#and it changed into something more to Dew's taste when he took over

[ghcstcd]

Dew does have a cute little tattoo. Right above his tail, originally of his water element. Strange enough, it changed with Dewdrop's element to represent fire.

[mysindividual]

Unknowingly, hers | Aaron Hotchner

MASTERLIST

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem liaison reader

summary: A rainy night in a bar, an undercover task, coquetting with your boss — what else could you wish for? After days of trying to catch the murderer, and one stagnant investigation without any solid leads, the team ultimately uncovers how their unsub targets his victims. You could only think of one strategy: set up an ambush. An ambush that put you and your supervisor in an uncomfortable position, leading in the need to engage in flirtatious interactions.

warning: boss x subordinate, age gap, MUTUAL PINING, pre-established rship, mentions of alcohol, rape, killing.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!

Aaron Hotchner was not a man who would allow himself to be distracted from a task, much less a man who enjoyed sitting and sipping beer in some smoky bar, flirting with women — even if it was just for show. His work always came first — that was why he agreed on this charade. He was devoted to work more than his own self, always his number one priority, and his now ex-wife could attest. So knowing that fact and knowing himself, there was absolutely nothing that could distract him from work. Or there ought not to be. So what had changed now?

In his line of work distractions were never good. They could be, what one would say, fatal.

Chilly droplets of dew trickled from the glass surface, down into his pocket where he tightly grasped the bottle, giving him the sensation that it was his own cold sweat running down his temples.

He might not have even noticed it was getting overly hot until the moment you sat down beside him. About to ask you for a drink, his what was supposed to be a flitting gaze paused on you and in that agonizing moment he watched as you took off your jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, leaving you in a red t-shirt and jeans that hugged you around your waist and hips.

The taste of his cold beverage was not enough to quench the fire in his throat.

What on earth was the matter with him!

He swallowed, his eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Irritated by the mere idea, with a frown on his face as dark as the weather outside, he looked back at the bottle he was holding. Why was he staring? Why was he even thinking about it? He needed to focus. You were embarking on a mission that held importance for the whole team. The case was put on hold due to a lack of information and leads for days, weeks. Until two days ago when you showed up in his office, with newspaper in your hands and sugary crystals glued to your lips — why did he remember that? — and finally provided him with the first solid lead in a long time. Concluding this case meant a sense of relief and a good night's rest for the team.

God, he didn't even notice or hear when the bartender approached. Or when in the midst the cacophony of noise you ordered your drink, then how could he carry out this task?

He stole a side-glance at you, only then wishing he didn’t.

There was something almost hypnotic about the way your fingers tenderly curled around the glass and brought it up, pressing to your lips. Despite the surrounding and background noise that busted around the bar — clink of bottles, soft music playing, the hum of conversation, the men cheering for their football team playing on the TV — Hotch found himself able to discern the sound of that shot sliding down your throat in a slow motion, just momentarily tingling beneath the sensitive skin on your neck.

While you were not paying attention, he allowed his gaze to move from your face, down the skin of your neck and arm, to the glass held in your fingers, then finally settling on your lips.

“Just one." You made two promises there.

You promised the first time, setting your glass down on the bar counter once you felt his glance on you, disapproving your way of handling. However, much to your shock, he remained silent.

Just one. You promised the second time — but this time to yourself — once you caught a glimpse from the corner of your eye that he was giving you one of those looks that initially shook the earth beneath your feet and then stabilised you.

Just one because one was needed to put you in a right mood — the ideal ambiance in a corner of your mind, not as distant as one might assume. Just one because you were scared to risk how’d you behave yourself in his presence in this atmosphere.

And he let you take just one because he knew the two drinks did the charm for you.

One was absolutely harmless.

Two… made you into a fiddler.

2 days ago

"Advertisement?" He paused in the middle of flipping a page in his file, glancing at you skeptically from beneath his dark eyebrows, weighing the possible veracity behind your words. Then, you watched as his gaze dropped to your lips only then being hyper-aware of how you’d left your office.

You found yourself muttering an apology, glancing sideways, your fingertips ever-so-slightly brushing the sticky sugar away. And offered, "Take a look."

Minutes ago, inside the privacy of your office, surrounded by 4 walls, you were enjoying your lunch break.

To be quite frank, it was not how you typically chose to spend your time off. You would be out or in the cafeteria with the rest of your team, but the situation in the last few days was a little different. Venturing outside — past your office — provided a great opportunity to run into your boss, which you’d been attempting to steer clear of recently. And so you were sitting in the comfort of your chair, your legs crossed on the table, a doughnut in one and the newspaper in the other hand.

Rising fuel prices.

California wildfires.

British police find car bombs in London.

You found it impossible to continue reading. The purpose of a lunch break was a time-out from work. So you flipped through a couple of pages to reach the back section of the newspaper where the advertisements were located. You’d been wanting for quite some time now to find yourself another car. And so, you skimmed through some advertisements, while others you carefully read, until one finally caught your attention.

It was one of the less prominent ads, and the yellow letters and caption were the one that allured you every time. Every 4th of a month.

Find love! Find gay friends! Find you! FIND OUT! If you are looking to find more about sex, love, or relationship with other guys — congratulations! You've just found it!

You sat upright in the chair, the heels of your boots echoing off the tile floor. With the doughnut firmly gripped between your teeth, you held the newspaper with both hands now and brought it closer to your eyes.

An ultimate guide on how gay men get guys.

"Oh, God!" You exclaimed, hastily taking the doughnut out of your mouth and putting it back in the box on the desk, grabbing the newspaper and making your way to Hotch’s office.

“That has to be it.” Leaning back deep in his chair, Derek played with the pencil in his hands. "We have already analyzed and investigated into all the rational methods that the unsub could’ve used to reach the victims.”

"Absolutely." Garcia added and hurriedly continued speaking in a barely understandable manner, as if reluctant she might acknowledge her mistake. "I checked everything: their online activities, credit cards, surveillance footage... Nothing."

"We know that none of these victims used online-blind-dating sites, or whatever. We know they've never set foot in a gay bar before. So how did the killer get to them? Their family and friends never suspected, let alone knew, that they were gay." Rossi explained. "The victims themselves weren't aware of their homosexuality.”

“And this ad right here…” You unfolded your arms and leaned forward on the desk, glancing at Hotch briefly before focusing down where your finger tapped the new, textured paper. "It provides exactly that. To find themselves from within. This has to be it.”

“We also know the profile." Hotch finally replied, not taking his eyes off you. "I want you to find all the previous newspapers in which these ads can be found. The meetings’ location, time and place, must be announced somewhere in there. There’s a possibility the messages will be encrypted, so take Reid with you. And Garcia…” You nodded in agreement, and he stared at you for a minute longer before shifting his focus to Garcia, who stood behind you, picking at her nails. “Find everything you can about this ad and how the victims were able to contact the advertiser."

The murder seemed linked to the ad, and Hotch’s instincts were usually accurate because they were not mere guesses, but predictions based on numerous factors, all considered in light of his experience.

Gathering all the needed information, the team agreed on the strategy.

“We need someone inside. Someone who will play a confused young man, curious, eager..." Rossi didn't even get a word out, and everyone's gaze — some sneakily, some more openly — were fixed on Reid who was ready to protest but decided otherwise. Arguing with all of you was pointless. Besides, he was the only young man around — he’d remember this and gladly rub it on Derek’s nose.

On the other side of the table, Derek and Emily quickly agreed on teaming up.

"I agree. But if possible, I would like to avoid this long-awaited undercover mission, and be the one to stay behind with Garcia. My stomach still hurts." Waving his hand at his stomach, Rossi grimaced.

“Do you realize we are discussing a man who managed to overpower four men, rape them, and then kill them?" Reid objected.

"Y/L/N and I will join." Hotch said expressionlessly, interlocking his gaze with you just for a second.

Join how? You wondered, your elbow on the armrest, your chin resting on your fist. Garcia stood up, placing documents atop each other, muttering under her breath. "Nothing easier… just be the two of you, but together."

Hotch's eyebrows snapped together, meeting your eyes briefly once again before he looked to the side at Garcia with barely tamed fire in his eyes. "I'm sorry?"

“I- um- sir…” Garcia stuttered and you seized the opportunity to leave the office before Hotch unleashed that smoldering fire on all of you.

Glancing behind your shoulder, Garcia ran after you with a swift pace you'd never seen her take before. Together you both hurried down the stairs and rushed through the glass door, cursing each other before parting ways in the hallway — each heading to your own den.

And that was how you got here.

“So… A gay man in a straight people’s bars.” You finally spoke, trying to sound casual even though this meeting wasn’t. “Finds his victims who are also gay and kills them the same night. At first glance it doesn’t make much sense.”

“Without knowing what we know — it doesn’t.” Hotch replied, then took a sip from his bottle. The victims had never before crossed the threshold of the bars in which they met with the unsub. The unsub found them the same night, and then killed them. “But it was a smart move to throw the cops off to a wrong path.”

“Definitely.” You agreed. “In this modern digitalized world who’d even bother to check the newspapers.”

When he didn’t say anything in return, you sighed, leaning towards the bar, pushing the empty glass away.

"You two look like a date gone wrong." Even with the music playing, Derek's amused voice could be heard loud and clear through the small earbud piece. You leaned back slightly to catch sight of Derek and Emily dancing lavishly together.

“Like every date Y/N goes to.” Emily added, smirking at you.

That earned them a reproachful look from their boss.

Nice, now your boss knew how lame your dating life was.

But nonetheless, you laughed, and the warmth of your laughter enveloped Hotch's heart. Looking back at you, he softened and watched as you swirled the ice cubes in your fresh Coke with a small red straw. Then bringing the straw up to your lips, you took a sip. Now it was his jaw that clenched.

“Incorrect…” you playfully remarked, your eyes sparkled as you held his gaze determinedly over the rim of your glass, and that victorious grin on your face transitioned into something affectionate, something intimate. “This one takes the cake."

“Sir! I told you gotta act!”

"Garcia." Aaron warned.

“I can multitask, sir.” She quickly added, with a hint of reverence. “I have a reputation I intend to keep. So no, no developments as of now."

"Could he possibly know we've found out?" You asked.

"I doubt it."

While talking, Aaron usually had the tendency to look around the room, examine the faces and look for any signs of trouble. The bar had an overall sense of amusement, with sporadic bursts of loud chatter and individuals savoring drinks such as beer, neat whiskey, or some mixed drinks and sodas with straws. Couples, friends, loners — everyone was busy either drinking, dancing, or... kissing.

His hand trembled, holding onto the beer tightly as he brought it to his mouth and chugged, grimacing. "What happened with Brad?" He finally asked, taking you aback just a little.

It’d been a few days since that conversation with him about Brad, and it had quite bothered you that he hadn’t asked you anything about your final decision.

"Who is Brad?" You chuckled, your head dropping slightly before looking up at him again, a warm smile forming on your lips that... It stole something from him, something he couldn’t express crisply enough. In this very casual manner, you appeared …beautiful while brushing back the hair that skimmed your cheeks.

He frowned, glancing down, collecting his thoughts. At some point along the way you had become a distraction. Pushing that realization aside with a blink, he couldn’t afford to be distracted now. He looked at the beer he was holding like it was an escape — a safe haven from your gaze. He had nearly consumed all of his drink. Hotch had been refraining from alcohol for some time, now it was starting to affect him. He did drink stronger drinks alone in his apartment or at Rossi’s after his divorce, and even then he noticed he couldn’t keep up with it the way his younger self used to. Yeah. It had to be it.

“Well, I suppose it was the right thing to do.”

“Well, in fact it was you who helped me realize. Some mistakes aren’t worth repeating twice. So cheers to that, sir.” You swivelled sideways and towards him, holding your glass up before taking a sip.

Sir. There that came again. It was not that he hated being called ‘sir’, damn, Garcia called him that too many times and the thought never appalled him. He was just not used to hear you call him ‘sir’. It was mainly ‘Hotch’, sometimes even ‘Hotchner’, or if you were being a little tease then you referred to him as ‘boss’.

“Sir!” Garcia’s voice came through, cutting his thoughts in half. “He’s here!”

You shared a knowing glance.

And then suddenly, some guy sauntered in, physically placing himself between you and Hotch. The action was unexpected, quite bold. However, you then realized that to most outsiders, the two of you probably didn't appear to be a couple. In this very bar, couples around you were doing…things, and the two of you hardly spoke at all.

“Hey there sunshine.” He drawled, leaning against the bar, looking down at you. The tall man didn’t mind or acknowledge Hotch at all. He had black lush hair, probably devastatingly blue eyes, in his late 20s – early 30s. Closer to your age than Hotch was anyway, he thought to himself. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Finding yourself in this awkward position, before you could even answer, Hotch cleared his throat. The latter turned around peevishly just enough to give Hotch gray glares, and arching an eyebrow, replied disgusted. "I didn't ask you... pal." And he turned to you again, a jolly smirk on his face.

So Hotch was right. The man had devastatingly blue eyes.

Aaron glanced annoyedly at his beer. If he could have, he'd have smashed that bottle on his head. But decided to go with a more rational option and patted the man’s shoulder.

"It's showtime." Derek's voice sang in the bug.

"She's busy... pal." Your boss countered, his voice low and tinged with warning.

"Doesn't seem so..." He now addressed Hotch over his shoulder, choosing not to let your companion bother him or to take his eyes off of you. “…pal.”

The man’s finger made way under your chin and he tilted your head backwards, hovering over you.

“Oh ‘xcuse me…” You scoffed disapprovingly at the boldness of his action, moving your head away from his touch. Bristled.

The crease between Aaron’s eyebrows deepened further, keenly resolute. He felt the bubbles of anger simmer inside him, waiting for the right sign to explode. He smothered a sigh, steeling himself. If he had been on assignment somewhere on the field — any other, or on a real date with you — he'd have handled the situation in a much different way. Instead, he put his hand on the man's shoulder again, but this time firmly, and pushed him away from you.

"I said..." The baleful timbre of Aaron’s voice carried the same threat evident on his face. He reached out and grabbed the stem of your chair. The tiles beneath creaked as he dragged the chair towards himself, closing the gap between the two of you. Your knees accidentally brushed against his leg and the familiar warm sensation returned to your stomach, causing your pulse to quicken. "She's with me." Something ickered in Aaron’s eyes. You were unsure how to interpret it.

"And what could a woman like her want with a grump like you?" You heard the guy say, stepping towards Hotch, his chest puffed out.

You had to stop it before it escalated.

Deliberately, you inched closer, your gaze meeting Aaron’s. Behind your flashing eyes, he could see both — a permission and an apology for what you were bracing yourself to do.

“It’s okay…” You began gently, swallowing as you placed your hands on Aaron’s knees, stroking his legs. You couldn't look away from your boss's eyes, and as you smiled, subtly wrinkling your nose at him, you could have sworn that the muscles under the denim fabric hardened even more than they had just a moment before. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Being in such proximity, it was impossible to ignore all the things Aaron noticed about you — the depth of your bottomless eyes, shiny lips, the peachy scent of your hair was the only scent worthy in this noisome crowd. He was definitely drunk, a bit tempted. Never had he ever been intoxicated solely by the subtle scent of a shampoo.

"Well, if you wanna have real fun, I'll be sitting over there." He winked at you, pointing somewhere behind you.

You both watched as the man walked away, only then ending the charade. An awkward tension set between you two that made you feel every beat of your wilding heart. In a profound quietness, you both swivelled around and towards the bar. In a deafening silence, both of you, reflected on it without acknowledging that you longed for that intimacy.

“I-…”

“Do you see him?” Hotch spoke over you, back to business. You quickly glanced over your shoulder and back to Aaron, nodding.

“Ok. Good.” He pressed the earpiece with his finger. “Morgan?”

“He’s talking to Reid.” Garcia spoke instead.

“It’s definitely him, Aaron.” Rossi confirmed.

“We have a bit of a situation here.” Both of you looked at where you last saw Emily and Derek. You couldn't get the proper view at the two of them sitting in the booth now, but it looked like a group of women stood beside their desk.

Morgan, you rolled your eyes playfully. And then…

"Wait..." You frowned, and Hotch watched as the gears in your head turned before recognition dawned on your face. You looked up at him. “Isn't that Joseph Moetski?"

Hotch glowered, thinking. The newsdealer. He still hadn’t had a chance to look back and see for himself, but it would make perfect sense. After all, Joseph was a newsagent and the team had known about him —you had worked with him in an occasion or two when you first started working for Hotch. He had the access to all the media: magazines, newspapers, television, and so on.

Aaron drew closer towards you, not wanting to blow your cover away, now his whole body facing you. You felt a dangerous flutter in your heart as you looked at him squarely into eyes, never anticipating what he was about to do. He reached forward to move the hair from your face back over your shoulder and then tucked some behind your ear. His gaze was dark and intent — you could see the concentration in there, maybe even slight tenderness, and it sent your mind in wild directions.

Your hair was very silky and soft under his palm, the focus of his vision shifted from the man who was seated beside Reid a few meters behind, to you.

“Garcia?” His spoke coolly, professionally. But there was nothing professional about the way he was watching you. You ducked your head and gently stroked the skin on your neck, a lively red blossom of color rose up your cheeks, a hesitant smile stretched across your face. It was such a small gesture. And then his big hand rested on the side of your neck, using the opportunity to feel your skin — something he’d never admit to himself. Hoping he couldn’t feel your telltale pulse, you had to remind yourself that he was your very professional never-crossing-a-line boss.

It was a dangerous game to even think about something like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. For years you’d been harbouring feelings for him — platonic or not, and this was not going to help.

“Bingo! It’s him!”

“Sorry to interrupt you, birdies.” A bartender interrupted and you both turned around, almost jumping from your seats. “The politics around here are: you have to order another drink… or get the hell out of here. And as I can see, you drank all of yours.” Crossing her arms on her chest, she asked. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

As Hotch took the chance to order new drinks, anxiety creeped up your back, and you looked back over your shoulder just in time to see Spence holding the back of his head as well as the unsub running toward and past the two of you.

Gripping your gun close under your clothes, you reached out and tugged on Hotch's shirt. “Hotch!” You promptly got to your feet and chased after the suspect.

You heard a chair fall onto the dark tiles of the floor somewhere behind you, disgruntled and angry shouts and remarks from people who were bumbed or knocked down by the man you were running after.

Fortunately, the unsub cleared a way for you, allowing you to quickly catch up with him, grab him and push him. His face met the ground, and hastily you sat on top of him, pushing his hands and securing them on his upper back. But to say you were struggling would be an understatement. The unsub was a strong man, twice your size, so when he managed to free one hand from your grasp it was a no surprise. He attempted to pull you upwards and you sat unsteadily on his back, swaying like you were at a rodeo, a quick "whoa" slipping out of your mouth. Hotch rushed to help you, kicking the unsub’s feet, and without a second thought, his chest pressed against your back as he leaned closely from behind you, his arms wrapped around you as he assisted in restraining the suspect before Emily approached and put the handcuffs on.

The third party — Reid, watching it all unfold in front of his eyes, couldn’t help but smile at you both even through the throbbing pain in his head. You were just like Mulder and Scully. Tangled and messy, unable to see it, yet still fantastic as a team.

Now the only thing left was, he concluded, for you two to realize it finally.

In all that rush and adrenaline kicking in, neither of you did have time to process or relish the way your bodies melded together.

But this whole night was something that would keep you both up tonight and wouldn’t let you get that well-deserved good night’s sleep.

[divine-misfortune]

The floor is yours good sir 👀

CLEARS THROAT

After his transition, Dewdrop felt nothing but loss. Everything was taken from him. His element, his pack, his bass. And what pack he had left felt like strangers to him, though some of them were strangers. Mountain and Aether looked at him different. He was just Dew now. No more Dewdrop, the clergy had even stolen his own fucking name from him. No more droplet, no more water lily, no more catfish. Sure, the nicknames changed. Sure, they were still endearing. But they weren’t his. It felt like he’d stolen something from Ifrit - like every passing ‘spitfire’ was desecrating something sacred.

In the weeks and months following, he hides the urge to grimace every single time these new pet names find their way to his ears. Dew wants to like them, wants to feel that familiar fuzzy warmth in his chest. Yearns for the feeling of love to settle into his core like an old familiar friend. He also does his best not to looked like a kicked puppy when Mountain calls this new ghoul ‘tadpole’ for the first time, and the second time, and every occurrence after that. It was like being replaced. More confusing of a feeling though, keeping him around to watch this new water ghoul blossom was painful. Could have been classified as Dewdrop related cruelty.

And there is no way for him to swallow down the resentment and anger that boils in him when Aether purrs the faintest ‘raindrop’ against Rain’s kiss plumped lips. Puts off sparks, the fire in the hearth crackles and flares violently before snuffing out abruptly as he gets off the couch and storms out of the room.

Time blurs eventually. They say it heals all wounds but all it does is numb him to the hurt. Dew can force it down far enough he can force himself to be in the same room as Rain. And then after a bit longer, tolerate a conversation with him, which turns into multiple over time. Spirals into thousands of shared thoughts and words between them until Dew can’t get enough of listening to Rain talk. Disdain and arms length distance becomes infatuation and a desire for proximity he didn’t think possible before.

Dew kisses him. Suddenly and without even considering what he was doing, the fire ghoul was leaning over the sleek white bass in Rain’s lap to sate an itch he’d been ignoring since the day they met. Their mouths fit together like they were made for this. He tastes like everything Dew had dreamed about and more. It tastes like home and conflict mixed in one but it doesn’t drive him away like it should. Curiosity has him licking over the seam of Rain’s lips and dipping past when Rain allows him in. His gasp lights a fire in Dew he’d never felt. Not simply arousal, but something deeper than even he knew. Completion.

They’re lucky Rain has the shoulder strap on because if not that bass would’ve hit the floor because Rain’s hands had abandoned it to fit on a more favorable body. One against his cheek, the other on the back of his neck. Every point of contact Dew can find helps make the world make sense again. He’s practically trying to crawl into Rain’s already occupied lap, wanting to press their bodies together in a way not entirely sexual.

And they part, and Dew’s world feels broken in half. Ripped away by the distance between their lips. The taste lingers and Dew hopes it stays forever. Hopes that this might be the one thing they can’t take from him.

“Rain, I-“

“Took you long enough,” he interrupts and pets his thumb over his warm cheek. “Kept me waiting, droplet.”

There it is. That single fucking word and Dew’s shattered world is flipped on its head and forced back together despite the missing chipped pieces.

The clergy may have stolen it from him, but Rain gave it back just like that.

Dew could laugh, should probably cry, but he just stares at those pretty blue eyes. Frozen until relief thaws him and reminds his heart to start beating again, even if it is a bit faster than it had been. It didn’t matter, his heart could beat right out of his chest and Dew wouldn’t care. Too fixated on the way the word leaves Rain’s tongue, fascinated by the fondness it carries, enraptured by the way he looks at him. It didn’t cure the pain his transition caused him, but it did stitch the open wound shut so it could finally begin to heal.

“Say it again…”

“Again?”

“Call me that again, please.”

“As many times as you want, droplet. Anything you want.”

And each one is a reminder of who he was - who he is. His name no longer felt strange and foreign like ill fitted clothes.

[k-marzolf]

Diet Mountain Dew.

Neighbors to lovers, mechanic!Billy, reader is thirsty, Billy is cocky, kissing, fluff, fem!reader.

1,284 words.

x

It started where you’d come by, and help give him tools, “Here, Mister Russo.” You’d say, sweetly.

And if he said he didn’t imagine you calling him Mister Russo in different circumstances, he’d be lying.

You smiled, pushing up your large glasses, as though you knew, twirling the tools in your hand, and blowing bubbles with your gum, and changing his radio station to country music of all things.

He turned it back to rock, and you popped another bubble. “I was listening to that.”

“I don’t care. My garage, my music.” He said, lifting the hood of the car.

“You’re kind of an asshole, aren’t you?”

“Took you long enough to figure it out.” He smirked over his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes.

One day he was getting ready to leave when you popped your gum, blowing another bubble, waiting for him to take you home in the cold weather. You often popped into your neighbor's work to chat with him, while you waited for him to get off work. His business was near the bookstore where you worked, and he’d drive you home every day so you didn’t have to walk home with your bad knee, especially with winter right around the corner.

He wiped his hand off of the grease on an old cloth, “Need a ride home?”

You smiled softly, “Yes, Mister Russo.” And then popped your gum again.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. “You pop that gum one more time, we’re gonna have a problem.” He said, baring his teeth.

You blew a bubble, popping it.

The audacity.

He growled, kissing you hard, pushing into your mouth, knocking your glasses askew, and making you gasp. He pulled back, with your gum in his mouth, and spit it out in the trash.

“I wasn’t done chewing.” You said indignant.

“You are now, baby.” He smirked, closing the garage down.

You followed him with your cane, “Asshole.”

Billy watched you apply your chapstick that was root beer flavored while he took a wheel off a car. “That actually work, or does it just taste good?”

You huffed, “It works.” You blotted your lips. “Wanna taste, Mister Russo?” You teased, puckering up.

He held up his can of soda, “I’m good.”

You sighed, “Too bad. I would have given you a kiss for a dollar.” You teased lightly.

“Jesus, in my day it was fifty cents.” He teased back.

“I’m expensive.” You laughed.

Billy huffed, “Clearly.”

You stood in the hall outside your neighbor’s apartment with your cane, knocking on his door. Your leg ached.

He opened it, “Yeah?” He asked admiring you in your sweater dress, the way your hair was done up nice. He wanted to brush it, and play with it.

“My stove won’t work.” You said softly. “Can you come look at it?” You asked, pushing your glasses up, your sweater sleeves too long for your arms, and hung over your hands a little.

“For a dollar.” He grinned, laughing, when you hit arm.

You ate chocolates, while he bent over your stove, looking at it and mumbling to himself.

You admired him in his tight dark jeans and green sweater. You may or may not have found things around your apartment wrong, just so he’d come over. So you wouldn’t have to be alone. Always alone, friends were hard to come by being disabled. You slowed them down.

You were too shy to ask him to have a movie night or something. And sometimes you just wanted to sit and read a book with your feet in his lap, while he read his own book, enjoying each other's company.

And he caught you at it, too. “You want me to come over, baby, I will. Don’t need an excuse to see a pretty girl.”

Your cheeks heated, and he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You sat there in his work garage watching him work on some old Chevy or something, you were terrible with cars, admiring how his sweater slid up exposing his naval and the little patch of hair there, you twirled a wrench or whatever it was, in your hand itching to touch him.

You pressed your thighs together, as he slid out from underneath the car, hands looking greasy, his sweater pulled up around his elbows. You imagined him staining your thighs with his handprints as he kissed you.

You imagined running your fingers through his soft hair, always slicked back and faded on the sides, before pulling on it while he kissed you, probably tasting like the soda he drank. And then you imagined pulling on his hair for an entirely different reason.

He looked over at you, smirking as he sipped his soda, fingers stained from working on the car. Uh oh. He must have noticed you gawking. He rolled over to you, sitting at your level on the thing he’d rolled under the car with (you were at a loss for the terminology), in his maroon sweater and black jeans.

“Want somethin’, baby?” Billy asked, looking cocky.

“No.” You said, shyly.

“No?” Billy asked, smiling growing. He leaned closer, and you instinctively leaned in too. “Gotta be a good girl and ask for what you want.” He teased you.

“Mister Russo, you’re being an asshole.” You whined, seriously considering whacking him on the head with the wrench-thingy.

He laughed; “I think we both already know I’m an asshole.” He said, booping you on the nose with his dirty fingers.

“Can I have a kiss?” You asked, sweetly. “I helped give you tools all day. Froze my leg off here.” You said, patting your leg.

“For a dollar.” He smirked.

You glared, “Fine, I’ll just kiss Paul down the hall.”

Billy huffed, “You think mama’s boy can kiss you right?” Billy asked, rolling closer.

God, he was being an asshole, but Paul was a mama’s boy. He did nothing without his mother’s help.

“Mister Russo.” You whined, “Don’t you wanna taste the root beer on my lips?”

“C’mere.” Billy hummed, and you leaned into him eagerly. He kissed you this time, making your insides melt, his fingers touching your thighs making you sigh. He gripped them, and yanked you closer, careful of your bad leg.

You gasped into his mouth, tasting Diet Mountain Dew on him. The feel of his tongue sliding against yours had desire licking at your insides.

You pulled on his hair roughly, making him groan into your mouth, and an ache built between your thighs.

He pulled back kissing you once, twice, three times before nudging you with his nose. “You taste real sweet, baby. Better than root beer.” He husked.

And then you looked down to see your legs stained with grease, and oil. You grinned inwardly, that had been your intention all along.

“Sorry, baby.” He said, not sounding sorry at all.

You giggled, “Next time I bake, I’m getting flour all over you.” You threatened.

Billy grinned.

God, you made work go by easily.

Later after he drove you home, you shyly invited him into your apartment, and you both ended up on your couch, you laying back, with him laying between your thighs, chin resting on your stomach while you played with his hair, listening to an audiobook.

He looked like a lazy cat, enjoying petting from his favorite human. His eyes were hooded as he watched you, feeling wanted after a childhood unwanted in the group home.

For the first time, you didn’t feel like a burden, alone with only the characters in your books to keep you company.

You didn’t know what you and Billy were, but you were content to let it unfold.

x

Tags; @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

[carchaseonacarchase]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎 & 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 🤎

╰┈➤ this is a list of songs that i think fit very well with carmen and chase, the selection of songs is pretty personal cause it's based on my own music tastes, i appreciate you to recommend me songs and other suggestions to expand it :3 this playlist is full of 60's/90's songs to keep it classic but there's also pop/rock/indie songs on there. enjoy ;)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

⚘ the world we knew (over and over) frank sinatra ❛❛ and the sun and the moon seemed to be ours, each road that we took turned into gold. but the dream was too much for you to hold ❞

⚘ under attack abba ❛❛ under attack, i'm taking cover, he's on my track, my chasing lover ❞

⚘ atomic blondie ❛❛ make me tonight, tonight make it right ❞

⚘ stop the world cause' i wanna get off with you arctic monkeys ❛❛ when you want to escape, say the word. well i know that getting you alone isn't easy to do. get the sense that you're on the move, and you'll probably be leaving soon ❞

⚘ i need a disguise belinda carlisle ❛❛ i need a disguise, to hide my love, i need a disguise, you've seen too much ❞

⚘ waterloo abba ❛❛ and how could i ever refuse? i feel like i win when i lose. couldn't escape if i wanted to, waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you ❞

⚘ the louvre lorde ❛❛ our days and nights are perfumed with obsession. but we're the greatest, they'll hang us in the louvre down the back, but who cares - still the louvre ❞

⚘ it's no good depeche mode ❛❛ i'm gonna take my time, i have all the time in the world to make you mine, it is written in the stars above ❞

⚘ you know that i'm not good amy winehouse ❛❛ i cheated myself. like i knew i would. i told you i was trouble, you know that i'm no good❞

⚘ some unholy war amy winehouse ❛❛ he can't lose with me in tow, i refuse to let him go, at his side and drunk on pride, we wait for the blow ❞

⚘ useless depeche mode ❛❛ all your stupid ideals, you've got your head in the clouds, you should see how it feels, with your feet on the ground ❞

⚘ rebel yell billy idol ❛❛ what set you free and brought you to me, babe? what set you free? i need you here by me ❞

⚘ diet mountain dew lana del rey ❛❛ you're no good for me, baby, you're no good for me, you're no good for me, but, baby, i want you, i want you ❞

⚘ tainted love soft cell ❛❛ once i ran to you, now i'll run from you. the love we share seems to go nowhere ❞

⚘ love is a battlefield pat benatar ❛❛ but i'm trapped by your love, and i'm chained to your side. both of us knowing, love is a battlefield ❞

⚘ out of touch hall & oates ❛❛ the shades all around aren't the colors we used to see, broken ice still melts in the sun, and ties that are broken can often be one again, we're soul alone, and soul really matters to me ❞

⚘ he can only hold her amy winehouse ❛❛ now, how can he have her heart, when it got stole? so he tries to pacify her 'cause what's inside her never dies ❞

⚘ can't take my eyes of you the four seasons ❛❛ now that i've found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you ❞

⚘ careless whisper george michael ❛❛ as the music dies, something in your eyes, calls to mind a silver screen, and all its sad goodbyes ❞

⚘ les feuilles mortes duo gadjo and their hot friends ❛❛ oh! je voudrais tant que tu te souviennes, des jours heureux où nous étions amis, en ce temps-là, la vie était plus belle, et le soleil plus brûlant qu'aujourd'hui ❞

⚘ summer wine nancy sinatra ❛❛ she took my silver spurs a dollar and a dime, and left me cravin' for more summer wine❞

⚘ imagination foster the people ❛❛ we can't change the things we can't control, it's summer somewhere, do you shouldn't be so cold. if you want me to stay, don't keep me waiting for it ❞

⚘ why must we wait until tonight? tina turner ❛❛ take your lips and make them mine, tell me why, why must we wait until tonight, why when i've waited all my life ❞

⚘ the lady in red chris de burgh ❛❛ and when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away. it's just you and me, it's where i wanna be ❞

⚘ white teeth teens lorde ❛❛ i know you love it when the hairpins start to drop, i like your reckoning, but we got our methods ❞

⚘ heroes david bowie ❛❛ though nothing, nothing will keep us together, we can beat them, forever and ever. we can be us, just for one day ❞

⚘ knowing me, knowing you abba ❛❛ memories, good days, bad days, they'll be with me always. breaking up is never easy i know, but i have to go, knowing me, knowing you it's the best i can do ❞

⚘ suck it and see arctic monkeys ❛❛ how i often wonder where you are, you have got that face that just says 'baby, i was made to break your heart' ❞

⚘ as the world falls down david bowie ❛❛ as the pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you, every thrill has gone, wasn't too much fun at all. but i'll be there for you as the world falls down ❞

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[perinfernum]

Tired - Aether/Swiss

Little bit of too tired boy

SFW, no triggers Word count: 1005

Aether was so tired he was on the verge of breaking down, right there, in the common room, in front of the whole pack. There was nothing he wanted more than for his head to stop hurting, his stomach ache to go away and his mind to calm down. Every muscle in his body was tense, resulting in random shots of pain going through his body. He felt his eyes start to tear up, as he listened to Dew talk about a new movie they should all go and see.

He didn't want any more plans, he didn't want to spend time with his friends. He was exhausted, to the point where it was not possible to explain it to anyone. He tried, he tried talking with Swiss, his boyfriend deeply concerned over how worn out Aether became. But no one understood, and he was alone in all of that once again.

He rubbed his head, sharp pain coming from his right temple.

"Why don't you go lay down?" Swiss quietly suggested, squeezing his thigh.

"I'm fine" Aether said, avoiding his man's gaze, not wanting to break down.

"Honey, go" Swiss softly insisted "I will join you in a minute, I promise"

Aether quietly groaned, his body refusing to get up from the couch he was sitting on. Swiss made eye contact with Mountain, and nodded his head towards the kitchen while mouthing "please". He knew that Earth ghoul would know what he meant. They were talking about Aether's state for some time now, whole pack noticing the changes, yet everyone knew that Aether would come to them once he was ready. It didn't mean they wouldn't try to help him, for example Dew and Rain rushing to move cases after practice or clear the cables, so Aether could leave earlier than normally.

Mountain smiled softly and got up from his chair, going to the kitchen. He started to boil water in order to make some calming tea. While he waited, he decided to make something to eat too, opting for sandwiches, as he didn't know if Aether would be hungry now.

Swiss also got up, learning down to press a kiss to Aether's forehead, before taking his arms and wrapping it around his neck. He then scooped his boyfriend by his thighs, and straightend up holding him close. Aether tried to protest, but if he was to be honest with himself, it felt really nice to be carried and held in warmth of Swiss.

"We're gonna call it a night" Swiss said to the rest of the pack, Aether only hummed in Swiss's neck. He planted a sloopy kiss there, and nuzzled his head even more into the other's body.

They left the room followed by several "Good nights", and just as they approached Swiss's room, Mountain was leaving from there.

"Thank you so much, really" Swiss said smiling at him and Mountain brushed it off.

"No problem man, rest well"

And with that they were alone in the room. Swiss gently placed Aether on the bed, earning a whine of protest.

"You need to eat first baby" Swiss reached over to the nightstand, taking one of the plates.

"Too tired" Aether mumbled, his head swaying lightly.

"My head hurts, I wanna sleep Swiss" he continued, looking his boyfriend in the eye.

"I know, but you didn't eat anything today, and that's not helping" Swiss cupped his cheek and rubbed his hand along it.

"I promise, eat something and we will go to sleep, I can even feed you" he smiled, but Aether chuckled and refused. He took a plate into his own hands, and started eating his sandwich. Suddenly his stomach decided to play games, shooting a sharp pain in his tummy. With a grimace he gave the plate back to Swiss, in exchange receiving a mug with a warm tea. He let his eyes close, enjoying the taste and smell of some herbal tea that Mountain put together. He loved when he made tea, because every time there was something different to it, seeing as Earth ghoul mixed his herbs individually för every person.

He thanked Swiss, as he took an empty mug from Aether.

"Two more minutes" Swiss promised, starting to unbutton Aether's shirt, soon taking of his pants and shoes, leaving him only in his boxers. Aether was too tired to feel self conscious, but as always Swiss kissed him on his chest muttering "pretty".

"Lay down on your stomach" Swiss asked, while getting on the bed. Aether obliged, and soon felt his boyfriend sit over his thighs. Few second later, he felt warm hands on his back, working on his tense muscles, one by one. He could imagine that Swiss's eyes were currently orange, showing that he was tapping into his fire abilities. Soon Swiss's hands moved onto his arms, forearms and hands. Helping him to flip over, to massage his thighs, and chest. He was taking care of every part of Aether's body, relieving most of the pain (he might've also used quintenessence to help him with that). After an hour of Aether enjoying the feeling of being taken care of, Swiss finished, pressing kisses over Aether's tummy.

He looked at his boyfriend with love, feeling lucky to be the one able to relieve some of the tension.

Swiss then laid down next to Aether, moving them so Aether's head was resting on his chest, arm loosely draped over his stomach.

"I love you Aether" he said, kissing his head and pulling him closer.

"Love you too Swiss" Aether squeezed slightly on Swiss's hip.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but I will always be here for you, no matter if you need a full body massage, to talk, or just sit with someone" Swiss said quietly.

And Aether only hummed in agreement, his body and mind too far gone, feeling okay for the first time in months. His brain was at peace, body warm and fuzzy, the pain almost non existent. He fell asleep in few seconds, allowing himself to finally take a rest.

[zer0gone]

Painting a Red Cross On a White Door

Sometimes tragedies are out of our control, even if they’re foreseen.

TW: Blood, gore, mild drug use, death, animal death

> Word count: 6,833

> Wanted to make a fic for Shmorp-mcdurgen’s Alt au. I started this in March.

   All it took was a calm spring day for it all to go wrong.

   Not entirely, Casey knew this was possibly over a week in the making. It was just one day when the pieces finally fell into place.

   Their little brother always tended to run off and do his own thing, that’s just how he was, but he hadn’t been gone for this long before. And with the reports of kids going missing or being found dead, there was cause for concern.

   Casey wondered when they should’ve spoken up.

   Was it when Andy had gone out? It was early enough to see the trail he left in the grass, the dew giving everything a paler tint except where it had been disturbed. The mourning dove coos and gentle breeze made the day seem perfect.

   Was it when their mum had made lunch? It wasn’t unusual for him to skip meals. To any kid his age playing is more important than food. Their mum just shrugged and put Andy’s portion in some Tupperware for him to eat later, like she always did.

   Was it when mid afternoon was reached and they still hadn’t heard anything from him? He did tend to lose track of time, Casey remembered the times they both played in the woods on the property long enough to give their mum a stroke. That always earned them a scolding from their dad.

   Andy couldn’t have lost track of time for that long by himself, but he had been spending the last few days talking to an imaginary friend. When a kid’s imagination gets like that it’s like time doesn’t exist.

   Was it when their mum started calling neighbors, and their dad went out to search the property? They hadn’t seen either of their parents much throughout the day, but they had so many chances to say something. And yet they kept quiet, letting the weight on their tongue keep them from speaking.

   Maybe Casey should’ve said something before today even started.

   Maybe they should’ve mentioned what they saw with the chicken’s bodies. They weren’t just being caught and dragged by some wild animal, animals don’t do all of that and not eat them.

   Maybe they should’ve mentioned when Andy was staying up past his bedtime, saying he just wanted to keep talking to his friend. Some nights he even snuck through the house. Casey could hear more whispers than there should’ve been whenever he passed their door.

   Maybe they should’ve mentioned the things they were hearing inside and outside the house, sounds of things being moved around and calls they couldn’t connect to any animals to.

   It was sunset when their dad returned, their mum had already left for the police station to report Andy missing. She was already tearing up when she left the house, nobody she called were of any help.

   Now she’s probably shrieking at whichever poor soul that was working the front desk. Casey couldn’t blame her, they’d do the same.

   But they aren’t there, they’re at home, sitting on the couch, doing nothing.

   They looked up at the sound of their dad getting up from the dinner table. Looks like he just finished the leftovers. They got a sour taste in their mouth, those were for Andy.

   He walked over to the sink, dropping his fork and turning on the water. Casey could feel the weight on their tongue get heavier. If they said something now it wouldn’t change much, would it? It’d be too late to do anything if what they thought happened was true.

   It didn’t really matter how the chickens were dying anyways, something was still eating them. They didn't know how big it was, nobody had seen it.

   What if it was big enough to consider Andy prey?

   Casey’s stomach dropped. They looked at their dad again.

   He had grabbed the sponge on the counter and was cleaning the Tupperware. He hadn’t made a sound since he’d come back to announce that he hadn’t found anything. 

   Casey’s fingers found the hem of their shorts, messing with the fabric. They swallowed, preparing themself for their dad’s reaction to the question in their mind.

   “Dad?”

   Their dad hummed, still cleaning the container.

   “Do you think… the thing that’s been getting the chickens-”

   They startled at their dad slamming the plastic into the sink. Their anxiety already beginning to spike.

   “Do Not Finish That Sentence Casey,” he said, tense. “We ain’t thinking about that.”

   They looked down at their hands, still on their shorts. They tried to calm down but it didn’t stop the pit forming in their stomach.

   The sound of a car door slamming shut signaled their mum’s return from the station. The sound of gravel crunching quickly changing to the wood of the porch meant she was probably speed walking to the house.

   “Don’t you bring that up to your mom either.” Their dad turned off the sink. “She’s already scared enough”

   Casey swallowed. They felt like they were going to puke.

   The front door opened, their mum practically slapping the keys onto the table next to the door. Casey didn’t look up, they didn’t want to see what state their mum would be in from her visit to the station. Knowing the police’s reputation, she wasn’t told anything good.

   She sped past them to the hallway, they could hear her looking through the cabinet. The rattle of pills told them exactly what she was doing. Casey wished she wouldn't get high right now, this wasn’t the time for it.

   They looked up as she walked to the kitchen, past their dad who had already sat back down at the dinner table.

   “You find anything?” She sounded tired.

   “Is he here?” Their dad gestured to the room. “No? Then there’s your answer”

   “Can you not be like this right now?”

   Their mum turned to the cabinet, opening it and taking out a cup. She put the handful of pills on the counter as she turned on the sink. She sighed.

   “The station wasn’t much help, but at least he’s officially reported” 

   She filled the cup with water and turned off the sink. She turned around, leaning against the counter.

   “Was so close to grabbing that cop’s pretty, white hair and ripping it out. Maybe then they’d spend less time blabbing about protocol and paperwork and actually do something”

   She scooped the pills off the counter, and took them all at once. Lifting the cup to her mouth and drinking. Casey felt both anxious and tired at the sight.

   Their dad huffed.

   “Doing paperwork and following protocol does more than sitting around popping painkillers”

   “Oh really? Like you did anything, how long have you been sitting there? Don’t think I didn’t notice the Tupperware you left in the sink”

   “I told you I didn’t find anything,” their dad growled. “I spent hours going through these woods and all I found was some more chicken corpses”

   Their mum sat for a second, then paled at a realization.

   “Oh god wait, that thing that’s been eating the chickens, what if…” She turned to Casey, making eye contact with them. “What if it got Andy?”

   So much for keeping that thought to themself. 

   “God dammit, we can’t think about shit like that right now!” Their dad raised his voice louder. “How many times do I gotta tell the two of you! Thinking about shit like that gets nothing done!”

   “Sitting on your ass doesn’t get shit done either!” Their mum shrieked. Casey bit their tongue.   Fighting doesn’t get anything done, but if they said that out loud their parents would turn their anger to them. They didn’t want that.   A sound from outside got Casey’s attention.

   “Momma! Help me!”

   Casey felt their throat close up. That was a kid’s voice outside.

   “Hey, mum? Dad? I- I think somebody’s outside” Casey winced at the stutter, hopefully their parents wouldn’t focus on it. 

   They both stopped arguing.

   “Mom! Dad! Help! It hurts!”

   Andy?

   “Mom! Please!”

   There wasn’t any denying it was Andy’s voice but…

   Something felt wrong.

   “Diane wait-”

   Their mum rushed outside, the front door rattling from the force of it hitting the wall.

   Casey stared at the open door.

   “Shit-” their dad sped to the front door. “DIANE, DIANE DON’T JUST RUN OUT THERE”

   They were still staring at the door as he ran out to follow their mum. Something about this whole situation made dread pool in their gut. If he’s hurt, then what hurt him?

   They heard their mum scream.

   “CASEY GET THE GUN!”

   Casey startled at their dad’s yelling, panicking for a second before processing what he said. Their mum was still screaming. Something else was screaming with her.

   They ran into their parents’ room, scrambling to grab the rifle leaned against their mum’s vanity. The metal was cold against their hands. They knew it was already loaded, their dad was always paranoid about situations like this, so he didn’t really care about gun safety.

   They tried not to trip on the carpet as they sprinted back into the living room. Their heart raced as they ran to the front door. 

   They slipped when they turned, panic filling their veins when they almost fell. They can complain about running with socks on wooden floors later, when their mum isn’t in danger and they’re not running with a gun.

   Goosebumps spread across their skin when they finally got outside, the night air chilling them. Casey ran across the porch, trying not to slip again. They could see their dad racing toward them. When did their mum stop screaming?

   “GOD DAMMIT, GIVE ME THE FUCKING GUN ALREADY!” Their dad sounded even more panicked.

   Running down the porch steps they held the rifle out for their dad to grab. Their heart raced as it was pulled out from their grip, their dad already turning around and aiming at-

   Oh god.

   It was too dark to see fully, but there was enough light from the porch to get the picture.

   Something was hunched over their mum, straddling her as it tore at her still body. It was humanoid, clad in dark clothes, but the sight of it latching its teeth into what remained of their mum’s neck screamed otherwise.

   Dark fluid, Casey assumed blood, surrounded the two of them. They watched as it wrenched its head back, the ripping of flesh being loud enough for them to hear from nearly twenty, no, thirty feet away. Its arms moved as it used its claws to tear at their mum’s stomach and chest, blood already covering the areas.

   Casey could barely believe what they were looking at. How long had it been since their mum had ran outside?

   They were brought back at the sound of a gunshot.

   The thing flinched at the sound, turning to their dad as he moved to eject the empty shell casing from the rifle. The lack of it reacting in pain meant that their dad missed, at 20 feet. When did he even get that close? Casey would’ve made fun of their dad’s aim but now was not the time. 

   It scrambled to its feet, running at their dad. Shit he’s too close, he’s not going to have a new bullet in the chamber in time-

   A second gunshot rang out. The thing stumbled, a horrifying wail coming from it.

   Their dad backed away. It’s too close for comfort. He turned around, running towards Casey and the house. One look at him told them he was panicking.

   “GET IN- GET IN THE FUCKING HOUSE,” their dad almost screamed. 

   Casey was already turning to go inside, nearly tripping on one of the steps. When they passed through the front door they turned around.

   The thing was still going after him. The shot didn’t do anything except slow it down for a few seconds.

    It shrieked and cried as it chased him to the house. Casey slammed the door shut as soon as their dad got in, frantically locking the door with the hope that it’d do something. They could hear it get louder and louder the closer it got to the house.

   Their dad turned around and aimed the rifle at the door, his breath still panicked. Casey went away from the door, and out of the way of the gun, as soon as he made eye contact with them. They held their breath as they waited for it to get to the door.

   The image of it mauling their mum kept appearing in their head. They couldn’t wait to see their dad blast the thing’s head off-

   The sound of glass shattering brought their thoughts to a halt. They stared at the living room as they processed what just happened. Shards scattered onto the floor, the thing groaned as it lifted itself from the carpet, it’s breathing ragged.

   It jumped through the window.

   The thing growled as it turned towards the two of them. Its face was… like somebody shoved a horse skull into a human head. Blood covered its elongated teeth, some of it mixing with its spit, dripping onto the carpet.

   Casey was snapped out of their daze when the thing charged their dad, letting out a shriek. They turned and ran into the kitchen, they could hear something slam into the wall during the scuffle. They yelped when a gunshot rang out, crawling into the nearest cabinet. They hoped the sounds of pots being shoved would be ignored.

   They could still hear the fight, backing as far as they could against the wall as they listened to the thing’s screams and their dad’s yells.

   They flinched at the second gunshot, covering their mouth and nose in an attempt to hide their breathing. They heard a loud thunk, followed by a dragging noise that slowly got louder.

   Whoever won had to be in the kitchen now, they could hear their breathing. It had to be their dad, whoever fell was after the gunshot. Casey was hoping he would call out to them, say it’s safe to come out or something.

  Maybe he was processing everything? They wouldn’t blame him, mum’s dead and Andy probably is too. They put their hand on the cabinet door, ready to push it open.

   A squelch made them stop. There was another, and another. They were mixed with tearing sounds. It wasn’t like fabric or paper, it sounded… wet. Dread pooled in their gut.

   Casey put their hand back on the door and began to push it open, bracing themselves for whatever could’ve been on the other side.

   The smell of blood flooded their senses. They fought the urge to gag, they couldn’t risk making any sound. Not while they still don’t know who won. Although with the sounds they were hearing, they might know the answer.

   Casey wanted to puke at the scene before them.

   Their dad was dead, no denying that, the thing that had killed their mum killed their dad too. It was practically feasting on his body, ripping and tearing at anything it could get in its mouth. There was blood splattered everywhere, a pool forming underneath their dad and the thing. 

   They felt like they couldn’t move, like even breathing would bring its attention to them.

   Blood was all over the thing’s uniform, it’s wearing a fucking police uniform, soaking into the fabric and adding to the stains it was already covered in. It had bleached hair that was partially tied back and its hands looked partially elongated. They couldn’t see its face, they didn’t want to. If they could see its face, then it could see them.

   Casey tried to avoid looking at their dad’s face.

   They flinched again when a particularly loud squelch sounded, whatever it was chewing on popping and splattering more blood on the kitchen floor. They needed to sneak out while it was distracted, it’d probably rather go for them when it was done with their dad than go back to their mum.

   Casey began to slowly crawl towards the back door, staying on their feet just in case they needed to run. They tried not to cringe at the feeling of their socks soaking up the splatters of blood that had reached their side of the kitchen.

   They didn’t want to stare at their dad’s body while it was being consumed, but if they wanted to run as soon as it turned around and saw them, they had to. 

   They slowly crawled behind the thing, avoiding the few shards of glass, bullet casing, and the rifle. Shit, it probably caught it in its mouth going off the damage. The metal was partially crushed, it's a miracle the thing fired. Guess they aren’t using that.

   Casey flinched when they heard a loud crunch. It’s probably reached his bones now, is that even an alternate? They doubted it. Alternates didn’t maul people like wild animals.

   They were almost to the door, deciding to go just a little further to get the dinner table between it and them. If it detected them it’d struggle over or under the chairs and table, and that would give them important seconds to get away.

   They glanced at the thing, still feasting on their dad. God they hoped they could get out of this alive, maybe they would’ve had better chances of surviving if they stayed inside the cabinet. Maybe if they-

   A loud clack sounded from a chair their leg bumped into. Their stomach dropped, their lungs stopped working. The thing stopped eating. It quickly turned around and made eye contact with them, blood dripping from its maw.

   As soon as it began to move Casey bolted to the back door. Thanking god and their dad’s habit of leaving it unlocked, they swung it open as fast as they could without letting go. They heard the thing practically yowl and its teeth snap as they ran out, slamming the door shut behind them. 

   They didn’t look back, they refused to look back, as they ran into the woods on the property. They could still hear the thing as it started wailing again.

   Maybe they should’ve slowed down when the wails became fainter, letting the sounds of the leaves crunching under their feet and the wind in their ears become the only things they could hear. They kept running, they couldn't risk it.

   A feeling of something quickly sliding over their foot is the only warning they got. 

   Something yanked on their ankle, hard. Falling hands, then face, first into the forest floor, their eyes teared up as stinging pain bloomed all over.

   They whimpered at the pain on their tongue and ankle. The fall had made them scrape their hands on the small rocks and dirt, blood already leaking from one of them. Their jaw slamming into the ground had made them bite their tongue. They looked down at their legs, both knees being irritated, but the problem was the snare trap that was wrapped around and digging into their ankle.

   Tears welled into their eyes as they tried to move their ankle. Pain pulsed through their foot and up their leg.

   Casey felt like an idiot. Finally remembering the snares their dad has set up to catch whatever was killing the chickens. They’d helped set the damn things, but they still forgot.

   They couldn't take it anymore. Their body shook as tears ran down their face, trying to cry quietly. They quickly turned into sobs.

   What were they crying over? Casey didn’t know. They were stuck in a snare, they were chased by some fucking thing, their mum and dad were mauled, Andy was missing and probably dead.

   They knew something weird was going on!

   They could hear Andy talking to something.

   They knew it wasn’t an imaginary friend, they could hear its voice.

   They knew it was going into the house and moving things around, they could hear its footsteps.

   They knew the chickens were being killed by someone, they saw the three with broken necks tucked away near the garage. They hadn't even been eaten by anything.

   Why didn’t they say anything! Their dad would’ve at least believed the chicken one, they were right there!

   Casey curled into themself as they sobbed, they wished this was another fucked up nightmare. That they’d wake up and everything would be normal. Andy wouldn’t be missing, their mum and dad wouldn’t be dead, and they wouldn’t have to worry about the thing that killed them both being real.

   They didn’t hear the leaves rustling at first, crunching as something stepped closer. When they did, over their own sniffles and sobs, they tried their hardest to silence themself. But all they could manage was turning their cries into stuttered gasps, lungs spasming from the effort.

   They did their best to stay still as whatever approached got closer. They could hear its breathing at this point, or was that their own? They couldn’t tell.

   Casey closed their eyes as it seemed to finally get to them, knowing their breathing was still too erratic to go undetected. The leaves crunched and shifted behind them, they prayed that whatever it was it’d leave them alone.

   A hand touching their side made them scramble onto their hands and knees, breathing through their teeth as the stinging worsened. They needed to get away, they needed to run-

   The snare tugged on their ankle, reminding them why they were on the ground in the first place. They glanced back at it, more tears forming in their eyes, and noticed a hand, clad in a black fingerless glove, holding the snare wire. Their eyes followed the arm, wanting to know who was keeping them from being able to at least get a few feet further.

   Dread pooled in Casey’s stomach as the arm just seemed to keep going. It was longer than their dad was tall, and was bent at several points, as if it was full of joints. A second arm with the same features was near it. 

   If that didn’t confirm it wasn’t human, finally processing the rest of it did.

   It had ripped jeans that didn’t reach its ankles, probably cause its legs were in a similar state to its arms. Its shoes were worn down black sneakers and a black hoodie with yellow letters where the breast pocket would be, they read ‘BPS’. Casey felt like they’d heard of that before.

   Its neck was long, too long, and it had a point in the middle that looked broken. It had blonde curls on its head, cut in what they guessed was an undercut. 

   Finally making eye contact with it, it smiled. 

   “Hey,” it spoke gently, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

   Its face looked wrong. Its smile was too wide, borderline baring its teeth. Each pupil was blown wide, nearly taking up the eye. If Casey squinted they could see white dots in the middle of them. They felt wrong looking at-

   Did it just fucking talk?

   Panicked, they kicked their leg at the hand holding the wire, mind filled with a mantra of ‘what the fuck’.  

   That was quickly ended by it grabbing their other leg. It dragged them towards it, mouth closing but still smiling. Their stomach lurched as they were lifted off the ground.

   Casey clawed at the forest floor, blood from their palm mixing with the dirt. They were raised just high enough to barely touch the ground beneath them, only able to scrape at the soil with their fingertips.

   “I said I wasn’t gonna hurt you,” it sounded less friendly. “How hard is that to understand?”

   Casey wanted to snap back, but the throbbing in their tongue from when they ate shit had them not wanting to speak. This… noodle thing was already upset with them too, they didn’t want to make it mad. Why was its voice familiar?

   Looking back up at it, Casey saw that it had craned its neck down to them. Probably to get a better look at their face. It showed its teeth again when it noticed it regained contact with them. 

   “Hey” 

   “... hi” 

   Why did they respond? This thing clearly isn’t human, why are they entertaining it?

   “What’s your name? Mine’s Adam”

   “... Casey”

   Its- Adam’s smile somehow got wider as it raised them higher. They were getting woozy from being upside down already. They could feel the snare lightly tugging on their leg.

   “What’s got you so scared? You’re really freaked out”

   Why is its voice so familiar?

   It looked Casey up and down, pausing at their feet. They wondered why it was staring before they realized. Their socks were still bloodstained. Adam chuckled.

   “Ohhhh, you did something didn’t you? You did something you weren’t supposed to,” it giggled.

   Casey heaved, their head swam. They didn’t want to cry again but it wasn’t wrong. The still fresh memories of their mum and dad being mauled flashed in their head. They caused this, or at least didn’t try to stop it when they could’ve. Everyone was-

   “Hey! I know you can still hear me. What’s going on in there?” It tilted its head again, craning its neck lower.

   Okay they’re getting sick of being upside down. Bending their other leg, they took a second to aim, and kicked it in the side of the head as hard as they could.

   Pain exploded in their ankle, the snare snapped even tighter around their leg. It made a startled sound, dropping them on the ground. Casey was sure they heard its neck crack, or it could’ve been one of their joints. They weren’t paying too much attention.

   They scrambled onto their knees and away from it as it seemed to stumble. They didn’t really kick that hard, maybe they caught it by surprise?

   “OW! What the hell! What was that for?” it shouted, clearly upset.

   Casey flattened themself on the ground, trying to get the lightheaded feeling from being upside down to go away. They didn’t care if it was mad at them, if it didn’t want them to lash out, maybe it shouldn’t have held them up in the air.

   They stuck their tongue out at it, ignoring the fact that they just licked the ground.

   “Andy was so much nicer than you, he let me pick him up all the time”

   Wait a fucking minute.

   “You… What do you mean..?” 

   Their lungs felt heavy, head still swimming from being upside down. 

   Adam cocked its head at them, smile spreading across its face as it leaned forward on its arms. Are they supposed to even call them arms? It used them more like legs.

   “Andy! You live in the same house as him, right?”

   Casey pushed themself off the ground, moving to sit on their knees. Their hands still stung, but they ignored them. This thing knew Andy.

   “Yeah…” Casey could feel dots connecting in their head but still couldn’t figure out how they had heard its voice before. Maybe this is an alternate and it’s mimicking a voice-

   Holy fucking shit.

   Holy Fucking Shit.

   “YOU- YOU WERE IN THE HOUSE.” They heard a bird startle and fly off from a nearby tree. “YOU WERE TALKING TO HIM”

   “I was!” it spoke like it was admitting to something amazing, and not breaking into their house to play with their little brother. Then again this thing probably thought that was something amazing.

   The two of them fell into silence. Casey couldn’t figure out what else to say and Adam seemed to be okay with just watching them think. Maybe… If it was spending time with Andy, maybe it knows where he went. They made eye contact with it again.

   “Do… do you know where he is?”

   “No, I don’t.” he frowned. It looked so wrong on his face, Casey would pay money to not have him do that again. “He ran off a while ago and I haven’t seen him since.”

   Casey felt themself wilt at that. If Andy’s secret noodle friend didn’t know where he was, then he definitely was lost. Adam tilted its head again, staring at Casey.

   “I have an idea” it tilted its head the other direction. “We could play a game, maybe that could cheer you up?”

   “I- okay,” Casey sighed. Cheering them up won’t help but it’s clearly not human, might as well hear this thing out.

   “How about, hmmm… tag? I count down and you run, doesn't that sound fun?”

   “That’s hide and seek”

   “Same thing, are you gonna play or not?”

  Casey was quiet for a moment, weighing their options. If they refused, he'd probably just keep manhandling and hurting them, since it's not like they can run with this snare on their ankle. But if they play his game, they have a good chance of getting away, and maybe even finding Andy.

   “Yeah, I’ll play,” they pulled their leg out from underneath themselves, reaching for the wire around it.

   Just looking at their ankle told them that running wasn’t going to be enjoyable. Casey was surprised it wasn’t bleeding, but the bruises were already forming. The welt stung in the cold air.

   Adam pulled on the snare again, when’d he grab it? He was surprisingly gentle as he reached for their ankle with his other hand-

  Casey yelped as he yanked their leg up, forcing them back to the ground, the wire tight around their ankle again. They take back the gentle thought. Adam giggled. Jackass.

    “Rules are easy,” he pulled on the slide, loosening the snare.  “I count down from twenty, you run. Make it to the road and I’ll let you go, don’t make it, and I can do whatever I want, okay?”

   He pulled the wire loop off of their ankle.

   “If I’m feeling nice I’ll even help look for Andy.” Adam let go of their leg, letting it drop to the ground. Casey pushed themselves up to stand. Their legs wobbly from the earlier running and then sitting on the ground.

   “Okay,” they turned toward Adam. “How are we doing this?” Its face stretched into a wide smile.

    “Twenty… nineteen… eighteen-”

   Casey didn’t wait any longer to get the message. Turning away from Adam and bolting. They pushed their body to go as fast as it could, doing their best to ignore the worsening pain in their ankle.

   It surprised them how they still had the energy to run like this, leaping over roots and weaving between trees. If they weren’t running for what they assumed is their life, they’d relish in how wild and free they felt.

   Rocks and branches stabbed into their feet, their lungs stung from the cool night air. Their limbs already stung at the exertion, they could feel something wet starting to drip down their leg. They could deal with that later.

   “READY OR NOT!” Adam’s voice echoed through the trees. That was not twenty seconds, bastard. They could hear maniacal laughter that was already getting louder.

   Andy played with this thing? This shit is terrifying!

   Running through the forest, Casey was quickly realizing how hard it is to both run in a straight line while also weaving through trees to lose Adam. This thing was fast, they might not stand a chance.

   They noticed a particularly thick area of underbrush. That could work. 

   Casey’s ankle protested as they took a sharp left. They felt air rush behind them as Adam zoomed past them. It was much closer than they thought it was.

   They ducked their head lower as they reached the denser foliage, avoiding the larger branches. If this worked then they can get more distance between them and Adam. 

   Refusing to look back and see if it was slowed down, they kept running. Casey was quickly realizing how this path affected them too. The large amount of plants and lower hanging branches kept snagging on their shirt, some branches breaking off and trying to hang on their clothes before falling.

   Casey’s vision was already starting to blur. What happened? They were running just fine earlier. They chose to try to ignore it.   The underbrush was already becoming less dense. Both a good and bad thing. They hoped Adam struggled through it. They could barely hear it now, but they wanted to be completely unable to hear it.

   They finally got out, one more branch hitting their now bleeding knee. They inhaled from the pain, but kept running. They’re not slowing down just yet.

   The area after was much clearer, only making them have to leap over a few roots and uneven ground. Casey was gaining distance here, they couldn’t hear Adam anymore. The only sounds they were hearing were their own footsteps, breathing, and the wind in their ears.

   Their stomach dropped when their foot slipped on a tree root, everything else following.

   They tried not to yelp when they fell. Their legs were so sore, they could feel the muscles under their skin spasming as they collapsed. Shit, shit- why now? Why now for the sudden muscle weakness? They hadn’t been running that much had they?

   Casey winced as they put their arms out in front of them, their already scraped and bloody palms exploding in pain. The impact made their jaw clack, spit dripping out of their mouth. They abruptly inhaled, bringing a glob of saliva down their throat.

   Pain filled everything, making their body quiver as they choked on their spit. Feeling it run out of their mouth and run down their chin as they gasped for air. They pushed themself to sit on their knees.

   They leaned back, tilting their head upwards and putting their hand behind them for support. They felt something boney and wet under their fingers. They snapped their head back to look at it.

   Oh that’s gross. Casey had accidentally put their hand on another dead chicken, looking at her told them she had been here for a little while. They fight the urge to throw up as the sight of the maggots wriggling through what remained of her flesh and internal organs. They still heave.

   Her neck had been broken, but there were no signs of her having been eaten in any way. They scooted away from the corpse. They didn’t need to worry about that right now.

   They reached up with the hand that hadn’t touched the chicken and wiped the tears off their face. They looked up again, trying to breathe more clearly. God their ankle hurt. Goosebumps formed as they heard something moving through the brush.

   Shit, Adam was already near, and they’re making a lot of noise.

   They could hear it moving through the forest, bushes and branches shifting as it pushed past them. Casey could hear its steps getting louder as it got closer. 

   Fuck, shit, SHIT. Casey felt dread pool in their gut, panic making their lungs stutter. Something about Adam winning made them afraid.

   Looking around for something- anything to defend themself, Casey saw a stone in the dirt. That could work. They didn’t give a shit about playing fair anymore. This is terrifying and they don’t want to know what happens when they get caught.

   Casey clawed at the dirt around the stone, pulling it out of the ground as soon as it was loose enough. It was bigger than they anticipated but they didn’t really have too many other options. They’ll use what they can get. 

   The sounds of Adam sprinting through the foliage got louder as it approached.

  Their dad showed them how to deal with coyotes that were trying to get into the chicken coop when they were younger, hopefully there’s nothing wrong with using that now.

   “Caught you!” Adam’s voice was distorted, like there were multiple speaking at once through a radio. It looked insane, the laughter coming from it sounding deranged. It surged forward, trying to grab them.

   Casey didn’t wait for it to grab them, throwing the rock as hard as they could at its face. They were rewarded with a sickening crack as the stone hit Adam’s neck instead. It recoiled violently and screamed. Casey pushed themself to stand while it was recovering.

   Their legs were shaking but at least they were working now. Stumbling and nearly tripping over more exposed roots and uneven terrain, they pushed themself to run as fast as they could again. 

   “You’re so mean!” Adam yelled. Casey could tell they were gaining distance from how quiet it was compared to seconds earlier.

   Burning filled their lungs as they strained them again. They heaved again, more spit running out of their mouth and down their chin. Adam probably won’t be slowed down for long. Their vision blurred.

   Casey didn’t know how much longer they could keep running. How big is their family’s property?

   They noticed a gap in the trees ahead, where the ground was grey and sand colored gravel instead of the normal soil of the forest floor. 

   There! The road! Just a little more and they can make it!

   Their body screamed at them to stop running. Everything burned. But they’re so close to winning, just a little further.

   Their legs buckled again when they stepped into the ditch next to the road. The unkempt grass made the ground look not as low as it actually was. They could feel the sharp stickers and seeds try to stab into and stick to their skin.

   Casey nearly collapsed when they felt the gravel stabbing through their socks and  into their feet. They won. They leaned down on their knees, trying to get more air into their lungs. The blood all over their hand and knee was still leaking but had mostly dried.

   Reaching up with their hand they wiped the spit that had collected off their chin and neck. They stood there for a few seconds. If they sat down now they won’t be able to get up. Looking left and right only showed them the road stretching onward.

   Now what?

   Maybe they could walk to town? Yeah, they can walk to town. There’s more people there, and the police station. They can go there, maybe they’ll help.

   They chose a direction and began walking, ignoring their sore limbs except their ankle. Not gonna make any progress if they stand around doing nothing.

   Casey heard something walking through the leaves behind them. Turning to look, they watched Adam emerge from the tree line. It was silent, staring directly at them. They stood still, watching it approach them before stopping about five feet away.

   They swallowed the lump in their throat. Adam was probably mad at them about the rock.   “I won.” Casey was surprised their voice was audible, after today they might just not speak again. Silence stretched between them. They turned and started walking along the road again. 

   “You were mean,” Adam finally spoke. They could hear the gravel crunching as it began to follow them.   “You were mean first.” A shoddy excuse, but Casey really didn’t want to know what would’ve happened if they lost. They kept walking.

   “Where are you going?” They tried not to jump when Adam’s voice sounded so close so suddenly. The thing had craned its neck down to get closer to their ear. Looking at it now it seemed like the stone hadn’t done much if any damage to its neck.

   “The police station, dunno what they’ll do but hopefully I’ll be taken care of.” Having to report their own parents’ deaths won’t be fun. They’re technically homeless now too, maybe they could move in with one of their cousins. The foster system doesn’t sound fun.

   They flinched as something brushed against their injured ankle before it was clasped by a gloved hand. Casey looked down to see that Adam had grabbed their leg and began to squeeze, hard. They yelped and tried to pull their ankle out of its grip. Adam pulled in response, bringing Casey down and knocking their head on the gravel below.

   Casey thrashed when it kept pulling them towards himself. its other arm snaked underneath them and tried to wrap around their body as it lifted them off the ground. They bit and scratched as it slowly coiled its arm around them, its other joining after it ensured it wasn’t going to drop them.

   Tears began to pool in their eyes as Adam smiled down at them.

   “I won!” they screamed, “You said you’d let me go if I beat your game!”

   Adam giggled. It squeezed them as its hands slowly snaked up to their head. Casey’s breathing quieted down as its hands almost gently cradled their jaw.

   They stared into this thing’s eyes as he readjusted his hands, trying to get the perfect position.

   Adam looked into their eyes, before smiling so wide its face seemed to nearly split in half, its grip on their neck abruptly tightening and-

.   .   .

   The body of a 12 year old child had been found on the side of a rural road in Mandela County. Cause of death appears to be a broken neck. Police are still investigating the incident.

[justjessame]

Light Through the Darkness: Chapter 47

Abigail was pressed against Damon’s chest, the lights off, their breathing finally evening out after HOURS of taking every single thing that they’d both waited decades to taste. She’d known, after reading the grimoire, after finding the key hidden in the words of the book her parents had left behind, under the intricately drawn pictures, the truth of her nature. Of their nature. Of what Damon and she were, of what they would be, of what they could be.

She’d read, in her parents’ book, in her family history about what her blood could do in the wrong body. Katherine’s, for instance, was the wrong body. It would force a purge. Taste like rot and death and bring up bile and blood that should have been long digested. In a body that was given permission to taste her blood, however, an important distinction, then subtle changes would take place. Over time, over multiple drinks, the changes grew and became permanent.

“Abigail Morgan,” she bit her lip at the sound of his voice, a voice that she would know across time and distance. “Don’t ever leave me again.” Smiling, tired and content, she drifted off, letting the words go, even though they weren’t quite right. Somehow.

In dreams, it’s said, the truth rises to the surface. Perhaps she read that in her family’s history, Abigail thought, trying desperately to make sense of what she was watching take place before her very eyes. A scene that looked familiar, yet so utterly foreign that it was a balancing act that could have been rendering her apart at the seams as she witnessed it.

Damon, the very man whose arms she lay cradled in in the real world, standing in the darkness on a bridge she knew vaguely from the trips that Alaric had taken her on to familiarize her with the town she had lived in once upon a time, but that had grown without her for so long. He was speaking to Elena, so like Katherine in appearances that Abigail’s first reaction was to recoil and wish herself awake, but the subtle differences pulled her closer instead. The softness where one had been sharper, a kindness that shined through even in this clear memory from some other time.

“You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure, and even a little danger.” Abigail’s heart clenched at the sound of his voice, the same tone she’d once hoped he’d use with her. The knowing way a lover would speak to another, of hopes and dreams. “I want you to get everything you’re looking for. But for right now,” was she imagining the slight catch, the yearning and the pain she heard? “I want you to forget that this happened.”

Damon woke alone, arms empty, bed cold. If not for the lingering scent of her, of Abigail Morgan, he’d have thought he’d dreamt it. The taste of her still lingered on his tongue, but he could even convince himself that that too was a fevered imaging. Her warmth, her perfume? Those weren’t something he could fake. Right?

Abigail took the time it took to walk back to the hotel to think about what she’d allowed herself to give into with Damon. What she’d naively embraced with the dream of her mother and the history that the book unlocked. Her parents had created a perfect storm by not telling her anything about where they came from, what they were, or what was coming, but they felt they could mettle after their deaths. That seemed fair.

As dawn crested, the beams spearing across the land, streaking through the dew and creating a sight that she’d not often been awake to appreciate, Abi considered what precisely she would do going forward. Damon Salvatore was NOT her soulmate. How could he be when he so clearly wanted to be with another, or one of a set? Taking a moment to stop and remove the gorgeous, but less than comfortable for long treks heels, she contemplated her other visitor. The dark haired handsome man who’d come to her before, in person during her grief when her parents’ had died. Who was he? And why did it seem like he might be a key to far more than just a memory?

Cool, damp grass slid between her toes and she sighed at the simpleness of it. A joy she couldn’t recall taking pleasure in last. Wiggling her toes, she looked down and sighed. Raised and reared to be a wife, in a time when it would have been terrible for a young woman to be out alone, wearing what she was wearing, much less looking at a future on her own. Perhaps I’ll get a cat, she thought, shaking her head and starting forward not batting an eyelash when a fluffy black feline sauntered out of the brush as she made her way toward the town proper. Why not? Am I not a witch?

The cat, Abigail studied it as it stared back, slunk into her room behind her with no concern for any rules the hotel might have for animals. Its bright green eyes were ringed with blue and Abi found herself talking to the beast, and then catching herself doing it berating herself for the insanity. She had appointments to keep, and a house to move into, after making certain that the furniture she’d marked for removal from her former home was carefully relocated to her new abode.

Cat, since she had not a singular clue what to call the furry tagalong, seemed content to sun itself in the window of her suite as she went about her business. Money, she’d been happy to find, still greased all the wheels to get things running smoothly. Movers were found with the bank’s help, assurances made that her family’s heirlooms would be kept in pristine condition as they made the short trip from one house to the other. While Abigail finalized paperwork and plans, a knock sounded on her door and she took a beat to center herself, in case it was Damon who came to force himself back into the narrative.

“Ric,” her smile came as easily as his name. “What a happy surprise.” Standing back so he could enter, she heard his small inhale at the sight of her new roommate. “I see you’ve met Cat.”

“Cat?” His lips were quirking as the onyx coated fluffy being barely batted an eye. “I would have thought you had more creativity than that, Abi.”

“It followed me home,” she shrugged, a foreign gesture, but one that seemed apt for this new world she found herself in. “I haven’t had time to ponder a better one, and it seems to agree to it.”

“It’s asleep,” Ric countered, stepping closer to the furry disk. “I could call it ‘Spot’ and it would go with it.” Shaking his head he turned back to her. “How’ve you been?”

Abigail considered his question from where it came from, a concerned friend. “I could be worse.” Biting her lip, she let out a breath that she suddenly felt like she’d been holding for hours. “I had dinner with Damon.” Ric’s nod told her what she suspected, which was that very little was unknown in Mystic Falls. “We spent the night together and I came home alone.” The truth, more or less. “The movers are telling me I could be moved into my house by the end of the week.” A change of subject seemed more than appropriate.

“That -” Ric ran a hand through his hair and inhaled deeply. Eyes narrowed as if he were trying to pick a thread from what Abi had tossed out, but he wasn’t having luck at it, he sighed and took a seat. “How are you so -” Lips pursed he gestured at her from top to bottom.

Abigail’s head dropped and she chuckled. Oh, that, she thought. How was she not like those women on the television, screaming and blaming everyone for the wrongs done them? Moping or crying, pleading with God or the world for more or less? “I thought you said you taught history,” she offered instead, taking her own seat and meeting his gaze. “Surely you know how I was raised, Alaric.”

Falling back into the easy comradery she had with Ric, the way they could tease and talk, was balm for her wounded pride and the hole she’d created by leaving Damon behind. And why shouldn’t Abigail fill it with someone new? Hadn’t Damon Salvatore filled his cracks with others even before she’d gotten lost to time? While Ric told her about the travails of working as a high school history teacher in a town like Mystic Falls, Abigail Morgan wondered if perhaps, maybe she should enjoy a time that neither of her parents could have fathomed when they set her life on the path they pushed her down before escaping to the afterlife. A time where women could dress as they wished, modesty be damned, and when they could choose to sit in a room with a bed, alone with a man who wasn’t family, without a chaperone without a single worry to be had.

[violetlens]

i like to think the ghoulettes + ghouls keep a sibling around just to taunt, getting off on the fear they keep getting consumed by from not knowing whether or not they plan on killing them tonight

murder ghouls, current ghoulettes + swiss + aether centric, dark content obviously, gn oc, no real traits except for (randomly generated sibling of sin) working out and not being stupid 800 words

swiss had been the one to get the rest of the pack on board, talking about how he wanted a challenge, someone who wasn't so easy for a change.

the sibling they'd picked out wasn't weak, not in any useful way. they were too alert, too much time spent in the gym, too much of them knowing when not to let themselves be alone in a room. the pack enjoyed it nonetheless, seeing the way they'd whip their head around before scurrying somewhere safe, or even the way they'd struggle against a hand holding them down, on their neck, their wrists.

mountain made his attempt first, giving up nearly instantly as he watched them take a few steps closer to a flower he'd sprouted before taking a second look at it and deciding to head back into the abbey. rain, phantom, and dew initially took it as a challenge, quickly growing annoyed with how the sibling they'd picked out started avoiding them. they'd taken to putting one of the emeritus brothers or another sibling between them and whoever had been 'wanting to catch up with them'.

they'd always somehow inch themselves towards a room with people in it when they'd see violet in their periphery, whenever the ghoulettes sounded a bit too tempting to them. swiss would spend his nights frustrated whenever they'd turn on their heel back out of their room upon seeing something left for them in their bed, whenever he'd realize they'd cozied up with another sibling or papa for that night.

aether had given up on trying to get them alone a couple days into stalking them, when he drew them into his bed with his quintessence, went to sink his teeth into their shoulder, and got bitten back hard enough to draw blood. he drew back quickly, hand coming up to the bite on his neck as they sent a small, shaky smile back up at him, licking crimson from their teeth before rolling out of his bed and quickly making their way out.

swiss experienced that the exact same night, moaning frustratedly into a kiss aether had pulled him into before going off to follow the source of that taste. he followed them to the gym, heart pounding slightly faster in his chest whenever they'd increase their strides a bit, heading further away from him.

he'd used some of his own quintessence, only enough to raise some doubt in their mind. swiss smiled eagerly when he was met with a shaky, 'that isn't a good idea,' before making his way over to the pull up bar they were hanging from and kissing them. he gave a small gasp when he tasted them before feeling his mood plummet when they opened their eyes, begrudgingly turned their head, pulled away, and walked past him and out of the room.

cumulus would follow them more than anyone else, licking over her fangs in excitement at how they'd keep looking over their shoulder, would make a sudden turn into a different room upon feeling a gust of wind that wasn't meant to be there. she and cirrus would sing sometimes, taking delight in the way they'd rear back, terror gracing their features for a bit before they'd wrench themselves away from any danger.

cirrus knew they'd leave the ghouls too soon for them to actually have a chance at harming them. she liked to hunt with cumulus, always using their voices and air magic to lure the siblings to their deaths. she tried it again tonight, closing the doors to the chapel and creating gusts of wind, loud enough that they hurried out only to be met with cirrus on the other side of the doors. she basked in the few seconds of horror she could smell in their scent before they uttered a low, 'excuse me,' smiled, and brushed past her.

sunshine would toy with them, get closer in terms of stalking. she'd feel the joy knifing through her as they'd let her crowd them, smiling back at her before stepping to her side and leaving. they'd always mention how much they wanted to hear her voice as they walked towards the door, choosing not to hide the slight tremor in their hands.

aurora was the only one who got to cut them, even if she knew it was with the promise of them being able to walk out of that room. her heart pounded in her chest, excited shudders wracking her frame as she watched them work their habit down enough to bare their neck.

she settled in their lap, fangs sinking into their neck before she started drinking. she'd smile into their throat whenever she'd feel a muscled thigh bump up against her, whenever their hips would twitch upwards in search of her. aurora would whimper whenever she'd taste the beginnings of fear leaking into their blood, pressing their bodies closer together as her eyelids would flutter.

aurora would let them go as soon as she'd begin to feel herself yearn for more, for the feeling of their heartbeat weakening. one of the girls, occasionally swiss, mountain, or aether, would kiss it out of her mouth later, lick her teeth clean as both of them would groan at the taste bursting over their tongues.

[multifandomfix]

The Spell You Cast - Severus Snape

Summary: The smell of Amortentia can change over time. And while teaching, Severus notices a difference in his own. Yet the new scent is familiar to him. Where has he smelled it before?

Word Count: 1,028

Warnings: A little light angst

Amortentia was perhaps the potion Severus most disliked. He didn’t even know why it was taught to students. To teach them patience and discipline, he supposed, since it took so long to brew. But he was of the opinion that love should not be manufactured, but freely given. Messing with one's heart was asking for trouble. And he’d not known any use of the vile potion to work out well in the end for any of its brewers, nor its victims. Best to keep away from it, and so he did. At least until he had to teach how it was made.

Amortentia's only positive quality, should you ask him, was its scent. It often induced pleasant smells that brought back beautiful memories to whomever deigned to take a whiff, but that aside, it held no other value to him. His had always smelled the same, and the memories attached to it were bittersweet on his best day.

The students were moderately well behaved when class begun, only a stray snide comment and a few snickers at the announcement of brewing the vexing love potion. He could have easily shut it down quickly with a stern word, but he didn’t altogether care what their opinions were on the potion itself, only on getting the lesson of its making over with.

As he brewed his own as an example, he felt like he could already smell the familiar scent bubbling up from the cauldron. Yet, as his demonstration progressed, he could have sworn the scent he knew so well had changed. It was subtle at first, lilies changing to another indistinct floral note. Fresh morning dew to vanilla. And tea. The scent of tea was brand new to him, at least where his amortentia was concerned.

He hoped his expression had remained neutral, despite the surprise. He’d not brewed the potion since last year, and perhaps he’d mistaken an ingredient. Unlike him, but everyone was prone to a slip up now and then, surely. If his face had registered any surprise, thankfully the students thought it best not to question it nor comment upon it, and he was left to his own devices at the end of the class period to figure out what had gone awry.

He’d checked his method and it was flawless as was expected. So that meant it was the potion itself that had changed its scent. But how, and when. He couldn’t fathom the reason for such a change after all these years. It wasn’t as if his tastes had changed. How perplexing.

Choosing to relegate the oddity to the back of his mind for the time being, Severus went about his day as was normal for him. Several more classes took up his day, and he remained thankful that only one class was working on the dreaded amortentia this semester. He didn’t think he could stand smelling the new fragrance of his own several more times that day.

Somehow, the smell lingered in his nostrils throughout the day, as if it were nagging him. It did smell familiar to him, but he’d been so struck by its difference to what he’d come to expect that he hadn’t realized the smell was indeed one he encountered fairly often. Where remained the only question.

He thought of his favorite shop, and the place on the Hogwarts campus that he most enjoyed, though neither of these locations possessed the smell that plagued him so. The people he spent the most time with, and those that he enjoyed the company of were ruled out as well. Minerva was more of an old books and catnip type.

The stern look of frustration mixed with concentration on Severus' face stopped you short as you were en route to pass him in the hallway. It was so terribly unlike him to linger in the halls when students were still passing through. You knew something must have been wrong. "Severus," you softly pressed. You reached your hand out in order to rest it on his shoulder, but instead you hovered, thinking better of it. You felt you were already likely to startle him.

Though he did not jump, he slowly met your eyes, bringing his own out of the middle distance he’d been apparently staring into prior to your arrival. "Are you alright," you asked of him.

"Quite so," he replied. He was not displeased to see you, but you were an unexpected surprise since he hadn’t seen you coming. "It has been an odd day is all," he confessed.

You nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile. "We all have those," you reassured, now placing your hand on his shoulder, thinking the reassurance would mean more with the gesture. You’d definitely had your fair share of days like that, and though it seemed out of place for Severus to have such a day, it stood to reason that he had them just as frequently as you yourself did, he just had a better way of hiding it when he did. Except for today, apparently.

Confident that he wasn’t in some form of distress that was unmanageable, you gave him one more soft smile and took your leave, heading for your classroom before your own students wondered what had kept you from arriving on time.

As you left, the small gust of wind in your wake left Severus with that same smell of tea, vanilla and flowers, precisely the way his amortentia now smelled. Eyes widening at the realization, he turned his head in your direction. It had indeed been last year when you’d started teaching at Hogwarts, filling in for a professor who had taken some leave and that was shortly after his last time brewing the potion. In that year, he’d fallen in love with you.

It was the only logical explanation. It was a frightening one to him, the prospect of finding someone again after everything that had happened all those years ago with Lily, but maybe his amortentia did have a use to him. It let him realize his feelings for you. And now it was up to him to decide if it was worth pursuing them.

For anon

Forever Tag: @borg-queer, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul

Severus Snape: @brienneseveruscalaway, @osterhagen, @darkthought15, @superninjapervert420, @meeksmusic83, @whither-the-wind-goes, @bluenystic, @sapphicprinc3ss, @eternal-silvertongued-prince, @demented-potions-master, @unexpected-character, @yourdailymemedelivery, @impulse-anchor, @ppgrayson, @thegirlwhoistrying, @bloodinthedarksworld, @gothtrash6969, @music-bird, @severusish, @chaotic-mushroomz, @caseydoodles98, @iciclesandsnow, @thenazwife, @phantomofclownery, @animeloverfreak310, @alloutnostalgia, @m-rae23, @asocialrandom, @404-its-alr, @beyondgaby, @scarlettmal

[belit0]

Hey, can you write Indra + size kink + cockworship + nasty cum stuff ?? Sorry, i'm hungry for that man

Sorry this took me SO FUCKING LONG omfg

No need to be sorry, I’m as hungry as you. I haven’t written smut in a while, so bear with me, I’m getting back at it:,(

Tw: Indra knows nothing about communication

When Indra enters the house, the sun has already set. He looks drained, tired. It’s been days since he started wearing his hair loose, devoid of his usual ponytail, and it only helps to make him look more massive than he is.

His steps are heavy as he heads to the bedroom, and when he looks at you with those expressionless serious eyes, you know he won’t be eating dinner today either. That’s okay, you’re not used to spending time together as a normal couple anyway, and you know you’d feel weird if he actually sat down with you and joined you for a meal.

His form disappears down the corridor and you know he has found the way to bed, seeking comfort from the adversities of the day. His shadow is dragged across the walls by the candlelight, and for a moment, it looks like the demon everyone says he is.

But of course, you know better than to believe those ridiculous tales.

It’s been months since this man appeared in your village, a place led by a poor wretch who was trying his best to get his people ahead. Only a few enjoyed good fortune, privilege, and wealth, and you were not one of them. Life before Indra, here, was based on working hard for pennies, finding food wherever possible, wearing the same clothes repeatedly for lack of more garments. Poverty was rampant among almost the entire village population, and despite the leader’s best efforts, nothing seemed to work for the betterment of the situation.

But a mysterious man with long hair and thick shoulders, tattooed eyes, impressive physique compared to the famine-stricken people... left everyone captivated. With just a couple of suggestions and commands, things turned around, and the outlook brightened for everybody. This mysterious man quickly rose in the hierarchical power of the village, and the current leader ended up giving up his place.

Indra became their ruler overnight, and hopes for the future of the town seemed to grow stronger and stronger again.

Town expansion was inevitable, welcoming visitors and travelers intrigued by the legends of this man who brought fortune to a doomed place. Enemies were also unavoidable. The Otsutsuki defended and used all his power to prevent the destruction of the foundations he had built with so much effort, leaving everyone terrified in his steps.

His red eyes became stories used by mothers to frighten disobedient children, his violet beast traveled on the tongues of all the merchants and their incessant rumors.

Respect mingled with fear, yet Indra never wavered.

He looked imposing as he walked the streets of the town, staring at nothing in particular, an expression forged by iron and ice. His towering figure seemed to cast a gigantic shadow over every other man nearby, and all the women were dying to take the vacant place at his side.

Everyone thought as he became leader he would choose one of the few wealthy ladies of the village as his wife, but he did not.

It was months after his ascension to power before he communicated with a woman. And that turned out to be you.

Although the village prospered and grew bigger every day, your life remained the same, complicated. Money was scarce as well as food, and working hard every morning was necessary if you wanted to get a crumb of bread.

You tended the garden of a prosperous family, kneeling in the morning dew, your clothes covered in dirt from the work you had started just a few minutes ago.

Footsteps in front of you broke your concentration, and when you looked up, a tall figure was staring down at you. A flowing robe floated in the wind, and that frown was visible even from the floor. Indra was intimidating without uttering a word.

“You look thoroughly filthy.” He had said. “I’m sorry, my lord.” You had replied, bowing your head in respect.

You did not finish that day’s work, for offering you a wide hand, Indra Otsutsuki himself lifted you from the dirt and escorted you to get a fresh change of clothes. Not one of the worn-out ones you used to wear, but an expensive one, of excellent quality, full of exquisite details. A garment of high society, one of the kind he himself usually wore.

From that moment on, he did not leave your side. It was only a matter of time before you moved into his residence, an immense house in the middle of town. You became the envy of all women, no one being able to understand how their leader could choose a servant girl as his partner.

And despite the fear you felt towards him at first, although his haughty looks seemed to be empty initially, you eventually grew to understand him. Dread turned into respect, affection, love.

After all, he saved you from that life of misery to give you one of luxury and privilege, asking for nothing in return. Even though you slept in the same bed every night, he never touched a single hair on your head, never came near you, never took the initiative you feared he may take.

“Why me?” you asked once, the blush on your face shielded by nighttime darkness inside the room. A large space lay between you both on the bed, and Indra, while you couldn’t see him, probably had his back to you. “You are the prettiest.” He replied simply, and you caught a note of amusement in his voice.

During the day it was rare for you to see him, but at sunset, you would both be in the bedroom. No lustful touches in the middle were necessary to make the night complete, for the silences which at first were awkward eventually were filled with chatter.

That intimidating look, that wide-backed warrior with blood-colored eyes, became a companion, a pleasant person to spend time with. Never smiled, never laughed, but you know he is calm, that he enjoys the moment as much as you do. You’ve seen him interact with other people, how his muscles tense when someone is way too close for his comfort, how his brow furrows when anyone speaks to him. You know you’re the only person he tolerates, appreciates, and loves around him.

That’s why seeing him arrive like this is something uncomfortable in your chest. Slowly following in his footsteps, you find his clothes lost all the way back to the room. You pick up garment by garment, and there is a certain satisfaction as you smell his clothes and feel his perfume. As you reach the doorway, he is already tucked into bed, buried under sheets. One of his arms supports his head and acts as a pillow while his other hand scratches his chest, which is slightly uncovered. One of his legs is bent, and covers slip off his skin, revealing a thigh and worked muscles. His eyes are closed, but he knows you are there.

Leaving his clothing on a chair, you approach him and sit on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in your lap. Rarely have you seen this scene, where he relaxes with all his rights in his own bed. Sex has never been addressed between the two of you, and it’s something you’re grateful for. Rumors travel faster than the wind, and many a woman has walked around claiming to have spent time in the bed of the mighty Indra. Whether that’s true, you don’t know, and you’ve never asked either.

If true, your experience is undoubtedly unparalleled.

Still, seeing him like this, becoming one with the bed and stretching out, getting a taste of his toned chest and his thick thigh... Curiosity suddenly demands more.

“You’re staring.” His eyes are still closed, but to be put on display is still just as humiliating. “I’m sorry...” You’re not sure if get up and leave at that moment, but it’s his voice that clears the uncertainty. “Why? I’m your partner, naturally.”

It feels like confirmation of your actions, and you become brave all at once.

“Can I help you... To feel better?....” Your voice is full of hesitation, yet one end of his lips lifts, revealing a wickedly tinged smirk.

“Be my guest.”

Climbing on top of him, your hands tremble with anxiety and anticipation. His eyes flutter open and he watches you intently, analyzing where your actions lead. The man really is huge, and being partially on top of him, the size difference is even greater. Indra seems to rejoice in your stupor, picking up on your intentions and stirring the sheets covering him as you settle between his legs.

Whatever nervousness you felt about what was to come only grows worse at the sight of his size, as even half-hard, his cock’s intimidatingly enormous length.

“Already frightened?” The teasing tone sliding across his tongue fills you with new determination, and with both hands, you hold his shaft. One at the base and one at the head. Your tongue timidly explores that unfamiliar surface, feeling in your grip how hardness invades his dick second after second.

Your lips wrap carefully around it, and pushing gently, inch by inch, his length finds its way into the pleasantly warm depths of your mouth. One of your hands slowly slides down, dragging skin in its wake.

Fixing your eyes on Indra while trying to deal with the raw, inexperienced situation and size, you notice impatience and need, lust swimming in red eyes dominates his expression.

From an instant to the next, your shoulders are enveloped by two gigantic hands, and position is turned around, a vast body hovering over you and trapping you underneath it.

“You teasing little fucker...”

Being handled like that awakens something on the inside that you rarely felt before, some sort of tingling urgently needing to be soothed. A broad palm grasps your chin, which moves your face in the direction Indra desires as he suddenly engulfed your lips.

You have never kissed this man before, and to be making out with him for the first time in these circumstances should feel wrong... but it only builds up more sensations in your lower belly, a treacherous emptiness, and an almost unfamiliar fire.

Your hands awkwardly find his back, and the need to press him against your face, to demand more, to extract more from those luscious lips is interesting. There is no more distance to close between the two of you, but you want to crush yourself against his labored chest until becoming one.

The moment ends quickly as you gasp for air, and trying to recover, a sultry Indra, who grins viciously seductive overpowers your gaze.

“I’ll introduce you to a thing or two...”

Before you comprehend what his words mean, the position changes again, and his two knees are one on either side of your head. He looks even more terrifying from this angle than in everyday life, and you don’t venture to peek at his dick. Two of his fingers slide across your lower lip, caressing your cheek, and suddenly squeeze your face harshly. Your mouth is forced open, but when his cock slides over your tongue and you understand the functionality of the pose, you ease back.

Your lack of experience was driving him crazy, and rather than loosening him up, you were upsetting him further. Managing the matter with his own hands, or rather with his own hips, Indra finds peace again.

Rising to height, one of his palms cradles your face, while the other supports himself against the wall. You try to find stability by holding onto his thighs, and as he buries himself lower in your mouth, sensations in your body become almost unbearable, coupled with his movements.

Indra is kind at first, gradually pushing into your inexperienced cavity slowly, closing his eyes tightly and fighting the urge to destroy your mouth.

Yet when your jaw relaxes completely, grasping the rhythm and feel of the situation, he lets go. The beast is finally released, and the Otsutsuki fucks your lips with abandon, hitting the end of your throat with each thrust. His hips move with agility, and imagining him between your legs with the same surrender and strength makes you hold on.

Tears decorate your cheeks and eyelashes, blending with the saliva dripping from your mouth every time that cock lunges at your face. Indra becomes completely abstracted, tilting his head back as deep growls rise from deep within his chest.

When air is inevitably needed and you can no longer avoid gagging, you repeatedly slap his thighs, drawing his attention. He leans his forehead against the wall and holds your face with both hands, withdrawing his dick from your throat and catching his breath with difficulty. His gaze is fixed on you, and although you could probably look better, you feel really appreciated under those red eyes.

The fluids from your mouth completely soaked your chest and cheeks, your clothes are soaked, and at the sight, the Otsutsuki slides his fingers across your wet skin, then strokes his shaft twice.

When you catch your breath, you place a kiss on the head which has been hitting the back of your throat for minutes, showing he may continue.

Without a second thought, he burrows deeply into your mouth, reaching a depth he hadn’t hit before. The grunt he exhales makes your skin crawl, and you really want to see him enjoy you like this for the rest of your life.

He gives you time to breathe again, and his thrusts become more shallow, seeking more contact with the softness of your tongue and the warmth of your cheeks. It isn’t long before his length is completely out of your cavity and he works it rapidly, seeking the longed-for finish. You’re not sure what you should do, so you simply watch him, amazed at the size of his hands.

After a few seconds, several white shots paint your face, staining your hair and chest, leaving practically nowhere without even a drop. It’s unexpected, but satisfying.

[lis-likes-fics]

Exhilarated

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Reader Word Count: 4,602 words heheh Warnings: Car crash (again), smut Author's Note: Took too long because I'm ✨inconsistent✨.

~~~~~

Y/N sighed deeply as she drove down the dark road, headed back home from out of town. A friend of hers had invited her to her birthday party and she accepted, reassuring Carlisle that she would stay safe while she was out. He had promised her that he would always be by her side, and he took the promise to heart. He was reluctant to let her go by herself, but she convinced him that she would be alright.

Now she was on her way home to Carlisle. She was peering through her windshield when her phone began ringing beside her, the sound was loud and it startled her. She tore her attention away from the road for a moment to decline the phone call, she'd pick it up when she stopped.

Y/N looked back up to the road, cursing loudly when she saw a deer beginning to cross the road. She yanked on the steering wheel, swerving out of the way of the deer that had frozen in the street, staring at the lights that flashed at it.

The car jerked over, just missing the deer. Y/N slammed on the breaks as hard as she could and the car skid across the road. She crashed into a tree, the airbag deploying and smacking Y/N in the face, disorienting her for a moment.

It when she smelled the gas when she knew she had to get out of the car as fast as possible. Her heart pounded in her chest, she could hear her pulse in her ears. She opened her door, struggling to move her legs as she looked down. She groaned when she saw her foot stuck in the car, preventing her from moving.

She wiggled her feet out of her shoes and managed to get her legs out of the car. Just as she was out of the car, the vehicle blew, throwing her in the air from the impact of the explosion.

She let out a strangled yelp when she landed on hard, rolling over the ground before being abruptly halted by smacking another tall tree. Another cry escaped her as she felt a terrible pain in her lower back that soon spread all over her body. She was sure something was broken, and it was something vital. Blood soon started dropping her mouth, creating a bad taste in her mouth.

As if she'd be able to summon him, she choked out a strangled call, "Carlisle…" Her voice was barely audible or understandable, but she didn't stop. She needed him. Her body hurt so badly, she was in need of his aid.

However, it seemed as though he could hear her calls as a black Mercedes came racing down the road to get to her, screeching to a stop before the door was opened and Carlisle was coming out to her within the next second.

He was kneeling at her side, looking her over with worried eyes as he spoke, "What is it with you and cars?"

She chuckled weakly, wincing and coughing up more blood. "I'm sorry," her voice cracked as she got the words out. He shook his head, placing a hand on her cheek, "It's not your fault, dear."

He continued looking her over, trying to make note of everything wrong. She spoke, struggling to get the words out of her mouth, "Carlisle, I can't m-move my legs."

Carlisle acknowledged her words, "I'm going to move you onto your stomach, okay?" She gave him a nod and allowed him to do so. He felt around her back along her spine, asking her questions about how it felt and what happened.

At the end of his assessment and her recap, he let out  a heavy breath and gave her a sad look. She couldn't comprehend it, she had started to fade in and out of focus, looking around her surroundings.

When she hit her back so hard on the tree, it fractured part of her spine and paralyzed her from the waist down. Along with that, she was bleeding internally and he knew she wouldn't have enough time before she actually passed out. He knew it would be bad if she passed out, it wouldn't end well at all.

And he couldn't lose her.

With glazed eyes, Y/N turned her scarce attention to Carlisle, "What's….wrong?"

Her breath had become heavy, the other effects of the accident were starting to sink in. Carlisle looked her in the eyes, as if he was memorizing every detail in them. She weakly moved an arm with the intention of placing her hand on his cheek. He took her hand in his, holding it to his cheek as he savored the warmth of her hand.

"Carlisle-?" His name was interrupted by a painful cough that riddled through her. He told her with a sad voice, crying without tearing up. "I don't think you're going to make it. You got hurt really badly."

She wasn't concerned about herself, she was concerned about him. She didn't want to leave him alone, she didn't want to leave his side after promising a million times a day that she never would.

Fresh tears stained her face to cover the old ones, not from physical pain but from emotional pain. "I'm not leaving you," she whispered in a hoarse voice.

He sighed and nodded, "I know. You'd never forgive me if I let you, and I'd never forgive myself if I let you."

She knew what he was getting at. For a moment, she was scared of the physical pain that would come with his cure, but the fear ceased when it was challenged with the despair of even the thought of leaving Carlisle's side.

She gave a weak smile and nodded, "Do it…"

He had a pained expression on his face as he considered the option again. It was the only option where she would come out alive-- or at least for the most part.

Carlisle stroked the side of her face with his thumb, gazing over her features as he looked past the injuries, looking at her true self as if it was the last time he'd see it.

He whispered in a clear but saddened voice, "I'm going to miss these eyes." She smiled at him, swallowing thickly.

Carlisle lifted her head carefully, kissing her deeply with as much meaning as he could without hurting her further. She kissed him back, it was one thing she could focus on fully with her mind slipping in and out of attention.

He whispered in her ear, "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head and told him in a broken voice, "I love you."

He kissed the side of her face, "I love you, too."

He braced himself before finally biting into her neck, his teeth piercing the skin and drawing blood. He fought off his urge to suck her dry quite well, more focused on saving her than he was on tasting her blood.

Y/N inhaled sharply, a strangled sound caught in her throat as she tried her hardest to hold in her scream. She could feel the venom already spreading over her body, burning her up from the inside out with such excruciating pain.

When Carlisle finished, he wiped his mouth and gazed at her painfully. He hated seeing her in pain, he hated seeing her looking so broken.

Try as she did, she couldn't stop the cries from leaving her body. Carlisle wiped at her tears as she squeezed her eyes shut tight, every fiber of her being struggling through the pain.

It felt like she had been lit on fire, for a moment she thought she would be hurting like this forever. She screamed and writhed in unbridled pain, her body jerking all over the place as she clenched and stretched her fingers repeatedly.

She almost wished the bottom half of her body stayed paralyzed, but she decided not to. It was better to go through the pain and spend eternity with Carlisle than it was to die and leave him without the love of his life.

Y/N opened her eyes, forcing a breath out of her lunges before sucking another back in. Her eyes fell on Carlisle. She found some remedy, thought very little, for the pain as she looked into his eyes. Beyond the agony he felt for putting you through such pain, she could see the love he felt for her that justified the physical pain.

It was that love that made him strong enough to do what he needed to do.

She didn't know how long she would be in this state-- it was different for everyone-- but she knew it would be worth it if it meant she would get to spend forever with him.

~

Y/N had been moved by Carlisle to his home, they couldn't stay out in the middle of nowhere while she was turning. In the safety of the home, she continued through the change.

She felt bad for putting everyone through the ordeal of having to listen to her pained screams as she turned. They wouldn't blame her for that, of course. They knew the pain she was in, they'd endured it before. That didn't stop her from feeling like she was burdening them. If only she'd been a little more careful, they wouldn't have to go through the mess that is changing.

While Edward could hear the thoughts she was having while she turned, he wasn't in the room to dissuade her from thinking those thoughts. Carlisle was right by her side the entire time. He refused to leave her, nothing his children could say would make him for even a second.

They eventually had to move Jasper out of the house. Her change was affecting him because, along with the physical pain, she was going through the emotional pain of having to watch Carlisle watch her turn. It hurt her to cause him any pain and Jasper wasn't holding up because of it.

She was in transformation for four days.

If she hadn't known physical pain before, she definitely did now. While changing made her exhausted, once she was a vampire, the exhaustion disappeared into a drained feeling.

She looked around the room, as if seeing everything for the first time. She could see every small detail in everything she laid eyes on.

She felt this strange feeling in her throat and chest, as if something was wrong, something was going against her natural instinct.

She finally put a finger on it when she realized she hadn't started breathing yet. She didn't need to, so she hadn't realized it when she didn't.

She took in a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. She could smell so many different things at one time: the trees outside, the fresh morning dew, each distinctive smell of each person throughout the entire house.

She listened closely to the sounds around her, the quiet shuffles of the residents in the house, the chips of birds outside, the light breathing of someone sat next to her.

She turned her head to look at the person next to her. A smile spread across her face as she gazed at him, looking at every small detail of his face, listening to every breath he took as he watched her with his own large smile.

"Hey," he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper but perfectly audible to her. She felt as though she might cry as she stared back at him, she was so glad to see him, even if she was with him for the past four days. She was seeing him clearly, there were no tears in her eyes.

She overestimated the amount of strength she needed to use as she got off the bed Carlisle had in his room solely for her and hugged him, straddling his waist as she buried her face in his neck, holding him a little too tight.

He let out a hearty laugh at her enthusiasm, holding her to him just as tightly. She took a deep breath in, inhaling his scent and memorizing it instantly. He was perfect in every single way.

She gripped him tight, carefully not to break him as she tried not to underestimate her strength. She breathed a sigh of contentment.

When she finally let go, it was only enough so she could kiss him. As soon as their lips touched, she sighed. The kiss alone was exhilarating.

She intertwined her fingers in his hair, letting out a soft moan against his lips. His lips tasted sweet, it was a taste she'd never experienced, but she liked it-- loved it, even.

When she pulled away, it was strange to not be gasping for breath. If she were human, she would have been.

She smiled back at him again with loving eyes, "Carlisle." She was surprised by her own voice, it was clear and seemingly perfect in every way. Carlisle watched in admiration as she experienced these things as if for the first time.

She looked back at him, "I sound…"

"Beautiful," he finished with a smile, "as always."

He kissed her again, wrapping his arms more securely around her as he stood, setting her on her feet as he pulled away. He grabbed her hand, guiding her to the bathroom connected to his room, despite him not needing to use it.

Carlisle pulled her in front of the mirror, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind and his head lying in the crook of her neck. She held his arms around her, locking her fingers with his as she stared at her reflection.

It seemed as though all of her imperfections before had been corrected, painting this perfect version of herself that actually seemed to compliment Carlisle now.

Her skin was smooth like silk, her hair was styled to perfection, despite the mess it was in, her crimson eyes were deep but they shone like stars. Even if they were yet to be the honey gold of Carlisle's eyes, they were still strangely appealing to gaze into.

She had always felt like she didn't look right next to him, she felt out of sorts. He seemed like a perfect sculpture carved from the most divine marble while she was a jugged wood carving placed next to him.

Now she looked as flawless as she did, she felt like she finally completed this perfect pair they seemed to form.

She turned her attention to Carlisle, his eyes trained on her face as she looked at him through the mirror. She smiled at him, turning in his arms to lay a hand on his cheek.

She went to kiss him again, but was suddenly distracted by a burning in her throat that made her reach to touch it. Carlisle nodded lightly, "You need to feed."

She sighed softly and nodded, taking his hand in hers and allowing him to lead her out of the house. As they walked downstairs hand in hand, the Cullens were all downstairs waiting.

She paused next to Carlisle, moving her free hand to hold their intertwined hands. She felt strange under their looks like this, like there was something wrong with her. She tensed under the eyes, a strange feeling rising in her as she grew anxious. There was this strange instinct in her that made her feel threatened, thus moving her to be hostile.

But before these instincts could properly kick in, they were smiling at her and rushing over to give her hugs. She was startled for a moment when Alice rushed into her arms happily, slightly squealing at her. She settled and hugged her back, eventually exchanging hugs with everyone in the coven before getting a giant bear hug from Emmett-- and she expected nothing less than that.

They gave her a proper welcome into the coven, expressing how happy they were that she was alright. Before she could strike up some conversation, Carlisle pulled her away so she could feed. "You can catch up afterwards," he smiled at Y/N.

~

Y/N found that she wasn't clumsy anymore. It was as if being a vampire cured everything wrong with her and made her this perfect woman. It made her feel like she was actually worth Carlisle's time now. She never said anything before, she didn't feel like it was appropriate to, but she always believed that she was far less than Carlisle. She never believed she was really that valuable, Carlisle's reassurances could only last her for so long.

After teaching Y/N how to properly hunt, they returned home. She was smiling the whole way, happy with her new self as she walked with Carlisle.

A few days passed and Carlisle started to notice she felt a lot happier than she had when she was human. He was curious to know why the change was such a big one, she was brighter, more radiant, as if things were finally working out for her.

One night while everyone was out feeding, Carlisle and Y/N were still at home together. He questioned her, "You're happier than you used to be. Even Jasper can feel the difference."

She shrugged, "I am." The simple response was enough to make Carlisle push on. "Why weren't you this happy before?"

Y/N looked at him, her red eyes staring into his golden ones before she sighed. "I'm different now. Before I was this clumsy, accident-prone, mediocre girl and now I actually feel…strong."

Carlisle took her hand in his, bringing it up to kiss the back of it, "Y/N."

She nodded, "I know, I know. I wasn't mediocre before, and I'm not mediocre now. I'll always be special to you."

He chuckled lightly before licking his lips, "Why did you think you were mediocre?"

She shrugged and sighed, "I mean…you literally look like a perfect specimen, like a beautiful statue. I…didn't. I was unimpressive and boring. But now I'm strong and I'm beautiful and…I'm perfect now."

Carlisle said exactly what she thought he would, but it somehow still managed to hit home with her.

"Y/N," he said, "when you were human, I cherished you for what you were. I still cherish you for what you are. Do you want to know something? The only difference I see between you now and you then are the color of your eyes. You were always beautiful, you were always strong, you were always perfect, and you always will be. To be honest, I do miss the clumsiness."

She chuckled at the last part, kissing his cheek, "Yeah, because arriving at the ER at least once every two weeks was fun."

"It amazed me how much one human could get hurt in a month," he replied, a soft laugh erupting from his chest.

Y/N smiled brightly and sighed. Perhaps she was hard on herself. All of her self-doubt wouldn't disappear in one night, but perhaps it would over her time with Carlisle. He would definitely do everything in his power to make sure she knew her worth.

She leaned over to him, kissing him gently before smiling and telling him genuinely, "I love you, Carlisle."

"I love you," he smiled. He took her face in his hands, kissing her lips softly. She moved so that she was sitting in his lap, happy to be with him, as always.

Carlisle's hands smoothed over her back, his touch was soothing over her skin. She pulled away from his lips, her eyes closed, her mind focused on his hands on her. It was such a soothing and exhilarating feeling. Her skin tingled wherever his hands dragged as he watched her sigh in pleasure.

Her voice was feathery as she spoke, "What's happening?"

His smile was one of adoration, "Your senses are stronger. You can feel every touch, smell every scent, hear every sound, taste every taste, and see every sight on a higher level."

She nodded, "That makes sense." She'd never felt anything like this. But, to be fair, she'd never been in a relationship as close and intimate as with Carlisle-- or anywhere near it.

She leaned forward again, her head in the crook of his neck as she pressed her body against his. "Do it more," she whispered.

And he did. His hand glided over her skin, grazing her up her back, over her shoulders, and down her arms. His hands gripped her, his thumbs brushing her skin, before moving back up her arms and down her sides.

Y/N turned her head and kissed his neck. Carlisle's eyes fluttered closed, his hands grazing down her outer thighs, moving back up and starting over running up her back.

She adjusted herself so she straddled his waist, locking her legs behind him. She loved being this close to him, he always felt so wonderful.

"How do you feel?" He asked her in his honey smooth voice.

She smiled, "Really good." She leaned forward, her hands cupping his face affectionately before kissing him again. He hands supported her back, pulling her impossibly close.

He stood, his arms wrapping around her waist to carry her. Laying her gently on the bed, he kissed her more desperately than he had before. Y/N sighed, moving her arms to wrap around his neck.

With every second, her need for him at that moment became more than just for care. She wanted him, needed him. With every kiss, her carnal need for him grew stronger.

Carlisle didn't need to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking. He whispered into her ear, the words so delicate in the air, "Say the words, and I'm yours."

She moaned lightly, nodding her head before giving him another kiss, "I want you, I want this. Please make me yours."

He smiled, kissing her hastily. His hands moved down her sides, gripping her waist as he pressed his thumbs into them. She grabbed his shirt, initially going to take it off of him before deciding to just rip it from his body completely.

He found that amusing as he allowed the piece of fabric to fall to the floor. He chuckled lightly, shifting her to move farther onto the bed. His hands pulled down her pants eagerly. He let them drop to the floor, kicking them out of his way.

She watched him intently, her eyes clouded with lust. He smiled at her and snuck his hands into her panties, rubbing her clit expertly.

She sucked in a breath, gripping the sheets for dear life as she let out a loud moan. Carlisle couldn't believe his eyes at the sight, it was beautiful, she was beautiful.

His finger moved quickly, applying just the right amount of force. Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him close to her. He moved back over her and kissed her again, swallowing her moans hungrily.

It was ridiculous how fast he made her reach the edge. She was getting close to meeting her release and all he did was kiss and touch her. If she was this sensitive, she could only imagine what he would feel like inside of her.

She was getting so hot thinking about it.

"Carlisle," she moaned before he stopped his ministrations, he knew how close she was. She whined and he told her in a surprisingly seductive tone, "I love the way you look when you get close, but I don't want you to come yet."

She couldn't believe his words as she looked at him pleadingly. She was so ready for him. She was so ready to feel him.

She reached down his pants, undoing his belt eagerly. His eyes closed momentarily before he looked back at her, his eyes liquid gold as he gazed at her. When she had his pants down, she palmed him through his underwear, moaning lightly.

Carlisle groaned at her contact, kissing her neck and earning a sharp gasp from her. One hand went back to his head, holding him down next to her. Her other hand continued before going to take off his boxers entirely.

She let out a soft sigh when she saw his impressive length. He wasn't small, that was for sure. He let out a sigh of his own before whispering in her ear, "Are you sure?"

She bit her lip, kissing his cheek before telling him, "Carlisle, I love you. I want to share everything with you, especially…"

Carlisle glanced at her after her hesitation. "Especially what?" He asked.

She sucked on her lip before admitting, "Especially my first time."

He shared a long, meaningful look with her. He kissed her again. Despite the disheveled state they were in, the kiss was slow and sensual and managed to convey their love for each other with such depth. When he pulled back, he gave one last look to her before she nodded confidently.

He contained eyed contact with her before sliding inside slowly. She threw her head back, closing her eyes and gasping. She let out a loud exclamation as he buried himself deep within her. He groaned into her skin.

He pulled out slowly until he was left with just the tip inside of her before pushing himself back inside. She wrapped her legs around his waist, so eager to keep him close. "Oh, please," she moaned.

Carlisle sighed, a sound so full of pleasure at hearing her voice pleaded for him like she was. His excitement exploded, he had to try and control himself.

Carlisle's breath picked up, he tried to keep himself on as much control as possible, doing his best to keep from pistoning in her.

However, when she got used to his impressive size, tightening her grip around his neck. "Oh, yes," she sighed, "More. Please, Carlisle, more."

He almost lost it when she said his name in such a way. He didn't realize just how much power she had over him until she moaned his name in her plea. He obliged to her pleas and his thrusts became faster and harder.

Her sounds filled the room and his sounds began to mix with hers from his excitement. She could feel a knot in her stomach as she felt herself getting closer to her release.

She cursed under her breath, moaning his name in his ear. Carlisle could feel her squeezing around him, which only spurred him on as his thrusts became more erratic. Her moans, her cries, her pleas, they were so seductively precious to him. He wanted to pull them from her night after night. He wanted to have her forever.

"I'm so close," she whispered, her mouth hanging open as she moaned out.

"I know," he said, "I can feel you."

She smiled, panting heavily as Carlisle thrusted into her so deliciously. He was getting so close, he was just at the edge of his release.

She sighed, the words sending them both over the edge with such force, "I love you, Carlisle."

They gasped, holding their breath as they finally reached their sweet release together. Y/N intertwined her fingers with his, kissing him deeply as she moaned into his mouth.

They chased their highs together, the feeling so intense, so euphoric, so exhilarating.

When they finally started to come down, he eased her through it. Their breaths mingled as they pulled away from the kiss. Carlisle pulled out of her. He brushed a thumb against her cheek, pulling her into another kiss.

She smiled, holding him impossibly close to her. When they pulled back from the kiss, Carlisle whispered, "I love you."

[breanime]

The Five Senses: Taste (with Bonus Boy)

This is completely the fault of @thesandbeneathmytoes

warning: steamy!

Billy Russo: Billy was a disciplined man. He made his money his own way, through shedding a lot of blood and morals, so when he got a chance to flaunt that wealth... He did it. Which is how you ended up on your back on his desk, fully naked and on display, as Billy poured 500 dollars worth of champagne on your body. He stood, caged in by your legs, and leaned over your wet body, licking up the champagne that had begun to trickle between your breasts. “Mm,” he hummed, smirking as he lapped up the champagne, “tastes like...” His warm mouth trailed down your body, following the dews of champagne as they rolled down your form until he was right at your center, lightly sucking on your clit. “...perfection.”

Logan Delos: Logan loved the taste of himself on your lips. He kissed you greedily, his tongue sliding against yours; he could taste his own cum on your lips, and he fucking loved it. He pushed you down onto the couch, his hard, warm body covering yours as he kissed you. “You taste like me,” he grinned, settling himself between your open legs, “and I taste like you, don’t I, princess?” “Yes,” you answered, the word coming out in a breathy whisper. Logan pushed three fingers inside of you, curling them as you gasped and arched your back, trying to get closer to the pleasure. You watched, chest heaving, as Logan withdrew his hand and slid his three dripping fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean for the taste of you. “Delicious.”

Jax Teller: It had been a surprise to Jax, how much he enjoyed licking strawberry lube off of you, but he loved it. He fucking loved it. Your legs were thrown over his shoulders, and Jax’s head was firmly between your thighs, licking your pussy as you moaned and shook in his grasp. He grabbed the lube from the side dresser, not even having to look up, and squeezed the bottle, and both of you moaned as you shivered at the feel of the thick gel on you. “You’re so fuckin’ sweet, darlin’,” Jax growled, smirking against you, “My favorite afternoon snack...” You grabbed onto his hair, pulling the strands as he ate you out, the sounds of his mouth sucking and smacking against you, mixed in with both of your moans, filled the room. Jax had just come home from a run about 15 minutes ago, and you knew your evening was just getting started. 

Coco Cruz: You grabbed onto the headboard in front of you, head thrown back as Coco licked a stripe up your clit. He had you on your hands and knees, his strong hands on your waist as he ate you out from the back. His hair was pulled back into a bun, giving him more access to your wetness, and Coco lapped you up like a starving man. He hadn’t seen you in a week, and as soon as he walked through the door, he had growled out “I need to fucking taste that pussy”...and so here you were. Coco lifted his chin, that long, talented tongue of his swirling around your most sensitive parts, making you scream. You jumped when he puckered his lips on your clit, and Coco smacked your ass as a warning. “Stay still,” he said, his voice muffled by your flesh, “I’m fuckin’ starving, baby.”

Angel Reyes: Angel loved eating you out. He loved making you feel good. He loved having you spread out, like a Goddess, all for him. You were completely naked, and he was fully dressed, situated comfortably between your shivering legs. Angel had lost track of time; he’d been eating your pussy for at least 45 minutes, making you cum until you couldn’t say anything but his name. He himself had cum just from making you cum, and he’d taken a handful of his own cum and spread it against you, licking it up as he ate you out. That had driven you crazy, and you’d orgasmed harder than you’d ever orgasmed before. Now he was taking it down a notch, giving you slow, deliberate licks as you shook around him. “Angel,” you sighed, tears streaming down your face, “My Angel... My Angel...” He grinned, his face wet with your arousal, his rings glittering from your cum, and his mouth eager for more. “I know what you need baby... You need more...”

Miguel Galindo: Miguel’s face was your throne. You rolled your hips on top of him, and he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. Miguel fucking loved eating you like this, loved giving you control: you set the pace, you got to determine how much of yourself you gave to him, and how much you held back. But he knew you, and he knew you’d never hold back from him. Beneath you, Miguel was hard enough to cut diamonds, but he liked that too--the waiting. He licked up into you, enjoying the feel of your wetness gathering in his beard and on his cheeks, he loved the taste of you....He loved that he was the only one who got to taste it. Miguel turned his head a bit, changing up the angle, sneaking a bit of control back from you, but you allowed it. You allowed it, he knew, because it felt so fucking good, his tongue inside of you, his nose pressed up against your most sensitive area. Neither of you spoke; you didn’t have to. Your back-to-back orgasms said all that needed to be said. 

Nick Amaro: Nick’s tongue flicking against your clit was one thing, but the sexy, hushed whispers in Spanish was another. You were shaking, your back was against the headboard, and you leaned over, your breasts leaning on the top of Nick’s head as he ate you out. He’d said it time and time again: he loved the taste of you. He treated it like a personal mission, eating you out, making you cum. He had three fingers inside of you as he licked and sucked at you, whispering how pretty and how sweet you were in Spanish. He moved his head from side to side, chuckling at the low moan you let out at the action. “That feel good, mi amor?” He asked, his mouth still attached to you. You nodded, pulling at his short hair, “Y-yes....” “You taste so damn good, mi vida,” he licked your clit, flicking it under his tongue, grinning at the way you squirmed at the action. You were close, he could tell, and he couldn’t wait to lick you clean. 

Johnny Tuturro: The waves of the ocean hitting the beach weren’t loud enough to muffle your moans. You gripped the towel beneath you in your fists, back arched and mouth open as Johnny ate you out like you were his last meal on earth. Johnny had one hand on your breast, your biking top stretching under his large hand, and the other was on his dick, pumping it as he fucked you with his tongue. You twisted in his grip, his mouth was so wet and warm and perfect, it was all you could do to keep your screams contained, and he wasn’t helping. He wanted you to scream, it enhanced the quality of the taste. “Fuck,” he gasped out, pulling back from you with a wet pop of his mouth, “You taste so good, baby.” He didn’t wait for a reply, instead, he just buried his face between your thighs again, licking into you as you screamed, cumming directly into his waiting mouth. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his smile against your skin. 

Rio: If there was one thing Rio had in spades: it was patience. He’d been teasing you for an hour now, his long, skilled fingers trailing up and down your warm skin, his mouth devouring you...He was eating you out now, the strokes of his tongue long and slow, making you shiver when he reached your clit. Rio leaned forward, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth, rolling his tongue against it. You jumped, and he chuckled, his arm flying out and pushing you back onto the bed. “Chill, ma,” he said, that low, deep voice making you swoon, “I ain’t done...” He licked into you again, and you moaned, a step away from begging. “Taste so good,” he drawled, his voice muffled, “Could eat you every day of the week and never get tired of it...” He pulled back, grinning at you. “That what you want, baby?” “I want you to fuck me,” you breathed out. He laughed, and you watched as that sinful tongue of his came out to lick his wet bottom lip. “Don’t worry, ma, I will...after I finish eatin’.”

Bonus Boy

EZ: There was something about eating you out in the middle of the night that EZ loved. He loved the taste of you, loved the way you still smelled of your body wash, loved the taste of it on your sweet, soft skin. You sighed, so sweetly, as he licked into you. He could do this all day. EZ’s hands were on your thighs, keeping them spread as he ate you out, his strength the only thing keeping you from potentially crushing his head between them. He licked at you carefully, little kitten licks, taking in the taste of you in small bursts, so happy to be able to make you feel good. So happy that you were his. The sun was coming up, and EZ could swear that he could taste the sunlight between your legs. You tasted like freedom, like security...you tasted like love. When you came, crying out as the morning rays filtered through the blinds, EZ opened his mouth and took it all, moaning in tandem with you at the sensation. He sat up, chin glistening, grinning down at you. “So,” he chuckled, taking your outstretched hand in his and kissing the back of it, “Best two out of three?”

*******************************************************************************************Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! And if you really enjoyed it and you can send in a tip here, I would greatly appreciate it!

Also, let me know which sense you’d like me to do next: Smell, Touch, Sight, or Hearing, and what Bonus Boy you’d like to see me do, even if it’s a guy I haven’t written for yet! It can’t always be EZ! And don’t say Felipe lol

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[mandoalorian]

hiii could you do a drabble with Din?? I was thinking he doesn’t know you have anxiety yet and you’re having a panic attack and he doesn’t rlly know how to handle them?? I thought #16 would be perfect bc protector Din is like “I will fuck up whatever is making you feel like this” (surprise bucket head, it’s their own brain)

Melting Dew [Din Djarin x GN!Reader]

Prompt no.16 “Who hurt you?” — thank you for the request!

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attack, body dysmorphia, food mention, domestic!Din, Din and reader have pre-established relationship.

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2000>

Masterlist

Din wasn't meant to be back for at least two more hours. The farmers market was about a three mile walk away from where he'd parked the Razor Crest, and he'd taken Grogu with him this time, who was sure to preoccupy Din whilst you were unable to accompany him. You'd spent the past week beaming at the thought of returning to Naboo, and craving the delicious, juicy taste of their native sourberries. Last night, before you fell asleep in Din's arms, you excitedly told him how you were going to purchase enough sourberries to last the entirety of the upcoming bounty hunting season. Din jokingly rolled his eyes at your comment and pressed a chaste kiss into your forehead, always finding your love for the simpler things in life extremely endearing.

Din Djarin spent the majority of his life a lone warrior. But upon meeting you and rescuing Grogu, it seemed like that all changed— and quickly, too. Now he was providing for the little green bean he called 'son', and you, the most beautiful, interesting and equally important person he'd ever laid his eyes on. Your appearance was soft, delicate, and your features were doe-like. In a galaxy filled with hatred and war, you were the epitome of hope and innocence. How could he not love you? He admired your attitude and excitement for life, and he adored the way you cared for Grogu unconditionally, like he was your own child. You were unlike any other person he'd ever met before. You were as pure as melting dew.

So of course he was protective over you. You, Din and Grogu had scowered the most dangerous depths of the galaxy and you all had your fair share of abuse from Imps, crime syndicates and immoral scoundrels. But there were people out there who tried to hurt you. However, they could never even get close to drawing a knife to your neck. Din was always one step ahead. Messing with you was no game. He hadn't let a single one of them live.

You'd awoken early this morning, quietly slipping out of bed and padding over to your closet in search for an appropriate outfit for the day ahead. You picked out a white tunic and embroided belt, along with some brown boots; but strangely enough, none of it seemed to fit. This was your favourite outfit and you wore it on practically all your days off. You loved the flow of it, and the way it hugged all the curves and accents of your body. But today... something wasn't right. The stitched tunic was tight around your arms and boxy on your shoulders, and as you looked in the full length mirror, your heart sank in your chest. The boots made everything worse. The belt didn't hang on your body correctly. And hell, it wasn't even just the clothes. There was something wrong with your hair today too— and your skin had broken out— and the dark circles that graced your under eyes had become significantly more prominent. You felt completely and utterly disgusting. There was no other word to describe it.

You heard Grogu stir from the quarters and you knew it wouldn't be long until he and Din woke up. You felt so embarrassed. So ashamed. The Mandalorian was an esteemed bounty hunter, best in the Guild, and also your husband— but Kriff, if he seen you like this... he'd shove you off his ship and make the jump to hyperspace within seconds! Panic filled you and the palms of your hands became clammy. He couldn't see you like this. He couldn't.

Just as you anticipated, you heard Grogu's garbles, signifying that the child was now awake and ready for breakfast. Din groaned something incoherent and you glanced over to him as he shuffled amongst the blankets. Your mind was still racing. If he saw you like this, he would for sure leave you. You had to hide. But where?

You bolted to the other side of Din's quarters and into the Refresher, turning on the shower and discarding the clothes that had made you feel so monstrous on the floor. Din heard the screeching noise of the Refresher and thought it was strange you were showering so early. The water was always particularly cold on a morning, and you knew this. Nevertheless, he shrugged it off and headed over to grab some pots and pans. He was preparing bone broth for breakfast.

When you didn't join the duo, Din left a bowl of broth for you in the cockpit of his ship. After he finished washing the dishes, he knocked on the Refresher door. "Cyare, are you alright?" he called, his voice rife with concern.

"Y-yes, I'm okay." you lied through gritted teeth. You were sat on the cold tiled floor, a towel hugging your body as you shivered uncontrollably.

"I was going to leave now... for the farmer's market. The walk is quite far so I wanted to set off early. Are you still coming?" Din asked curiously, his gloved hand nervously tracing the details of the steel door.

"I think I'll skip today, but have fun with Grogu, and stay safe." You tried to sound as optimistic and normal as usual, but behind the closed door, a silent tear slipped down your cheek. There was a brief silence and you had considered maybe Din had already left. But then you heard his modulated voice again.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" He knew how much you'd looked forward to going to the farmers market. It was all you had been talking about for the past week. Sourberries.

"I'm fine!" you forced a smile, even though he couldn't see.

Din wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to push you. If you said you were fine, so be it. He believed you. He had no reason not to trust you when you'd been nothing but honest to him since the very day you met him, all those moons ago.

Once you were sure he was gone, you pulled your pajamas back over your head, and climbed into bed. You felt safe, and free from any judgement. You were all alone. And that meant you could cry. So, you did. You sobbed for what felt like hours. You laid on your side and clutched the thin blanket tight to your chest, almost like you were hugging it for comfort. Your whimpers echoed against the interior of the Crest and this was the only time you had been thankful for Din and Grogu not being around.

Until you heard the entrance to the Crest shoot open, with that all too familiar whizzing noise. Dank Farrik— they were back early. They were back and you weren't even dressed. Your eyes were red and puffy, your hair was sticking up in places. You were, to put simply, a mess. But you felt like you were no less of a mess than what you were when you had worn the white tunic and embroided belt this morning whilst they were still asleep. You sunk under the covers of the bed and tried to hide from them. You prayed to the Maker that perhaps Grogu would help you out and use one of his magical force abilities to make you invisible. Then you'd never have to face the oncoming conversation with Din. The conversation that was inevitable.

"Cyar'ika?" Din asked, putting Grogu down on the floor and approaching you hesitantly. Thankfully, Grogu was more preoccupied with the little silver beskar ball he'd always play with. It came from one of the many levers on the Razor Crest. Din gently pulled away the blankets, revealing your tired glazed eyes and your tear stained cheeks. "Oh, my love. What... what happened?"

You didn't answer, feeling a swell of guilt erupt in your stomach. Din removed his helmet and placed it on the nightstand, and your heart jumped at the mere sight of your husband. His dark eyebrows were furrowed together in bewilderment and his honey colour eyes raked your body. "Who hurt you?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave. It was low and gravely; and you knew he was very serious. "Cyare... did something happen? Did someone-"

"No." you cut him off quickly.

No? Din's mind couldn't compute that answer. There was clearly something very wrong, and Din had to find out what exactly it was. Someone must've done something. You were fine yesterday. Had someone been on the ship while he and Grogu were out?

"Whoever or whatever it is— I can fix it. I will hunt them down cyare, you hear me? They won't know what hit them. I can-"

"Din stop," you pleaded with weak gasp, bringing your hands up to hide your face. You felt nothing but shame. "It's not... it's not like that. It's me."

Din's expression changed almost immediately. His face softened, his perfect plush lips parted slightly at your confession. He sat on the edge of the bed and took your hand. "What do you mean?" he quizzed quietly, although he had an inkling he already knew what you meant.

"I got up early this morning, excited to venture out to the farmers market with you and Grogu. Excited to go sourberry picking. But when I got dressed, it was like... something just hit me. I can't put it into words but I just felt so... so... ugly."

Once again, Din's brain simply could not compute your revelation. Ugly? You? How could you possibly feel that way. You shared the likeness of an angel. How could it be?

You swallowed and continued. "And then I got afraid. I got so scared that you'd see me the way I see me, and you wouldn't want to be with me anymore. That you'd run away from me and leave me behind." you shrugged helplessly. Now the tears were beginning to free fall.

"I could never, ever, think that of you, riduur. I love you so much. How could I possibly leave you? Without you, my life would end. It would be meaningless." Din revealed, his chocolate eyes glossy as he cupped your face with his large hand. His thumb traced the height of your cheekbone and you found yourself subconsciously leaning into his touch.

"Don't say things like that," you whispered, shaking your head. "You don't need me around... you already had everything under control before me."

"But nobody to make me smile. Nobody to make me laugh. Nobody to bring me joy... or show me the pleasure of how to love, and be loved in return." Din huffed, pressing his forehead against yours. "Next time you feel this way, please don't hide it from me. Whatever you're going through, we go through it together. Okay?"

You sniffed before finally nodding your head in affirmation. "Okay Din."

Din leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, the curve of his nose bumping into your cheek as he manouvered his body carefully over you. "So beautiful, and all mine." He purred lovingly before licking a stripe over your lower lip. You moaned wantonly and interwined your fingers in his curly brown locks of hair.

It was moments like this that you cherished forever. The sweet touches and soft murmers that made you void of all worry and insecurity; because in that moment, all that mattered was you and your riduur.

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[deans-baby-momma]

Forbidden-FIN

Chapter 30

Set in season 14 and follows Y/N, a young girl from the Apocalypse world as she tries to navigate this new place that she was thrust in after being rescued and the feelings she begins to have for someone she really shoudln’t be having them for.

Warnings: There’s a bit of angst, smut and fluff in each chapter. I will tag the smut chapters appropriately but if you’re following me and reading any of my stories, you know it’s gonna be there.  LOL

WC: 1541

The next day, after a quick breakfast, we are heading back toward Lebanon. The morning is bright, dew that still clings to the leaves sparkle like diamonds in the sunlight.  

I hate that this trip is ending but we need to get back to see if the rest of the team had found a cure for whatever is ailing Jack. 

I can't seem to get the conversation Dean and I had, had just a few nights ago, out of my head. When he confessed that he had avoided me due to the fact that people might frown upon their relationship, given who they are.

I also remember the speech he'd given  when we had begun sleeping together. "No one has to know what goes on between us. It can be our little secret. I will be yours and you can be mine, behind closed doors.”

The fact that he no longer wants to keep our affair a secret makes my heart flutter. For others to know that  I am his and he mine makes it seem all the more real, more legitimate. It isn't just a fling or a way to pass the time; we mean something to one another.  

"Dean?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder at Jack who is staring out the window with a smile on his face. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he answers as he signals to change lanes. "What's up sweetheart?"

"Who are you afraid of finding out about us? The people we care about, the important ones, already know. Sam, Jack,  your mom, Bobby. I'm sure the other survivors will understand. And if they don't, so what? They can just get used to it."

I watch as Dean contemplates his answer and a part of me is afraid that he is actually reconsidering our 'coming out'.

"Truthfully?" He questions,  glancing over at me. "Bobby. That man kind of scares me. He could easily rip me a new one for even thinking of touching you. He is very protective of you Y/N."

And it's true. Even in our world uncle Bobby had protected and took care of me while Dad and Uncle Sam were gone. Hell,  the man practically raised me! But….he already knew about Dean and I. He actually caught us. 

And I tell my boyfriend that, remind him of Bobby walking in while I was…. but I didn't finish my sentence as Dean cut me off,  shushing me while motioning to Jack.  

The nephilim chooses this particular time to speak up, causing Dean and I to fully blush.

"Bobby caught Y/N performing oral sex on you Dean," he says. "I'm positive if he wanted to "rip you a new one"-" he uses air quotes as he speaks. "-he would've done it then. You have nothing to fret over with Bobby.  Can I ask a question?"

I nod and turn in the seat to give Jack my full attention. "What is it Jack?"

"Exactly what is Dean afraid of….what new one does he think Bobby will give him?"

"Oh. Uh," I stammer as I try to think of an appropriate answer. "It's just a euphemism; just a saying humans use."

"Okay," Jack takes my reply at face value and turns back to watching the scenery float by.

When we stop for gas I have to  make a beeline for the bathroom

Dean's POV

After I fill the tank, I climb back in the car to wait for Y/N. I keep an eye on the door and the interior of the store in case someone tries to try something.  She is a beautiful girl and any man would be lucky to call her his. I just happen to be that man and I'm going to make damn sure it stays that way.

Jack is quiet in the backseat and I know he is apprehensive about returning.  This whole trip we hadn't discussed anything concerning his health.  I wanted him to feel free and unburdened, to get a taste of what being human can be like. 

Sure, mankind suffers but there is good in life too. I look in the rearview as I speak.

“This was a good idea, Jack. This trip. It was much needed,” I tell him and I honestly believe it.

'Thank you for showing me what normal is," he answers as our eyes meet in the mirror.  "And you're welcome. You got what you wanted too. You and Y/N make a pretty great team.”

“Why do you say that? This trip was for you, not us.”

"It was how you said it. I could tell. I guess my point is that-" Jack pauses as he looks out the window again. "-if I don't make it...The stuff I'd miss -- it wouldn't be things like Tahiti. Or the Taj Mahal. I'd miss more time with you. More time with family, my true family. I'm getting that life isn't all these big, amazing moments. It's time together that matters. Like this."

"Well, who'd have thought hanging out with a couple of lovesick idiots would make you sentimental?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood inside the car.

Jack looks up at me and says, "I've had a good life, Dean. And you and Y/n will too. Maybe eventually get married and have kids. You’d be great parents. You’ve taken care of me. Don't let what others think ruin your happiness."

The passenger side opens and Y/N climbs in with a bag in her hands. She deals out the licorice to Jack along with a package of jerky and a bottle of water for me.

It is only about a mile down the road that I have to pull off the road and douse myself in the water. She had jokingly bought me ghost pepper jerky. One piece and I was on fire! 

She and Jack sit in the car, cackling as I gag and dry heave, trying to get the heat off my tongue.

It is when we are almost back to the Bunker that Jack spills the beans.

“Dean, I don’t think you have to worry about Bobby being upset that you kept your and Y/N’s relationship a secret,” Jack says nonchalantly. “He is carrying a pretty big secret of his own.”

I see Y/N’s head turn and look at the nephilim child and smile. “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot.”

“What?” I ask intrusively. “What’s going on guys?”

It is Y/N that speaks. “Well, after everything happened with him finding us and Gamma Mary telling us about the pact, I overheard a conversation between the two of them. Apparently, we aren’t the only ones who has been fooling around behind closed doors.”

“Wha-?” I screech. Yes, my voice screeched! “Bobby and my mom?” 

"Calm down Dean."

"No. Don't tell me to calm down," he says. "I've been worrying about Bobby laying into me over you and he's-" Dean pauses as he swallows audibly, "-been banging my mom?!"

"You speak so eloquently," I laugh. "But yea."

"It began over there," Jack says nonchalantly,  still watching the trees go by outside the speeding car. "I dont think it's love……..yet."

I look over the seat at Jack and see in my peripheral Dean shiver in his spot. 

"Let's not talk about the L word just yet," Dean mutters and I can't help but stare at him.

'What does that mean?'

One Year Later

Life was great for a while in the bunker! The Winchesters, along with Castiel and Jack and a few others, defeated Michael and ended up fighting and conquering God himself.

 Along the way though, we lost a lot of people too, most importantly Mary Winchester.

Gamma Mary was taken out by Jack, who was infected with everything they’d done to stop Nick from resurrecting Lucifer and allowing the demon to possess him. It was very touch-and-go there for a while; Dean wanted to take Jack out and actually denounced him from being part of his family but Sam still had faith that Jack could be “saved”. 

Bobby grieved like a man who had lost his one true love while Dean grieved the Mom he had gotten to know as a man and I was stuck in the middle, trying to comfort and soothe them both. 

Dean and I never had to announce that we were together, or dating; it was just a known fact once we returned from the trip with Jack. I always wondered if Sam and Mary informed the others or what, but our relationship was never questioned or doubted.

Once Chuck-turned-God-turned-evil, we all banded together to do as we always do, saving people and hunting things.  He was a formidable foe but in the end, with Jack’s help we crushed him and now the world was a much better place with Jack in charge. 

When Castiel was taken by the Empty, we grieved his absence but knew we needed to move on so that is what we did.

Sam, Dean and I, along with Miracle, move out of the Bunker and find a couple of houses in town to settle in.  We live out our lives as three of the people who secretly saved the world. 

A/N: And they lived happily ever after. The End. LOL 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @squirrelnotsam​  @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @akshi8278​ @lyarr24​ @wintersoldierwinchester @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​ @nancymcl​ @kazsrm67 @lostdarksoul6

[simultaneously-sick-and-calm]

[in reference to my old god!shiggy is wholesome mushroom fairy bf to old god!reader's cryptic insect symbolism s/o ask to get-shiggy-with-it for minor clarification as this isn't a request I just want to share this with someone and I've been welcomed and validated here so here I shall lay my keep and toss my tithe into your inbox good sir]

I imagine the first time they meet is after a wildfire. It was not one of the naturally ones, no this one was not accompanied by the thing that was not quite a man but not quite charcoal but seemed to favour the name Dabi. This was not one of those fires. This fire was from the perpetual buildup of the dry undergrowth until finally some hiker, probably a scout from another one of those oil companies that had cropped up again recently had the misfortune of playing with matches as they attempted to light is pipe. The man's screams were not pleasant, and the old being that some sometimes called Tomura and once called Tenko (but we'll get to that later family, just you wait).

It didn't like the fire, no, it ate away at the moss and lichen of the trees. The family of foxes beneath the old hollow found themselves in cinders and he did not like that he was left to turn over the soil. It was not rich as it might have been after a fire, he didn't like Dabi much either but he didn't hate the thing like he did this. Because at the very least Dabi had tact, he knew how to leave the right things untouched, this fire did not. So as Tomura, carefully began to turn over the earth, sowing seeds into the ground as the survivors of the tragedy.

He did not know exactly when he knew you were there but you were. Perhaps you were the spider that crawled out of the burnt husk of a crabapple tree. Maybe you were one of the crows that flew down to observe his work. He did not mind this company. So when you offered your help, he understood. This land was old. Older still than even he and even you, in the eyes of the land you were barely of age. Even if that gave you centuries on the likes of mortal man.

But the work of the rot had a tendency to be lonely. So when the spider offered it's silk and the butterfly struggled through the cacoon at the neck and call of a simple please, he was glad he excepted your help. Or maybe you excepted his. He wasn't sure.

He was fairly certain you might have been a witch once, before you were what you were now, which was something of the green. As was he. Not of the dark earth, or the boiling mines. Not of the creature who wore the faces of those they were not, not of the things that came to call on the village below the mountain, before it was ruins, calling themselves missionaries and bringing tales of a new, better, god.

And you knew that he knew and he knew that you knew what he once was. But you were now of the green. And so was he. And company was always welcome, so when he took your hand, at least so to speak. For how exactly two beings beyond the comprehension of anything I know now or knew or ever will know would do so is beyond me. But names were exchanged. And it was not the name you were called now, nor the one he was called now that was given.

No, the name that fell from your lips was not what you are called now. Simply what you were called then, and it tasted like tree sap and fresh grain, it tasted like honeyed meat and calloused hands, it tasted like suffering and pain and peace and change, and stories, it tasted like many things but most of all it tasted like chronicles. And his name tasted like freshly fallen dew, it tasted like the paradoxical chill of mist against one's flesh in even the most humid of places, it tasted like the bones that would one day see the sky as branches, it tasted like a great many things, but most of all it tasted or something akin to home.

And the thing called Tomura, the thing of rot and decay and green and foundations and loss and endings and new life was content to be known as Tenko once more, even if only to you.

— funky forest anon

FOREST ANON, YOU HAVE SLAIN ME!!! OH MY GOD THIS..this is stunning. I wil eat up this content as often as you deem me blessed to share in the crumbs. Humbly, I accept your tithe 💕

This is a stunning picture. The regrowth and the connections to the green. The understanding that they are both something now that they never could have imagined during the time when they were something else. ITS BEAUTIFUL.

These ideas of something that is "half-alive" or "not quite human" are just *chef's kiss* perfection. When @get-shiggy-with-it first stared talking about NotDeer!Tomura I was smitten with the idea and I think it's such a beautiful connecting thread through everything that haunts those hills, so to speak.

And the taste of a name. [Insert: MA HART, MA SOLE meme] I love it so much. The way that a name can be both so much and so little, if you allow it to. And the flavors you choose for these two I'm 😭🥺😍