#vomit inducing. this show is so good

[jitteryjive]

i can’t stop thinking about a comment i saw on a video once where someone said the only reason they gave helly the dance party was to get pictures of her happy. head in my hands

[messrmoonyy]

- The Forbidden Fruit

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Request- I NEED ARTHUR TO STEAL DUTCHS GIRL AND SHOW HER A REAL MANS LOVING. FILTHY PASSIONATE LOVING. WORK YOUR MAGIC

A/N- I got incredibly carried away with this. Is basically prawn with no plot honestly. And far softer smut than I think you intended it to be but. Here we are. Enjoy.

Warnings- 18+ | implied toxic relationship ( reader is in love with Dutch van der Linde what can you expect here ), smut: affair, Arthur being desperate to please!!!, fingering, oral ( reader receiving ) , unprotected p in v and he accidentally finishes inside oops, like the tiniest amount of cockwarming ( WC-8.9k )

AO3 | Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur didn’t involve himself in Dutch’s relationships. He stayed polite to whatever young woman he had hanging off his arm at the time, but that was about it. He’d seen too many girls come and go- usually in floods of tears at being dismissed by the man that had seduced and charmed them into loving him. Just working his way through shiny new plaything to plaything, hiding his unending sorrow for Annabelle under the skirt of some new girl. 

Unfortunately you were no different. 

In your defence, he supposed, you had lasted far longer than the rest. The only real exception to that being the famed Annabelle herself. But as was almost inevitable, your time in the honeymoon phase was slowly crumbling down around you. 

Arthur did wonder if it was simply because of the current stress levels in camp. They had all been on the run for longer than he cared to try and count, but after the mess in Blackwater they had reached new heights of being hunted. It had never been this bad. Nothing had ever gone this wrong. Because before everything had gone to complete shit, he’d actually seemed quite taken with you. In truth Arthur actually had begun to consider the idea that Dutch really did love you. Had finally been able to move on from the weight on his heart of his dead lover. 

But no. 

Arthur was observing the same pattern as always, it had just taken far longer with you. And that just seemed to make it all the more cruel. 

He barely even looked at you most days now. Barely uttered a few words in return to any question you asked. 

And the arguing was growing ever more fierce. It was practically everyday. 

Arthur didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Dutch treated you. Didn’t like the way Dutch was treating anyone lately. But you in particular had never been anything but nice to him, kind. Sweet. Incredibly naive but sweet. To Arthur too. Some of the girls Dutch had strung along had been vile, rude and entitled and stuck up. But you? You were a genuinely nice person it seemed. And maybe that was your greatest flaw, for someone like that did not belong with Dutch Van Der Linde. 

In fact Arthur had come to like you from a distance. The times he had spoken to you you had been interesting, intelligent. Far cleverer than him and he had always liked that in a woman if he was honest. 

But still you clung to Dutch. Though your patience with him of late seemed to finally be wearing thin. 

Dutch had never really been one to be ashamed or afraid of airing his dirty laundry within the gang. Whether that be packing on the PDA in camp in a way that often made Arthur want to vomit up his breakfast, or the even more puke inducing sounds of the two of you making up all night long. So arguing was no exception to that either. 

And today was no different. 

“ you barely even look at me! I’m right here! I always have been, I’ve always been such a good girl haven’t I? I do as you say. And look at how you repay me! “ Arthur sighed as he dropped a stack of bills into the box, successfully recovering yet another of Strauss’ debts for him. You were both screaming at each other again, the tent flaps pulled down as if that would over any form of soundproofing. It was the camp's regular ambience now it seemed. 

He did feel sorry for you, he really did. You’d left everything you had for Dutch. Some beautiful, intelligent, well spoken girl. Heiress to her daddy’s mining fortune up north, used to the finer things but seeking some adventure. And Dutch had offered you both. Drowned you in jewels and gifts- though unlike the ones you had once owned the ones he gave were not his to give- Shown you off like a shiny new toy on his arm. Expressly informed Miss Grimshaw that you were not to be lifting a finger, that you would not have to earn your keep with chores like the others. 

You earned your keep by looking beautiful beside him, by boosting his ego with your constant devotion to him, by letting Dutch use you for his own source of pleasure and by the sounds of things- that Arthur truly had no choice but to overhear- not getting very much back in return. 

“ You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish woman in my life! “ Arthur sighed and sat down on his cot, debating whether or not to make some attempt to get the sleep he had been planning the entire long journey back to Clemens Point. But his tent was but a stone's throw from Dutch’s. 

“ I have needs too Dutch Van Der Linde!” Everyone else in camp didn’t seem to mind it though, most of them preparing to settle in for the night. Whether that be passing out on their bedrolls or drinking by the fire. But Arthur wasn’t sure he could put up with another moment of the damn yelling. 

“ oh? You have needs? “ Dutch’s voice was condescending. Mocking “ I give you everything! You are acting like a spoiled child”

“ a child? A child!? “ Arthur stood back up again, deciding he’d fare better trying to sleep on the damn ground rather than next to the likes of you and Dutch. So he headed out towards the edge of camp, hiding himself in the woods by the water. He slumped down against a tree with a heavy sigh and wished he’d thought to pick up a bottle of beer on the way. 

But it was no matter. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but close enough that if he was needed anyone calling his name would be heard. 

He looked out across the water, enjoying his rare moment of peace. It was a clear night and a full moon, the reflection bouncing off the water in the most beautiful way. He pulled out his journal and started to sketch it, wishing he could capture its beauty better. 

‘ Dutch and the girl were arguing again. Got out of earshot for a bit to try catch some sleep. Thought the water and the moon looked mighty pretty ‘ 

He scrawled underneath when he was done, tucking it back into the satchel discarded at his side. Javier's guitar had silenced back in camp now and he figured everyone had gone off to bed. But he was quite content there by the water, so dropped his hat over his face and settled in to try and catch a few hours himself. 

He was just dozing off when he heard the sound of boots marching quickly through the undergrowth, snapping twigs as they went. And then the soft sound of someone mumbling to themselves. He silently hoped whoever it was would keep well away from him. But the boots grew nearer and came to a halt not so far away. The crackle of a match being lit and a heavy sigh. 

“ thinks he can talk to me like that? Bastard. Bastard he is. I’m a lady I deserve better than. Than that “ 

You. 

He cleared his throat lightly to inform you that he was there, but unfortunately still seemed to startle you. 

“ Christ! Gave me a damn heart attack Arthur “ he placed his hat down with his satchel with a sigh and looked up at you. In the light of the moon reflecting off the water he could see your cheeks were tear stained, the glow of the end of your cigarette illuminating your face further and showing your makeup in streaks. 

He couldn’t lie that it made his heart ache for you. He didn’t particularly have any solid feelings for you, but he did feel sorry for you. It was hard not to feel sorry for the woman seduced by Dutch. 

And you truly were a cut above the rest in his opinion. Beautiful as the early morning sun and, when you weren’t screaming at Dutch, as kind and warm as it too. But maybe that was fitting. Because much like the sun you could bask people in warmth, but burn them too. Beautiful and bright but scalding and he found he couldn’t look at you for too long, no matter how many times he wanted too. Simply blinding his eyes with your flaming beauty and having to turn away. 

But maybe he was just getting caught up in his metaphors. 

“ shouldn’t be out this far from camp “ you simply shrugged, taking another drag of your cigarette “ ain’t no one nice lingerin’ in woods at night miss” even if no Lemoyne raiders were sneaking around the trees, there were plenty of species of wildlife that would happily do a number on you. Chew off a leg or bite you with poison fangs. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself. You couldn’t handle a gun, didn’t have a single survival instinct in you. 

Dutch had quite made sure of that, he’d heard you ask once or twice. And had been denied. Charming you with some string of words about how you were far too delicate to be handling a gun. To leave it for the men. 

“ you’re lingering in the woods aren’t you Mr Morgan? “ he chuckled and shrugged. 

“ and I ain’t that nice. Point proven lady “ 

“ not like Dutch would care if someone took me anyway. He’d probably be thankful “ your voice was hoarse from the shouting and he couldn’t tell if you were going to cry again or not. You took a long drag of your cigarette before seeming to suddenly remember something, dipping your hand into the waistband of your skirt and pulling out a pack “ sorry my manners. Want one? “ he took one with a nod of thanks “ can I sit? “

You sat down carefully beside him then with a long sigh, tucking your legs beneath you, and leant forward so he could light the cigarette between his lips with the end of yours. 

“ thanks “ you both sat quietly for a short while. Smoking and watching the ripples in the water. He didn’t mind it actually, as much as he had been slightly annoyed at you disturbing his attempt to sleep. You were decent company. 

You rarely strayed from Dutch’s side, but on the odd occasion you had and Arthur had stumbled upon you having a moment to yourself at the edge of camp it had been quite nice. So he didn’t mind sitting there with you, company. For you both. 

“ I think you’re nice. By the way “ you said to break the silence, refrenching his previous comment of bad men lingering in the woods. 

“ No offense to you Miss, but you’re in love with old Dutch. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be sayin’ whether folk is nice or not “ he said it teasingly in some hopes of making you smile. And it did. A little. 

“ maybe not “ he watched you bring your cigarette to your lips again, glancing at your hands. Nails perfectly trimmed and not a single speck of dirt or sign of a scar. Hands that had never had to lift a finger. Ever. It was an interesting contrast to his own. Calloused and scarred and bruised “ but Dutch he… he…Can I ask you something? “ 

“ Sure “ he said and flicked his cigarette away. 

“ Do you think I’m beautiful Arthur? “ you asked meekly. Your face was sad. Lingering innocence yet to be wiped away by life somehow, the kind that only remained because you had lived a life so sheltered. Even with Dutch you were as sheltered as could be “ and don’t lie. Please “

“ I think you’re beautiful, sure “ you turned back to the water again, tossing your own cigarette before promptly lighting another. 

“ Dutch doesn’t. Not anymore. Barely even looks at me “ Arthur ran a hand over his face, not entirely sure what he was supposed to say to you in the situation. At all “ I know I know I don’t expect you to agree. You two you’re…you’re like two peas in a pod aren’t you? “ you said with a small laugh, but it held no humour. You took a long drag of your cigarette. 

“ me and Dutch it’s… we go back a long way. But… I will agree the way he’s been treatin’ you. Ain't nice. Not when you done nothin’ but be loyal to him for so long “ you turned back to him again and gave a small smile. It was like a wave of relief had washed right over you. 

Someone was finally listening. 

“ I think he’s got his eyes on Mary-Beth “ you mumbled, red stained lips wrapping around your cigarette again. Much like how he had found himself admiring your hands he now found himself admiring your lips. Soft and plump and stained red in the way they often were. 

He blamed it on his fatigue. 

“ he’d be a fool to give you up. You’re kind, loyal, hell you might jus’ be the most beautiful woman I know. He’s in a weird place right now. He’ll snap outta it, be back to readin’ you Evelyn Miller in no time. You’ll see “ maybe the last part wasn’t entirely true. But the first part was. And you seemed to bask in his compliments. He wondered when the last time Dutch had said something nice to you had actually been. 

“ Thank you “ you looked as though you might cry again. And he really hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t like to see you cry. And he really wouldn’t know what to say to you then. Once again you turned your attention back to the water and gave a small sigh “ maybe I chose the wrong outlaw “ you said with a small laugh “ always have thought you were quite handsome “ 

He nearly choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat in hopes to pass it out smoothly. He didn’t know if it had worked. 

“ Really? “ 

“ Hmm “ you mused, tilting your head inquisitively to the side “ but you were oh so hung up on that Mary girl when I found Dutch”

“ Yeah well. Mary she’s- that’s all done with now “ maybe Mary was the reason he seemed to sympathise with you so. Because he too had had a broken heart. Though he was sure his was not as brutal as yours. 

“ Guess we both have bad taste don’t we Mr Morgan “ he chuckled and nodded. 

“ That we do miss. That we do “ he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder and squeezed in some form of comfort “ don’t worry bout Dutch though. Really. He’ll come to his senses and if…if he don’t then. Any man would be lucky to have ya “ you sniffled and he figured you’d started crying again “ I didn’t mean to upset- “

“ No. No I’m fine. It’s just…you mean it all don’t you? All these kind words? “ he shrugged and then nodded. 

“ Sure I do. You’re a beautiful woman. Inside an out “ something seemed to flash across your face, a million and one things whirring away behind your eyes. He’d never been that good at reading people, never one for knowing what people were thinking. And the look on your face was the most confusing he’d ever seen. 

The next part happened far too quickly for him to process it. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he truly hadn’t even slightly suspected you to do it. You flicked away the butt of your cigarette and leaned forward, one hand to his leg and the other to his neck. And kissed him. 

He was taken aback and you pulled away before he could make any attempt to figure out what you’d just done. 

“ Sorry “ you sighed in slight annoyance, seemingly at yourself, sitting back beside him again. Like it was no big deal. Just something that had happened and had no real consequence “ shit- sorry “ Arthur scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged with a small laugh. Attempting to play it as cool as you clearly were. 

Maybe he’d finally cracked and entered some weird fatigue induced psychosis, hallucinations and hearing voices. And kissing Dutch’s woman. 

“ S’okay. No harm done “ he was bewildered. Trying to process the last 30 seconds and coming up completely blank. 

“ Just the way you talk about me I- Lord forgive me “ he was certain he must have looked half dense. Still completely confused at what on earth was happening with you. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit flustered at having a woman like you kiss him. Even if you were begging the Lord for forgiveness right after it “ no one’s spoken to me like that in a long time and…and I wish they had. I want to be told I’m beautiful again. I want to be kissed. I want I want…I want a lot of things “ 

Maybe Arthur was a stupid, idiotic fool. Maybe too many gunshot wounds and bumps to the head had finally caught up to him. Maybe he too wanted to act on his ever growing annoyance with how Dutch was behaving. But he found himself reaching out, fingers tucking under your chin to turn your face to look at him. Your eyes were so beautiful up close. Practically sparkling in the moonlight.

Oh he was such a fool. 

“ could’a jus’ asked “ a small smile tugged at your lips and you laughed a little. 

“ Yeah. Of course. Because you’d have said yes Arthur? “ he shrugged. He didn’t know if he would’ve actually. But now the thought was in his head “ alright “ you whispered and shuffled a little closer to him “ indulge me “ 

His thumb was absentmindedly brushing over your jaw, looking at you in the light of the moon and wondering how on earth Dutch wasn’t constantly begging for your attention. If he had a woman like you constantly hanging off his every word he wouldn’t know how to act. Would be like a mangy dog trailing around after you for food.  

“ I might’ve “ you gave a roll of your eyes but you were smiling still, a beautiful, tempting smile.

You were a temptress. A siren. Luring him in with your beauty to do something terrible. And you were vulnerable. Sad and seeking appreciation. And he was truly debating it. 

“ Well…“ you started quietly, looking up at him through your long lashes in a way that made his chest go tight “ there is… still time for you to say yes “ 

“ we ain’t gonna tell no one bout this y’hear? This it’s… it’s jus’ between me and you. Okay? “ your eyebrows furrowed for a second looking up at him intently, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If he was serious. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, needed you to agree or disagree to put the thought to rest.  His thumb continued to brush along your jaw tenderly and your eyes fell closed for a moment. 

How long had it been since someone had touched you with such care? That something as simple as that seemed to mean so much to you. 

“ I understand “ you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He pulled you in close, barely an inch between your lips and then spoke again “ you’ll give me what I want? Don’t treat me like him “ 

“ Anythin’ ya want. You got it. I’ll give ya what you deserve “ you let a shuddering breath escape and gave a small nod before closing the gap between you both again. 

He hadn’t kissed anyone in a while, but he sure found his footing quickly. You kissed him like he was your source of air, climbing your way into his lap and slipping your hands into his hair. You tasted of cigarette smoke and something almost sweet. Whatever it was, it was an intoxicating mix. You were like a siren singing your call in his ear, drawing him in and taking him for your own. The weight of you in his lap was almost familiar, welcoming. Just… nice. 

He had almost forgotten just how fun it was to kiss a woman. How so many men seemed to shun it as boring, pointless- Dutch obviously included. But Arthur had always loved it. Had spent many a night as a youngster sneaking his way into Mary’s room just to kiss her. To spend hours kissing and talking and kissing some more. 

Kissing you was something else. Addictive. Intoxicating. 

Eventually he had to pull away, his lungs screaming at him for air. Your hands slipped out from his hair and down to grasp at the collar of his shirt, resting your forehead on his. 

“ Anything I want you say? “ you asked quietly, breathless. 

“ Anythin’ “ you smiled and lifted your head, a quiet determination settling over you. Your lipstick had smeared and he wondered how much of it was now on his own face. 

“ okay… undress me then “ you softly commanded, shifting slightly in his lap “ please. Dutch never- he makes me do it myself, barely even looks I- Please “ 

He almost laughed to himself about now he immediately thought getting you naked was entirely too risky. As if the entire situation alone wasn’t risky anyway. But he didn’t want to think too hard about that, instead simply channelled his recent annoyance towards Dutch into his actions. Tried to tell himself he was doing a good thing, taking care of you. 

You watched his face carefully as he gently untucked your shirt from where it was tucked into your skirt, some silky soft thing that probably cost more than everything he owned in his clothing trunk put together. He undid every pearl button slowly, eyes darting up to your face as he did. Your chest was heaving in long, heavy breaths. You were nervous. Or excited. He couldn’t tell which. 

You shivered lightly when he pushed it from your shoulders, now only the soft cotton of your chemise between his hands and your chest. Your nipples had hardened, from the slight night chill or lust he couldn’t say. But he found himself unable to resist the sight, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips through the cotton. You gasped softly, a sound so beautiful it made him groan. You sounded delicate. Innocent. You’d never made such sounds when he’d overheard you with Dutch. In fact a majority of the time you almost sounded in pain. 

But this sound wasn’t that. This sound was beautiful. And he wanted to hear more. One hand pushed at your back to bring you closer, the other palmed at your neglected breast in hopes you’d make the sound again. And you did. Gentle, soft gasps as his tongue dampened the material of your chemise, teeth tugging at you gently through the material. Your hand found his hair again, raking your fingers through it and arching your back into his touch. 

He couldn’t imagine why Dutch had never wanted to do such a thing. How could he not want to hear you make those pretty pretty sounds? How could he not want to feel you writhing in his lap and yearning to be touched. Maybe Dutch was more of a fool than he had originally thought. 

“ Need you to touch me- properly I- take this off “ your sentence was choppy, like you weren’t focussed enough to truly articulate the words you wanted to say. But he understood, pulling your chemise over your head and dropping it to land with your shirt. 

He took a moment just to look at you, not even entirely because he knew you’d want him to. Just because he wanted to. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t wondered what was hiding under your expensive clothes once or twice. How could he not when he had to try sleep through the sounds of you and Dutch of a night. 

“ God damn “ he said softly, hands soothing over your waist as you basked in his admiring stare, taking in the feeling of finally being looked at. Properly. 

“ like what you see Mr Morgan “ you asked, voice sultry and low in a way that made his cock twitch in his pants. 

“ Dutch is a damn fool “ is all he could say, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hands moving to grab at your chest. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged your breasts with his large hands, seizing the opportunity to dip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth. Your fingers in his hair, twisting strands around your fingers and tugging lightly. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Certain he’d somehow taken a stumble through the veil and ended up at heaven's gates. 

He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but the way he was prepared to worship and praise you could truly be considered blasphemous. 

He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting his mouth on you again much longer, dragging his lips from yours and wrapping them around a pebbled nipple instead. You rolled your hips against him, those beautiful soft moans still falling past your lips. This was what you had wanted from him. To be worshipped. To be looked at as the beautiful temptress of a woman you were. And not merely glanced at and then used like some two dollar whore in a saloon. 

He wanted to nip at your skin, bite and soothe it with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Dutch seeing it if he felt the need to stop ignoring you for a short while for his own needs. But oh how he wanted to. To mark up your smooth skin with reminders that you were desired. That you could look at as they faded and be reminded that you were wanted. 

“ I need more “ you whispered “ Arthur please. Give me more “ another roll of your hips followed by a small whimper told him enough. 

“ I know I got ya “ he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses up your sternum and your neck. Nose brushing at the underside of your jaw and working his way back to your lips again “ stand up. Lemme get you out of these damn clothes “ he caught the smile on your face as you stood up, he stayed seated and ran his hands over the fabric covering your hips. Something seemed to blaze in your eyes as you looked down on him. He realised it was most probably you that was usually being leered down on, but not now. 

Not with him. Not with Arthur. Arthur looked up at you like the goddess you were, looked up at you with what he knew was a silent pleading in his eyes. Dutch would never ask he knew it. Dutch took. Stole. Used. Arthur didn’t. Wouldn’t. 

“ I like how you look at me “ you said quietly, hand soothing over his hair “ you make me feel beautiful “

“ Cause y’are “ he murmured, hands reaching to the ties of your skirt. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see all of you. 

You helped him with the slightly tedious task of getting your skirts and undergarments off, but all so slowly. Taking his time. Making sure he appreciated every single layer of clothing you removed for him, right down to unlacing your boots and holding your leg gently to help you out of them. Until you stood there as naked as the day you were born, illuminated by the moonlight on the water. 

“ well ain’t you a sight “

Your skin was so smooth. Soft. Not a single scar that he could see. The skin of a woman who had never had to lift a finger. Had never known the hardships that he had. The only true blemish on your skin was the almost completely faded bruises on your hips. Fingertips. Dutch. 

He soothed his hands up your legs, pressing soft kisses to the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he went, and stopped as he reached them. 

“ He can be a little rough. It’s how he likes it “ you answered before he could even ask. Arthur too had been known to have his rougher moments. But he could never hurt you. Never mark you in anyway other than that of affection and care. 

“ I ain’t like that “ 

“ I know. That’s why I want you “ he pulled you back down into his lap, his large hands splaying over your hips as he took yet another moment just to look. To admire. To thank whatever stupid damn God may exist for placing such a heavenly body in his presence “ I feel a little like the odd one out here though “ you said with a small smile, tracing a finger down from the open top buttons of his shirt to his pants. 

He’d been far too occupied with you to even really notice the fact that he was ridiculously overdressed in comparison. 

“ Can’t have that now can we darlin’ “ your smile grew and you made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders with a gentle sigh. You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin and peppering lipstick stained kisses as you went. Littering his collarbones, his sternum.

“ much better “ your hands kept roaming and your lips kept kissing. Hands seemingly wanting to touch him all, scratching lightly up his sides and over his waist, his stomach and his ribs. Slowly moving to slide over his shoulders and loop around his neck. You rolled your hips against him again and whined softly. He was so hard it was growing painful as he stayed restrained by his pants. But he wasn’t selfish. Not like Dutch. And he wasn’t about to seek out any form of pleasure himself until he had you seeing the stars you deserved. 

“ tell me what y’want “ he murmured, peppering soft kisses across your jaw. 

“ touch me “ you sighed blissfully “ please touch me “ 

His hand slipped down in between your bodies, brushing past the soft curls between your legs and couldn’t contain the groan of a sound that left him when he felt how warm and wet you were. 

“ Christ “ he muttered as your head dropped to his shoulder with a shuddering breath “ he ever touch you like this? “ he asked lowly, already knowing the answer. Why would he? He didn’t get anything out of it. 

But Arthur did. Oh Arthur did. 

“ no “ you whispered “ no never…please. More “ he tested the waters, pressing lightly against your clit and revelling in the squeak of a sound that it caused you to make. 

“ or like this? " You shook your head again, breathing shakily as he dragged his finger through the wetness and drew light circles around your entrance. 

“ Arthur “ you moaned his name in the most delicious way as he pushed his finger inside, burying it to the knuckle 

“ yeah and what about this darlin? “ he again knew the answer. Dutch didn’t care about your pleasure. Didn’t care about wasting time on something as simple as making you whimper and whine for more “ he touch you like this? “ 

“ no “ 

“ think ya can take one more for me? “ you nodded again and he withdrew his finger, gathering your slick on his other before pushing them both past the resistance of your entrance “ that’a girl “ he pumped his fingers in and out steadily, curling and probing at your velvety soft walls to test what you liked. 

“ This is so… oh god. This isn’t proper at all “ you laughed slightly, melting into a soft moan. Arthur chuckled, lifting your face up so you’d look at him. 

“ Ain’t proper at all? It’s damn right filthy darlin” your cheeks were aflame and you closed your eyes for a moment, grinding yourself against his hand “ look at ya. Drippin all over ma fingers like that. Ain’t proper. Not one bit “ you smiled, a cheeky, devious smile that made him lean forward and kiss you again. 

You were so wet it was obscene. He couldn’t tell where the sounds of you kissing stopped and the sopping sounds of his fingers began. You continued to grind down against his palm, practically riding his fingers, his whole hand wet and sticky with you. 

And he wanted to taste it. To taste you. To flood his mouth with the slick, liquid gold covering his fingers. It was an almost primal desire, like a desperation as strong as needing air. He needed to. He had to. 

“ Darlin’ “ he murmured, lifting your head from where it had fallen to his neck again “ gotta let me taste you. You gotta “ the look on your face only made him want it more. Your skin flushed and eyes blown out with nothing but pure lust and desire. He’d never needed anything more. Nothing else mattered, not the painful hardness in his pants, not the realisation that you were very much Dutch’s girl. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be between your thighs. 

“ really? No one’s ever- oh god. Yes. Yes. Please Arthur “ he withdrew his fingers making you whimper and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and lay it down on the ground. Then he kissed you again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently turning you to lay back on the shirt. It still couldn’t have been particularly comfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind, tugging at his hair and lifting your hips up against him as he hovered over you. 

He took his time moving down. Leaving a long and slow trail of hot, wet, kisses on your skin. You writhed underneath him, whining softly and twisting your hands in his shirt underneath you. He took extra time with your thighs. Kissing up from the inside of your knee and stopping before he could place his mouth where he really wanted to, then repeating with the other. 

“ Arthur “ you whined, still squirming around and desperate. 

“ I know. I got ya. Gonna make those pretty sounds for me again yeah? "You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him as his head sank lower, spreading your legs wider to give him full access to the centre of you “ that’s a good girl “ he spread you open with his fingers, in awe of the way you parted for him. Like petals on a flower, dripping with the morning dew. 

But you were far more delectable. A forbidden fruit begging to be tasted. 

And oh was it pretty. Even in the dark, in nothing but the light of the moon on the water, it was pretty. Begging to be tasted, touched. Admired. 

The sound you made as he dragged his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit was like music to his ears. He didn’t know how he managed to not come in his pants just at the sound of it. 

You still kept it quiet, but loud enough for him. 

His own, deep, guttural moan escaped from his chest as he licked again. Your taste flooding his mouth in a way so so much better than he could’ve imagined. 

He ate you like he was starved. Like a savage predator that hadn’t seen meat for days, like a man ready for the gallows enjoying his last meal. His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as you bucked and squirmed against his face. It was visceral. Carnal. You made him feel like his grip on his own composure and control was weaker than ever, that he was holding on to it with nothing but his fingertips. 

“ Arthur “ he dipped his tongue into the welcoming warmth of your cunt, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he felt you clench around him, desperate for more. Desperate for him. And he would give you more, would give you anything you asked of him. But not until he made you come first. 

He let go of one of your legs and brought his fingers back to their previous position, wanting to feel you again. To be inside of you, as close as he could get. To make you see stars. 

The flat of his tongue found your clit again, certain he could feel you pulsing against him. Desperate and full of desire for him. He felt honoured, privileged. That you were so loyal to Dutch, glued to his side. Never even batting an eye at anyone else. And yet you had broken that for him. Had sought him out because you knew he would treat you well. 

Your back arched off the ground as he sunk them back into you, slipping in with a welcome ease. His thick fingers pumped into you at a steady pace, his tongue diverting all its attention to your clit. Lapping and sucking and letting you press his face harder against you as you tugged on his hair. 

“ don’t stop please dont- Arthur “ he had no intentions of stopping, none at all. In fact he simply honed in on his ministrations, working harder to push you closer and closer to the edge of the orgasm he knew you had been craving for weeks. 

“ Not gonna stop darlin. Ain’t stopping until you come for me. Taste so good, so good “ he murmured against you, curling his fingers and hitting a spot that made you gasp and your body shudder “ there we go, right there “ 

He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you as best he could to gauge your reaction. You were pulling a little painfully at his hair, squirming and rolling your hips against his face. He let you do it. Let you be the one using a man for your pleasure, rather than being the one used for once. 

Your sounds were sinful. Melodic. He took it all in. Basked in the noises you made for him, the delicious taste of you on his tongue, drunk on you. On your taste. Your smell. 

“ Arthur- Arthur please I- “ you babbled, a slightly smug smile working its way onto his face as he watched your prim and proper facade melt away “ don’t stop “ 

He hummed an assurance that he wouldn’t, your hips bucking against his face as he did. You were so unbelievably wet, dripping out around his fingers and soaking the hair of his beard. He would never have thought it of you. The way you held yourself around camp, so poised and prim. The accent when you spoke that made everyone else around you sound so common. And yet there you were. On your back in the woods, chasing an orgasm being offered to you by an outlaw. Repeating his name like a mantra. 

And not even that of the outlaw you were in love with.

“ Arthur- “

Only seconds later it happened. You held a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit you, muffling your choked moans, back arching off the ground and walls clamping down on his fingers as he worked you through it. Tongue still working diligently at your clit until you pushed your hand at his head, squirming away a little. 

He almost didn’t want to stop. Could’ve happily stayed there a while longer, but moved back, an obscene wet sound in the late night silence as he withdrew his fingers. 

He took his fingers to his mouth, sucking the remnants of your climax onto his tongue. Unable to control himself. You watched him do it, mouth slightly agape and eyes half open with some desperate undeniable look of utter desire. He could almost see the way it made you feel, could see you unable to contain the overwhelming feeling of realising you were desired. Wanted. 

“ God. You are unbelievable “ you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing at his arm. Your fingers looped around his wrist and tugged his hand towards your own mouth. He shook his head with a chuckle, slightly in awe as you took those same two fingers between your red lips. 

Your tongue swirled between his digits, plush lips wrapping around them and sucking. Your eyes locked on his as you did. It made his cock ache. He wanted your lips on him, wanted your tongue swirling around his length and milking him dry. He could imagine it if he thought hard enough. The way you hummed slightly in appreciation as you sucked his fingers clean, sent vibrations straight through his bones. Rattling him to the core. But he would never ask that of you. But the thought was one he would hold onto. It made him shift slightly. 

“ you ain’t so prim and proper lady “ he murmured as he withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips and your lips “ This ain’t very proper of you miss “ Arthur said with a small smile, teasing “ rollin’ around in the dirt with the likes of me “ 

“ Oh to hell with being proper if it means I get to feel like this “ you said with a small laugh and he kissed you again for what felt like the millionth time. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his lips, smell the heady delicious smell of you on his beard.

He would’ve been more than happy to leave it at that. No matter how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside you and stay there for eternity. His goal had been your pleasure and he had achieved it. 

But as he kissed you your hands began working at the buckle of his gun belt, opening it with a skilled ease that made him pull back. 

“ Darlin’ you ain’t gotta do that- “

“ shush “ you pushed at him lightly so you could sit up and went to work on the buttons on his pants next “ I want to. I- Arthur take them off “ he made far quicker work of his own clothes than he had of yours and you leant back on your elbows to watch him. 

You looked like a pinup girl. Like something he’d seen drawn come to life. Your eyes seemed hungry as you looked at him, dragging down his body and lingering on his rock hard cock. He was practically throbbing with want, the tip an angry shade of pink and leaking precum slightly embarrassingly “ come here. Please. Back down here “ 

He did as he was asked, crawling back over your body as you eyed him greedily. 

“ We really don’t…I mean, If y’don’t wanna- “ his words stuck in his throat as your fingers wrapped around the length of him with a small sigh. 

“ I want you to I just…can I ask one thing? “ he couldn’t get the word yes to escape his mouth, your fingers squeezing him softly in a way that made him see flashes of white in his vision. So he simply nodded “ don’t fuck me. Dutch fucks me, make love to me “ you seemed a little embarrassed at the request. But he didn’t think it was embarrassing. In fact he had had no plans to use you as brutally as Dutch. He was almost a little offended you thought he might. 

“ Told you, anythin’ you want. You got it “ you smiled softly and pressed another kiss to his lips before laying back down again. He positioned himself over you, caging your head in between his arms. And it truly was incredibly intimate. He wondered when the last time you had had such intimacy was. If you’d ever received such a thing from Dutch. 

He spat on his hand and grabbed a hold of his sensitive cock, stroking himself a couple of times to get himself slick. Not that he really needed to, you were already wetter than he’d ever known a woman to be. But the last thing he wanted was your discomfort. He lined himself up with you, eyes trained on your face as he dragged his weeping tip between your folds. You gasped as he caught your clit, still sensitive and alert from your first orgasm. 

“ Arthur please “ you whimpered rolling your hips up against him, so desperate to have him inside of you. 

“ So God damn wet for me “ he murmured “ such a good girl ain’t ya? “ you whined in answer, fingers wrapping around what you could of his bicep and digging your perfectly trimmed nails into his skin “ gonna make you feel so good I promise darlin’ jus’ like you deserve yeah? “ you whispered out a yes and brought your other hand to the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, still running his cock along the length of your slit. Teasing. 

“ Keep looking at me. Please look at me Arthur “ he continued to do as asked. Again. Though his eyes had barely strayed from your face anyway “ I need you so badly “ Eyes locked on yours, he finally pushed into you, he took it slow. Letting you take it inch by inch, watching the look of ecstasy wash over your face. Your eyes fell closed. 

He fought to retain his own composure, overwhelmed by the tight, wet, warmth of your walls enveloping him. He could feel every unique ridge and bump that made your cunt oh so perfect, feel every muscle stretch and contract as you adjusted to him. 

“ god- oh god “ 

“ shh shh easy there. I got ya “ he paused once he was seated inside of you, grabbing at your hip with one hand to angle your hips better. Allowing you to comfortably take all of him in. He waited, let you adjust to his size, not daring to move before he got the go ahead from you “ there you go, look at you, takin’ all of me like that. So good f’me “ you basked in his praise, a dopey kind of smile spreading across your face.

“ so much bigger than him “ you whispered with a small laugh and Arthur couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. Kissing you and touching you and making you come on his tongue had been one thing. But having you like this? Having his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so unbelievably close together. And to then be told that? To know he was about to do you better than Dutch ever had. Ever could. It felt like the biggest fuck you to the man that had been not only mistreating him of late, but also the goddess of a woman beneath him “ I’m good. You can move. Please move “ 

He didn’t need telling twice. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting back in in one smooth motion. The pace he fell into was just as you’d asked. Loving. Tender. But hard and deep, making sure his hips were flush with yours with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled his face back down to kiss him again. 

If anyone had spotted you they’d have easily mistaken you both for a lovesick couple having a private moment to yourselves. The entire thing intimate and passionate. No one would assume it was an affair in motion, hidden away in the woods by the shoreline in fear of your lover finding the pair of you there. 

But it was what you wanted. What you had needed. And he felt privileged to provide. 

He pulled back from your lips to watch you again, enthralled by the way your face relaxed and twisted in the pleasure he was providing you. You continued to spill those angelic sounds from your throat, growing breathier and higher pitch as he continued to drag his cock against the sopping, sensitive heat of your cunt. He had to focus hard not to finish in seconds. So much build up paired with being practically celibate for months was truly doing him no favours, but he focussed. He wasn’t letting this end until you came once more. You deserved it. 

“ Keep those pretty eyes on me “ he murmured as they fell closed again “ that’s it darlin’, look at me there ya go “ everytime he spoke the slightest word of praise you practically beamed, so desperate to hear it. To be told you were good. Beautiful. So different to Dutch constantly yelling at you about how annoying you were, how much your mere presence bothered him these days. So he kept it up. 

“ Doin’ so well for me. This pussy it’s perfect, ain’t that right? C’mon tell me “ he urged, still fighting off his ever looming orgasm. The sounds alone was enough to make him want to burst. Sweat slicked skin on skin, the wet sounds of your cunt dripping around the swollen intrusion of him. And those sweet sweet moans of yours. 

“ yes “ you whimpered “ it’s perfect “ 

“ That’s a good girl “ he increased his pace ever so slightly and your hands slipped from his arms to his back, dragging your nails down him to try to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

He moved a hand down between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, grunting and choking back his own moans as you squeezed him. Like your body never wanted him to leave, gripping his cock with your cunt and making it ever more harder to hold back. He couldn’t help but have a look, glancing down to see the way you stretched around him, mesmerised at the way you took him in so deep. 

“ tell me I- oh. Tell me I’m beautiful “ you whimpered, sounding almost like you might cry. From pleasure, from upset. He didn’t know. But he continued to do as asked. 

“ you’re beautiful “ he murmured picking up his pace a little more, his sweat slick skin slapping against yours. He was desperate to see you come again. Wanted to see your face up close this time, watch your eyes roll back and your kiss swollen lips part in ecstasy “ so beautiful darlin. Doin’ so well f’me, takin’ me so well “ 

“ don’t stop, don't stop “ he dropped his head to your neck whispering every word of praise he could think of into your ear, your body arching up against his and whimpering and whining with every word. 

“ ain’t ever looked prettier than this “ he whispered, his own voice becoming breathless with the effort “ shit- look at ya, takin’ my cock so well. So pretty darlin’ “ 

Your second orgasm seemed to shock you as much as him, clawing at his skin to hold him close as your body trembled beneath him, biting at his shoulder to muffle your moans. 

He didn’t mean to finish inside of you, had fully intended to pull out. But the way your cunt had squeezed him, the sounds you had made as he pushed you over the edge for the second time.

He muffled his own groan of pleasure in your neck, fingers digging into the dry earth beneath you, spilling load after load whilst fully sheathed inside of you. His entire body tensed, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing loudly in his ears as it seemed to drag on forever. 

And then he came to his senses. 

“ m’sorry. Shit. Sorry “ he panted as he tried to compose himself and pushed himself up onto his hands to pull out. But you yanked him back down, arms wrapping around his back again and legs tightening around his waist. 

“ no. Please. Stay. Stay right there. Just a moment would you “ he had come to realise in the past.. how long had you two even been out there? However long it was, he’d come to realise he was terrible at saying no to you. Could never possibly even dream to deny you of anything you wanted from him. And so he slumped back down onto his forearms, dropping his head against your shoulder for a moment. Your chest heaved beneath him and you caught your breath, fingers tracing gentle strokes along his spine. He felt he could stay there for hours. 

“ You doin’ okay? “ he asked, pressing a light kiss to your jaw when he had composed himself a little more. 

“ marvellous Mr Morgan “ you whispered with a small smile “ truly. Marvellous “ he couldn’t help but kiss you again, the long lingering kind meant for two lovers. 

After a few minutes you both finally moved, re dressing in silence and then sitting back in your original position against the tree. He handed you a cigarette, lighting it and placing it between your lips. 

He wondered what he looked like. Wondered what evidence you had left on him. Had he sweated off the lipstick prints on his chest or were they still there? He knew you had scratched his back up good and proper and would have that reminder there for a few days at least. 

“ Thank you. Mr Morgan '' you said quietly after a few silent moments of smoking, blowing out a long stream of smoke “ I mean it I- i'm not sure what I’m supposed to say “ 

“ Don’t say anythin’ “ he said with a small wave of his hand, appearing as blaise as he possibly could but in reality knowing he wasn’t about to forget that night anytime soon “ its fine. Really. Anytime y’need me, for anythin’, you know where I’ll be “ you smiled and he watched your body relax a little more. 

“ you know, i might just take you up on that “ 

He sincerely hoped you would. 

[neonovember]

So I currently have food poisoning and I can’t help but it think how mad Carmy would be if a restaurant gave his gf/wife food poisoning

Also Carmy come take care of me and make me soup plz 🙇‍♀️😫

Plus he would give the best snuggles 😭

firstly, sending lots of love and recovery, i've never actually had fp lmao so a lot of time on webmd will be spent. get ur fluids in! secondly, carmen might have to go underground for setting the restaurant on fire. we love him for it

summary: You were hungry and had just finished work and you didn't think about inspecting the goddamn Michelin star restaurant, maybe you should have.

warnings; cursing, food poisoning, richie (he's a warning), hipsters, talks of future arsony, possessive carmen, cracked fic ngl,

divider by @firefly-graphics

i'm slipping back into the unsafe territory of wanting fictional characters. (and i don't care)

You could roll your eyes in annoyance if you weren't hunched over the ceramic bowl of the toilet heaving out the contents of your stomach while Carmen held you hair back.

The one time, the one goddamn time you decide to try a new place without Carmen's input, without his meticulous standards and in depth research behind every night out.

It wasn't like you hadn't tried to vet the new braised beef spot that opened up on west Avenue. In fact, you had heard all but stellar reviews from friends and family, meeting you with suprise hearing that Carmen hadn't taken you. You decided to bring home a small plate, their signature braised meat with plums, red onions and atrichocke hearts.

You had meant to share it with Carmen, and you were going to, but a botched catering order had him staying back another hour than what had been planned. And well..you say you tried to save some for Carmen, but despite its bacteria laced beef and vomit inducing sides it was pretty fuckin' good.

Was this God's wrath coming down upon you? Punishing you for your gluttony? Food poisoning did feel awfully close to perpetual hellfire.

The TV was blaring some indescriptive show, the kind with dramatic introductions and soap opera worthy screams. It helped fill the space of absence when Carmen worked long nights, and you felt quite comfortable wrapped up in a blanket with a full stomach and a warm sofa.

Your phone had pinged with the sound of Carmen's text, letting you know he was on the way when it started. At first you had written it off as mere indigestion, probably from shoveling the cursed meal into your mouth too quickly.

Then, around the time the show's main character had found out her boyfriend got her mother pregnant, the nausea set in. Swirling aches that felt like a whirlpool in your stomach had taken over, sloshing and swirling and never leaving. You couldn't mistake it, as you tried to swallow past a dry throat and the creeping sweats of a headache inducing fever began to ravage your body.

You hated sitting in discomfort, it wasn't as though you were afraid of vomiting no, you just could not bare to feel the way your stomach skipped and jumped with every wave of nausea that took over.

You thought of making yourself sick, but shook your head when the alarming disapproval of Carmen's voice loomed over.

"It's just gonna make it worse, you gotta sit with it till it passes"

Fuck him and his medical knowledge. What did he know?

You had ripped off the blanket that had once felt comforting, peeling of layers of clothing that stuck to your body like a second skin. You just felt hot, so hot, is anyone else feeling this heat? You try to move from the couch to reach your phone, but the sudden movement has nausea bubbling up your throat.

You fall to the ground in a heap, hand clasped around your mouth to stop the possibility of projectile vomiting on the rug you had just bought and shoot your hand up to reach for your phone.

You press Carmen's number, begging him to answer you in genuine crisis rather than when you were drunk with friends and missed him. You feel the urge to heave and crawl quickly to the bathroom, phone clasped in hand and suddenly desperately needed his medical knowledge.

Carmen phone rings from the behind the stack of documents in the office, and he hastily wipes his hands across his apron before trying to reach it before it rings out.

Guilt fills his stomach at the thought of you, he was meant to be home hours ago. The catering order needed a few extra hands to help, and once Carmen began he got lost in it, and now you had spent nearly the entire night alone.

"Fuck- Hey baby, I know I said I was comin' but I had to finish a couple things-" Carmen quickly responds as he swipes the call button.

The groan of pain that responds has Carmen freezing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Baby? What-, are you okay?" Carmen replies quickly, his voice going short as his mind turns every possible scenario that had you whining in pain over the receiver.

"Please come quickly, Carmen I think I might-" You gulp and make a retching sound "I think I got sick from that place I was telling you about" You plead out, breathing heavily into the speaker.

The guilt that had filled Carmen seems to morph into an anger that rushes up his chest as he shakes his head.

"The new place? The one with the fuckin' smoke meat? They did this?"

"Mhm" You mumble "I should've just listened to you" You groan out in sadness.

"Fucking idiots. How the fuck did they even? Okay, okay honey just gimme a second yeah?"

How did he let this happen? Carmen has half the mind to stop at the restaurant that more of a Instagram attraction that a respected place of business. You were so eager and excited t try it, Carmen had his own thoughts but would glue his mouth shut if it meant making you happy.

He'll make sure they get shut down, or at least black listed from Chicago as long as he's concerned. His hands shake with the eager want for the fight, to smash someones jaw for resorting you to a heap of tears and sick. He would, he knows he will, but at this moment he needed to take care of your first.

He mumbles out a rushed reply, phone between his shoulder and ear as he slips out of his work shoes and into his sneakers. He thinks for a moment to grab his things but immediately shut that thought out when he hears you groaning into the phone.

"Just stay on the phone okay? I'm coming now, I need to get you some things alright?"

You let out what you hope is a reply, hunched over the toilet.

Carmen rushes to the store fridge, grabbing containers of soup Tina had prepared for family as the Chicago winter was getting close.

"You alright kid?" Richie mumbles, walking into the kitchen entry way, scratching his stomach as he watched Carmen's erratic movements around the store.

"Fuckin-, she's sick. And I'm here chopping up tomatoes for fucking Guy while she was in pain for god knows how long-"

"Woah, Bugs sick? We talking COVID or.."

"I'm such a fucking idiot. No it's not COVID Rich, Jesus Christ. Some rookie new spot trying something outside of their abilities gave her food poisoning. Fuckin' hipsters"

"Oh that's bad. You know when I got food poisoning the one time I took Tiff to this romantic getaway. Had me projectile vomiting in the AirBnb bathroom. Couldn't even get a deposit back, had to pay some dumb ass cleaning fee-"

Carmen wipes a hand across his face shaking his head. He was already pent up, he might throw a pan at Richie if he doesn't stop talking.

"Richie, I don't have time for this, I need to get her some Sprite or"

Richie shuffles across to the cupboard near the back of the house, grabbing bottles of Gatorade and a pack of saltine crackers.

"How do you even have this stuff lying around"

"You're the one with the inhuman alcohol tolerance Carmy, someone of us actually have hangovers you freak" Richie retorts

"Yeah yeah, thanks. Fuck- I gotta" Carmen replies, to which Richie nods.

"Go. I'll wrap up anything here" Richie replies, understanding in his voice. You took precedence over pretty much everything in Carmen's life.

"And Carm?"

"Yeah?" Carmen calls out, slipping on his jacket as he turns to Richie

"Tell me when we're going to sort out those bearded wearing flannel ass wipes"

Carmen shakes his head with a smile, before nodding and pushing past the kitchen doors. The traffic lights better be green green fuckin' green tonight.

You were stripped to a singlet and sleeping shorts as you knelt over the toilet, blinking back exhausted tears at the state of you.

You suppose you have no one else to blame but yourself, but the indignation righteousness burns almost as bright as the acid reflux crawling up your throat.

You hear the faint opening and loud clang of the apartment door opening and closing and you sigh in relief as you hear the familiar footfalls of Carmen down the hall.

It had felt damn near torturous suffering without him, and as he calls out to you following the trail of loose clothing he spots your figure in the bathroom sprawled.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry" Carmen says

And it was as if your body needed to finally feel safe in Carmen's presence before you felt the nausea spill out of you and splash offensively into the toilet.

You feel Carmen crouch above you, dragging your hair that had gone loose from it's wrapped up do away from your face. Gently rubbing your back, his large hands softly dipping up and down your spine.

"That's it, 'atta girl. Let it all out" Carmen coo's softly

You purged the insides of your stomach into the toilet bowl, retching loudly with every heave as Carmen comforted you. After what seemed like hours, and the nausea had subsided Carmen carefully wrapped his arms up under your armpits picking you up of the floor.

"Slowly, yeah? You damn near emptied out you're entire water content" Carmen murmurs, flushing the toilet and helping you walk to the basin and wash out the taste of bile from your mouth.

"I probably look insane" You cry out, blinking back exhaustion from your eyes as Carmen shakes his head furiously.

"Never, my pretty girl. Need you to go easy okay? Gonna take you to bed and let you sleep through it. Can't have you collapsing on me" Carmen murmurs, wiping at the edge of your mouth, patting the sweat that stuck to your forehead.

You let Carmen carefully maneuver your body, one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back walking to the bedroom. Your wring dry and can barely keep your eyes open as Carmen placed you on the cool sheets you immediately moan at.

You hear the faint rustle of movement as Carmen brings in a paper bag. The clunk of bottles placed on the bedside table as you sing praise for the very short bit of relief you have before the next bout of nausea rolls in.

Carmen pads to the adjacent bathroom, the door opened so you can see the stream of light that illuminates him. Hes running a cloth under water, squeezing the excess and looking up to check on you every so often.

He looked so...domestic, like he hadn't come back from working at one of the most decorated restaurants in Chicago. Stripped of his shirt so he stood bare chested, golden curls pushed behind his ears, sweatpants hung low on his hips and the furrow of his eyebrows in concentration and worry.

Your eyes flutter shut as you thank the midnight sky for bringing him to you, for keeping him for you, this one good thing that was yours.

The skies answer by the sound of his voice listing off all the things you will not be doing in this stage of recovery. Sitting on the edge of the bed as he places the cool rag against your forehead, lips between teeth as he feels your temperature under his skin.

"Just bone broth, Gatorade and bread sticks for you, doll. And no, before you even think it, its not the garlic ones." Carmen tsks.

You were thinking it. He knew you too well, but when he kisses your eyelids and measures out careful tips of the Gatorade bottle, you don't mind it.

[domnamewoman]

what would shang tsung, syzoth, smoke and rain be like with a gn!witch? who do spell with more natural things, like crystal, herbs, etc... imagine them being like "I found this little rock, maybe you'd like it" and their s/o picks it up like it's a goblin lol. I love your work, u are amazing 🌟

Characters: Rain, Shang Tsung, Reptile, Smoke

Warnings: Witch!GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

“Can you hand me the duck feathers?” You ask, reaching out your hand to Syzoth.

Syzoth picks up the feathers from the table and walks over to you, placing them in your hand.

“Thank you.” You grab the feathers and stir them into the brewing elixir.

“It amazes me that all these random ingredients can be mixed together to create magic,” Syzoth says in wonderment.

“It’s not so much the ingredients than it is the intention of the person mixing them.”

“Hmm, so the real power comes from you,” Syzoth contemplates as he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Yes, I guess in a way.” You nod, “But I can’t enchant someone without them being exposed to the potion in some way.”

“You seemed to do a pretty good job of enchanting me,” Syzoth mumbles into your cheek as he places a kiss there, “Making me fall for you.”

“You are so cheesy,” You grumble, loving every part of it.

“I think I might pass out…” Zeffeero pants as he hovers over the toilet.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” You apologize as you rub comforting circles on his back.

“Why”–heave–”Why would you even need a p-potion that induces vomiting?”

“It can be useful to demobilize an enemy during a fight,” You reason sympathetically.

“Except I’m not an enemy who's trying to fig-” Zeffeero gets cut off by more contents getting expelled from his stomach.

“I mean it is kind of your fault. Why would you drink a random liquid you haven’t seen before?”

Zeffeero turns his head to you and glares, “M-My fault? I was thirsty. Why was your potion in the refrigerator?”

“The ingredients had to be cold in order to fuse together properly,” You sigh as Zeffeero is hit with another bought of vomiting, “Okay, I should have labeled it. I’m sorry.”

“H-How long is it s-supposed to last?” Zeffeero pants out.

You cringe, “Two hours…”

“Two hours!?”

Shang Tsung stares at the potion you were brewing with repulsion. He leans over and takes a sniff before quickly covering his nose and holding back a gag.

“You know, I would be most delighted to teach you my sorcery. It is more sophisticated than creating vile concoctions like this.”

“Oh shush, there is more than one way to do magic, Shang. This is mine,” You say as you add five drops of toad’s blood to the cauldron.

“It’s tedious and ineffective in an emergency. You have to spend time brewing potions and then have someone consume it for it to work,” Shang Tsung argues.

“They don’t have to consume it, I can also put it in a bottle and throw it at them like a Molotov. Also, making potions isn’t tedious, I actually find it rather relaxing.”

“What could be relaxing about this horrid smell?”

You roll your eyes before turning to Shang Tsung and raising an eyebrow, “Well if your sorcery is so sophisticated, why don’t you zap away the smell?”

You and Shang Tsung stare at each other, your smile growing by the second. Shang Tsung pompously waves his hand before turning around and walking away.

“I thought so,” you chuckle as you turn back to your potion.

You’re standing in your spell room, organizing your crystals and taking stock of potion supplies when Tomas excitedly bursts through the door.

“Baby, I got you something,” Tomas sings as he walks up to you with his hands behind his back.

“What is it?” You excitedly inquire as you try to peek around him.

“Something almost as beautiful as you.”

“Show me already,” You impatiently demand.

“Ta-da!” Says Tomas as he brings his hands in front of him and extends his fingers to reveal a rainbow-colored crystal sitting in his palms.

“Oh my gosh, Tomas-”

“It’s pretty isn’t it? I knew you would lov-”

“No, it’s dangerous.” You snatch it out of his hand and jog to the front door, throwing it as far as you can away from the house. “That is a lifeforce-draining crystal.”

“I-I just thought it was a pretty rock… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head lovingly at Tomas as you comfortingly rub his arm, “I appreciate the thought, anyway. Just leave the crystal scavenging to me.”

[b1mb0bunny]

i cant stop thinking about him

wc: 500ish fluffy baby-fever induced word vomit

girl dad!otoya who's also a single dad because while i can see him having a daughter, i can't imagine this guy married

girl dad!otoya who'd never even imagine being a dad, yet here he is holding a tiny bundle of joy that looks like him

girl dad!otoya who struggles through putting together the crib, having to reassemble the thing a few times and there's still a few screws left over when he's finished

girl dad!otoya whose search history is now full of "how to change diapers" and "why won't baby stop crying at 3a.m."

girl dad!otoya who wonders how something so tiny can make such a huge mess whenever bath time rolls around and he ends up covered in bath bubbles

girl dad!otoya who has to learn how to deal with his little angel's tantrums, trying to figure out if she's teething, hungry, sleepy or just wants her toy

girl dad!otoya who learns he likes doing his little angel's hair, tying her hair up in cute pigtails, even if they end up a bit crooked

girl dad!otoya who'd honestly be a mess at first, but once he settles into the role he's happily showing off his little angel to his friends

girl dad!otoya who introduces his little angel first and foremost to karasu, he's now uncle karasu whether he likes it or not

girl dad!otoya whose bachelor pad becomes a playground for his little angel, walls now covered in paint and crayons and toys scattered wherever

girl dad!otoya who learns how to braid hair to help his little angel look pretty for her first day

girl dad!otoya who realises he has a whole new demographic he can tap into when a mom flirts with him while hes picking his daughter up from daycare

girl dad!otoya who still keeps finding glitter everywhere after his daughter discovered arts and crafts

girl dad!otoya who excitedly praises his daughter whenever she shows off her drawings to him, all of them getting pinned onto the fridge

girl dad!otoya who panics when his little angel first gets a fever, immediately ringing up karasu for help and taking the next few days off to deal with his sick angel

girl dad!otoya who dresses his little angel up in the cutest clothes and accessories, sometimes even matching his outfit with hers

girl dad!otoya who likes to take pictures of every adorable moment of his little angel's life

girl dad!otoya who has an album in his gallery dedicated to moments with his little angel, ready to be shown off at any given moment

girl dad!otoya who likes bringing his little angel on errands, making simple grocery runs into fun treasure hunts

girl dad!otoya who keeps a stash of snacks in his bag to bribe his little angel with whenever she gets fussy

girl dad!otoya who bluescreens when his little angel says she has a "boyfriend" while he picks her from daycare and he briefly wonders if this is karma for his previous lifestyle, the relief he feels when she says it's the boy who shares his toys with her and sits next to her during circle time

girl dad!otoya who likes to bring his little angel to games, saying she's his good luck charm and making sure she has front row seats (her sitter too ig)

just girl dad!otoya

im going insane someone help me

[hwanchaesong]

━⁠☞🍽️ Fifth Course: Watching his delish life in pictures comes with a sense of dread. Isn't it vexing that he's living the life while you're out there vomiting in pungent public restrooms? 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Good 4 U

wc: 543

genre & warnings: angst like yn is really mad lmao, nonidol!san, yn is drunk af, mentions of alcohol and drinking, cursing, lovers to exes, betrayal, mentions of vomit etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Y/N, you really should stop drinking excessively y-"

"Shut the fuck up!" you slurred, slumping on the wall of your bathroom and glaring at your ex whom your friends did the honor of calling to get you home safely.

San sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he's had enough of your childish antics. You two have already broken up a few months ago so really, you are not supposed to be his responsibility.

Still, he's not that merciless. He can't just allow you to go home by yourself where potential danger could get you killed. Unless your liver suddenly decides to give up on you.

His kindness does nothing but to further aggregate you, though.

No, not kindness. Consideration.

Yes, that's the right word.

It infuriates you to no end that even in the middle of the night, he comes running to the bar and picks you up to get you to your apartment in one piece.

But what you hated more is seeing him in a state of good life.

After all the shit he's put you through. You're here still suffering the repercussions of his actions while he's out there being happy and lovey-dovey with your former best friend.

Truly a vomit-inducing situation even without the help of alcohol.

Imagine, back then, if you would have known that they'd get together after he dumped you for no reason then you wouldn't have trusted them.

Fucking hell.

It did you no good to remember that shitty place that you promised not to visit ever again. But life ain't that easy, because if it is, then you'd be rich and happily married to the love of your life.

You were snapped out of your maddening stupor when his phone rang, not paying attention as he excused himself and chose to fixate your gaze on the crack of your bathroom floor.

Then again, sometimes, you hear bullshit when you don't need it the most.

He's talking to her. In your house. In a very loving voice. The same tone that he used to utilize whenever he speaks with you, now reserved for someone else.

"Yes baby, I'll be home in a while, okay? Okay. I'll see you later. I love you so much."

Disgusting, vile creatures that are incapable of feeling guilt. Oh, how you wish you could just strike them with thunder so they can finally go to hell, where they can burn together.

"Y/N I will h-"

"Get out here." you mumble lowly, standing up from your position and he frowns.

"What's your problem?" he asks, confused as to why you're acting sober and gloomy.

You laugh weakly, coming closer to him only to push him out of the bathroom, "My problem is none of your business. So, get the hell out of my apartment and do not ever, fucking ever show your face to me again."

You did not give him the chance to reply as you shut the door on his face, your whole body flopping on the cold tiles.

Soon enough, you heard the main door of your apartment close and you can't help but chuckle despite the tears streaming down your face.

It really is not difficult for him to leave you after all.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @xdannix @nsixns @heartssol @vixensss @shakalakaboomboo

[ravenssilver]

Maybe something with Phantom getting left out of dinner in the beginning? Started with someone intentionally or accidentally leaving his plate off, and he's too nervous to ask why he doesn't get one when Aurora does. He eventually stops coming to dinner, and someone starts to notice just how sickly, and dizzy the smaller ghoul looks because he's too afraid to ask for any food or take any yet

unfortunately this is is part one of two :( i got super caught up in writing a whole mini story, and i felt bad for taking so long, so here this is!

1.4k words of phantom being neglected because i can’t get enough of the heartbreak

cw: mention of body issues, phantom is nervous about being around the pack, small scene of phantom vomiting, i guess some of this could be seen as an ed? the ask is a good wrap of cws!

also, ‘quint’ is used in this instead phantom or aeon, and will likely be that way in the next part :)

under the cut, if you please<3

He didn’t have a name. At least, he hadn’t come up with one.

The others referred to him as Quint, just to get names straight among him and his summon buddy, Aurora.

He stared at the ceiling as he laid in bed, his eyebrows furrowed.

Aurora had a name. Did she pick it out? Or was it Cirrus and Cumulus? Why didn’t the others pick out a name for him?

He sat up with a sigh, feeling hungry.

He glamoured himself as best he could, only having enough of a grasp on the ability to hide the different color splotches in his skin.

As he walked out of his room and to the common area, he stared down at his arm which was buzzing with his quintessence induced glamor.

Aurora’s markings were beautiful. The subtle yet bright flows of pinks and purples and blues blended perfectly with her skin. The small swipes of green made her look like a perfect painting that had hours of detailed brush strokes put into it.

His markings just looked like splotches. Random globs of paint flicked at a canvas in a half-assed attempt to make art.

He wondered if Aurora ever tried to glamor away the markings of her skin. Surely not, as she was gorgeous. The colors of her skin showed her personality and her connection with confidence and self love. Her mental state flowed healthily through her skin, the beauty of security blending in with her vessel.

He sighed and dropped his arm back down to his side, trying to focus on his pack’s laughter just around the corner and the scraping of forks against plates.

His steps slowed for a moment.

Dinner had started?

Confused, the newly summoned ghoul sped up only to slow down again. He peaked around a corner, seeing his pack at the dining room table. All the chairs were full, all plates had someone behind them and were stacked with the delicious cooking of Swiss and Mountain.

Every chair was full. Every plate was stacked.

There was no space for him.

A little ball of anxiety formed in his stomach, making his quintessence spark. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he stepped around the corner and shuffled to the kitchen to fix himself a plate.

Though, he was quick to realize all the food prepared was on the table.

Mountain and Swiss had prepared a feast in celebration for the pack’s first dinner together. Dew and Rain had just returned from a small trip away with Copia for business, of course everyone would want to celebrate.

He looked at Dewdrop and Rain. He took in their appearances, memorizing his first in person encounter with them as he was simply used to seeing them over FaceTime.

His eyes traveled to Swiss and Mountain as he set his plate back in the cupboard.

Maybe they were just swept up in the joy of being reunited with their partners and that’s why they forgot to prepare a plate for him.

He nodded to himself and snuck out of the dining room.

That’s okay. He can eat leftovers tonight and he’ll have a plate tomorrow.

He sighed as he brought his fifth night of leftovers to his room. It was long after dinner, and it was long since the others had retreated to their rooms.

Tomorrow, he told himself, I’ll have a plate tomorrow.

He knew, deep down, that he had been forgotten. Of course he knew. Twice was an accident, a coincidence, maybe. Three times, if you had self respect, was a pattern.

But for the young quint, it was an accident.

It was an accident just like the fourth time, and now, this time.

He slowly ate his potatoes, his churning stomach fighting against every bite he took. He was lost in his thoughts, off in his own world of anxiety and the pain of knowing he was being left out of his own pack.

He hadn’t been able to keep food down when he realized that he had been forgotten. Every night he would eat a meal long after dinner, only to be bent over a toilet not long after.

He celebrated every bite he took and could swallow, having not been able to get this far the night before.

Though, his food was quick to come right back up when he heard Rain’s laughter in the next room over. He tossed his plate down and rushed to his bathroom, which wasn’t helpful since it was right next to Swiss’ room, which Rain was in.

He hurled into the toilet as Rain’s laughter continued, now accompanied by Dew and Swiss’. And once his stomach had no more food to send back up, it sent its own acid instead.

He felt like he was dying. He was light headed, his body was trembling, and his throat burned and felt like it was closing up. He sobbed as he flushed the toilet, struggling to close the lid due to how shaky he was.

He knew Swiss, Dew, and Rain couldn’t hear him over the sounds of their laughter and Swiss’ record player. He knew that he hadn’t bonded enough with Aurora, Cirrus, Cumulus, or Mountain for them to feel his strife.

That just made him even more sick.

He gave up on even going to dinner a week ago.

He also gave up on leftovers after Swiss and Mountain started cooking smaller portions after having a conversation about how they always had “too much leftovers.”

He sighed as he pulled on a shirt that was too big for him. He thought it was the shirt Swiss had given him when he was summoned, but after staring down at it for a few moments he realized that it was his shirt.

A shirt he had bought with his own allowance money from Copia.

Why is it so big? Did the dryer stretch it? He asked himself, messing with fabric for a few more moments before he left it alone, opening his door and leaving his room for practice.

He sighed to himself as he walked into the practice room early, seeing Copia sitting in a chair as he waited for the ghouls.

“Ah, hello, Quint.” Copia smiled at him as he looked up. “Hello…” He choked out, not realizing his voice was so hoarse. Copia’s eyebrows furrowed and he stood, watching as the new ghoul struggled more than usual to pick up the Fantomen.

“Are you alright…? You look, how shall I say… pale? Worn out?” Copia asked, looking concerned for his ghoul.

The quintessence ghoul looked up, apparently a bit too fast for his body’s liking. His head spun and he stumbled back slightly, eliciting a slight exclamation of surprise from Copia. The ghoul stumbled back into a chair and sat ridged for a moment before sloppily acting like he had meant to fall.

“I’m fine.” He stated, his shaky fingers doing a run up the A string.

Copia stared at him for a moment, a bad feeling swirling around in his stomach.

“You will tell me if you are not, yes?” Copia asked, worried about his ghoul. “Yes, Papa,” the small quint nodded, shaking out his hands to try and make his trembling go away.

Copia’s frowned deepened as he went to say more, only to be cut off by the loud clamor of the rest of his ghouls crowding into the practice room.

Copia sighed, knowing the conversation would have to be put up on a shelf for the time being.

“Dewdrop.”

The fire ghoul turned around as Copia called his name. He watched his pack slow down for a moment, only to be reassured with a soft smile from their Papa that Dew hadn’t done anything wrong.

Dew watched as the pack nodded and walked out of the practice room, Quint following behind and slipping out of the room just before Copia called for him.

The fourth Papa sighed deeply, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Is everything alright, Papa?” Dew asked, sensing Copia’s worry. And though it wasn’t far off from the man’s usual demeanor, Dew could tell this was different.

“No.” Copia sighed, knowing he had to be blunt. “I am worried for our young Quintessence. Have you noticed anything off about him?” Copia asked.

Dew’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, going to say something, only to realize just how much of a ghost the new quintessence had been.

“I… I haven’t seen much of him at all, actually. He’s never shown up for dinner and he stays in his room all the time.” Dew responded, now realizing where Copia’s worry was coming from.

“Keep an eye on him, yes?” Copia requested. Dew gave a curt nod and walked out of the practice room, quick to catch up with his pack.

[silentglassbreak]

I usually don't so this, but since you posted it not so long ago, are the requests still open? And if so, can I ask for meeting Noah after a show, talking about fantasies and maybe some vampire role-playing? But also lots of fluff after because he's a good top. My name's Maggie and my most prominent features are that I am short, I wear glasses and I have dark curly hair.

Alrighty, let's just get right into this one, because there is truly no time to waste.

After Writing Notes: Baby, I am so sorry. I have no clue how we got here...but here we are? Once again, we went a lil off prompt, so I apologize if it wasn't exactly what you were looking for? I hope you enjoy regardless! Just a heads up, this is -BY FAR- the darkest one I've written so far.

Rating: Explicit AF

Warnings: smut, kink, blood play, roleplay, blood...blood...blood, horror themes, light BDSM (choking and biting)

Die For You

February 14th, 2024.

Valentine’s Day is the bane of my existence. I was so tired of the patrons, the demanding orders, and - mostly - the couples. It was vomit-inducing. Did my recent breakup contribute to the way I was feeling?

Sure. Probably.

Did it change the fact that I was in the foulest mood imaginable?

Not in the slightest.

I leaned my head against the brick wall of the building, my break slowly waning, signaling I was due to go back in and finish the last two hours of this God forsaken shift. Being a waitress had no perks. None.

Instead, it came with cons that I had to endure in order to pay my bills.

“Hanging in there, Maggie?”

I sighed and turned to the door, hearing Alexa’s breathless voice. She was certainly struggling in there without me.

“Yeah, just getting some air. I’ll be in there in less than five.”

She nodded and stepped out into the cool evening air. She pulled a cigarette from her pack, lighting it between her lips.

“Have you seen the announcement on Insta?”

I rolled my head to the side to glance at her. “What announcement?”

She smirked, pulling her phone from her back pocket and opening the app, handing it to me.

The poster was on the Black Veil Brides page. It was blood red, with bright white font.

BLOOD BATH

October 31st, 2024

Kia Forum

BRING ME THE HORIZON

FALLING IN REVERSE

BLACK VEIL BRIDES

BAD OMENS

ICE NINE KILLS

THE FIVE BIGGEST BANDS OF METAL

ONE NIGHT ONLY

TICKETS SELLING FAST

My brain almost didn’t register what I was seeing.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” My eyes were blown out as I looked up at Alex.

“Nope. Tickets are $850 a piece, I checked.”

I groaned, tossing my head back. “I could never afford that, let alone before it sells out.”

Alexa scoffed, sucking in the smoke of her cigarette. “You’re hilarious. I just wanted to make sure you’d want to go.” She snatched her phone back from me.

“What?” I quirked an eyebrow at her.

“I have two tickets.”

My heart fell into my stomach. “E-fucking-xcuse me?”

She cackled. “Who else would I take? I’ve got a savings for a reason, right?”

My jaw was hanging open. “Alex, that’s insane. That’s $1,700!”

“$1,896, actually. Including taxes and fees.”

“That’s insane!” I repeated.

“When are we ever going to get to see all of those bands at once? It’s obviously some kind of crazy event. Can you imagine the crossovers we’re going to see? The theatrics!” I couldn’t speak, I was too stunned. “Plus,” She dropped her spent smoke and stomped on it. “I figured you needed some cheering up today. I know Bad Omens is your favorite.”

I could not physically restrain myself any longer, throwing myself at her and wrapping my arms around her shoulders.

“You’re the best fucking human being alive, you know that?!” I peppered kisses on her cheeks, making her squirm.

“Yes, yes, I’m aware.” She wiped my smeared lip gloss off her face.

She stalked back to the door, pulling the handle. “Now let’s finish this bullshit, so we can go celebrate. You’re buying.”

October 31st, 2024

The line to get in was impossibly long, so Alex and I were sat on the ground, chatting about the songs we were excited to hear, and who we were most excited to see.

“Spencer is the actual love of my life, and I cannot wait to see his fucking face.” She gushed.

I smiled. “Oh, don’t I know. But Andy? Ugh, how fucking mouthwatering.”

The doors would open shortly, so we stood, and promptly filed our way in. The venue was huge. We both agreed we would not be drinking, figuring we had a long time to stand and would end up exhausted.

We opted to grab two water bottles from the bar and head to the GA floor. We were early, luckily, and managed to grab a spot up at the rails.

Waiting nearly an hour, the lights finally came down, and the crowd erupted. Alexa was absolutely feral, listening to the opening of Rainy Day playing. When Spencer bounded onstage, full suit attire, and blade in his hand, she nearly jumped the rails.

As he passed us near the stage, I noticed something. I tapped Alex’s arm and she leaned her head down to hear me.

“He’s wearing fangs!” I shouted. She glanced up and looked, seeing the same.

Her eyes rolled as she licked her bottom lip. “Fucking bite me, Daddy.” She groaned, and I bursted with laughter.

She was so unhinged.

Ice Nine Kills finished their set with Welcome to Horrorwood, sending blood red confetti into the air, before gracefully stepping off the stage. During the set I had noticed a few things that almost seemed…off?

First of all, it wasn’t just Spencer with fangs. It was the entire band. Being as close as we were, I could see the shiny white fangs exposed every so often when they’d open their mouths to sing. These weren’t cheap, Amazon pop-ins either. They were convincing. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have sworn that they were their actual teeth, filed down to sharp points. It was interesting.

As well, everyone in the band seemed to have a looming presence tonight. It was so difficult to explain, but it just as if they weren’t just looking at the crowd, but like they were searching it. Looking for something specific, with pointed stares and glaring smiles. It ran a chill up my spine when Spencer made direct eye contact with Alexa for a full minute while singing Hip To Be Scared. It was as if he was looking at a meal.

She ate it up, as expected.

The next set, however, was Bad Omens, and I could not have been more excited.

I had seen them twice before, and their Setlist didn’t stray much, so I was actually shocked when the usual Loading Screen didn’t show, and the opening to Artificial Suicide didn’t begin.

Instead, the opening song was Blood. That was so odd. I didn’t think they even performed this song. The crowd loved it, however.

They still started in all ski masks, and removed them for the next track - Like A Villain.

During the chorus, I was singing and swaying, giving my full attention, but stopped as soon as Noah moved close enough that I could see it.

He was also wearing fangs. My eyes darted to Jolly, who was easiest to see from where I stood. He licked his lips and, as I suspected, there they were - sharp and white.

Alexa seemed to also notice this, tapping me to lean in. “It’s called Blood Bath, so it must be a vampire themed show for Halloween.”

I nodded, because that seemed legitimate.

But still…

I expected that out of Ice Nine or Black Veil Brides. Hell, Oli Sykes actually had fangs.

But Bad Omens?

They weren’t as theatrical. I was surprised they had agreed.

However, I was pulled out of my thoughts when I felt eyes on me, and my attention was pulled back to the stage. A pair of deep, nearly black eyes were staring at me.

The song had changed, and we were on Nowhere To Go. And he was staring at me.

No, not at me. INTO me. Something in my soul felt exposed, as if I had shown up to this show nude.

I couldn’t break eye contact. I was caught between being starstruck, and immensely terrified. His lips were turned up in the slightest of smiles.

“Are you ready?”

I swallowed hard.

“I’m in the driver’s seat now.”

He finally broke his gaze, headbanging between screams.

Once I was released, I inhaled a sharp breath, turning my back to the stage. Alexa noticed as I crouched down, breathing hard.

“Babe?!” She bent down next to me. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “It’s too hot in this crowd, I’ve got to go.”

She got down to my eye level. “Maggie, you want to leave during Bad Omens?!”

I nodded feverishly, my dark curls sticking to my neck. Despite being sweaty, I had a cold chill climbing up my spine.

“I’m going to have a panic attack. I need a break.”

Maggie nodded, looking solemn. “Okay, let’s go.”

I stopped her, grabbing her arm. “No, you stay here. Save our spot. I’m going to go get some air, and I’ll be back.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re sure?”

I stood up, adjusting my shirt that had bunched up at my waist, and pulled my glasses on top of my head.

“Yeah, I’ll be back after their set.”

She sighed, but hugged me and told me to be careful.

I pressed my way through the crowd, not chancing another glance at the stage, despite feeling the eyes on my back.

-

The evening air was cool, in the fifty-degree range. I worried my sweatshirt with my fingers, feeling the air pull in and out of my lungs.

I had slipped out of the side entrance to the smoking area. I ducked under the ropes and to the back of the building to be alone. The tour buses were back in this area, but I paid it no attention, working hard at calming my nerves.

I had been out here for at least forty-five minutes. I could hear the music inside, and knew Bad Omens’ set had been over now for about five minutes. Figuring it was now a good time to make my way back to Alex, I pushed back into the building, seeing the crowd had not moved much.

I had tried to enter at several different points, but the bodies were condensed so tight, and unwilling to give up their spots. After fifteen minutes of trying, I growled and pulled my phone out, tapping Alexa’s name.

When she answered the phone, she shouted. “Hey! Where are you?”

“I can’t get back up there! No one is letting me through!”

She groaned. “Fuck! Okay, I’ll come out.”

“No! Don’t do that! Black Veil Brides is next! You cannot miss that!”

She went quiet for a second. “Maggie, I don’t want you to be alone.”

I stepped back outside so I could hear better. “I’ll be fine. I’ll watch the crowd to see if I can make it back in later.”

“You’re sure? Cause I will leave right fucking now. You know you’re more important.”

“Babe, you spent almost all of your savings on this. I’m not ruining it for you. I can see from back here.”

“Promise?”

I smiled. “I promise.”

Electing to stay outside a while, I sat on the curb behind the building, going through the photos and video I captured of Ice Nine Kills’ set. I managed to catch Spencer staring at Alex on camera, which I promptly sent her.

She responded quickly.

Alexa: OMFG HE’S IN LOVE WITH ME

I giggled, shaking my head at her response. Going back to my photo album, I sat watching the videos when I heard Black Veil Brides start.

Bleeders was the first song. Fitting.

Alexa: Dude…Andy’s wearing fangs too. It’s definitely a theme.

Me: Love it.

The music was so loud that I hadn’t heard the footsteps behind me.

“Excuse me?” Startled, I jumped up, turning around.

An impossibly tall, hooded man stood, hands in front of him, eyebrows raised.

It took me about three seconds to register who it was, and my mouth fell open.

“Are you okay?”

Noah fucking Sebastian.

I was caught between stunned, ecstatic, and horrified. He had such a soft look on his face. He looked immensely different than he did on stage. He wore black joggers with his own logo on them, a plain black hoodie, and a black baseball cap.

“Wh-“ My voice shorted, so I cleared my throat. “What?”

He smirked slightly. “Are you okay? I remember you from the crowd, and I saw you leave. I almost stopped the set when I saw you crouch down.”

I was floored. He noticed that? I knew he saw me, but Jesus Christ, I didn’t think he saw me?!

“Yeah, I, uh…” I stammered. “I just got really hot. The pyrotechnics and all.”

He nodded, chancing a step toward me. “You sure? You look pretty pale.”

Fantastic. Not only did I leave early during his performance - which he fucking saw - but I also looked fucking peaked at the same time.

I forced a calm smile. “Yeah, I’m good, promise.”

He seemed satisfied with that, putting his hands in his pockets. “Did I freak you out? When I stared at you?”

That was on purpose?!

I didn’t get a chance to answer. “I just perform better sometimes when I have something to focus on.”

I was bewildered, my eyebrows knitting together. “And that something was me?”

He smiled, a warm expression. “I guess so.”

“Why?” I couldn’t stop it from falling out of my mouth. Did it matter?

He shrugged his shoulders. “I liked your face.”

That’s a really strange answer.

“Okay?” I shifted one foot to another, not sure what to say or how to act.

“Why aren’t you watching the show?”

I sighed, moving back to the curb, deciding to sit back down. He made quick work of doing the same, sitting about a foot to my right.

“My best friend is up there. I couldn’t get back in to where she is. I tried.”

He nodded. “Ah.” His hands still in his pockets and knees bouncing rhythmically, he glanced around.

“Well, I’m going to watch from the balcony. Want to join?”

My heart rate sped up, screeching in my chest. His lip twitched at the same time, which was ironic.

“I,” My brain was misfiring, but I knew better. “I can’t.”

His eyes almost fell, his expression turning nearly…sad? “Oh?”

“I can’t leave Alex. I promised I’d make it back to her at some point.”

“You can bring her if you want.”

My mind was short circuiting. This couldn’t be fucking happening.

“I, uh, don’t know.” Something was too weird. This didn’t just happen. “I really shouldn’t.”

He nodded, pursing his lips. “No worries.” He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “If you change your mind, I’m going up before Oli’s set. I’ll be around.”

With that, he turned around, and took a few steps. He spun back around and raised an eyebrow at me.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“Maggie.”

He smiled. “See you later, Maggie.”

-

Me: I NEED TO FUCKING SPEAK TO YOU IMMEDIATELY.

Alexa: What level urgency? They’re playing In The End.

Me: B L A C K.

Alexa: OH FUCK IM ON MY WAY.

Alexa and I were regular show goers, so we had code we used.

Urgent situations were assigned a color.

Green: Good to go. Nothing to worry about.

Yellow: Shit’s getting weird. We need to keep eyes open.

Red: Urgent. Get to me ASAP. Serious situation.

Black: Get here now. Highest level priority.

Alexa came barreling out of the door and ran toward me, out of breath. “Are you okay? I got a knife in my boot that they didn’t take. I can stab someone!”

I grabbed her shoulders. “I’m fine!”

She stopped abruptly, narrowing her eyes. “What? Then why the urgency? I missed the end of the set!”

“I met Noah Sebastian.”

Her face deadpanned. “I beg your finest pardon?!”

I just nodded. “Out here. He remembered me from the crowd.”

“Are you fucking with me? Cause Maggie, I love you, but I’ll punch you right here, right now if you’re lying.”

“There’s no need for violence. She isn’t lying.”

Both of us snapped our necks to our left, the hooded figure stepping out from behind one of the buses. Noah came into view, hands still in his pockets.

“Nice to meet you, Alex.”

She visibly reeled, a shrill screech leaving her mouth.

“Holy fuck! It’s actually him!”

I giggled, glancing back at Noah, whose eyes were on me again. I straightened my spine, feeling that same fear sinking in from before.

“I was telling Maggie earlier that I planned to watch the rest of the show from the balcony with the guys. Wanted to invite you to join.”

Her mouth hung open, hand reaching for my arm and pulling me close. “We’d love to.” She answered for us.

I shot her a look. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to do this. I still had the unnerved feeling that something wasn’t right.

She ignored my stare, smiling brightly at Noah.

He returned her grin with his own, which was oddly menacing. I noticed at that moment that he still had the fangs in.

“Awesome. Follow me.”

We did as we were told, following him into the back of the building, passing people who obviously were working on the show. We were far enough behind Noah that I pulled Alex in close, whispering to her.

“I feel weird about this, babe.”

She stared at me incredulously. “Why? Isn’t this your biggest fantasy?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course it is, but it feels strange. Why us?”

She shrugged. “We manifested it? I don’t know. Shit like this happens all the time.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think it does.”

The balcony he lead us to was private. It was between sets, so the other members of the band were sat, relaxing, beers in hand. It was set up as a lounge, three couches lined up.

Noah graciously introduced us to the other band members, and we shook their hands feverishly, awestruck. It wasn’t lost on me that all of them still had the fangs in.

Alex had struck a conversation with Nick Folio, explaining how she played drums in high school. I sat slowly on the end couch, seeing the view of the stage that was incredible. The couch sunk next to me, and I glanced over to Noah, who was tapping a message into his phone.

“Aren’t those uncomfortable?”

He looked up at me, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

I pointed to my canines, and he snorted.

“Oh, right. Yeah, you get used to them.” He locked his phone and slipped it in his pocket.

I nodded. “You guys are dedicated to the theme, huh?”

He smiled, showing off the sharp points, and ran his tongue over one. “They’re not easy to take off.”

“Mm.” Must be glued on.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, leaned back on the seat with his arm over the back.

“Do you do this all the time? Pick up random fans?”

He narrowed his eyes, grinning at me.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because it seems abnormal. What makes us so special?”

He sat up, leaning forward on his elbows so he was inches from my face, his breath cool. “What makes you think you’re just some random fan?”

I scoffed. “Because I am?” I leaned away from him, needing air. “I’m just a girl. Short. Glasses. Mop of hair. I didn’t even wear makeup tonight.”

He leaned back as well, keeping a distance between us. “So? Why does that mean you aren’t special?”

I rolled my eyes. “I think I’m not the first fan to be in a balcony with you.”

He nodded. “You’d be correct.” My heart sunk just slightly. “But you’re the first one I went looking for.”

My eyes popped open.

The fuck did that mean?

“Looking?”

He snickered, sighing loudly. “You got me. I thought you were attractive. Really attractive, okay? I figured I’d see if I could catch you.”

This caught me so far off guard, I nearly fell off of the couch.

“You think I’m attractive?”

This made him belly laugh, my disbelief.

“Maggie, can I let you in on a secret?” I just nodded. He leaned his head over, whispering. “I think you’re mouthwatering.”

A sharp tingle shot up my spine, and I wriggled next to him.

The lights went down, and the crowd cheered as Falling In Reverse began their set.

Popular Monster. This show was a trip.

We watched the show, Alex and I singing along to the lyrics of nearly every song. Every so often, Noah would lean over and tell me something about the song playing, complimenting Ronnie’s artistic ability or the instrumentals. The guys all seemed to be enjoying it as well, air-guitar and drumming. 

It was just far enough away that I couldn’t tell, so I leaned into Noah. “Is Ronnie wearing fangs too?”

He nodded, lips nearly touching my ear when he spoke. “It was Oli’s idea. We all have them.”

Made sense. I smiled at him, catching his eyes wandering my face. His arm was tucked neatly behind my back now, resting on my hip. Something about the encounter changed. I didn’t feel fear anymore, rather, Noah’s presence felt safe. It felt comfortable and I felt myself craving it. The air almost lightened, my shoulders relaxing as I exhaled a breath I had been holding.

“Can I tell you something?” I nodded, leaning back in to hear him. “I’d kiss you right now, if you’d let me.”

My eyebrows shot up. He pulled his face away, running his tongue over his bottom lip. A pit opened in my stomach, causing me to swallow harshly. 

“And what if I don’t?”

He smirked, his tattooed finger coming up to swipe across my bottom lip. “That, darling, would be a tragedy.”

It was involuntary, the way my body pressed closer to him, the soft skin of his lips brushing against mine. It wasn’t quite what we wanted, but it was so close.

My self control was fading, and he knew it, his hand tightening on my hip.

“If you’d let me?”

That was it. My lips were pressed against his, molding to his mouth, and breathing into his soul. I felt the sharp tooth scrape over my skin, which elicited a hard groan from me. His other hand came up to the side of my neck, and his fingers tangled in my curls.

We lasted this way for several minutes, finally pulling away with a sharp hiss from his mouth. His eyes were feral, wild. His grip on my hair was tight. He bored into my eyes, speaking something that I couldn’t read.

We were pulled from our moment when a hand tapped my shoulder. I whipped around quickly, and his hands released me.

Alex stood, eyes wide, and smiling. “I hate to interrupt, but I’m going to run to the restroom. Just wanted you to know.”

I wiped my lips with my thumb, feeling a sharp pain. I nodded at Alex, who furrowed her brows, bending down to speak directly at me.

“Watch the fangs, babe. You’re bleeding.”

I looked down at my thumb, the deep red filling the ridges of my print.

A hand came up to wrap around my wrist, staring at my finger. He swiftly and smoothly lifted it to his lips, sucking it into his mouth. When he released me, my finger was clean.

He smiled a sheepish grin at me in response to my shocked expression. “Too weird?”

I wanted to say yes, because that was the normal person thing to say. However, given the heat that had pooled in my stomach and the way my thighs clenched together, I just shook my head.

The music was loud, booming into my chest, and I leaned back onto the couch, staring at Noah.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked me.

“That there’s no way this is real.”

He smirked. “Sometimes, it’s better to believe it’s not.”

This confused me, but he was wrapping his arm around me again, pulling me into his side, and looking down at the stage. We tried to watch the performance, we really did. But within minutes, I was in his lap, straddling his hips, and our tongues were fighting for dominance while his hands roamed up and down my legs.

I sighed, closing my eyes as his lips trailed down my jaw to my neck, nipping gently at my pulse point. He licked a stripe up my windpipe, causing me to rut against him.

“Fucking hell, Maggie.” He leaned back, and I pulled back, hands on his shoulders. “You’re so fucking amazing.” 

I blushed, leaning back down to nibble on his ear. In my peripheral vision, I caught my phone on the couch lighting up. I had four missed texts from Alex.

“Shit!” I grabbed my phone and sat back on his legs.

“Everything okay?”

I shrugged. “Alexa isn’t back, and I haven’t checked my messages. I got distracted.” I said, eyeing him mischievously.

He responded by scratching his nails down the front of my leggings.

Alexa: BABE Spencer is out here talking to Andy!!!!

Alexa: OMFG he’s looking at me. I’m going to talk to him.

Alexa: HE REMEMBERS ME FROM THE CROWD.

Alexa: He asked me to go to his balcony. I have to. It’s the one next to Noah’s. I’ll be there if you need me.

I smiled at my phone. “Such a weird night.”

“Is she okay?”

I nodded, setting my phone back down. “Yeah, uh,” I shook my head, trying to understand how this had happened. “She met Spencer Charnas, and she’s in his balcony.”

He nodded, looking apprehensive. “She’s a fan of his?”

“The biggest. She’d die for that man.”

His eye twitched at that, almost a wince. “Mm. Maybe she should stick with you?”

My face fell, confused. “Why?”

He bit his lip, glancing over to where Folio sat, who was staring directly at him. “I don’t know. Just seemed like the kind of thing you guys do.”

I nodded, falling off of his lap. “Usually, but this is kind of once in a lifetime.”

He sighed hard, his eyes glancing back up to Folio. “I wish it wasn’t.”

This was confusing, his entire demeanor had shifted.

“Are you okay?”

He worried his bottom lip with the fangs, and nodded. “You, uh,” He looked at his bandmates, who were all giving him a look. “want to see the bus? I need to get something, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

There was something under his tone that made me almost flinch. It was as if he wasn’t giving me a choice…

“Okay? I mean, or I could wait with Alex in the next balcony?”

“No!” Noah’s voice was harsh, causing me to wince. “I mean, let her have her time. Once in a lifetime, right?”

I nodded, unsure.

“You trust me?”

I sighed, suddenly wildly unsure. “Should I?”

He nodded fervently. “Yes. You should.”

-

The tour bus was enormous. It was also a total mess. It was as if it was more lived in than an actual home. I try not to judge, but there was stuff everywhere. Drink containers, beer bottles, random garbage, clothes. The shades were drawn, and you couldn’t see outside. 

Noah turned around with a look of embarrassment on his face, a hard contrast to the persona he had on all night. He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Sorry, the guys said they’d clean up…I guess they forgot.”

I shook my head, giving him a warm smile. “No worries. You guys have to live here, I get it.”

He sighed. “Can I be honest?”

“I’d hope so.” I giggled, hands in my sweater pockets.

“I didn’t need to grab anything, I was just hoping for some privacy.”

My eyes widened, and I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Oh…” Suddenly uncomfortable, I began scanning the bus for all of the exits, the closest being the door behind me.

“You don’t have to stay, it was just stuffy in there and the guys are kind of really fucking nosey.”

This made me smile. “I caught that.” I pursed my lips, looking around, trying to soothe the hammering in my chest. “I could stay.”

“You sure? Oli is going to go on soon.”

I nodded. “Once in a lifetime?”

This almost made his face fall, and he leaned against the counter of the kitchenette sink. “I wish it wasn’t.”

This gave me pause, and I moved to stand next to him.

“What do you mean?”

He pulled his hat off, revealing his mop of long dark hair that was overgrown. “I just…” He trailed off. “I don’t get to have normal relationships, yaknow? Date? See people more than once? It doesn’t really happen.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why not?”

He smirked at this, looking down at his shoes. “My lifestyle doesn’t really allow it.”

I nodded. Rockstar life had to be tough.

“Well, just because you can’t date someone, doesn’t mean you can’t be friends, right?” I won’t lie, I was slightly hopeful.

“It’s kind of more complicated than that.” 

I nodded, not wanting to press further, and an uneasy silence fell over us. After about three minutes, he finally spoke.

“I liked kissing you.”

I couldn’t prevent the grin that cracked on my lips. “I liked kissing you too.”

“I didn’t bring you back here for that. I just thought I’d mention it.”

This was one of the pivotal moments in life where you decide how it goes. Walk away? See what this is, and make the smart choice to end it? 

Or consider this the Gods giving you a gift? A one-time chance to fulfill a fantasy you would otherwise never get again?

I decided quickly that life was too fucking short, and moved to stand in front of him.

“Can we…just do what we want? Because this will never happen for me again, and I find it painfully difficult not to jump on you right now.”

He peered up at me through his lashes, his eyes pitch black. “Yeah? You’re sure? I don’t want to be a dick, but you know I can’t continue anything after tonight.”

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes for a second, and opened them with no hesitation left, staring directly at him. 

This gave him the answer he was looking for, as it took less than a fraction of a second for him to have me pinned against the wall behind me, hand on my throat, lips attacking my mouth feverishly. A smooth growl rumbled from his throat, and something inside of me clenched. 

With the grip in my neck, he guided me to spin, lifting me up onto the countertop. My legs wrapped around him instinctively, and I breathed into him, feeling his hands smooth up my legs, and push them apart so he could press himself between them.

His mouth pulled at the skin of my jaw, surely leaving bruises I’d have to explain to Alex later. When I felt the sharp point of the fans against my skin, I placed a hand on his chest.

“Noah?” He didn’t pull back, but only hummed in response as he licked and sucked on my collarbone. “Maybe you should take the fangs out?”

He stilled, frozen. This caused me to do the same, waiting for his next move.

“I can’t.”

My brain didn’t register that. “Can’t?”

“They aren’t coming out.” He breathed again on my skin, making me shiver. “Is that a problem? If it is, tell me now.”

The idea of not going further made my body physically scream, so I just shook my head, signaling for him not to stop.

His arms, strong and solid, lifted me clean off of the counter and pulled me into the hallway, our lips reconnecting. In the back of the bus held a large bedroom area, and with one hand, he slid a door shut behind us. 

He lowered me onto the mattress and became so gentle, I almost couldn’t handle it. His hands reached to unzip my sweatshirt, pulling it open to reveal my crop top. I chose to go without a bra tonight, knowing I’d be keeping my sweater on. His eyes roamed to my hardened nipples pressing against the fabric, and he bit his lip in response.

“If at any point you want to stop, tell me, okay?”

I nodded.

“Say it. Say you understand.” His voice was callous, no playfulness left.

“I understand.”

This brought a wicked smile to his face, fangs pressing out and his tongue gliding over them. “Good girl.”

He was ruthless, his hands pulling my shirt up, exposing my bare breasts, hands grasping them with force, pinching each nipple between his fingers. I yelped at the sudden painful sensation, but pressed into his touch. His knee balanced him on the bed, pressing against my core. I writhed under him, begging for friction.

“So fucking needy, darling. All in good time.”

I sucked in a breath, nearly whining at his teasing. His right hand snaked up my chest, grasping at my throat. The pressure was so much, but I couldn’t ask him to stop because it was so good, I was okay with dying right here like this.

His other hand slid down my stomach, nails scratching into my flesh, before he gripped the waistband of my leggings and tugged them down.

“Tell me how bad you want it, baby.” His fingers loosened just enough for me to speak.

“So bad. Need it. Need you.”

His eyes were roaming my body, eyes settling on the jet black panties I wore. His hand pressed flat against the fabric, making me hiss at the sensation.

“You want me to eat you? Devour you?”

I nodded frantically.

“If I do, I’m going to bite you. You alright with that?”

I froze, staring up at him, tears running down the side of my face. 

“You can say no.” His voice was smooth as honey, dripping down his lips and right into my soul.

“Please.” It came out as a breath, just the ghost of a word.

A harsh snarl left his lips, and he dropped onto the floor with lightening speed, pulling my leggings off and gripping the waistband of my underwear, ripping them apart to show my already soaked pussy.

His fingers slid through my lips before coming up to his mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste. “Fucking stunning.” He groaned.

His mouth attacked me, licking long, flat stripes up my core, causing my hips to buck. I whimpered, trying not to make too much noise.

His hands gripped my thighs and pulled me closer to the edge of the bed, bringing me right to his face.

“No one can hear us here, baby. Fucking scream for me.” 

I let go, letting all of the harsh, vile sounds leave my throat with no restraint. His mouth sucked hard on my clit, making my vision go stark white behind my eyelids.

“Oh my God, Noah, I’m going to come, please don’t stop.”

He latched harder, a finger penetrating into me, pressing against my sweet spot and smoothing circles into it, bringing me crashing over the edge of bliss. My back lifted off of the mattress, my entire body tingling.

At the exact second my orgasm slammed into me, I felt a stinging, slicing pain on the inside of my thigh, causing me to scream out and look down. Noah’s face was still buried between my legs, but his eyes were staring directly at me. His fingers continued to massage me through my euphoria while his lips pulled at the sore spot on my thigh. When he lifted his face, my body finally calming, a deep crimson fluid sat on his lip before his tongue came up and swiped it away. 

He rested a palm flat on my stomach as my breathing slowed. “Are you okay?”

I blinked back the tears and gasped in a breath. “More, please. I need more.”

It wasn’t even me speaking anymore. My body had transcended to another plane and I was watching from a different dimension at that point.

He smiled, his teeth tinged with blood - my blood. “What’s the magic word?”

“Jesus, fuck, Noah! Please!”

His hand snatched me by my waist, flipping me over and pulling me back up so my feet were on the floor. His arm held me up, as standing wasn’t an option with the way my legs felt like gelatin. I felt the warm fluid from the wound on my thigh dripping down my leg.

He paused, reaching for a drawer and grabbing, what I assumed to be, a condom. I heard the foil open and be discarded. He let go of me for ten seconds to put it on, and before I could think about anything else, he was pushing inside of me. The feeling was achingly delicious, the stretch and burn of it. Noah was exceptional. My body fell forward, hands reaching out balance. He thrusted mercilessly, pounding me harder into the mattress, his breathing loud and deep, guttural moans escaping him.

After a few moments, and my vision slowly blurring as I began climbing the hill once again, his hand wrapped around my neck and pulled me backward to stand straight up. I whined, leaning my head back on his chest.

It was without cause, but I still asked. “Bite me again? Please?”

I didn’t want it, I needed it. I was ravenous for the pain and the feeling of him being so connected with me. 

“Don’t say that.” His words were breathless, but I was persistent.

“Please, Noah. Please.”

“God damn it.” He tightened his grip on my neck and I felt his lips touch my skin before the fangs sung in deep, piercing the thin skin just above my clavicle.

A scream pierced through me as the pain sent white hot shock waves through my body, my vision cutting out and my orgasm tearing through me. I vibrated at the stimulation of it all, and began to feel by body going slack, my skin tingling with a numbing sensation. My eyelids began to feel heavy, Noah's lips still latched to my skin. I could swear I felt a sucking feeling. That would be one hell of a hickey later.

Noah's thrusts suddenly stilled, his throat growling against me, his fingers gripping my hip violently, surely leaving bruises.

I was still riding the high of my climax when I felt everything starting to go sideways as the room began to spin. His arm wrapped around me quickly as I felt my consciousness slipping.

"Easy, baby. Easy." I hadn't even noticed him slip out of me, or unlatch from my throat.

Suddenly, his hands were gentle, laying me down on the bed on my back. Through my hooded lids, I could see him standing, tall and muscular. I could see all of him, and as badly as I wanted to savor it, I was so sleepy.

His hands pulled a soft, red blanket over me, and he put a finger up. "One second, stay here."

He disappeared out of the door, and I felt my eyes threatening to close. My brain was shutting off quickly, and it wasn't going to be optional anymore.

He came back within a minute, now wearing shorts, with a large blue Powerade, and a pack of Reese's in his hands. He set them down on the mattress next to me and slid his arms under me, lifting me up onto the pillows of the bed.

"Maggie, you still with me?"

I could only mumble in response, the pull of sleep tugging me down.

"Don't fall asleep. You need to drink this." He opened the Powerade. My hand came up to take the drink, but my fingers had very little sensation. "Here." Noah used one arm to lift me partway, and held the bottle to my lips. "Just take sips."

Once I had sufficiently drank a quarter of the bottle, suddenly feeling parched, he recapped it and began tearing open the Reese's. "Eat this, you need to increase your blood sugar and carbohydrates."

Feeling slightly more coherent, I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why? Did that orgasm almost kill me?" I snickered, taking a peanut butter cup and peeling the wrap off the bottom.

"No, the orgasm didn't." He said pointedly, but made work of getting up and heading for the door again. I laid, slowly munching the chocolate, eyes trailing after him. I pulled the blanket up to my chin, feeling strikingly cold suddenly. I felt a numbness in my toes and fingertips. Something about it bothered me, but also didn't?

He walked back in, a damp rag in his hand. What did he need that for? He used a condom, I thought?

Noah sat next to me on the bed, and ran a hand over my cheek gently, giving me a small, comforting smile. "You feel better?"

I nodded, still chewing the second peanut butter cup. "Much."

His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Good, I'm glad."

Smoothing his hand over to my hair, he pulled it away from my neck, and pressed the damp rag to it. I winced, pain shooting up into my face.

"Christ!" He pulled his hand back, and I noticed the rag was a deep red. "Am I bleeding?"

He shushed me, moving my face back over. "Not much anymore, it's mostly stopped. This is just a little alcohol to sterilize it." He sighed as he pressed the rag to my skin. "Next, I'll clean up your leg."

My mind, suddenly clear as day, began running through all of the most ridiculous scenarios possible. Regardless of how stupid it sounded, I still had to ask...

"Noah?"

"Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow, pulling out a large bandage and unpeeling it from the paper.

"Are you an actual vampire?"

His hands stopped, and his neck snapped up at me. His eyes were deadly serious, but his lips twisted in a sick smile. "Now, why would you say something silly like that? Of course not."

"But-"

He chuckled, his body shaking, and continued applying the bandage to my neck, hand lingering on my cheek as he looked in my eyes.

"No, I'm just a guy with kinks, that's all."

Did I want to press this further?

I looked back up at him, and he smiled brightly. That's when I noticed.

"You took the fangs off."

He peered up at me, running his tongue over his teeth. "Yeah, something like that."

Noah began pulling the blanket from my leg when he stopped abruptly, his eyes shifting to the door of the room. His hand gripped my leg, and he spoke under his breath.

"Fuck." His eyes looked back at me, a panic now rising. "You have to go. Now."

He grabbed my arm, and began pulling me off of the bed gently. "Can you stand?" I heard the door of the bus open, and people speaking at the front.

The urgency in his voice was frightening, so I swung my legs over and attempted to stand. The room swayed slightly, but I managed to stay upright. I nodded at him.

"Good, okay," He stood off the bed, and ran to the other side, picking my clothes up and tossing them at me, sans my torn panties. "get dressed. I'm going to open the window, there's a ladder just outside. Climb down it and go. Fast. Go to your car, and leave."

I was stepping into my leggings and looked up at him. "I have to find Alex, first."

He huffed, frustrated, and helped me put my shirt over my head. "Don't. Just go."

Noah pulled the window open silently, and pulled me over to him once I had zipped up my sweatshirt and slipped my shoes on. "Noah, what-"

He pressed a hand to my mouth. "Please, just listen to me. Leave. Don't look for her. Just go. Fast, okay?"

My eyes welled up. The terror was back. Why was he hiding me? Was he embarrassed? Did he not want anyone to know I was here? Why didn't he want me to look for Alex?

He hands hoisted me up effortlessly, he didn't even groan when he lifted me to the window. I slipped a leg out, and turned my head to him. "Noah?"

He looked at me, eyes sparkling bright, brighter than I had seen. "Yes?"

"I hope to see you again."

The smallest smile turned his lips up. "If you're lucky, you won't."

-

Alex's phone wasn't picking up and she hadn't responded to any of my messages. Bring Me The Horizon's set was about over, and she was nowhere. Ice Nine's balcony was empty - they all were. She wasn't in the venue. She wasn't outside. She was gone.

Her last text to me had me walking behind the building, looking through the busses.

Alexa: Spencer invited me back to his bus with him and Ronnie...I can't believe this is real life!! I will text you when I'm done! ;)

I only knew which bus was Noah's, but I felt like an absolute creep looking through the others, trying to see into the windows. I was standing next to one, on my tip-toes, trying to see through the tint, when my ears picked up on something...

It sounded suspiciously like screaming...but not the kind I would expect from someone having a good time. Not the kind I just made.

I rounded the corner, finding one last bus, and noticed it appeared to be moving. This had to be it. As I approached, figuring I would just wait until she was done, it stilled, and the night went eerily silent. Something about it made my stomach drop. I considered going back and getting Noah, asking him to check it out, but I had already come to terms with the fact that whatever that was, was over.

Instead, I made a soft wrap on the door, hoping someone would answer. Nothing came, no sound or motion. I sighed. Someone was definitely in there. Maybe they fell asleep? I almost did.

I knocked harder with the same result. Eventually, I pounded, hollering. "Hello?"

My fingers reached for the handle, and I noticed the door was unlocked, the door opening easily. I looked in, and noticed it was dark, only a neon blue light emanating from the back somewhere. I stepped up the staircase, peering my head around the corner.

"Alex?"

What my eyes saw, I was nowhere near prepared for. My eyes met hers, only hers were upside down, head hanging off of the edge of the bed, tears running down the sides of her face. They were also lifeless, and so was she. She was laid on the bed, fully dressed, and blood poured from her throat and pooled on the floor. There were two men on top of her, mouths latched to her chest and throat.

I couldn't help the gasp that came out, my eyes watering at the scene. I brought my hand up over my mouth and both men looked up at me. I couldn't register what I was seeing...

Spencer Charnas and Ronnie Radke were on top of my best friend, and their faces were absolutely covered in her blood.

Their fangs shined, covered in the red viscous liquid, and harsh growling hisses came out of their mouths.

Before I could scream, a hand had grabbed the back of my sweatshirt and pulled me down the stairs, and was dragging me away from the bus. I thrashed, screaming and fighting against the person pulling me away.

"No! No! Please! Stop, please!!" A hand came up over my mouth.

"Shut up!" My eyes looked down, and through my bleary tears, I saw the tattoos. The familiar tattoos.

Noah pulled me over to another bus and pressed me against the side. He loomed over me, his eyes dark again, all of the light gone.

"I told you to fucking leave!"

I couldn't speak. I was stunned. "I...they...Alex..."

"Alex is gone." He was so matter of fact. Stern, even. A choked sob broke out of my chest.

"No, no please, you have to help me."

"I am helping you! You have to leave! Before anyone realizes you did." His hands were against the bus on either side of me. "Please Maggie, please just leave."

"Noah..." I stared at the sharp fangs. "Your teeth..."

He hung his head. "Maggie, listen to me. You were never here. You lost Alex at the concert, and she went missing. They already reported her missing to security." My eyes went wide, tears streaming. "Now, go home. Stay there. And never speak about this again. Understood?"

I didn't respond, I just glared at him. He was one of them. A monster. He drank my blood. He tried to kill me. Him and his friends...they killed Alex.

When I didn't answer, he grew impatient, slamming his hands against the bus, making me flinch.

"God damn it Maggie, do you understand?!"

I just nodded, and he let one of his arms fall. I slipped by him, but his hand caught my arm. I stopped, staring up at him.

"I'm so sorry." His eyes were soft again, but I ripped my arm from him. He looked taken back by my sudden brazenness.

"No you're not..." I took several steps forward, but I took a deep breath and stopped, turning to see him still staring at me.

"But you fucking will be."

[runariya]

Drive to Survive (JJK) • Chapter 4 “Call Me Baby”

pairing: F1driver!Jungkook x female race engineer!reader genre: colleagues2L, formula1!AU, racing!AU, drama, kind of fantasy/cyborg!AU fic rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: hangover after heavy drinking, cursing, Trish is a B, MC is in denial it's sad, jealous Jungkook, sweaty Jungkook, conflicts, they're both a mess word count: ~5.860

🎵 DJ ROOTS feat. CAMO, Jung Jinhyeong - BABY 🎵

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to the sport of Formula 1 are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

01 • 02 • 03 • series masterlist • 05

The harsh bathroom light sears every nerve from your eyes to your brain. The noise of rummaging through your cosmetic bag for painkillers echoes painfully loud inside your skull. Your throat parched and stomach queasy, you feel on the brink of vomiting, the acrid taste of last night's alcohol lingering like regret on your tongue.

You never imagined you'd find yourself in this state, insisting you could handle your drinks to Jungkook, when in reality, you've always been a lightweight. Parties were never your scene; even at family gatherings or scholar celebrations, you barely sipped champagne before calling it quits.

But Jungkook being his annoying self, you just couldn’t admit that you never really drank. Admitting it after insulting him felt unfitting. Now, you wish you could turn back time and be your boring self, instead of showing him firsthand what a liar you were.

Oh god, the thought of what you did to both him and Mingyu embarrasses you so deeply that you could cry. The idea of facing either of them without cringing internally seems impossible.

Finally locating the painkillers, you swallow two dry, unwilling to risk upsetting your stomach further with water. After brushing your teeth twice, you repeat the process three more times after your shower for good measure.

Feeling somewhat human again and able to face race day, you check your phone for the time. Thankfully, you had the foresight to set an alarm for noon before the alcohol took over, knowing the team's pre-race briefings and preparations start soon.

Since Jungkook had asked you to fetch him for the track, you knock on his hotel room door at the end of your floor shortly after. Instead of Jungkook, Trish opens the door in her sports gear, not surprising considering her role as his personal trainer and physical therapist—a necessity for peak physical condition, especially before a race.

What does surprise you is Jungkook emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist. You ignore Trish's smug look, focusing only on Jungkook's stunned expression, eyes as wide as yours as he halts his movements. Memories of catching them flirt in the past flash through your mind, but you never expected this. Naively thinking a dedicated professional like him would get sidetracked.

Your initial shock turns to disgust, then settles into a hangover-induced indifference which doesn’t waste your remaining energy. Jungkook reacts swiftly, hurrying to his closet without turning back.

"Trish, I'll need you pre-race this evening; until then, you're free," he says, his tone brisk and business-like as he moves with lightning speed..

Trish shoots you a death glare, a reaction you've grown accustomed to ignoring. The painkillers aren't doing much, and you're too drained to expend any energy on her or his antics.

"Sure, bye Jungkook," Trish replies in a falsely cheery voice that grates on your ears like nails on a chalkboard. It's a sound you never minded before, but today, under the weight of your hangover, it's too much to bear.

Jungkook steps towards you, his shirt not quite yet fully on, giving you a peek of his abs. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

You’re impressed by his speed in getting dressed but say nothing as you turn around and walk down the corridor, Jungkook falling into step beside you. His presence is both comforting and a bit unnerving, considering last night’s events.

“Are we going to speak about the night before?” Jungkook smirks, his voice tinged with playful curiosity.

“About me, no. About Mingyu, yes.” You say curtly. “We were right, something’s fishy about him.”

Jungkook watches you expectantly, his interest piqued. 

“When I touched his neck, I could feel something metallic. He said it was his necklace, but it didn’t feel like it. It was too wide for that. And his thigh also felt strangely firm,” you explain, your voice steady but low.

“So that’s why you wanted to touch my thigh that bad,” Jungkook realises, his face falling a bit.

You send him a sharp side-eye, not wanting to entertain memories of your drunken behaviour. His comment doesn’t sit well with your pounding headache and the knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach.

As you step outside, the heat hits you like a wall. The sun is merciless, blinding you momentarily. You fumble in your purse for your sunglasses, feeling the full force of your hangover returning. The sweltering humidity wraps around you, amplifying your discomfort. Fortunately, the paddock is only a few steps away, your hotel situated conveniently in the heart of the track.

"It'll be best to keep our assumptions about Mingyu between us until we gather enough evidence that something's off."

Jungkook hums in agreement, but after a short silence, not respecting your boundaries as usual, he starts. „You know, you looked kinda jealous back there.“ 

You’re not sure where this question comes from and why he likes to turn every conversation of yours around without warning. After yesterday, when you crossed the line left and right, you can’t blame him for his boldness. His question hangs in the air, a challenge you’re not ready to face. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for a reaction.

„Of who? Trash? TRISH! I mean Trish.“ Your voice trails off. Could this day be any worse?

„So you were jealous of her being in my room.“ The smile he sends you is brighter than the sun burning down on you. „You’re wondering if we fuck, aren’t you?“

„Ewww, no. Why would I?“ You scrunch your nose in disgust. „You’d basically be sleeping with a prostitute if that were the case.“

„Why are you disgusted? She’s not a prostitute. I bet you’d want a piece of this.“ He thrusts his hips playfully.

„First, again, ew. Second ,could you please stop obsessing over me? And third, even if your physiotherapist is a 50-year-old hairy man named Barry, it would still be prostitution.“

„What? No, why?“ He looks genuinely shocked.

„Because you’re paying her, Jungkook.“ You sigh, wondering why he can’t see the point.

„I’m paying you too, so it’s no different.“ 

„No, the team’s paying me because I’m their employee as much as you are. We’re basically colleagues. But she’s employed by you. It’s you who’s paying her to do god knows what.“ You try to reason.

„So you’re saying you’re not into boss-employee roleplay but into forbidden love affairs between colleagues?“ 

„I’m into these data I’m carrying with me. And I’m absolutely into you…“ You stop to face each other, patting his chest firmly which feels solid under your palm, the heat radiating from his shirt. „…into you winning this race so you stop being a little shit and start seeing me as a necessity for your career, not your fantasies.“

„So you do like me, at least.“ He beams, as you shake your head incredulously and start walking again. Just to rile him up a bit more, you say loudly, not looking back “Not the point, JK. You aren’t my type.” 

„WAIT! What’s your type?“ Jungkook calls out behind you, but his question hangs in the air as you step into the meeting room, leaving him without an answer.

The unbearable heat clings to everything, even though it's evening. The Singapore track feels more like an oven. Despite the oppressive humidity, the crowd's energy is electric, cheering and full of anticipation as the drivers get ready. Jungkook, focused and determined, slips into his car in his black driver’s gear, the familiar routine calming your nerves.

"Radio check, Jungkook," you say, your voice steady despite the anxious flutter in your chest. "Make sure to tell me if the heat gets to you."

"Copy that," Jungkook responds, his voice crackling through the radio. "I'll keep you posted."

The formation lap goes smoothly, with Jungkook settling into his position at P2, just behind Mingyu on pole, with George at P3. As the cars line up, the tension in the air is palpable, and the lights go out, signalling the start of the race.

The first half of the race is a tough battle. Jungkook and Mingyu fight relentlessly for the first position, their cars almost touching at times. The narrow track and sharp corners lead to multiple crashes, and the safety car slows down the race three times. Each restart brings a fresh wave of excitement, but also a gnawing fear of more accidents. The harsh artificial lighting casts long shadows on the uneven track, making every lap a challenge.

"Jungkook, how are you holding up?" you ask through the radio as the race nears the halfway mark. The sweltering heat and relentless pace are taking their toll on everyone.

"I'm starting to feel it," Jungkook admits, his voice strained. "The humidity and heat... it's rough."

"Remember to drink," you instruct, your own sweat tingling down your back even though you’re only sitting at the pit wall. "Take deep breaths. Let's do some breathing exercises."

Jungkook follows your lead, and you guide him through a series of deep, calming breaths. The brief moment of respite seems to help, but as he pushes closer to Mingyu, his aggression increases. You can hear the tension in his voice as he curses and see it in his driving.

"Don't push too hard," you warn him. "We can't afford a crash. Stay focused."

The race's brutal conditions continue to take their toll. The uneven track and glaring lights make it a test of endurance as much as skill. You can sense Jungkook's frustration and exhaustion, and the data shows heavy tyre degradation.

"Jungkook, pit this lap," you command. "Your tyres are short. Be careful with the pit lane entry."

Jungkook protests, his voice interrupted by rapid breathing through the radio, "I can stay out a bit longer. I can push." 

But you insist, your tone firm and unwavering, "Jungkook, you need to pit now. Trust me on this."

"Copy," Jungkook replies reluctantly, guiding his car into the pit lane with precision. The pit stop is clean, a well-oiled machine of teamwork, and Jungkook retains his position.

As the race enters its final lap, over two hours since the start, Jungkook makes a daring attempt to overtake Mingyu. But just as he closes in, Mingyu seems to flip a switch, pulling away with inhuman speed and precision. The checkered flag falls, and Jungkook crosses the line in second place, a respectable finish given the conditions.

Jungkook staggers out of his car, every step a testament to the gruelling battle he has just endured. With a trembling hand, he removes his helmet, revealing flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Sweat pours off him in rivulets, soaking through his racing suit and plastering his hair to his forehead. His face, usually so composed and confident, is now a mask of sheer exhaustion, etched with the strain of the race. He sinks to the ground beside his car, his body sagging against the tyres as he heaves for air, each breath coming in laboured gasps. The team quickly surrounds him, offering words of congratulations, clapping him on the back and shoulders, their voices a murmur of encouragement in the otherwise noisy paddock. Despite their enthusiasm, it's clear that Jungkook is too drained to fully register their praise, his focus entirely on regaining his breath.

You spring up from the pit wall, heart pounding with a mix of relief, that he didn’t crash in one of the most challenging tracks, and worry about his condition. Clutching a mini fan and a water bottle, you weave through the throng of people, your only thought to reach Jungkook. As you approach, you see the weariness etched into every line of his body, the toll of the race evident in the way he slumps against his car. Squatting down in front of him, you offer him the water while pointing the fan into his face, your movements gentle and careful. Jungkook takes the water bottle with a nod of gratitude, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he tilts his head back to drink. The cool water seems to revive him slightly, his shoulders relaxing a fraction as the liquid soothes his parched throat. His eyes, filled with deep gratitude, convey a silent thank you as he gulps down the water. You hold the fan closer, the soft whirring noise a comforting background to the chaotic sounds of the paddock. For a moment, it's just the two of you, a quiet island of calm in the midst of the bustling team.

It’s Wednesday after the intense Singapore race, and you find yourself back at the Mercedes headquarters. The familiar surroundings and mild climate offer a much needed reprieve from the recent weekend. You’re thankful that the media didn’t capture any candid photographs of your drunken state. However, more and more articles have begun to speculating about Mingyu, despite his newcomer status in the Formula 1 scene. He’s already proving to be a polarising figure, drawing both admiration and criticism alike.

You’re chatting with George in the corridor leading to your office, sharing a laugh about the sweltering heat of the last race and his commendable fourth-place finish. Suddenly, Jungkook strides over, a frown etched on his face. 

“Why do I always see you flirting with others and not working?” Jungkook's voice cuts through the conversation like a knife.

You turn to him, irritation bubbling up. “Let me breathe,” you reply, perplexed by his accusation. Flirting? The very idea is absurd. You’ve never flirted with anyone at work, least of all with George. If you'd ever flirted with someone, it was with Jungkook and Mingyu when you were drunk, which, in your opinion, doesn’t count. Your discussion had been purely professional.

George, equally perplexed and visibly annoyed, steps in to defend you. “That’s not nice, Jungkook.”

But Jungkook, taking it personally, barks back at George, “What? It’s true!”

“It’s not,” you argue simultaneously with George, who adds, “You’re the biggest hypocrite in this building. Talk to you later, ___.” With a shake of his head, George turns and walks away, leaving you to deal with Jungkook’s irrationality.

George calling Jungkook a hypocrite strikes you as true. You’re sick of seeing him flirt with everyone, a behaviour that’s become painfully obvious over time. It baffles you how such a talented driver, admired by millions, constantly seeks artificial validation from the women around him. The disparity between his public persona and his private neediness repulses you a bit, making it hard to reconcile the two images of him in your mind.

“What’s your problem?” you demand, turning fully to face Jungkook, your anger causing you to step closer.

“There’s no problem,” he retorts, looking down at you, unyielding.

You feel your frustration rising, pushing you to get into his face. “Of course there is. What’s with you?”

Jungkook’s tone turns taunting, “Why are you talking to him?”

You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Why wouldn’t I? He’s our colleague!”

“You’re my race engineer!” Jungkook nearly shouts, his voice echoing through the hall as he points to his chest. 

Matching his volume, you counter pointing in the direction of where George disappeared, “And his is Joongki, so what’s your point?” The silence that follows confirms what you already suspected: Jungkook is being entirely unreasonable. He’s not capable of having a normal conversation with you right now. “You’re unbelievable, Jungkook, truly. Don’t talk to me until you can speak to me like a normal person.”

You turn to head back to your office, needing to distance yourself from his erratic behaviour. Just as you’re about to leave, Jungkook calls after you, “I never slept with her!”

His words make you pause. They shouldn’t cause the wave of relief that surges through you, but they do. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. Despite the satisfaction you feel from his revelation, you know you need to maintain your distance. The last few days have taken you into dangerous territory, and this conversation, along with his unreasonable mood swings, is testament to it. Without turning back, you give the only response you can muster. 

“I don’t care.”

The week continues in a tight dance between maintaining a professional distance and befriending Jungkook, the fight of last week forgiven but not forgotten. You’re torn between setting boundaries as sturdy as possible and letting him get near, something that’s inevitable and necessary as his race engineer. Hours working together and the trust and friendship needed between you not leaving much room for being distant for a long period of time. So when the second week in Brackley arrives and there’s only four days to the next race weekend this time in Monaco, you find yourself with Jungkook in the briefing room discussing the coming weekend.

“It’s looking clear on Saturday and Sunday, Friday a little bit of rain, but I’m not convinced of the weather forecast,” you report, studying the weather data on the screen.

“Hm, I need to nail the qualifying regardless of the weather. I won’t be able to overtake much on this track,” Jungkook responds, his gaze serious as he contemplates the upcoming challenges, swivelling in his seat left to right. 

“Yeah…I’ve been calling some contacts of mine.” You change the topic now that all is set, playing with your pen while seated across from Jungkook. His eyes bore into yours, waiting for your next move.

“I’m trying to get the telemetry data for Mingyu’s heart rate and performance data for potential anomalies during the last race.” you explain, noticing Jungkook’s concern flicker across his face.

Jungkook nods thoughtfully. “Make sure this stays undetected and we stay safe.”

You reassure him with a small smile. “Don’t worry, I know how to navigate these waters discreetly.”

Just then, a knock on the door interrupts your discussion. A tall, buff man with light brown hair and trainers enters the room. You’re momentarily caught off guard by his presence and find yourself subtly mesmerised by his appearance. He walks further into the room, standing tall before the table, “Hey, I’m Kim Namjoon. Jungkook’s new personal trainer and physiotherapist.” Jungkook looks visibly annoyed at your reaction. 

Gathering yourself enough to extend your hand to shake Namjoon’s, you introduce yourself airily. His hand is big and warm, his demeanour welcoming despite Jungkook’s evident displeasure. Namjoon then turns to Jungkook unfazed “You ready for your training session?”

Interrupting Namjoon, you turn to Jungkook with curiosity. “Wait, where’s Trish?”

Jungkook grumbles in response, “I fired her.”

Your features light up with surprise, momentarily betraying your intrigue. You turn to Namjoon, your smile bright like a tree on Christmas. 

“Namjoon, could you please wait outside for a second? I need to talk to her in private.” Jungkook says with barely concealed hostility.

“Sure, no problem.” Namjoon replies, sending you a dimpled smile as he exits the room.

As soon as the door closes behind Namjoon, Jungkook whisper-shouts at you, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Oh, let me live. He’s a snack.” you remark casually, rolling your eyes as you gather your things with a smirk.

“And I’m a five-star Michelin. Eyes up here, dwarf,” Jungkook retorts sharply, pointing to his face.

“Pardon?” You look up at Jungkook, taken aback by the insult he has used since day one.

“You heard me. Stop flirting with my physio!” Jungkook gestures towards the closed door as you both round the table, now standing before each other, closer than colleagues normally would.

“I didn’t even say anything to him! And five-star? You can only achieve three, genius,” you tease lightly, a grin playing on your lips as your eyes meet his.

“Not the point, ___,” Jungkook groans, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

“But he’s cute,” you playfully pout with a sweet voice.

Jungkook pushes his tongue against his cheek in annoyance, not seeing the fun in your conversation.

“Okay, okay. I’ll behave, pinky promise,” you concede half-heartedly.

“Where’s your pinky?!” Jungkook hisses, clearly exasperated.

“Oh, you’re for real? I should really stop flirting with him?” you ask with genuine surprise, tinged with a hint of sadness.

Jungkook’s glare sends shivers down your spine. Reluctantly, you hold out your pinky to Jungkook.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises you, causing you to blush furiously as he starts teasing again. “Oh, you’re into praise now?” It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease you again, his eyes lighting up as yours did minutes ago. 

“I’m so done with you, it’s not even funny anymore.” You grumble as you walk to the door.

“What? No need to be pissed now. I just made it clear that he’s mine and you’re mine…”

Interrupting Jungkook, you seize the opportunity to turn the tables yet again. “Yours now, you say?”

Jungkook turns red, his face and ears lighting up like neon signs in the dark. Your laughter echoes through the room as you reach for the door handle. “So you’re the possessive kind. Oh, this day is gold.”

As you walk out the door, you bid Namjoon a quick goodbye in passing. Sensing his gaze on your back, it’s Jungkook’s angry and hushed voice behind you that confirms what you assumed.

“Stop staring at her ass or you’re fired.”

You sit pensively in front of the pit wall in Monaco beside Joongki, the lingering rain from Friday's training session still a fresh memory. Despite the weather's unpredictability, your strategic tyre choice for Saturday's qualifying paid off remarkably well. Just like in Singapore, Mingyu's performance surpassed expectations, effortlessly outpacing Jungkook's best time by a significant margin, securing pole position while Jungkook settled again for P2. 

You spent the entirety of last night navigating the delicate balance of calming Jungkook's frustrations and ensuring fair play regarding Mingyu's achievements until you find clear evidence against him. You tried to reason with Jungkook, also urging him not to get sidetracked by Mingyu and to stay focused on himself, especially during the race.

This morning, amidst the usual pre-race bustle, you managed to obtain Mingyu's telemetry data, a critical piece for understanding his performance. However, your primary focus remained on Jungkook, keeping him cantered and motivated amid the mounting pressure. Despite the distractions, you made a mental note to review Mingyu's data thoroughly back at headquarters to uncover any insights that could confirm your suspicion about him. The responsibility weighs heavily on you as Jungkook’s race engineer, balancing technical analysis with the delicate task of managing Jungkook's competitive spirit.

In a quiet moment before any preparations started, your curiosity led you to sneak into the RedBull paddock, where you noticed something peculiar about Mingyu's racing gear. Hidden metallic knobs on the inside of his suit's back caught your attention, prompting you to discreetly snap photos with your phone. The implications of such modifications could be significant, potentially raising questions about regulatory compliance. 

Just as you neared some more equipment, someone suddenly approached, forcing you to quickly and quietly make your exit. You found it frustrating because you were certain there was more potential evidence to uncover. Regardless, you surprisingly discovered that running silently in heels was actually possible—something you never thought could be done, but you proved yourself wrong.

Amidst the buzz of the race day morning, you reflect on the meticulous planning and unforeseen discoveries that define your role by now. The intense rivalry between Jungkook and Mingyu fuels the atmosphere, requiring not just technical prowess but also astute observation and strategic manoeuvring. With Mingyu unexpectedly claiming pole position, the stakes are higher than ever, especially since a win for Mingyu today would mean he’ll surpass Jungkook in points. This demands your full attention and expertise. As you glance over Mingyu's telemetry data and the photos of his modified racing gear on your phone, you brace yourself for a day of strategic decisions and calculated risks, knowing that each move could tip the scales in favour of Jungkook's success or unravel amidst the fierce competition.

"Radio check." Jungkook's voice echoes in your ears, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you look up to the screen, which shows that the formation lap has already started.

"That's my line!" You joke, but deep down, you're grateful that Jungkook has woken you from your thoughts.

"Thought we'd try something new." He laughs lightheartedly back, settling into P2 as one by one, the cars line up for the Grand Prix of Monaco.

"Jungkook, stay sharp at the start. Remember, turn one can be chaotic. Lights out in five, four, three, …" Your voice crackles through the radio as Jungkook's car roars off the grid. The narrow streets of Monaco funnel the pack into a tight formation. Jungkook is right behind Mingyu, hugging the inside line, the screech of tyres echoes through the city.

Your attention is divided between Jungkook and Mingyu. There's something about Mingyu that always seems a bit off—his performance is almost too perfect. "Stay sharp and close to Mingyu," you advise Jungkook, watching as they both head into the tight Sainte Dévote turn. Mingyu's car glides through with a precision that raises your suspicions. The narrow streets and close barriers of Monaco heighten the tension, but Jungkook is managing well, matching Mingyu's pace. As they approach Mirabeau, you can’t help but notice how Mingyu seems to pull away with an ease that feels unnatural, fuelling your doubts.

"Clean start, Jungkook. Focus on warming up those tyres. Next is the climb to Massenet. Remember, it's all about rhythm here."

"Got it," Jungkook responds, his voice steady and focused.

At lap ten, Jungkook navigates the descent carefully, deftly manoeuvring through the narrow streets. The barriers seem to close in this time, but he threads the needle with precision. 

"Great job through Casino Square, best one this race so far. Keep it tidy through Mirabeau. There's debris on the track, watch for it."

"Copy that. The car feels good," Jungkook replies, his confidence evident.

As Jungkook navigates turns 5 to 7, tackling one of the slowest corners in F1, you seize the moment to praise him, aiming to keep his spirits high even in the early stages of the race.

"Nice and smooth through the Grand Hotel Hairpin. Good work. Watch your exit at Portier, it's critical for the tunnel."

"Got it," Jungkook affirms.

As Jungkook enters the tunnel, the car's sound changes, a low thunder reverberating against the walls. Emerging into the blinding sunlight at the Nouvelle Chicane, he hits the brakes hard, downshifting rapidly while maximising the exit speed through the left-right chicane. 

"Beautiful through the chicane. Now keep it clean through Tabac and prepare for the swimming pool section."

"Understood. I'm on it," Jungkook confirms.

Mid-race, a tense moment unfolds as Charles Leclerc of Ferrari and Valtteri Bottas of Alfa Romeo get too close, leading Valtteri to hit the barrier in a tight corner. The impact ruins his car, forcing him to drop out of the race. From the chatter on the Alfa Romeo radio, you quickly gather that his race is over.

"Yellow flag, sector two. There's been an incident at the swimming pool. No overtaking until it's clear."

Jungkook's pace steadies as he approaches the caution zone. Marshals wave flags, signalling the caution.

"Slow down and be ready to stop if needed. Once you're clear, push again."

"Will do. I see the flags," Jungkook acknowledges.

The wreckage of Alpha Romeo is cleared quickly, and the track returns to green.

"Green flag, go, go, go! You're clear."

Some laps pass when Jungkook dives into the pits as you call, "Box, box, box!" The team swarms the car, changing tires with lightning speed.

"Good stop. You're back out in clean air. Push now, this is your chance."

"I'm on it. Let's make this count," Jungkook says with determination.

Mingyu exits the pits just as Jungkook flies by, a perfect undercut.

"You're in the lead! Great job. Now let's manage the pace and protect those tyres."

"Yes! I'll keep it smooth," Jungkook replies, a hint of excitement in his voice.

On lap 25, you receive word from the engineers stationed at HQ in Brackley that rain is on its way.

"Weather update: slight chance of rain in the next 15 minutes. Stay focused and let us know if you see drops."

The tension builds as dark clouds gather over the Mediterranean. Jungkook's visor reflects the changing light as he continues to push.

"Will do. I'll keep you posted," Jungkook assures.

The rain reports come in, and you prepare for the inevitable pit stop, but you keep a close eye on Mingyu's performance. "Rain reported at the back of the circuit. How's the grip?"

"Starting to get slick in a few spots," Jungkook replies.

"Copy that. Be prepared to switch to intermediates if it gets worse."

The first drops hit the circuit, making the already treacherous streets even more perilous. Soon the drops start falling quicker, but not quite poring yet, you notice Mingyu's car handling the slick conditions with an almost uncanny stability. Despite the worsening weather, Mingyu’s pace doesn’t falter, making you wonder if there’s something more to his setup. Every lap, as the rain intensifies, your suspicion grows, but you focus on guiding Jungkook through the treacherous conditions.

"Box for inters, box for inters," you call.

Jungkook pits smoothly, the team executing a flawless tyre change.

"Good stop. Now careful on the out-lap. Conditions are tricky."

Jungkook's car skates slightly as he exits the pits, but he controls it expertly, finding the grip. "Got it. I'll take it easy," Jungkook says.

"How are the tyres now?" you ask.

"Feels good. Better grip now," Jungkook responds, his voice calm.

"Excellent. Mingyu is close behind, try to extend the gap."

As Jungkook pushes his car to its limits in the intensifying rain, you watch with heightened alertness, poised to make split-second decisions as needed.

"Rain is getting heavier. Stay focused. You're doing amazing."

It’s three laps later when the visibility drops as the rain intensifies even more, but Jungkook's precision remains unmatched. He navigates the treacherous turns with skill, maintaining his lead.

"You're handling this perfectly. Keep it up."

"Thanks, babe. Staying sharp," Jungkook replies.

There’s a momentary silence that stretches across the whole team, only interrupted by a few giggles. You’re taken off guard by the pet name Jungkook throws your way, more than sure it was an accident. The only response needed is something that’ll keep the media off your back. So, comparing yourself to the little pig named Babe comes to mind. 

“I told you to stop calling me that pig. I’m not that short.” You force a laugh through the radio, hoping Jungkook catches the wink.

“Not going to happen, oink oink,” you hear Jungkook cringe in his voice.

It hurts listening to this conversation, and you mentally face-palm yourself. This will be the talk of the whole paddock and the media.

Nearing the end of the race, there’s another incident. This time, it’s Lando Norris of McLaren who touches the barriers. Despite the contact, Lando manages to keep driving slowly, and from the chatter on the McLaren radio, you gather that he'll be able to continue.

"Full course yellow. Safety car deployed. Slow down and maintain position."

A collective breath is held as the safety car gathers the field. 

"Okay, safety car is in this lap. Get ready for the restart."

"Ready. Let's do this," Jungkook responds, his hands steady on the wheel. 

"Green flag. Go, go, go!"

Jungkook accelerates smoothly, pulling away from the pack. The rain continues to fall, but he keeps control, dancing through the puddles.

"Perfect restart. Gap to P2 is 2.1 seconds."

"Got it. I'll keep pushing," Jungkook affirms.

"Five laps to go. Keep it steady, Jungkook. You're almost there."

The rain eases slightly, but the track remains wet. Jungkook's concentration never wavers. "Just bring it home now."

"Understood. Almost there," Jungkook replies.

"Three laps. Gap is stable. Don't take any risks."

Jungkook's car glides through the final turns, the roar of the crowd growing louder.

"Got it. Staying cautious," Jungkook confirms.

As Jungkook enters the final lap, you find yourself perched on the edge of your stool, nerves taut with anticipation. "Final lap. You’ve got this."

As the final lap begins, the tension is at its peak. Jungkook leads, driving with the same precision and focus he’s shown all race, but Mingyu is right on his tail, a constant, unnerving presence. Your suspicions are confirmed when, in an almost superhuman move, Mingyu dives into the tight Rascasse turn with a speed and control that defy belief, overtaking Jungkook with a maneuver that seems impossible.

"What the... How did he do that?" Jungkook exclaims, livid, while you and the team look on with open jaws. 

"Stay calm, Jungkook. Focus on maintaining position. Don’t ruin the car," you urge, trying to keep his mind in the game. It would be catastrophic if Jungkook were to crash his car in the final lap due to his anger-induced lapse in concentration.

Jungkook pushes hard, but Mingyu's car is now in front. He navigates the remaining turns with impeccable skill, but there's no chance to retake the lead.

As Jungkook crosses the finish line in second place, the team cheers for the podium finish despite the shock of the last-minute overtake.

"Jungkook, incredible drive. P2. We still made the podium," you say, concealing your own dropping miss with pride in your voice.

"Thanks, team. That was unreal. We'll get him next time," Jungkook replies, his voice dripping with irritation.

"Absolutely. Great job out there. We'll celebrate this one and come back stronger."

The crowd's cheers blend with the sound of the engine as Jungkook takes his cool-down lap. 

As you navigate the bustling paddock after the award ceremony, your mind already drifting towards the upcoming debriefing with the team, a reporter intercepts your path. He insists on an interview, thrusting a microphone towards you with an air of urgency. Knowing that declining on live camera could escalate matters, you reluctantly agree. Keeping your composure, you suppress the nerves threatening to rise within you and prepare to face the inevitable scrutiny of the media.

 "So, during the race, there was a moment where Jungkook called you 'babe' over the radio. Can you shed some light on that?"

"Ah, yes, Jungkook often uses playful nicknames for all of us on the team. It’s his way of keeping things light and maintaining the good mood under pressure. There’s really nothing more to it than that."

"But some spectators and fans are speculating if there might be something romantic brewing between you two. What would you say to that?"

You stay polite, your media smile in place, "Oh, you know how rumours can spread. Jungkook and I have a great professional relationship, focused entirely on our work here in Formula 1. The only love story I’m interested in at the moment is the one with my data." You gesture towards your tablet in your hand with a light chuckle only reserved for situations like this. 

As you thank the reporter and head towards the debriefing area, you catch sight of Jungkook caught up in his own interview. He nervously scratches his neck, laughing and stealing glances in your direction. Under your breath, you mutter, "Fucking idiot."

01 • 02 • 03 • series masterlist • 05

a/n 2: lmk what you think in any way you like! please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @jksusawife

[thatwritterbeach]

So about that alley .9

Jason Todd x ofc Alex

Dc masterlist

Summary: Alex finds out her bf is red hood, after she spills some not so great secrets to the masked man while stitching him up.

Warnings: vaginismus, mentions of puke, angst duh, eating disorder, self harm, Jason 'forces' her to quit her job so he can better help her

A/N: I do not own dc boohoo. none edited this story is running away and i dont kniw what to do with it please send a dog catcher

"Baby, sweets," came his groggy voice from the bed before he registered what she was doing and he was behind her grabbing her hair.

The shame that overtook her when she woke up was enough to have her rushing to the bathroom to empty her stomach. Not only was she a freak for using the blade he'd given her, she was the freak who couldn't get off without her boyfriend putting on a mask. (never mind that she'd never had an hour of stimulation and over twenty minutes of a vibrator on her but in this state she couldn't think)

"Sorry, so not sexy," she said into the bowl. He laughed and handed her a washcloth for her mouth then used the hair tie from the sink to put her hair into the worst bun he'd ever seen. She brushed her teeth and pitched her toothbrush into the trash and turned to him with a light smile. He returned it lifting her up on the sink to wrap his arms around her.

"Feeling better?"

"Much."

"You getting sick or..."

"Would you be mad if I said it was nerves?"

"Nothing you do or say could make me mad. What's got you nervous?" His little head tilt cute enough to kill brain cells.

"You...I feel-I'm sorry, my head's not awake yet. Just awake enough for a panic induced pukey session," she mumbled rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Pukey?"

"I don't like the word *vomit*," she explained on a whisper. He nodded like it made all the sense in the world and filed that info away for later.

"Well do you want to go home and take a bathey?"

She snorted at his word choice and thunked her head into his chest, his arms coming up to wrap around her tighter.

"Yes I would love a bathey," she said into his bare chest. He gently eased her head up so he could spin around and offer her a piggy back ride.

"I'm too heavy-"

"Bullshit," he growled spinning faster than she could blink and caging her in," you're the most beautiful fucking thing on this planet and I won't let you think anything less if it's the last thing I do," he stated using a touch too much force to hold her jaw and force eye contact. He could feel her jaw tick like she was about to give him an ear full for the man handling but she surprised him by melting into the touch and closing her eyes.

"That was hot," she laughed at herself. His grip slackened and slid to her throat but she shook her head. "Not into that, big boy, sorry." His hand jerked back like she'd burned him and he held her waist instead.

"Sorry-"

"Dude, chill, this is how we learn, by talking. If I do something you don't like, tell me. I'm cool with the jaw, just no throat. Really I meant you getting all fired up about my self-esteem, that was hot."

It didn't take long to pack up and head out, making it back to her apartment. Jason ran her a bath with bubbles and candles and set up a small single step stool for himself to sit on. She eased into the hot water with a one piece swim suit on and he sat on his little stool and opening a book.

(good heavens where should this thing go??)

"You still need to show me your blade," he said with forced ease.

"Jason."

"Yes, love?"

"If I tell you something you have to promise not to beat yourself up over it."

"I promise." With his fingers crossed behind his back

"I've been using the knife you gave me. Not intentionally, it's just such a good knife, and-"

"The pocket knife with the replaceable razor blades?"

"Yes, but I'm careful-"

"Alex, what the fuck! Those are sharp as hell, you could, fucking shit, you could hit bone without much force. Shit babe." The first sentence was nearly yelled but the rest was a forced average tone and she sank into the water on instinct when he stood up and towered over her.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered closing her eyes. He tossed his book aside and scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair multiple times muttering fuck fuck fuck again and again.

"One slip up and-fuck you could..." Her eyes were watering but she wasn't going to let herself cry.

"Jay, I'm sorry, I'll give it back-"

"You're on 24 hour watch. You're quitting your job and we are going to Bludhaven to stay with Dick. He can watch you when I'm out and we'll switch."

"Jason-"

"No, this is not up for debate. I let you go hoping you would come to me, and I know addiction is shit and is hard and I didn't want you to feel forced but dammit I won't fucking lose you over this. When is the lease up on this place?"

"Umm, next month," she whispered.

"Good, don't re-sign. I'll find us a place when you're better. Quit your job, no two weeks, I'll get you a better one."

"Jason Peter Todd, if you think for one damn second-"

"It's my job to take care of you. You are not going to be freeloading, you don't need to make money, I have more than enough and you damn well know it. I won't tell the feminists club." He sat back down and reached to grab both her hands in his.

"You haven't even asked Dick. How will he and Kory feel-"

"They aren't together right now, he'll be stoked to have you, scouts honor," he said using one of his hands to make the star trek 3 finger sign.

"You stole tires? How is that very scouty?"

"I never said boy scouts, baby I was in Gotham scouts, street addition."

"You're lucky I love you cuz your jokes are crap." He was about to say something when is phone rang and 'dickhead' lit up the screen.

"Yello," he said into the phone.

"Jay, any chance Red can stop and help a guy out, got this huge bust?"

"What a coinkydink, I was just about to call you. I'll be right back, babe," he said to her and left the room. She couldn't hear him so the bastard must have gone out to the hallway.

"What's up," Dick asked.

"Alex isn't doing too well. I know you're still pissed about the alley-"

"Dude, so last season, old news."

"Didn't realize I was talking to a chick, could you put my brother back on the phone?"

"So Alex..."

"Anyway, I can't watch her close enough, and she's not being careful when she hurts herself-"

"What the fuck man, you're still letting her do that. Why does she even have anything sharp?"

"I didn't want her to feel forced into anything, she's an adult she would just go buy more. I was hoping the show of trust would help bring her out of her shell and at least tell me after she does it. She's using the knife I gave her, those interchangeable razor blade ones-"

"Shit, the one you cut that guy down to the bone with?"

"Yeah, obviously I gave it to her way before I knew what she was doing."

"So what do you need from me?"

"A spare bedroom, I don't know how long, but I'll help with your bust and-"

"As long as she needs."

"Dick?"

"Yeah, Jaybird?"

"I love you, you're a good big brother, even though you missed my funeral," he added so the words didn't feel as heavy on his tongue.

"Dude, I didn't even know-wait a damn minute what did you just say?"

"Clean your ears old man I ain't sayin' in again."

"Love you too, little bird. Tell Alex I said thanks for teaching you nice words." Jason rolled his eyes and hung up to go check on Alex. She was out of the tub and in one of his t-shirts sitting on the edge of the bed picking at her cuticles.

"Hi."

"Hi, I uh, I figured you'd wanna ya know check my...wounds, so I didn't bother with clothes," she said to the floor.

"I told Dick I loved him and he was a good brother."

"You did," she said with pride, her eyes snapping to his.

"Yeah, he said thanks for teaching me nice words." she nodded with a soft smile but it didn't last long as she laid back on the bed and bunched the shirt up to just under her breasts. No makeup no bandages and her ribs were shredded.

"Oh, baby," he said crossing the room in a few long strides. He put one knee on the bed to lean over her and run his finger over the cuts.

"These almost needed stitches."

"I know," she responded, jaw ticking.

"I love you, love you, love you," he repeated kissing each mark.

9-17-24

[cosmic-light-fics]

I'm sorry, I just can't take the break up with Claire seriously. The way that it happened felt so... off-putting compared to the rest of the show. It felt so forced. First off, she is told by the Faks that she can't go into the kitchen to see him. They only tell her that it's not a good time to go back there, and yet she presses them for more information, just like she pressed Carmy to know why he gave her a fake number. On the day of your boyfriend's soft opening for his restaurant, if one of the employees say now isn't a great time to go into the kitchen, why not just leave it at that? Like you can see him when they close down for the night, which wasn't going to take that long. But no, she goes into the back. Just as Sydney leaves. The writers having Syd experience her anxiety-induced vomiting right at the moment Claire comes into the kitchen is so not subtle, like at all. What do you think Sydney would have done if Claire came into the kitchen when she was still in there? It was a narrowly dodged confrontation between them. No way would Sydney have been okay with her being back there.

So then Claire goes to the walk-in door and just stands there, not announcing herself, just quietly listens to Carmy's ranting. At that point, I just throw my hands up. Why didn't she say anything!?!?! Why is she just standing there listening to him?!?!? And then she won't even wait for him to explain himself????????????? So she can stand there and hear him say all that stuff about their relationship being a waste of time, but she won't ask him why? Now is the freaking time she doesn't press for more information???????? Like gtfoh.

Oh and just to twist the knife more into Carmy's chest, the writers decide it'd be the perfect time for him to listen to a voicemail from Claire. An ooey-gooey, sappy voicemail about how proud she is of him, how she's always had "like this really big crush on him", and how Mikey would be proud of him. And she drops the "I really love you." Via voicemail. It's so forced. The pain it causes him just to hear those words in that moment is like a nail in the coffin. That voicemail stomped Carmy even lower into the ground. The Carmy we see in season 3 (hopefully we get another season) is going to be so freaking different in the worst possible way. I just wish it was executed a bit better.

[lookismstuff]

Highlights of Ep 486

SPOILER ALERT

"I can't breathe. I can't breathe! Take me out of this darkness that has lost its light. I can't stop it anymore. It's swallowing me up. Save me from myself..." - SONDIA, Nightmare

Some time during the night, Vin let the girl in but his mind kept him awake, thinking that the shaman must've sent the girl to kill him.

In anger, Vin was thinking of kicking the girl out but was stopped by the sight of her tears in her sleep.

The next day, Vin met the Cheonliang fam and apologized, but they teased him saying they wanted the old (rude) him back. Vin was embarassed but he insisted that he really meant to apologize to them (and that he was thankful). And that from then on, he was a Cheonliang Fam member, and called Seongji "Master".

Seongji called Vin to help him with kimchi, which Vin thought as maybe Seongji's way to trick him. Jewoo explained that they were running out of side dishes, while casually asking about the girl who was hiding behind Vin.

The girl then helped Seongji with the kimchi, and Vin then told the Cheonliang Fam kids that she was a servant of the Cheon household. She specially served Taejin, and had since ran away.

Taejin seemed to have vented his frustration of losing Vin and Seongji on the Yakuza and the servants. So the girl ran away out of fear of being killed.

Jewoo realized that this means Taejin must've been even more furious and would want to find both Vin and the girl.

The girl announced that she was a perfect servant: good at cooking, doing laundry, and doing dishes, which made Taebong and the others felt both pitiful and uncomfortable about her presence there.

Jewoo asked whether they would send her back, and Vin retorted that she would die since Taejin would never save her life, as his errant property.

Then Mary chimed in that they should take the girl in, and the girl thanked her (mistakenly called her "bro" and got hit in the head). Jewoo teased Mary whether she made this decision because of her rice diet plan and she kicked him mercilessly.

Seongji decided that the girl must stay at Vin's place (to his shock) since it was Vin who took her in the first place, then he got inside his house and left the kids behind.

Seongji also told Vin that he'd better take responsibility for her, and Vin was struggling with it but eventually said yes, on condition that Seongji taught him how to fight.

Vin told Seongji that he had no power to protect anyone yet, so with the new strength he'd be able to protect someone. Seongji told Vin that it wouldn't be just ssireum that he taught, but the classes would be so hard and vomit-inducing, the way he himself learned it, but Vin was happy anyway.

Seongji then proceeded to lock his door, and inside, he was gasping for air in what seems like a panic attack. In a daze, the young king took some pills to ease the attack.

Jewoo, perceptive as ever, realized that something was wrong and went knocking on his Master's door. Seongji deflected Jewoo's concern and told him to go and not to come in. In sad understanding, Jewoo complied.

Meanwhile, Charles was confident that the Shinmyeong would relinquish Cheonliang land ownership to him to deflect treason accusation. But the shaman showed the Red Paper that he obtained from Seongji: the evidence of Charles' treason, allegedly worse than Shinmyeong's. Shinmyeong called up the Kojima brothers and the other Yakuza lackeys just as Charles moved to attack him.

But Charles still had another ace up his sleeve: Enter young Gun, with a taunting smile on his face, to the foray.

[dandelionjack]

rewatched live on bbc1 as is custom (to get those ratings up)… both my criticism and praise still stands. lindy is even more intolerable the second go-around, let’s just say i won’t be returning to this one for a long time yet (which is a GOOD thing, making it genuinely difficult to watch means that the vomit-inducing characters and delirious pastel shades are working as intended) .

as for the tv show theory that i’ve become known for… there is genuinely so much here i don’t know where to start. when are they NOT breaking the fourth wall here — or should i say the fourth bubble screen

[awakentheeldritchabomination]

First off, I wanna say that I mean no disrespect to the artists who worked on Hazbin Hotel. It’s just that I’ve been seeing people make redesigns of Hazbin characters, and though I don’t usually participate in stuff like this (it seems fun, and you are all incredibly talented. I just feel kinda bad tinkering with someone else’s work like this), the show made me frustrated, and frustrated induced brain-vomit started sloshing around in my skull so noisily that it’s been keeping me up. And, well, I had to get it out somehow.

So…here ya go, I guess. It’s nothing crazy or new. It’s just a few disgustingly rough ideas for this very specific version of Charlie that I kept seeing in my head. They’re far from polished or anything, and they’re definitely missing some key details because I’ve been hyper-fixating on trying to get the face right lol. I might make a full body illustration later, but I have commitment issues so who knows how far this’ll go. That is to say, don’t expect any more of this or the other characters unless 1) my brain decides to torment me with more literal demons or 2) I, by some miracle, become a more productive person. Plus, Tumblr’s a new thing for me, and I don’t know what I’m doing with this yet other than posting art and then disappearing for years. Seriously, you have no idea. It’s a wonder that I posted for a second time.

Anyway, the direction of this design is pretty obvious. I went with the lamb/goat motif because I liked the idea of inverted/parallel symbolism. I was toying with a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” concept where they appear to be a lamb in this form but actually shift into a more wolf-like dragon sorta thing when prompted. Their wardrobe is supposed to be an extension of the innocent lamb deception as the ruffles and looseness are meant to be kinda reminiscent of fluff while communicating a sense of privilege (a white untainted by the grit of Hell… something that probably wouldn’t last long). I was also inspired by white goth and catholic goth aesthetics (I blame Ethel Cain) as well as those insanely beautiful ball-jointed dolls. I don’t know if I captured that well (to be honest, the more I look at those digital renditions, the more I hate them). I considered adding a pair of spectacles coz I thought it was cute lol, and because I thought it could be a way for them to try and seem more human.

If I were doing a rewrite (which I have ideas for, but I should probably focus on my actual original characters instead) then:

1. They would be agender and androgynous (I’d go the Good Omens route and make most angels/non-human entities largely genderless as gender is a human construction, one that most angels wouldn’t really concern themselves with)

2. They would be kinda elitist and naive but still sweet

3. Their intentions would not be entirely insincere, but they would not be acting without selfish goals

4. They would be an eldritch abomination

5. There would be possible exploration of their role as an antichrist as well as basically being a tool of war for their papa’s self-gratification

6. Their pops would suck

7. More horror

8. Like, it wouldn’t not be funny…but horror’s my genre so….

9. They would not suck at fighting, but death is traumatizing and so is being the cause of it (squeamish)

10. That being said, could make friends with Death??

And that’s all I feel like writing. Hopefully I update this lol

[sketchboi33]

I am so unwell about the full moon ep. I need to word vomit about Stoliz for a second pls. I wrote so much

Blitzø is so self-destructive, he can't comprehend the idea that someone like Stolas could actually love him. So instead of accepting Stolas' confession, he gets upset. Assumes that he's not doing enough to keep Stolas' interest. And gets mad at him when he assumes Stolas is doing this as another way to string him along. To play his game. When this is all not true.

Stolas loves Blitzø. Truly and honestly. But he knows that a deal like the one they had was forcing obligation into their relationship, as well as being a very unfair power dynamic. That, let's be fair, Stolas did originally set up himself. He's not fully in the right. But the way that he decided to break off something that was genuinely making him happy, because he now knows it isn't fair to Blitzø, that shows real growth and character development.

And I think deep down Stolas was staying naive to Blitzø's true feelings. He wanted so badly for Blitzø to reciprocate his feelings, and when he didn't get the response he wanted, he shut down fully. He's spent so much time in his life not feeling worth love because of Stella and his father. So in order to guard himself and not let that happen again, he immediately cuts the tie. Doesn't even let Blitzø have a moment to fully comprehend what's happening.

And to make matters worse, Blitzø's lashing out, although yes aimed to hurt Stolas, was done in a way that makes Stolas seem cold and arrogant, IN ORDER FOR BLITZØ TO FEEL JUSTIFIED IN HIS SELF DEPRICATION. Which of course hurt Stolas a lot. And his line of "I think so highly of you. It hurts to hear just how little you think of me" just like.. you know.. ripped my heart out and tore it into little pieces.

Although it literally kills me. I think this break is good for them. Especially Blitzø. Stolas will get a chance to I think gain a small bit of confidence back. And just that fact that he did this at all shows immense amounts of growth. And for Blitzø I'm really hoping this allows him to realize his own feelings. And perhaps he will be able to realize his own self destructive tendencies and maybe take this as a sign to fight back against them for once. Not without some MAJOR depressive and anger induced episodes though. The mans is very very not well and this is certainly not going to help at first.

Anyways... I just needed to word vomit about this. I am obsessed with these two and I will be very very sad about this until the next episode comes out 🥲

[burntheedges]

Hello hello lovely! 👋🏻 checking in to see how you’re doing? And hoping that your week has been off to a good start and to also hope that the rest of the week will be good to you too 🥰

I have a fun lil’ Q for you (maybe fun isn’t the right word but it’s a Q nonetheless, and at the very least, it’s not directly feral 😅)

TW for anyone who needs it: periods and all the related symptoms. Also thoughts of javi p. Needs one all on its own.

So, in case you didn’t already know, I am firmly stuck in my javi p era and life ahem got me thinking (three guesses what demons meghan was fighting today 🙄), how would he deal with/react to/treat you/help you out when you’re on your worst period days?

And I’m talking a verrrrry specific javi, bc we all know this man is an absolute sweetheart, especially when he leaves Colombia and gets more settled into life, but what about like s1/2 javi (and let’s be honest a lil’ bit of 3 too 👀) where he’s got this reputation as a player and a womaniser and maybe you’re only spending one or two nights together, or maybe you’re in a secret relationship and he must keep up the facade of being an asshole at work (I am, in fact, a SUCKER for javi secret relationships if that much wasn’t obvious already).

Idk, like I say, life (read: my crippling, vomit-inducing cramp today) got me thinking about how I need someone else to take it away, and we’ve already discussed sweet angel baby Frankie 🫠

Anyway, that’s all, nothing too crazy this time! I hope you have an amazing rest of your week 💕

meghan hi!! sorry for the delay, it's been busy over here. 🧡 I'm doing good, mostly! how are you? how was your week?

a Javi P era is a good era to be in 😂 are you still maybe writing something 👀

I feel like Javi wouldn't be squeamish at all about periods, tbh. he grew up on a ranch and he's been around a lot of blood otherwise. and like, that man love sex way too much to refrain while a woman is on her period. I doubt he cares at all. and clearly we both know he would be so sweet about it back in Texas.

but s1/2 Javi is so interesting for this! if you work together and he can't show what he's thinking, or that he likes you... I feel like he'd do everything he could without saying anything or changing his little frowny, serious face about it. so maybe some chocolate from your favorite place would appear in the top drawer of your desk, maybe your coworker's very fragrant lunch that would have made you nauseous mysteriously disappears from the break room, maybe there's coffee or tea waiting for you at your desk multiple times throughout the day when you get up to do something. maybe he tugs you into the file room for a hug and to rub your shoulders. he may not be obvious about it, but he's sneaky and he's paying attention.

and maybe he's waiting for you back at your place, ready with a hot water bottle and some food and a soft blanket. and as soon as you're up for it he's going to show you how much he still very much wants you in bed. 😂 or on the couch. wherever, really.

what do you think?? 👀