#“carve your name into my arm instead of stressed i lie here charmed” is big mohg energy

[loxosceleslolo]

anyway here's the Mohg/Miquella toxic yaoi theme song

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Eight)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

Placebo - Every You Every Me

Sucker love is heaven sent

You pucker up, our passion's spent

My heart's a tart, your body's rent

My body's broken, yours is bent

Carve your name into my arm

Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed

'Cause there's nothing else to do

Every me and every you

Simon was pretty knackered when he got off the train. The last few weeks since his leave had been over were going decently. It took some getting used to coming home after being on base all day. Technically, he didn't see her in the week although they spent all weekend together. But after opening up to each other, a level of intimacy had blossomed between them and he wanted to be closer to her. Wanted to be home on the off chance she asked him round hers or in case she needed him. Wanted to be in the privacy of his own home when she called every night so he could listen to her talk about her day. 

He loved listening to her as she talked about mundane shit, just loved listening to her full stop. And she made a point of asking him about his day too. It was a routine and they settled into it nicely. What wasn't routine, however, was what he was doing today. It had been an impulsive choice, one he'd made when he'd been bored on the train home and rethinking their phone conversation from the night before. 

“You'll have to show me your uniform one day,” she remarked slyly. 

“Why? Just so you can get me out of it?” He asked with a smirk and she snorted down the phone. 

“Isn't that half the fun?” She asked with a giggle. 

It warmed his heart and his cock all at the same time when he'd thought about it. He wasn't sure how she managed to be sexy and cute all at the same time yet she did. But as he'd been on the way home, his body aching after a day of high intensity training, he'd caught his reflection in the window. It occurred to him then, and he felt like a right daft bastard that he hadn't thought of it sooner, that he got the train home to the city centre, where Charlotte worked, and got off just before she usually finished work. She finished at 6 and he got off the train at 5.45, meaning he had enough time to leisurely stroll to Cafe Metro. 

He really had no clue why it hadn't occurred to him sooner but the prospect of surprising her made him grin to himself. Especially when he was in his camo pants and forest green T-shirt. The hoodie wasn't military issued of course but it was cold. When he got there, he didn't go inside like he would if he turned up on a day off. He wanted to really surprise her so he sat on the big block of concrete outside that had an old rickety lamppost stuck inside. It was starting to get dark and he glanced at his watch, seeing he had a few minutes to spare and he wondered how she'd react to seeing him with no warning. 

The door to the cafe opened and he looked up, seeing her walk out. She looked tired, her hand stifling her mouth as a giant yawn got ripped from her. She glanced at him before going a double take, shock colouring her face for less than a second before it was overtaken by a bright beautiful smile.

“Simon!” She rushed over before he could even stand, throwing herself at him with her arms around his neck. Fuckin' hell, when was the last time someone was so happy to see him? His chest felt all warm and fuzzy as he held her back tightly and enjoyed the closeness. 

“Hello, love,” he murmured affectionately and she moved to stand, her smile still radiant. 

“To what do I owe this absolute pleasure?” She asked impishly, her eyes roaming his uniform exaggeratedly and he felt a phantom blush kiss his cheeks. 

“I missed you,” he admitted because really, that's what it boiled down to, wasn't it? The thought had occurred to him to come and see her after work because he fucking missed her. His words made her feel some kind of way because she blushed deeply, her smile turning more shy in the way it did when he complimented her. 

“I missed you too,” she smiled, reaching for his hand before she brought it to her face and nuzzled it. It was something she did often and the little affectionate touch made his heart skip a beat every damn time. 

“I was wonderin’... if you wanted me to stay the night,” he started, feeling a little unsure of himself since this wasn't the usual for them. “I know you’ve got work in the mornin’ but I could get up with you. Got a day's leave ‘cause Tommy wants help with some shit,” he explained. 

They'd never spent the night when either of them had work the next day and if she said no because she wanted time to herself then he'd be fine with it. Disappointed, but fine. He just needed to see her and he found that need getting more and more as the days wore on. Seeing her only at weekends just didn't feel enough. 

“I'd like that,” she grinned, looking excited about it and it made him relax instantly. He stood up, wrapping his arm around her shoulder before they set off for the bus stop. 

“Thought we could get takeaway for tea, my treat. What you feelin' like?” He asked her as they walked. He felt like it was the least he could do after inconveniencing her with his presence. She hummed in thought softly, leaning into him more.

“Chippy?” She asked hopefully and he snorted at her. She was easy to please this one. Spend a couple of quid on her for a portion of chips and she'd be golden. She was perfect. 

“Alright, there's a chippy near the bus stop,” he mused, he remembered seeing it a few times. They stopped off at the chippy, Charlotte wanting a portion of chips with salt and vinegar and he got chips, pudding and gravy. He asked about her day and she asked about his as they got the bus back to her place, the pair picking at their chips at the back of the bus. It all felt so normal with her, like he'd been doing it forever. It was odd to think that almost a month ago she wasn't in his life. What had he been doing with his time without her? How had he coped feeling so unhappy? It was like he couldn't remember life without her. 

The first thing they did when they got to hers was sit on the couch and scoff their food. He was hungrier than he thought and so was she if the way she devoured her chips was anything to go by. She was curled around him, the TV on with some random mindless show neither of them were paying attention to.

“Right then, get up,” she ordered, smacking his thigh and making him look at her. 

“What?” He asked, thoroughly confused. Was she kicking him out?

“Up. I wanna admire you,” she flashed him a devilish smile and he chuckled, shaking his head before he stood up. No point in denying her, was there? 

He kicked off his boots and moved over to the front door, placing them neatly before he came back and did the same to her. She watched him with a sweet smile as he pulled her shoes off before he set them with his. He sauntered back over to where she was sitting eagerly on the couch. There was something so powerful about looming over her like this, watching those pretty wide eyes as they blinked up at him. She let out a pleased hum, scooching closer to the edge so she could run her hands up his stomach.  It was a light touch and one with his top as a barrier, yet he felt a shiver run down his spine. 

“Do you purposely wear T-shirts a size too small?” She asked with an amused smirk and he scoffed at her as he flicked her dead centre of her forehead. She yelped before laughing, giving him a mock pout. 

“Cheeky bugger,” he huffed and it only made her smile widen. “Thought you'd wanna see the uniform. Thought you'd like it,” he continued.

“I do like it, very much. I bet it smells amazing,” she sighed dreamily as she tugged on the hem of his top. 

“What, covered in sweat?” He asked with a raised incredulous brow. She gave him a smile that was all teeth before said teeth sunk into her plump lower lip. 

“Mhm. There's science behind that kind of stuff, pheromones and all that,” she shrugged, fluttering her lashes up at him. 

“All that? Is that the technical term?” He teased and she glared at him playfully. 

In a quick movement, he pulled his t-shirt over his head, momentarily revelling in the way she looked up at him like he was some sacred statue she was paying reverence to. He tossed it to her and she blinked at it for a moment, grabbing it and wasting no time in smushing her face into it and breathing deeply, no shame at all. 

She let out a long happy sigh and he figured she'd finally lost her marbles. Was bound to happen when she spent so much time with him. She looked back at him then, blue of her irises nowhere in sight as her pupils were blown wide. Stirred something in his chest and in his pants. 

“What's this for?” She asked him, her voice a little lower and silkier than usual. 

“You can have it to sleep in, since you like the smell so much,” he shrugged. 

He loved the idea of her wearing his clothes and it had become a thing with them both. He'd always leave her a top to sleep in. It wasn't an issue since he had some clothes here, something else that had become normal in the past weeks. He had clothes here and a toothbrush and she had the same at his. It just happened and he wasn't even sure when, it just made sense. They mostly spent time at hers at his request because despite his place being bigger, hers felt more cosy and homely. 

She beamed a smile at his words but she also seemed distracted. Her eyes kept drifting to the dog tags now proudly displayed on his chest and he realised then she didn't get to see him in them often. He didn't normally wear them when not working. There was a glint in her eye as she looked at them and he was struck with an idea then, a need so mighty that it suddenly had a choke hold on him. 

“Get up,” he ordered and her eyes snapped up to his face at his sudden change of demeanour. She read him instantly though as she always did, read him as easily as she read the books of hers she loved so much. She did as she was told, her face the picture of submission and he had to stop the moan that threatened to leave his lips. She played submissive to him real fucking well. 

“Clothes off,” he demanded and she didn't waste a moment as she tugged off her own uniform. He took the time to get undressed himself, moving to the bed area. His cock was already hard and throbbing, it didn't take much if he was honest when he was around her, he felt like a teenager catching glimpses of the page three models all over again. But the idea he'd had was making him ache for her and his stomach was fluttering with excited anticipation. He grabbed a condom from the drawer, opening it before rolling it onto his weeping cock. When he glanced back over his shoulder, she was just ridding herself of her knickers and he moved to lay on the bed. 

“Come here, love,” he held his hand out and she walked over to him, curiosity and excitement shining behind those pretty eyes. Her hand settled into his and she allowed him to pull her into his lap. Her soaked cunt settled over his cock and he moaned low at the feel of it. He looked up at her for a moment, his heart twitching as she gave him a little sweet smile. 

He tilted his head up, hands moving to his neck before he grabbed his dog tags and pulled them over his head. She was watching him quietly, eyes widening slightly as he leaned up to slip them around her neck. He pulled her hair out from under the chain, biting his lip as he admired her. Fuck. Seeing her in his tags like that absolutely did him in and his hands gripped her hips roughly, pulling her down against him as he rubbed his cock against her slick folds. His needy moans mixed with her gasp as she squirmed on top of him, only adding to the sensations he was feeling. 

He couldn't wait anymore, he thought he might fucking spontaneously combust at the rate he was going. He tapped her thigh impatiently and she knelt up, not needing any words to tell her what he wanted. He fisted his cock, lining it up with her before she slowly started to sink onto him. The noise he made didn't feel human as he fought the urge to just thrust right into her and watch her face contort in pleasure. He allowed her to take her time, gravity helping her in her descent. He moaned in relief as their pelvises finally met and his eyes hungrily devoured the angelic sight above him. He thought he might have died and gone to heaven. They hadn't fucked like this yet and he wasn't sure why, too far gone right now to really think about it. 

Her hips rolled experimentally and they both moaned, his fingers biting into the flesh of her hips as he arched up at her. He gave her a moment to set her own pace, to adjust to him, but it didn't last long. The desperation he was feeling was like nothing else he'd felt before and he was powerless against his own whims as he started fucking up into her. She mewled, hands leaning on his chest for leverage as his own moved to her arse for a better grip. It allowed him to lift her up and push her back down on his cock and he delighted in the feelings it brought him, delighted in how blissful her face was with her lips parted in a silent moan. She was an absolute vision as she got bounced about, his dog tags clinking together as he manhandled her and tried to rush them both to euphoria. They jostled between those perky, perfect tits he loved so much and he felt like he was hypnotised. 

He wanted to say something sexy or tell her to cum or fucking something, but his brain had left him. The blinding pleasure he was feeling rendered him mute except for the sinful noises passing his lips. She didn't seem to be faring much better though and he felt a stab of manly pride at how she was babbling incoherently through her breathless pants and moans. He needed her to cum and cum quick because he knew he wouldn't last much longer. 

He gripped her tight before rolling them over and she let out a noise that was a mix of a yelp and a moan before blinking up at him in shock. He hovered over her now, dick still firmly in place before he kneeled up a little. He grabbed one of her legs at the back of her knee, bending it and pressing it up against her chest. He started rutting into her harshly with a deep moan, the angle felt fucking divine and he was sure he saw stars. 

“Don't stop, please don't stop,” she begged helplessly and something about the desperate pitch of her voice almost sent him over the edge. Her nails were biting into the back of his shoulders and it was a good kind of pain. He tried to focus on it to stop himself from shooting his load before she came, keeping his rapid pace steady since she asked so sweetly. 

He felt her clamp down around him as she came hard and he was almost certain she was about to push him fucking out of her. He gasped, eyes almost rolling back as her cunt milked his cock for every drop he was worth. 

“Fuckin'-” he words trailed off into a deep and guttural moan, his hips still pumping in and out of her a few more times to prolong the feeling. 

He was breathless, panting and sweating over her as he enjoyed the blissed out feeling coursing through his veins. He leaned down to kiss her languidly, humming into the kiss as her fingers caressed his scalp. When he broke away, he looked down at her and felt something hot and seering through his chest. Her cheeks were pretty and flushed, her eyes sleepy as she blinked up at him slowly. It never ceased to amaze him just how beautiful she was and he'd never understand why she was interested in him. 

He smiled at her, getting one in return before he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. Her smile widened and the heat in his chest went up a few more notches. He grunted as he pulled out, eyes lazily taking her in with his dog tags still on. That was something he wouldn't be forgetting any time soon. He discarded the condom before collapsing in bed next to her, holding his arm open for her. 

Just as she always did, she moved over with no hesitation, laying her head on his chest and she curled around him like a snake. He hated sleeping alone now he'd had a taste of the comfort she brought him. He was still yet to have a nightmare since she'd walked into his life and he could hardly believe it. She was his remedy to the life he'd been dealt. She was his gift. 

“What time do you have to get up in the mornin’?” He asked her tiredly. He threaded his fingers through her long wavy hair and she hummed softly, pressing her head into his hand. 

“Six,” she murmured, snuggling even closer to him if that was even possible. He knew he’d be awake by then already so he didn't need to worry. 

“Night, sweet girl,” he placed a kiss to the top of her head and he felt her smile against his chest. 

“Goodnight, Simon,” she replied warmly through a yawn. 

“Come on, it's only there. I’ve been before and it's nice,” Tommy huffed and Simon shifted on his feet, the uncomfortable feeling growing as he glanced at the glass doors of Cafe Metro. His morning had been good and as predicted, he'd woken up at five. He could have woken her up for some fun before work but she'd looked so peaceful that he couldn't bring himself to ruin her sleep, so he'd just held her and admired her while he had a chance. 

She'd been happy to wake up with him and he'd behaved himself so she could get up and get herself ready to work. He'd been prepared to get up with her but she'd told him to stay in bed, told him to just take the spare key when he was ready and he could give it back when he next saw her. And so he'd watched her go to work with a kiss and then lounged about for a bit in her bed, soaking up her scent. It was when he'd gotten bored that he'd forced himself out of bed and went back to his place to get ready for the day. 

Tommy had been asking him to come to town for a few weeks now to do some baby shopping and he just hadn't really had the time. Maybe it was selfish of him but he'd been reluctant to share his weekend with him because that was his time with Charlotte. He still had some paid leave so he just decided to take a day, feeling guilty that his brother clearly just wanted to spend time with him with something so special. 

It wasn't like Simon was required to come with him to get some tiny fucking clothes and some other bits and pieces, but he knew Tommy just wanted the support of his big brother, that he was excited about becoming a dad. And Simon liked to think he was a good big brother, he'd always tried to be. Right now though, his baby brother was severely testing his patience as he just had to pick the place where Charlotte worked as the spot he wanted to get lunch. Simon's cortisol levels flew through the roof at Tommy's suggestion and it suddenly felt like a hole had opened up under him. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to see her, of course he did, even if he only saw her that morning. But not with Tommy, not yet. He hadn’t told anyone about her yet and he wasn't sure how she’d feel about that. Would she think he was ashamed of her or something? Would she be upset? She'd been so ready to kiss him in public since he first turned up at her work and the idea of hurting her feelings had his blood pressure rising.

“Don’t feel like it. Lets go Maccies instead,” Simon frowned, his tone surly and Tommy glared at him.

“Is this about the girl you've been seeing?” he asked knowingly and Simon’s eyes almost fell out of his head as he gaped at him. What in the ever loving fuck…? 

“What girl?” he bit out defensively. Tommy smirked, raising a brow at him that told him to cut the bullshit.

“You know what girl. You've been glued to your phone for weeks with that dopey smile on your face. I know that look, I had it myself,” Tommy replied with a snort and Simon hated that he felt heat creep up high on his cheeks. Well, he’d been well and truly caught now, hadn't he? “Look, I’ve been nice enough not to say anything up until now ‘cause I know this is new for you, but let's just go in so I can meet her!” Tommy whined and Simon frowned with a shake of his head.

“No, I just… it’s too soon. I… I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Don’t think she’s ready either,” he murmured, awkwardness taking hold of him for talking about this so openly. Tommy’s face softened then and he clapped him on the arm.

“Fine, fine. I won't push it. We can go Maccies if you want instead but I do want to meet her soon. How long have you been seeing her, anyway?” he asked curiously and while the questions made him bristle, knowing it was time to spill the beans, he was grateful when they both started walking away from the Cafe and down the high street instead, making their way to the food court.

“About a month,” he admitted and Tommy’s eyes widened, a chuckle leaving him as he elbowed him.

“You dirty dog! And you didn't tell your little brother!” he gasped, acting like it was a fucking scandal. Simon smiled despite himself, rolling his eyes at his brother's theatrics. 

“Didn't tell you ‘cause I knew you’d act like a right twat about it. Turns out I was right,” he muttered teasingly and Tommy shoved him with a laugh. He felt a little lighter admitting it to Tommy though. Felt right that he knew. 

“I’m happy for you, Si. You deserve this,” Tommy said seriously after a moment. Simon felt his throat tighten at the sincerity of his baby brother's tone and he shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“Thanks,” he replied quietly, not knowing what else to say. He wasn't sure what he deserved, wasn’t sure if he was a good man or not with some of the things he had to do for his job. He tried to be a good man though and he always would for Charlotte. He wanted to be worthy of her affections, wanted to be worthy of her time.

Once they got to Mcdonalds, they ordered their food before sitting down in a corner out of the way of everyone else. He knew the questions were coming before Tommy opened his big mouth because the arsehole couldn't sit still as he kept stealing glances at him.

“So… what's she like then?” he asked excitedly with a mouthful of burger. Simon rolled his eyes at his brother's lack of manners, trying to ignore the heat nipping at his face again. 

“She’s called Charlotte. Had a bit of a hard life and I met her when she was down on her luck. We just clicked, I dunno what to say. She’s just… I’ve never met anyone like her. She just makes it all better, makes everythin’ worth it,” he admitted with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant about it.

“You love her,” Tommy stated softly, not asking but more of a statement. 

“Not sure about that,” Simon muttered embarrassedly, shifting in his seat.

“You've not told her yet then?” Tommy asked with a smirk and Simon heaved a long suffering sigh.

“Course I haven't. Don’t want her runnin’ for the fuckin’ hills, do I? Can barely make sense of all my feelin’s as it is,” he frowned and Tommy gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Should just tell her. I’d bet my left leg she feels the same way. Next time you get the urge, just go with it,” Tommy advised and Simon nodded even though he had no intention of following through with the advice. 

The idea of telling her how he felt made him feel more fear than when he was embarking on a dangerous mission with the army. He might as well rip his beating heart right out of his chest and hand it to her, hope she didn’t stuff it in a fucking blender. That was what he was doing by telling her, opening himself up to be the most vulnerable he’d ever been. The small part of him that thought she might say it back was screaming at him to tell her. If she said those words back he thought he might combust with happiness, the likes of which he couldn't even comprehend. But it was a small chance. The bigger chance would be her getting spooked, her pulling away. Him being alone again. And like fuck he was going to let that happen. So he’d stuff his feelings down inside of him and keep at it like normal. No need to rock the boat, no need to fucking capsize the thing and drown himself. 

[bathroomcorpse]

do you have any lyrics that remind you of auggielias :3c

GREAT QUESTION first of all here's the constantly being edited chronological auggielias playlist

and while you're listening to that you can read through this long message that is a lyric from every single song on the playlist that i think is The Most auggielias coded.

Paralyzer - Finger Eleven (anyone else remember the free songs you could add to Youtube uploads in the 00s? this was one of them)

"If your body matches what your eyes can do / You'll probably move right through me on my way to you"

Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches and Walkers - Fall Out Boy

"Keep you locked up in the trunk of my mind"

Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge (obviously)

"And you leave to have a cigarette, your knees get weak / An escape is just a nod and a casual wave / Obsessed about it, heavy for the next two days" and, obviously "I want to fucking tear you apart"

Wow, I Can Get Sexual Too - Say Anything

"You're too young to be this empty, girl / I'll prepare you for a sick, dark world / Know that you will be my downfall / But I call and I call and I call"

Driving Down to LA - Ezra Furman

Literally the entire song jesus christ BUT "I would give up my whole life for that feelin' / No, I don't mind / If I lose my legs or die" and "Don't tell my mom, don't tell my brother / I've been driving down the freeway with my master"

First Love / Late Spring - Mitski

"One word from you and I would / Jump off of this / Ledge I'm on / Baby" also i always see elias' bedroom in my minds eye while i listen to this song i can't translate that Feeling but its there

Every You Every Me - Placebo

very much another Just The Whole Song but "Carve your name into my arm / Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed / 'Cause there's nothing else to do / Every me and every you" especially

Bitter Wolves - Flowers

this is a song by a small local artist so there are actually no lyrics online and i don't trust my auditory processing to transcribe music accurately esp because there are some effects on the vocals so stream Bitter Wolves by Flowers!!!!!

Flesh - Seahaven

"I don't ever think what I want could be considered love / But it is what I want anyway / Beauty in the dark, fragile heart, see the end from the start / I don't ever think what you need could be considered me / Still you drop everything anyway"

West Country Dream - The Mountain Goats

STREAM FULL FORCE GALESBURG!! anyway. this is a short song and a Vibe song so lyrics do not cut it you must Listen to Understand. that being said "Blood coursing through the air tonight / I know who I am / And I know who you are / Or who you were just an hour ago"

Who Can Deny How Delicious It Tastes - The Paper Chase

"At least you know what I'd give (now) for just one taste / A little taste of it / We'll never speak of my father again / We'll never speak of these plans"

See America Right - The Mountain Goats

all of it. Alcoholism <3. "Your love is like a cyclone in a swamp and the weather's getting warmer" and "But my love is like a dark cloud full of rain, always right there up above you"

The Sharpest Lives - My Chemical Romance

"Well it rains and it pours when you're out on your own / If I crash on the couch, can I sleep in my clothes" and "You're the one that I need / I'm the one that you loathe / You can watch me corrode"

Going to Georgia - The Mountain Goats (how much tmg can worm put on a playlist? you would be surprised.)

"I have two big hands / And a heart pumping blood / And a 1967 Colt .45 / With a busted safety catch" this is more just elias. its a vibe song. also they're from georgia and if tmg has a going to or a place song for the place a story of mine is set it legally must be on that playlist.

Tigerlily - La Roux (this is like the worm seal of Unhealthy Relationship Approval)

"I know you better than this / I could be here when you call / I'll make you top of the list" and "And put your face in the gutter of a snake pit / But our communication is telepathy"

You Oughta Know - Alanis Morissette

WOULD SHE GO DOWN ON YOU IN A THEATER?! AND WOULD SHE HAVE YOUR BABY?! AND ARE YOU THINKING OF ME WHEN YOU FUCK HER?!?!?!?

Tymps (The Sick in the Head Song) - Fiona Apple

"I'm either so sick in the head, I need to be bled dry to quit / Or I just really used to love him, I sure hope that's it"

Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys

"Have you no idea that you're in deep? / I dreamt about you nearly every night this week / How many secrets can you keep?" and "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new"

Said the Spider to the Fly - The Paper Chase

"I want your head / I want your wicked parts / I want to wring out your evil thoughts / I want to eat out your bitter heart" ""Kiss me like you mean goodbye, " said the spider to the fly" "I feel the end is near, my little Monday night whore / My little Saturday night became a Sunday remorse" "I know I'll never lose an arm, I'll never stay up staring at the phone / I'll never rot up with disease, don't you bury me and leave" AM I GETTING THE POINT ACROSS IDK. im unfortunatly abnormal abt the paper chase so.

505 - Arctic Monkeys

"I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck / Or I did last time I checked" "The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark / Frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark"

Demolition Lovers - My Chemical Romance (the first of two joint suicide songs <3)

"I'd end my days with you, in a hail of bullets" "I'm trying, I'm trying / To let you know just how much you mean to me / And after all the things we put each other through and / I would drive on, to the end with you" "I'll see your eyes, and in this pool of blood / I'll meet your eyes, I mean this forever"

We Both Go Down Together - The Decemberists (the OTHER joint suicide song <33)

"You come from parents wanton / A childhood rough & rotten / I come from wealth & beauty / Untouched by work or duty" "Oh, my love, my love / We both go down together"

ANYWAY IF YOU ACTUALLY READ ALL THIS MWAH ENJOY THE PLAYLIST ALSO I WILL ABSOLUTELY ADD TO IT AND CHANGE ORDER AND SUCH AT SOME POINTS <3

[jugandbettsdetectiveagency]

My Body’s Broken, Yours Is Bent

So, @jandjsalmon I know it’s not quite your birthday yet, but since you’re so incredible I think you deserve an early present and I had this finished. I hope you enjoy a lil dark!jug, and dark!betty to go along with him. I’m blushing.

Warning: we got some sin going on in this fic, it gets smutty, because what would a dark au be without it?

Read on AO3

Carve your name into my arm Instead of stressed I lie here charmed Cause there's nothing else to do Every me and every you

– Every Me and Every You, Placebo

                                                               ~

Watching her through the window was a favourite pastime of his, and not just since moving into Archie’s room full time. Whenever Jughead had been hanging out with his best friend his eyes would drift to the glass pane, hoping to catch a glimpse of the blonde girl who’d captured his attention for as long as he could recall.

Sometimes there was nothing. Other times he was rewarded with the view of Betty Cooper, walls down, armour removed. His fingers itched with the desire to run through her loose golden waves, only free from the tight restraint of their hair tie once she was alone and without responsibility. On occasion he’d thank whatever force controlled the universe for a flash of the curve of her ass beneath her skirt, a glimpse at the side of her breast as she pulled her sweater over her head and unclasped her bra before wandering away. Always just out of view, and entirely out of reach.

He didn’t think Archie noticed his little viewing parities – if he did he hadn’t said anything – but Jughead wouldn’t care if he had. He felt as if his need for Betty Cooper was tangible, rolling off his skin in crashing waves, pulling him under the current and crushing his chest with the weight. He was sure that his breathlessness filled the air, that the pounding of his heart rang just as loudly in his friend’s ears as it did his own.

It was a Thursday when their timelines merged seamlessly again to allow him front row seats to his favourite show. The purple bruises around Jughead’s wrists were still blooming despite his father having been crashed out on their couch for hours now. Fred let Jughead in early, silently noticing the way he clutched at the sleeves of his shirt to keep him in place, telling him Archie would be back from hanging out with his football buddies soon enough. Archie’s room was practically Jughead’s room anyway, his view was Jughead’s view. Only, Jughead was far more interested in what it had to offer. He needed the sweet morphine drip that watching her could give him.

Betty was there, waiting for him behind her raised curtain, audience: party of one. Only she wasn’t alone this time. Betty sat on her floral bedspread, long legs curled underneath her as she grasped at Polly’s hand in desperation. If Jughead squinted his could see the way her lamplight cause the moisture in her eyes to glisten verdantly, see the way her lower lip trembled, teeth catching the raw flesh in an attempt to still its quivering. Jughead’s tongue came out to wet his own lips, wishing he could run it along hers instead.

Polly sat next to her sister, hands gesturing wildly as she explained something to Betty with an excited fervour, eventually settling over her abdomen with maternal affection. Betty shook her head, ponytail whipping her dampened cheeks harshly as it swung with the movements.

His gut clenched with the need to fix it.

***

Jughead remembered the first time he saw that ponytail, golden tendrils perfectly slicked back and curled as the little four year old girl skipped across into Archie’s front yard.

“Who’s this, Archie?” she’d asked, bold and inquisitive as only children could be. The small boy with the knitted beanie too big for his head looked up shyly, blinking in wake of the brightness she radiated. He didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so clean before. She looked as if been primped and preened like a prize pony, ready for her next showcase.

“This is my friend Jughead,” the redheaded boy informed her with a grin, passing one of his toy cars off to the quiet boy. Jughead took the miniature Chevy, turning it over in his hands while he avoided her scrutinising gaze. He was old enough to realise that people who looked like this girl usually belonged to parents who crossed the street when him and his dad walked by. He didn’t know why yet, he just knew it was a regular occurrence. The next words out of her mouth sent the truck tumbling to the dirt.

“Can he be my friend, too?” Her emerald eyes shone with hope, and Jughead could feel their warmth taking root and sprouting in his chest. Archie shrugged, not noticing the small epiphany happening to his friend beside him.

“I don’t know, ask him,” Archie told her as he ran inside to answer his mother’s sudden call.

Jughead watched with bated breath as the little girl crept closer, her smile mirroring that of someone trying to approach a flighty animal. She crouched down, her small knees sinking into the mud.

“I’m Betty Cooper. Do you want to be my friend?” she asked, holding out a hand for him to shake. She’d seen her daddy do this whenever people came over to visit her parents, assuming that it was the right thing to do in the situation. Jughead eyed the outstretched limb warily, but she held her ground, not one to back down.

Jughead slipped his grubby fingers into hers, shaking it limply. When they parted he saw his dirty fingerprints on her unblemished skin.

“Yes please,” he murmured, faltering as a blinding grin spread across her face.

“Good! Do you know where the pink car is? It’s my favourite. When I grow up I want to be just like Lady Penelope.” Jughead grinned back as he passed her the toy, listening intently to the rules of the game she was insisting they play, barely noticing when Archie returned to join the fun.

Their game of Thunderbirds was uneventful until Betty’s shriek rang out across the yard. Jughead darted from his hiding spot to see her sprawled in the grass, clutching her knee, cheeks shining with trails of forlorn tears.

“Mommy!” Archie yelled with panicked eyes, sprinting inside the house to fetch her. Jughead froze, eyes wide as he watched the golden angel crumple into the dirt. He crawled across the yard towards her, stopping with his face inches from the wound. Betty watched him cautiously, lower lip jutted out and trembling with each shuddering sob she tried to suppress but let out anyway.

Jughead wasn’t sure why she was crying so much; he was never allowed to cry when he was hurt. Cuts and bruises were just a sign that his dad still loved him, still cared enough to get angry. That’s what he said, later at night when his voice got all slurry and his eyes all watery, tucking Jughead beneath his arm and mumbling with hot breath into the top of his head, until his breathing evened out and his arm around Jughead’s neck became too heavy.

He watched as Betty continued to snivel. The scrape was covered in the flecks of mud and the lime hue of a grass stain, but that strongly resembled the fading bruise on Jughead’s ribs. A drop of deep crimson welled slowly, budding into a bead that soon became too heavy and ran down the ivory slope of her shin. Jughead leant forwards, pressing his lips gently to the cut like he’d seen other moms do at the playground. When he pulled back his lips were smeared with her blood. Betty watched with unbridled curiosity, her eyes focusing on the red smudge.

“It’s all better now,” he stated, voice firm. She nodded in reply, as if him saying so made it true.

“Thank you, Juggie,” she mumbled, swiping a fist beneath her damp eyes. Jughead licked his lips just as Mary Andrews came running out of the house with the first aid kit in hand, tasting a metallic tang on his tongue.

Jughead Jones would always be there to lick Betty Cooper’s wounds.

As they grew up, every time she fell, every time her parent’s expectations became too much, he was there to tell her it was all better. And she always believed him. It was as if the taste of her blood slipping into his system that day cemented something within him, an ownership that refused to be renounced.

 ***

Archie. It was supposed to be Archie.

“Betty and Archie are endgame.”

“Tell Archie how you feel about him!”

“I think Archie likes you back. Didn’t you see the way he was smiling at you in biology?”

“Do you think Archie will ask you to the dance?”

The people of Riverdale had spoken, repeatedly, and Betty Cooper was to one day become Betty Andrews, move across the road into the white, suburban house identical to the cage in which she been raised – that she grew too big for – and pop out two point five redheaded little darlings probably named Wendy, John and Michael.

Time stood still in the cul-de-sacs of Riverdale and it smothered her.

How did she feel about Archie? she wondered idly as she watched him during football practise from her spot at the foot of the bleachers. She loved him, he was her best friend. He made her laugh and roll her eyes and said inappropriate things at the most appropriate times. He was loyal and cute and beginning to sound a bit like a Labrador, even in her own thoughts. But he was apparently her only option.

Betty crossed one ankle over the other, head tilted contemplatively as she twirled her ponytail around a finger, lip rolling between her teeth in thought. She watched the way his biceps bulged as he caught the ball. She observed how the muscles in his thighs bunched as he ran with sure-fire determinism across the field. She focused on the river of sweat that darkened his fiery red locks and ran in tantalising droplets down his temples, over his cheekbones after he pulled off his helmet to take a drink, Adam’s apple bobbing slowly. She imagined the salty trace they would leave on her tongue if she licked them away, following the divots of his skin until she could curl the muscle around the ridges of his ear to tell him how much she wanted this.

Betty sighed as she squeezed her thighs together, underwear beneath her cheerleading bloomers dry.

She loved Archie. She even loved the idea of him, them, together. But her body was telling her otherwise. He did not ignite that small patch of kindling she’d been building away from prying eyes, away from her mother, gathering fuel quietly and carefully until all of a sudden it had been doused in lighter fluid and had a match flung into its berth.

No. Instead of the comforting depths of liquid chocolate waiting for her in Archie’s warm gaze, Betty found herself plunging into the ice-laden waters of the bright blue stare she caught watching her from the shadows of Archie’s bedroom – Archie’s shared bedroom.

It was like that feeling when you just know someone is watching you. Betty never dared look directly, never gave the satisfaction. Just the knowledge that Jughead was out there, silently focused on her every move, sent shivers down her spine as she took off her sweater, arching her back just so, never quite giving the full view away. She bit her lip as she moved out of view – she knew it was wrong but it gave her such a power trip, to feel that in control of someone else when half the time she was barely in control of herself. But also it was a performance, and for the first time it was one she enjoyed giving. Without even communicating it’s like she knew what he wanted from her, what she was willing to give.

In public, Jughead was so sweet. His biting humour and sardonic comments were undercut with those wide eyed looks her gave her when no one else noticed she was hurting, running his thumb over her clenched fist beneath the table at Pop’s with a questioning brow raised. She’d offer him her best reassuring smile and he’d slip his strawberry onto the rim of her vanilla shake. He’d know she was stressed when loose tendrils of hair fell from her usually slick ponytail and tuck the strands behind her ear, fingers lingering for a beat on the soft apple of her cheek.

And yet…

“Hey, B Coops!” Betty winced as Chuck’s voice hollered at her from the end of the hallway. She took a deep breath behind her locker door before plastering a Cooper-watt smile across her face and turning to greet him.

“Hi, Chuck,” she replied pleasantly. He leant his shoulder against the metal next to her, effective blocking her path. He crossed one leg over the other, confident smirk gracing his features. Objectively, she knew how attractive and desirable the football player was – unfortunately, so did he. Betty tried to resist the snort that threatened to leave her as his eyes trailed over her cheer uniform.

“So, it’s Friday,” he began, as if she wasn’t already aware. She nodded, pressing her lips together. “Some might say that’s date night, and since I don’t have a date and you don’t have a date, how about we do each other a favour?” He took a step closer, crowding Betty against her locker.

“How do you know I don’t have a date?” she said defiantly, eyes glancing around the empty corridor for an out. He was definitely getting a little too close for comfort.

“Yeah, and who would that be with?” Chuck retorted unkindly and Betty bristled, nails poised to break the plush skin of her palms. She couldn’t fathom how this was supposed to make her want to go out with him; she’d heard of ‘negging’ but couldn’t believe that any guy thought it would actually work. “Jughead, over here?” he sneered. “Even you wouldn’t stoop that low.”

Betty’s eyes snapped in the direction he indicated. Jughead had appeared a few feet away from them, not even his footsteps announcing his presence. The look in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat, sparks tingling beneath her skin. He looked murderous as his stare raked over the scene before him, zeroing in on the way Chuck’s hands were creeping towards Betty’s hips. Betty swallowed visibly, unable to tear her eyes away from the glint in his.

“Why not with Jughead?” she managed to squeak out. She saw the surprise register in the dark haired boy’s face at her question, barely cracking the furious mask currently in place. The corner of her lips tilted up almost imperceptibly as she felt that ever increasing desire to have control creeping back in, fingers uncurling slowly.

Chuck jolted back slightly, looking between the two of them incredulously. “Seriously?” he scoffed. “Wow, guess you’re just as desperate as your sister,” he muttered, shaking his head. Betty saw red.

“What the hell did you say?” she seethed, straightening. She saw Jughead take a tiny step closer but didn’t turn to acknowledge him. Chuck didn’t reply. “Get out of here, Chuck. Before I kill you.” Jughead stood, unmoving, behind her shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re freaks, both of you,” Chuck breathed, backing down the corridor, not taking his eyes off the pair until he’d rounded the corner.

The tight grip of Jughead’s hand around her wrist was like a bucket of ice water. Betty gasped, turning to him with ashamed tears blurring her vision. Jughead’s wide blown pupils knocked all the wind from her as he looked down at her with barely concealed desire. She squeezed her thighs together.

“Stay away from him, Betty. He could hurt you,” Jughead warned, voice impossibly low. He was caught somewhere between the Jughead she’d grown up with, the one that was impossibly quiet yet caring, and a new Jughead who was only just making himself known to her, one she couldn’t help but gravitate towards. The pressure of his hold on her increased but she didn’t cry out.

“You’d always make it better, Juggie,” she breathed. “You always make it better.”

The sound of footsteps rounding the corner tore them apart, Jughead letting her arm go. By the time Betty turned back to look at him he was disappearing through the doors. She glanced down at her wrist, still throbbing as the blood flooded back into her veins, the imprints of his fingers circling the skin and she never wanted them to fade.

She knew he was watching now, as she changed into her sleep shorts, giving him just enough but not all. Something had awoken in her though, and there was a hunger deep in her stomach for what more she could have.

Betty tiptoed over to her window and caught his eye. She waited to see if he’d disappear, scrambling from view at being caught, but he didn’t. Jughead just met her eyes with equal steadiness. She made a show of barely pulling her curtains closed, lifting the window just an inch or two – an invitation.

She climbed under the covers, anticipation spiralling through her body.

***

Jughead climbed lithely up the ladder with what seemed like practiced ease. It was as if his body had been fine tuned for this exact moment, to be able to reach the slumbering princess in her tower without incurring the wrath of the smouldering dragon.

One of the weathered rungs bowed slightly beneath his weight and Jughead’s breath caught, knowing he was so close to his desired target. If the old wood snapped now he knew it would be a sign from the universe, trying to keep him away from the alabaster angel just beyond the glass pane. Because he wasn’t the white knight coming to her rescue. He was tainted and twisted, cold and cavalier, and everything but her saviour. He was the miscreant, the villain - no one wanted him to succeed in his ignoble quest.

The wood creaked then settled, and he always knew the universe was a sick son of a bitch. Jughead finally allowed his lungs to deflate as he took a few more steps upwards and came face to face with the view he’d only ever seen from afar through the open curtains. He could make out the time on her clock, the patch of worn away fur on Caramel’s head, count the number of highlighters scattered over her desk. And then there was her.

Betty’s face was turned away from the window, flaxen hair strewn in tangled waves across her floral pillow. The sheets were pulled up just above her breasts despite the heat of the night, clinging to her curves with sweat as she shifted atop the mattress. The covers tented as her knees rose up, head rolling towards him, eyes scrunched closed and teeth torturing her lower lip. Jughead paused, his fingers curling round the wood of the partially open window as a shuddery gasp escaped her in the form of his name.

“Juggie.”

The whimper set his blood simmering beneath the surface in only the way his blinding anger had done before, his body stilling while his dick twitched. He could tell, from the roll of her shoulder, the hint of a flush at the base of her throat, the rustle of cotton on cotton as she squirmed, that her hand had wandered beneath the elastic of her panties, exploring the wetness she found there with thoughts of him playing behind her eyelids.

Jughead wondered how many times she’d done this before. How many times had she slipped her fingers inside of herself, biting back moans and risking being caught despite the darkness of the night? Everything was so still in the Cooper household - he wondered if Alice was a light sleeper. His dad was, lured by the gripping talons of too many mixed liquors into a fitful but deep sleep. Alice, too, seemed like just the high strung type to mix her Valium with her vino before bed.

Betty’s moans were getting more frequent, higher in pitch, as she brought herself closer to the edge. The pressure was building between Jughead’s legs as he watched - always, always from a distance - desperate to see more. Drops of sweat beaded against her temples in the pale moonlight as he lifted the window the rest of the way up and let himself inside. Betty continued on her task, hips lifting from the bed, not noticing his imposing presence through the fog of pleasure pounding in her ears. He wasn’t sure if he was reading her signals right, if this is what she had wanted. Surely, she couldn’t…

“What are you thinking about?” His voice pierced the air, thick and broken, still deep despite barely breaching a whisper. Betty’s eyes snapped open with a gasp, all movements stilling as her gaze searched for his in the darkness. Jughead expected her to scream, to curse him out for invading her privacy, for watching her touch herself with unabashed desire lacing his stare, or perhaps turn a deep shade of crimson as she retracted her hand swiftly and stammered an excuse.

What he did not expect was for Betty to hold his eyes, release a shuddery exhale, and continue.

“You,” she breathed, chin jutting out as if she dared him to be disgusted. “I was so close,” she whined, movements picking up their speed. Jughead kicked off his boots and crawled onto the bed, settling by her feet as he placed his hands on her bent knees. He fisted the fabric, tugging it down her body to reveal the sight below. He had to see.

“Slower,” he commanded, surprised when she only whimpered and did as he said. The sheet was finally bunched between them, no longer an unwelcome obstruction. He looked over her parted lips, her heaving chest barely concealed by a thin, white tank top, all the way down to her pink, cotton panties, one hand buried sinfully inside. There was a damp spot on the fabric still, and his mind was flooded with images of her working up to this moment, teasing herself over the garment until she had to feel more. He’s sure there’s a patch just like it on his own boxers now, hands tightening around the floral fabric he was still gripping as that very same desire spurs him to continue. “What about me?” he asked.

“You were holding my wrists like you did in the hall at school, too tight, telling me that I was yours,” she gasped, legs falling further apart as he prowled closer. Jughead ran his hands down the slopes of her smooth thighs, fingers and thumbs slotting against the crease on either side of her groin, framing the V-shaped apex like a prize landscape.

“You liked it.” It wasn’t a question. She nodded anyway, eyelids fluttering as she brought herself closer to her high again. If he stilled his breath he could hear the faint slick sounds of her ministrations filtering through the air. His fingers wrapped around her wrist firmly, halting her movements as he squeezed hard enough to bruise. Betty voiced her protests, bucking her hips gently, only to have him push them firmly into the springs. She shifted, finding herself rendered immobile beneath his hold, aiding the ache between her thighs.

“Jug, please,” she crooned, unable to care about how pathetic she sounded in her pleading.

“I need to see you.” He hooked his thumbs over the edge of her panties and dragged them slowly down her legs. Her fingers glistened in the light allowed in by the curtains, hovering just above where she was swollen and desperate, unwilling to disobey him. “Touch yourself, Betty. But don’t come,” he added, with a hint of a threat, when her fingers immediately lowered to circle her clit.

She understood what he wanted from her; he came for a show.

Betty let the weight of her legs pull her knees further apart, feeling the stretch in her muscles as she laid herself open for him. Her fingers slipped down, running through her slick folds while looking up at him with a hooded stare. His features were schooled into a stoic expression, but the slight flare in his nostrils gave away his struggling restraint as he let himself watch, one hand hovering subconsciously over his crotch. Betty pulled her lower lip between her teeth, arching her back to present him with the sight of her firm breasts, hardened buds of her nipples straining against her top. She allowed a shaky sigh to permeate the room as the tip of her forefinger dipped into her opening before retreating. Her hips give chase despite herself, far too wound up to hide her want.

Jughead’s fingers tickled the backs of her thighs as he gripped them securely, keeping them in place while he pushed against the tight muscles of her groin to widened them even further, the burn of the stretch eliciting a delicate whine from the back of her throat.

Betty’s hand came back up to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves, slowly just like he’d asked, although she could feel her will power beginning to slip with every brush of her fingertip.

“How close are you, Betts?” he growled, eyes fixed to where she was flushed with arousal.

“Almost there,” she managed to reply, voice already wrecked. Jughead felt himself twitch within the confines of his jeans. Her whimpers picked up in frequency, hips jerking beneath his hold.

“Stop,” he commanded. He was surprised when she complied, pulling her hand away from her core and immediately fisting it in the pink sheets below her. He was impressed, seeing how she was dripping with desire. “You can control yourself right, Betts?” he whispered, dipping down so his cool breath fanned across the heat between her thighs. He heard her unsteady inhale and bit the flesh next to his ear to hide his smirk.

“Yes,” she eventually replied, looking down at him with hooded eyes. She watched, enraptured, as he undid his jeans, groaning in relief when the pressure of his zipper against his erection released. Betty licked her lips as he ran his fist over the rigid flesh and he had to exert all of his effort to not just give in then.

Jughead gathered both of her wrists in his hands, pining them above her head, making sure to put enough pressure on the skin to leave his mark, just like she wanted. He lowered himself over the length of her body, resting his dick between her legs. He could feel her trembling with the need to buck up against him, seeking the friction she so desperately needed.

“You can move, Betty,” he whispered in her ear, her deep pants hitting his shoulder. “Just as long as you don’t come,” he reminded lightly, despite how tight the coil in his stomach was wound.

Betty rocked up against him, crying out from how sensitive she still was. She took a steadying breath and tried again, focusing all her energy on making Jughead feel good. She traced the little crease between his brows as he grunted at the feeling of her, hot and slippery, below him, working to get him towards his release. He knew he could let go now if he’d let himself, the image of his arousal laying in ribbons across the smooth expanse of her stomach causing him to clench his teeth in an effort to hold back.

He ducked down, catching her stiff nipple between his teeth, working his tongue over it through the thin fabric.

“Fuck,” Betty moaned, clamping her legs around Jughead’s hips as she began to rock quicker, losing any sense of rhythm while falling victim to all the sensations he was providing her with. “Jug, I can’t… I need to–” she stammered, back bowed in a tight arch, tension ready to snap as soon as he let her.

“Soon,” he panted, moving one of his hands between them, gripping his dick to rub his leaking tip firmly against her clit. Her face twisted as a guttural whine slipped from between her lips, far too loud in the quiet of the house. Jughead didn’t care though as they both hurtled towards their release, Betty looked completely ruined beneath him, by him. “Now, Betty,” he ordered as he felt himself tip over the edge, painting the planes of her exposed torso just like he imagined.

Betty shuddered as she came, his name tearing from her throat, hairline damp with sweat, also pooling in her collarbones. Jughead collapsed on top of her and she held him close, needing the feeling of his weight crushing her.

 ***

“…and she says they’re going to run away and raise the baby together on some farm, like they’ve found the secret to the American Dream or something,” she confessed into the crook of his neck sometime later. His fingers soothed the red skin of her wrist, her hand clutching at his shirt over his chest.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he consoled. She blew out a harsh breath against his skin.

“It’s not, Juggie. I need Polly here, she can’t leave. I don’t know how I’d deal being in this house without her, alone, with our parents…” she choked, shoulders shaking with the first sob. “And Jason… she says he loves her but I’ve heard things, Jug. I’ve heard how the football team talk about girls, and I heard someone say how they’ve got this book where they keep score…” She took a pause to catch her breath. “I don’t like it.”

Jughead thought for a moment, his mouth moving before he could stop it. “We could kill him.” Betty stilled, her whole body going rigid at his side and this is it, he thought, it’s all over. She lifted her head slowly, blinking at him in the darkness with impossibly wide, watery eyes. She was breath-taking when she cried.

“You’d do that? For me?” she whispered innocently and Jughead felt his heart squeeze.

“Anything,” he promised, finally capturing her lips with his. The taste of Betty Cooper’s blood in his memory made room for a brand new flavour – the taste of her tongue. “Anything.”

[evilponds]

“carve your name into my arm/instead of stressed i lie here charmed” hm. big julian mood