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bambikisss · 1 year

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FAVORITE PRIVILEGES:: CHOI SAN

Inspiration: Money Heist: Korea

Song: Deja Vu - ATEEZ, The Ring - ATEEZ

Summary: After your normal day at work is interrupted by ATEEZ taking over the government office, you try your hardest to keep your head down and wait until it all ends. However, one of the criminals has their eyes on you.

Story Warnings: Use of guns. Getting held for ransom, attempted assault. Unprotected sex (wrap it up, people), spit, use of nicknames (princess, baby, etc), he calls you a whore once, oral (both receiving). Of course, let me know if I forgot something.

A/N: So, I had a hard writer's block and so I got this idea while watching season 2 of Money Heist Korea. Plus, I found this picture of San's titties.F/N= friend's name and Captain is HongJoong. THIS IS STRICTLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES

Times were hard, as of recently.

Crime rates were at an all-time high and unless you could afford to live in the high-end gated communities, then you were at risk every day for something to happen to you. Citizens had been begging the government to come to do something for such a long time, demanding that they be saved from the never-ending crime. Only after one of the lawmakers' wives was mugged did they begin to do something. They began to crack down on crime, dropping the rates down a large amount. However, it came with a cost: the government began to hog money. They stopped doing any sort of program that would help lower-income people, claiming that the money was to be used for helping keep the crime rates down. This caused many lower-class people to move and let the upper-class people fill in for them in the communities. You couldn't believe how fast your friendly neighborhood changed: people you had known for almost all of your life were moving away from the capital and leaving you to deal with the rich, snobby families who had formed an HOA just to try and kick you out.

You were in the upper middle class, working for at the capital's bank vault. You were an assistant to the chief of the vault, following him around from 9 am to 6 pm while he yelled at his many subordinates. You felt bad for them; the chief was totally in love with you and if anyone came at you with a tone that wasn't sweet then they'd be screamed at. When it came to everyone else, he was so short and rude.

"You know, Y/N, you're my favorite. You know how to do your job properly," you held back the urge to roll your eyes at your boss's "compliment," thanking him as you both walked through the lobby. For it being the middle of spring, you woke up that morning shocked that it was freezing. You were going to back inside and change, but you realized that if you did, you'd be late, so you bit the bullet as you knew after work you were going out with some coworkers and wanted to dress nice. Now that your boss was eyeing your outfit with his pervy eyes, you were regretting it. "Mr. Myung, please stop staring at Ms. Y/N's legs." You both stopped in your tracks to see F/N making his way toward you both. He had been transferred to the vault from being in the secret service, which pissed off Myung more than ever; if there was going to be someone who called him out on his shit without the fear of being fired, it was F/N.

F/N always had your back when it came to your boss, giving you a voice when he knew you couldn't use yours. You had a feeling he was going to try to make a move on you due to his passing flirty looks and comments, which you welcomed. "Here. I know how much you like this cake," you thanked him as he handed you a Red Velvet cake, promising to eat it during your break before walking away with a pouty Myung.

Around midday while you were taking out the cake, you received a notification to join the staff in the lobby, which was strange to you; there was no staff meeting scheduled for today, and why meet in the lobby of all places? You shook it off though, making your way to the downstairs lobby. When you did meet with everyone, you noticed how confused they all looked, asking each other if they knew why they were there. Before you could text your boss to see if he knew why, a loud gunshot rang through the lobby, making everyone drop at the loud echo. "Stay down on the ground!" You felt your eyes widen as 8 masked gunmen entered the room, shooting up at the ceiling once more. You felt horrified, worried that they were going to hurt you all. They promised that they wouldn't if you did what they said, which you all agreed to do; move against the wall in two groups, get on your knees, heads down, and hand over any phones. You tried to hold in your tears as you placed your phone into the bag, your boss whispering at you harshly to stop your sniffling. The masked man who was gathering the phones stopped in his tracks, crouching down in front of him as he gripped what little hair the man had left.

"She can cry if she's scared. You need to be the one shutting up before I make you." You didn't even bother to look up as your boss agreed, placing his head back down as the man moved on, continuing to gather phones. Once he was done, a loud clap echoed as one of the other criminals spoke. "Alright. I think it's time we build some trust. You've done what we've asked this far, so we should at least be aqantiences throughout this experience." Everyone looked up as the men removed their masks, showing their faces with confident smiles.

"If you need a name to call me, you can call me Captain. I chose the name based on my love for pirates growing up."

"So you mean to tell me that they're doing this to fulfill some sick childhood pirate fantasy? Give me a break," Myung whispered aggressively next to you, making Captain halt his speech. He raised an eyebrow, making his way over to grip your boss's face to meet eye-to-eye aggressively. You could see it in Captain's eyes; it was like he was possessed by a demon. The way he was just acting was so different from the way he looked at your boss. "What was that?" You listened to your boss whimper as Captain gripped his face tighter, smiling at him like a lunatic.

"Just that...Y/N's knees must really hurt! S-she definitely needs a break from sitting on them," Myung stammered out, glancing at you for support. You couldn't help but feel betrayed; to save his own ass, he was willing to shove you into the hands of a criminal. Captain glanced at your knees, indeed seeing some bruising forming. He released his grip on Myung's face before calling over one of his men, telling him to take you to the office and keep you there. You carefully stood up, stumbling behind him as he led you away from everyone towards the office that you had been in so often. You thought about making a run for it as you passed the fire exit before you noticed the heavy machinery he was carrying. You knew that if you ran, he'd either catch you immediately or kill you on the spot, and with how Captain's eyes looked, you didn't want to take any chances.

After you were locked in the office, you slumped against the wall, shaking as you cried. You didn't know what was going to happen to you and now that you were separated from everyone else, you worried for their safety as well. You rushed to the desk, picking up the phone to try and call for help, before halting when you heard the silence on the line, not the familiar dial tone. "Don't even bother trying to call for help." You jumped as the door closed behind a man, the locking sound being the only thing that broke the silence that came after he spoke. "All the phones that are connected in the office have been shut off, so you can't reach anyone, princess."

The man was tall and bulky, obviously built well. He had a slit in his eyebrow, and a small lip piercing at the corner of his lip that you would've missed if it didn't glimmer in the sun. You would be lying if you said you didn't find him attractive, but your fear overcame your underlying lust. He unzipped his jumpsuit, letting the top half fall as he stretched, his white tank top ridding up which gave you a chance to look at his abs. He caught you looking as he returned to his normal stance, chuckling as he walked closer to you. You backed away as he stalked closer, only stopping when your back hit a nearby bookshelf. "How are your knees?" You looked at him in confusion at his question before you remembered what was said to even get you in this predicament, telling him that you were alright. He nodded before his radio went off, telling him to meet the rest of the criminals in one of the nearby offices for a team meeting, signaling the end of your first interaction. As he walked back to the door, you stopped him as he reached for the doorknob. "What should I call you?"

You had a feeling that you were going to be dealing with him often, so you wanted to know what to call him. He chuckled as he found your sudden question cute, shaking his head before he opened the door, turning to face you before saying "San." You nodded as he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the office.

San came to check on your throughout the rest of the day, taking you to the bathroom when you needed to go and took you to and from your work shifts at printing money with the others. While the others all slept in sleeping bags in the hallways, you were placed to sleep in the office under San's watchful gaze.

You woke up from one of your naps to see San leaning against the wooden desk, chewing on the red velvet cake F/N had given you. He must have not seen the fork that was next to the container, holding the cake in his hand as the frosting coated his fingers and his lips. When he met your eyes he smirked, licking the frosting slowly off his lips before placing the cake back into the container, keeping his eyes locked with yours. "Well, looks like sleeping beauty is awake." He approached you slowly, crouching down to meet your face as his frosting-covered hand rested on his knee. You bit your lip as he placed his thumb into his mouth, licking off the frosting slowly. He made it look so lewd; his tongue made sure to move around his thumb to clean up every single spot of frosting before humming at the sweet taste. You couldn't help but feel jealous, wanting to lean forward and lick the rest of the frosting off of his hand.

San must've had the same thought as you, holding his ring finger to your lips. He moved his finger along your bottom lip, his eyes darkening as you licked the small amount. He felt his boxers tight around him as you leaned forward wrapping your lips around his finger, your tongue moving to clean the frosting. San had to hold back from fucking you right then and there, biting his lip as you kept eye contact with him, only breaking it when his walkie went off from HongJoong telling him to report for a meeting. He cursed softly as you moved away from his finger with a wet pop, looking up at him with doe eyes. San took a second to process what you had just done before standing up, shooting a wink your way before leaving the room. He wiped the frosting off of his hand onto his pants as he walked down the hallway, trying to calm down. Even though you both hadn't exchanged a lot of words throughout the interaction, he could tell that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

San cleared his throat before he entered the crowded room, meeting the eyes of his friends. They didn't seem to notice the white smudge on his pants, nor how quiet he was, which he was thankful for. "San, how is Y/N doing? I want to put her back with everyone else as soon as possible."

That made San snap from his thoughts, asking what HongJoong meant. HongJoong looked at San like he had grown a third head, pointing to where all the other hostage's sleeping bags were. "Y/N doesn't get any special treatment. I kept her separate so that everyone would trust us more. Now that they are used to the routine we've created for them, Y/N can go back with everyone." San wasn't fond of the idea of not being able to have some alone time with you, wanting to get to know you more and maybe follow up on what you had done in the room before he left. Call him crazy or a hopeless romantic, but San knew what he wanted.

San knew he couldn't change HongJoong's mind, agreeing to escort you to your work shift and then move your sleeping bag to be with everyone else. He knew that while he may not have the opportunity to have you alone, but he would still be able to see you around. He took every opportunity he could to walk by you or interact with you, which you actually didn't mind.

One night while you were trying to fall asleep after a shift, you were woken up by a tap on your thigh, making you jolt awake. As you quickly sat up, you were met with San smirking at you, placing a finger to his lips as he shushed you. "Come with me, princess." You nodded quietly as he helped you up, leading you back to the office. When you both entered the room, he placed his gun down before he turned to you, admiring how you looked in the moonlight. "I missed you, princess. I never got to apologize for eating your cake."

You sighed as he smiled at you, easing the tension in the room. San had let you see a different side of him; sure when someone crossed him or anyone else, he could get angry, even sometimes as bad as HongJoong. But, he let you see how sweet he was. It made you wonder how someone as sweet as him ended up in such a situation. If you had met him outside of him holding you and your coworkers' hostage, you probably would've dated him; heck, a part of you still wanted to despite the situation.

You couldn't remember what made you grip his face and smash your lips into his; only remembering the sweet taste of cake on his tongue and the way his hands gripped your hips. You moaned into the kiss as he pressed your back against the door forcefully, the kiss turning rough and passionate as his hands roamed your body. He wanted to touch you like this since the moment he saw you, and now that he was, he wasn't going to let this opportunity go.

San began to kiss down your neck, murmuring your name as you gripped his hair. "Calm down, princess. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," he chuckled against your neck as he left a mark before pulling back to press his lips back to yours. He ripped away your top, chuckling darkly as the buttons scattered around the room. You loved the way San was treating you; like he was desperate for you. He wanted you and would do anything to have you. It made you feel dizzy as he tore away your bra, tossing the ripped fabric behind him as his lips wrapped around one of your breasts. He sucked gently as he met your eyes, his skillful tongue playing with it as his free hand played with your other one. At one of your loud moans of his name, San paused before cutting you off with a kiss, shoving his tongue to meet yours to shut you up. "As much as I love the sounds you're making for me, princess, you gotta be quiet. I don't think you want everyone to hear about how the good girl is in the office fucking a criminal."

You squeezed your legs around his body, letting your eyes roll back as he bit your bottom lip. "Such a bad girl, you are. Over here about to ride and cream all over a criminal's cock. Such a whore," he placed you onto the desk as he removed his jumpsuit, leaving him in his tight boxers. You placed your hand on his body, admiring his toned body; his large pecks, his chiseled abs, his strong V-line. It was like a wet dream. San watched as your hand slowly moved down his chest, gripping the top of the bottom half of the jumpsuit. He raised an eyebrow as you got off of the desk, sinking to your knees as you took the pants down with you. Only when you began to kiss around his clothed cock did San run a hand through your hair before tilting your head back. "Open your mouth."

You did as he said, whimpering when San spit down into your mouth. He pushed down his boxers as he tapped his cock against your tongue, mixing your saliva with his cock before pushing into your mouth, pressing the back of your head against the desk as he filled your throat. "Breathe through your nose, baby. Show me what his slutty throat can do." You moaned at his words, the vibrations making San toss his head back as he pulled out, giving you a moment to breathe before he began to fuck your throat. He gripped the side of your mouth as he moved faster, cursing under his breath as he felt himself become close. "Let me cum down that throat, princess. Milk me dry," his thighs began to tense up as he came, tossing his head back as he repeated your name. He took a few moments to gather his breath before looking down at you, breathing heavily as he praised you; "my good girl" ''you did so well for me''

He helped you up, kissing you messily as he moved you against the wall. You hastily removed your skirt and panties, whimpering against his lips to hurry up and fuck you. He gripped your hips as he pressed his chest against yours, his eyes scanning your face. You believed he was looking for any hesitation; to see if you truly wanted him. "Say it, Y/N. Say that you want me."

"I want you so much, San, please." As soon as the words left your lips, San's eyes darkened once more, kissing you roughly as he picked you up. He broke the kiss with a wet pop, placing you onto his shoulders as he pressed your back against the wall. You gripped his arms as you glanced down at the floor, scared of falling down from his shoulders. San looked up at you, kissing your thigh to get your attention. "Keep your eyes on me, baby. Don't look anywhere but at me, I've got you." You nodded as you stared into his eyes, moaning softly when he licked a long stripe up your pussy. You tossed your head back as he began to tongue fuck you, the vibrations from his moans making you moan louder. You didn't care that someone could walk by and hear you, only concerned with the man who had his face in between your legs while you were propped up on his shoulders.

"That's it, Y/N, keep your eyes on me. Look at me while I eat out this beautiful pussy." He hummed against your folds, chuckling as one of your hands moved to press against the ceiling as the other gripped his arm, rolling your hips to meet his tongue. "San, I'm going to cum, fuck," you moaned softly as he sped up, begging for him to not stop.

You choked out his name as you came, San's grip on your thighs becoming tighter to make sure you didn't fall as he licked you through your orgasm. You felt like you were on cloud nine, not fully realizing that San was moving from the wall to the desk, gently moving you from his shoulders to place you on top of it. You laid back against it as San kissed your stomach, rubbing your sides as he waited. When you did come to, you placed your hand into his hair, running your hands through it. He hummed against your chest before looking up at you, sticking his tongue out at you jokingly, making you laugh. He kissed up to your lips, pressing his body against yours as he kissed you gently, cupping your face as he did. "Are you ready for me now, baby?" he hovered over your lips as he met your eyes, his free hand moving to stroke himself a few times. You nodded, letting out a small "please", making San moan. "If you keep talking to me like this I'm gonna cum fast." he pressed another kiss to your lips before pulling back, pressing himself to your entrance.

He wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing into you slowly as you tossed your head back, moaning at the stretch. You brought your head back up as he filled you up, biting your lip as you watched San's reaction; sweat on his forehead, hair sticking to his face, his tongue sticking out as he moaned. San couldn't think straight, wanting nothing more than to fuck you senseless. He licked his lips before he began to move his hips, moaning at the wetness that was now coating his cock and the front of his thighs. "Fuck, Y/N, goddam baby. Such a tight pussy." He hooked his arms under your legs, moving his hips faster as he pounded into you.

"San, oh my god, fuck!" your hands searched around for something to grab onto, choosing to hold onto your breasts, making him moan loudly. "Fuck, you're so hot, Y/N. Such a good girl, letting me pound into this perfect pussy. Sucking me in like your life depends on it, fuck." San felt like he was drunk, not being able to focus on anything else than how you were tightening around him. He moved one hand to play with your clit, moving your other leg to his shoulder so he could move deeper, making you moan even louder. "Fuck, gonna fill you up, Y/N, come on. Cum for me so I can fill up this pussy." You let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you came, your mouth drooling as San filled you up afterward.

You tilted your head to see San, moaning softly as San pressed a kiss to your knee, breathing heavily. "Look how fucking satisfied my baby looks. So hot," he chuckled, placing your leg carefully back down before picking you up, flipping you over so your chest was against the desk, your ass now pressed against his still-hard cock. You whimpered his name as he pushed back into you, his lips moving up your spine as his hand went into your hair, tugging your head back so you could see him in the reflection of the window. San looked so hot to you, making you clench around him before confidently saying "One more time."

San raised an eyebrow as you spoke, leaning forward carefully to press his chest to your back. "Say it again, Y/N." You confidently said it again, your desire for him giving you a boost of confidence. San smirked before kissing your shoulder, pulling out before slamming back into you, setting a rough pace. "So my good girl is out here making demands now, isn't she? Is my good girl going to become a bad girl over my cock?" You nodded as his hips began to meet your ass, his hands both slapping it before he spread your cheeks, watching as his cock continued to disappear and reappear while he fucked you.

You gripped the desk as San fucked you, mumbling things out in a daze as he did. You were drooling onto the desk, begging for more of his cock as he fucked you, which made him groan. "Am I fucking you so good that you've become so cock hungry, baby? Can't even fucking talk straight and drooling onto the desk."

"Yes, you're fucking me so good, I'm fucking coming." You tried to keep your eyes open as he began to snap his hips, slamming into your G-spot as you came. You let out a broken scream of his name, San coming right afterward as he leaned forward to shove his tongue into your mouth, kissing you messily as he breathed heavily. "Fuck, I love you, Y/N goddam," he spat into your mouth, holding your body close as he filled you up. You leaned more into his warmth, closing your eyes as he left wet kisses along your jaw, praising you gently. After a few moments, he pulled out, watching as both of your cum leaked from your pussy, making San moan, forcefully tearing his eyes away so he wouldn't get hard again. He cleaned you up with a napkin before putting back on his jumpsuit, helping you get dressed afterward.

"San, my shirt and bra are ripped. What am I going to wear?" you asked him, showing him the ripped fabrics. San bit his lip before he told you to wait a moment before leaving the room, returning later with a red jumpsuit like the one he was wearing. He helped you into it, smiling softly. "You look good in red, Y/N." You gently shoved his shoulder, making him laugh before he picked back up his gun, tilting his head to the door. When he noticed your hesitation, he asked what was wrong. "Well, what am I going to do when the others ask why I'm wearing this?" San hummed in thought before shrugging, saying "If anyone gives you a hard time about it, tell me." He offered you a smile as he opened the door, leading you back to the others for your work shift.

The others did ask why you were wearing a jumpsuit "those criminals," along with why you weren't with everyone else sleeping. You tried to make up excuses, trying to get through the shift. However, while you were exiting the bathroom, Myung grabbed your arm, tugging you to an empty hallway. "I know you're fucking that pretty boy, Y/N!" You tried to deny it, Myung punching the wall next to your head in response. "I was going to head into the office to try and call for help when I heard you moaning that asshole's name."

You felt a cold wave rush over your body at his words, trying to come up with an excuse to calm him down, not wanting the others to hear. "I can't believe you, Y/N. After knowing me for so long, you reject my advances but you bend over for some dick from a criminal?" You tried to apologize when you paused at his words. He was more upset that you had sex with someone who wasn't him than the fact that you had fucked your kidnappers. You shoved him back, telling him to screw off before you began to make your way back to the others. Before you could turn the corner, Myung roughly grabbed your hair, pulling you back against a wall. He pressed his arm against your throat, screaming at you for disobeying him. You watched as he raised his hand, almost as if he was going to slap you. But, before he could, his hand was grabbed by San, who pulled your boss back roughly, pushing him to the ground. San had an almost dead look on his face, pointing his gun at your boss who was now begging for his life on the floor. "If I ever catch you about to hit her again, I'll kill you on the spot."

San kept his eye on you more closely after that situation. The others began to spread rumors that you were in a relationship with him, which you always denied. However, you found yourself thinking about it at night. Did you want to date San? He treated you well and cared for you. Besides the fact that he was holding everyone hostage, you loved him.

You loved him.

You wanted to go on dates with him, wake up in your bed the next morning with him- you wanted to be with him.

When San came to you a week later letting you know that he was going to escape with the others later that night, you felt your heartbreak. You had grown so attached to him, so the idea that he was going to disappear sort of broke your heart. "I enjoyed getting to know you, Y/N. I hope we can meet again, someday," San smiled sadly at you, feeling the same way. He cupped your face, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. You gently gripped his wrist, closing your eyes before taking a deep breath, meeting his eyes again. "I want to come with you, San...."

"Y/N...If you do, there is no coming back." San let his thumbs rub your cheeks, scanning your face. While San did want for you to come, he wanted for you to know that if you did, you couldn't come back; you would have to start brand new. However, you didn't care; if you had to move far away, then you would do it. If you had to change your name and go through the 4 years of college again, then you would. And if in the end, you regretted it, then you at least did something you wanted to. "San, I want to come with you. I love you."

San nodded, pressing another kiss to your forehead before sighing. "When the red siren goes off, you have to go to the back, we'll be leaving there." You nodded, going back to the sleeping bag area, laying down but you didn't fall asleep. You were about to change the rest of your life forever.

Around midnight, a red siren went off, waking everyone up. You watched as everyone rushed to the doors as police sirens rang through the place, letting you know that the police were there. You slipped through the crowd before running to the back loading dock, where San and the others were packing up the freshly printed cash you all had been printing for the past few days. When HongJoong saw you, he glanced at San before sighing. "Are you just going to stand there or can you lend a hand?!" You snapped out of your daze before helping them place the bags into the truck. Once all the bags were in the truck, San helped you get inside before closing the door. "You know you're an accomplice now, right Y/N?" you nodded, gently holding San's hand, making him smile.

"But, I get to be with San. So, it's all worth it."

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robotic-rin · 6 months

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Why Wait For The Best When I Could Have You

(Beetlejuice x Reader)

Summary: In the light of recent notable events, you haven’t been quite sure how to be forthcoming with the family regarding your budding relationship with a certain demon. It doesn’t help that said demon isn’t known for his ability to keep secrets. Also, hopefully your mind isn’t too preoccupied making plans to soft launch your relationship, because Beetlejuice has had something on his mind lately that he’d really like to try out. It may or may not involve indulging his demonic instincts by hunting you for sport as foreplay. He’s lucky that he’s dating a monsterfucker.

Word Count: 24,092

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: even crazier demon sex this time, predator/prey dynamic, somewhat monster-y beetlejuice, temperature play, consensual possession, tentacle sex, copious amounts of biting, overstimulation, just a dash of breeding kink, oh we’re making this one HORNY-horny folks, porn with an unreasonable amount of plot, plot segments range from domestic fluff to hurt/comfort, more of beej’s mood ring hair being used to further my nefarious agendas, afab reader but with no gendered terms, tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there

Author’s Note: ok so i saw the very final showing of beetlejuice on broadway and it did inspire me to write a sequel to my fic that was originally meant to be a one shot. seeing alex brightman in the flesh was absolutely bonkers, there will never be another beetlejuice in my mind (though i’ve since seen justin on tour who is beyond awesome in the role too! alex is just my personal fave). my brain is like a snowglobe and beej is just rattling around in there so i had to write something. this can kinda stand on its own but i’d recommend reading the first fic in the series before this (linking it right here). as usual, check the tags before reading, make sure you’re good with em, and hope y’all enjoy!

“You did WHAT?”

You feel the welcoming presence of immediate regret falling over you as Barbara shoots a glare at Adam following his outburst. Maybe I should’ve told Delia first instead.

Adam seems to recoil in embarrassment at his wife’s disapproving look. “That is to say, that’s just, um…surprising! That you would accept Beetlejuice’s…unique advances. You just didn’t seem the, er, type.” His eyes dart between you and Barbara as he fumbles for words. “Okay, I’m just making it worse. Barbara, please, help.”

Barbara seems more than willing to swoop in and try to save this conversation. “What Adam is trying to say is, we love Beetlejuice, of course, he’s like family! We just didn’t expect that you would take to him so quickly and…enthusiastically! He’s a bit of an acquired taste for most people, like…quinoa salad! I mean, between the constant inappropriate comments, and the way he, to be frank, smells like a lawnmower on the best of days.” She laughs, just a bit too forced to sound natural but you’ll be damned if she isn’t doing her best to keep things polite.

Adam nods fervently. “Exactly, Barbara! Like, we’ve both kissed the guy through strange extenuating circumstances in the past, but it’s not like it was enjoyable!” He earns a swift elbow to the ribs from Barbara after that one. He lets out a soft oof and slumps against the side of the old loveseat where he and Barbara are seated across from you in the attic.

Barbara quickly turns and reaches to gently grasp your hands in hers. “Sweetie, it’s not that we aren’t happy for you, and Beetlejuice too. We just know that he can be a bit…much, after awhile, even for us. That might be a lot to deal with 24/7. I mean, it’s one thing if you didn’t have options, but someone like you? We always imagined you maybe with someone more, say…put together! Literally, when it comes to that guy.”

You shuffle uncomfortably in your chair, absentmindedly picking at the vibrant red stitched cushioning. “What, are you guys trying to tell me I can do better?” Your eyes dart up from your fidgeting hands to scan their faces.

With barely a second’s pause, the two of them begin talking over each other with various overlapping shades of, “No, nono, not at all, no…”

Adam seems to be nervously waving his hands at nothing in an attempt to dispel your accusation as though it were fog. “Hey, you’re a grown up, whatever choices you make, we support you one hundred percent! You just took us off-guard, I’m sorry if we come across as rude. If you’re sure about accepting Beetlejuice’s romantic propositions, then Barbara and I are beyond happy for you!”

“Absolutely stoked, dude!” Barbara puts on her silly deep voice for comedic effect, still fully dedicated to keeping the conversation light despite the deep awkwardness that practically permeates the air around you.

“Um, you guys realize I’m the one who more or less initiated this, right? If anything, he accepted my…romantic gesture.” You hadn’t exactly told them the less-than-family-friendly way that your feelings had been unexpectedly revealed to Beetlejuice due to some lingering sense of dignity and privacy that hadn’t yet left you, but you do have to wonder how long that’ll stay secret considering your new lover’s absolute and utter lack of shame.

“YOU came onto HIM?” This time, it’s Barbara who accidentally lets an exclamation slip out, earning an exasperated facepalm from Adam. You distantly wonder if Lydia’s conversation will go worse than this.

***

“So, how badly did they take the news?”

“They didn’t take it badly.” You resist the urge to look over at the demon who is currently hanging upside down from the ceiling next to your bed in a very relaxed bat-like fashion. Instead, you busy yourself with folding your laundry in neat piles next to you on your sheets. Anything to keep your hands moving.

Beetlejuice lets out a small huff. “You know, you can’t look me in the eye when you’re lying. The laundry isn’t that interesting, and I am literally hanging upside down on nothing. I’m very look-at-able.”

Your eyes dart up to take in his inverted face, one eyebrow raised (or lowered, from your perspective) in challenge. Any intention of snarking back at him dissolves at seeing his cute little expression, clearly proud of his perception. Without answering, you slowly lean forward, take his head in your hands, and softly kiss his lips. It’s an odd sensation to kiss someone upside down, but the two of you make it work. He returns the gesture wholeheartedly and without hesitation, kissing you in a equally gentle manner, yet not forgetting to keep you on your toes by quickly nipping your lip at the end with a sharp fang. He may be sweet with you, but he’s still himself, through and through. Not that you’re complaining.

“That was nice,” he rumbles, from somewhere way in the back of his throat. “But…you can’t kiss me out of this conversation.”

“I mean, it seemed to be working for a minute there.”

He barks out a laugh before twisting his head right side up, the rest of his body following at a delay and landing on the floor below on both feet, like a cat. “It was a valiant effort, babes. But come on, was your conversation really that bad?”

You sigh and toss aside your unfolded clothing to leave a spot on the bed for him to sit, which he readily takes. “I mean, it’s not that it was bad, it’s just…” You struggle for the right words before slumping forwards in defeat. “I don’t know.”

“Hm,” he muses at your words, emotions uncharacteristically imperceptible for a moment. “Babes, you know I won’t be pissed at them for thinking you deserve better than me, right?”

Your eyes snap open in shock and flicker over to Beetlejuice, scanning his neutral expression. Your mouth opens to say something, to assure him, to defend the Maitlands, to say something to make him feel better, but you can’t find any words.

“‘S’okay, you don’t have to say anything. I already expected it.” Beetlejuice moves to put his hand under your chin, thumb coming up to stroke your jawline to cheek. “Honestly, I agree with those two losers. I know you care about me, how could I not when you’re always lovin’ on me and shit? But I still don’t really get why. It wasn’t just to have sex, you’ve stuck around way past getting your rocks off and even willingly gotten into all my emotional fuckery. I don’t understand why. I mean, come on, have you seen yourself? You could easily woo somebody successful who, like, knows how to cook you a meal without explosions, someone who knows how dishwashers actually work, someone who can talk for hours about books, or art, or music, or whatever it is that smart people like you talk about.” He pauses. “…Someone alive. Better than a pathetic demon who just barely got a hold on his emotions after centuries of existence, at least.”

Your heart sinks, and you raise your hand to rest on top of his own hand on your face. “You shouldn’t say such negative things about yourself, for real. I don’t think of you like that, and I’m not leaving you.” You take note of his whole frame subtly tensing at those last words. There’s the sore spot. “I promise.”

His eyes dart to the floor. “…I know.”

You briefly study his reserved features in profile before bringing your hand to his face and turning him to look at you. “I’m not leaving you.”

He meets your gaze shakily. “Okay.” It seems as if he’s holding his breath, despite the fact that he doesn’t have any biological need for air. You’ve noticed that he’ll sometimes make sounds that can only be achieved through intake or outtake of breath, and you wonder if he does it on purpose for dramatic effect or subconsciously to mirror you, like a habit or mannerism picked up from a loved one. But right now, he’s still as a rock.

“Okay,” you repeat back to him, hoping your words were of some comfort. “As for the Maitlands, it’s not like they were against it or anything. They’re just surprised, and they don’t understand yet. But they will over time. Once they see us together.” You squeeze his other hand reassuringly in his lap. “And so will everyone else.”

He quickly jumps back to life after his quiet moment. “Ohhhh fuck, I forgot we have to tell everybody else in this house too. I kinda just wanna rip off the bandaid and tongue kiss you at family movie night and never bring it up so we don’t have to talk about it with all of these dweebs.”

“You absolutely know that Lydia will say something about that.” He’s right that Charles and Delia may be too polite to mention an elephant in the room, but Lydia has certainly never had an issue with being outspoken even if it’s uncomfortable.

Beetlejuice groans, flopping back on the bed. “Yep, you’re totally right. That kid is too blunt for her own good sometimes. Honestly, I’m shocked she hasn’t noticed something going on between us yet, cuz we’d totally know it if she had.”

You flop back onto the bed next to him, ignoring the tower of folded clothes that your head knocks over in the process. “To be fair, it’s only been a little over a week since we…got together.” What a polite way of saying we fucked like rabbits.

“Hm, maybe so, but you can’t deny the rich sexual tension that we’ve had going on for waaayyy longer than that, doll.” He winks at you and sticks out his tongue to punctuate the statement.

You let out a pure belly laugh at his words, playfully nudging his shoulder with your own. “Dumbass.”

Beetlejuice’s grin widens. “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” He nudges you back slightly harder, so of course you have to do the same in return to keep your honor intact. Before you know it, he’s on top of you, leaving you unsure if he teleported or simply moved positions very quickly. Cheeks already flushing at the precarious position, you try your best to fight back against him feebly, attempting to throw or push him off and finding no success. Beetlejuice, on the other hand, is just laughing childishly at your predicament as he easily swats away your hands that attempt to push him away.

“I don’t take it back,” you announce stubbornly, still trying to get any sort of leverage on the demon but finding none. He clearly outclasses you in both weight and strength, but you’re not one to let the odds deter you in this game.

“Oho, you’re gonna regret that.” The next time your hand moves to shove at him, Beetlejuice instead deftly catches and holds it by the wrist, immediately doing the same when you bring up your other hand to fight him off. After capturing both of your hands securely, he easily pushes them onto the bed on either side of your head, his nose inches from your own. With you effectively pinned to the bed, his eyes lock with yours in a half-lidded teasing gaze, smirk only growing wider as you squirm beneath him to no avail. “Aww, aren’t you so cute trying to get away from me?”

“This isn’t helping your case of not being an asshole.” If you can’t fight him off physically, you can at least be satisfied a bit by digging your heels into the dirt with your words. The more time you spend being silly with him, the more you understand the joy that he finds in pushing people’s buttons.

Beetlejuice doesn’t respond, and you know him well enough at this point to recognize this as his tell-tale warning sign of impending mischief. Wordlessly, he breaks the locked gaze that he had going with you to look down at the rest of your trapped form. Before you can think of a witty remark, he moves almost faster than you can perceive to press his lips to your neck and blows a raspberry against your skin. Taken completely off guard by this vicious attack, you let out a shriek and begin wiggling around to try and loosen yourself from his grasp, legs kicking but unable to aid you in your escape. He rewards your efforts with a sickly sweet smile and another attack.

“You-hu-hu dick!” Your insult only spreads his smile wider, which in turn makes you want to get out of his grip and launch a counter-attack even more.

“Wow, what a nasty little breather you are. Maybe if you took back your hurtful words, I’d stop.” He demonstrates his ruthlessness by giving you another raspberry right where your neck meets your collarbone, his scruffy beard tickling horribly against your skin and driving you wild. You’re unable to hide your laughter at this point, both at the sensations and his silly antics.

“F-fine! Fine! I take it back! You are NOT an asshole at all! Happy?”

He brings his head back up to brush noses with you, a self-satisfied and victorious grin plastered to his face. “Was that so hard?”

You wrinkle your nose at him as you struggle to catch your breath, trying not to show on your face the overwhelming fondness that is currently washing over you. He’s unspeakably cute above you, delighting in a silly little game, while simultaneously straddling you in a way that’s making it even harder to settle your racing heart. With nothing witty to say, you crane your head forward to lock lips with him again, savoring the sweetness of his joyful surprise. Kissing you does at least make him let go of your hands, his need to touch you outweighing his dedication to your game. Your hands come up to grab at his hair, their new favorite spot to rest, as your kisses intensify. Beetlejuice makes a low noise and slips his long tongue into your mouth, the still-odd but welcome intrusion making you groan lightly. Part of you hopes you never fully get used to the demon’s otherworldly qualities, hopes that the way your stomach flips in surprise at feeling sharp fangs graze against your lips never dulls. You move your lips back against him with this thought in mind.

Knock, knock, knock. The sound of a rapping at your closed but unlocked door immediately pulls the two of you apart, Beetlejuice wearing a sour face at the interruption.

“(Y/N)? Can I come in or what?” The easily recognizable voice of Lydia causes you to practically throw Beetlejuice off from on top of you, and he ungracefully falls off of the bed and onto his backside with a thump. You find yourself caught between mouthing “sorry”’s and waving him away from your bed and hopefully getting across the message to act natural.

“S-sure Lydia, come on in!” You try to straighten yourself out to look presentable and inconspicuous within the next few seconds, too preoccupied with smoothing over your clothes to even check to see what Beetlejuice is doing. Before you have another moment to prepare, the door swings open and in walks the goth teen that you’ve been sharing a house with for the past few months.

“Hey, Delia just wanted me to ask if you’d help with…what are you doing?” Lydia eyes you up from the doorway as you sit with your hands folded politely on your bed.

“Oh, you know, just folding clothes!” You speak in a tone that feels far too cheery coming out of your mouth, but it’s too late for a do-over.

“Uh-huh.” Lydia crosses her arms, her eyes wandering to the knocked-over tower of once-folded clothes next to you that have since become wildly strewn about during your scrap and ensuing makeout session with Beetlejuice. “You’re doing a pretty bad job at it.”

You mentally facepalm. “Ha, yeah, I guess I am…” Your voice trails off awkwardly and you pray for this conversation to be over.

Lydia raises an eyebrow, clearly picking up the odd atmosphere but hopefully not exactly sure where it’s coming from. “Alright.” Her eyes flit over to where you last saw Beetlejuice heading, and only now do you think to follow her gaze and see what he’s up to, to which you immediately wish you hadn’t. He’s floating multiple feet away from your bed, reclined in the air like he doesn’t have a care in the world, licking his finger and flipping through a book that is clearly upside down.

“Oh, hi Lyds! What’s up?” He does finger guns at her, the book still floating in place without his touch.

Lydia furrows her brow. “Dude, what’s wrong with your hair?” You snap back into reality with this statement as you realize that BJ’s hair is a gradient of light pink to a slightly darker fuchsia starting at his roots, probably not a color that anyone has really seen on him but you.

Beetlejuice’s face falls. “Uh. Well. You know.” He visibly struggles for words. “Romance novel. Heh.” He gestures to the book, which very prominently reads INTRO TO PHYSICS in bold letters across the front, not to mention the fact that it is still very much upside down.

Lydia nods as if that clears it all up. “Ahh, riiiight.” She turns back to you. “Anyways, Delia wanted me to ask if you’d help cut vegetables or whatever for dinner…”

You clasp your hands together as if nothing on this Earth could bring you more joy than slicing up some carrots for Delia. “Oh, of course! Tell her I’ll be right down, thanks for relaying the message!” You also do finger guns at her for no reason.

“Will do, weirdo.” She turns on her heels and shuts the door behind her without another word. You and Beetlejuice both let out a sigh of relief and you practically collapse back on the bed.

Beetlejuice floats over and collapses next to you, his body facing the opposite direction of yours. “Okay, so she definitely knows something is up.”

***

Those carrots never could’ve seen it coming, I chopped them up so well. You take a bite of the steaming hot home-cooked dinner that you lightly contributed to with satisfaction. The rest of the family eats at their usual seats at the table, conversing about whatever random topics to fill the silence between bites of food. Adam and Barbara have plates of food as well, despite not physically needing to eat. You figure it’s more of an etiquette thing with them. Beetlejuice also has his own plate, but it’s one of those children’s paper plates with an animal face on it, which is the only thing he is allowed to use ever since he proved that he cannot be trusted with the nice glass plates. You can feel his eyes on you as you eat. He’s possibly the least subtle person in the world, living or non.

“So yeah, I think I singed my eyebrows mostly off but I did get an A on my chemistry project, so it’s all cool,” Lydia concludes her story for the family, which you realize that you were accidentally zoned out for the majority of.

“Hey, careful, we don’t need any more ghosts around here!” Adam jokes, making a ribbing motion towards Lydia in the most over-the-top dad-like way.

Charles laughs through a bite of mashed potatoes. “Well, that’s certainly one way to pass a class! You’re absolutely your mother’s daughter, Lydia. You know, Emily pulled nearly that same trick when she was still in college. She’d be proud to know you’re carrying on the family legacy!”

Lydia smiles, a genuine smile that she doesn’t try to hide or diminish. “Heh, wow. That’s pretty awesome, dad.” She finishes the last bite of her meal and glances over at Beetlejuice. “Wow BJ, you haven’t even touched your slop yet.”

Beetlejuice jolts as he’s called out, and spares a look down at his plate. “Slop” is the right word for it, considering that he seems to have just poured all of his food into one big mixed-up pile like a nasty lunatic, the carrots indistinguishable from the meat and all of them lost in a sea of gravy together. Without a word, he unhinges his jaw like a snake and tosses the entire concoction down his gullet whole, swallowing everything (yes, including the plate itself) in one bite with an exaggerated gulp sound effect. He gives a thumbs up at Lydia with an unchanged blank expression, which doesn’t exactly do much to make him seem more normal.

Lydia makes a weird face at him. “Okay man, what gives? You’ve been acting weird as hell lately, and not your regular weird. You gonna let us in on what’s up or keep being all cagey?”

In your peripheral vision, you see the Maitlands immediately seem to decide that their plates just magically became the most interesting things in the room, and very worthy of their close scrutiny. You feel stuck between saying something to help out the petrified-looking demon across the table from you and staying silent to avoid further incriminating yourself.

Delia’s singsong voice breaks you from your trance. “Okay! I am uncomfortable with the energy at this dinner table and would like to move on…!” She clasps her hands together whimsically. “Now then, I have a new and exciting plan. Let’s clean up these dishes and all watch a m-“

“I slept with (Y/N).”

…Horror. That’s the only word that you can possibly use to describe your emotions in this exact moment. And from where you assume your soul is now floating outside of your body, you can see that you’re not alone, as Beetlejuice is currently the epicenter of horrified looks from everyone in the room. He slowly turns to look at you, his head seeming as though it should be making a pathetic creaking noise. His eyes are stretched so wide that they look like they could bulge out at any moment, looking dead ahead with his lips pulled tight into a long, flat line. Without a word being uttered from anyone at the table, he begins to sink into the floor. Literally. Beetlejuice slowly phases straight through the chair, into the floor, and out of sight. And just like that, he is gone. You distantly wonder if you should start cursing his name or if you’re just jealous that he has the ability to do that right about now.

Lydia finally pipes up. “Wow, you guys are shit at keeping secrets.”

***

After what you can confidently call the most awkward family conversation of your entire life, you finally make it back to your room and shut the door behind you, slumping against it in defeat. That was NOT how I originally wanted that conversation to go. I’m lucky that Lydia, Charles, and Delia were pretty chill about the whole deal, all things considered.

A rustling from your vintage armoire (perks of a pre-furnished room) snaps you back into reality. You take a tentative step towards the closed brown doors and press a hand to the old wood. The rustling stops abruptly.

“…Beetlejuice?” You call out softly, drumming your fingers against the door in a pseudo-knock. A small rustle answers you, and nothing more.

You move your fingers to lift the latch lock into its unlocked position and slowly creak both doors open. There, under your waterfall of hanging clothes, lies Beetlejuice: curled up in a little ball, hair a deep shade of purple, looking up at you with puffy dark eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, before you can even get a word out. “I’m stupid. Good for nothin’. I ruined your plan to tell everyone about us nicely.” You open your mouth, but he holds up a hand dramatically. “N-no need to say anything. I’ll go be a disappointment in someone else’s boudoir.” He materializes a small bindle over his shoulder and moves his hand up to snap himself somewhere else.

“Hey, wait, don’t go.” You gently grab his hand that he was about use to snap himself away, more of a symbolic gesture to stay than anything. “You’re not any of those things, and I don’t want you to leave.”

“I…” A look of slight surprise graces his forlorn face at both your words and touch. His earnest eyes seem to be searching your own for any sign of lies, and, finding none, he lowers his hand from your touch and disappears the bindle. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I really didn’t.” His voice has such a vulnerable touch to it, like a dog who had grown accustomed to being kicked and couldn’t find it in himself to expect any different. It truly breaks your heart to see, despite the lingering sense of embarrassment from dinner.

You sit outside of the large dresser, crossing your legs and leaning against its frame. “I know, bug. I’m not mad at you. I mean, I would’ve preferred maybe a softer phrasing if we had any control, but Lydia put you on the spot and we hadn’t even talked about how we would say it. It’s okay.” You bring your hand up to gently pet his hair, testing his reception to physical comfort right now. You get your answer when he leans into your hand with his entire head almost immediately.

“No kidding…kid had our number, babes. Or at least mine. But hey, least I didn’t say it like we bumped uglies or anything, I was pretty close and what I did say was all else I could think of right then. Mind couldn’t keep up with my mouth.” He lets out a labored sigh and smushes more of his face up against your hand like a particularly affectionate cat.

You give a small grin at his head bumps of love. “Yeah, well I have firsthand experience with how fast your mouth can be, so that checks out.”

A giggle that Beetlejuice couldn’t quite hold back slips out, a melodic sound to you. “Making sex jokes isn’t fair. You know I’ll always laugh at sex jokes.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I do know it.” You sit up on your haunches and lean in to lightly pepper his face with tiny kisses, only worsening the demon’s grip on his composure. The giggles that start to pour out of him uncontrollably are infectious, and you quickly find yourself unable to hold back your own. You continue your attack, enjoying the view as you watch tips of light pink begin to crawl up a few of his purple hair strands without his knowledge. After a good bit of shared laughter at your unrelenting kisses, Beetlejuice finally catches your mouth with his own. The feeling of his smile against your lips is sweeter than candy, and succeeds at making you forget all of your troubles for as long as it lasts. You suspect that he feels the same, considering that you are always, without fail, the first one to break away from every kiss due to your inconvenient need for oxygen. If it were up to him, you two might not ever come up for air.

When you pull back from him breathlessly, Beetlejuice’s eyes remain fixed on you, soft and almost perplexed as he searches for something unknowable in your expression. “Why do you love me back?” His voice comes out as a whisper despite the two of you being alone, as if he’s frightened what the walls of the home will think upon hearing his weakness.

“Oh, Beetlejuice…” You feel your loving gaze that remains locked onto him become tinged with layers of sadness, pitying the man who just can’t see himself the way you do. You reason that the best you can do is try to paint him a picture of your vision. “Where to even begin…? I can’t even say when or where I first fell in love with you, it’s like, I just realized one day that it had already happened to me without asking my permission. Yeah, I was really physically attracted to you, as we’re both well aware by now, but it’s more than that. I never wanted you to be just a hookup without anything past that.” Your hand finds its way to his own, an anchor to real life as you struggle to put your feelings to words in a way that will help him. “Beetlejuice, I love spending time with you. You’re the funniest person I know, and I’ve never had a dull moment with you. I could spend years watching bad movies and pranking the Maitlands with you and never get tired of your company. And, maybe my favorite thing about you is, try as you might sometimes, you can never actually hide how much you care about the people you love. I mean, you and Lydia squabble, but that kid is so important to you, I can see it. If she ever came home and said a teacher was picking on her, you’d probably go light their house on fire for being mean to your friend. That’s, like, the most attractive thing ever, if we’re being real here.” You’re blushing red hot at the earnest nature of your own words but do your best to keep your eyes from darting away bashfully. “Look, I…I wish I could say it better, so that you wouldn’t have to feel like you’re not good enough ever again. I wish I could fix things for you with pure strength of will, because I would be able to do it in a heartbeat. It kills me to know that you don’t always see yourself as worthwhile and lovable. I know you have stuff to work through, and honestly, so do I, but I wanna be with you to see it through. I’m all in, baby, you’re never getting rid of me. And I really do love you, so, so much.”

When you finally can savor your breath again after talking for so long without much pause and really take Beetlejuice in, you see two dark eyes looking back at you through a stream of tears. While one hand is still holding onto yours, the other is pressed up against his mouth tightly by his palm, as though to keep any sounds locked deep inside of him. Even so, he can’t quite stop a small sob from shaking his body, then another.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you attempt to soothe, craning your head to rest against his side, your chin grazing his lap as you look up at him. A more intimate touch, but not domineering and overwhelming, you hope.

Beetlejuice lets go of your hand to wipe at his eyes frantically, trying to clear away tears as more just keep flowing out of him. Now that he’s let one sob slip through, he seems to have fully lost his control as his body is wracked by more and more against his will. “I-I’m sorry, sorry…”

“Please don’t be.” You keep your head pressed against his side in a way that you hope is comforting to him. For a few moments, the two of you just sit there without speaking. You, praying that what you said was worded correctly, and Beetlejuice, trying and failing to stifle his weeping for so long and so hard that it eventually just dissolves into quiet hiccups.

After a bit of silence, Beetlejuice finally seems to calm down. “Wow, that was really embarrassing.” He speaks still lower than usual, but closer to his normal register.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry, that was supposed to make you feel better,” you sigh, bringing your head back up to be level with him (more like a bit below him, as the armoire’s bottom shelf is slightly above the ground level where you sit).

“No, s’okay. I think that was good for me to hear from you, probably. It was just…a lot. ‘Specially for someone who tries to avoid dealing with emotional crap as much as possible.” He turns to look at you, really look at you, for the first time since he broke down crying. “N-not saying what you said to me was crap! Not at all, don’t get me wrong. Just kinda…overwhelming, getting told so much good stuff about me at one time. Not used to it, kinda freaked me out in the moment. Buncha criticism at once, sure, that’s an average Tuesday, but that’s different.”

You smile lightly at his words, taking note of the purple beginning to fade from his hair and being replaced with his usual green, in addition to streaks of light pink. “I meant everything I said, y’know. Those are just a few of the reasons that you’re stuck with me, I could give you a list triple that size if I had some ample prep time and a better grasp on flowery love language.”

“Heh, you are too cute. C’mere.” Beetlejuice grabs your entire torso clumsily by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up and into the armoire, crashing your entire body against his lounging form. The two of you go from fully separated to tangled together in a tight space very quickly, leaving you to yelp in surprise as you try to adjust your positioning without much room to do so. The fact that the bottom portion of the armoire has a lip that comes up a few inches in front of where the doors close is all that separates you from losing your balance and falling right out. Kind of a miracle we’re not breaking right through this! Not sure if that’s demon magic or if this old thing is just sturdy as hell.

Try as you might, your legs being all tangled up and too long for the space keeps you from properly lifting yourself off of him for more than a second. “Well, I’m right here now, bug. Better?” As if to punctuate this, you lose your bracing and drop yourself with a thunk back onto his chest, which shakes below you with laughter at your predicament.

“Oh yeah babes, nice to see you still can’t keep yourself off of me.” Beetlejuice snickers, but does help your slippery ass out by pushing your chest backwards a bit, making you sit up more securely and straddle him on your knees.

You look down at him from your improved vantage point, taking in his mischievous little expression and wondering how long that’s been plastered on his face. “And just what are you thinking about right now?”

He meets your questioning eyes, sly smile only growing. “Oh, nothing. Just that I’ve never had sex in a boudoir before.”

“Baby, I can barely fit in here with you, I have no idea how sex could even take place in here.” As you speak, you also become aware of the clothing hanging just above your head, and do giggle to yourself at the idea of repeatedly smacking your head against a pair of pants in this scenario.

“Well that’s ‘cuz you’re not using your imagination, my love.” You feel his hands move down to grope at your ass as he teasingly enunciates your little pet name. “It’s fine though, it is a little shallow for two in here.” With that, he poofs the two of you onto your own bed, and you sprawl out gratefully on top of him, stretching your cramped limbs out.

“Sorry bug, my human body can’t be contorted that way for very long like yours can.” Your joints pop in relief as you go full starfish on top of your demon boyfriend, snuggling your head up against his chest. “I’ll do anything else you want, as long as I’m not smushed into a box to fuck.”

“Anything?” The tone in his voice makes it seem like his ears have perked up at your words in extreme interest.

You lift your head off of his chest to look him in the eye, a playful glint in your own. “Ah, it sounds to me like you might already have an idea here.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes quickly dart away, his cheeks flushed pink. “Ah, I mean- not, y’know, necessarily per se…” His defensive mumbles fade into unintelligible hums as he twiddles his fingers nervously.

“You’re cute when you’re shy.” You bump your forehead against his, forcing him to look at you since your eyes are mere inches from his own. “Y’know, it’s just about the only time you don’t have a clever comeback.” The mumbles that he makes in response only prove your point and make you giggle, pulling your head back and rolling over to lay next to him. “But really, BJ, you can tell me. You know I won’t laugh or think you’re weird….er than usual.”

He fidgets with the fabric of the sheets beneath him. “I know you won’t, I just…” He falls silent, seeming at war with himself over what to do. Being this coy about matters of sex is extremely odd for Beetlejuice, which of course, only piques your interest on what he could be so hesitant about even more.

You place your hand on his bicep, wishing that he’d ditched the classic striped suit before the conversation started so you could feel his cool skin underneath. “Hey, I know I’ve mostly taken the lead the few times we’ve had sex since getting together, but it doesn’t have to be that way every time. You know I’m willing to try different stuff if it’s with you. The real question is, what do you want to do?”

“I mean- I just like whatever you like, you know th-“

“Beetlejuice.” His eyes finally flick back over to make contact with yours, the power of you saying his full name is enough to get his attention on you and his mind out of his own thoughts a little. Your eyes soften at his hesitance. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Your thoughts matter to me. Promise.”

He seems to visibly soothe under your reassurances, though his face is still a bit twisted up. “I just- I mean, I guess I’ve always wanted to…” He drapes an open palm over his red-hot face, ever the drama queen.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe try, like, I dunno…hunting you down like a demon would and fucking you ‘til you forget your own name…” He chances a single glance at you through his fingers. “Something like that?” His words were spoken at about three times his normal speed, but you made sure not to miss a single syllable of that confession.

“Oh? Is that so?” You drag your words out in a sweet tone, relishing the way that he peeks at you from behind his strategically draped hand. “You wanna give me the full haunted house demon treatment before fucking me?”

Beetlejuice sits fully up, no longer able to stay reclined back on the bed or hide his enthusiasm as he talks. “Yes, yes, God yes, please, I h-haven’t thought of anything else in so long…! I wanna use my powers on you too, y’know, only if you’d be okay with that…” The floodgates have opened, and his eyes peer down at you with a vicious mix of lust and approval-seeking.

You meet his gaze with a half-lidded smile, sitting up to mirror his position. “Abso-fucking-lutely. Okay, don’t even say too much now, I’ve just decided I want you to completely surprise me on this.”

Uncertainty shrouds his expression. “You’re really okay with being scared by me, like that?”

You grin at his concern for you, internally cooing over how cute he’s being about such a lewd idea. “Baby, I hope I feel more scared than I’ve ever been before and powerless against such a big, scary demon, too. I know you respect me and wouldn’t cross any boundary that I didn’t want crossed, especially since we just the other day talked about the specifics in that department. We can use the same stoplight safeword setup as we have before, that seemed to work pretty well. So, think you can do that for me? Make me feel like I’m at the mercy of some terrifying ghost haunting my house before making me cum my brains out?”

He suppresses a groan, from far deep down in his chest. “Fuck, y-yeah, I think I can do that. Y’know, as a favor to your horny self, of course. Since you asked and all.”

You let out a giggle at his antics. “What, are you trying to tell me that it doesn’t make you horny to think about? That doesn’t sound like the Beej I know. I’m pretty sure you were at half-mast yesterday when I was just washing a zucchini in the kitchen.”

He grumbles defensively, crossing his arms but leaning in to push his shoulder into yours. “Well, try not to wash it so sluttily next time, I dunno…” His eyes dart away in embarrassment at being called out. “And hey, just a warning, but you might not be able to keep up with me if I go all-out. Remember when I told you that demons have a refractory period of like, 3.5 seconds? I wasn’t exaggerating, for once. So don’t be afraid to tell me when your little mortal body can’t take anymore.”

You have the ill-advised gall to laugh at this. “I’m not too worried about it. I’ve never had trouble keeping up with your needy ass before, so I think I’ll survive.”

Beetlejuice shrugs at your nonchalance. “Hm, if you say so. Just remember that I said it later.” He leans forward to rest his chin on his hands, as though he were preparing to gossip in bed with you. “Now, the real question is, when are we gonna get freak-ay? We do not have the amount of privacy that I’m sure you’ll want for this sorta event very often in this crowded-ass house.”

You lean forward to mirror his pose, both of you now looking like girls sharing secrets at a sleepover. “Well, I happen to know that everyone is planning to go out all day tomorrow. Including the Maitlands for once, since Lydia found out that they can possess objects and tag along for outside adventures Annabelle-style last month. Which I’d say, works out great for a human that will be home alone in the evening with the whole house to themself, eerily quiet and empty. Sure hope nothing happens.” Your demon’s pupils quickly become big round pools of inky blackness that engulf the surrounding brown iris as you say this, his body clearly giving away his interest in this idea. You flash him a knowing smirk, feeling the urge to be mean and tease him just a bit more than you should rear its head. “Think you can be patient enough to wait for it, or do you need me to give you a quick blowjob now to tide you over? I mean, I’m gonna make you wait either way, but I think I’d like to hear you ask nicely for it. Just for fun.”

As you finish speaking, Beetlejuice’s entire posture shifts in a way that you’ve never seen before. You swear that he looks slightly taller after adjusting himself to look directly at you, eyes narrowed but pupils still overtaking all of the surrounding color, fully locked on to your smaller form. “Oh-ho, my sweet, foolish little breather. I’d be more worried about yourself for the time being if I were you.” His self-satisfied smile shows off his fangs, looking even pointier than usual pressed against his bottom lip. “Now, I know you said you wanna be surprised, but I will say just one thing.” He brings a clawed hand to your cheek, stroking the soft skin gently, as though you were made of porcelain. “Make sure that tomorrow night, you’re wearing clothes that you don’t mind being ripped to shreds.” His words, spoken at a deep and salacious growl that is new to you, send a spark from the top of your spine that travels down through your entire lower body. Your visible shiver causes Beetlejuice’s slight smile to become a full grin at your reaction, and you nearly miss the intertwined streak of red and fuchsia swiftly sear its way through his hair.

You struggle to find the words to respond, his ability to turn the tables so quick has left you utterly reeling. “Uh, yeah, I can- I can do that.” And we’ve barely even begun. Maybe I really have bitten off more than I can chew.

“Good,” Beetlejuice purrs, stroking your face with claws that seem to be growing sharper by the second against your cheek. He runs them under your jawline by their tips, little pinpricks that tickle but also threaten to break the skin if he were to apply any pressure. “Oh, and uh, one more thing, my love.”

You can’t help you gulp that escapes you as his thumb and forefinger grab hold of your chin and hold you in place. “Y-yes?”

Anticipation dances behind his pretty brown eyes forebodingly. “If you run and hide from me, you’d better not let me catch you.” And just like that, it’s as though you blinked and he disappeared from your sight in an instant.

***

You adjust yourself on the living room sofa, flipping through TV channels absentmindedly. You have certainly not forgotten what Beetlejuice said to you before disappearing. On top of that, he’s made you a hyper-vigilant mess by not showing up again for the rest of the previous night and into this evening, the longest that you’ve gone without at least a pop-in visit from him since getting together. Everyone else was still gone for the day, having a lovely time out on the town, you assume. They had all said how bad they felt for leaving you behind on a family fun day, but you had fibbed a bit and told them not to worry since you were too busy with work to plan a full day out right now. Work, indeed.

A loud clap of thunder interrupts your thoughts, making you jump in surprise before sighing in relief. Hope the family isn’t getting rained out of their fun, whatever they’re doing out there. The wind is whistling outside as rain whips itself across the house with no signs of stopping. The pounding of the rain against the rooftops was creating a nice dull melody that you would to relax to, that is, if you were capable of relaxing right now. You wonder whether Beetlejuice might have any kind of influence over the weather or if the universe was just on his side for tonight. You’d by lying if you said you weren’t on edge, feeling like you’ve been standing on the edge of a precarious cliff as soon as the family left the house. He must know that you’ve been home alone for hours now, and yet he still hasn’t appeared. Unless, of course, he’s hiding in the house right now, invisible to your human eyes whenever and wherever he wants to be. As far as you know, he could be standing inches away from you, and you would be none the wiser until he chose to make himself known.

You vaguely regret the fact that you’d bent to your impulses and teased at making him wait for sex, for a multitude of reasons. A pent-up and horny Beetlejuice is an unpredictable Beetlejuice, especially when you throw in the fact that you asked him to be as rough and monstrous as possible tonight into the mix. Dread isn’t exactly the right word for what you feel, but it isn��t quite as small and easily explainable an emotion as mere anticipation either. You want him to appear more than anything, and yet all of the hair on your arms stands on end when you imagine what he’ll do when he does show up. You’ve been frustratingly wet for hours at the idea of it, unable to focus on anything else, but you haven’t touched yourself out of fear of him silently watching to see if you succumb to your own desire again, needy and impatient and desperate all because of him. The last thing he needs is such a monumental ego boost. If his goal is to play mind games and get inside my head, it’s working. You bitterly admire the restraint he’s displaying that you never would’ve imagined in a million years that he possessed.

Suddenly, another boom of thunder shakes the house, taking the lights and TV out with it and drenching you in darkness. A power outage. Awesome. Okay, stay calm. You feel around the couch cushions for your phone, but it’s nowhere to be found. Shit, I must’ve left my phone upstairs, so no dice on that flashlight for now… You quickly brainstorm an option that doesn’t feature you having to crawl up a staircase in complete darkness. Oh wait, I think Delia left some candles downstairs the other day after a long terrace meditation session! Standing up and trying to keep your balance as your eyes adjust to the sudden lack of light overtaking the house, you try to remember where the candles were last being stored. I think I saw them last when Delia was putting them in that kitchen drawer by the sink…I think.

Unsteadily, you step away from the couch and proceed in the direction of the kitchen. You’re starting to be able to make out general shapes of items in your path, but the darkness is so all-consuming that it can be hard to tell what’s real and what isn’t. You tiptoe around what could be a chair or just a dark shadow in the shape of one, taking care to reach out and touch the doorway to the kitchen with the delicate tips of your fingers before gently creaking it open. It makes far more sound in the process of opening than you would like, which you proceed to feel silly about worrying over considering that Beetlejuice is most likely not even here if he hasn’t made himself known yet. You feel you can pretty confidently conclude that he wouldn’t have this much patience, not when you’re so clearly right out in the open and defenseless.

With the door full and loudly open, you slip through and into the main kitchen area. Feeling around for the correct cabinet, you finally reach the one you were hunting for and pull the drawer out slowly. Using mostly touch, you feel around inside for the distinct texture of the long wax candle that Delia was holding in your memory, your hand skittering around the menagerie of unseeable items until your fingers finally graze its smooth surface. Your feeling of success is immediately extinguished when you hear a dull thud from the living room through the door, like the sound of something heavy being placed on the floor just a bit too quickly. At this noise, your hair immediately stands on end and you shrink towards the ground on instinct. You can’t quite see through the door at the angle you’re at, but you keep your eyes glued on the doorframe anyway. After a few moments of only utter silence following, you slowly rise back to full height. Maybe I am on edge enough to be imagining things. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard a phantom sound while I’m home alone that turned out to be nothing.

Steeling your nerves, you return your hands to the drawer to feel around for a candle lighter, keeping your body faced towards the doorway and your back facing nothing but an empty corner. The rain continues to pound against the house, lessening your sharp hearing abilities a bit with its unyielding dull roar. It’s taking you longer to find the lighter now, considering how you’re attempting to be careful to not disturb the various items in the drawer so as to make the least amount of sound possible. But the mixture of being unable to find the lighter and being on high alert from the random noise is making your heart race, and making you increasingly sloppy in your work of rustling around the drawer. You’re actually beginning to pant as you try to quicken the speed of your hands, ears ringing as you search fruitlessly for this godforsaken lighter and become only worse and worse at the task. You swear you see something move in the kitchen out of the corner of your eye, but nothing has come through the door and all of the shadows feel as though they’re closing in and grabbing at you, so you ignore your mind’s alarm bells and begin rifling through the drawer with reckless abandon. You feel as though you’re reaching a breaking point of some sort when finally, finally, you feel the cool plastic of the lighter beneath your touch. You let a shaky breath out, grasping the lighter and clicking in the button to produce a small flame.

Just as the flame sparks to life, lighting up your world just that small but significant bit, you feel your stomach drop in a way that tells you something is deeply, deeply wrong. It’s an old gut feeling, one so ancient and instinctual that it feels utterly impossible to ignore. The flame goes out, despite you still holding the button down. Before you have a chance to truly take this emotion in, you feel an unnatural chill that starts at your neck and runs all the way down your spine. You reach up to cover your neck reflexively, only for the same sensation to hit your fingers and the exposed bits of neck around it, closer and more intense. It’s only now that you realize what exactly is causing this chill against you. Breath. Cold, inhuman breath. A flat, unconvincing charade of your own breathing, carving a space for itself in the uncanny valley due to how incorrect it feels. Not only is it cold, but the breaths don’t have proper breaks between them, and they shift from being far too short to far too long to ever pass as natural. You realize upon this consideration that you’ve been frozen for more time than you meant to be, and quickly whip your body around to come face-to-face with the source of this “breathing.” But when you turn around, you’re merely greeted by empty air, same as it was before. Except that now, you feel the same breath on your neck from behind you again, causing you to once again try to turn fast enough to catch the source. And again, you fail.

Suddenly, you see a ripple in the shadows in front of you and feel a pressure push itself against your body. You scream on impulse at the contact and jump backwards, dropping your wax candle and accidentally knocking a bowl that had been left on the kitchen counter to the floor in the process, where it shatters on impact. With no time to react, you feel yourself pushed up against the same wall you had fearfully jumped towards by the same heavy force as before. You’re rendered completely immobile in seconds, some invisible, freezing cold strength holding you in place against the wall. Your arms are pinned up by your head, with most of the presence being on your torso to keep you in place. On top of the otherworldly force, you feel phantom hands begin to travel all over your body, too many to count. Over your throat, your chest, your legs, your ass. Scratching down your arms, you can barely see in the darkness as small red marks appear on them out of thin air. Without any warning, you feel something wet that you cannot see make contact with your exposed collarbone and drag its way up your neck, deliciously slow, as though you were being savored. At the same time, something sharp digs into both of your thighs at once, five little pinpricks of that grace the underside of each leg as they are lifted up and into the air, dangling uselessly. You can’t tell if blood is being drawn, but it hurts enough that you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Hurts so good. Hurts so good.

“B-Beetlejuice…” Your breathy moan pierces the otherwise silent room, and the wet appendage is pulled away from your throat slowly and deliberately. The pinpricks are lifted from your thighs and your feet come back to rest on the ground.

The shadows once again ripple, but this time, you can finally see him there, inches away from your face. His usually soft and pleasant features are so sharp and monstrous upon his self-reveal that it makes you jump a bit just to see him. He’s tall, unmistakably taller than his usual height, and looming over you with the hunched posture of a recently-transformed werewolf, some creature who was all bent out of its natural shape. Everything otherworldly about him is exaggerated, you notice, as your eyes rake over his fangs, which have become long enough to look like they could seriously do some damage in addition to his other usually-normal teeth looking sharp enough to hurt you as well. His claws are filed into sharp points, his tongue appears to have developed a fork at the tip on top of its impressive length, and his pupils have completely shifted into small black slits. A bright lightning strike pours through the large kitchen window and lights up the house for but a second to reveal his changed form more clearly to you, the black and white stripes covering his form reminding you of the hypnotically beautiful warning markings of a venomous creature. In the momentary flash, his eyes, mere inches away from yours, reflect back the light and shine bright white like the eyes of some nocturnal animal. The expression in those eyes is wild and feral, and while you’ve certainly seen Beetlejuice’s expression full of desperation and lust, this is the first time that you’ve felt like he’s ready to pounce and take whatever he wants from you. Not to mention the mixture of red and fuchsia lighting up his hair even in this darkness, a combination that you’ve never seen overtake him before.

“Mmm, I could cum from your delicious screams alone,” his voice rasps next to your ear, having an additional deep growl to his every word that you’re certain only a demon could produce, his usual tone mixing with something darker layered beneath it. It rumbles against your skin and causes another shiver to shoot up your spine, making your entire body shudder under his hold. He gives a look that you can assume is deep satisfaction with himself, pressing his face to your neck and inhaling deeply. “Gimme a color, babes.”

You gulp, not prepared to force words out of your dry throat. “G-green.”

You feel him smile against your skin. “Good. You tell me if that changes.” He pulls his head back to really take you in. You must look like a wreck, eyes clouded over with terror and desire, already clearly a horny mess from hours of waiting. Whatever state you’re in, it must please Beetlejuice to see, as he can’t seem to stop raking his eyes up and down your figure. “Okay, you want monster, how about this…I’m gonna give you ten seconds to decide whether you’re gonna run and hide like prey, or stand here and take it like a champ. Your call, but I will say this: if you can successfully hide from me, I’ll make it worth your while. This night can still become all about you, I can put all my focus into getting you off like a good little demon. But, if you decide to run, and I catch you, I’m gonna use you. I’m gonna make you get me off again and again and again, and I’m gonna keep fucking you like my own little personal toy ‘til I’ve used every last little bit of you up. However long that takes.” There’s no hiding the bulge that rubs up against your thigh as he lays out this last part of the agreement. “So. Deal?”

Your mouth runs dry at his proposal, but not out of distaste, or any true fear. It’s something much more entrancing that holds you in place, warmth pooling between your legs before you finally speak, your voice sounding far less stable than you’d like. “Deal.”

A devilish smirk makes its way across Beetlejuice’s features, and he puts his hand out to shake on it. Even when he’s taking charge, it seems he can’t help but still be at least a little bit of a dork about it. You reach out to take his offered hand and he squeezes your own with more force than necessary before moving both of your hands up and down emphatically. Satisfied, he lets you go for the moment. “Your ten seconds begin now.”

It’s not even a question when you tear off towards the living room, through the kitchen door which swings aimlessly behind you due to the rush of your swift exit. Behind you, you can hear harsh laughter growing distant as you run. Your eyes quickly search your surroundings as you sprint carefully across the length of the dining room (at least, as much as you can safely sprint in this darkness). The house has only so many rooms, but is quite spread out and full of potential objects to conceal yourself behind, or under. The problem is, you have mere seconds to get into place and your brain is currently mixed up in a swirling whirlpool of arousal and pure prey drive that is greatly affecting your ability to locate a proper hiding space. You have no idea if it’s been one second or nine seconds by the time you reach the couch that you had been sitting on not too long ago, and hopelessly try not to lose yourself to panic as you scan the room at light speed. Both the Deetz and Maitland families kept the house fairly free of unnecessary clutter, which on any other day, would be a perk to living in their shared house. Not so much when a demon is hunting you.

Just as you’re starting to get overwhelmed by the feeling that you’ve lost before you’ve even begun, you notice that there’s a small space between one of the living room sofa chairs and the wall that would probably be just big enough for you to squeeze behind. Having no other option readily available, you practically hurl yourself into the crevice. You harshly smack your right forearm on the armrest of the cushioned chair on the way down but pay it no mind, draping a blanket that had been sitting on the lap of the chair to hang slightly over your head so as to better conceal yourself. Just as you finish adjusting your hiding place, you hear the door to the kitchen slam with terrifying power.

“Oho, my little breather, don’t you know that the quickest way to get a predator to chase you is to run?” His voice is ice cold yet tinged with a bit of humor, but whatever the joke is, you’re clearly not in on it. He’s laughed at you plenty before, but it’s usually benign and lightly teasing, not the hissing, cruel laughter that seems to encircle and taunt you now. You hear footsteps begin to fall, loud stomps that seem to echo through the room and make it difficult to pinpoint which direction he’s headed. That is, until they start to head distinctly closer.

You try to calm your breathing, which is still heavy and labored due to your mad dash from the kitchen. Your racing heart certainly isn’t doing you any favors in this regard, only adding to your stifled gasps for air. You put a hand over your own mouth, doing your best to quiet your stupid human noises as the sound of your demon’s footsteps grow closer and closer. Even as you do, you feel your lungs greedily pleading for more air than you can currently offer, and breathing through your nose does little to quiet your body’s demands. As you sit in your makeshift nest like a quail trying not to startle and take flight, the realization dawns on you much too late that you have been fighting a losing battle. This wasn’t a fair deal, it was a game, and this game was clearly stacked in his favor. You should’ve know you can’t hide from a demon in his own house, not when he hadn’t even put a time limit on the deal! You mentally berate yourself for being so foolish, getting tricked into playing a game that could never be won. Or maybe he didn’t really trick you; maybe on some level, you knew you wanted to lose to him, before losing yourself in him. A deal with a devil you were destined to regret from the start. These thoughts buzz around your mind incessantly, feeling louder than your heartbeat and heavy breathing combined.

A feral growl snaps you from your mind’s tangent, so close to your hiding spot and yet not quite on top of it yet. “It’s no use, I can smell you.” You heard him audibly sniff the air. “Hmm, you smell like fear, the fear of someone who knows just how outmatched and, well, how fucked they really are, but it’s all mixed up with the smell of your lust. I’d never mistake that combination in a million human lifetimes. So sweet, so perfect, you’re making me drool here, doll…”

Your treacherous heart quickens at his words, and you pray that he can’t hear it pounding away in your chest. You’re internally pleading for the pouring rain outside to mask any smaller sounds that you make, but you don’t count on any favors from the universe today.

“Hmm…” You can hear the smile in his voice, and the implications of this worry you greatly. “You know, you act like you’re so mature and unknowable compared to me, but I can read you like a book. I can smell how wet you are for me, how much you’ve been absolutely gagging for it since last night. Y’know, I’m kinda shocked you didn’t just fingerblast yourself on the couch like a needy little whore after I made you wait so long. I know you wanted to. Bet you couldn’t think about anything else all night.”

You feel your face completely flush, biting down on the hand that you’ve been using for covering your mouth to keep from making any sound. He thinks he can get me to break by his words alone, but he’s wrong. I’m not going down that easily. After speaking, you notice that his stomping footsteps have halted, as though he’s standing frozen with his ears pricked up to listen for you to falter. You hold steady, difficult as it is. Without warning, a loud CRASH rings out, making you jolt in place. For a moment, your brain registers it as a thunderclap, before quickly realizing that Beetlejuice had in fact violently flipped over some large piece of furniture in the living room, uprooting it in his search for you. Or just to frighten you. Take your pick.

“I’m starting to get impatient with you, little bird,” he snarls, pacing around the large room and forcefully pushing away seemingly anything that finds itself in his path. “The longer you make me wait, the worse it’ll be when I eventually catch you. And I will catch you. You can’t hide from a demon for very long.” As he speaks, you hear another sound ever so faintly, but one that immediately makes you press your thighs together painfully. The unmistakable sound of Beetlejuice roughly pumping his own cock. It’s increasingly evident that he might be getting off on this even more than you are, which is quite a feat.

You suppress a pleasurable shudder, as well as the desire to join him. Your thighs rub together in a sad attempt to find friction, instead just making you feel more like a desperate caged animal. You hear him let out a small moan from across the room, and can’t help the way that your breath hitches in your throat before coming out as the smallest whine, barely crossing the threshold of your parted lips against your will before you hurriedly clamp your mouth down around it. Even so, you hear Beetlejuice’s various noises immediately stop all at once, before he begins stalking in your direction again. Every footstep that falls on the floor feels as though it’s signaling your end, a dark shadow creeping closer that is just barely visible on the ground and wall to your side, outside of the chair and blanket’s cover. In a surprising moment of clarity, you realize that he will find you within seconds and that you, at this very moment alone, have a jumpstart on choosing whether to fight, flight, or freeze your way out of this situation. Freezing won’t do you any good, and there’s no way you can overpower him, so you resolve to flee to a different part of the house the moment that he spots you. You hope that you can take him by surprise and make him pause long enough to make it out of eyesight and into another hiding spot. It’s not much, but it’s really all you can think of right now.

Before you can make any other considerations, it happens. The chair that was protectively in front of you one moment is completely gone in the next, tossed aside recklessly without even being touched. You’re metaphorically naked to the open air, and without so much as sparing a glance at your monster, you leap away from the wall as though you were shot out of a cannon and sprint full force towards the nearby staircase. You hear a sound of surprise behind you but don’t dare to look back, reaching out to grab onto the handrail before you begin bounding up the stairs, taking two at a time. As you reach the first platform and prepare to turn the corner to climb higher, you hear a loud SLAM that shakes the entire house around you. You turn your head towards the sound on instinct, and see in your peripheral vision that Beetlejuice just rammed his entire body sideways and shoulders-first into the wall at the bottom of the stairs due to how fast and recklessly he was pursuing you, like an animal that forgets to control its speed during a hunt and overshoots its leap. Within the blink of an eye, he’s crouched at the bottom of the stairs in a posture that strikes your fleeing brain as odd, before he begins crawling up the stairs on all fours at alarming speeds, bounding upwards and coming right at you. You swiftly round the corner to the higher set of stairs as he scrambles upwards, but you can tell he’s gaining on you at a pace that makes your stomach drop.

You haul yourself up the last few stairs and into the hallway that most of the bedrooms connect to. It’s a long, narrow hall with multiple doors branching off of it and an impressively tall, lovely gothic window at the end of the hall that stretches nearly from floor to ceiling and beautifully frames the rain, which is still pouring down torrentially outside and running down the glass in thick racing streams. You distantly recognize that your plan to get out of his sight and hide will not be panning out, so you quickly pivot to a new, much worse plan: get to your room and lock the door. Certainly, that will keep the monster out.

With no time to lose, you book it towards your closed door at the very end of the hallway, placed just to the right of the large window. You try to ignore the sound of an inbound demon close behind you, your feet carrying you as fast as they’re able. The hallway seems to stretch unnaturally long in front of you, and you wonder if this is one of Beetlejuice’s illusions or if your brain is just playing tricks on you in your escape. You’re trapped running endlessly as the rain in front of you buffets itself against the window, as though it too was trying to come in and attack you, until finally, your outstretched hand makes contact with your doorknob and moves to turn the knob. It jiggles rigidly against your twisting hand. Locked.

In that moment, you feel clawed hands grab your shoulders and force you down to the ground. You land solidly but not painfully, your face being firmly pushed up against the impeccably clean wood flooring. You struggle against Beetlejuice, but he answers by pressing his entire body against your backside forcefully. Your torso fully pinned down, you instinctively kick your legs and try to bend your arms backwards in an attempt to grab or push him off. Your hand finds his own arm that is braced against the floor, fruitlessly grabbing onto and pulling at it to offset his balance, but finding out very quickly just how strong he truly is. After letting you exert yourself trying to push and pull his arms with both hands, he grabs both of your wrists in one swift motion and holds them both behind your back, trapping you fully in place as you feel his hard cock press up against your ass through your clothes. A mean cackle rings out behind you, where you cannot see. You feel his cold breath wrap itself around your ear.

“Aw, aren’t you so cute trying to get away from me? But what’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in the dark? Aren’t you worried that something in here might eat you alive?” His voice and breath are making your head spin, and Beetlejuice only adds to your dizziness when he decides to flip you over without warning to look at him. The large window looms high above his figure, the low light from the storm giving you just enough natural light to see details in his face now. The gleeful madness in his eyes makes your hips twitch uselessly, pinned under his full weight as he moves to better straddle you. Though he still has his usual clothes on, his cock is out and fully erect against your thigh, already wet with precum from when he was shamelessly touching himself during the hunt. “Although, you might like the thought of a demon eating you alive more than you’d care to admit, hm? You wouldn’t have agreed to my game otherwise.”

You let out a quiet groan as his hands crawl up to the hem of your shirt collar, and before you can register what he’s doing, his claws are shredding the entire shirt from top to bottom in one swift motion. The fabric tears with a salaciously loud ripping sound, revealing your chest underneath, and Beetlejuice responds by quickly bringing his mouth to your newly-exposed skin. He keeps slowly sliding the fabric off of you bit by bit with his claws, until it’s completely off of your body and his teeth begin to bite down on your collarbone. You gasp and writhe against him, shaking as his sharp teeth tease at breaking the skin of your tender flesh. He alternates between soft nibbles at your throat to harsher bites where your neck and shoulders meet, keeping you on your toes as he ravishes your half-naked body. You feel his hand come up to play with your nipples, pinching and rolling them under his clawed fingers in a way that makes your back arch under him. Noticing your reaction, he moves his head down and sticks his forked tongue out to slowly drag it across your other nipple. After all of this buildup, you feel as though you’re already on the edge before he’s even taken your shorts off.

“F-fuck, Beetlejuice…” You reach your hand up to become tangled in his messy hair as usual, until his own hand catches yours by the wrist right before you can touch him.

“Watch it with my name tonight, babes,” he hisses. There’s a darkness shrouding his face right now since he’s facing away from the low light of the stormy window, his hungry expression sparking a hurricane of its own in you. “And don’t think you can try your usual tricks and turn me into your bitch again. You were mean to me and lost my game, so now you’re my bitch tonight.” He leans down to purr his next words into the side of your neck. “How’s that feel?” Before you can answer, he’s biting into the soft flesh, tongue peeking out to get a taste of your skin, and possibly a few drops of blood.

You practically mewl at his ministrations, a deeply humiliating sound that you didn’t even know you could make. If that’s a sign of what’s to come tonight, I don’t know whether to be excited or scared. I feel like I’m learning to do both at the same time really well, though.

Beetlejuice pauses his lapping at your neck to flash you a smug, knowing look. “Already need it that bad, babes? You’re so cute. Want me to go ahead make you cum for me right now?” His voice still has that unearthly quality to it, a low undertone beneath his words that turns you on more than you’d care to admit as it rumbles through your entire body and sends bursts of electricity up your spine.

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?” His eyes glimmer with joyful control. Fast learner.

“Please,” you choke out, grinding your hips upwards to try and find friction against his towering form.

Beetlejuice puts a finger up to his lips in mock thought. “Hmm, lemme think about it…uh, no.” He laughs at whatever expression immediately takes over your face at these words. “I really enjoyed hearing you ask nicely though!” If his cruel laughter isn’t enough, his cock rubbing against your thigh makes it all too obvious how much he’s reveling in being able to turn your own words against you.

“Y-you’re a dick…” You can barely spit the words out without your voice wavering and betraying your true feelings.

His eyes narrow at you, smile unchanged. “Oh-ho, am I now? And what if I left you tied up without touching you for hours on end, just a pent-up, whining mess, stuck here with nothing to fill you up? If I’m a dick now, what would I be then?” He looks up with faux thoughtfulness. “Hm, well, I guess I’d be whatever you are, since that’s basically what you did to me.” His word delivery is sharp enough to cut, but you can read his tone well enough to tell that he’s not genuinely angry about the whole situation, he wouldn’t be so willing to play with you if he was. Definitely sexually frustrated enough to add some fire to his words, though.

“Do you want me to say sorry? Because I’m not sorry.” Pushing your luck with Beetlejuice is like an extreme sport to you at this point.

The demon chuckles darkly. “Give it time.” Moving on quickly, he stands up above you, clothes suddenly vanished from his body in the blink of an eye. “Up, my little marionette.”

With a slight flick of his fingers, your body is pulled up into a kneeling position in front of where he stands. It feels as if your body is being held taut by invisible strings, the position not fully uncomfortable, but not quite how you’d settle yourself if you were in control here. Clearly, you are not.

Beetlejuice coos at you, as much as he’s able to with his warped voice. “Aww, not what you were expecting? Did you think I was just gonna fuck you right away after all that? Somebody forgot about my promises to use them for myself if I caught them.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you had the self control to actually do any- use me…!” If you could slap a hand over your mouth, you would. You settle for snapping your jaw shut immediately, a bewildered expression surely plastered on your face. Your cheeks burn hot as you realize what you just said, or rather, what you were made to say. If the breathy tone that was sorely missing your own personal inflection on the words didn’t tip you off, Beej’s shit-eating grin above you would have. Not only do you not have control of your body, but your voice is his to play with as well.

“What’s that, my little breather? You really want me to use you?” His voice takes on another tone, one of somebody playing pretend, like how someone would pretend to talk to a toy in a game. It doesn’t talk long to realize that you’re essentially reduced to a living, breathing doll for him in this moment. Demeaning as it is, you shamefully clock that you’re weirdly into it, but you wouldn’t share this with him right now even if you could.

Your feel your mouth twist with words that come as a surprise to you upon leaving your lips yet again. “Yes, oh, please use me, BJ…! You’re so sexy, so handsome, such a big, strong demon…I wanna make you cum so many times that I lose count, I wanna be yours to use forever, I don’t even care if I get to cum at all, I don’t deserve to for being so mean to you!” Your hands run down your sides seductively of their own accord as your mouth finishes its speaking. It feels a bit silly to do, but you don’t really have much say in it at the moment, and Beetlejuice doesn’t seem to care if it’s a bit over-the-top from the way drool is currently pooling at the corners of his mouth. None of the words that you moaned out really belonged to you, but you kinda like that you can say such obscene things and just blame it on him later. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t onboard with most of them already, aside from that last statement.

Beetlejuice laughs, licking his lips with a forked tongue. “Aw, aren’t you just a good little toy?” He takes a step towards you, his dick bobbing at eye level in front of you, seemingly a bit larger than usual and…is that ribbing? Yes, you definitely aren’t mistaken, his cock has ridges crawling up all sides, swirling around in mesmerizing patterns that reach up to his swollen head. Some jut out like small, dull spikes, while others are more like closely-placed ribbed lines that remind you of a winding path. Your eyes widen at the discovery as your head leans in expectantly, and this time, you’re not sure if it was you or him that initiated that movement. To test your level of control, you try to roll your shoulders experimentally, and they obey without issue. With this, you can confidently conclude that you at least have a bit of influence over your upper half, though your legs are still forced firmly into a kneeling position.

Before you can do anything yourself with this discovery, his hand reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair and your heart rate immediately quickens in your chest. His grip is forceful but meticulous as he pulls your head forward even more, claws scratching at your scalp in a way that makes you heartbeat drop to the space between your thighs. His impatient guidance makes his neediness apparent, and you grin up at him through your eyelashes. Before he can say anything about how long you’re taking, you open your mouth and lean in to slowly lick his cock from base to tip, selfishly drinking in the shudder that you’re able to pull from him. Even when he’s supposed to be your monster, you can still find your own little ways of asserting dominance. Beetlejuice always runs chilly, but his cock feels even more so than usual, to the point where you would describe it as actively cold, though not enough to be uncomfortable. The ridges feel strange but not unpleasant against your tongue as you go in for another taste, and you shiver to think about how they would feel inside of your wet cunt. You move to mouth and kiss at his length teasingly, purposefully not giving him all of the stimulation he so clearly wants right away.

The grip on your hair tightens to the point of stinging. “If you’re not gonna do it right, I can just do it myself,” he hisses, panting above you with a poisonous glare aimed down at you below. You hardly have time to register how pretty he looks when he’s mad before he’s changed his position and begins fucking into your mouth at an absolutely brutal pace. Your eyes shoot open in shock as his hand holds your head securely in place by a fistful of hair, forcing you to breathe through your nose as he thrusts in and out of your mouth. It’s desperate, and frustrated, and monstrous. It’s exactly what he promised you. The extra size and new textures make his dick feel even more thick than usual in your mouth, and you marvel at the fact that you’re even able to fit as much of it inside as you currently are. Your eyes water as you try to suppress your gag reflex when he hits the back of your throat once, twice, three times. On the fourth time, it’s too much to fight and you gag, causing him to pause mid-thrust and look down at you quizzically. “Too much for you already, babes?” His voice is far too cheery for your taste, and his imposing form leers over you with bemused intrigue.

You tightly shake your head no, mouth too full at the moment to say any words even if your brain was capable of forming them.

Beetlejuice barks out a laugh, lightning pouring through the window to momentarily frame his facial features, all crinkled in amusement. “Ah, this is why I love you, doll. You just don’t know when to quit.” He pulls his cock from your mouth with an emphatic pop and you instead feel the unseeable pull of your limbs by his influence once again. Except, this time, he has a hold on all of you but your mouth and eyes. “But y’know, anything you can do, I can do better.”

Your body lurches forward without your permission, your right hand wrapping itself around the base of Beetlejuice’s cock and beginning to pump up and down his entire length. Meanwhile, your left hand chooses to come up to cup his balls, fondling and massaging at a separate pace. It might’ve been difficult to keep each hand’s motion and pace straight, if not for the fact that you were currently being possessed by a demon to do it. It was not unlike being asked to pat your head and rub your stomach, except that you don’t actually have to put any work into it at all and also you are having sex. Your mental comparisons are interrupted by your head positioning itself over his cock, lips parting to take him in and promptly closing to form a vacuum seal around him. Once your mouth is on him, you feel the pull of your demon’s power begin to bob your head up and down as much of his length as you’re able. Your hands continue their work, but your right hand pumps only the area between the base of his shaft and the lowest point that your lips can reach. Your ministrations continue at a fast and unwavering speed, and if your brain wasn’t completely overtaken by lust, you would be impressed with how efficiently he’s been able to turn you into his perfect little blowjob machine. You can feel that this is a persuasive but breakable possession, and it’s endearing to know that he left you an out so you could break his tether to you if you needed to. But deep down, you know you won’t be testing that ability out right now, not when he’s making such pretty noises above you.

Your eyes, maybe one of the only things still under your easy control, flit up to look at him as your mouth and hands continue their work. Beetlejuice looks down at you through lidded eyes, his concentration obviously torn between possessing you and getting his cock worked so thoroughly. His hair is a messy fire on his head, all red and fuchsia twisted together like a beautiful mixing of watercolors on a soft, shaggy canvas. He lets out an unsteady exhale above you, obviously very close, but trying to hide his usual whines and whimpers that would signal he was approaching the edge. Instead, he opts for a shaky moan from deep within his chest, unable to hold back as he begins to thrust up into your mouth to meet your lips as they come down. Just as it’s all starting to become a bit overwhelming, he shudders above you with a muffled high-pitched sound, and your movements become sloppy and ungraceful all at once as he finishes in your mouth. You could move off of his cock if you wanted to, but instead, you stay in place and greedily catch as much of his cum in your mouth as you can, shivering at how surprisingly cold it feels as you swallow it down your throat. It shouldn’t have been that shocking considering how extra chilly his dick had been, but you’re still taken aback by the temperature as you suck him dry, the slight sweetness still ever-present. Eventually, his dick stops twitching, and the demon above you seems to be quietly coming back down after his orgasm before he erupts into a guttural growl.

“Not enough, not enough,” Beetlejuice snarls, partially to himself and partially at you. “You made me wait so goddamn long, now it’s still not enough.” He squeezes his eyes shut and rakes a clawed hand through his hair, pushing it back from his furrowed brow as he vigorously shakes his head back and forth in frustration, growling and murmuring to himself. You hold yourself very still, watching silently as he seems to argue with himself about something internally. After a moment of thought, his eyelids flutter open again and he slowly turns his gaze onto you. His dark brown eyes look to be on the verge of crazed, the slits of his pupils moving down from meeting your own eyes to leer at your half-naked body. You manage to catch the way his pupils blow out wide as he continues to undress you with his eyes, despite the darkness making him seem very much like a moving shadow whenever the lightning outside pauses. Despite having cum just moments ago, he has the look of a ravenous man staring at a feast.

You sit back on your haunches, looking up at his pretty face with mock innocence. “Not enough, huh? What’re you gonna do about it?”

Beetlejuice can’t hide his grin at your insolence. “Patience, little bird. There’s really no need to goad me on, I’m not nearly done playing with you yet.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the irony of him telling you to be patient, ignoring the fact that your stomach is currently filled with butterflies at his words. His strings of control now fully dissipated, he steps forward with a renewed power and looks you over with a fanged smirk. He looks for a moment as though he wants to say something, but instead, he moves to crouch down to your level and crashes his lips against yours. The kiss rocks you to your core, all tongue and teeth on his end, which you do your best to imitate. In the end, it’s only more clear how horribly outmatched you currently are, his strength and demonic features easily overpowering your pathetic human body. As he shoves his forked tongue into your mouth roughly, you are struck by the chilling realization that every time you’ve been taking control up until now, it’s only because Beetlejuice has been letting you. The thought is enough to make you clench tightly around nothing, aching with desire.

After he’s satisfied with the kiss, he pulls back from your lips and reaches down to grab your legs by the calves, pulling them out from under you in one swift motion and making you fall backwards onto your butt with an undignified thump. He settles himself between your legs, grabbing the soft skin on the inner sides of your knees and spreading them wide to make room for his larger form. He continues to spread so far that you can feel your hamstrings stretching, a dull but satisfying ache in your muscles as they tighten at their limit. Once he’s carved a space for himself, Beetlejuice slowly begins to crawl his hands upwards from where they rest by your knees along your inner thighs, his claws lightly skating across your sensitive skin. You squirm and giggle lightly at the sensation, simultaneously too much and not enough. He finally reaches the bottom of your shorts and, wasting no time, shreds through the fabric as if it were tissue paper. The pieces of what used to be your shorts fall pathetically from your body, no longer recognizable anything but scraps anymore. As they fall off, you recognize with surprise that your underwear was also fully ripped off of you in the same movement, fluttering down to the floor in tattered pieces and leaving you fully naked.

Beetlejuice’s monstrous persona drops ever so slightly as he can’t quite hide the sheepish expression that finds its way onto his face. “Oh, oops? Overshot that. Hope those weren’t your favorite pair or anything.” He gets over his moment with a devious chuckle and is quickly back to studying your fully exposed body, all spread out in front of him and ready to be devoured. “Gotta make sure you’re ready to take me, strictly business here, y’know. Try not to moan like a bitch in heat too much. ‘S embarrassing for you.” As he’s speaking, you watch Beetlejuice lift his right hand and slowly retract the claws of his index and middle finger until they’re completely gone, only his regular short black nails where the claws once were. Without leaving you any time to make a snarky comment, he’s plunging them into your entrance.

“Ah…!” You keen as you finally receive the stimulation you’ve been craving all night, even if it is so much all at once. When the shock of him pressing into you quickly fades, it’s only immediately replaced by another, even more jarring shock: his fingers are ice cold inside of you. You yelp, unsure whether to pull away or beg him to push them farther inside. His unnaturally chilly fingers are curling against your walls, making your hips stutter and eyes squeeze shut as you try to steady yourself from the sensory overload.

“Aww, what’s the matter?” he coos with a sickly sweet smile, sticking a third finger inside of your pussy. You arch your back and whine desperately in response. “You look kinda conflicted there, babes…too cold for you?”

You wrestle for control of your words. “N-no,” you eventually spit out at him. It’s a sad attempt at lying to a very perceptive demon.

Beetlejuice grins. “You’re a stubborn little breather, aren’t you?” He keeps rubbing against the spot that has you seeing stars like he owns it. “That, or you’re just a freak who gets off on everything I do. Because I honestly did this to be an asshole, but you are definitely liking it way more than I expected. I can see it in your cute little face.” You tighten around his fingers as he speaks. “Heh, and that too.”

“Fuck off…” It’s a new kind of embarrassing to have Beetlejuice call you a freak for getting off on something, but honestly, that just gets you off even more, proving his point. You rock your hips up to meet him, unable to hold back your little gasps as you do. You’re trapped between pleasure and pain, the cold refusing to ebb as he continues fingering you roughly. You squirm helplessly under the seemingly endless barrage of conflicting sensations.

His left hand is suddenly on your lower belly, pressing down to keep you in place. “Quit fuckin’ moving, or I’m gonna tie you down,” he growls, not letting up on his pace as he chastises you.

“Hold me down yourself,” you moan, and the words are out before you even get a chance to think. Those were definitely your own words, though.

The demon’s eyes light up immediately. “Ohh, I see, you want me to hold you down and fingerfuck you ‘til you beg for mercy? Well, if that’s what you want.”

He’s behind you in the blink of an eye, erection fully hard once again if the way it presses up against your naked back is any indication. He grabs both of your wrists in one hand and lifts them up and back to wrap around his neck, still bound together tightly. It’s almost a romantic pose, with your body reclined back against his and your arms holding his head close to your body, his nose pressed into your neck and beard prickling against it as well. His free hand snakes around your waist to press your torso even closer against him before returning his fingers to your dripping cunt. The freezing pleasure returns, a feeling you had been dreading and felt so empty without. He’s pumping his fingers into you at the same quick pace, picking up right where he left off. He presses into your clit with his thumb, chuckling darkly at the cry you let out as he starts rubbing teasing circles into it.

“G-gonna cum…” Your humiliating whimpers only seem to encourage him into moving faster.

“Yeah? You close? I bet you are. You’ve been so wet all night…I could smell it, got all mixed up in my head, wanted to pin you down and take you so bad for hours…” Beetlejuice’s chin is resting on your shoulder, and his long tongue slips out to slither down at your neck and to your chest again. It’s like a prehensile appendage with how it moves and wraps itself around your nipples, but with such a light ghost of a touch against your hard buds that it causes goosebumps to spread themselves across your entire chest. You’d be defiantly squirming against him if not for the fact that your body was being held completely immobile by the demon. His wrist and strong forearm press insistently against your stomach and pubic region, keeping you locked in place with his otherworldly strength. Instead, you just allow the needy sounds to pour out of your mouth, unable to focus on anything besides how utterly and deliciously trapped you are and how fast your orgasm is approaching due to his dexterous fingers. You feel yourself cresting that final hill before he sends you crashing over the peak, your body attempting to fuck yourself down onto his fingers even harder despite your trappings. You can’t see him as your orgasm rocks your body, but you hear him hmph approvingly behind you and can easily imagine the smarmy look on his face at how much he can make you come undone with his hands alone.

You’re still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm when Beetlejuice swiftly disappears from behind you and reappears with his head between your legs, giving you no time to react before his mouth is between your legs, licking and sucking loudly. You squeal at the pleasure flooding your senses again so soon and squeeze your legs together involuntarily in reaction.

Beetlejuice lifts his head a bit with a hazy smile. “Sorry babes, couldn’t help myself. Just needed a little taste…” You whine as he sucks at your clit forcefully to punctuate his words before pulling his body back up to kneel in front of you. “But I do think you’re just about ready for me after that.”

“Please…” you muster, your head swimming with pleasure. You’re not even completely sure what you’re begging for, but your demon seems to enjoy it.

“Aren’t you so good for me, my little breather? Even when I’m using you for myself, so adorable…” He grabs your chin with his thumb and the forefinger that was pumping inside of you moments ago, appraising whatever expression is plastered on your face and holding your head in place. “It’s not gonna make me be any nicer to you, but it’ll probably make me fill you up faster.” Wasting no time, he pulls back from your face and begins to line his cock up with your entrance.

His words make you realize how quickly Beetlejuice was able to get you to roll over and play nice for him. It’s truthfully embarrassing the speed at which you folded, especially after the multiple times that you’ve teased him now for doing the exact same thing. Maybe he’s right, you’re more like him than you thought. This line of thought passing into your mind reignites your defiant spirit almost instantly.

“Y’know, for all that talk, you kinda suck at being mean to me.” It’s hard to keep the corners of your lips from being pulled upwards when he slowly tilts his head at your words in disbelief. “The meanest thing you could think to do is make me cum my brains out around your somewhat-chilly fingers. Kinda sweet for an evil demon, that’s all. Can’t bring yourself to do any worse?”

Beetlejuice’s cute expression of positive bewilderment begins melting into one of resolve mixed with pure, carnal desire. “You make such terrible decisions sometimes, it’s so fuckin’ hot.” He punctuates this statement by thrusting his cock up into you, stealing the next witty retort from your lips and leaving only a breathy gasp in its absence. It’s an intense stretch over his morphed length, and even after being worked open by his fingers, the sudden penetration is more than enough to shut you up as you adjust. He grabs your neck, firmly enough to tilt your head as he pleases. “I’m gonna eat you alive, little bird.”

You meet his blazing-hot gaze readily. “Promise?”

Beetlejuice grins as he chooses for once to let his actions do the talking, his only response being to start fucking into you at a quick and steady pace. His cock is clearly bigger than usual, but still fits without issue after the first stretch. You note that it’s the texture that makes the experience just as unique and fantastic as you’d hoped, his ridges rubbing against your walls as though they were designed to pleasure you specifically (and for all you know, this could be absolutely true). The cold remains a common factor throughout the encounter, and one that you certainly don’t hate, despite its initial purpose. The cold spreads out from your core to crawl all over your body, reminding you just how much influence he has over you. It’s all so strange and wonderful and it’s having no trouble in making you see stars already.

Your back is pressed firmly against the floor, giving you another beautiful view of Beetlejuice framed in front of the tall window as he sets a rhythm with his motions. Lightning highlights the outline of his frame every few seconds, visibly straining as he tries to give you more without losing himself in you completely. You try to take a second and memorize how pretty his face is in this moment, really commit everything here to memory. The way his eyebrows knit together as he works at opening you up, biting at his lip with sharp fangs that you assume must hurt, but he gives no indication if it does. The hand that was lightly gripping at your throat loses its solid grip as his fingers stretch out and stroke down your neck, his palm spreading wide and coming to rest directly above your heart, claws resting along the length of your collarbone. Every thrust into you, every touch of his hands on your warm skin, it’s all so maddening and cruel and perfect all at once.

His eyes peek open slightly and flit to your face, lids still half-covering the pools of dark brown. “Quit lookin’ at me all sweet like that, you’re the one who said you wanted rough mean monster sex.”

“Sorry,” you breathe, averting your eyes from his lovely visage to get back into character but unable to hide the way the corners of your lips curl up fondly.

“You’d better be.” He huffs with a smirk, before putting the charm back on. “Now, you said you could keep up with a demon, so let’s see if you were right or if I can make a liar outta you tonight.” He practically spits the word “liar,” clearly both something you should be ashamed of being and something that you desperately want him to prove that you were when you said that. He moves both of his hands down to your hips for leverage, grabbing onto the skin so forcefully that you’re certain it’ll leave a bruise. With you secure in his grasp, he’s holding your lower half steady so he can keep you perfectly in place while he fucks you, an anchor to you for your monster.

Still riding off the high of your recent first orgasm, you can feel your second building already at an exponential rate. You gasp as your walls clench around him, tightening around his cock as it keeps brushing against just the right spot inside of you, the ridges doing everything right for you. Before you know it, you’re already cumming around his dick, the squelches of him continuing to fuck you through your orgasm sounding utterly obscene with how wet you are for him. You ride it out with small moans and praises pouring from your lips, until the fountain of your words begins to run dry as he continues to fuck you at the same unwavering pace.

“You just came again? Okay, well, I haven’t cum again yet, so you can just be fuckin’ patient.” You feel that dawning horror that you’ve been waiting so long for wash over you as you realize that he does not in fact plan on giving you any semblance of a break here. Instead, he grabs both of your thighs and pushes them up to fold back on top of your body, removing the obstacle for him and ending with you opening yourself even wider for him.

“B-Beetlejuice,” you gasp, the overstimulation beginning to take hold as the last of your previous orgasm ebbs away, causing you to shudder and twitch involuntarily as he refuses to let up in his motions. “I’m so- FUCK!” Your words are unable to leave your tongue as his mouth begins biting at your neck insistently. His mouth moves with no rhythm compared to his thrusts, all wild instinct with no discernible pattern as he kisses and bites from your collarbone to your jawline, savoring the taste of you and the sounds you make at the overwhelming, overlapping sensations.

“You say something, babes? Couldn’t quite hear ya…” He switches it up by nibbling along your throat before ending his trail with a harsh bite to the side of your neck. “Were you gonna say that I was right and that I’m too much for your little human body to handle?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of his teeth on you. “Shit, I take it back, you really are evil.” He would be the one to make sex into a competition. A game, your mind chimes in to correct you. Always the games with him. You have been quite the fan of his rigged games tonight, why change your tune now when he’s ruining you so well? “Don’t you dare stop.”

Your words make him chuckle and become only rougher in his movements. “Gonna fill you up,” Beetlejuice pants as his teeth graze the tip of your ear, clearly on the edge himself. “Gonna cum inside you ‘til you can’t take anymore. Bet you’d like that. Bet you wanna have my cum dripping out of your needy little cunt for days.” Your answer comes out as nothing more than a strangled, horny sound, but it seems to get your agreement across as the demon grins wildly, his thrusts becoming erratic as his eyes are flooded with pure desire looking down at you. His head falls to rest on your shoulder as he continues, and you can feel him mouthing something into your skin, but it takes a few moments before you can make out what he’s saying, faint as a whispered prayer. “Mine, mine, mine.” He punctuates each word with a forceful thrust, your heart somehow finding a way to race even faster at this realization. His final utterance of the word is choked into a shaky moan halfway through, his predictably yet still shockingly cold cum filling you to the brim in the best way. It’s way more than you expected, pumping inside of you at high speeds and completely filling you with him. If your mind were a bit sharper right now, you’d probably marvel at just how much there is, you can tell just by feel the practically obscene amounts that are leaking out of your entrance and onto the floor. You close your eyes for a moment to try and bring yourself back to Earth. Your muscles burn with exertion, and you can’t stop the full-body tremors that keep wracking your smaller frame. Not that you have enough energy to even attempt to suppress them.

You don’t have more than a moment’s rest before you feel something cool and slightly wet rubbing against your leg, and you crack open your eyes and see a thick, black and white appendage prodding at you. The striped extremity crawls over your body slowly, caressing your outer thigh before stretching itself over you to pet at your inner thigh as well, wrapping you up in its grasp. You can only think to respond with a perplexed gaze at the thing before looking up at Beetlejuice inquisitively.

He looks all too proud of himself above you, the appendage clearly sprouting from him, more specifically, somewhere behind him…his back perhaps, but it’s hard to tell in this lighting. “Hey, I’ve never shown you my tentacles, have I? At least, I haven’t shown you what they can really do…” When your gaze looks back down, two more tentacles have joined the first, stroking and caressing at your slick flesh.

“B-Beetlejuice, it’s too much, I don’t know if I can…” Your body is simultaneously crying out for rest yet also desperately vying for the attention of the tentacles as they rub themselves over your form teasingly.

He actually has the gall to snicker. “Oh come on now, you can take much more than that, don’t be a quitter. Unless…you’re really admitting you can’t keep up with me? That you’re not as unaffected as you might make yourself out to be? That you were wrong and are now in over your little head?” He pokes you in the center of your forehead to emphasize his teasing in the most annoying way possible.

As though immediately possessed by a different sort of force, you feel a second wind rushing into your entire body, filling you with a new, stubborn resolve. “In your dreams, hellspawn.” You meet his eyes obstinately, hoping that your demeanor portrays yourself as less dazed and fucked-out-of-your-mind than you really are right now. In the end, your competitiveness will always win.

He chuckles, looking rather unfazed by your sharp response. “Still got that much of a fighting spirit, huh? Bet I can break that.”

At his command, three more tentacles emerge from behind him and move towards your reclined body. With six of them visible to you now, they move almost hypnotically as they stroke at your skin, all six moving as if of their own free will as they each take to a different task. You feel two wrap around each of your calves, and one more secures your wrists together. They pull you up to sit on your haunches, the cool wood flooring below starting to feel less pleasant than it did when he first caught you and pressed you against it. Your arms are pulled up and over your head, and you simply let them pull your limbs wherever they see fit without fight. You’re perched as though about to ride an invisible dick, and the position makes you very aware of how gravity is causing more of his cum to slowly drip out of you, mixed with your own wetness. The remaining three tentacles prod at your stretched torso, two settling to rub your nipples gently while the other one crawls down toward your hips. You keen at the contact, watching the slick appendages delicately rub over your chest and wondering exactly how much direct control Beetlejuice has over them versus how much they’re piloted by just subconscious desire without direction. Your eyes flicker up to take him in for the first time since being restrained, and his expression is one of a man watching a most riveting show, cartoonish tongue lolling slightly out of his involuntary smile at your current predicament. He’s crouched across from you in a similar yet freer position, mirroring your body but leaning forward to really take it all in. You feel the free tentacle begin to snake its way to your stomach, sending a thrill up your spine as it strokes down, down, down, until it’s right where you need it. You whimper wordlessly at the contact, mind swirling with sensation.

“God, I’m so happy you’re the kind of sick degenerate that’s into this,” Beetlejuice breathes, making you shivers as he tugs at his half-hard cock shamelessly. Despite being well-aware of what BJ told you about demon sex drives, it’s sort of blowing your mind to see him so immediately ready to go like this, again and again, acting as though everything before was nothing more than warm-up. Damn. No wonder he is the way that he is.

Taking you out of your thoughts is the tentacle giving attention to the space between your thighs, its stark black-and-white surface contrasting with your skin beneath it even in the window’s dim light. The tentacles holding your legs spread them wider to make room, and the appendage responds by bringing its tip up to your clit, pressing in gently but with enough pressure to have your body at full attention. Just when you think you’re spent, he’s got you bucking your hips under his touch again, desperate for more of his attention. Beetlejuice seems more than pleased with your reaction.

“I-I can’t believe you’ve held out on me so long,” you gasp, the tentacle dragging itself torturously slow as it traces up and down from your clit to your opening. “I mean, it’s only been like, a week, but that’s practically 1000 years in terms of your patience.” The tentacles stroking your nipples instead tug at them abruptly, swiftly putting you back in your place with a shaky whimper.

Beetlejuice looks at you with half-lidded eyes and a dumb smile. “Aww, I’m so glad to hear ya like ‘em. I didn’t wanna freak you out too soon, but I should’ve known you’d be enough of a whore to just bend over and let me take you however I wanted to.” You keen as you feel the tentacle on your clit move to your entrance, all wet with some nondescript substance that might’ve grossed you out if he showed it to you in any other context. There’s hardly even a stretch compared to his cock as it pushes into you, but it still reaches exactly where it needs to with how dextrous and long it is. “You wanted to be chased. You wanted to be caught. And yeah, I know you wanted to be used. How could you not, when you take it sooooo well?” His lovely purring words rattle around in your head as the tentacle inside of you pumps itself into your clenched core, rubbing exactly where it knows you want it to and making you grit your teeth as though about to go mad. “God, you’re so perfect. Look so fuckin’ pretty right now, don’t know what I did to deserve you. I won’t let you down, I’m gonna milk every orgasm you have out of you and not gonna stop ‘til you’re absolutely ruined, babes. You’re gonna regret asking me to be meaner to you.”

You whine miserably at his words, his own excitement and arousal only amplifying yours. You hump against the tentacle as it keeps up its regular pace, riding it like a cock as much as you can with your arms and legs restrained. Taking another glance at Beetlejuice, you notice that another tentacle had sprouted from his back when you were lost in his words and came down to rest on his own dick, curling itself around the length from base to tip and moving itself up and down rapidly, getting him off as he leans back and watches you intently. You grind yourself down onto the tentacle inside of you harder at this, getting off to the image of him being caressed by his own tentacles just as much as he is for you. He notices you reacting in this way and flashes you a grin, the unmistakable grin of someone who’s all too happy to be ogled. Damn exhibitionist. He then lets out a very familiar whimper, sharply contrasting his dominant front from a moment ago. You could recognize that specific sound anywhere.

“Are you fucking yourself in the ass with your own tentacles?” Your voice is strained, but the tone is somewhere between incredulous and amused.

His whimper melts into a breathy moan, his teeth snapping off the end of the sound by clicking together into a satisfied grin. “You know me so well, doll.” Sure enough, Beetlejuice leans forward and arches his back from where he had been resting on his haunches in front of you, and you can see another tentacle placed behind him that is thrusting up into his ass at a steady speed, the first tentacle continuing to pump his cock at a breakneck pace.

The mere sight of Beetlejuice getting so thoroughly worked by his own tentacles as your own stimulation refuses to let up is pleasurable enough to make you clench tightly around the appendage, your legs shaking as you cum around it and get roughly fucked through your orgasm. You feel your ears ringing as this one rolls out of you in waves, feeling so good and yet so, so much. It takes its time running through your entire body, but as it begins to ebb, you whine as you realize that the tentacles aren’t letting up. They continue to perform their motions like a dutiful machine, rubbing at your nipples, fucking up into your thoroughly used pussy, holding you perfectly in place despite your squirming. You’re still completely open to the appendages, no way to even curl up and hide yourself from their touches.

“Beetlejuice…” you practically sob, overstimulation causing your entire body to shake as the tentacle rubs itself against your g-spot, prodding at you for more as if it doesn’t understand why you’re so spent.

From your position, you can see the demon laugh at your predicament. “Aw, poor little thing. You’ve got about one more in you before you totally break, I bet.” You choke out an anguished sound at his cooing words, plus the fact that the pace of the tentacles hasn’t let up in the slightest, and he regards you with a raised brow. “Color?”

You take in a shuddering breath, knowing that you could easily end things here with a single word. But goddamnit, you are not giving him the satisfaction. You’ll go until exhaustion forcibly takes you if you must, your pride demands it. “Green.”

The unbearably overwhelming sensations are immediately made worth it by the utterly flabbergasted look that crosses your demon’s face, eyes widening as he receives an answer that he clearly didn’t expect. It’s quickly replaced by an impressed little smirk, all lust and pride and amusement wrapped into one sharp smile. “Heh, yep, that’s the breather I fell for. You’re too much of a stubborn little glutton for punishment to quit, just like me. Well, lucky for you, that’s in no short supply right now.” He moves toward you from where he had been leaned back on his haunches, and it’s immediately clear by the spattering of glowing green on his stomach that he himself has cum at least once under the tentacle that continues rubbing at his cock, and you feel a slight twinge of regret that you didn’t get to see his debauched expression as he came. To lift your spirits, you silently file away the idea of having him tied up and forced to cum over and over by his own tentacles while you get to watch as a fun idea for later. For now, Beetlejuice moves up to watch you closer, bringing his body right in front of your trapped form as the tentacles keep working the both of you.

You squirm as much as the restraints and your energy levels allow under his gaze. He’s watching your face intently, as though trying to see something in your slack-jawed expression. Then, you’re tilting backwards, as if doing a trust fall that you have no choice but to trust in as your body leans backwards, knees spread apart but still firmly on the floor as your back stretches tightly. Another tentacle comes to support your neck and back as you continue to be coaxed backwards by your restraints, until your knees lift ever so slightly off of the ground and you’re practically being cradled in a tentacle hammock with your limbs still restrained, but as comfortable as they can be in this situation.

“What a perfect little present all wrapped up for me after that long chase…” Beetlejuice briefly surveys the situation, his patience clearly maxed out by now but perception still sharp as ever as he scans you for any reaction. He must find whatever he’s looking for, because you see only a joyful flash of teeth before he’s biting your inner thigh and ripping more pitiful sounds from your tired throat against your will.

You flinch and whimper a bit at the sudden piercing pain, but you couldn’t move away if you wanted to. In all honesty, you probably couldn’t bring yourself to move even if you weren’t being restrained, not at this point. Another bite to your thigh, slightly gentler and closer to where you need his mouth. You dare a glance down at him and immediately find yourself trying to stifle your tremors and trembling, his firm grasp on you as intoxicating as the image of a demon looking so absolutely possessive between your thighs, in every sense of the word.

His smile is as all-consuming as ever. “And I think I’ll get a better taste of my prey now, heh.” His tongue is pressed against your clit within the second, the entire length of it slipping out of his mouth for nothing more than to rile you up. He knows it will; it did so well the first time, and every time after, and it unsurprisingly works like a charm today too. He laps at you hungrily, his long tongue having already proven itself to be perfect for eating you out. The fact that it now has a perfect little fork at the end only adds to the experience. You’ve simply had to make peace with the fact that his demonic features have completely ruined you for anyone else, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset about that at all. Not right now, when his forked tongue is stroking up and down your clit at the perfect pace, your trapped hands grabbing at the tentacles beneath them for stability as though they were bedsheets. They only tremble and continue to ooze even more as you grip them, a strange but clear sign of pleasure if Beetlejuice’s rumbling groans weren’t obvious enough.

He allows his tongue to wander between your clit and your entrance, and it’s so long that it can reach both spots at once when pressed up against you. He lets a whiny moan slip out as he keeps up the pace. “Fuck…I can taste myself in you…hey, you’re welcome for being so delicious…” Of course he’s still finding a way to brag, even with his mouth busy. You wouldn’t be shocked if he figured out a way to continue working your clit while also tongue fucking you, and then gloat how talented he is at getting you off without changing his pace at all. He’s a talented multitasker, clearly.

You’d normally have a much more eloquent comeback to his boasting comments, but you’re honestly shocked at how much Beetlejuice has absolutely fucked you out of your mind by now. You can barely string together a complete thought, let alone speak a coherent sentence. You feel like you’ve been thoroughly used up, in the best way. From the moment he offered you that deal, you wanted to be defiled by a monster until you’re nothing but a fucked-out little plaything for him to use as he pleases, and he has more than honored that wish. The combination of this thought and the maddening feeling of him lapping at your overstimulated clit is enough to somehow bring you back to the edge again, whining as your muscles tense one final time.

Your body language does not go unnoticed by your monster. “Aw, you gonna cum?” You let out a pathetic whine in response, and he snorts. “Yeah, you would be cumming again. Slut.” He pauses his ministrations to look you in the eye from below, intense lust clouding his pretty eyes. “Say my name, beautiful.”

You practically keen at the sudden denial of stimulation, but do your best to abide. “Beetlejuice…” Your voice is a sinful moan, more shameless and explicit than you’ve ever heard from within yourself. You can’t even bring yourself to feel ashamed or self-conscious about it with how fast Beetlejuice grabs your hips with his sharp claws and thrusts his cock back into you, clearly on the precipice again himself. A few quick, deep thrusts is all it takes for him to be once again filling you up with his load, shaking as he pumps you full of it as though afraid you’d lost too much after the first time he thoroughly bred your cunt. The combination of being so perfectly full of his cum again, the image of the demon holding onto you with both hands and tentacles from above as he finds release, and the feeling of being so completely claimed by the feral monster inside of you is enough to push you over the edge. Your final orgasm tears through you recklessly, just as wild and destructive as the last to your exhausted human body. Waves of tingly pleasure rush through every nerve in your body, clenching and relaxing your muscles as the feeling ebbs and flows throughout your form. Time stands still for you, and you can barely register Beetlejuice pulling out beyond the sensations still rolling through you. As it starts to dissipate, your ears are ringing again and- oh, you can’t see. That’s probably not good. You blink harshly, feeling as though you’re in the aftermath of some kind of explosion to throw off your senses this majorly.

After a few moments of muffled blackness and awful ringing sound, you see bright rays of reality begin to peek through as your body adjusts back to normal. You see a fuzzy image above you, towering over your frame in a way that feels more concerned than menacing, and as the picture begins to clear, you notice the figure’s mouth moving. Your mind returning, you attempt to focus in on what he could be trying to say to you with such a worried little face. Luckily, the world’s sound begins to fade back in as he continues to speak quickly.

“-ey? Hey? C’mon babes, you with me? You’re freakin’ me the fuck out right now, talk to me so I know you’re not heading into the light, please.”

“I’m good,” you murmur, still feeling a bit overwhelmed in coming back to Earth after everything. The tentacles have disappeared in however long it took for your vision to return, and Beetlejuice looks decidedly less monster-y than he did moments ago. The red has all but vanished from his hair, leaving a dusting of dark pink fading into a lighter gradient, with slight yellow streaks of nervousness, and he looks significantly less big and sharp overall as his nervous eyes flicker over your form that sits on the floor below.

Beetlejuice leans down to hold your head to his chest. “Oh, Jesus fuckin’ Christ (Y/N)! You were supposed to say something if it got to be too much!” He pulls back to swiftly look you over. “Gonna give me a heart attack when I’m already dead over here. Jeez.”

You giggle, too exhausted to fully laugh at his antics. “I’m fine, wasn’t too much. A little overwhelming near the end maybe, but I really liked it.”

He snorts. “Well, yeah, that much I could tell. You freaked me out though, I thought I might’ve accidentally factory reset you from fuckin’ ya too rough or something.”

You wave your hand dramatically in a dismissive fashion as you move to sit up, your stomach and thighs shaking with the effort as though you had just finished a particularly brutal set of sit-ups. Well, that’s one way to get in a core workout. “I mean, I’m the one who wanted to try and hold my own against a supernatural being at full power so bad. Dumb mortal physical limitations getting in my way.” You hmph at the idea of human limits, before leaning forward to place your hand on Beetlejuice’s own. “But you did great baby, that was everything I could’ve wanted when you first pitched that idea. I hope it was everything you wanted, too.”

Beetlejuice’s expression softens as he looks at your hand on his own. “Yeah, I had a great time too. Clearly.” His eyes dart down to your utterly spent body almost sheepishly before returning to your own eyes, a shine of strong affection behind his gaze as he speaks in a much more delicate tone. “I really love you a lot. Thanks for bein’ the way you are.” With that, he presses a gentle kiss to your lips, a far cry from the roughness that he embodied minutes ago. It’s so tender that his lips only end up lightly grazing your own, and the feeling of his soft lips moving like a whisper on you is the sweetest of kind thank you’s.

“Anything for my sweet little demon,” you breathe, reveling in the mere closeness of him in this ultra-affectionate state.

Beetlejuice shoots you a cute smile before leaning down to pick up your exhausted body as though it weighs nothing to him. “Oh, and if it’s any consolation, you totally earned bragging rights for lasting that long in the sack. I honestly thought you’d tap out after, like, two rounds, and then we’d cuddle.” He tosses and hoists you up into a more secure position in his arms before he starts walking toward your door.

You grab onto the flesh of his shoulders to steady yourself. “What can I stay? l have a strong force of will when I’m with you.” With just a look from the demon, your previously locked door swings open without a care, and he carries you right into your dark room. You whip around and shoot him an inquisitive look. “Wait, was that you before? The lock?”

“Oh, is it that surprising that I outwitted you?” He moves to bite your shoulder teasingly, now more playful than menacing but still with enough teeth to command your attention.

“Ah…a little.”

One of the hands currently wrapped under your legs slides up to pinch your ass, causing you to yelp and Beetlejuice to laugh. “You may be hot shit in your own mind, but never forget that you’re easy prey to a demon like me, babes.”

***

“Delia-uhhhhhh, when’s the popcorn gonna be ready?” Beetlejuice languishes about on the sofa in front of the TV with no shame, flopping his arms over the side to look towards the kitchen.

You roll your eyes from where you stand behind the couch, then move to swat at his dangling arms playfully. “Don’t be a nuisance unless you’re gonna help, hellspawn.”

A somewhat-frazzled redheaded figure appears in the open doorway to the kitchen. “Now, Beetlejuice, if life is a bank, then patience is a virtue that’s worth investing some of your spare change into!”

He slumps. “You should know metaphors and me don’t mix by now. Oh, and could you please horrifically burn the next bag for me? I like it crispy crunchy.”

“Ugh, and make the whole house stink again? I don’t think so,” Lydia retorts, finding her place on the adjacent single-seater couch and getting cozy, her gothy PJs still keeping her aesthetic together even before bed.

“I don’t expect you to understand fine cuisine, Lyds,” he huffs, crossing his arms petulantly and slouching down into his seat further, making his legs reach all the way to the other end of the couch.

You laugh and lace your finger through his hair from above gently. “Quit taking up a whole sofa by yourself and come help me put snacks into cute little bowls for everyone.”

Like a switch flipped, he’s immediately on his feet and following behind you obediently, his previous body language evaporated. “Coming, dear…!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a bewildered expression from Lydia and could swear you hear her mutter, “Demon whisperer…” to herself in a tone that reads as half-accusatory and half-awestruck as you walk into the kitchen.

As you enter the room, you see Delia at the far side of the long counter furiously stirring a bowl filled with some snack that she must’ve quickly whipped up. “Oh, if you two could just put the popcorn and chips into some of the big sharing bowls while I finish this vegan cheese dip, that would help!”

“Sure can do, Delia,” you respond, opening the high cabinet closest to the door to grab the giant cartoon print snack bowls that everyone likes to use. You hand one off to Beetlejuice and keep one for yourself. “You handle the chips, bug.”

“I wanted to do the popcorn,” he argues back, putting on his brattiest tone.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near the popcorn. I know you.” You shoot him a faux mean look, and he doesn’t even try to hide the smile that spreads across his face. You ignore your desire to give him a kiss and instead, as you hear the popping slowing down on the popcorn within the microwave, open the door and trade it out for another bag. After pressing start, you open the top of the finished bag and pour it into your bowl, which is bright fuchsia and decorated with little cherries. You find your eyes strangely glued to it as you pour.

“It’s better when it’s blackened. That’s how you truly unlock the…complex flavor profile. See, I told you, I really have been watching those cooking shows on TV and learning valuable new things about the art of le chef.” The bag of chips on the counter lift up and begin pouring themselves into his bowl without Beetlejuice so much as looking back at them. Instead, he’s looking right at you as you pour the hot snack in the bowl, the tantalizing smell filling up the whole room. “Something really awesome about your bowl there that I’m not seeing?”

You manage to tear your eyes away from the bowl to look at him, suddenly realizing with mild embarrassment what it had been subconsciously reminding you of that had you so enraptured. “Uh, well, I can’t ever look at this pretty shade of fuchsia in a normal context the same way ever again, so I guess you kinda Pavlov’s dog’d me.” It’s hard to hide the laughter bubbling up in your lowered voice, having to hear yourself admit to something so…ridiculous.

Beetlejuice, on the other hand, seems to view this as much more of a personal victory than a weird observation on your part. He snickers to himself before leaning in close to you flirtatiously. “Oh, babes, I really am living rent-free in that head of yours, huh? I knew I was good, but I didn’t know I was ‘make you think of getting dicked down when you’re making snacks’ good…”

“Behave.” You shoot daggers at him with your sharp gaze, and can’t help but feel like you’re giving him exactly the reaction he wants out of you. Dating Beetlejuice openly hasn’t changed too much of the dynamic, aside from you having to keep him and his lack of a filter on a short leash if you wanted to maintain your remaining shred of dignity.

The demon returns your gaze with his own unconvincingly innocent look. “I’m behaving, I’m a good boy, see? I poured the chips nicely and everything.” The whininess in his voice is going to make you insane, you know it. He then looks over your shoulder at the counter. “Oh hey, I think your popcorn’s done now.”

You whip your head around and are smacked in the face with the horrible smell of burning popcorn. “Oh shit!” You pull the microwave door open as fast as you can, but when you grab the bag and pull it open by the corners, the little puffs are burnt to a completely unsalvageable degree.

Beetlejuice gasps. “Babes, did you make this one just for me…?” He dramatically places a hand over where his heart would be. “Thank you!” He plants a quick but rough kiss on your lips before grabbing the bag and pouring it into his own personal striped bowl that appeared out of seemingly nowhere. You, on the other hand, are left reeling from the kiss and only able to wonder if he had been distracting you on purpose.

Delia makes a sound of disgust from the other end of the kitchen, and you look over to see her taking the dip out of the oven with a scrunched-up face. “Oh God, it smells awful in here! Tell me you didn’t put Beetlejuice in charge of the popcorn.”

Beetlejuice practically cackles. “Nope, my sweet little meatsack did this allllllll on their own.” With that, he proudly takes his personal bowl out with him to the living room, leaving you behind to pick up the pieces.

Feeling utterly duped, you grab the half-full bowl of popcorn and follow him out of the kitchen. By now, though Charles has gone past you to the kitchen to help Delia, Adam and Barbara have joined Lydia in finding a comfy spot on one of the many chairs (the family reached a point where they really had to invest in more seating after getting such a full house). Their attention is on the TV mounted above the fireplace as Adam swipes through a variety of potential movies to watch, at least, until the two of you arrive.

Lydia plugs her nose. “Gross, why’d you let him burn it, dude?”

Beetlejuice laughs and pipes in for you. “Hey, nobody can resist the power of the B-Man! Not even this one.” He tosses a piece of charcoal-colored popcorn into his mouth for emphasis.

You roll your eyes and offer Lydia a defeated shrug before settling onto the nearby loveseat, placing the big popcorn bowl on the coffee table in front of the TV. “I tried, kid. Unfortunately, he is still an absolute pest even if you happen to be in a relationship.”

Beetlejuice crosses his arms proudly, his bowl hanging in midair where he left it. “Oh, you want pest? Good, I needed a seat anyway.” He immediately plops down in your lap, laying his entire form on top of your reclined body.

“Crushing…me….!” You try to push back against his back unsuccessfully, finding him firmly planted on top of you. “There’s an empty seat right next to me you dummy!” It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be, but ghost or not, he is certainly a big boy.

He slides around to sit in your lap sideways, his legs resting on the empty loveseat space but all of his weight still perfectly balanced on your lap. “Is this better, schnookums? Honeybunny? Light of my death?” He bats his eyelashes at you sweetly. He is not being sweet.

“You two need to get a room,” Lydia says, looking even more disgusted than she was with the burnt popcorn smell.

“We have one, it’s upstairs,” Beetlejuice counters.

“I have one,” you correct him.

“Babes, what’s yours is mine, remember?”

You promptly shift your lap and dump him onto the seat next to you unceremoniously. He lands with the amount of grace that you’d expect.

“Alright everyone, the dip is ready!” Delia’s singsong voice rings out as she and Charles bring in the rest of the food from the kitchen, and Delia plops the dip onto the coffee table by the chips. “I got the recipe online!” She says this fact like it’s a fun little surprise for everyone, as she likes to do.

“That’s great, and I think we got the movie all ready too,” Barbara says, and receives a thumbs up of confirmation from Adam.

With this, everybody finds a comfortable spot to sit as the movie begins playing, the studio logos rolling on the screen first. Charles and Delia on one couch, Lydia sitting in a strange lounging position on her soft chair, Adam and Barbara snuggling close on one loveseat, and you and Beetlejuice together on the other. You’re lucky that the television is so large, everyone’s already packed in enough as it is.

Beetlejuice scoots closer to you, and this time, he genuinely is being sweet. He looks up at you with those big brown eyes before snuggling his head against your shoulder affectionately. You reach your arm around his body to hold him closer, bringing your hand up to run your fingers through his hair, always its favorite place to be. He sighs contentedly next to you, his eyes closing in bliss for a moment before they reopen to watch what’s happening on the TV, unwilling to miss a thing. His light but comforting weight pressing against you is like your own personal weighted blanket, immediately making you relax all of the muscles in your body with his mere close presence. Your own gaze lingers on his pretty features for a moment longer, before getting the distinct feeling that someone is watching you. Looking up, you see everyone watching the movie, aside from Adam and Barbara, who are cuddled together and subtly peeking over at you two of you. At getting caught, they shoot you identical sheepish grins, all endearing and full of fondness in the way their eyes crinkle at you and your demon. You can’t help but give them a coy smile back before you all return your attention to the screen, holding the ones that you love close in your heart and arms.

Author’s Note: WOW. HOW DID THIS END UP SO LONG. this absolutely CLEARS my longest fic record by a fuckton of words. i have no idea, this started as a little blurb when i saw beetlejuice in nyc and then i saw it again on tour and my bff inspired me to continue it and helped with some beta reading (shout-out! go read his fics of beej & others at wretched-devil, they’re absolutely lovely) and things just kinda spiraled outta control. this fic had my studious ass on bad dragon looking up monster cock references, it was so serious to me. welp, hope it was fun for y’all too, thanks for reading!!

#beetlejuice x reader #musical!beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x you #beetlejuice x gn!reader #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice #reader insert #smut #i’m back in the fucking building again ?!?#fun fact i had to go thru and manually italicize everything in both the ao3 and tumblr text editor #bc i couldn’t figure out how to make the formatting carry over #so. this fic was hand stitched with love basically #my fics

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voidcat · 7 months

Text

– the moon will sing

characters: astarion, human bard mc (gn pronouns used)

notes & genre: slight angst, implied future mcd & hinted immortal/mortal relationship. the mc is originally my dnd character but there is no specific description of name, appearance or past (save for the family crest, implied nobility) so you can pretend this is x tav or x reader. lowkey inspired by a the crane wives song.

it takes a moment to look back, like a step taken a tad too late; not enough to create a great distance but one enough to make one stumble on the ground.

in the small yet grand distance, astarion watches as cheers and joy fill the air once more, mimicking those nights before, in taverns, under the stars, all spent celebrating, rejoicing with glory and gratitude; all heroic feats and gestures he does not care to– nor wish to understand.

another adventure comes to an end, one step closer to the end, the destination, the next step of the rest of their lives until they find themselves at a crossroads.

one part of astarion cannot wait for that day to come, the one that wishes to escape, to avoid the burning rays of sunlight that only intensify each passing minute, each day he finds himself stuck deeper than he already has, struggling more and more to break those ties which are yet to be formed and binding completely.

better to rip the sticky, bloody bandages off than to take it easy– just suck up the pain that comes with a loss of recent constants in his life, and grow into his newly lonely routine of not depending on anyone.

all good logic, all bright ideas, astarion finds himself giving the little-him in his mind a pat on the back; only for the idea to come to halt, the unspoken words stuck in his throat as you turn in your spot, meters, meters away from him, spot his distant figure with those eyes and send a warm smile his way.

maybe this is another plan that has already failed before he could realize, astarion begins to wonder, oh he is so, so fucked– especially when all it takes now is a smile, a genuine one that reaches your eyes and shines warm like the sun, for him to be rendered speechless and immobile.

your smile falters for a second when you don't receive the usual astarion treatment, be it a wink, a charming smile or an all-knowing smirk decorating his smug face with a raised eyebrow that seems to say "cannot keep your eyes off me, can you now darling?"

one step taken a tad too late but astarion is never one to stumble over his feet, so with a roll of eyes and smirk returning to his lips, he tilts his head to the side in a questioning manner– to which, you reply by raising the bottle you've been holding, as if to say "hey, this time the wine is not that bad actually."

seeing him nod, and with too many people surrounding and asking for your attention, you find yourself having to divert your eyes away from him, as the people seem to chant for something from you, most likely another round of recounting your latest heroic victory, astarion thinks.

soon the sound of strings vibrating fills the air with faint first few notes of music.

of course, a celebration is not complete until there is music, no matter what time of the day it is or how tired everyone is. drunkards, raspy voices and dry throats all join together, offering back vocals to the lucky bard of the night– or the day; with how busy the hours have been passing, astarion realizes he is at a loss of time.

another glance stolen at you, and the light surrounding you like a halo certainly does not help his case.

golden, like the branches of your family crest, it is no wonder the moon shines bright above everyone, reflecting off the light you provide; brightening the world for all to see, to walk, breathe, make it all easier to live.

he spots shadowheart by some trees, enjoying her drink alone, gale and wyll speaking with people, probably giving them some answers they so desperately needed. his eyes roam the grounds and find each member of their little group, all too endorsed in whatever it is they are doing; yet one thing in common– a sense of relief, rejoice, change; the traces of especially the latter is out in the open for careful eyes, or just eyes who have seen and known them long enough.

he wonders for a moment if the same can be said for him, but he knows better, that it has already happened.

the sound of music gets louder and soon suppresses the irregular chatter spread around.

the tune sounding too familiar, astarion makes the mistake of looking at the source and being blinded as a result.

because, of course it would be you with your adorable little lute, clapped on the back by everyone 'just one song, then, o'mighty bard, please!' and never one to miss such moments, you would go up in your imaginary stage and pick the one song you were sure to draw his attention, as if you don't do that enough with your presence already.

your eyes already locked on him, you do your little trick where you pretend your attention is divided equally, as if your eyes are roaming the crowd, committing every face you see to your memory when your sole focus is on him, as he is drawn to you.

astarion knows, it is utterly foolish and even a little dangerous of him to think like this, but he fears what is to come by the end of your noble and enthralling series of journeys, when your effect on him has been this grand already.

not a fun thought to entertain, certainly not at a joyous time such as this one, were it not for your current occupation, he is positive you'd have walked all the way back to him to give him a good smack on the arm, or maybe a fisk on his forehead, or a knock on his skull along with a scolding to inform he got quite the thick skull if he is sulking like this at a time like that.

is it the fear of what has become of him, or what is to come when too much time passes, he is uncertain. but it must be another way of gods' mocking him, and cursing you perhaps– of all those faces and races, why did it have to be a human, that selfish part of him hisses. all those elves in the bloodline and you just had to be fully human, didn't you? giving him a taste of heaven, only for it to be cut short.

it was supposed to be moths with short lifespans, the cycle of the moon; not the sun, with all its grace and sanctity.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #original character #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 drabble #astarion drabble #bg3 angst #bg3 x tav #astarion x mc #astarion angst #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #gender neutral character

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

The Death of Duty ~ Aegon Targaryen

pairing: Aegon x Highborn!Reader summary: You journey to King's Landing after years away, to be presented at court in hopes of finding a husband to save your family from financial ruin. You run into an old friend. warnings: drinking, angst, that's it I think! word count: 3k A/N: This is inspired by Little Women, specifically 3 scenes between Laurie and Amy. I could NOT stop thinking about Aegon as Laurie and simply had to share! Working on several part 2s to my other fics but have a feeling I will write one for this as well. Enjoy my loves! 💚 masterlist

“My darling are you listening?” your grandmother says, stealing your attention from the streets of King’s Landing you peer at through the window of your carriage. The streets are alive, bursting with music, merchants, and people bustling about. You glance at your grandmother who purses her lips at your inattention.

“I said, the women of court live in such luxury they can barely lift a hairbrush, without a servant rushing to their aid,” she repeated, causing you to chuckle.

“I suppose that is true,” you answer, before looking back towards the street.

“Do not humor me, child,” she scolds, watching your transfixed expression. You had not been to the capital since accompanying your late father when you were a young girl as your brother wished to join to kingsguard. It had been several years since then, and with your father’s recent passing your grandmother insisted you need to be presented at court with the hopes of securing a marriage.

You smile apologetically, knowing you are being rude.

“What shall your husband say when you ignore him?” your grandmother asks causing you to sigh.

“I do not have a husband yet, grandmother,” you assure her, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Your brother is a lost cause,” your grandmother says, referring to his position. As the eldest son of your house, he had been heir to your father’s seat and fortune. He had given that all up with joining the kingsguard, something your grandmother thought was quite foolish.

“You are your family’s hope now,” she said, and you forced a small smile, stomach souring at the weight of her words. Marriage was always seen as an economic proposition, a way to secure the seat of your house and make sure the rest of your family was able to live out their days in peace.

You turn from her once more, looking out the window, hoping to hide your sullen expression. You begin to people watch, spying on those wearing different fashions of the Free Cities. Colorful robes and silks fill the streets. You suddenly see the top of a silver head, the hair bluntly stopping at the person’s shoulders. They walk slowly, but with purpose, shoulders slouched.

Your mouth drops open.

“Aegon!” you call, unable to stop yourself, “stop the carriage! Aegon!”

Before the carriage can be brought to a halt you open the door, gathering your skirts and breaking free of the small confinements. You hear your grandmother shout your name behind you, her hands attempting to reach you as though she could hold you inside.

Aegon stops at the sound of his name, on the lips of someone he has not heard from in years. His eyes brighten as he sees you, the grin that stretches across your face.

Though your time in the capital had been brief, you had bonded with the eldest son of King Viserys. You had found Aegon handsome and had an incredible laugh. Though Aegon was more preoccupied with other ladies in the Red Keep, he enjoyed your friendship, not noticing your affection for him. You had always been crushed when you saw him with other ladies, wondering why he would not see you in the same light. But the thoughts of girlhood faded with the distance between you and as you grew into the dutiful woman your family needed you to be.

Still, you felt your heart race and your cheeks flush as you heard him call your name and wrap his arms around you. Perhaps, some matters of the heart never change.

“I almost did not recognize you, my lady,” Aegon said, his smile wide, “you are so beautiful!”

“Oh stop it,” you insist, cheeks aflame at his praise, “what are you doing out here?”

“Just an afternoon stroll,” Aegon said, eyes taking in every inch of you. He cannot believe you’re here in front of him. He has felt so alone recently, he longs for a friend.

“Are you chasing some maiden throughout King’s Landing?” you jest, but watch his smile falter.

You wet your lips.

“I heard of your wedding to Princess Helaena,” you told him, “Congratulations, my prince.”

“Thank you,” he said, his smile returning though it did not meet his eyes, “you are very kind my lady.”

You hear the angry voice of your grandmother calling you from the carriage. Several merchants have surrounded the carriage, beckoning your grandmother to purchase some fabrics. She gives you an exasperated look.

“Come back here this instant!”

Aegon takes your hand, leading you back toward your carriage. You squeeze inside and resume your seated position. Aegon closes the door behind you and you lean out the window at him, clutching his hand in yours.

“I am to be presented at court, shall I see you at the feast?” you ask, as the carriage begins to move. Aegon walks beside it.

“What is a feast without the prince?” he answers, placing a kiss on your knuckles. A giggle escapes your lips, as though you are transported in time and are just a blushing little girl again.

“I shall escort you to the feast,” he promises, finally releasing your hand.

“I shall see you then!” you call, as the carriage turns a corner, and Aegon is lost from your sight.

You cannot stop grinning as your grandmother gives you a sideways look, eyes narrowed.

“What?” you ask, though it comes out a breathless laugh. She purses her lips, humming slightly.

“It is Aegon,” you insist and she rolls her eyes.

“Yes, I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aegon does not come.

You wait in your chambers until half the candles melt down, the wax dripping like tears. You try not to be hurt, he is a prince after all with other duties to attend to. Aegon is not the purpose of your trip to King’s Landing, his attendance is not necessary.

Your grandmother escorted you to the feast that night and you had spent the beginning of the evening chatting and dancing with several eligible lords. A lord of Riverrun had peaked your interest. You found his smile kind, and he was able to keep you engaged in polite conversation. You had just finished your second dance with him when Prince Aegon made his entrance.

He was not alone. In fact, several ladies flocked around him, their giggles reminiscent of the chattering of hens. They were all clearly drunk as they stumbled down the steps into the great hall. You glanced towards the high table watching as Queen Alicent placed her head in her hands. The King barely took notice, his head had begun to droop as though it exhausted him to keep it upright.

Prince Aemond looked at Helaena, who did not seem perturbed by Aegon’s entrance though there would surely be gossip among the members of court tomorrow.

Aegon let himself crash onto one of the sofas, one leg hanging towards the floor. A lady draped herself across him, while another grabbed a goblet from a nearby table, holding it to his lips. You watched as his hand reached toward the woman lying atop him. Her dress was Lyseni cut, revealing the smooth skin at the swell of her hips. Aegon's hand traced lazy circles on the flesh.

Your stomach bottomed out, and your lips downturned. You had to confront him, especially when he humiliated you like this. Not only you but his wife who sat across the room from him, plainly viewing his lewd actions.

“Aegon,” you said, facing him. He looked up at you, a dazed look on his face, eyes glassy from the wine. The women around him glanced at you briefly, then looked away as if they didn’t care if you disappeared or joined them in their affections towards the prince. Aegon smirked up at you.

“I waited for you,” you told him, watching his tongue wet his lips. He chuckled.

“I feel as though I have been caught,” he said, more so to the women around him than you. The ladies giggled at his words, and the cup-bearing one held the goblet to his lips once more. Music began to play once more, as the guests began another dance around you.

Not knowing what else there was to do, you turned to leave him. He was drunk, nothing you say would matter. You scanned the crowd for the lord of Riverrun.

“Wait,” Aegon’s voice calls behind you, but you keep walking. Aegon lifts himself from under the ladies, taking his goblet with him. He trails after you.

“Do you know what I honestly think of you?” you tell him as you feel his form beside you.

“What do you think of me?”

“I despise you.”

“Why do you despise me?”

“Because with every chance you are given to be good, happy, or useful, you throw it away and are lazy, lustful, and miserable.”

“That is interesting,” he says, his tone mocking you. He takes a sip from his cup.

“Yes well, selfish people do like to talk about themselves.”

“Am I selfish?”

“Yes! You have no thought about how your actions affect your father, your mother, or your wife Aegon. They are all to benefit you. You are selfish with your money, your beauty,” you tell him as you stop walking and face him.

“Oh you think I beautiful,” he says, a triumphant grin on his face. You shake your head in frustration. Of course, he only hears your praise. You continue to walk away from him.

“Oh yes, you liked that, didn't you? You are a vain prince. With all these good things you have access to you do nothing but drown yourself in women and drink.”

He grabs your hand from where he stands behind you. You can feel the cool metal of the rings on his fingers but his hand is soft and warm.

“The Mother! The Maiden! Incarnate in front of me now!” he says dramatically, holding your hand to his chest. He pouts his lips. “I’ll be good for you, I’ll be good for you!” he begs, making a fool of you once more.

You jerk your hand out of his.

“Are you not ashamed of a hand like that?” you ask, “smooth as though its never held a sword a day in its life.”

“My brother is the knight,” he retorts.

“And those rings are ridiculous.”

You know you’re being cruel. But you wish to make him hurt. To cut him the way that he does you. Aegon looks at his rings.

“My father gave this one to me.”

You scrunch up your face at his remark. During your friendship with Aegon, you quickly learned he was desperate for his father’s love. Something he never had and would never get.

“I feel sorry for you,” you tell him, “I really do. I just wish you would bear it better.”

He holds your gaze then, lilac eyes darkening.

“You do not need to feel sorry for me, you would do the same if you were me,” he says, chewing the inside of his lip.

“No,” you tell him, “no, I’d be respected if I couldn’t be loved.”

You can see the hurt flash across his face, and you know the blow struck him.

“And what have you done lately, oh great lady?” he taunts, sneering at you. “Perhaps fantasizing about which lord you can trick into bedding you, so you are free to spend his fortune and bear his children.”

He backs away from you as your eyes widen at his words. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and blood rings in your ears.

“Lords beware!” he says, throwing his hands in the air, wine splashing out of his goblet drenching some poor guests too close to the prince. The music stops and the crowd parts for the dragon prince.

Your breathing picks up, your heart racing in your chest as you feel all eyes on you, and hear the whispers that begin as Aegon returns to his ladies. Your eyes meet your grandmother’s. She wears a look of disappointment as a king wears a crown.

“Grandmother,” you say as you reach her, “I’m so sorry.”

“Hush now, child,” she scolds, “let us find the lord you danced with.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next several days you spend letting yourself be courted by the Lord of Riverrun. He escorts you to supper each night and listens to you speak about your family, and your interests. You show him your artwork, simple sketches you keep close to you, and paintings you had begun working on during your stay at the Red Keep.

You promenade through the gardens together and it feels easy. You laugh when you are supposed to and inquire about his hobbies. You learn he enjoys hawking and is a fast swimmer. You begin to imagine what life in the Riverlands could look like, your children running wild through streams with auburn hair.

Mid-morning, you sit by yourself in front of Balerion’s skull, sketching a portrait of the once revered dragon. You make sure to correctly shadow where the candles throw light onto the enormous skull. You are thankful for the privacy until Aegon joins you.

“My prince,” you say, curtly but politely. He struts over to you before taking a seat beside you. Even his walk is full of lazy arrogance.

“I have been searching for you,” he admits, and you can feel his eyes watching you. You keep your gaze on Balerion, switching between the drawing and the skull. Aegon watches your eyelashes brush your cheeks which are beginning to turn pink. Your lips part as you inhale a sharp breath.

“Well?”

“I came to apologize for my rakish behavior,” he tells you, and you cannot help your smile. “It was unseemly and undeserved.”

You look at him then, meeting his violet eyes. His brows are raised, waiting for you to speak. Aegon looks so helpless, as though a child who has been scolded.

“I forgive you, of course,” you tell him, causing him to smile. You feel an ache deep within your heart. You fear you would forgive Aegon for anything if he looked at you like that. With those big, lavender eyes, and soft words that fall from his lips. This frightens you greatly.

Aegon does not look away from you, nor does the smile leave his lips.

“What are you doing?” you say, desperate to know what he is thinking.

“Looking at you,” he murmurs, the light from the candles dancing in his eyes.

“I mean, what do you intend to do?” you ask, desperate to change the subject, to ease the tension that coils between you like a serpent.

“In life?”

“Yes.”

“I have been visiting the winemakers, attempting to find the sweetest one,” he jests and you look down at your drawing.

“That is a waste of time, and hardly a life goal,” you tell him, though the corners of your mouth pull up into a smile. He keeps watching you, admiring how your hands hold the pencil, drawing sharp lines across the page.

“What would you have me do?” he asks, which surprises you. Aegon is rarely a man who asks for advice or receives it well. You smile at him, feeling honored. He mirrors the smile you award him and you sit for a moment in silence.

“Sit by your father’s council as Aemond does, and learn from your father’s advisors,” you begin but Aegon waves you off, rising from his seat, and shaking his head.

“You’re not playing fair,” he accuses, walking away from you. You stand as well, holding your finished drawing.

“Here,” you say, handing it to him. He takes the sketchbook and looks down at it. He smiles.

“It's very good,” he says, before turning the page. Sunfyre is on the next page, a simple sketch as though done in a rush. But Aegon knows it is his dragon, clearly his Sunfyre. He is in flight, wings stretching the entire page, a small version of Aegon perched atop his back.

“When did you do this one?” he asks, showing you. You smile at the memory.

“It was when I first came to King’s Landing as a little girl,” you tell him, “that was the first time I saw you.”

He nods and hands it back to you. As you take the notebook you do not notice as Aegon stares at you, as though truly seeing you for the first time.

“When do you leave?” he murmurs and you glance at him.

“A month, perhaps sooner,” you tell him, “once a betrothal is arranged, I suppose.”

He nods and begins to pace the room. You continue your sketching, looking towards Balerion once more.

“Don’t marry,” Aegon says, so softly you’re afraid you misheard him. Your head snaps to look at him. Your hands begin to tingle, as nerves fill your stomach.

“Why?” you ask, brows creasing together.

Aegon walks towards you, tilting his head to the side.

“Why?” he asks, coming closer, “you know why.”

You can hear your heart beating, and the short, shallow breaths that leave your parted lips.

“No,” you murmur, “no.”

“Yes,” he insists, suddenly reaching for you.

“Aegon, stop it. You’re being mean,” you say, and you can feel the back of your throat tingling with the promise of tears as your voice breaks. “Stop it.”

“What?” he asks, bringing a hand to your face, his eyes confused. He does not know how much his words have hurt you. You push his hand away from your face.

“I have been preparing to marry my whole life,” you tell him, voice trembling, “And now you want me? You have a wife, Aegon. I will not be your paramour and lose my family’s ancestral seat.”

Aegon’s lips part at your words.

“I will not be ruined by you,” you say, unable to stop the hot tears that spill down your cheeks,

“I won’t do it. Not-” you pause, taking a shaky breath- “not when I have spent my whole life loving you.”

You throw your sketches to the ground and leave the dragon prince among the skulls and ghosts of those who came before him.

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thenextdawn-backup · 1 year

Text

I Will Rescue You

Word count: 3.4K

Summary: story inspired from a Tik Tok, you have always had a blog about Jenna and your mental health, and one day your dreams about meeting her will finally come true.

Warnings: mentions of depression, suicide. Fluff at the end

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

This is my favorite story so far. It has a special meaning for me. There’s a lot of me in this story, almost for 6 years now I’ve been struggling with depression and aside from this being a story, I meant what I wrote, I really did. Don’t ever give up because there’s always something’s good in the end of a storm🤍✨

———

Your account on twitter has always had a big following, mostly because of the contents and the subject of your posts. Jenna Ortega. You were the same age as her and you’ve loved her and her work ever since you first saw her on screen, on Stuck in the middle. Ever since you saw every show or movie she was in, every interview every nomination. You never missed any of it, though people on twitter didn’t just follow you because of your contents about Jenna, they also had learned to care about you and your mental health. You’ve always shared how Jenna has saved your life just with some sentences she’d say on the internet that’d make you keep going.

You were suicidal and depressed, and on your twitter account you shared your road to recovery, your ups and down, all of it but most of all you’d encourage people to keep on going, just like you were trying to do, thanks to Jenna. You had never talked to her, she did like your post at times (it was very rare) and that was enough for you, it was like a sign that you had to keep going and that you had to do it so that one day you could get to meet the girl that has saved your life. Each times there were castings open for a show of hers you’d try send your tryout or application even for a side character, you might have seemed obsessed but really, you just wanted to thank her, that was all you wanted to do. You never got called back for her shows until one day.

You had auditioned for one of the side character in Wednesday Season Two, but the director really liked you - considering you had no experience, you must have been really good - and decided to give you one of the main roles in season two of the show. Of course you had to share this with the people that followed you but obviously you couldn’t spill too many details and had to keep it up to a certain point, so you ended up not posting. Recently you had been posting less and less, making your followers really worried about you, given the fact that your last post was “currently about to give up. “ people might have thought you’d do that for attentions but your followers knew better, they knew you were serious. Luckily you hadn’t given out your name so no one could actually retrace you.

You were thrilled, you would finally get to meet the girl that saved your life. You wanted to tell her everything, you just wanted her to know that she saved your life in so many ways that she couldn’t even imagine. And here you were, heading off to Romania to film Wednesday Season Two. You knew your schedule would be tight from now on and you didn’t mind that, because you knew that you would be happy. You finally had the job of your dreams with the girl you always admired… only she didn’t know about you of how she saved you, but that’s where you were wrong. She had been following your twitter account (she wasn’t a follower of yours, but she’d look for your profile to check on you, see if you were alright.) she knew that this fan of hers was struggling, but she didn’t know that it was you, her new cast mate. How could she have known, after all? You never gave out your name for obvious reasons.

Your first day on set was surprisingly good, the atmosphere was just everything you dreamed of. Trailers, sets ready, cameras, booths for food and hair and make up. You had imagined that there was a lot of work behind a show like this, just not THIS MUCH work. The other cast members hadn’t arrived yet but you got the chance to meet the director, Tim Burton. “Hey there! You must be (Y/N) right?” He asked as he shook your hand with a smile. “Yes, it’s really nice to meet you and to be here, it feels surreal” you looked around, still pretty astonished from the whole environment. “It’s good to have you here! You seriously have no experience in the movie industry? Your audition was amazing.” You shook your head, scratching your neck as you blushed. You were a really shy person.

“Really, I have no experience… that’s why I auditioned for a side character… I never thought that you’d want to take someone with Zero experience as a main character” you said and that made him smile. “Well I can recognize talent whenever I see some and there’s really a lot of talent in you, I couldn’t just let it go to waste” he said and that made you smile “plus, the other cast members are around your age and they are all really nice people so they’ll give you lots of tips and tricks of the job, just wait till you meet them” he said kind of excitedly. A while later the other cast members arrived, all together. Percy, Hunter, Joy, Emma and… Jenna.

There she was. The girl that had saved your life. You’d repeat that a thousand of times and you’d never get tired of it. You were ready to tell her everything, and then… you were not. “Hey! I suppose you’re (Y/N)!” It was Emma talking, who held out her hand to you. You shook her hand happily as you looked to everyone else “y-yes it’s me, hi” you said awkwardly, blushing as you shook everyone hers and else’s hand, and Jenna’s too. “I’m Jenna. It’s really good to finally meet you, Tim has talked a lot about you and your audition, we can’t wait to see you in action” she said smiling as she let go of your hand and flashed you one of her brightest smiles. “Thank you so much, I really appreciate it. I’m a big fan of all of your works I have to say.” You tried to keep it formal, you didn’t want to seem like the obsessed fan as you didn’t want them to push you away, so your dream of telling her everything vanished with that thought.

The talk with her and everyone else was pretty casual, you didn’t want them to think you were nothing but a fan, and with you being really shy you stayed quiet all the time. They were really good friends with each other and it was easy for them to just talk about anything, but you were scared of being refused by them and you didn’t even know how to engage a small talk with them, unless it was them asking you stuff to which you’d obviously reply, but aside from that, you were quiet. That day like the cast usually does they all sat together in one trailer to play Uno and they invited you as well. They had noticed you were really shy, but they figured you just needed to warm up to them. So they included you in each activity, wether it was hanging out together inside someone’s trailer or going out on dinners together.

That night as you were playing Uno and you were being really quiet as your usual, you had noticed that Jenna was quiet, too. She was very distracted unlike her usual when these nights happened, not that you’d learned. “Jen, are you okay?” Percy asked, getting her attentions as well as everyone else’s in the room. “Yeah, I’m just worried… do you remember that girl on twitter I told you about?” He nodded, but Emma looked at her confused. “What girl?” She asked “there’s this girl, she’s the same age as me. She’s been following me and my work ever since Stuck in the middle. She has always struggled with Mental health and always talked about how I saved her even with just a sentence…” shit, she was talking about you. Was she? “Well her last tweet is from two weeks ago and she tweeted “currently about to give up” and I’m so worried, I just want her to be okay” they definitely were talking about you.

“Well do you know her name? Have you tried texting her-“ everything else became background noises as you thought about everything that she had just said. You couldn’t be in the same room as her at the moment, you just couldn’t bare to. You didn’t want to break and end up telling her everything, you didn’t want to sound that desperate that you’d audition to spend time with her… you had to find an excuse to leave. “Uhm… I’m sorry to interrupt but I think I’ll go to my trailer… it’s been a long day, I woke up pretty early to catch the plane and I’m really tired so I’m going to sleep… goodnight everyone and thanks for the night” you thanked them and they all told you good night, including Jenna but with that same worried look in her eyes.

As soon as you arrived at your trailer you had to keep calm, you wanted to keep calm… only you couldn’t. You wanted to tell her everything but at the same time, could you? Would you seem like a stalker if you told her everything? It was all so scary, and you were reevaluating your choices of coming here. Yet on the other hand, if there was anything you could do to make Jenna less worried was write a tweet. “Hi guys, I’m sorry if I worried you all. I’m fine, just been a rough period. Thank you for supporting me <3” Jenna got the notification of your tweet and her friends saw her exhale of relief as they went on with their night.

The following days went by pretty smoothly you would say. You started filming and you were really good, you’d do all scenes in one take, mostly because your anxiety made you do all things good and precisely, that was probably the only good thing about it because except from that it was not a healthy kind if anxiety. You were slowly warming up to everyone else but you still tried to keep your distances from Jenna. She had tried asking you about it but of course you would just tell her that it was her impression, and that you acted like this with everyone else as well, though she knew that there was something else behind it.

Your time with the others was strictly on set, you refused to spend time with them anywhere else, too scared to break in front of everyone. However even on set the situation was becoming too overwhelming for you, Jenna’s presence and all, good you just wished you could hug her and finally feel safe. The other actors as well as the director noticed your “situation” but just wondered that it was because you had never been on set before and you were still trying to figure out everything, get used to the sleeping schedule and all of it, luckily there was a period where your character wasn’t included in filming so you had a period of rest. Of course the others asked you to spend time with them, wanting to include you in their friend group but you would always make up some excuses.

Though Jenna wasn’t stupid. She knew that there was something up with you and she wanted to help you. The fact that you were also trying to ignore her told her that something was going on and that you refused to tell her, so she had to find out. One day after filming, she saw the lights on in your trailer and decided to come in and talk to you. You heard knocks on your door as you put on a hoodie and opened the door. “Jenna… hi” you said with a small smile, your attempts of ignoring obviously had all failed? “Can I come in? I want to talk to you real quick” she took a quick look at you, eyes puffy and swollen as if you had been crying, but she didn’t want to interrogate you on that, not yet.

She walked in the trailer and looked around. It was meticulously clean and everything was in order, except for your bed. Your laptop and phone on your bed open for everyone to see, but she minded her own businesses and only looked at you. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you or why you’re ignoring me, but I know you’re going through something and I would like to help you…” she started and looked at you, tears filling your (e/c) eyes as you tried to look away from her. “Uhm.. I’m-I’m going to the bathroom real quick and then we can talk…” you said and watched her nod lightly, as you quickly went to the bathroom. You were going in full panic but you couldn’t Jenna was there in the other room, so you just washed your face real quick and tried to catch your breath.

In the meantime, Jenna in the other room had to figure out what was going on. She was sure you wouldn’t tell her everything, so she decided to invade your privacy. ‘Just momentarily,’ she thought. ‘It’s for her own good.’ When she went to take a look at your laptop she saw Twitter was open, your account - the one she has been worried about - open for her to see. It wasn’t like you were just looking at that profile, it was your profile and she was sure of that because you had the interface of writing a post open.

And suddenly she realized everything. The girl who has always wanted to meet her, the one she has wanted to meet; the girl she had saved; the girl she has always wanted to reassure that she’d be okay. It was you, it was you the whole time and she was honestly so glad that it was you, she was so glad to see you were okay. When you came out of the bathroom and saw her look at your laptop, you immediately walked over “what are you doing?” You asked her and immediately took the laptop, shutting it close and moving it away. “(Y/N), you’re that girl from twitter-“ she didn’t know what else to add, it all came out as a shock to her. You looked down, tears still filling your eyes as you refused to say anything. “Why did you never tell me anything?” She asked you and you sighed, sitting down trying to calm down and catch your breath.

She sat down next to you, hand on your back as she waited for you to speak. “I- I didn’t want to come out as desperate to your eyes. I mean I am I never denied I’m not… all I ever wanted to do was just meet you and tell you everything but when I came here, I just couldn’t. I froze, I didn’t want to seem like the stalker of the situation that would find a role on set just to be with you. Truly that was not what I meant to do, but I did and now I’m going out of my mind. I tried not to say anything because you have your perfect life, I didn’t want to be a weigh in your life with my pathetic needs, so I never said anything. But it’s getting really heavy, It’s really hard to keep everything in with my condition-“ by now you were full on sobbing, and Jenna took your hand to try and reassure you.

“This is why I’m always staying alone in my trailer… I didn’t want to just be a weight” you kept not looking at her, wiping your own tears with your free hand, while Jenna was tightly squeezing your other one, rubbing her hand against your back. “When on my profile I said that you saved me, I mean it, Jenna. There were days where I was on the verge of… committing suicide…” you said the last two words in a lower voice tone “and then I’d remember your interview, when you said about fighting depression and I’d think “why kill myself when I still have my whole life ahead of me” and I’d be okay, if I never got to know you I would have never survived those crappy periods” you kept it simple, not wanting to go in details.

“(Y/N),” she called for you, and you looked up to look at her, eyes worried and eyebrows furrowed in sorrow “I’m sorry for everything that you went through, but I’m glad that even just a few sentences of mine managed to keep you floating.” She started and kept on holding your hand, but when she saw you pulling it away she squeezed it even tighter. “I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you, whenever you need me. As you know I’ve struggled with depression too, and it wasn’t easy coming out of it but there’s nothing better than saying “I made it” and I want to hear you say it too” you looked down at what she said, you had been depressed for a really long time now and you didn’t believe that there was any chance of you getting better.

“Look at me” she used a soft voice of tone, eyes completely focused on you as you turned to look at her, she noticed fear in your eyes as you tried to focus on your breathing. “if you get lost, I will send out an army of people to find you, even when you’re in your darkest places I’ll be there to rescue you from every single one of them. Now that we know each other it’ll be even easier. I know you think you’ll never get out of it but you will and I’ll be there every step of the way. Are we clear?” She said with a soft, sad smile as she looked at you hopeful.

You slowly nodded at her and tried hinting a small smile as well, she knew you wanted to try, she knew you were willing to do so with her. “Come here” she said and pulled you in a hug, the one you have been craving for so long, and She heard you try and suppress sobs. “You can let it go (Y/N)” she whispered in your ear. You tried to keep your composure for some more, but you gave in. You were soon crying on her shoulders and gripping her shirt almost as if your life depended on her - which it kind of did - you finally got to tell her everything, you finally got to hug the woman that has saved your life multiple times and she promised to you and herself to help you out, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

You were so sobbing and screaming on her shoulders, your tears wetting her shirt but she didn’t seem to care as she held you tightly as one hand brushed through your hair, all while she kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “It’ll be okay (Y/N). You’re okay. I’m here with you from now on” she kept on repeating, trying to reassure you until you had actually calmed down, which took around 15 minutes. When the two of you had pulled back from the hug she moved some hair away from your face as you smiled at her, and noticed that her eyes were now red and teary too. “Why are you crying too?” You asked her, sniffling as you took a tissue and cleaned your nose. She smiled “I’m just glad to finally be at your side and see you’re okay” she nodded and sniffled as well, you smiled slightly.

“Are you gonna come to Percy’s trailer to play uno from now on? We really enjoy being around you” she asked, this made you smile brighter than earlier, luckily they didn’t just see by you as a “newbie” and actually wanted to be around you. You nodded at her and smiled, soon enough she took your hand and the two of you headed to his trailer.

Looks like you’ll finally have some friends.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #vada cavell #wednesday #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday adams #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader

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ofstoriesandstardust · 1 year

Text

forever winter (lt. jake “hangman” seresin)

a/n: i feel like we don’t talk about Jake post-suicide mission enough, so i wrote this. honestly this has been the most difficult thing i’ve ever written and i’m so glad to be done with it. i don't know why introspective pieces about Jake give me so much creative trouble but they do

summary: He knows, that on some level at least, he’s not good enough, no matter how much he pretends to be. So he puts on the facade, the “too good to be true” act, and hope no one sees through the cracks. The cracks though, are getting harder and harder to hide. Because he wasn’t good enough, was he? Sure, he saved them, but he still wasn’t enough. And maybe... maybe he’s not good enough to be here. With them. With the Navy. Maybe it’s time he start to figure out life outside the Navy, re-find and meet Jake, a person he hasn’t seen in so long, since the Hangman persona took over.

Because Hangman’s the reason no one likes him, the reason no one wants him around. They say they do now, but all good things must come to an end. It’s only a matter of time.

And then he meets her.

inspired by taylor swift’s “forever winter” and you should definitely listen while you read it.

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: kissing, insecurities, swearing, hurt/comfort, angst with a hopeful ending, panic attacks, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts (if you look very closely), PTSD, child abuse, alcohol, lowkey a character study, as in the relationship is not the main focus, my hometown knowledge pulled through for this one, the author believes men’s mental health needs more attention, gross abuse of italics, i did minimal research about resignation from the Navy

word count: 6,416

The lockers around him open and close as he reviews that day’s training over and over in his head, wondering where he went wrong.

You’re not good enough.

Someone claps him on the shoulder, startling him. He blinks the thoughts away, to see the face of his best friend, looking down at him worriedly. “You coming Hangman?”

He takes a deep breath, running his palms down his flight suit. He still hasn’t changed, the only one.

You’ll never change.

“Nah, nah, I think I’m gonna pass on this one.” Coyote bites his lip, searching for an answer before Rooster’s cutting him off.

“Hangman, you’ve hardly come out with us at all recently. Think you’re avoiding us or something. Decide you’re too good for all us mere mortals?”

Bradshaw’s tone is teasing, meant to be a friendly jab, but Jake’s skin prickles at the teasing regardless. Coyote sighs, grip on his shoulder tightening. His touch burns him.

Coyote deserves better, he knows it. Coyote, who’s been such a good friend, a loyal one. He can already see it, that one day he’ll realize that he’s become so accepted by the rest of the Daggers that- why did he ever really need Jake in the first place?

It’s what Coyote deserves. He wants that for him honestly. To not be dragged down by Hangman anymore, to be confined to the box that puts him in. He hasn’t made it easy for him, he knows.

So better for the break to just be clean, to stop coming around, to stop setting himself up for failure. Sure, they all seem to like him right now, but these things don’t last forever and he knows it’s only a matter of time before they go back to how they were before. He can’t ask Coyote to do that, can’t ask Coyote to go back to living on the island with him, to give up all these great friends he’s made. He doesn’t want to hope that these people might stay his friends, doesn’t know how to.

So he won’t. He won’t let any of that happen. Won’t set himself up for failure once again.

“Hangman?”

It’s Bob’s voice this time.

He swallows, looking up to meet the brown of eyes of the soft-spoken boy of their team. “You good? You zoned out there for a few minutes.”

He stands up, ignoring the looks he’s getting from his team mates, making him want to run and hide. He wants to come up with a witty response, shake the concern, but his mouth feels dry, like it’s full of cotton and he’s blanking on the words that usually come so naturally to him. So instead, he just grabs his shower stuff, shutting the locker behind him, leaving his not-friends-just-coworkers confused and concerned in his wake.

He isn’t sure why he pulled into the parking lot of the bowling alley and arcade, a good twenty minute drive from Miramar without traffic. It’s across town, in El Cajon, and honestly, he isn’t sure why this is where he ended up. He just knows that once he pulled out of the parking lot, drove off base, he picked one direction and drove.

He ignores the fact that he waited for everyone to leave the locker room and even longer in the parking lot to make sure everyone else had gone.

His grip tightens around the steering wheel and then untightens as he swallows, working up the nerve to go inside. He had no business being here, no friends to meet up with.

No friends.

He winces at the thought, letting out a sigh as he turns the ignition off, the car falling silent. He weighs his options, to go inside, to people watch, to eat shitty food, or to go back to an empty home where the silence rages louder than any noisy bowling alley.

The decision is made in a split second and he’s pulling his seatbelt off as he gets out of the car, something fueling every step towards the doors. Pulling them open, he’s immediately greeted by the sounds of bowling balls hitting the lane, the machines returning balls, the music from 2012 only overshadowed by the loud cheers of different groups of friends. He lets his eyes map out the room as he walks towards the food area, stomach jumping at the greasy pizza he can see behind the counter. His eyes skim over the menu, unable to stomach the thought of any of this food.

Never mind the fact that he’s struggled to keep down any food since the mission, unable to bring himself to eat in the first place. He turns, unsure of what to do with himself now that he’s in here. He has no business being here and suddenly it feels like it shows. Like everyone can read him, like everyone knows.

His fingers are twitching as he slides down at a table near the back, looking out at all the lanes. It’s a Tuesday night, so the alley is half-full, maybe. The largest group happens to be at the closest to him, their laughter the loudest thing in the room.

It makes some part of him ache, thinking about how badly he wants that. How badly he doesn’t deserve it.

He thinks of his team, at the Hard Deck, probably a mirror image of the sight in front of him.

They don’t need him.

He blinks, realizing someone’s appeared in front of him. She offers him a small smile as he clears his throat. “Hi.” She says, momentarily pulling one the hands that’s holding her bowling ball to wave at him. “Came to return this, can never pick the right size, but you seem... kind of upset.”

She turns as someone from the group calls her name and she looks over. “Stop talking to strangers!” They shout, laughing. She rolls her eyes, ignoring them.

“Sorry if I’m... being weird or like... creepy? You just seemed kind of upset and you’ve been sitting here all alone, for like, fifteen minutes.”

He blinks, wondering if he’s really been lost in his thoughts for that long. He shakes his head, looking back up to the girl. “I’m good.” He says, forcing a smile. It hurts, makes him dizzy with the force he puts into making it believable.

She tilts her head, clearly not quite believing him. “Well, if you, uh, wanted to join my friends and I, we wouldn’t mind. Unless, you’re waiting on someone, which is totally cool, I just- sorry.” She rushes out, cheeks going an unmistakeable red, even in the dark lighting of the bowling alley.

His chest tightens at the thought of joining her group, the group that’s caught his eye since he got here. Something akin to hope flares in his chest as he realizes she doesn’t know him.

They don’t know you. Not like the team does.

This could be a chance to see if there’s still something in him left worth saving and so he finds himself nodding, standing up from the table. Her smile is bright as she turns, walking back to her table, him trailing a few steps behind. You turn to the group, introducing them all to him. One of her friends, Blaise (he’s pretty sure that’s what she introduced him as), smirks.

“And what’s your friend’s name?”

You pause, turning to him. “I guess I didn’t get your name.”

“Jake.” He says, the words sounding strange on his tongue, so used to introducing himself by his callsign.

They don’t need to know Hangman.

You nod, introducing yourself to him. “Nice to meet you Jake.”

One of the girls, Morgan, joins in with Blaise’s teasing. “So distracted by the attractive man you forgot to get a new bowling ball. It’s your turn, by the way.”

You immediately blush, smiling sheepishly at him. Muttering an apology, you turn and jog back to exchange the ball and jog back in order to take your turn. He takes a few steps back from the group, watching you play as he sticks his hand in the pockets.

It’s not good.

The ball barely stays in the lane before slipping into the gutter as your friends boo. You walk back to the group as Blaise gets up to take his own turn.

“You’re not very good at this.” He says, the words slipping out of his mouth before he can stop them.

He winces, waiting for you to immediately rescind the nice gesture that had been you inviting him over here. Instead, you just laugh, nodding your head. “Oh extraordinarily. But I got outvoted tonight.”

“Outvoted?”

“Oh, we just sort take a vote to decide where we go on nights out. Or nights in, depending. But the consensus was the bowling alley, and I lost 5-to-1. I’d much rather be next door at the arcade. Consider myself a Skee-ball champ.”

“Oh yeah?” You nod, confirming. “Well, why don’t we go find out?” He says, some of his confidence returning to him. He isn’t sure where it’s coming from, haven’t seen it in weeks. Months, if he’s honest with himself.

Not since Mitchell passed him up.

You smile. “Alright, I’ll take you up on that.” You nudge Morgan, telling her where you’re going, and she nods as the two of you head over to the arcade. The arcade is even quieter than the bowling alley, leaving the three Skee-ball lanes completely open for the two of you. He stares at the machine as you wander off to get tokens, realizing he’s never played Skee-ball in his life.

Not like there was all that much in his hometown, and the best escape from his Dad was drives to the next town over, which was only marginally better in that they had a movie theatre that played four movies instead of three.

You reappear at his shoulder, counting through the tokens in the little cup. You hand them to him, setting the rest of your stuff off to the side. “So, how do you play?” He asks nervously, fighting to keep them hidden from his voice. He pretty sure he fails. “We didn’t have an arcade where I grew up.”

You don’t tease him, just explain the game to him as he feels the tokens grow sweaty in his palm. It’s simple enough, and if they let him fly the multi-million dollar planes for a living, he’s sure he can figure out an arcade game.

May not be flying for much longer.

He squeezes his eyes shut at the thought, willing himself to listen to you instead of his thoughts for once.

“So where are you from Jake?”

“Texas. You?”

“I’m a native San Diegan. ‘Bout as Californian as they get.”

He nods. “You should meet my buddy Rooster. He embraces the fact that he’s also from San Diego. Annoys the shit out of our team.”

“Rooster?” You ask curiously, scoring another set of points. You look up at him, raising an eyebrow as he cringes, realizing he’s let the man’s callsign slip, and then looking down at the ball still in his hand. He hasn’t even started playing.

“Work for the Navy as a pilot. We use callsigns.”

You nod. “Oh, gotcha. One of my family friend’s worked on the Midway before it was decommissioned and turned into a museum.”

In all honesty, he hasn’t been to the Midway, even though he’s been stationed permanently in Miramar for the last six months. No point in driving out there to see the inside of a decommissioned aircraft carrier when he’s seen more of those than his own house in his life.

You don’t say anything more. Usually, when girls learn he works for the Navy, they’re drooling at his feet, wanting him to tell them some epic story, usually trying to slip their way into his bed. Usually, it works.

Jake tosses the ball up, finally deciding to start playing.

He isn’t sure how long the two of you stand there playing, but it’s long enough that his legs begin to ache, even though he’s begging himself to ignore it, wanting to stand here for a few minutes more with you. It was easy. You never pushed, always just listening. Returning his competitive streak, you offered him kind smile and a loud laugh when he beat you.

It was simple, not like the push-and-pull of his team. It was a simplicity he could see himself getting used to.

Blaise appears at your shoulder and you turn to him as you pause your throw. “I know you’re enjoying your time with your new attractive man-friend, but we’re headed out and I am your ride.” Before Jake can open his mouth to say he could drive you, Blaise is giving him a once over and turning back to you. “And I’m not in the business of letting one of my friends wander off into a car to be murdered by a strange man she met in the bowling alley, so we’re going.”

Jake turns, trying to remind himself that it’s not personal. Entirely reasonable. He wouldn’t let Phoenix or Halo wander off alone and get into a car with a random man they met in a bowling alley either.

You sigh, tossing the last ball into the machine, the score flashing across the top. He isn’t sure if it’s his ears that are ringing or the machine as you take your purse from Blaise. “Give me a second. I’ll meet you at the car.”

Blaise eyes you and then Jake. “Five minutes and then I’m coming back inside and you’re not getting a choice. I’m setting a timer as we speak.” You concede, waving him off. You sigh, turning back to him.

“Sorry, you date one shitty man and it’s game over.” You shake your head. “Anyways, it was really nice to meet you Jake.” He can’t bring himself to say anything, a lump forming his throat. Can hardly bring himself to breathe. “Um, if you wanted- I could give you my number? I’d love to see you again. Unless this is weird and you think I’m weird and you never want to see me again-”

“I’d love your number.”

You smile through a deep breath, sliding your phone out of your back pocket to let him enter his number. He does, noting the time and swallowing as he saves the contact. “Well, it was nice to meet you Jake.”

He nods, realizing he hasn’t thought about his shitty day since you walked over to his table two hours ago. “You as well.”

He really doesn’t believe you’ll text him. It was just a passing thing, nothing more than a moment. Yet there your text is the very next morning, asking if he wants to join you for the farmers market in La Mesa on Saturday. His fingers fly over the keyboard, confirming he’ll meet you there, bright and early.

It gives him something to look forward to, something outside the team he doesn’t really feel a part of. Maybe this is his chance to cut the cord, to walk away, before someone gets hurt.

He feels himself being pulled back down to Earth by the thought of seeing you, of your texts, sending him pictures of your family dog and the sunset from your backyard. He reciprocates, sending back pictures of the dinner he cooked (because that’s the new thing he’s trying, cooking, as he tries to sort out his life) and the book he picked up after work that day, because that’s the other new thing he’s trying too. Anything to keep the thoughts at bay, from making a decision he can’t unmake. From doing something he’ll regret, even though right now it’s looking like the best thing.

If the team notices a change in his behavior, they don’t say anything, though Rooster is always at his wing when they fly, Javy hovering. Jake hasn’t been to the Hard Deck in days and ignores the Dagger group chat as Saturday morning rolls around.

The farmers market is the perfect balance of quiet and busy, bringing him a moment of calm in a stormy week. Stormy couple of months. The conversation is easy, you telling him about all the years you (and your siblings) went to preschool in the neighborhood as the two of you pick through old records and fresh fruit. He observes the obvious fact that the Saturday farmers market is part of your routine as you chat with the family that sells locally-grown honey. His heart clenches at the thought you letting him slip into your life and routine so easily.

It’s as you’re picking through flowers for your house, asking for his opinion that he realizes this is too delicate, too fragile, to push the boundaries.

When asked if you should get the sunflowers or wildflowers, he blurts out that he can’t date you. He isn’t sure why he says it aloud, although he knows that the words are too true. He’d break you and he’s done ruining things. Ruining people.

You just nod and assure him that it’s okay, that you’re not looking to date either. That you’re always open to a new friend. He swallows and nods, telling you to get the wildflowers. That they suit you.

Wild with a quiet beauty.

The friendship grows from there, a lunch out at the Mexican restaurant just across the street from the market to a Sunday brunch turning into Taco Tuesday to drinks on Friday to another Saturday farmer’s market with lunch afterwards. He finds himself leaning more and more into your friendship, pulling farther and farther from his team mates.

They don’t need him anyways.

Nights away from the Hard Deck turn into weeks as he spends the time with you instead. Sometimes your friends join, sometimes it’s just the two of you. Your friends have warmed up to him, welcoming him into the group naturally. Even Blaise has settled in, joking with him, letting him into what has been a years-long friendship.

He’s sure the Daggers don’t miss him around. Don’t miss his competitive streak, his arrogance, his jabbing and prodding and poking.

They were better off without him.

Maybe Javy does, always feels the man hovering, waiting for Jake to talk about where he’s been disappearing off to when his feet hit the ground. But it’s been a while of this and even if Javy missed him at the beginning, he probably doesn’t miss him now. Too happy with his finally solid friendships to miss the one that had kept him out of the group in the first place.

He’s better off without him.

He knows what he has right now is fragile, delicate. One wrong move could send you spiraling out of his life with the door slamming shut behind you. He tries his best to let you go before he could hurt you, because that’s what he does. You don’t let him though, always encouraging him to stay, to talk about what’s bothering him.

He hadn’t even mentioned that anything was wrong.

He doesn’t mention that it’s been getting harder these days. That everyday he gets closer to walking away from the team, before someone can get hurt, before he can get someone killed.

The only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

He knows what he has right now is fragile, delicate. He can’t act on the feelings simmering just below the surface, can’t act on his desires. You’re too good. He’ll ruin you. It’s only a matter of time before you see what everyone else does, before you leave. No one stays.

It’s quiet the night he finally caves, fingers sliding over the call button before he can lose his nerve.

He needs you.

The phone rings once, and then twice, and- shit is it really three am?

He goes to click the red button, to end the call, say it was an accident and sorry for bothering you when it clicks, signaling that you’ve answered.

“Hello?”

He doesn’t answer, suddenly forgetting how to breathe.

“Jake? You okay?”

He wants to answer, but he can’t remember how.

Why had he called you again?

“Jake? You’re worrying me. Is everything okay?”

He begins to pace again, crossing the shitty hardwood of his shitty rental, as he runs a hand up to pull through his blonde hair. Tugs at the roots, as he tries to remember what he wanted to say. “I can’t do this anymore.” He finds himself saying, because it’s true.

He can’t lead this team, can’t be here, shouldn’t be in the Navy. He’s not good enough, never enough.

If was enough, Mitchell would’ve chosen him as wingman. Mitchell would’ve trusted him.

He hadn’t. Had trusted Rooster instead.

If he’d been enough, he would’ve been faster. Wouldn’t have had so close of a shot, would’ve been there with plenty of time.

“Okay... Is it work stuff? You wanna talk about it?” Your voice is soft, kind, and he tugs at his hair harder.

He’s going to ruin you. He’s sure of it.

Only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

“I’m sorry.” He says flatly instead. “I shouldn’t have- it’s late.”

“It’s fine.” You say automatically. “I was up anyways. What’s going on? Do you want me to come over?”

“No, I’m fine. I shouldn’t have called.”

“Jake-”

“Goodnight.”

He ends the call before you can protest, struggling to breathe as he lets the phone fall from his grip as he tugs at his hair again. He barely hears the phone clatter to the floor over the ringing in his ears, his chest tightening.

Panic attacks aren’t new to him lately, but this one brings him his knees as he realizes how badly he needs you. How much he doesn't want to let you go. How much he knows he has to.

It isn’t fair to you, to ruin you. To hurt you. He needs to get out, before he can hurt anyone else.

Only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

He sits there, back pressed up against the foot of his bed as his ears never stop ringing. The night passes him by, dawn rolling in, bringing pink splashes through the cracks in his blinds.

He should be getting ready for work when the phone rings again. He watches numbly as your name crosses his phone. He lets it ring once, and then twice. It rings a third time and then the screen flashes bright with a text.

I’m worried.

What’s going on?

Jake, are you okay?

Jake, answer me.

His chest aches at the hurt and worry he’s causing you. What he swore not to do.

Fine. Just stressed about work.

Never mind, didn’t mean to worry you.

Sorry.

He clicks the phone on do not disturb, pulling himself up from the ground. His limbs protest, his chest still feeling tight. He shouldn’t fly today, shouldn’t go into work.

Shouldn’t go into work ever again.

He swallows as he changes.

It’s only a matter of time before the Navy agrees.

His skin feels taut as he goes through the motions of the day, running on no sleep and pure nerves.

He started off his day right, slipping the paperwork into Admiral Simpson’s office and ending his pre-flight checks in Mitchell’s office, being asked what the hell is this?

I think you know exactly what that is sir.

He’d fumbled the trainings for the day, leading to Phoenix yelling at him over the comms. All he could hear in his head, over and over again, was Javy’s disappointed sigh over the comms as he left another person behind.

The water of the shower is scorching his skin as it falls over him, his head resting against the tile. Distantly, he can hear his teammates, chatting amongst themselves. His fingers twitch as he thinks about calling you, asking you to come over. He stretches them out as he thinks about what it would like to come home to you, pull you close to him, and just rest.

His chest aches at the thought of all that he can’t have.

He turns the shower off, pulling himself out of his daze as he walks to his locker. He hears the door to the locker room slam open as he pulls his pants on but he doesn’t turn. It catches his attention when his body is being shoved against the locker, causing their team mates to protest and stand up, moving to stand between the two of them.

It’s Bradshaw.

“What the hell man? I thought we were a team.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, ignoring the way his shoulder is protesting at the sudden collision against the metal lockers. “What are you on about?”

Bradshaw, Rooster, is seething. “You know exactly what I’m on about.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing himself off the locker and swatting Payback’s hand away. “If you’re really that mad about training today, get over it.”

Rooster turns to Coyote, who’s watching the two of them warily. “Did you know?”

“Know what?” Hangman almost grimaces as he turns back around, opening the locker up to pull his shirt over his head.

Time’s up. Secret’s out.

“Seresin’s leaving us.”

He forces himself to chance a glance at Coyote, who looks nothing short of betrayed.

“What, decide you’re too good for our team?” Fanboy teases, but he can hear the hurt underneath the joke all the same.

“This why you haven’t been hanging out with us?” Omaha asks, settling on the bench.

“You know, my world does not revolve around me going to the bar with you people and listening to Bradshaw play the same shitty song from the ‘80s and playing the same game of pool over and over again. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

He’s being cruel now, he knows it. Pulling at any frayed thread, to make the whole thing come unraveling. To say, look it was never meant to work in the first place.

Rooster takes a step back from him. “C’mon man, I thought we were friends.”

“Don’t kid yourself Bradshaw. How do you even know anyways?”

“Mav told me.”

He almost scoffs. “Of course he did.”

“He wants you to stay.”

He wants to roll his eyes and turn away. “That’s not his decision. Nor is it yours.”

“Hangman-”

“You know, it’s really none of your business whether or not I want to stay in the Navy. Nobody’s business where I go after I leave here. We’re not friends.” He snaps, not missing the way Coyote’s body language changes from defeated to guarded.

“So much for all those years we haven’t been friends Seresin.” Coyote mutters, turning away from him.

His heart cracks at that, soul stinging in the way he’d let Hangman take over, to push these people away. “Coyote-”

“Just forget it Bagman.” Bob says, his own hurt coloring the words as his arm slings over Coyote’s shoulder as the two of them turns towards the door. Rooster shoots him one last look before he’s grabbing his bag, following them out the door.

He can do little but watch the way the team filters out of the locker room, all tossing him looks of hurt and anger as they leave for the day. Finally, he sinks down, head in his hands as he thinks about what he’s done.

The only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

You’re waiting for him as he pulls into his driveway, sitting on his front porch. He sighs as he slips out of his truck, shutting the door behind him.

He doesn’t want to do this with you now. Not today. Not after he sat in Mitchell’s office, being told he couldn’t resign without a valid reason. Couldn’t look the man in the eye all day after the conversation that morning. He still wasn’t sure how the paperwork had ended up on his desk so quickly, in matter of thirty minutes or less, but the day had made him feel hopeless.

There was no out. Nothing left for him.

The only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

He wordlessly unlocks the front door, leaving it open behind him for you as he walks towards the kitchen, pulling the whiskey out of the cabinet. He hears the front door shut as he knocks the liquid back, gritting his teeth at the burn. He hasn’t medicated the pain away with alcohol since you came into his life but he’s feeling his control slip after the day he’s had.

“Jake.” You say, appearing next to him. He pours himself another shot, but you pry his fingers off the glass before he can down it. He lets you, reveling in your soft touch.

Won’t get that for much longer.

“Jake, you scared me last night.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” His words are cold, detached, as he wills himself to do this one last thing.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re friends. We-”

“You should leave.”

You jerk back, fingers leaving his own as if they had burned you. “What?”

“You heard me.” His voice doesn’t feel like it’s his own, floating somewhere above him as some part of desperately begs him to stop.

“Jake, something’s clearly wrong. I’m not leaving you.”

“Well, I don’t want you here.”

“Well, too fucking bad because you’re my friend and I want to be here for you.”

He cautiously raises his eyes to meet your own.

You want to stay? For him?

Where would he even start though?

I tried to resign from the Navy today?

My Dad used to hit me?

One of my not friends, co-worker at best, almost died because I wasn’t fast enough?

If I stay, someone’s gonna get killed because of me?

“I don’t know what to say.” He whispers and you nod.

“That’s okay.” You say softly, hand returning to his. “Why don’t we go sit down? You don’t have to talk, but let’s just sit.” He nods, letting you guide him to the couch. He thinks he can count on one hand all the times he’s sat on the piece of furniture. You don’t let go of him as you both sit.

He can’t meet your eye, can’t begin to tell you the truth. If you knew, you’d run.

Maybe that’d be best.

“You should go. I’ll only hurt you.” He says quietly, turning away from you.

“Jake.”

“’M not good. I- I hurt people. I ruin them. I- You need to leave.” His voice is begging now, pleading with you to see reason.

“Jake, look at me.” You say softly. “You don’t ruin people. You’re so good, so so good. I can’t believe you don’t see it.”

“I tried to- I need to-”

The words are trapped in his chest and it feels like he’s choking. Like if he speaks the words, he’ll be giving him the rope to hang himself with.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk. It’s alright.”

So he swallows, nods, and sits there. Allows himself to let you touch him. To rub your thumb over his shoulder blade as his head falls back against the couch.

It’s some time again before you speak.

“One of my friends in college was in the Marines.” You say quietly. “Not the same thing as the Navy, I know, but still. He wouldn’t talk about it, even if he was asked. I don’t know if he ever learned to talk about it.” He turns to look at you, even as your movements don’t cease. “We had lost touch after we graduated but-” You shift, shaking your head. “Something I’ve been thinking about lately. You don’t talk to me much about your work. ”

He swallows, watching you as you watch him. You don’t say anything more and he realizes you’re opening the door for him to talk about it. About all of it.

“There was this mission.” He feels himself begin to say, voice almost detached from him. He can’t bring himself to look away from you. “Almost a year ago now. Reason I got stationed out here. We- we weren’t meant to come home. One of my fr- coworkers almost died.” You just wait, listening, and he takes that as encouragement to continue. You haven’t run away yet. “He said something, about how the only place I’ll lead anyone is an early grave. Can’t help but feel like he’s right.”

Your touch burns him, eyes staring into his soul as he wrestles with himself to lay it all bare in front of you. He pulls away, standing up to pace the small living room. You let him, simply just watching him.

“I’m going to get them killed. There’s a reason I wasn’t selected to fly the mission. I’m- I’m gonna hurt them, gonna get someone killed. I shouldn’t be there. I’m not good enough and it’s going to cost someone their life.”

His hands reach up to his hair, going to tug at it again, the familiar feeling of trying to ground himself as everything spins out of his control.

“I- I feel out of control all the time. I can’t look them in the eye. I feel like I can’t breathe up there, that the only time I’m safe is on the ground. They don’t need me anyways.”

He chances a glance back to you and every part of your face is screaming pitypitypity

He doesn’t need your pity.

“I wanted to resign from the Navy. My CO told me no.”

You finally break your silence, shifting up. “I’m sorry, he told you no?”

He waves you off, starting a new round of pacing. “He needs a valid reason.”

“A valid reason? What’s more valid than I want to-?”

“Leaving is complicated and there’s a lot of paperwork, you have to have all these forms and a letter-”

“That a big decision, Jake.” You breath out, interrupting his explanation, moving to the end of the couch, looking like you might walk over to him. He hopes you don’t, despite how badly he wants to be next to you. “Are you sure of this?”

He pauses, feeling the tears sting his eyes.

He will do anything to not break right now. Not in front of you.

Bitterly, he can hear his Dad in the back of his head, reminding him how weak he is.

Real men don’t cry.

“I just don’t know what else to do.” He whispers, afraid of the words he’s speaking into the night. “I just need it all to stop.”

That’s what propels you off the couch as you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around him. The feeling of you holding him close makes him buckle as his resolve cracks and crumbles, the tears taking over as his knees sink to the floor. His sobs rack his body as he reaches up to clutch tightly at your shirt. You run your fingers through his hair as you try to soothe him.

“Jake, I-” You swallow, your hand stilling in his hair.

Here it comes. When you tell him this is too much, that you didn't sign up for this, that he should never contact you again-

You kneel to be eye-level with him, pulling his face into your hands. “Jake, I am so sorry. You deserve so much better than that. And I wish there was something more I could do for you, more for me to say. All I can say is that it’s going to get better. Things will always get better and I will be here to help you. I’ll always be here.”

He swallows, wanting so badly to believe your words. He almost does, if he squeezes his eyes shut and forces his Dad’s words out of his brain. “I want to believe you. I don’t know how.”

“That’s okay. I’m here, Jake. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t fix me. You can’t make me better.”

The words are blunt, cruel. You don’t flinch away or move back.

“I don’t want to.” You move closer to him. “I just want to help you. Let me help you.”

Without thinking, he surges forward, kissing you before he can think about the consequences of his actions. He knows in the half-second before you freeze that he’s fucked up.

You pull away, ducking your head as your bottom lip catches between your teeth. Neither of you say anything as your chests heave with what just happened, unable to meet the other’s eyes. Your hands haven’t left his face as you swallow, finally pulling up to look at him.

“Jake-”

He shakes his head, pulling out of your grasp to stand again. “Don’t. Don’t. Please don’t. I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.”

You stand too, sighing. “Jake, please-”

“Just go.” His voice wavers, cracking, a reflection of how he feels on the inside.

“Jake, this isn’t- Now’s not a good time-”

“Don’t make excuses. You don’t return my feelings and that fine. Just- get out, please.” His back is still turned from you as he waits for your footsteps to signal that you’re going to leave, just like everyone else. He succeeded in driving you away.

He does hear your footsteps but they don’t leave through his front door. No, there you are, figure blurry in front of him through the tears he’s been trying to suppress.

“Jake.” You softly, and he feels his lip tremble as he wraps his arms around himself, wanting to make himself small. “It’s not that I don’t return your feelings and I’m not saying never, but- you’re going through a lot right now. You need a friend, not a new relationship, and I’m happy to be here in whatever capacity I can be for you. You deserve the world Jake Seresin and I’ll be here no matter what.”

Your hands reach to his face and he allows his hands to unwrap from around his body, pulling you close to him. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he takes a shaky breath. “Don’t leave.” The words are muffled against your skin. “Please.” The words are like a prayer as he grips you ever so tighter.

“Never. Believe me Jake, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

For the first time in months, he takes what feels like his real breath, feeling like he isn’t drowning under the waves of his own mind.

For the first time in months, he allows himself to consider that things might actually turn out okay.

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fics #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fics #jake seresin fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fics #jake seresin x female!reader

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baek-at-it-again95 · 1 year

Text

Deja Vu (Spiderman! Yunho x reader)

Synopsis: It had been three weeks since you saw him. The masked stranger that seemed to appear out of nowhere, protecting your city from crime. The people of the town call him Spiderman, and he has plagued your mind day and night since he saved you.

Warnings: violence, very brief mention of a near death experience, sort of suggestive but not really, I do not know anything about chemistry so please forgive me

Concepts: best friend yunho x reader, ex choi san, angst, fluff, romance, comfort

A/N: hello beautiful atinys! A lovely friend of mine had this genius idea that I had to bring to life. we were totally not inspired by a tiktok edit. It has very similar plot points to the original spiderman movies. I hope you enjoy! <3

"But...who do you think he is?" you ask your best friend, Yunho. He holds the door open for you as you leave your chemistry class together.

"Who knows...but you worry about Spiderman more than you worry about yourself these days, Y/N."

"What can I do?" you ask, throwing your hands up haphazardly. "I almost died falling off a building. That's kind of traumatic, Yunho. Might as well talk about the guy who save me." He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I understand. Stay out of trouble, will you? I worry about you being out and about on your own. Hell, I worry something's happened to you when you don't respond to my texts within a five minute window."

"Clingy much?" you tease, knowing how much of an overthinker your best friend is.

"N-not in like a weird way!" Yunho sputters, dragging a hand down his face in embarrassment. "You're my best friend, Y/N. It's my job to be worried about you. Besides...who else am I going to study chemistry with?" He shoots you his usually goofy grin and you laugh.

"Not me, you know I hate this class!"

"Oh come on, you're the only person that will listen to me talk about it."

"I guess that's my job in this friendship." You shrug. "I will say, it's just so sexy the way you talk about ionic compounds. I can never stop listening." You snort.

"Good to know," he retorts, grabbing your backpack to keep you from running into people on the way to your next class. "Study at the usual spot tonight?" he asks.

You laugh. "I'll be there, sexy."

***

The past few weeks after the incident have been rocky for you, and since you made it halfway through this week without any issue, it gave you a false sense of hope that things could be back to normal.

But no. As if your night couldn't get any worse...

About thirty minutes ago, your boyfriend, Choi San, told you that he wants to take a break from the relationship. You know your relationship has been strained recently, but you thought that it would just pass with time. Maybe it's for the better, but for now, your emotions are still high. Oh, and you found out that you bombed your chem test earlier today. And as if that wasn't terrible enough, the icing on the cake was that it had started pouring on your walk home.

At least no one can see my tears in the rain, you think to yourself, head down as you walk to your dorm.

"Y/N?"

You sniff, quickly wiping at your face on instinct. When you look up, you come face to face with Jeong Yunho. You muster up the best smile you can to greet him, praying he doesn't ask any questions. If you have to answer anything about your miserable day, you'll surely crack and start crying even harder. "Hey Yuyu." His eyebrows crease with worry, and you think he might have caught on to something.

"You're going to get sick out here," he comments.

You breathe a small sigh of relief. "No worries. I'm almost home, anyways. No use in calling for a taxi. But...what are you doing out, Yunho?"

"Oh, well I...um...I accidentally fell asleep at the library."

"Again?" you ask.

"Again," he confirms, hands in his pockets and eyes on his feet.

"Well, let's get home quickly. God, I can't wait to be out of these clothes," you groan, the wet fabric sticking to every part of you and making you uncomfortable. You just barely catch the soft pink of Yunho's cheeks in the low light of the street lamps. "Look, you're already getting sick. Go, hurry home," you push, shooing him away.

"I'm going, I'm going. Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Yuyu."

You continue on in the direction of your dorm, eyes on the ground as you make a sad attempt not to splash in deep puddles. The walk seems to drag on longer than usual as you're left alone again with your thoughts.

"Hey!" A voice rings immediately after you turn the corner. It sounded like it came from across the street. You don't stop, just turn to glance at what's going on. That's when you see about four men, dressed in black, walking towards you. You quicken your pace, heart beating rapidly in your chest as you hear the men moving closer. You turn down an alley in hopes of losing them, but they're too fast.

"Hey sweetheart, give us your bag and we'll leave you alone."

"Wait!" you call out. Your thoughts run at a million miles per hour, trying to process the entire situation that occurred in what felt like seconds.

"Or not." Another one chimes in, laughing. You barely have time to process anything as one of them pushes you, shoving the side of your body into the wall. You cry out, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for another hit.

But after a moment, nothing comes.

You hear some shuffling and some shouts in front of you. Lowering your hands from their protective position in front of your face, you open your eyes, seeing one of the men running away. What is happening? As he runs, a force pulls him back quickly. He's pulled by...a rope? No, a web. Spiderman appears right before your eyes, kicking the man to the ground. The criminal scoots back, turning and running away in the direction he and the others came. Spiderman then quickly disappears around the corner.

When you turn to leave, he's right in front of you, hanging upside down from a web. A small gasp escapes your lips.

"You seem to be a danger magnet," he comments.

"It seems so. I suppose you're dangerous, then?"

"No, quite the opposite." You smile.

"There must be some way to thank you," you wonder aloud, taking a step closer. You bring your hands to his face, hesitating as your fingertips touch the hem of his mask.

"Wait," he starts. But he doesn't say anything more. You gently pull the mask up until it stops just over his nose.

"Thank you." You gently bring your lips to his. The kiss is slow and passionate, so lovely that you don't want it to end. But that would be against your better judgement. It's getting late, and he must have other things to attend to. You pull away just slightly, slowly pulling the mask back over his face. And with that, he shoots a web and swings up into the air, gone as quickly as he came.

***

"Y/N."

"Mm."

"Y/N," Yunho repeats, waving a hand in front of your face. "Are you okay?"

"I had possibly the worst night ever last night. So, no, not really," you reply curtly.

"What happened?"

"Where do I even begin? Oh, for starters, San and I are taking a break," you huff, continuing before he can insert his words of pity. "Which is basically inescapable relationship purgatory. Then I found out I bombed our chem test, got poured on, and after running into you, I almost got jumped." You choose to withhold the information about Spiderman, still trying to wrap your head around your interaction with him.

"Y/N, that's awful," he replies, concern etched on every inch of his face.

"Yeah, it was, Yunho."

"Are you sure you're alright enough to be at school right now?"

"Yep. I pay for this school, so it makes me feel better when I come to class, even if I don't pay attention. Plus, it's Friday. I can push through until the weekend." He looks like he has more to say, but he just nods.

"Do you want to stay at my place tonight?" he asks suddenly. You look at him curiously. Sure, you've been to your best friend's apartment, but only to study or to pick up something before heading out somewhere. You've never stayed the night. "N-not like, I mean...we can just hang. Maybe it will help you take your mind off things. And you'll be safe," he adds.

"A sleepover? With my bestie? How could I say no?" Yunho smiles his adorable smile in response, and you can't help but think about how sweet he is. You haven't exactly returned his kindness lately with everything going on, and maybe you can talk to him about it at his place...at least give him some sort of apology.

***

"That's so you!" says Yunho, pointing at a character in the movie he put on.

"Absolutely not!" you exclaim, throwing a piece of popcorn at him.

"Ah, not nice!" he laughs, grabbing your wrist. Your smile falters and he lets go as soon as he notices. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asks worriedly.

"No, no, it's okay. I just...I remembered I needed to talk to you about something." He tilts his head, looking at you like an innocent puppy.

"Oh, what is it?" His tone is soft, with maybe a hint of nervousness.

"I just...I've been so in my head recently that I feel like I haven't been involved with you. All the time, you check on my wellbeing, and I forget to check on yours. I mean, when was the last time I asked how your life was going? You offer me nothing but kindness, and I have not returned it to you. And I'm really sorry, Yunho."

"Y/N, it's not like that," he assures gently. "I understand that you've been through a lot of stressful things recently. It's only human that you would react negatively to these stressors. I just want you to know that I'm here for you. No one is perfect, and no one's life is absent of hardships. People need guidance; they need care. People need stability in a time when their life is thrown off balance. Just know that I will be that stability for you, Y/N."

"Yunho—" you choke out, the all-too-familiar burning sensation in your throat as you fight back tears.

"Oh, don't cry." He glances around nervously, not really sure how to comfort you.

You laugh through your tears. "I just...what did I do to deserve you?" You practically knock him over as you crash your lips onto his, relaxing into his arms. Your kiss slow and passionate; warm and comforting. It's blissful, and it seems...oddly familiar. But you've never kissed your best friend before. Maybe in a dream? Your ex surely didn't kiss like this. You gently pull away from him, eyebrows scrunched.

"What?" Yunho asks, scanning your face.

"I just...got deja vu," you mumble.

"Strange." Yunho shrugs, pulling you back into a kiss. You push away again and giggle as he tries to chase your lips. The familiar feeling is still present. The only person you've kissed like this is....

The thought that pops into your head seems so unbelievable, so embarrassing that you don't dare give too much away in fear of being wrong.

"You're...him?" you whisper.

"Who?" he asks with big eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You know who!"

"No, I don't know what you're talking about, Y/N." It feels as if he's teasing you. You groan out of frustration, not wanting to be wrong about such an outlandish idea. Yunho suddenly tenses a bit, setting you gently on the couch as he gets up.

"Well...perfect timing. Something's going on downtown," he says, disappearing into his room. You watch with a confused look until he emerges, clad in the familiar blue and red suit, mask in hand. Even though you had just made the connection...it didn't seem real. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him.

"You just told me you knew. Why are you all shocked?" he asks.

"I didn't know I was right," you manage. Your nerdy best friend? A superhero that fights crime? Unbelievable. Yunho slides a window open before he looks back to you.

"I'll be back in a few, okay?" You nod, coming over to him.

"Okay. Be safe." You peck his lips before he puts on his mask, climbing out the window. He leaps off the balcony and your heart practically stops, only to start back up again as you see him swinging on his webs from building to building. "Oh my god," you mutter to yourself, running a hand down your face.

You have a lot of things to say when he gets back. Starting with the fact that this was way sexier than ionic compounds.

#jeong yunho #ateez au #spiderman #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #spiderman au #ateez fic #spiderman yunho #kang yeosang #song mingi #jung wooyoung #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #choi jongho #choi san #yunho month #ateez reader insert #ateez

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sundaysunny · 2 years

Text

Holy Mary

pairings: jeno x reader

genre: romance, summer romance, churchboy!jeno (kind of), pining, fluff, angst

tw: sexual content, mentions of depression, religious trauma

word count: 13.5k

synopsis: you spend every summer at your grandparents lake side home in France. Most of the time you spend in the lake, painting or reading. The village is slow and life feels very relaxed. When a new priest turns up at the local church, your grandmother manages to convince you to attend a service which ends in you becoming infatuated with one of the priests sons, Lee Jeno. Jeno is a reserved man, he likes calm and quiet. His past trauma has effected his ability to maintain friendships and relationships. But when he meets you, he feels at home.

authors notes: this was inspired by Mary on a cross by Ghost! i also like to project my daddy issues and religious trauma onto people so enjoy! also! the south of france *chefs kiss* beautiful place, i want to go back so badly! and i recently learnt that catholic priests can remain married if they’re married before becoming ordained so that’s cool ig, it kinda inspired this story a little bit. ALSO! i would just like to clarify that this is just a story and i don’t share any of the opinions of the characters in the story. nor do i think jeno has any of these opinions. ITS JUST A STORY <3 also i can’t write smut to save my life but here u go

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

Most of your summers were spent by the lakes, at your grandparents lake house in France. The effervescent water sparkled under the sun, little ripples forming when the wind gently blew. The lakes had always fascinated you. You weren’t sure if it was the calmness being near water brought you or the memories of splashing around in them when you were a child, but you always felt very close to them.

You spent most of your summers painting too, mostly by the lake. Your grandmother tried to encourage you to sell your paintings, claiming that they ‘conveyed so much passion and emotion.’ You didn’t agree, you just wanted to paint. Today was no different, you sat by the lake and sketched out the lay of the land, preparing for your next painting. You watched your brothers splash around in the water with some other boys from the village. You could see the pure joy in their faces and made a mental note to try and capture that in your painting.

It wasn’t long before the midday sun became unbearable. You could feel it scorching your skin despite the thick layers of SPF your grandmother had lathered you and your siblings in. You decided it was probably best for you to go in for a while and get out of the sun. Your brothers were probably hungry too, with it being midday. You shouted over to them, both their heads turning as you beckoned them over and told them it was time to go in for some lunch. You began to collect all your belongings and head up to the house.

“There’s a new priest starting at the church this Sunday. I’d like it if you came this week, it would make a good first impression.” Your grandmother spoke up as you helped her set the table. You glanced over at the lake as you placed another fork down. “Really?” You mumbled, not really listening. “Yes, it would be good for you to get back in touch with your religion. Your mother tells me you don’t attend church back at home either.” Your grandparents were very religious, and they expected the same from their grandchildren. The reference to home made you feel sad for a moment. Although you loved coming to the lakes to see your grandparents, you missed your home. Your grandparents had moved to the south of France from Denmark when you were very young. You missed them dearly but they wanted a change and to have a much more relaxed and laid back life. Southern France did make for good vacations however.

“Oliver and Kaspar have been attending. They’ve been enjoying it, there’s lots of other young people there too. It’s be a good chance to make some friends for the summer.” Your grandfather had made an appearance at the table, your brothers following behind him. “I’ll think about it.” You said as you headed back inside to get the rest of the food. You could imagine your grandparents both shaking their heads. Religion had always been a touchy subject for you. You’d grown up being taught Catholicism and attended church every week with your parents back in Denmark. When you reached your teenage years, things began to change. You had many questions about religion and why things were so rigid. It made you uncomfortable. You stopped attending a short while after your thirteenth birthday.

There were some things that never changed however. You still wore your crucifix around your neck, it was a gift from your father at your first Holy communion. You found you could never take it off even if you wanted to. It felt as if it was welded into your skin and you felt bare without it. It was probably because it was from your father that you didn’t want to take it off. Your father had suffered with debilitating depression since you were ten after the loss of his brother. It had become hard for your mother to take care of you and your brothers. It was then that the yearly tradition of vacationing in France began. You and your brothers were shipped off to your grandparents every summer for 3 months so your mother could have a break from it all. You never really minded, you enjoyed being by the lakes.

Your grandparents house looked over the largest lake in the village. It was surrounded with beautiful native pine trees and small villas that blended in with the scenery seamlessly. After your meal you helped your siblings clear up and wash the dishes, still watching over the lake as you did so. You wanted to go back out there and continue your painting but the blazing sun said otherwise. You decided to take a nap instead and enjoy your break.

You found yourself attending church that Sunday. Your grandparents had finally worn you down, insisting that it would make you feel better and you’d make some friends. That it would even help you with your art work. You were exhausted of their constant nagging so in the end you just gave in. You were curious too, as to who this new priest was and why he was so special. Your grandmother had been talking about him non stop all week. How he’d come over from South Korea and he could apparently speak seven languages, including French of course.

When you arrived at the church that morning the sun had already began to beat down on you. You could feel the sweat dripping from your hair and down your neck. It didn’t help that you were already desperately uncomfortable walking into a place that made you feel like an outsider. Like you were a freak for thinking differently to everyone else inside, even though their rules were so rigid and based on a book written so long ago. However you were now sat on a pew, sandwiched between your older brother Kaspar and your grandmother. You couldn’t see much from where you were sitting, other than a large statue of the Virgin Mary that almost touched the ceiling at the front of the church. You couldn’t help think she looked sad. You wondered how long she’d stood there at the bow of the church. How many services she’d sat through and what she thought of them. Your attention was snatched from her when your grandmother touched your leg and indicated that the new priest had started his service.

The priest was tall, handsome and well spoken. He spoke mostly in French which you struggled to understand but sometimes switched to English. The service felt as if it went on forever. You were so hot and sweaty as the end neared, you couldn’t wait to get out and breath some fresh air. Many people got up to go and meet the new priest at the end of the service, your grandparents were included in that group. They waited in line for their turn to meet this, person. That’s all he was. You wondered why they were so excited. Your grandparents dragged you up too, along with your brothers and as you neared the front you noticed two equally as tall and handsome men stood next to him. They were younger, and you thought they may be his sons. You could feel yourself getting hotter and hotter as you moved closer. The one you deemed to be the youngest had the coldest and most attractive face you’d ever seen. Your face flushed red as you got closer.

“Thank you so much for coming.” The priest spoke as you got to the front. He shook your grandparents and brothers hands before getting to you. You were still so dazed by his son that you didn’t realise the priests hand stretched out to shake yours. Your grandmother nudged you and you quickly shook his hand. “These are my sons, Donghae,” he pointed to the oldest one, “and Jeno.” You could feel your throat close up as Jeno looked you up and down. A small smirk adorning his lips. Your grandfather finished the conversation and you were on your way again. Jeno’s face had become engrained in your mind. He was all you could think about on the drive back to the house and all you could think about when you went to bed that night.

When the following Sunday rolled around, you were the first one out of bed and ready to go. Your grandmother was surprised but extremely happy, thinking that you’d reconnected with your faith. But in reality you just wanted to see Jeno again. To look at his breathtaking face. You sat closer to the front on this day, making sure you could get a glimpse of the intimidating get enticing boy. You could feel yourself turning red when he turned around. You could feel his cold eyes burning deep into your soul. Maybe this was religion, you thought. Maybe he was God.

When the service ended, Jeno was the first one standing up, ready to leave. You quickly stood up too, racing out the pews to try and talk to him. Maybe to ask if he needs any help adjusting to the village. You did only live ten minutes from the church and you were always around if he needed anything. Your heart was crushed however when several other young girls surrounded him, trying to get his attention. Disheartened, you followed your family out of the church. Kaspar, your older brother had immediately realised what you wanted to do when you stood up. He knew last week from the way you looked at Jeno that you were interested in him. On your way out of the church he nudged you, “You like him, hey?” He teased, “What? No, he’s probably really conservative. He’s a priests son.” You nudged him back. You had experience with boys back home, you’d even briefly had a boyfriend. You never shied away from male attention, in fact, you welcomed it. You did well with the boys back in your home town and got bored here in France where there was barely any boys your age, and if there were, none of them interested you. This is probably why Jeno excited you so much. He was the first attractive boy you’d seen here in France.

“Really? Your face turned into a tomato as soon as he looked at you, tomat ansigt.” You shuddered at the nickname. Your mother had given it to you as a child when your face would turn as red as a tomato whenever you were embarrassed. “Don’t call me that mærkelig dreng.” You hit his shoulder earning a harsh glance from your grandmother as you got back into the car.

“I need some things from the market. Could you take Oliver down there and get everything on this list please?” Your grandmother asked you as she wondered into the living room where you sat on the old worn out leather couch, reading your book. She handed you the list as you reached your arm out. “Why do we need all this stuff?” You we’re inquisitive as to why there were so many items on the list, and good stuff too, like cake and ice cream. “Father Lee, the priest is coming tonight for dinner. Monsieur Clement and his wife and daughters and coming too. Make sure you get everything on the list please.” She widened her eyes as she emphasised. You called for Oliver and headed out to the market.

“I hate Monsieur Clement, he just talks about himself all the time.” Oliver whined as you headed into the grocery shop to finish your shopping. “I know Oli. Mormor said that his daughters are coming too. Maybe they’ll be your age.” He shrugged at your comment and picked up the next thing on your list. You doubted that though, Monsieur Clement was a retired business man in his early sixties. He had a substantial amount of money from what you could tell and he’d been living next to your grandparents for the past three years. You’d never met his daughters but part of you doubted that they’d be Oliver’s age. Probably more like yourself and Kaspar’s age, in their early twenties.

Your parents had had yourself and Kaspar when they were young and Oliver was a surprise slightly later in life. You and Kaspar had been so excited to have a little brother and you both absolutely adore him and constantly dote over him. Especially now with your dad practically out of the picture and your mother focused on caring for him and working too, you and Kaspar tried your hardest to make Oliver’s childhood a good one. Oliver was now eleven, you twenty and Kaspar twenty three but things hadn’t changed much from when you were young. You were a very close knit trio.

Your mind wondered back to the list and to the dinner, you were too focused on the fact that Monsieur Clement was attending to remember the fact that Father Lee, Jeno’s father may was attending too. You wondered if Jeno and his brother would be coming. You hoped they were. Maybe you’d finally get to talk to him. You and Oliver had finished up your shopping and began your walk home. It was sweltering outside. You’d gotten used to the cold air in the grocery shop and stepping outside felt like stepping into a furnace. Your eyes stopped on 2 figures outside the local Café. You recognised them to be Jeno and his brother. You watched them for a second. Jeno had a cigarette in one hand and his coffee in the other. Maybe he’s not so conservative if he smokes, you thought. Or maybe not, you don’t know him. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Oliver shouts your name. He’s already half way down the street, waiting for you. Jeno and Donghae look up to see what the shouting is about and notice you. It’s quite obvious that you were looking at them from your position and stance. You flush red when you see that Jeno is staring at you, his face still cold and stern. You spin on your feet in embarrassment and quickly follow Oliver back home.

“Are Father Lee’s sons coming tonight?” Kaspar asks your grandmother whilst helping her with the cooking. You’re sitting on a chair in the kitchen, peeling some vegetables. You look up to see Kaspar smirking at you. “You hope so, don’t you.” He carries on, pointing at you. You roll your eyes when your grandmother looks at you and shakes her head. Your grandmother doesn’t answer but you realise they probably are when there are quite a few places set at the table.

When your guests finally arrive you notice the absence of the one person you really wanted to see. Kaspar notices your dissatisfaction and pats you on the back. “Don’t worry, Father Lee said he’d be here soon. He’s just finishing up something at home.” You breathed a sigh of relief but were annoyed at your brother for noticing and reading your facial expressions so easily. Monsieur Clement’s daughters were like goddesses. They were a similar age to Kaspar and yourself much to Oliver’s dismay. Kaspar wasn’t wasting time introducing himself however. You rolled your eyes at him and poked him in the side every time he faked a laugh at something one of the daughters said or when he over exaggerated something that happened to him as a child for effect.

You were still waiting for Jeno when you’d finished eating. Your grandmother was about to bring out dessert and you were helping her tidy the table. Whilst in the kitchen you heard a commotion outside and realised Jeno had turned up. His father seemed very pleased to see him, maybe thinking he wouldn’t turn up at all. You rushed into the bathroom and tidied up your appearance, brushing your hair off of your face and smoothing out your dress before stepping outside to greet Jeno. Monsieur Clement’s daughters had wasted no time in introducing themselves, clearly flirting with him. Jeno was very gracious in the way he spoke to them, soaking up their stupid comments. You took a seat next to Kaspar when your grandmother bought the dessert out. You stayed pretty quiet whilst the others chatted amongst themselves. “Jeno I realised I never introduced my grandchildren to you. This is Kaspar, my eldest grandson. My only and very beautiful granddaughter, and my youngest grandson.” Your grandmother pointed you all out as she spoke. Jeno looked at you up and down like he did in the church. It made your heart flutter. “What do you all do?” Father Lee asked. “I’ve just finished up university back in Denmark, I studied architecture.” Kaspar spoke, Father Lee nodded his head impressed. “What about you two?” You stayed silent for a second hoping Oliver would speak, Jeno didn’t take his eyes off you for a second making you feel desperately awkward. But Oliver didn’t speak, probably not knowing what to say in front of all these people. “I’m studying fine art at university. In my second year.” You managed to squeeze out. “Wow, are you enjoying it? I’d love to see some of your work.” Father Lee sounded surprised. “I’ve been painting lots over the summer, I have a few paintings inside.” You managed to string a proper sentence together as if you weren’t melting under the stare of the priests youngest son. “She’s really very good Father. I too have an interest in paintings,” Monsieur Clement started as if he has any idea about your painting ability but you realised it was just an opportunity for him to speak about himself. You were glad though.

The sun began to set and everyone was getting ready to leave. You watched as Jeno helped clear the table and your grandmother insisted he sit down and she was absolutely fine. You leaned over the railings of the balcony that looked over the lake. You didn’t realise Jeno approaching you. “It’s really very beautiful here. I didn’t realise it would be when my father told me about it.” You felt your soul leave your body. He was talking to you. You needed to say something. “It is. I love it here.” You just about managed to say. “I’d love to see some of your paintings if you’d let me. I’d assume this is a great place to get inspiration.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. He actually wanted to see your paintings. God, help. “There’s a couple upstairs, I’ll bring them down if you want. They’re not very good, they were only quick ones.” You nervously spoke. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

He followed you into the house, waiting in the living room, not wanting to follow you into your room. “They’re just of the lakes.” You bought down two. Those two were your grandmothers favourites. “These are really amazing. You’re so talented. I could only dream of being able to paint like this. Have you ever considered selling your work?” He sounded to passionate as he spoke, he was genuinely impressed with your skills. “My grandma keeps telling me too but I’m not sure.” You sit next to him as he holds one of the paintings, still looking at it in depth. “You should. You’re really good.” He places it down on the coffee table as his father peeks his head around the door. “Time to go Jen.” Jeno stands up and follows his father, not before stopping and turning around to look at you again. “It was really nice meeting you. I’ll see you around?” He asks, “Yeah of course. It’s a small village.” You giggle awkwardly. He gives you a small wave before disappearing with his dad.

It was a while before you saw Jeno again. He hadn’t attended his fathers services for the past couple of weeks and you couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gone. You’d even bumped into Donghae whilst at the Saturday market in the village. “Is Jeno okay? I haven’t seen him around much.” You couldn’t help but ask. His brother gave a small smile before replying, “He’s okay. Just doesn’t cope well in the heat. I’ll tell him you asked after him.” You felt like it wasn’t true but didn’t probe this man you didn’t really know for any more answers.

It was another scorching afternoon by the lake when you saw Jeno again. He was swimming in the lake with his brother, talking to your brothers as they swam too. When he noticed you he put up a hand and waved, you smiled back and waved too. After a while, Jeno came out of the lake and headed towards you, grabbing a towel from where he and his brother had left their belongings. “It’s beautiful.” He said when he reached you, gesturing to your painting. “Thanks, I’m nowhere near finished though.” You continued on and he took a seat on a rock next to you. You tried your best to concentrate on your work but the way the water droplets slid down his muscular shoulders had you extremely distracted. “What do you like about it here?” He suddenly asked, surprising you. “What isn’t there to like? It’s beautiful and quiet.” You found yourself looking directly at him now, watching the way his muscles flexed as he turned around to face you. “You don’t find it boring at all?” He squints his eyes in the sun. You shrug, “Not really. It’s quite different to home so it’s nice to escape.” You thought back to your home in Copenhagen. The busyness sort of made you cringe. You loved home but it was nice to get away from the bustling streets, especially in summer.

“What’s home like? I’ve never been to Denmark.” You wondered why he was talking to you, not that you weren’t grateful, this God like being was actually paying you attention so there wasn’t much to complain about. “I love Copenhagen. But it sometimes feels depressing,” You thought about your dad, “It’s really very beautiful though. You should visit sometime.” He nodded. “What about you? I’ve never been to South Korea either.” His eyes lit up when you mentioned his home country. “I desperately miss it. I like busy. I like loud and bright. For me, it feels like an escape. I can be myself there. Being stuck with my dad and brother and not knowing anyone, or the language. It’s hard.” He looked down, playing with a stone at his feet. “I get that. My french isn’t great.” He smiled up at you after you said that and then you both fell silent for a while. He watched as his brother and your brothers played in the water. Something about the water made everyone turn into a child again. That was one of the things you loved about it. You took this opportunity to get a better look at his body. He must work out, you thought. His body looked as if it was calved by angels. So sharp, yet soft. His beautiful tan skin still bestrewn with little water droplets glistening in the sun.

“Are you going in today?” He asked, gesturing to the lake. “I might do later. I want to get this painting finished soon.” You went back to your painting, pretending that that was what you were doing the whole time. “Come in now. It’ll be fun.” He stood up and began walking back into the lake, before turning round again. You assumed he was waiting for you. Not much could get you to stop getting in the lake on a normal day. Especially if there was a very beautiful man trying to get you to go in. When you got up you noticed the way Jeno checked you out. His eyes shuffling up and down your body, his tongue poking out the side of his lips. You followed him into the lake and you both swam towards your brothers.

“Hun er med!” Kaspar cheered. “Jeg er kold, jeg vil snart ud.” Oliver whined as he swam over to you, holding onto your shoulders. “Why are you speaking Danish?” It was unusual for your you and your siblings to speak in Danish when you where in France. You weren’t sure why, it had just always been that way. “Donghae wants to learn some Danish so we’re only speaking in Danish now.” Oliver swam past you, “og hvordan kan du være kold? Det er så varmt.” Oliver shrugged before splashing you with the water, you squealed, not ready for the water to touch your neck yet. Jeno hadn’t thought Danish could sound so beautiful until it came out of your mouth. He smiled at you as Oliver continued to splash the water at you, you splashed him back and before you knew it your grandmother was calling you from the house for dinner.

“Are you boys staying for dinner? We’d love to have you.” Your grandfather asked as you all walked onto the deck, soaking wet. “We wouldn’t want to impose.” Donghae spoke, he was very well spoken, like his father. “Nonsense! Stay!” Your grandmother said as she bought a serving dish of food out. “Thank you very much. This is too kind.” Jeno said as he took a seat, next to you. You smiled at him as you grabbed him a plate. “Don’t be silly. It’s nice to have you here for dinner again.” You said. He gave you a very warm smile back, before thanking you for the plate.

You enjoyed dinner. It was nice to get to talk to Jeno more. You learnt that Jeno was very popular at school, and he played soccer. You could guess that he was popular. He probably had girls dropping to their knees for him on a daily basis. Jeno now studied law at a prestigious university in Seoul and was very hard working, according to his brother. You could tell Donghae was extremely proud of Jeno. It was heartwarming. You also learnt that Jeno had three cats at home and that he missed them very much. You mention to him that there’s many strays here in France and that if he left food for them, they’d probably never leave him alone. He liked the idea of that. Despite being allergic to cats, which made everyone at the table laugh.

When dinner was done, both Jeno and Donghae stayed to help tidy up. Your grandmother was very impressed with their manners and said she would make sure to tell their father how respectful they were. You could see Jeno’s face scrunch up at the mention of his father. You wondered what it was about him that made Jeno do that. After cleaning up, Jeno and Donghae left and walked home to the cottage attached to the church. Not before thanking your grandparents profusely for the meal and for welcoming them into their home again. You really liked how polite they were to your grandparents. It made you a hundred times more attracted to Jeno.

Jeno had invited you to the lake this time. You couldn’t help but feel sick with excitement that he wanted to go swimming with you. He’d knocked on the door that evening desperate to see you. For some reason he couldn’t get you out of his head and he just wanted to be near you. You made him feel something he hadn’t felt before. Especially since arriving in France. “Nice bikini.” He said as you walked down to the lake together, your hands brushing past his every so often, making electricity spark through your nervous system. “Thanks.” You smiled up at him. He was referring to your old mismatched bikini you had pulled out of your bottom draw as quickly as you could when he came round. Your other much nicer ones were in the wash. You piled your towels on the shore and both walked in to the lake together. “This is nice.” You mumbled as you got deep enough to swim. The sun was setting over the two of you, making him look even more ethereal. He thought the same about you too. Your pretty little face lit up when he mentioned the cats again. He’d tried to feed them but none of them let him stroke them. “It’s okay there’s loads of friendly ones that come to my house in the evening. We’ll probably see them when we go back. Mormor likes to make sure they’ve had a good dinner.”

After he asked what a Mormor was you explained some more Danish words to him. He just liked to hear you talk, especially in your mother tongue. You asked him to teach you some Korean. He immediately taught you the swear words of course, making you gently slap his shoulder after he got you to say them without knowing what they meant. He liked the way your hands felt on his skin. They were so soft and kind. The sun had finally set over the two of you, bringing darkness. The lake at night was probably your favourite. You didn’t ever really get the opportunity to go in it at night as your brothers were usually too tired or playing games. Jeno loved the way your face caught the light from the moon. He thought you were more beautiful than ever. He really wanted to kiss you right now.

“Do you like going to church?” You suddenly ask him, making him snap out of his daze. “No, not really. I feel I’m obliged to because of my dad though.” You nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Me neither. My family are pretty religious. I never used to go but I was forced to when there was a new priest,” you referenced his dad, making his face scrunch up again, “But I wanted to go after I saw you there. Your face made it more bearable.” You giggled, his face lit up. “Really?” He moved closer towards you and you placed a hand at the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’re not bad looking you know.” You said softly, placing your other arm behind his neck and finally securing both your arms around him. He felt like he was in heaven. As did you.

“I’m surprised to see you wear a cross then.” He looked down at your necklace. “My dad gave it to me. It feels weird to take it off.” You said, sadness laced through your voice. He didn’t ask about your dad, it was probably a sore subject, he decided. “I wouldn’t even call myself religious at all. I never understood it, never liked it.” Jeno suddenly said, boldly. “Me too! It feels wrong to me.” Jeno nodded at your comment. He felt close to you at that moment. He’d never been able to share his thoughts on his so called religion with anyone else. He was scared they would judge him. He was glad he could confide in you. After all, you were pretty much his only friend in this quiet little village. “What do you think made you feel like that? For me, it was when my church back home in Denmark was preaching about how being gay was wrong, and how you shouldn’t have sex before marriage. It doesn’t make sense. It’s so wrong.” Your arms were still wrapped around Jeno’s neck securely. He’d never felt so safe with anyone else to talk about this sort of thing before so he used it as an opportunity to get some things off his chest.

“The church my dad used to run, back in Korea. It was filled with people who believe those things. And to hear my dad talk about them too. It made me feel ill. I have friends back home that were, in my dads words, sinners. He didn’t like me hanging out with them because they believed differently to him. I’m an adult I should be able to do what I want, see whoever I want. But he didn’t see it like that. That’s why we’re here. He wanted my brother an I to get away from the sins in our home town and start fresh. He was hoping we’d suddenly turn to Christ and be born again.” Jeno looked down at the thin strip of water between the two of you. “I’ll never forgive him for taking me away from everything I know. This place, it’s beautiful don’t get me wrong. But it’s not for me. It’s too slow.” You pulled yourself closer to him, your lips close, to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry. That sounds really shitty. I promise it’s not that bad here. We’ll go into the market if you want. Try and do some less boring things.” You proposed, “It’s not boring here with you.” He said, looking back into your eyes. The distance between your lips was minute. He wanted to badly to kiss you then and there as did you. “We could do this everyday if you wanted.” You whispered, “I’d like that.” And with that he pressed his lips to yours.

“What’s going on with you and Jeno? You were awfully pleased with yourself last night.” Kaspar asks as he walks into your room, disturbing your peace. “We’re just friends. It’s nice to hang out with someone other than your brothers you know.” You throw your book at him and stand up. You wondered what Jeno was doing right now. “Touché.” Kaspar said as he walked out. “Oh and Jeno is here by the way, thought I should let you know.” He poked his head round the door and grinned. You quickly ran downstairs behind him. “Hey! What are you doing here?” You asked intuitively. “Just thought I’d take you up on that offer of going to the market.” He shrugged. “Of course! Let me grab my bag.” You rushed back upstairs to grab your bag, fixing your hair in the bathroom mirror and headed back down.

“So how have you been?” He asks shyly. “You don’t have to be awkward with me just because we kissed.” You roll your eyes playfully at him before pushing him out the door. “Noted.” He grabbed your hand as you walked into the village. You looked down at your hands every so often as you passed different cottages and villas, fields full of lavender and smiled as Jeno squeezed your hands tighter. Even though you’d only known each other a few weeks, only spoken to each other a handful of times, it all felt right. “Hey can we go in here?” Jeno snapped you out of your thoughts and pointed towards a vintage store that seemed in the middle of nowhere, only surrounded by a few houses. “Sure, why not?”

The store was vintage alright. It definitely hadn’t been updated since the fifties. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust. Your eyes were drawn to the back section of the store, it had various different sunglasses and hats. You tried on a pair of sunglasses and turned to Jeno, “What do you think? Sexy?” They were large, pink heart shaped glasses that made you look ridiculous. “Oh definitely.” Jeno smirked, “you want them?” He asked, stepping towards you and pushing them down your nose slightly. You slowly leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips, “Of course, they make me look super sexy!” Jeno smiled and placed another kiss on your cheek, making you blush a deep shade of red of course.

You and Jeno tried on more wacky sunglasses before you noticed the shop keeper beginning to become annoyed with you both. “I think we should probably go.” Jeno gritted his teeth awkwardly as you headed towards the front of the shop. You placed the heart shaped sunglasses on the front desk and began to look through your back for your purse, but before you could, Jeno whipped out his wallet and placed a bill on the counter. “Don’t be silly, let me pay.” You tried to give the bill back to him as the shop owner rolled her eyes. “No. Let me get them.” The lady took the bill and you two headed out the store, with your sunglasses on.

You walked past the church on your way to the market. You could feel Jeno stiffen up at the sight of it. You gave his hand a squeeze and smiled up at him. “There’s another vintage store in town. Actually there’s only 3 stores, ones a vintage store and the other two are grocery stores.” You grinned up at him, knowing he probably would find it boring. He didn’t though, he just loved being with you.

After your wild shopping experience, you and Jeno found yourself sitting outside the village café, the one you had seen Jeno and his brother sitting at a few weeks prior. “I’ve had a really great time with you. Thanks for showing me the village.” Jeno reached over the table to grab your hands. “I know it’s probably been boring for you but I did try.” He held your hands slightly tighter, “I had a lovely time. I like spending time with you. And I like kissing you.” Your face broke out into a grin at the last sentence. “I like kissing you too.” You leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his lips. You did really like kissing him.

That evening Jeno had stayed for dinner again. You got the sense that he didn’t really have family dinners so it probably felt comforting to have them. You could relate to that. Your ‘family dinners’ at home were usually you sitting in your room working on a painting whilst picking at some cheese and crackers. They weren’t exactly dinners at all. Your mother didn’t really cook, she was always quite busy with work. And your dad, well, he had barely left the house in ten years and couldn’t really move from his bed or the couch so dinner wasn’t really a thing. Let alone a family dinner. That was probably part of the reason you loved being with your grandparents so much. They loved taking care of you all and making extravagant meals, making sure you had everything you needed. Your grandfather would always drive into the nearest town with you to get more painting supplies if you needed them and your grandmother would sew up a hole on your clothes if you needed. It felt very homely and comfortable.

“What were you two up to today then?” Your grandfather asked you and Jeno. “We walked into the village and went into some vintage shop. I got these sunglasses.” You flicked the sunglasses from your head to your nose. “I was wondering about those.” He chuckled and went back to his meal. “Kaspar took me to the lake on the other side of the village today and there was some other boys there and we jumped off the jetty into the lake a thousand times. It was really fun.” Oliver smiled as you leaned over to pinch his cheek. “I’m glad you had fun Oli.” He hummed a yes and put another mouthful of salad into his mouth.

“Jeno I’ve been meaning to ask, I’ve been wanting to set up a baking group for the other elderly people in the village and was wondering if we could use the church hall to host it.” Your grandmother asked as she placed her final dish on the table and sat down. Jeno shifted in his seat, “Uh yeah, you’d have to ask him but I’m sure it would be okay.” You placed a hand over his under the table and gave it a squeeze before you changed the subject. “Mormor this salad is amazing. Did you grow these tomatoes?”

Your room was quite simple but your grandparents had allowed you to decorate it however you wanted. You had some fairy lights wrapped around the bedroom and your grandfather had helped you put up some of your favourite art work on your walls. Jeno liked your room, it felt very much like you. It was the first time he’d been in it. He noticed a shelf full of books and a floral piggy bank with a note on top, ‘For London’ it said. He smiled and sat down on your bed next to you. “So what did you want to do?” Jeno could barely finish his sentence before you grabbed his face and kissed him. He leaned into the kiss and bought his hands to your waist. You pulled away for a second before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on the bed to lay beside you. He nuzzled his head into your neck and placed a few soft kisses on it. “You’re pretty.” He finally broke the silence after you’d both laid there for a while. It was dark outside and you’d spent the whole day in the lake again. Jeno was starting to see why you loved the lake so much. “You’re pretty too.” You smiled down at him and placed a kiss on his head.

“If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?” You randomly asked, “Where did that come from?” He asked, stroking your leg. “But since you asked, I’d go to this small little village in the south of France, and I’d be laying in bed with a very pretty girl whilst she asks me random questions.” You grinned at his answer, “You wouldn’t go home?” You asked, unsure of what his answer would be. He knew you were referencing his home in Seoul when you asked this. “Hm, I do miss my home but right now I’m enjoying laying with you.” You ran your fingers down his back sending shivers down his spine. He loved the feeling he got when you touched him.

“Do you believe in God?” You shot another random question at him. He didn’t know how to answer this one because he genuinely didn’t know the answer. “I don’t know, do you?” He asked. You pondered for a while before saying, “I think so. It’s probably because I’m scared to believe otherwise. I would like to believe that there’s a heaven and that there’s someone there looking out for you. Even if His previous decisions were questionable.” He hummed in agreement. “When did your dad become a priest?” He shuffled to get more comfortable, “Not very long ago, maybe ten years? He divorced my mother to become one. It was a strange time. It’s not usual to hear of priests with children. I was worried what would happen when we came here because our old church had gotten used to it.” You had wondered why your village’s new Catholic priest had two sons at the time but never really questioned it. You wondered if anyone else had too, they probably had knowing the people in this village.

“I’m sorry that happened.” You whispered whilst placing another kiss on his head. “I think that’s why I’m so adverse to religion. My father denounced everything, his wife and almost his two children for a job. He’s moved us over to a country we no barely anything about for a job. You don’t even have to divorce if you’re already married to become a priest. I think he just went crazy.” Jeno shrugged whilst you stroked his hair to comfort him. “I know it seems strange that Donghae and I are both adults but we can’t make our own decision about where we live. But he’s controlling, it didn’t feel like we had a choice.” Jeno huffed and nuzzled deeper into your neck. “I understand. Thank you for sharing that with me. I know stuff like that is hard to talk about.” Jeno placed another kiss on your neck before you started speaking again. “I think I’m the opposite. I have so much freedom that it’s scary. My mother is a workaholic. Well I guess she has to be to keep a roof over our heads. It seems mean to say this but I don’t think she really cares where we are or what we’re doing as long as we’re not causing problems for her. My dad barely leaves the house. He fell into a deep depression after his brother passed away when I was eight or nine. It’s like he’s dead too. He’s alive but he’s dead.” You felt a pang of sadness hit your chest. You didn’t talk about your dad much because it hurt too much. You had a great relationship with him until your uncle had died and after that you completely lost him. You suddenly felt guilty that you’d offloaded your problems onto Jeno after he’d just poured his heart out to you. “Is that why you like it here so much? It feels more like home?” He sits up and asks you. “Yeah, I think so.” You whisper. Jeno presses a kiss to your forehead, then one on your nose and then finally one on your lips. “We’ll go to the lake tomorrow to swim after church, hey?” He placed a hand on your cheek, “Yeah I’d like that.”

You awoke in the morning with Jeno softly snoring with his head on your chest. Oh Lord. You must have both fallen asleep after talking. “Jeno, wake up.” You ran your fingers through his hair, not wanting to wake him up abruptly but also enough to actually wake him up because you were sure your grandparents wouldn’t be happy about a boy sleeping in your room. Not that you’d meant it. But even so, they wouldn’t be happy. He mumbled something incoherent as he shuffled on top of you. “Jen, we need to get up.” He sleepily lifted his head and when he noticed where he was his eyes opened wide. “Oh shit, sorry. We must have been tired last night.” He lifted himself off of you and sat on the edge of the bed whilst you started to get up and move around. He watched as you picked up some clothes off the floor and placed them in your washing basket. It was daytime now so things were much more visible. Your room was messy, skincare stuff and makeup was scattered all over your desk, clothes on the floor and your painting stuff just chucked in the corner. “Don’t worry my room is horrific. This is clean.” You rolled your eyes at him and threw one of your t-shirts at him. “I’d this for me? It looks a bit small?” He smiled and you rolled your eyes again throwing another item of clothing at him.

It wasn’t long before you arrived at the church with your family and Jeno. Jeno’s father immediately pulled him aside, he didn’t look happy. You wondered what they were talking about. You could see Father Lee gesturing for Jeno to sit next to his brother. Jeno gave you a smile of sympathy before sitting next to his brother. You sat in the middle with your grandparents and brother. You looked up at Mary whilst Father Lee started his service. You wondered if she cared about what was going on below her. She’d probably heard it all a million times. You sort of admired her despite your aversion to church and to religion. She had stood at the top of the church all this time, silently watching for all these years. Your eyes wondered around to the various paintings on the ceiling. How long did it take to paint those? And how high did the ladder have to be to reach the top? And how did the people painting them know what Jesus looked like? They had no reference. You couldn’t deny the churches beauty. Lots of people had obviously worked very hard to create this place hundreds of years ago. You decided to watch the back of Jeno’s head for a while. It was lowered for most of the time. He only looked up when his father spoke a word he understood, or when his brother spoke to him. It made you feel sad.

Jeno had been invited around for dinner for the umpteenth time that week by your grandparents. They could see how happy he was making you and could probably see that Jeno needed some company too. It was late when Jeno suggested you both walk into the village. Your grandparents made sure to tell him to take good care of you as it was dark and he assured them he would never let anything bad happen to you. That made you smile. You loosely held hands as you walked. You could see some horses had been put into a pasture along the road and you headed towards them, stroking their noble heads and giggling when they tried to nibble at your jumper. You passed the church a few minutes later and you were surprised when Jeno crossed the road to head towards it. You were even more surprised that the church was unlocked when Jeno pushed one of the large wooden doors open. “I want to show you something.” He said as you followed behind him. He headed towards the front and looked up, “Despite everything I feel about church and religion and my dad, I’ve always quite liked Mary.” He spoke softly, you held his hand close to you and leaned your head on his shoulder whilst you both looked up at the statue. “She’s managed to fool all of these people into believing she was a virgin despite getting pregnant. It’s amazing really.” He almost laughed at his own statement. You moved your attention to Jeno’s face as he looked up at the statue. His face must have been calved by angels, if they existed. It was perfect. He was perfect. You moved in front of him so you were facing him and wrapped your arms around him. He returned the gesture and wrapped his arms around you too. “Are you a virgin?” You suddenly ask out of the blue. Jeno is shocked by your question and almost chokes whilst trying to answer it. “What?” He says, “Are you a virgin?” You repeat, this time looking up at him. “I have a controlling overly religious father, what do you think? He raises an eyebrow. “Wait, you actually are? But you’re so hot!” You place and hand on his chest, your mouth wide open. “Thank you, I guess.” You wrap your arms around his neck and place a kiss on his lips. His hands find your waist and you slip your tongue into his mouth. “You kiss well for a virgin.” You couldn’t but say it. “I’ve have kissed girls before!” He sounds offended but doesn’t say anymore as you press your lips to his again.

Your arms unwrap themselves from Jeno’s neck and your hands find your way to his chest and then lower, and then slightly lower. “Is this okay?” You ask when you pull away from his lips. He looked to pretty right now, his lips red and slightly swollen. He mumbles out a “yes,” and you drop to your knees. In a church. God if you are real and you’re watching us right now, please forgive me, you thought as you began to unbutton Jeno’s pants. He watches you as you pull his underwear down, and take his cock into your hand. You look up at him again and he swears this is the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. You pump his cock a few times before taking it into your mouth. You make sure to retain eye contact as you suck, wanting to see Jeno’s reaction as you gave him head in the middle of his fathers church. It felt so unbelievably good, he thought, the fact that it was so wrong excited him. You kept looking up at him through your eyelashes as you went, making sure to take him right to the back of your throat. He threw his head back and groaned as you did this so you knew you were doing a good job. “Fuck, this is amazing.” He moaned and placed his hands on the back of your head. You could sense he was getting close as he pushed slightly on your head and let out a loud groan. “Come in my mouth.” You said as you took your mouth of his cock for a second. He quickly pushed your head back down and you giggled before taking it back into your mouth. And then he came. Right into your mouth, some spilling out past your lips and onto your chin. You swallowed before coming back up to face him. “Holy shit. I have faith. How could God not be real if having your dick sucked in a church felt that good?” You joked and you giggled at his comment as he took your face into his hand and wiped his cum off of your lips and chin. “Thank you baby.” He placed a kiss to your forehead before bringing you into his chest for a hug. “No problem.” You grinned cheekily at him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “You should probably pull your pants up and get me out of here though. It’s late.” He smiled and placed another kiss on your forehead before you both headed back to your house.

“Really, thank you though.” Jeno said as he pulled the covers over you both. “Stop thanking me! It’s the least I could do!” You giggle and throw your arm over his stomach. “What random question are you gonna ask me tonight?” He asked as he placed a hand on your head, reminiscent of the nights earlier events, but this time to stroke your hair. “Hm, who is your favourite artist?” You run your hands down his chest and abs, feeling over the beautifully crafted muscles. “You.” He says immediately. “No like a real artist.” You look up at him and he swears it almost makes him hard again. “You are a real artist. You make art, beautiful art, and, you’re real.” He says very surely. “Thank you.” You lean your head into his chest. “Are we gonna risk you sleeping over again? Yeah I think we are, you’re very comfortable.” You say as your eyes flutter shut.

“Stop!” You squeal as Jeno lifts you over his shoulder and quickly walks into the lake, following your brothers. “No! Come and have some fun!” Your brothers laugh, enjoying their sisters misfortune but also enjoying seeing you so happy. “I was having fun!” You try to argue but it doesn’t seem to make any difference as Jeno dunks you into the lake. When you come up from the water you push Jeno back to try and get him to fall back into the water but you fail miserably and fall yourself, right into his chest. “Aw what a lovely thank you hug for making enjoy your day instead of sitting on the side just watching us.” You give in and wrap your hands around his neck placing a kiss on his cheek. Oliver makes a gagging sound and splashed you both, Jeno immediately unwraps himself from you and chases your brother round as fast as he can despite the water trying to stop him. Kaspar makes his way towards you, “I like this version of you. All happy and loved up. It’s nice.” You lay back in the water and watch the clouds above you. “But what’s gonna happen when we have to leave for Denmark again?” You hadn’t even thought about the fact you’d have to go back at the end of the summer and it made you feel sick. “I don’t know. But I don’t really care right now.” You stand upright again and look at your brother, a pout on your lips. “Sorry for bringing it up. Just want to prepare you.” You knew your brother only ever had good intentions. He’d never want to hurt you, he loved you far too much. You enjoyed watching Jeno chase Oliver for a while longer before you decided you were too cold and needed to get out of the water.

Jeno joined you by the lakeside a few minutes later as you lay out on your towel, enjoying the sunshine with your new sunglasses. The lake had a mix of stones and sand surrounding it and you’d found a good spot with no stones. He laid next to you on his side on the towel you’d brought him. He reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze when he retrieved it. “You’re so pretty.” He said, which made you break out into a smile. You felt all your worries leave your body whenever he spoke. “Even in my sunglasses?” You teased, “Even in your sunglasses.” He winked at you before he headed back into the lake with your brothers. You sat up and watched them for a while, playing and thrashing about in the water. Oliver had brought a ball with him and they were throwing it about playing some sort of game they’d made up. You couldn’t help but smile watching Jeno get on so well with your brothers.

Your brothers had never liked your previous boyfriend, if that was what you could even call Jeno, you weren’t sure, you hadn’t spoken about it. Your ex wasn’t exactly interested in having any sort of relationship with your family and it made you sad. When you thought back to it, all he wanted was to have sex with you, and when you weren’t having sex he was distant and cold. You broke up with him after five months, five months too long, you thought, and he was surprised that you’d done it. You couldn’t believe the audacity he had. He was honestly shocked that you wanted to end things with him after he treated you like you like you were just a hook up. You could remember Oliver being so relieved when you told him your boyfriend wouldn’t be coming over anymore. “Thank the Lord.” He said. He was only nine.

The boys finally made their way out the lake, complaining of hunger. You suggested that instead of bothering your grandmother for food, you’d head out into the village for lunch. Your grandmother never minded cooking for you but you thought she deserved a break, having cooked three meals a day for you for the past two months. You walked back up into the house to get changed, Jeno following behind you. Your grandparents weren’t in anyway, you remembered they’d told you they were driving into the closest town to pick up something your grandfather needed. As you and Jeno walked into your bedroom you caught a whiff of your hair, it smelt of lake. “I’m just gonna shower quickly. I smell of lake.” You told Jeno. Your mind, being in the gutter as always, asked you to invite him in. So you did. “Wanna come shower with me? I don’t share a bathroom with anyone so we’re safe.” You gave him a sultry look. He didn’t have to say anything as he followed you into the bathroom, taking his shirt off as he did so.

You turned on the shower and began undressing. You realised Jeno had never seen you naked before. You suddenly felt insecure, but there wasn’t any going back now. Jeno watched as you took off your bikini top, mesmerised by how beautiful you were. Once you were fully naked you stepped into the shower, “Coming in?” You snapped Jeno out of his daze and he pulled off his shorts and got in with you. “You’re so beautiful.” He ran his hands down your sides. You smile at him and place a kiss on his cheek. Jeno helps you wash your hair and makes sure your conditioner is coating every strand of your hair. Once you’re done you step out, pulling a towel around yourself and pass one to Jeno. He wraps it around his waist and follows you back through the hallway and into your bedroom, thankful you hadn’t been caught by your brothers.

When you arrive at the village café you sit down on one of the tables outside. Having already decided on your orders on the walk there, Jeno and Kaspar go inside to order your meals. ��You like Jeno a lot don’t you?” Oliver asks you. “I do Oli.” You smile at him, “I like Jeno too. He’s very nice. He’s nice to you too.” You feel bad that Oliver had probably picked up on the way your ex had treated you. It probably worried him. But you’re grateful that he likes Jeno. When Kaspar and Jeno come out they have your drinks. Jeno places your coffee in front of you and sits down next to you. He immediately grabs your hand from under the table and rests it on his thigh. You give his hand a squeeze and try your coffee, humming in pleasure at its taste.

It’s three in the morning and you can’t sleep. Jeno had decided that after your walk to see the horses in the pasture that he should probably go home and sleep in his own bed that night. He had mentioned that his father wasn’t happy that he was out almost every night and questioned his whereabouts whenever he would see him. Which wasn’t very often these days. You couldn’t sleep without Jeno now though. He’d spoiled you with his fantastically comfortable chest which you used as a pillow. You decided that you weren’t going to sleep any time soon so you got up and out of bed. You sneaked out to the kitchen and out the back door successfully without waking anyone and made your way down to the lake. This was something you did often before Jeno had arrived in the village. Your grandfather had told you off about it, saying it wasn’t safe to go down to the lake on your own at night but you needed to see the water sometimes. Even if you’d been in the lake all day, sometimes you just needed to watch the water.

The moon reflected off the middle of the lake and reflected in your eyes. It looked beautiful, you thought. You sat down on a rock and looked out into the water. It was so calm and peaceful. You thought back to your previous summers spent overlooking the lake. None of them were as happy as this summer. You felt ill at the fact that in three weeks time, you would be on a plane on your way back to Copenhagen. You hadn’t spoken to Jeno about it but both of you knew it was coming. You could feel your heart ripping apart at the thought of the conversation. You couldn’t leave him here, even if you would be back the following summer, you didn’t think you could last nine months without him, you couldn’t even last a night without him. You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard footsteps on the rocks behind you. You spun your head in fear but your heart rate returned to a slightly lower rate when you realised it was Kaspar. “Jesus Kristus, du skræmte mig.” You threw a tiny pebble at his legs. “Sorry.” He chuckled before taking a seat next to you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, his legs spreading out in front of him. “No, I can’t sleep without Jeno.” You shamefully admitted to him. “What are you gonna do when we get home?” He asked. He knew that you were in love with Jeno. His question wasn’t necessarily about your sleeping habits but just in general. What were you going to do? He wrapped an arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder. You both stayed in silence as you watched the little ripples form in the water as the breeze skimmed across it. “We should go in. You need to sleep.” He stood up and offered you a hand. You both headed back into the house and Kaspar dropped you back off at your bedroom. You couldn’t sleep at all that night.

You must have fallen asleep eventually because when you awoke, it was already midday. You wondered into the kitchen to see if anyone was in. You could see your grandparents through the kitchen window tending to their garden and you assumed your brothers were down at the lake. There was only one thing you wanted to do today and that was to see Jeno. You quickly got ready and headed out up the road and into the village. When you got to the church you knocked on the cottage door. Donghae opened it and seemed happy to see you. He let you in and told you Jeno was in his room and he would go and get him. You waited for them and decided to glance around the kitchen. There were portraits of Jesus and Mary, several crucifixes and what you assumed was a Bible quote on the wall, but it was in Korean. When Jeno appeared he seemed surprised to see that you’d come to his home. He immediately took your hand and ushered you to his room without saying anything. “Is your dad in?” You asked when Jeno shut the door. “No thank God, but you can’t just appear here. You’re not my fathers favourite church goer believe it or not.” You smiled knowingly. Jeno’s father would often give you stern looks in church. Jeno had told you that his father believed you were corrupting him. That was true, you thought, thinking back to the ‘incident’ in the church. You didn’t care what Jeno’s father thought of you, you only really cared about Jeno. It was probably pretty selfish to think that but Jeno would probably agree with you.

Jeno guided you to his room and shut the door behind him. He had nothing on his walls other than a crucifix above his bed, which was messy and unmade. There were a few items of clothing strewn around the floor and books piled up on the desk. He noticed you looking around, “I was going to ask you if you’d paint me something I could hang on the wall. Just to make it feel more homely I guess.” You nodded and joined him on the bed. “I would be more than happy to.” You placed a kiss on his cheek. A knock on the door snapped you both out of your daze and Jeno instantly got up, scared it was his father knocking. Donghae opened the door and told Jeno something in Korean. When he shut the door behind him Jeno said, “He’s going out. We probably have a while before anyone gets back.” You then immediately pressed your lips to his and pushed him back on the bed.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and deepened the kiss. His hands slipped under the t-shirt you were wearing, which just so happened to be his. He must have left it at your place after a swim in the lake. You pulled away from him and hooked your fingers under his shirt, beginning to pull it up over his head. He leaned forward to help you and threw the shirt in the pile of clothes on the floor. You immediately ran your hands over his chest, admiring how beautiful he was and went back in for another kiss. Jeno straight away slipped his hands under your shirt and you helped him get better access by taking it off. You also took the opportunity to remove your bra. Jeno had seen your naked body before but this time he felt different, and he swore he’d never seen something so beautiful in his life. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your breast before placing your lips back on his. You ground down on his crotch and could feel him hardening up at the friction. He moaned and ground his hips back up into yours. You continued like this for a while before you decided enough was enough and you needed him. You swung your leg over him and pulled him up by the hands so he was sitting in front of you. You unbuttoned his pants, just like you’d done in the church that day and he stood up to remove them along with his boxers. You took off your shorts and underwear and then got back into the bed. Jeno took a moment to appreciate how perfect everyone was at that moment and how beautiful you looked, waiting for him. He got on top of you, bringing you in for a kiss. “Are you sure you’re ready?” You asked him, placing a hand on his cheek, making sure he wanted to go through with it. He leaned over to his nightstand and rummaged through it, pulling out a condom.

“You were prepared for this, huh?” You smiled at him, kissing him again. He ripped open the condom and rolled it over his cock and lined himself up. “Go ahead.” You eyes rolled back into your head as he pushed into you and you grabbed his shoulders to ground you. “Holy fuck.” He groaned as he began to fuck in and out of you, “You feel so good baby.” He panted as he placed small kisses on your breasts and neck. “Jen, I love you.” It just came out of your mouth. You didn’t mean it to but God you meant it. “I love you too beautiful, I have since the moment I saw you.” You pulled him closer to you and be buried his face in your neck. He fucked in and out of you slowly and carefully. You could feel yourself getting close as could he. “Go faster.” You breathed out. He propped himself up and began to fuck you faster and harder and the feeling in the pit of your stomach grew. You whined out and grabbed on to Jeno’s back, probably leaving marks but you didn’t care at that moment, you felt so good. “I’m gonna cum.” He choked out before he released, shaking and moaning. He pulled out of you and snaked down your body, his head ending up at your pussy. He licked a stripe up you and focused on your clit, sucking on it. It wasn’t long before you came too, grabbing on to his hair as he ate you out. “Thank you baby. I love you.” You pulled him up towards you and placed a kiss on his mouth and pulling him closer to you by wrapping your arms around his neck. He collapsed on top of you, mumbling an “I love you too,” before wrapping his arms around your waist and snuggling into your neck.

It was a beautiful evening as the sun set over the lake and you and Jeno were in the water, your arms around his neck and his around your waist. You’d been meaning to talk to him about your return to Denmark but the right time never came. You weren’t sure that the right time would ever come. But it had to at some point. You pressed a kiss to Jeno’s lips before starting what would probably be one of the hardest conversations of your life. You weren’t sure where to even start. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you spoke, “I leave for Denmark again in 10 days.” You felt Jeno’s body tense up under your touch. He didn’t respond he just leaned his head into your shoulder and placed a gently kiss on it. You could feel your eyes beginning to fill with tears as you moved your arms up to cradle his head, stroking his hair. “I don’t want to go.” You cried, tears cascading down your cheeks. “I don’t want this to end.” Jeno held you tightly. He didn’t know what to say. His heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest and stamped on repeatedly. “Don’t go, please.” He managed to squeeze out, trying not to cry too. “I have to Jen. I have school and my parents.” Jeno couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he gripped into you harder, as if holding you tighter might prevent you from leaving. “You can’t leave me here.” He choked out, sobbing now. “I’m sorry Jen. I love you so much.” You pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, wiping away the tears with your thumb.

Jeno slept round again that night, holding you tighter and closer than he ever had. Making sure to take in everything about you. The way your skin felt on his fingers, the way you smelt and the way every time you touched him it felt like an electric pulse shot through his body. “I can’t be alone here.” He let out randomly in the middle of the night. “I don’t know what I’ll do.” It was the early hours of the morning at this point and neither of you had slept. Jeno shot up from the bed, his hands covering his face as he sat on the side. You sat up too and placed your head his back. The panic of not having you here was starting to set in with him and he wasn’t coping very well. “I can’t.” He choked before letting out a sob. You weren’t sure if anything you were going to say would help him. You’d racked your brains for ways your mother might let you stay in France but you kept coming up empty. She was be furious with you if you were just going to throw away your education and future for a boy you’d met on vacation. It didn’t feel like that to you though. Your relationship with Jeno was different, you felt so connected to him in a way that was so hard to explain. “I know,” was all you could say as you rubbed his back, trying to comfort him.

Over the following days you and Jeno had been stuck together like glue. He hadn’t left your side and you hadn’t left his. Your grandparents had noticed that you were so desperately trying to hang on to each other, with it coming to the end of your stay. Jeno was in the lake with your brothers one afternoon, it was probably the first time he hadn’t been right next to you since your conversation. You’d decided to stay on the lakeside and paint. Your grandfather had joined you after a while. “How are you coping?” He said as he stood next to you awkwardly, probably not knowing what to say to you. His granddaughters love life wasn’t exactly his area of expertise. “I think we’re just pretending it’s not happening.” You sighed and continued to add paint to your canvas. “You know, you can always come here whenever you’d like. It doesn’t just have to be for the summer.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know Farfar, but you know my mother. We have to help at home.” You looked up and him and he pulled you in for a side hug.

On the evening before you left, it was tradition for you to play board games with your grandparents. Jeno had stayed for this occasion of course and you’d both played happily alongside your family. Jeno had helped you pack your bags and had sneakily placed a few of his t-shirts in your bag, knowing how much you liked to wear them. He seemed okay, you thought, but it didn’t stop you from worrying about him. You didn’t feel okay at all. You wanted to cry when you noticed that he’d put some of his shirts in your bag but you didn’t say anything, worried that it would set him off again. Jeno held your hand throughout the whole of your games night, bringing it up to his mouth every so often to place a soft kiss on it. Your grandparents and brothers felt sad for you both and looked at you with sorry eyes every time Jeno did it. They could see how much love you had for each other and it broke their hearts that you’d be split apart in the morning.

There wasn’t enough room in your grandfathers car for Jeno to come on the ride to the airport. You realised as you piled your bags into the car that the time had finally come and you’d have to say goodbye to Jeno. You grasped his hands so tightly after you’d packed your last items in your room. Tears flowed immediately as he pulled you in for a hug. You sobbed into his chest and he placed small kisses on your neck. You could feel his tears hitting your skin as you held each other tightly. “I love you so much. So fucking much, it’s killing me.” He kissed up your neck, moving his hands to cradle your head as you stroked his back. “I love you.” He said again. “I love you.” You said back, softly, and he sank into you even further, letting out a sob.

You watched Jeno’s sad eyes as your grandfather pulled away from the house. Kaspar wrapped an arm around your shoulder and placed a kiss on your temple as you cried. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You felt as if your heart had been ripped out and stamped on, placed through a shredder and thrown in the trash. On the way through the village you asked your grandparents to stop off at Jeno’s house. You wanted to give him his gift when he wasn’t there. You didn’t think either of your hearts could have taken the final break of you giving him a goodbye gift. You placed the painting of the lake on his doorstep with a note attached. It was the painting you’d been working on when Jeno had approached you at the lake at the beginning of the summer.

END.

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