to the pair by the bar.

“Please talk to me,” Ransom pleaded, “I didn’t know that’s what she was going to do.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You asked, your mind reeling with how this could be a vendetta against Ransom, and you’re caught in the crossfire.

Ransom’s eyes widened, “Yeah, probably a year ago.”

“You fuckin’ idiot. Get out of my way.” You tried to walk past him, but he blocked your path.

“Can I come with you?” He asked face paled.

You scowled, “No. Move.”

Ransom followed you, weaving between the crowds of sniggers and laughter. You could hear him pleading, almost begging for you to stop but you refused. You needed to get out of there and he was making it more difficult.

You skimmed the edge of the pool and Ransom grabbed your bicep, attempting to stop and turn you around. Without a second thought, you spun and shoved him. He fell backwards into the pool with a great splash. It only made you feel good for a split second until he resurfaced.

“Consider this my notice, I quit.” You turned on your heel and left the party, your job and Ransom behind.

The End.

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[chimchimjiminheadcanons]

Temptation/Chapter 2

Word count: 4,590

Warnings: Mentions of a near death incident (very close to a car crash), cursing, drowning, murder, alcohol, poking holes in religions (specifically Christian) and once again, please mention if I missed anything else I should put here :)

(M)/(1)/(3)

“You haven’t even seen the worst of it yet.”

"Hey there little miss perfect."  Finally after six hours of working, you're out of that hell hole you call a job. Said hell hole was busy today, meaning you went without a lunch break and your stomach was growling like an angry bear, begging for some kind of food in it. "For the last time," you groaned, "don't call me that." "Then what would you like me to call you?" "Chulgi I would rather die than talk right now."  It's kind of your fault Chulgi is even talking to you in the first place. You knew he was working here at the diner tonight and you haven't spoken to him in half a month. You doubted he'd let you get away with that. Yet he did. His shoulders rose and fell and he swung around, back facing towards you while he busied himself cleaning a milkshake glass. "The usual grumpy pants?" You groaned again. "What? You told me not to call you miss perfect, this is the only other nickname that suits you." "I'm not grumpy just... Tired." "You get grumpy when you're tired." "No I don't!"  Chulgi snickered, shaking his head and pouring the freshly made (F/F) milkshake into the tall glass and pressing a candy straw down into it. "Since when did you guys start using these?" You poked said protruding straw, Chulgi moving to sit up on the counter beside you. "Since customers started complaining about paper straws falling apart in their milkshakes." "Oh," you made a face at the sugary taste the straw brought to the drink. As if there wasn't enough sugar in it already. "Yeah. I told them all it was your fault we even had paper ones in the first place." "Hey! I just wanted to save the poor innocent sea turtles!" "We're literally as far away from the beach as possible here!" "Doesn't mean the straws won't end up in the water!"  Chulgi rolled his eyes. "Fine, but what are we supposed to do about the straws when someone wants one for water?" "No one drinks water with a straw," you retorted. "Plastic bottles are actually half of the problem too so plastic on plastic means dead turtles." "Do you really think people just dump their stuff in the ocean for fun?" "Some people do and whether they like it or not, sometimes it ends up there."  Chulgi let out a sigh. The two of you always have conversations like this because of your polar opposite personalities. For some reason being so different means that you get along so well. You suppose all of that opposites attract bullshit might actually be true. Still, Chulgi doesn't do much for his environment, claims to be leaving it for the 'hippies and professionals.' He sees you as the former purely because you like turtles and hate the images people use to guilt trip you into feeling bad about using straws and buying oranges in those weird orange net bags.  You suppose the nickname Miss Perfect really did suit you in a way. You've always been a good kid, a goodie two shoes whom most people hated purely because you're good at everything and nice to everyone. Though you find it difficult to believe in higher powers and what they seem to think is right and wrong, you've always tried to do what is good for the world and everyone in it. You like to make as much of a change as you can. "You know," Chulgi slid off of the counter and took the glass for you once it was empty. "Maybe you shouldn't try so hard."  Chulgi's words confused you and yet still sent a pang of pain to your heart. You weren't trying too hard... Right? "What do you mean?" "To be perfect y'know? People have flaws and," he paused. "And you don't always have to hide yours with good things like saving turtles." "I'm not trying to hide anything Chulgi." "Yeah well, it really feels like you are. You're not the same as you were in high school, in fact, it feels like you're not the same - even after a month." "I..." "We're closing soon," Chulgi turns his back to you. Inside of his mind, he's insecure. He feels so little compared to you and it feels like being friends with you is only you showing him how much better he could be. But he can't be better, he can't change because it's not who he is. You make him angry - partly because you're so much better and partly because you push every good thing you do on him. "You should probably go." "Chulgi-" "We can talk later."  Chulgi untied his apron from behind his back and hung it on one of the hangers and when he turned around again with an apology he should have said dancing on his tongue, you were already gone. He could tell from here that he had hurt you, he had fucked up and he had said the wrong thing. He should never have brought that up, he knows it's just a part of who you are and he also knows that you'll forgive him far too easy. He knows you let people walk all over you. You're too perfect and you're too kind.  You're beyond upset. You're sad and angry and confused all at once and all of this piles up when hot tears start leaking from your tired, (E/C) eyes. You didn't even care anymore, storming out on to the road and wiping your eyes at exactly the wrong time. You hear the screeching of breaks and light makes you squint when two large, round headlights shine light on you in the dark of the night. You can't move, paralysed with fear and suddenly, your feet no longer feel the comfort of the ground underneath, someone's picked you up.  Things are fading in and out and as you spin you noticed the driver jumping from the seat of his truck. His jaw is dropped, fear and confusion leaving him breathless as he searches for you on the road, but you're not there, you've disappeared and now all you can see is the bright white gummy smile of someone. Nothing else is visible except darkness and that smile. You can still feel arms around your midriff and suddenly, there's nothing and you fall, hard. "Ouch!" There's a lump on your forehead and you can feel it with the soft palm of your hand. You've landed somewhere, somewhere hard yet soft. Something is tickling your nose and when you lift your head and the rest of your body so you can sit upright, you glance around you and notice thick walls of leaves and... Grass? "What the..."  You could've sworn you were just at the diner. There's no grass near there for miles, it's in the middle of a city. Yet still here you are wearing the same thing you were wearing before when you almost got hit by a truck. Black sweater and jeans with a pair of docs, laces tied tightly enough to cut off the circulation in your feet (they're a size too big for you, so there's not much of a choice) and hair slightly messy from the long day of stress.  You know it can't possibly be the same day, it's so bright here that it's almost blinding. Little do you know its all a chimera, an illusion you are yet to have poked holes in and that's when you notice the figure that has been sitting in front of you this entire time.  You speedily jump to your feet, eyes almost falling out of your head at the sight in front of you. A man with blondish silver tinted hair sits on a throne. That's right, a throne and not just any throne either but one just as silver as the strands of hair mentioned previously. The throne had snakes for armrests, fangs dripping a green substance onto the pavement below, pooling in puddles of green. His eyes don't meet yours in fact - he seems completely uninterested in you, instead focusing on the glass in his hand, filled with the same green substance.  This particular part of what you can only assume is a maze is on a flat surface while that particular part has stone stairs leading upwards. The throne is higher than all of the maze, almost so high you can't make out the features of said man. Part of you wonders if you should attempt to speak to him or turn the other way and run.  Jimin watches you from here. He's perched upon one of the mazes high walls, almost completely invisible to you. Curiosity and wonder are his drives for being here, wondering what you'll do before watching you walk towards an exit. Just as you reached it, a silver gate grew from underneath the earth and blocked your path, shining snake head lock (you have to risk putting your hand in it's mouth to unlock it) protruding from it's bars, spikes making it physically impossible to climb the gate without getting hurt. There is no other escape and it is this shaking of the earth beneath him that disturbs Namjoon. "You're awake," Namjoon simpered. "It's been a day and four hours." Namjoon placed his glass on one of the snake's heads which out of the blue moved and curved around the crystal glass, snake's mouth clasping it and holding it safe, green liquid still dripping from it's fangs and now into the glass. "Come here."  You didn't move. Something about Namjoon was sinister, something about him made you fear him and you didn't want to get any closer than what you already were - as far away as possible. It was like your feet were glued to the ground, you wouldn't dare take a single step. Namjoon chuckles at this display of fear. He's never been feared before he's even begun before. "You are already a pain in the ass," he sighs, "it's no surprise that you ended up here."  He stands from his throne and you watch as the steps in front of him move to suit each step he takes. It's almost like he's gliding on ice all the way down, he doesn't even need to bother walking. You wonder what he means by ended up here. "W-where," you curse your stutter. Namjoon is getting closer, making your heart beat rapidly in your chest. If it weren't for the gate behind you, you would run. "Where is here?" "Where is here?"  Your voice echoes back to you, though it doesn't make any sense. Tall walls of leaves and thorns with twisted black roses should not echo. Yet it does, playing back to you in a way that makes you shiver. Soon enough you notice that Namjoon isn't the same as he was before, his eyes have changed colour from a dark pooling red to (E/C). The same exact colour as your eyes. "How..." Again your voice echoes and Namjoon grins at this. "You're in a maze and one that won't be easy to get out of."  You figured as much already so to this you nod. "In order to escape, you need keys. Keys for gates just like the one you seem to think will bring you safety," Namjoon stalked even closer than before and he wasn't wrong, you had backed so far away that your back had almost hit said gate in attempts to get away. "Each gate is different, each key is different and each person you will encounter is different." "W-what do you mean?" "What I mean is that," he points to the snake near your neck. "You need a key from me to get out of here. One that goes right in there and in order to get it, you have to beat me." "Beat you?" "Did I stutter?"  You gulped feeling a lump forming in your throat. Namjoon had no intentions of harming you and has made it very clear by now judging by the fact that he hasn't attacked you and though he is getting closer, he brings no weapon with him. Yet that daunting sound of your voice bouncing off the walls is caused by him, an attempt to mimic you for future purposes, said purpose he is trying to explain. "I'm not sure how much you humans believe in heaven and hell nowadays," his hands press into the pockets of the tight black jeans gripping his thighs. "It seems you've all strayed from your path. None the less, you've been dropped right into the maze of the six sins." "Aren't there supposed to be-" "Yes I've heard it before," Namjoon sighed, extending his hand beside him and you watch in terror as the snake - still holding Namjoon's drink - comes alive and slithers towards him. "There are supposed to be seven of us. And that's why you're here." "Why I'm here?" "In a nutshell, yes." He pauses for a moment, lifting the glass to his lips and smirking as you watch the hot, green liquid pour down his throat. "It's a long story that I don't feel like explaining but, if you make it out of here alive, there remains six of us. If you don't, we will gain a seventh." "Will that," you gulped, "will that seventh be me?"  Namjoon doesn't answer, only drops his glass as the snake recoils. The crystal shatters and the floor beneath you morphs into a smooth marble. "I think that's enough questions for now."  When your head lifts from staring at the tiles, you realize Namjoon is gone. Instead of that grassy maze, tall pillars stretch to hold the high roof and as you look back down again you realize your docs have been replaced by a pair of heels. It feels painful to walk in them you realize as you take a step forward, yet as you continue to walk, it becomes easier to do so. You notice that there's a mirror against the wall on the opposite side of the house and you break into a jog to reach it.  It looks like you've travelled back in time, diamond earrings falling from your earlobes and hair long, smooth, shimmering and tied back into a bun on the side of your head. In this bun, a feather is placed in the center and you notice that your chest feels tighter than usual. A corset. It's uncomfortable but luckily, the skirt brushing against your thighs wasn't one too huge to move and instead was made of a kind of black silk trickling down the skin of your legs, showing only the front of it. It felt different, but not bad.  Beside you, there's a few oak tables and on the wall there's what you can only assume is a phone. It's different, a dial - one that you recognize from a long time ago - on the side and strangely bulky. Painting's littered the walls, ones with incredible details. This would have to be the house of someone rich a loooong time ago.  You glance around the room some more and notice a portrait sitting upon a table and reaching out to it curiously, you lift it from the table and notice a familiar face. It's Namjoon and he's sitting there with his mother and father and by the looks of it, a younger brother. The two boy's hands are folded in their laps, parent's hands on their shoulders and fake smiles pulled as they stare into the camera. Namjoon's eyes look as sinister as you remember, pooling with anger and a red as dark as fresh blood. It makes you shiver and when you look up, you're no longer alone.  Namjoon looks exactly like he does now - you suppose that means the sins never age - except in different clothing. It's a suit of some sort and suspenders stretch across his front. You have to admit, he looks incredibly handsome. No. You shake your head. You should not be thinking like this about someone like Namjoon. He's probably - no - definitely at least a hundred years older than you. Gross.  Namjoon places the jacket he had slung over his shoulder on a coat stand near the door and pushes a hand through strands of dark black hair. There's whiskey on the table and he pours it for himself, clutching it in one of his strong hands and swirling the liquid around, staring out the window at the beautiful gardens of flowers and grass all around his house.  His family is definitely rich. So rich that he's spoiled so then, why does he stay here rather than getting his own home somewhere else? Why is he still with his family? Before you could work out the answer for yourself, a young boy who looks about the age of twelve walks out from the hall. His dress shirt isn't tucked in his pants like the older boy's is, instead it's out and messy and he's holding a stuffed animal to his chest. "Brother!" The child smiles and runs towards Namjoon, bringing a similar smile to your face before you notice how coldly Namjoon addresses his brother. There is no 'hello,' no 'how was your day,' no 'isn't it nice outside today brother?' Just cold. Silence. The younger male wraps his tiny arms as far around the older's torso as possible but Namjoon doesn't move, only sips his whiskey and stares out at the view. "You've been gone for so long! I'm pleased that you are home now."  Namjoon turns towards his brother. "You're a mess child, have you been running around in the garden again?" Namjoon's voice is laced with something unfamiliar and angry. His smirk is menacing, yet the child doesn't fear him, only smiles the brightest smile you've ever seen. "I wanted to get flowers for mother, her and father argued this morning and I felt like it might brighten her spirits." "She hates it when you kill all of her flowers," Namjoon hisses and turns back towards the window. "You're so inconsiderate."  This makes you frown. Namjoon's younger brother is innocent, trying to do what he thought would make things better and Namjoon has brushed him off, made him feel bad about it. The younger boy's arms slowly grow limp and drop from Namjoon's torso, a notion which makes you almost want to cry. The younger's smile had dropped, instead solemnly looking out the same window Namjoon was. "If you want to do something for mother that will make her happy," the older starts, "start yourself a bath and be clean when she arrives home."  To this the younger nodded and disappeared from sight, back down the hall and then into a room on the left. Namjoon stood there for a moment and then a moment longer until he heard water rushing from the faucet and into the bathtub. It scares you how quickly he drops the glass of whiskey to the ground, bronze liquid spilling on perfect floors and again just like you had seen when he shattered the glass earlier, said glass spread beneath his shoe-less feet. He did not care. He continued to walk forwards through the glass and you followed as he stormed down the hallway. Terror and curiosity makes you shiver, especially when he swung the door of the bathroom open and allowed it to hit against the wallpaper covered wall.  Namjoon's younger brother was sitting in the bath. His stuffed animal was sitting on the sink and he was talking to it while covering his face with bubbles. It seemed so innocent, so adorable and you nearly screamed knowing exactly what Namjoon was planning. "Oh hello brother, I'm doing fine you don't need to-"  Namjoon lent on the edge of the bath and grabbed his brother by the shoulders. Tears leaked from his eyes - much to your surprise - as he pushed the adolescent's head underneath the water. There were screams from underneath the bubbles and the floor was wet from water that had spilled from all of the thrashing and fighting the younger did. Namjoon was relentless, you covered your eyes in fear for the nightmares you would see for the rest of your life as the younger boy's lungs filled with soapy, warm water. "You are the little rat who took everything from me!" Namjoon's voice came out in a yell, almost loud enough to shake the roof above the boys. "They only care about you! They allow you to do whatever you please! They give you more than me and all for what brother! You are the most disgusting creature I've ever known, I'm going to take the life they gave you just to torture me away with my own two hands!"  Tears began to leak from your eyes as the fight the younger boy was putting up started to become less and less intense. Water no longer splashed over the edges and though Namjoon's eyes leaked tears too, he continued to push the boy under. "I cannot let things go on like this brother. I will be the center of their attention again. They will only care for me. They will spoil me and love me and never give time to you any longer for a dead boy is no fun is he?"  And then the thrashing stopped. There was no more splashing, no more yelling, no more screaming, just daunting silence. Namjoon's breath came out in heaves. He wouldn't allow himself to feel guilt for this. Not now, not ever. He was the one who deserved the attention. He was the one who deserved to inherit his father's company, not that boy. That boy was nothing. Not to him and as selfish as it was, it benefited him so why should he care. A smirk stretched across his face, one that disgusted you when you noticed it.  His younger brother only ever gave him love. Only ever cared for Namjoon and his parents, he never cared for himself. Everything he did was right, everything he did was perfect and Namjoon killed him because his parents cared more about the younger, gave more to the younger, payed more attention to the younger. It wasn't fair, so he killed the purest creature to ever grace his life, and now he leaves the bathroom, hands covered in water after draining the tub and leaving the twelve year old boy's lifeless body there to dry and shrivel before his parents arrive home.  You shiver, yet notice that you're back in front of the mirror. Thoughts about what happened make you gag and this eventually leads to you shivering, legs wobbling and struggling to hold you up as you throw up into a potted plant near that very window Namjoon kept glancing out.  After composing yourself, you look at your reflection again, it morphs to one that looks exactly like you except... Better. This version of yourself is slimmer, eyes glimmering and when she smiles, dimples dig into her cheeks. She stares at you through the mirror and looks you up and down. You find yourself suddenly covering your stomach with your arms and turning from the mirror.  Your stomach churns, suddenly feeling lesser than the reflection of yourself in the mirror and soon you realize that the corridor you had taken to running down - heels clacking against the marble and skirt twisted in your palms as you attempt to move as fast as possible away - had thousands of mirrors lining it and in those mirrors was that same reflection, that same version of you that was so much better. She's miss perfect, you're miss boring and suddenly a familiar feeling of jealousy twists in your chest.  Pieces of the puzzle come together now. Envy. That has to be Namjoon's sin, that has to be why he mimicked you and why he stole your eyes. He has to have been a normal person once but the scene you saw before explained everything to you. He was jealous of his brother, so jealous that he killed him. And that's how he ended up as the sin of envy. That has to be why your reflection cackles and giggles as she watches you run by, moving from mirror to mirror because no matter where you go, she'll always be there and always better than you. Some sort of twisted understanding dawns on you now. Chulgi must feel like this when you talk about the things you do to him. He must always feel like a bad person and that you're so much better. And it's this that makes you stop at the end of the haul, paired with exhaustion. "You," you glare at the girl in the mirror who seems shocked by the way you address her between broken up huffs. "You are not me. You are not perfect and I don't want to be you."  The girl in the mirror's smirk has long dropped from her face as she stands there arms crossed against her chest. "I'm not jealous of you!" Your brain works on overdrive and you start to analyse each and every thing Namjoon has shown you earlier. After all, he's a smart man - you've realized - and he's hidden hints with each word he says, each action he does and maybe it's a lie. Maybe you are jealous of that reflection, that projection of you that is everything you wish you were and more, that reflection of you that is you but without all the things you're insecure about but no one is perfect. Again you realize something that Chulgi has said to you before, you don't need to work so hard to hide your flaws. You're perfect as you are and though it may hurt you to know you'll never be that reflection, you realize that you don't want to be. You really don't want to be.  Before you ended up here, Namjoon dropped his glass. He drained it of liquid and dropped it to the ground and as it shattered, you ended up here. Suddenly you realize the way out of here is to do exactly the same thing. Destroy the glass - or you guess in this situation, the mirror. Without thinking, your luckily gloved fist collides with the smooth surface and you come to the conclusion far too late that this action brings with it so many years of bad luck, but it was so worth it to see that false reflection's face shatter, and now you can see the shards scattered on the ground coming back together again. You can see your true reflection and you look so beautiful. At this you kneel, careful to avoid any shards that haven't connected back to the main mirror and stare. Except... Something is different. A key is hanging from the roof, one with a snake shaped handle and you gasp, reaching up and tugging it from the thread it was hanging on. This had to be it. It had to be the key. "I have to say," Namjoon laughed, "you did a pretty great job."  You flinched hearing the man's voice. You were back in the maze again, key clutched in your hand except now instead of cowering in fear at the sight of Namjoon, your eyes thin and rage seeps through your body. "You... You killed him!"  Namjoon grins and sighs, turning - his back was facing you beforehand - and facing you. "I'm one of the six deadly sins my dear, you haven't even seen the worst of it yet."

[that-terrible-writer]

It Is What It Is

What’s this? Another part of another story in two days? Who am I? May not be a good second part so I apologize. 

| Sweet Pea x Reader, Archie Andrews x Reader |

Part 2

Part 1

‘‘It is what it is’ was perfection! You’re so talented”

“MAKE A PART 2 OF IT IS WHAT IT IS!!!!!!!!!!!”

Sweet Pea entered his trailer, slamming the door behind him, throwing his leather jacket across the room due to frustration. His actions alarmed Jughead, Toni, and Fangs; who had paused their card game to look up at their friend.

"She didn't come crawling back to you like you thought?" Toni sarcastically remarked, having a smirk tug on her lips; placing down a card onto the pile. Sweet Pea shot her a glare, turning his attention to Jughead.

"I thought you said there was nothing between Y/N and that Ginger." Sweet Pea spat, pointing his finger at Jughead. Jughead raised a brow before going back to his card game.

"Nothing romantically that I know of," Jughead spoke, "We've been friends since we were kids so I wouldn't be surprised if something was there."

It wasn't the answer that Sweets wanted to hear. That seeing you on your porch with Archie, that something could've happened and it was all because of his stupid remark with Fangs. Sweet Pea ran his hand through his hair, getting more frustrated with himself; cursing under his breath while his thoughts were running wild. He pictured you in bed with Andrews, running your hands all over his chest, kissing the Ginger's jaw while he did unspeakable things to you; things that Sweet Pea wanted to do to you.

"Why don't you want her to be part of the Serpents?" Fangs questioned.

"You're kidding me right?" Sweets chuckled, staring down at his closest friend, "Have her do that stupid initiation up on that stage? She's better than doing that shit." Jughead couldn't help but chuckle, knowing what Sweet was feeling as he felt the same when Betty had done it without his knowledge.

Sweet Pea went over to his fridge, pulling out a beer, not even thinking twice before chugging it: pulling out another. "Fuck," He mumbled against the lip of the bottle, taking another swing at the beverage. He didn't want to admit that a Northsider had captured his attention, he didn't want his gang to know about you for either picking on him or having Penny know about you.

"So are you going back out?" Toni asked, leaning back onto the couch while she took a sip of her drink. "To admit that you love her?"

"I don't love her." Sweet quickly denied. He remained quiet, staring at the wall of his trailer. "She's just a friend."

"Then why do you care if she and Arch get together?" Jughead smirked, knowing that it would just set Sweets off. Poking the bear. Sweet snapped his head in Jughead's direction, placing down his beer; wiping any liquid off his lip.

"She wouldn't go for that loser," Sweet mumbled.

"Archie has been her friend since childhood, right?" Toni mentioned, looking over at Jughead to correct her if she got anything wrong, "Been with her through the hard times, through every heartbreak; he was the guy that had picked her up when she thought no one was with her. Sounds like someone she can rely on, someone that would be an ideal boyfriend."

"A Northsider will always pick a Northsider instead of a Southside," Fangs explained, "It's just the way of life, man."

Sweet Pea walked over to grab his jacket off from the floor, putting it back on and grabbing his bike's keys, "Fuck you, guys." He growled, leaving his trailer to head back out.

"What a child," Toni laughed, resuming back to her game.

"So how are things going with you and Ronnie?" You asked, taking a sip out of your chocolate milkshake. The two of you decided to take your talk to Pop's to get out of the cold and get more comfortable. Archie picked at his fries, sighing.

"I told her I loved her." He confessed. Your heart sank, but you had to quickly cover your pain with a smile. You lightly slapped Archie's hand, causing him to look up at you; to see your excitement.

"That's great, Arch!" You exclaimed, "I never thought that the Archie Andrews would settle down with a girl."

"She didn't say it back though." Archie continued, ending his sentence with a defeated sigh.

"Well, it's different for everyone," You explained, "She just needs more time but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel the same way." You saw Archie not cheering up with your words of encouragement. He went back to staring at his meal, resting his chin on his hand.

"What if I'm wrong," He thought out loud. You sat on the other side of the booth confused by his words. Archie's eyes flickered to look into yours, making your heart pick up and your cheeks to flush in color, "What if I wasn't meant to be with Veronica."

"You mean to be with someone like Betty?" You countered. Your lips slightly parted, having them slightly dry from the heavy breathing you were trying not to show. Archie reaches his hand across the diner's table, grabbing your hand.

"Or you." He simply said. He gave your hand a squeeze. You couldn't take your eyes away from Archie. It was everything that you wanted, you wanted to be with the boy next door. A classic high school sweetheart story.

It was perfect.

You felt something heavy land on your shoulders. You saw Archie look up above your head, letting go of your hand, sitting upright in his seat. You looked at what covered your body, seeing that it was a black leather jacket. The moment you realized who this belong to, your head turned to look up at Sweet Pea glaring at Archie.

"She's already with someone." Sweet Pea declared. You pushed your eyebrows together, puzzled at what he was saying.

"What?" You softly let out. Sweet Pea came to your side of the booth, grabbing onto your arm to pull you out. Archie got out of his seat, shoving Sweet away from you.

"Don't touch her," Archie ordered. He grabbed the leather jacket off of you, shoving back at Sweet Pea. Archie tilted his head, pointing a finger at Sweet Pea when he figured out, "You're the reason why she cried. You made Y/N cried."

Sweet Pea looked down at you, surprised that he had made you cried. You quickly looked away from him which caused his heart to sting. He never wanted to be the guy that made you cry. He wanted to be what you thought of Archie. He wanted to be the one you relied on, who you talked to about your problems but never did he imagine think that he was the problem.

"That's between me and her." Sweet Pea stated to Archie, having a snarl on his lip. He grew irritated with Andrews who was acting like he was your boyfriend. Archie took a step forward, getting face-to-face with the Serpent.

"I think it would be a good idea for you to leave," Archie ordered. Sweet Pea quickly looked down at you. He wasn't going to let Andrews win. He looked back at the red hair boy, letting out a smirk.

"No." He simply ordered, having a chuckle escape him. "She has the right to either speak to me or not."

You saw Sweet Pea shoving Archie slightly away from him, provoking Archie. You had to do something before a fight broke out inside Pop Tate's. You quickly got up from your seat, grabbing Sweet's arm to pull him away from Archie. You dragged Sweet Pea away to the other side of the diner but it didn't stop Sweet from saying, "Looks like she chose me."

You stopped in your tracks, letting go of his arm just to punch him in the chest. "What is your problem?" You spat, startling Sweet Pea by your anger.

"I went to your house to see if I can explain myself to you but instead found you here on a date with that asshole." Sweet Pea mumbled.

"That asshole is my best friend," You slapped his chest once more, "And I'm not yours. I don't even know what I am to you because you obviously are just using me to get under Archie's skin!" Sweet Pea was amused how angry you were getting, finding it cute. He never seen you get so worked up over anything; all he ever saw of you was this sweet and innocent girl. This was a new side of you and he wasn't mad about it.

"I didn't want Fangs to get the wrong idea about you." Sweet Pea tried his best to explain but it only confused you more.

"What? About your gang? I told you it was fine with me." You told him. Sweet Pea let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his mouth with his hand.

"Fine with you but if the Serpents know about you: that's different and I don't like it." Sweet Pea told you. His face turned serious, making you freeze in your spot. "If they find out that I've been hanging with a Northsider, I don't even know what they would do to you and I seriously don't like not knowing."

"They seem fine with Betty with Jughead." You brought up, causing Sweet Pea to laugh and shake his head in disapproval.

"No," He confessed, "Jughead was very clear to her to stay away yet she pried her way in leading to their break up."

"They broke up?" You were surprised at Sweets words. They seemed fine just a few days ago but you had no clue since Betty was busy with the Black Hood scandal.

"I don't want you to be mixed with them, that's why I had to say what I said to Fangs." Sweet Pea explained, his eyes softened when he looked back into yours. "I didn't mean what I said." You grew silent, looking away from Sweet Pea to down the diner. You saw Archie watching from the booth that you had shared with him.

You looked back at Sweet Pea, seeing him worried. He didn't like that you weren't answering him and when you opened your mouth, it was the exact thing that he didn't want to hear, "It is what it is," You softly said, "You said it yourself, I'm a Northsider and you're a Southsider. We can't be friends."

You tried to walk past Sweet Pea but he grabbed your arm, pulling you to his side. He lowered his head to whisper in your ear, "You know that I won't leave you alone," His breath tickled your ear, causing your heart to pound and making your breaths shaky, "You can ignore me all you want but that won't mean I have to."

"This isn't Romeo and Juliet, Sweets," You whispered back, not even looking at him. You heard him chuckle, making you close your eyes as you heard that same chuckle when you hung out multiple times. You loved hearing it.

"You're right," He confessed, "It's way better than that shit." He released your arm, letting you to slowly make your way back to Archie and sitting in your booth. You didn't look behind you. You heard the bells to the door go off, knowing that Sweet Pea had left. Your gaze went to the side, to look out the window to see him mount his motorcycle. Sweet Pea looked back at the diner, seeing you looking at him, he couldn't help but smile at you.

Knowing that you were looking at him confirmed him that you felt something that he was feeling. That you didn't want either your friendship or the something more to end. That he had that chance with you. He had a chance at getting his happiness again.

"What do you see in that Southsider?" You heard Archie ask you, you looked away from Sweet Pea to look back at your best friend who had worry written all over his face, "He's dangerous. You shouldn't hang with someone like him."

You shook your head, taking a sip out of your now melted milkshake, "He's not." You answered, looking once more at Sweet Pea who still was in the parking lot looking at you: grinning at you. "He's different."  Your heart tugged once more when Sweet Pea sent you a wink before heading off. "He's a good person." You looked over at Archie, "I swear my life on it."

Tagged: @alwaysmebeforeyou