#I feel like I need permission from someone to go crawl into a nest and cry

[kyofsonder]

Physically, I'm already lying down.

Emotionally, I feel like I need to find a soft spot and crumple dramatically to the ground and lay down for a few weeks.

[sugamamacustard]

Come see me

Pairing: Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo X Omega! Reader

Genre: Minor Angst, but other than that, fluffy cuddle piles. 

Request: Hi kinda nervous to request this since I'm very shy but..Is it okay to request a scenario where omega reader is feeling very insecure and jealous after idk like some new person comes in the pack and everyone is paying attention to them and reader feels very neglected but keeps quiet, starts spending more time with their friends and avoids the pack and their alpha. And then the pack plus alpha notices and drags reader back, and reassures them, and the entire pack cuddles and hug reader. Kinda like angst to fluff. Could be any team and any alpha. Though I prefer kuroo and nekoma. Sorry if it's too long I've always wanted an imagine like this. You don't have to do it if you don't wanna tho! I was just asking :)Have a good day💜

Summary:  Being a manager for Nekoma was a thankless job, but one you were proud to do. You were surrounded by alphas who wanted what was best for you and in turn, you wanted what was best for them. However, sometimes what’s best for them...may not be best for you or your omega.

Warnings: Jealous omega! reader, reader almost goes into an omega depression, small angst,

Author’s Note: No need to be shy, darling! This is my first request for this blog so I’m super excited to write this and to fulfill my first request.!

Requests: Open!

Tetsuro Kuroo

➵ Originally, the idea of another manager for the Nekoma team excited you.

➵ You were really pumped to have an extra set of hands on board to help keep scores, or pick up balls, or put up and take down nets. 

➵ To have someone else to joke and laugh with on the sidelines while Yaku was yelling at Lev, or to assist you in prying Kenma’s switch from his hands so he can eat.

➵ Having another manager seemed like such a good idea. A new friend for the pack. 

➵ Until it wasn’t. 

➵ Ichika was a kind and sweet girl in class 2-B (You were in 2-D), and originally you and her got along well.

➵ Your omega didn’t outright hate her, more of an indifference, and your personalities melded well together.

➵ And from what you’ve heard from her friends, she talked about the boys on the volleyball team a lot.

➵ So you figured she would be a good fit. 

➵ However, you weren’t certain on it anymore.

➵ Maybe she was too good of a fit. 

➵ ‘You’re being silly’ You told yourself. 

➵ ‘She’s getting to know the team, that’s all’ You practically chanted in your head like a mantra.

➵ ‘She’s honing in on our pack. Our alpha.’ Your omega sneered, padding in a circle before flopping down, growling lowly.  You tried reminding her that Kuroo was nothing more than a captain. 

➵ An attractive captain who who you found yourself finding every opportunity in the book to talk too. But that was fine print. 

➵ He was not your alpha. He was the commanding alpha of the volleyball team, but not yours. 

➵ And maybe that was what hurt most. Knowing you had Zero claim on anyone in the pack, therefore you had no right to demand the attention.

➵ They gave their attention to who they wanted. 

➵ Even if nowadays, it seemed to be Ichika more and more often then not. 

➵ It hurt, when you both would be sitting on the sidelines and Inuoka would brush right past you to chat with Ichika.

➵ Or when you both would be passing out towels and water bottles and they only thanked her. 

➵ It began hurting to the point you had to bite down whines or whimpers. Your omega was upset, therefore you were even more upset. But they seemed happy,

➵ Who were you to ruin that? 

➵ Just because you saw them as pack, doesn’t mean they saw you in the same light. 

➵ You tried pushing away that god awful thought, but it was planted and nothing was moving it. 

➵ And whether you noticed it or not, you were acting on that thought.

➵ You didn’t stay after practice for anyone, instead cleaning up quickly and efficiently while the boys were in the change room. 

➵ Leaving behind your notes for that day’s practice along with the gym keys right in front of the door. 

➵ You didn’t wait for anyone and took a different way home so no-one would try to walk with you.

➵ You needed to separate from them, even if it hurt. Even if you cried on the way home. Even if you stayed in your nest from the minute you got home to the minute you had to leave for school the next day.

➵ Even if your meals got smaller and smaller. 

➵ You never sat with the team anymore, Ichika taking your spot like she belonged there. 

➵ Instead you sat with a group of friends from your class. They never asked any questions, which you were thankful for. 

➵ You began wearing scent blocking patches to hide your scent, hide the sour note that almost always accompanied it. 

➵ You just...tried to disappear. You still fulfilled your manager duties as you always did, but never more. 

➵ Never gave words of encouragement. No pointers on how to improve. No jokes on Lev’s behalf. No nothing. 

➵ And holy shit, that Irked Kuroo. 

➵ He was always so excited for practices at the end of the day because that was when he would get to show off in front of you. 

➵ Prove he was a strong alpha. 

➵ He would admit, he liked you...A lot. He was even working on a future courting gift (It was a bracelet with intricate beading that looked almost like a cuff) but was having a few difficulties so couldn’t gift it to you yet.

➵ However, you were pulling away. 

➵ Away from him. Away from the pack. Just away. 

➵ You barely even glanced their way anymore.

➵ During practice, you just sat there, completed homework, then took notes. He never saw you after that.

➵ He tried to pack up as fast as he possibly could at the end of practice but was always late. You were always, without fail, gone. No trace of you ever being there except the notes you left in your wake with the keys. 

➵ His alpha kept barking at him to stop you. To come up with any excuse to keep you here long enough for him to walk you home in the very least. But you were always gone.

➵ He tried everything, but you seemed one step ahead of him. 

➵ His alpha blamed Ichika. Ever since she showed up you began pulling away.

➵ Were you jealous? Were you angry with them for trying to keep her away?

➵ They only put up with her because it was obvious you didn’t like her. So they tried keeping her away. 

➵ Was that backfiring on them? 

➵ Kuroo didn’t even know why there was another manager. You were perfect for them. Like a puzzle piece. Their personal cheerleader. 

➵ Maybe school was piling on you?

➵ No. You always went to him for help.

➵ Maybe the duties were too much?

➵ No because you were still doing them all.

➵ Come to think of it, what was Ichika even doing? 

➵ She did nothing except fawn over them and purr over their skills, which was nice for the ego boost at first, but soon just got annoying when she tried scenting them.

➵ It seemed she was fixated on him especially, trying to rub her neck all over him only for him to push her off with a growl. He had only scented two people in his life. 

➵ Kenma, because he needed the practice, and you, which was why he practiced. 

➵ And he planned to keep it that way. 

➵ But you were still staying away. So he scented no one. 

➵ The final straw was a Friday practice. 

➵ You were sitting a ways a way in the corner, doing your work with your jacket wrapped in front of you like a boundary. 

➵ His heart hurt at the thought of you feeling the need to recluse yourself like this.

➵ He made a motion to Kenma, his co-commanding alpha, who nodded before making his way to you. 

➵ As he should’ve predicted, Ichika intercepted him. She tried to hug him, but he dodged, side stepping and trying to get to you, but she persisted.

➵ “Why don’t you give me the same attention you give her, huh? Rumor has it she’s been bordering on dropping for days, nothing but attention seeking in my humble opinion.”

➵   He paused in his efforts, looking down to her once more.

➵ “I’m sorry?” 

➵ Ichika rolled her eyes. “It’s been all over school. Surprised you haven’t heard. She skips lunch more often than not, nowadays. People have even started bets as to when she finally drops. Real shame though. Gonna miss having someone else do all the work.”

➵ You were missing lunches. Lunches were meals he could guarantee you ate, and you suddenly weren’t doing so anymore. He was failing you.

➵ You were dropping right under their noses and as your pack they were watching it happen. 

➵ As your head alpha, and hopefully future alpha, he was watching you drift away and ultimately fade from him.

➵ He was watching this happen?!

➵ What part of this was okay?! None of it. 

➵ He was loosing you. Hell, if he hadn’t lost you already. 

➵ No. You were here, at school, He still had time. He still had a chance. He still had- his jacket and bento. 

➵  Turning tail, the alpha made his way to his bag, digging out the bento (Come to think of it, he hadn’t been eating much since this whole debacle started anyway) and grabbing his jacket before making his way to you once more.

➵ He didn’t pay any mind to Ichika, this time fully shoving past her to get to you. 

➵ You looked up to him skeptically, watching as the alpha, the head alpha, bent to lay on his knees, slowly putting the bento on his jacket and sliding it in front of you. 

➵ Your heart and mind were going a mile a minute as you watched the commanding fucking alpha of the pack, bow to you. Ask for your permission to get close to you. 

➵ What-

➵ “Hi?”

➵ Kuroo said nothing in return, only lowering his chin to the ground, looking up to you. Almost waiting for you to allow him closer. 

➵ When you said nothing he motioned towards the bento with a nod of his head. He was almost like a pup with how minimal his actions were. 

➵ When you slowly took the bento, he raised in time with the box, watching you open it. when you popped a small bit of rice into your mouth. He purred loudly, slowly inching closer. He laid his jacket over yours, adding another layer to your barrier, which you slowly moved to allow him in. 

➵ He crawled into your space, slowly moving your books and bag to nuzzle into your neck. You allowed him to, eating more rice-- which seemed to appease him. 

➵ One by one, more of the teammates came by, offering their jackets to your now makeshift nest, joining in on the cuddle pile. 

➵ All but Ichika, who seemed to angrily stomp about while cleaning up the few stray volleyballs. 

➵ But you didn’t really care about her at this point. 

➵ Your omega was at peace, especially with the alpha you’ve been pinning after purring into your neck, scenting you and pressing small kisses to your neck.

➵ This was your pack. Your home.

➵ And they wouldn’t let you fall behind. 

[yes-another-obey-me-blog]

Oh please write more about omega MC purring around the brothers 🙏🏻😭

Well since you're begging~

Lucifer:

- Out of all the brothers he's the most leery about the "omega purr" as you called it. The purr worries him as he remembers how much control you had over him.

- He's been spending lots of time at RAD lately his works been pilling up so much he can't leave his RAD office. His scent began to sour with stress, all other RAD students avoided the area around his office. For nothing is worse than a overworked, stressed and tired alpha.

- Your omega nose picked up on Lucifer's scent, instinct in high gear you sped off to his office. Your Pack leader needed you whether he admitted it or not and you were tired of him doing this to himself.

- Walking into his office you're greeted with the smell of burnt, sour coffee. He had eye bags, his hair was a mess from his hand running through it, he was even letting out small growls and baring teeth occasionally, broken pens and pencils around his desk.

- You started to slowly approach him, any sudden move could make him rage, your in his territory without permission, pack or not he could hurt you. When you got close enough, you started to purr. His head snapped in your direction, his pupils were slits, he growled and he started to bare teeth. A warning to leave but, you pressed on. Holding your hands up and showing some neck in submission and to let your scent out even more. You purred louder.

- Slowly he started to calm down, he stopped baring teeth and the growling gradually subsided. But, his pupils remained slits, he was still on edge as you were in his territory, he was calmer but not relaxing you did break a rule, never enter a someone's territory without permission.

- When you got in front of him you held out your hand and he gave you his with a look of confusion, he was still watching you. You slowly put his hand on your neck, right where the vibration was the strongest. Sometimes hearing the purr isn't enough, at those times feeling the purr helps even more. You were also giving him control, he could easily subdue you in this position if he felt threatened.

- But when his eyes started to dilate you knew he was finally relaxing. He pulled you into his lap and buried his face in your neck, he needed to feel you close. You continued to purr, feeling him relax as you started to fix his hair, all was well, all was calm... Untill Daivolo walked in

- You never thought you would see Lucifer growl and bare teeth to Daivolo. Or hear Daivolo scuttle out of Lucifer's office so fast.

Mammon.

- Mammon was the first alpha you trusted in the Devildom he was also the only one allowed in your room but, your nest was still off limits. You two spent lots of time in your room but this time its different. He nervous about something, his jaw is tight, and eyes are very focused. Very out of character for Mammon.

- When you ask what's on his mind he jumps and starts rambling about what happed last week, when you purred in the livingroom. You explained what a omega purr was and how it affects alphas. As you explain he gets closer and quietly asks if you could do it again.

- He doesn't want to admit it but he loved the feeling pumping through his veins when you did it last time. He can't say what it reminds him of but he'll admit it was an additive feeling. He was so excited when you said yes.

- You started to purr and his eyes quickly dilated, he was already lost to the feeling you gave him. Losing himself to instinct he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. His hands brushing against his pact mark, smiling as it started to glow.

- As much as you liked this feeling, standing was becoming an issue, he was starting to lean on you pretty hard and you were getting lost in the feeling of his hands brushing against your body. You slowly pulled away, and sat down on the edge of your nest and crawled in. You looked back at him and held your hand out and said "Alpha, would you like to join me in the nest?"

- His eyes dilated for a different reason this time. He launched himself in the nest and cuddled up close to you and you started purring again. He laid his head on your chest hearing you purr and heart beat. Your ran your fingers through his hair the way he liked and he continued to run his hands over your body.

- You felt safe and he was happy, he was the first alpha in your nest, he was the first alpha you made a pact with, and he was the first alpha allowed in your room. He was the first alpha to make you feel safe. He fell asleep in you embrace and you fell asleep in his.

- The next time this happens, your doing this in his room, he needs to show you his nest and have you start adding to it, so next time it's not your nest or his nest. It would be our nest, our room, our space. How do humans court again?

Levi.

- You two love to game together every night! And tonight is no different well, aside from Levi getting frustrated at the other players. He's dealing with trolls who keep killing him. Best of all there on his team. Yep he's getting killed from friendly fire.

- At first all you had to do to keep him calm was let some of your scent out and he'd settle right back down and go back to being your sweet happy gaming Levi. But, there was an event going on and the trolls were ruining it for him.

- He eventually turned on Voice Chat to ask what the problem was. Turns out they just wanted to troll one of the top players of the game and mess up his rank. That's when Levi's scent went from sea breeze to rotten fish.

- He went to demon form really quickly and you chirped about not destroying the game console. He muted himself and took some deep breaths like you tought him, the last thing he wanted to do was rage with you in the room, he got his demon form under control and you smiled at him and gave a small purr. His scent going back to a sea salt breeze.

- With a grin, he switched VC back on and tried to enjoy his game. Meanwhile when ever he got angry you would purr to calm him down. You never really tried to touch Levi when you purred, he was so afraid of touch it would scare him off. But he loved hearing you purr so he talked to you about it and this was the plan worked out.

- Unfortunately, Levi didn't notice he forgot to mute himself. The trolls were alphas just like him, he didn't notice untill someone said something derogatory about omegas. How they were nothing more than a hole that needed to be filled. He stopped playing and had murder in his eyes. It got worse when one of them asked if they could use Levi's omega for a bit.

- He saw he wasn't muted and let out a deep growl, asking if the player knew who he was and what he could do to him. Mc tried to calm him down by letting out more purrs, but that made the trolls get worse. Talking about how the could fuck Mc better, how they could be with a real alpha, all Mc had to do was purr so sweetly for them again.

- Levi switched to demon form again and the smell of rotten fish came back so strong Mc could hear the brothers rushing to Levi's room. All the brothers stood outside of Levi's room watching Mc try to calm him down. But they couldn't touch him when he was like this, Lucifer has control when he's like this, Levi dosen't. He could hurt Mc at this moment, he could harm his alpha brothers if they come in.

- Asmo was able to walk in and slowly get Mc out. Luficer asked what happed and when Levi told them, Lucifer gave the go ahead to summon Lotan. After Levi calmed down Mc came back he stared to cry and apologize and all Mc did was hold him and purr. He was rigid at first but relaxed, he held them until he was satisfied.

Satan.

- Satan is a simple demon, he likes cats, he likes books, and he likes you. But he loves it when you purr! Being the smart demon he is he remembered that a good book and a comfy spot made you purr so, he assumes that it could happen again. So he started to invite you to come read with him at all hours of the day.

- But you don't purr! No matter how good the book is or how comfy he makes his room! You don't purr and its driving him mad! So this time he's going to try something new, he pulls you down next to him and asks if you want to read with him. When you say yes he pulls you down and seats you between his legs, your back to his chest and opens the book in front of you. He even let's his scent out a little stronger than normal.

- He's a fast reader so he waits for you to turn the page before he turns it him self. It takes some time but you relaxed agenst his chest and he feel it before he hears it. The soft vibration, its finally happening! No, no, Satan keep yourself calm you could startle Mc. He stays calm but as the sound get louder and vibrations get stronger he's lost in the moment.

- Your scent, your sound, your looks, the feeling of you agenst his body, he never been to heaven but this must be what it feels like. He felt so at peace he felt a rumble start in his chest but quickly subdued it, why was he starting to growl? He liked this, he wasn't threatened he was happy, he shook the feeling off and continued being lost in you.

- You both forgot about the book and went for a cuddle session instead. You were just like a kitten like this! Purring, and nudging your head agenst his hand begging for attention, yeah he loved this. That feeling in his chest kept coming back but he still fought it down, he didn't want to growl and scare you off.

- Unfortunately you had to leave, having homework and all and he understood and let you leave. But he sat there and kept winding about the feeling in his chest, I wasn't a growl, but it felt simmler. He went to his books explaining human secondary sexes and opened up to human alphas.

- His eyes widened at what he read: similar an omegas purr alphas can hum the sound is simmler to a growl but it makes the omega respond differently. It relaxes an omega and can put them in a sedative state. This happens when an alpha is very pleased or relaxed around an omega. He smiled, and continued with the chapter, he had much to learn.

Asmo.

- Its safe to say Asmo is the most interested in the purr. He's part omega himself and wants to learn so Mc is dragged to his room one day after classes. He sits Mc down and asks how they did that thing with sound. Mc explains what an omega purr is and how it happens. Asmo wonders if he can do it.

- Mc really doesn't know if he can, Asmo is a gamma, and not a lot is known. But he had the urge to join in on the purr when Mc did it, so maybe he can. Mc first explains the need to relax first and Asmo has a solution, a nice hot bath. After promising not to try anything Mc agrees to take a bath with Asmo.

- Asmo pulls out his best oils, bath salts, soap, and candles for this bath, he holds nothing back he wants to purr. They both get in and take a minute to enjoy the bath, Asmo then gets close to Mc and starts washing their hair. First get Mc to purr and then he should join in, that's the plan. With Asmo's expert hands massaging their head they start purring quickly.

- The sound is so pleasant and soft he loves it so! Then he feels it in his chest, that feeling again that feeling of relaxing and small vibrations that want to be free. Asmo dosen't hold back and purrs! Well, sort of, his purr sounds like a blender blending glass. This makes Mc jump and Asmo stop.

- Poor Asmo is in tears, how can he have such an ugly sound come from him? Poor gamma is in hysterics, his scent only being covered by the smell of the bath. Mc is quick to move and try to calm him down, trying to explain his purr is out of practice. The sound he made was normal for young omegas to make when their learning to purr.

- He calms down after hearing that, the sound was normal. It's just like learning to play an instrument, the first time is just about trying to make a noise. Mc sits close and puts his hand on their neck, right where the vocal cords are and purrs again. Letting Asmo feel and hear the purr, like Mc's omega parent/friend/mentor tought them.

- It takes time, the bath has long run cold and the candles have since went out but, Asmo sounds less like a blender, it's not perrfect yet but it's much better. Once every week they take a bath together and practice purring, Asmo is not used to purring and it could harm his vocal cords if he does it to much.

- Asmo is very insecure about his purr right now so he dosen't purr around anyone else asid from Mc untill he gets the hang of it. He dosen't mind though, he love having little purring parties with Mc and he can't waite to show the other omegas in Devildom how to purr.

Beel.

- Beel is the kind of alpha that will seek out an omega purr whenever he wants. In public, dosen't care, RAD other alphas stay away because he's huge, at home, even better he can cuddle you there! After the first time he hears it he can't get enough of it!

- One of the things that make you purr is a good meal and he just loves that, you purr while he's cooking, when your eating and it feels like he's providing for you. That satisfies this big alpha. But eating is not the only thing that makes you happy, watching him work out does as well.

- Big strong alpha, getting even stronger is enough to make any omega happy, especially if the view is good and trust me it is. This was fine until another alpha tried to cut in, she was one of Beel's team mates. Another really big alpha but this one was not as sweet or kind as Beel.

- She kept on asking what you were doing here and if you needed an alpha like her to help. Talking about how it's so common to have omegas come here looking for a nice strong alpha to mate with. And she was willing to help you just need to ask, all you needed to do was make those pretty sounds again.

- It was hard to move, hard to speak, having an alpha like this to close and in your space was terrifying. So you started to whimper, this angered her and she put a hand on your shoulder she didn't want that sound. Little did she know that sound wasn't for her, you were calling for Beel, you were calling for your pack mate.

- Beel had grabbed her arm and was lifting her up by it, you heard her shoulder pop out of place as he held her up. Beel was in demon form and snarling at her threats were growled out nonstop. It took you holding him and purring to get him to put her down, mumbling about not causing a seane, and how Lucifer would not be happy if he destroyed RAD's weight room. He was still growling but put her down.

- He picked you up and started back for home, he was still in demon form when you both got home, you were still purring but he was not relaxing. When he stomped past the kitchen you noticed Belphie right behind you also with a dark expression. That's when you noticed it, the female alpha scented you, that's why Beel wouldn't calm down. How could he you smelled like an outsider.

- He placed you in his bed and started to grab extra blankets and pillows, and Belphie got you different clothes and had you change, after that you old clothes where taken out of the room with a hiss from Belphie. Beel came with the blankets and placed them next to you and stared at you. Wating for you to do something, you gave him a confused look, then it hit you he was waiting for you to nest.

Belphie.

- Belphie came back to the room and was still hit with the foren smell. He hated it it was enough to make him shift to demon but his brother was yet to calm down and you didn't need that. Beel was going on instinct, you were threatened and scared, now he's trying to have you feel safe again by giving you his space to nest. And slowly you started to.

- You moved the blankets and pillows in the place and order you wanted, you kept looking at both of them then you would change the place ment of something and slowly the nest took shape. You then pulled them both to the nest Beel took behind you, guarding your back and placing himself closest to the door. You laid in the middle, and Belphie guarded your front.

- After a few minutes you started to purr again and not in a I need to way, but in a I feel safe again way. Both alphas calmed down at the sound, it was not harsh like before when you were trying to subdue Beel but it was nice and soft. Beel finally dropped his demon form and calmed down letting out the occasional hum here and there.

- Belphie also started to relax, the smell of lavender reaching you. As you started to dose off, Beel as well, tired from holding back so much anger and power. Belphie knew Beel would be up soon, he didn't grab anything to eat on his way back and due to the lack of blood Beel didn't eat the perpetrator. Unfortunately.

- But this was nice, he had his twin and omega in a nest sound asleep. The sound of your purring puting him in a trance like state your scent filling his nose. Except for that one spot, his eye glared at your shoulder and he started to rub his neck there. Trying to erase the outside scent he's got a good enough whiff to hunt them down later.

- He never liked that alpha any way, she always challenged Beel for captain position, and trying to throw him off and now that she knew how to push his buttons it was time to hunt her down. But for now the soft purring was putting him to sleep, he could hunt her latter he knows her scent and he doesn't think Lucifer would mind if he took her down. But first sleep.

[mallowstep]

Reedpaw didn't know what to do. He'd told Mudfur what he saw that night in the apprentices den, but nothing had happened. Now, watching Hawkpaw seemingly fight something-another cat?!?-in his sleep, Reedpaw wished he knew what to do. His mom, Mistyfoot, always seemed to know what to do when things seemed bad, and she was always confident. Reedpaw flinched as Hawkpaw whimpered and whispered something--wait! -- that was a name the fur on Reedpaw's shoulder's fluffed up and his eyes widened. Tigerstar? Why was Hawkpaw dreaming about Tigerstar? The apprentice curled up, covering his eyes with his tail. Closing his eyes, the apprentice promised himself to talk to Mudfur tomorrow about spirits training cats, and if they could do it without Starclan's permission--and without the living cat's permission, either.

me: i need to go to bed

also me: answering this ask is a good idea

look i am approximately 15 minutes away from calm music so i think it is.

god yes! yes. good stuff here. i like. ah. okay. i dunno. reedpaw is maybe...doing math doing math...nearly six moons younger than them, i'd say. maybe this is around when feathertail and stormheart "disappear"?

(Reedpaw is going to ask Mistyfoot about it, because she'd know what to do. He sees Hawkpaw wake, somehow more tired than when he crawled into his nest, and he is decided.

"--just vanish!" Mistyfoot shouts. "It's Feathertail!"

He narrows his eyes. Feathertail is Hawkpaw's mother, and his older sister, and probably should have been higher on his list of cats to talk to.

"Mistyfoot, wherever she is, Stormheart is probably with her," Stonefur soothes. "They can't have gone far."

Reedpaw's denmates stumble out behind him.

"What's going on?" Mothpaw asks, yawning.

"Mistyfoot and Stonefur are arguing," Hawkpaw says. "She mentioned Feathertail."

"Great," Mothpaw groans. "Last time they were arguing about Feathertail..." She trails off, and Reedpaw ignores the urge to ask her what happened. Hawkpaw and Frogpaw clearly already know.

"So we'll send out a patrol to search for them," Stonefur says. "Where's -- is Shadepelt in camp?"

"Hey," Frogpaw says, "look at this." Reedpaw looks back, and he wraps his paw around a stone carefully. "Reedpaw, you didn't bring this in, did you?"

He shakes his head.

"Stones are Feathertail's thing anyway," Mothpaw says. "She likes the ones on the riverbed."

Reedpaw's denmates all look at one another, something unspoken passing between them.

"Dawnflower can lead the morning hunt," Mistyfoot says, "Skyheart, Blackclaw, one border each."

"Who do you want us to take?"

Mistyfoot flicks her tail. Stonefur presses his nose against her shoulder. She blinks a few times. "Dawnflower can take...Sunfish and Loudbelly. Skyheart, Blackclaw, you can pick who you want."

They nod.

"Hey, Reedpaw," Mothpaw says gently, "would you mind running a message to Mistyfoot?"

"She's right there."

"Yeah, I know. Just -- do you mind?"

He shakes his head.

"Okay. Just tell her we think Feathertail left us the stone, and Frogpaw isn't sure, but he thinks he saw her just before moonhigh. Got that?"

Reedpaw nods. Mothpaw licks the top of his head. "You're the best, Reedpaw."

"What about me?" Hawkpaw says, and Mothpaw bats at his ear.

Reedpaw trots through camp, sitting in front of Mistyfoot.

"Hey, Reedpaw," she says. "Everything alright?"

"Are you okay?"

She purrs, touching noses with him. "Just worried about Feathertail. It's not like her to run off. But -- I'm fine, love."

"About Feathertail -- there was a new stone in our den and Mothpaw says she thinks Feathertail left it, and Frogpaw says he thinks he saw her just before moonhigh."

Mistyfoot narrows her eyes.

"I'll talk to them," Stonefur says. "You can look for her."

"Thanks." Mistyfoot brushes her temple against Stonefur, and then against Reedpaw. "I'll be back soon," she promises.

"Can I come with you?"

She blinks, considering. "Ask Petaldust, but if she says yes, you can.")

that's Unrelated i just started rambling. i like writing mistyfoot.

(It happens again that night.

Hawkpaw huffs in his sleep, shifting. With everything going on, and Mistyfoot so upset over Feathertail and Stormheart's disappearance, this had slipped his mind. He'd talk to her when they found Feathertail, he told himself.)

but of course, they don't find feathertail. and -- hawkpaw, soon hawkfrost, becomes a smaller and smaller worry,

(Reedpaw bunts against Mistyfoot. She purrs softly, but doesn't move.

"Mistyfoot?"

She flicks her tail. Stonefur nudges his shoulder. "Let's give her some space," he says, softly. "I think Petaldust wanted to take you hunting.")

and their prey is dwindling,

("Mistyfoot, you need to eat," Stonefur says.

"Dawnflower needs to eat," she hisses. "I'll be fine."

Reedpaw's ears pin back. This is the third day in the row they've had this argument. Everyone is hungry, and it makes them angry and scared.)

so he forgets about hawkfrost, until

("Tigerstar," Hawkfrost babbles in sleep. Reedpaw sits up. He hasn't been awake for one of these moments in a long time, but hunger and fear has made light sleepers of them all.

He slices his claws through a piece of moss. This is a worse time than ever to bring it up, and yet--

Hawkfrost whines, his hindlegs kicking at an invisible enemy.

--it seems serious.)

so he finally finds a good moment to talk to mistyfoot.

("Can I -- ask you about something?"

Mistyfoot tilts her head. Reedpaw presses his forehead to her shoulder.

"About...I'm not sure, actually."

"Well, I can't promise I have an answer." She presses her nose to the top of her head. "But you can ask."

"Hawkfrost has been having these dreams," he says. "For a while -- I just, things have been so busy, and...anyway." He takes a breath, steadying his resolve. "He keeps having injuries that I don't think he got in training, and sometimes he talks, and..."

"What does he say?"

Reedpaw shifts. "It's kind of hard to tell how he means it," he couches, but Mistyfoot takes a step back, and Reedpaw folds under her gaze. "Tigerstar," he says. "He keeps saying Tigerstar."

Mistyfoot's ears fold back. She closes her eyes. Her tail tucks around her legs. "Thank you for telling me," she says, quietly. "I'll take care of it from here.")

not sure how that Resolves tbh. but. i don't know. maybe...

("Why wouldn't you talk to me first?" Hawkfrost hisses, and Reedpaw flinches.

"Hawkfrost," Mothwing cautions, "he didn't mean any harm."

"You see how you feel about it when Mistyfoot is asking you about Tigerstar," Hawkfrost says. "It was just a fucking nightmare."

His tail bristles, and Mothwing looks sympathetically at Reedpaw.

"I didn't know what to do!" he says. "And -- I don't know, you didn't seem like you wanted to talk about it."

"Yeah, no shit," Hawkfrost says. "Sorry, Reedpaw, but I don't generally feel like talking about Tigerstar."

"So what was I supposed to do?"

"Leave it be!" Hawkfrost paces for a moment, then huffs. "As if Feathertail being gone wasn't bad enough."

"She's not gone," Frogpaw says. "Just -- missing."

"It's been over a moon," Hawkfrost says. "She's gone. And someone had to tell Mistyfoot about Tigerstar, so I got to hear the, He was your father and this isn't to say you're a bad cat, but he was terrible lecture again."

Reedpaw freezes. "Tigerstar was your father?"

Hawkfrost stares at him, open-mouthed.

"Alright," Mothwing says. "That's enough. Hawkfrost, this isn't Reedpaw's fault. Everyone is hungry and no one is thinking clearly. Including Mistyfoot. Go -- find something for Dawnflower to eat, I don't know."

Hawkfrost bristles, but doesn't argue. When he's crossed over the river, Mothwing looks back at him. "Frogpaw, you want to be here for this?"

He flicks his tail. "You know Stonefur would explain if we asked him."

"Here or not?" she asks.

"Here." He sits up, licking her shoulder. "Thistle for brains -- did you think I'd let you do it alone?"

Reedpaw shifts, trying to figure out what's going on. No one has confirmed what Hawkfrost says, and he doesn't know how to understand it.

Mothwing and Frogpaw touch foreheads, before Mothwing turns back to him. Her eyes are a brilliant gold. Feathertail has blue eyes, Reedpaw thinks, like Hawkfrost and Frogpaw, but not like Mothwing.

She's not solid like Frogpaw, and Mothwing and Hawkfrost both have denser markings than her.

"No one told you who our father was?" Mothwing asks softly. "It's okay if they didn't."

Reedpaw folds an ear. He doesn't know who his father is. Dawnflower's close to kitting and as far as he knows, her kits won't have a father either.

Mothwing sighs. "Well -- yeah, it was Tigerstar."

"But he was evil."

Mothwing flinches, and Frogpaw wraps his tail around her. "We're pretty aware of that," he says. "Feathertail took us in, but...do you remember what Tigerstar did?"

"He wanted to...combine the Clans," Reedpaw says. "Into one, claiming it'd make them all stronger. He was ShadowClan's leader, and Leopardstar agreed, but he was just hungry for power."

"More or less," Frogpaw says. "Stonefur'd probably cover the details better than we would, but...Tigerstar decided half-Clan cats were all traitors, like Mistyfoot, Stonefur, Feathertail, and Stormheart."

He pauses, and this time, Mothwing jumps in, "So -- all four of them were unfairly...treated. Punished? Hurt? I don't -- he was cruel to the four of them, but especially Mistyfoot and Feathertail."

Reedpaw begins to understand. "I didn't mean to cause trouble for you," he says. "I was just worried about Hawkfrost."

"I know," Mothwing says. "And when he's not so angry, he'll realize that too." She purrs, licking the top of his head. "You didn't do anything wrong, Reedpaw. You were right to be worried.")

yeah. there we go. i'm going to bed for real now, i hope y'all enjoyed nearly 1.5k words of reedpaw being younger than his denmates against.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded: Chapter Six; Spring Watch.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie:

A hard man is good to find. [Mae West]

--

Jamie woke with a start, the alarm blaring in the background.

The dream had been intense and had left him panting, a sheen of sweat on his skin as he pushed the duvet aside and stood. As always it was light outside, the sunrise half blinding him as the blasts of orange and red permeated the old curtains. Washing the night from his skin, he plunged himself beneath the pounding rivulets of water coming from his power shower, his body temperature receding slightly as the morning wore on.

Fortunately Claire wouldn’t be awake yet and he could slip from the house almost unnoticed. He needed to get a good day of work done, and to forget the memory of his dream before he faced her again. The mere thought brought colour to his cheeks, the heat in his belly reminding him of how incredibly realistic it had been.

Delicate pink skin appeared without his permission and once more he could feel the remnants of it haunting him as he slid his wellies on and closed the door softly behind him. Working in a daze, he prepared his cows for milking, the heat of the morning fading slightly as the clouds rolled in. The animals barely paid him any mind, going about their own business as he fed, watered and tended to them.

She hadn’t snuck into his bed, as she had in his dreams, but she had infiltrated his thoughts and no matter how hard he tried, sporadic jolts of her came unbidden throughout the day as he worked.

She’s married, he told himself, although the argument felt pretty weak in his own mind. In the abstract she was, he could tell that she still thought herself that way despite starting her new life. Without knowing it, she often rubbed her wedding ring finger - though the ring had long since been removed. It was obvious she was struggling with the transition and who could blame her, it had only been a couple of weeks. She was still hesitating on her name whenever he spoke it out loud to her, the subtle twitch betraying her.

But she was beginning to thaw, the shocked reaction he received when he spoke to her growing less and less as time went on (which, secretly, made him smile).

The baby lambs were out in force as he pulled the sandwich from his rucksack - one Claire had made him the night before. He smiled to himself as he perched on the fence, watching his first time mums as they paraded their babies around the perimeter of the field. Food somehow tasted better when someone else had made it for him, the slight differences in style allowing him a great enough change in routine to be noticeable.

She, it seemed, had a penchant for adding multiple salad products on her ham sandwich. Whereas Jamie was always in a rush at 4am, trying to collect his thermos as well as various food items to keep him going for the day, usually he would just throw slices of meat on top of bread without much thought. Lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber and *butter*, however, made all the difference. He even had potato salad on the side and a bag of what looked like homemade crisps.

Before Claire had arrived, John had given Jamie a very brief update as to her situation. Knowing a limited amount, he gauged that the difficulties she’d encountered recently hadn’t really set in yet and, instead, she was going through some sort of nesting, using her time at Lallybroch to cook and clean, ensuring that her mind is actively kept away from thinking about much at all.

His mind needed something similar as the image of her pottering about in his kitchen whilst he was away brought to the fore those visions that had him startled awake this morning before his alarm had even a chance to ring and he shook the picture of her bare skin from his thoughts, turning back to his task list.

The orphaned lambs were thriving now. Most had been ‘adopted’ by other nursing mothers but he still had two rogue ewes who were waiting for collection - Rupert, his nearest (mostly by proximity but also by friendship) neighbour had offered to take them for him but had yet been unable to drive over to collect them. In lieu of this, Jamie had been spending time hand feeding them every day though he worried each time he left them that he might return to something unmentionable.

Luckily, they’d survived another night in the small outhouse and he crawled in between them, the straw poking and prodding him as he settled with the warm milk bottle. The first, the largest of the two, squirmed in excitement, rushing to plonk herself by his side and suckle noisily at the teet.

“Easy now, lass, there’s enough for the both of you.” He soothed, watching as she butted the bottle, falling to her knees as she fed. Sheep were notoriously terrible pets, losing their fear of humans when in contact for too long and he had worried this close contact wouldn’t be good for the ewes, but watching the smaller of the pair sit helplessly in the corner made him think of Claire.

An idea came to him all of a sudden as he moved towards the lone female. He could, if he wanted, take the lamb home that evening and leave her in Claire’s care. Not only would it give the poor wee thing a greater chance, it might give her something else to turn her attention to in the day. There was a large chance he’d lose this one if he didn’t do something drastic.

-- --- --

An odd feeling settled in her stomach from the moment she woke up. Though she couldn’t put her finger on what the issue was, she felt a strange atmosphere hovering around her. Her skin prickled as she got out of the shower and she immediately felt as though there was something she should be remembering but couldn’t quite hold onto the memory.

She’d heard Jamie leave this morning, which was odd in itself. Usually she was fast asleep at dawn, not waking until much later when the house was quiet and she was alone. But she’d been woken this morning by some forgotten thought or dream that she couldn’t picture from the second she’d opened her eyes.

After barely speaking for two weeks, the weekend had been a welcome change.

Conversation had not been forced or odd, Jamie had allowed her time for quiet reflection and had seemed really quite pleased with her suggestions for the upcycling of his old furniture.

She felt useful, finally. A feeling she hadn’t had in some time.

Putting herself to work, she opted for cleaning downstairs for the best part of the morning. There was still a lot of dust residue from the sanding epic they’d had on Saturday, even spending most of Sunday dusting and hoovering hadn’t removed it all, so she pulled the dyson from under the stairs and tried to be as thorough as she could be.

Like cooking, she had never considered herself to be fluent in the art of housewifery. Before...when she had been able, her time had been dedicated to studying. There had been a cleaner for such tasks and, even afterwards, she hadn’t *needed* to be useful in that way. Here, though, there was nobody else to clean, do the dishes or cook and she found that losing herself to each task kept her mind (and body) active.

Sitting with the remnants of her crisps, she decided that was the dish she’d been most proud of since her introduction to the kitchen. She found herself thinking of Jamie and hoped that he was enjoying them too.

Their food deliveries now consisted of a greater variety of produce and she’d been able to add some colour to his lunch - which she had been making every evening and putting into the fridge for him to take when he left in the mornings.

She felt pleased as well as shocked at how easily she had moulded to fit her new life here.

Happy with her efforts, she turned her attention to the bookshelves in the back living room. There were titles dating back hundreds of years. Thick leather covers with yellowed pages sat proudly amongst the newer softback novels. She could tell which books had been read just by glancing at the spines, though there had been fingerprints in the thin layer of dust that had been there only hours before.

They were categorised, it seemed, by the surname of the author, carefully and methodically organised so that each time a new title had been purchased, it had been added in the right spot though there wasn’t room for many more.

His taste was eclectic, from non-fiction books on farming, agriculture, holistic medicines and horticulture to the classics (neatly bound with multiple editions ordered together, oldest first) including Jane Austin, Victor Hugo, Descartes, Melville and Hemingway. Jumbled in were some biographies but she’d assumed those belonged to either his parents or sister as none had been touched for some time.

Her fingers ran over the spines, stopping to hover over the drawing and painting books she’d first read when learning to doodle on the post-it notes in the first few weeks. She didn’t stop until she reached a relatively new title that she hadn’t noticed before. There was ruffling on the edge, a clear sign of frequent use, and some damage to the corners. Pulling it from the shelves, she settled into the comfy armchair, her cup of tea now cool enough to drink, and began to read.

It was modern, eloquently written with intricate plot weaving from the moment she turned the first page. The front cover clearly denoted that of a romance but there was intrigue and art as well as carefully homegrown characters. Before she’d had time to digest the prose, the front door opened and closed and she blinked. The clock on the desk ticked loudly and she noticed that hours had passed without her knowing.

Placing the book back on the shelf, she decided to leave it where it was for the time being and come back for it before bed. Though the visuals she’d imagined for herself stayed with her as she stretched and went in search of Jamie.

A loud noise caught her attention and she burst out laughing as she walked into the kitchen to find him wrestling with a small lamb.

“A new friend?” She said, her shock fading quickly.

“Ah; lass, I need ye!” His words were breathless, his cheeks a vibrant pink from the exertion of keeping the lamb from darting off and wrecking the joint. “I have a challenge for you, if you’re up for it!?”

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Something More Than Friends

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader 

Warnings: None 

Squares Filled: Best Friends since Childhood for @spnfluffbingo​

Word Count: 1800ish (Yeah well we all know me and drabbling… rarely happens…)

A/N: This is my first fic for 100 drabbles to say I love you. Any SPN fics will be posted here while all Marvel related fics will be on my side blog @until-theend-oftheline​. You can find the masterlist with all the fics if you click on the link above. 

The prompt is: “Pull over. Let me drive for a while” - requested by @becs-bunker​ 

Betaed by: @blacktithe7​ - go check out her blog - she is awesome and sweet!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

You sat quietly in the passenger seat of the impala with the window rolled down and your hand playing with the cool evening air rushing by as Dean drove you towards the setting sun. You were both quiet, listening to the tones of Led Zeppelin streaming from the car stereo. You were heading back home, to the Bunker, to Sam and Cas, but the truth was, you already felt at home. This car, sitting in the backseat behind the brothers or beside the older Winchester whenever Sam was off doing his own thing over the years, that had always been where you felt the most at home. 

Just like Dean, you had lost your mom at a young age, but unlike him, you didn’t have any siblings. Even if John Winchester wasn’t winning any father of the year awards, compared to your father, he had been the world's greatest dad. You didn’t feel sorry for yourself. You never had. You had your share of luck even in the midst of all the shitty cards you had been dealt. Your drunken father had gotten himself killed on a wendigo hunt when you were ten years old, and Bobby had found you in the cave in the middle of the woods, because of course your father had thought it would be an amazing idea to drag a little girl with him on a monster hunt in the middle of the Washington woods. 

Bobby Singer had been the beginning of your luck. He had taken you in, and after a few weeks after living with him, you had met 12 year old Dean and 8 year old Sam when they were dropped off in Sioux Falls for a few day, while their dad went hunting for a nest of vampires a few states over. 

It had taken a few days and giving Dean a bloody nose for him to take you seriously. You hadn’t been trying to get into his good graces. You had just been an angry little girl that was tired of living her life from the outside looking in, so when Dean had told you “no girls allowed” for the hundredth time when he and Sam had headed for their secret hiding place in the scrap yard, you had lost it. He was bigger and stronger than you, but even if he had held back, you had held your own. You could see that by the clear admiration in his eyes as he pressed the back of his hand against his nose, and you muttered a quiet “sorry.” You hadn’t meant to hurt him, but Dean had just smiled and shrugged, waving you along, telling you that if you could punch like a hunter, there might be hope for you yet. 

Dean had always been infuriating and stubborn, but he had quickly become your best friend. He was the one you called when you needed someone to laugh with, a shoulder to cry on, or an asskicking partner on a hunt. So when the brothers had found the Bunker, they had naturally asked you to move into one of the many rooms. You had hesitated at first. Things weren’t as simple as they were when you were children, and your best friend, while he still was that, had become more to you. 

Dean and Sam had been the two constants in your life, but while Sam had become like a brother, you felt something very different towards your childhood best friend. You had been in love with Dean for years now. You just never told him, and you were sure you never would. Your friendship was more important to you than anything, and you were sure Dean didn’t feel the same way about you anyway. You were his best friend on the best of days and an annoying little sister on the worst. You were sure that was how he saw you, and you could live with that as long as you got to keep him in your life. When you had come to terms with the fact that that was how things always would be, you had agreed to move in with the brothers and their recident angel. You loved having a home for once in your life, but being so close to Dean hadn’t made your feelings lessen. On the contrary, you loved him more deeply than ever. 

A loud yawn from Dean, pulled you from your thoughts and you smiled when you saw him shake his head a few times, clearly fighting to stay awake. It had been a long hunt, and Dean had been the one to bury the bodies while you had gotten in a quick nap before you left. 

“Why don’t you pull over? Let me drive for a while?” you offered, reaching out to run your hand over his shoulder trying to loosen a few kinks. 

Dean briefly looked over at you, giving you a tired smile. “While you’re the only chick I’d ever allow to drive Baby, we’re both tired. You could use some shut eye too, Y/N/N.”

You grinned, lovingly shaking your head at him. “And while you’re the only man in the world that will walk away with all his limbs intact after calling me Y/N/N, there are no motels for miles, and you are about to fall asleep at the wheel Winchester.”

Dean laughed, throwing you a quick wink, before suddenly turning off onto a dirty road, still at full speed, making you gasp and reach for the car roof to brace yourself. Dean laughed at your little jump, and you shot him a glare as he kept driving you into the middle of nowhere. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Dean?” You scolded, but he just smiled at you, pulling over next to a huge oak tree in the middle of the field. 

“Who needs a motel when we got Baby?” Dean grinned, jumping out of the car heading for the trunk. He left you frozen in your seat. Sure you had slept in the Impala before. You even slept on top of one of the brothers a time or two, but not for years, and not since your feelings changed, at least not since you had allowed yourself to see that they changed. 

You still sat there frozen when Dean opened the back door and threw in one of your duffle bags along with a few blankets, before making himself comfortable. 

“You coming?” Dean asked, looking up over the seat at you with a smirk, and your eyes widened in surprise. 

“You want me to sleep back there with you?” you asked, swallowing hard, and Dean pushed himself up on his elbows, shrugging. 

“Not like we haven’t before,” he reasoned before reaching out his hand, offering to help you climb over the seat. You wanted to punch him in the nose like when you were kids, only this time, it would be completely unjustified. You weren’t mad at him. You were upset, but it wasn’t about him, and you wanted to kick yourself for the mere thought of hurting him. Dean didn’t know how badly he hurt you, and you couldn’t tell him. Not without giving away your secret. 

You didn’t move, and Dean sighed, lowering his hand. 

“Y/N I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable these past few weeks, but nothing has to change. You’re still my best friend,” Dean muttered and your eyes widened. You had no idea what he was talking about. 

“Made me feel uncomfortable?” you asked, still not moving but looking straight at him. “You haven’t - what are you talking about?”

“You know, lending you my jacket, getting you that extra foam vanilla latte crap, making you pancakes…” Dean ranted, and you frowned. 

“Dean what are you talking about?” you pushed, and Dean groaned, lying back down with a scowl on his face. 

“Nothing. Forget it.”

You weren’t going to forget it. You were utterly confused, and Dean seemed sad about something. No matter what, he was your best friend, and you weren’t going to let the day end like this. You never went to bed with things unresolved between the two of you, no matter how big the arguments had been at times. You were always back to being friends before you closed your eyes. You had lost enough in this life. You couldn’t afford the last words ever to be spoken between the two of you to be in anger or pain. 

“No. I am not letting anything go, Winchester,” you huffed, crawling over the seat to sit between his bowed legs on your knees looking down at him. 

“Talk to me, Dean.”

“Goddammit Y/N! Don’t make me say it,” Dean roared at you in a way that would make most people jump, but not you. You knew Dean, and you knew his bark was way worse than his bite. Besides, Dean had never hurt you, ever, and you knew that he never would. He could growl all he wanted. You just crossed your arms, staring right at him as he glared back at you. 

You had no idea how long the staring contest lasted before Dean finally broke. 

“Son of a Bitch” Dean grumbled before sitting up, not leaving more than a few inches between you. “I’ve been trying to tell you… well show you… Goddammit you are an infuriating woman sometimes you know that?” 

You sighed at Dean’s rant, letting your arms fall back against your sides. “Just tell me you idiot! I got no idea what you are on about!”

“I love you,” Dean blurted out, and you both froze. 

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, just looking at him, while Dean looked as if he couldn’t breath. It was as if time stood still, and all you could hear was the wind, making the old car creak as the two of you sat there in silence, caught in a moment you weren’t sure if you wanted to run from or never have end.  

“You… what?” You blinked, and Dean finally managed to suck in a breath. He reached out gently cupping your face in his hands, and you felt your eyes well up. 

“I love you Y/N/N. I know I shouldn’t and that you probably don’t feel the same. Hell even if you do I still shouldn’t. It’s dangerous enough to be my friend let alone…” Dean ranted. 

“I love you too.”

Dean stopped, and it was his turn to stare blankly at you. “What?”

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But I got no idea what you are talking about trying to tell me. You always make me pancakes.” You shook your head and Dean pouted. 

“They were heart shaped!” 

“I don’t know what shape they were but that wasn’t hearts,” you sassed, gasping as Dean’s lips crashed against yours. Your heart was beating, and your head was spinning as he kissed you, only breaking apart for air and muttering something about you being infuriating, but you didn’t care. You just grinned, kissing him again, not willing to ever let this moment go. 

Reblogs spread my work and make me happy. Got a favorite part/line? Did something touch you? Do you relate in some way? Please tell me and make my day. 

Dean Tag Team

@slowlywithfreedom​ @flamencodiva​ @deansgirl215​ @atc74​ @winecatsandpizza​ @blackcherrywhiskey​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @whimsicalrobots​ @torn-and-frayed​ @jadewritings​ @mogaruke​  @wayward-and-worn​ @super100012​ @blacktithe7​ @becs-bunker​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @ericaprice2008​ @danijimenezv​ @roxyspearing​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @supernatural13-13​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @akshi8278​ @miraclesoflove​ @impalaimagining​ 

[billyspotato]

Family [Part 2] - Dad!Billy Hargrove

[Requested]

Words: 2.620 words

Type: Fluff

Summary: You, Billy (and your 2 kids) go back to Hawkins for a high school reunion.

Warning: English is not my first language. Swearing. Mentions of Abuse. Sorry if I misspelled something.

Part 1      Part 2       Part 3 (Can be read separately)      Part 4       Part 5

A/n: Gif’s not mine :)

Y/D/N - Your daughter’s name

Y/S/N - Your son’s name

Billy wakes up from his peaceful sleep with sounds of a struggling child next to him. He opens his eyes and automatically turns on the light of the nightstand. The cutest sight appears in front of his eyes, his daughter trying to climb the bed that he’s in.

“What are you doing, princess?” Billy whispers and his daughter jumps in her tiny feet.

Billy doesn’t even know how she got scared since he even turned on the lights, but he still laughed.

“Up, Daddy” The kid says with her arms up in his direction, opening and closing her fists.

Billy unwraps his arm from around your shoulders and you just move a bit closer to his chest. He picks Y/D/N up from the ground and she sits down in front of him, with her hair looking like a bird’s nest and her face swollen from sleeping.

“I had nightmare, daddy” She whispers and Billy gives her a small smile.

“What was it about?” Billy whispers at her.

“About you and mommy” She whispers as a little pout started forming in her lips. “In my dream, you and mommy disappeared in beach” She says with her messy English as her eyes fill in with tears.

“Oh, princess” Billy says while pulling her close to him.

Y/D/N leans her head on Billy’s shoulder and he pulls the covers up to cover her small body. While she was in silence taking in the scent of her father, her eyes stayed glued on your sleeping form.

Billy starts rubbing his daughter’s back in silence, leaning his cheek against the top of her head. Y/D/N feels her eyes closing, even though she wants to stay awake and enjoy his hold for a few more seconds.

(…)

You wake up with Billy moving around on the bed and you open your eyes, and the first thing you see is him moving slowly while holding Y/D/N. You check the clock and it’s already 8am, the time that you planned on waking up to get everything ready.

Billy places Y/D/N back on the bed beside you. He looks over to you, not expecting to see you awake and you give him a small smile.

“Morning” He whispers at you with a cute smile. He comes closer to you and gives you a peck on the lips. “I’m going to go take a shower before we start getting ready”

You nod and he gives you another kiss before walking to the bathroom.

Today you’ll go visit some friends in Hawkins, have some kind of high school reunion, even though it’s only been 2 years. From what your friend told you over the phone, is some kind of lunch.

You look over at Y/D/N and you kiss her curly haired head.

“Mommy?” You hear a small voice at the doorway and you look over to see your son in his pajamas.

“Yes, honey?” You ask him and he walks to the bed, sometimes losing his balance.

You help him get up the bed and he crawls in between you and his sister. Y/S/N lays down and you kiss his chubby cheek.

He gets up sitting on his knees, after getting agitated of only laying for a few seconds, and looks at where Billy was previously sleeping.

“Daddy?” He asks pointing at the side of the bed.

“He’s taking a shower” You tell him and he nods before laying down again.

You play with their hair while waiting for Billy to appear, and it didn’t take long for him to do so.

“Family reunion?” Billy asks with a smile, while only wearing a towel around his waist.

You smile at him and he goes grab some clothes. He goes back in the bathroom and gets out, wearing some jeans that hug his legs and a red dress shirt, like always, with some of buttons unbuttoned.

Your son looks up and sits down quickly with his hair looking like a mess but still with a big smile in the direction of his father. Billy smiles at him and you get up from the bed. You go grab some clothes and go in the bathroom.

While you take the shower, Billy sprays his cologne and looks over at the bed to see two messy haired kids looking at him with their big blue eyes.

“Good Morning” He tells them with a smile and they smile back. “Let’s take a bath, shall we?”

Billy chooses to go give a bath to his son first, so he takes his kid’s clothes off after starting the water on the tub.

You finish your shower and you put on some jeans and a blouse so you can be comfortable in the heat of the summer. You brush your hair and do the rest of your morning routine.

You walk out of the bathroom and walk to the kitchen to start breakfast. You can hear Billy talking in the kids’ bedroom, so you guess that he’s dressing them.

You start plating the food for everyone while looking at the clock every few seconds. The drive to Hawkins is still a few hours. You really don’t want to get to the lunch late.

Y/D/N walks in the kitchen with one of her favorite pink dresses and she smiles at you.

“Oh, hi beautiful” You tell her before picking her up and giving her a kiss.

Your daughter giggles and hugs your neck. You put her down in her high chair and Billy later appears with Y/S/N on his hold.

You all start to eat breakfast as Billy places your son down on his chair.

(…)

After hours of driving and trying to entertain 2 toddlers that kept asking you if you’re almost getting there; you finally got to Hawkins and to your friend’s new house.

The front door opens right as you step out of the car and your friend runs in your direction with open arms.

After you get your huge hug, your friend’s attention goes to the kids sitting on the backseat of the car. Your friend always acts like she hasn’t seen your kids in months, but in reality, she visits you almost 4 times a month.

“Hi” She says with her baby voice as she pushes your seat to the side to help your son out of the car.

Billy chuckles at your friend as he holds his daughter close to his chest while closing the car door.

“Oh, you cutie” She keeps saying once she gets to grab your son close to her.

Once he’s out, you close the car door and you all walk to the front door of the house.

Inside the house, you’re welcomed with more hugs of some people from your high school. Some, you don’t remember their names, but you decide to act like you do.

You tried to hide your shock at the fact that you and Billy aren’t the only parents in the group, once you get the sight of other girls with babies on their arms and some guys as well.

Billy kept talking to some people while your daughter hid her face on his neck every time someone walked to her dad. You lean your head on Billy’s shoulder and your daughter lifts her head to look at you, you caress her cheek and she gives you one her cute smiles.

“Why are you hiding, baby?” You whisper at her and she shrugs. “Are you a shy baby, now?” You tell her and she gives you a fake scowl, making you smile at her.

You look around the room and find who you were looking for. You see your friend talking to some girls and your son looking between them, so confused. He doesn’t look sad, scared or shy. Just confused with where the hell he is.

“Let’s go sit at the table outside, we’ll wait for everyone else seated” Your friend tells everyone and you hear everyone sigh in relief.

Billy looks over at you for a second and you give him a smile.

You all walked to the backyard of the house and you can see a bunch of tables together making a perfect long table, but also making you notice that there are still a lot of people to come.

You sit next to Billy and your daughter starts having a conversation with him.

A small girl appears between the 2 of you and she looks up at your daughter.

“Do you want to play with us?” She asks and Billy looks at her, and then to his daughter.

Y/D/N looks at Billy as in asking for permission and he nods at her, making a big smile appear on her face again. Your daughter nods at the other girl and Billy puts her down on the grass.

As your daughter ran with the other girl to the other side of the big backyard, your friend calls you.

“Y/N, can you come help me with something inside?” Your friend asks you and you nod at her.

You walk to your friend, who is sitting on the corner of the table, and she gives your son back, so you can take him.

You go back to your seat and Billy pulls his son to his lap. You smile at him and your son lays his head into his chest as some more people started to appear.

“I’ll be right back” You whisper to Billy and he nods.

You walk to the kitchen with your friend and she pulls a desert out of the fridge to show you.

“Does this look bad?” She asks you and you tilt your head to your right to look at it better.

“Well…” You start, “It’s the taste that matters, right?” You tease her.

She gives you a scowl, making you laugh out loud.

“I’m kidding” You tell her.

“You’re the worst, I swear” She says trying to keep a serious look on her face, but she’s starting to struggle.

“It’s not that bad” You tell her while looking at the cake that is badly covered with frosting.

“What should I do to fix it?” She asks you and start thinking.

“Do you have sprinkles?” You ask with a smile.

“Yeah”

“Cover it with sprinkles, kids eat anything with sprinkles” You explain to her as she starts looking in her cabinets for sprinkles.

Your friend pulls two bottles of the sugary and colorful bits and she starts putting it on top and on the sides of the cake.

“Hi” A voice sounds behind you and you turn around to see Nancy and Jonathan, your old class mates in English class.

“Hey” Your friend says, not looking up from the cake, while you just give them a smile.

You don’t really know them, you don’t think you’ve ever had an actual conversation with any of them. You’ve talked to Nancy, maybe to ask for a pen or pencil, but Jonathan, probably not even a word. It’s not that you didn’t like him, you just never felt the need to ever start a conversation with him.

“It’s good to see you again” Nancy tells you and you give her a small smile, “You disappeared after graduation”

“Yeah, I was getting tired of Hawkins, to be honest” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Yeah, I get it.” She says and you chuckle at her.

“How’s Mike?” You ask her just to make small talk.

“The same. Just taller” She says with a smile. “Same with the rest of the group”

Steve appears behind Nancy and Jonathan and he looks shocked in your direction.

“Oh, hi” He says, “Didn’t expect to see you here”

“Didn’t expect to see you either” You answer and your friend finishes her piece of art next to you.

“Are the kids coming?” Your friend asks Steve and he nods.

They all continue to talk until Max and the rest of the group of (not anymore) kids walk in the kitchen. Max’s eyes come to you and she pulls you into a hug.

“Missed you” She tells you and you hug her back.

“Missed you too” You whisper into her hair before kissing her forehead. “They’re outside” You tell her and she pulls away quickly in the same second.

“Really?” She asks and you nod.

Max pushes everyone out of her way to go play with her nephew and niece and you smile at her.

“Who’s outside?” Dustin asks Steve and he shrugs.

“Alright guys, this kitchen is not where the lunch is going to happen. Backyard it is. Come on, chop, chop!” Your friend says once she puts the cake inside the fridge once again.

You walk outside with your friend, to be welcomed with the sight of Billy and Max playing with Y/S/N on her lap. You go sit down with them and the rest of group walks out to the backyard.

They all sit down and some of them see Max playing with a kid on her lap, while Billy kept looking at them.

Your attention goes to a little hand on your leg and Y/D/N smiles at you.

“Hi, princess” You say to her and she smiles more.

You pick her up and set her on your lap while she looks at Max.

“Hi, Aunty Max” She says while waving her chubby hand on the air.

“Hi” Max says with a smile.

You lean back on the chair and your daughter starts moving around on her lap, Billy looks over at her and she stretches her arms in his direction, opening and closing her fists.

Billy picks her lap and sits her down on his lap. She really is the daddy’s girl. She stands up on Billy’s lap and throws her small arms around his neck, hiding her face on the crook of his neck. You smile at Billy and he smiles back.

Your friend and her boyfriend start bringing the food to the long table and you lean your head on Billy’s shoulder.

Not too far from you, all Max’s friends, Steve, Nancy and Jonathan look at you all in shock, but they decide to go sit down. The only spare seats are next to you and Max.

“He’s so cute” Nancy says when looking at the kid next to her on Max’s lap.

“I know, right?” Max asks and you look over at Billy.

“Did you know they were going to be here?” Billy whispers and you shake your head.

“Not really” You say when leaning close to Billy.

He pecks your lips and you smile at him.

“Aren’t you a softy?” You tease him and he smiles at him.

“I am” He admits and you chuckle at him. “Only for some people, though”

(…)

After some time, you all ate and your daughter is once again playing with some kids, but your son is asleep on Max’s arms, who is completely loving it in silence.

Billy is on the other side of the backyard drinking beer with another guys, acting like a complete dad.

You keep laughing with your friend, Max, Nancy and El sometimes joining in the conversation.

Billy’s eyes after a few minutes always go to his little girl, who kept running around on the grass with a huge smile on her face.

But he looks at her once again to find her sitting down in front of a little boy.

Billy’s attention left his friends and went to his baby girl. The little boy holds out a pink flower in his daughter’s direction and she just blushes and smiles at the boy, taking the flower.

“Oh, hell no” Billy says, putting down his beer while glaring at the boy. You in meantime laugh at his reaction, on the cute sight.

- - - - -

I’m sorry if it’s not as good as the first part!!

- - - - -

🌸✨Sorry, but I’m not writing in this account anymore. Go check out my new one @twinklelilstarkey✨🌸

[imlostinsantacarla]

Title: The Golden Serpents (Jane Volturi x Reader!Platonic)

Summary: The reader (a savage newborn) finds themselves before the Volturi in which to pay for the awful crimes they have recently committed. However, during the course of their brief trial, something ignites the darkness in them, something they desperately wish to keep at bay. The brief ordeal creates an electrifying show that wins them a high place in the Volturi... snug between two ominous cherubs for all eternity.

Word Count: 2,534

Warning’s: this is not a love story!, violence, pain, semi-manipulation?. let me know if I’ve forgotten anything.

Proof Reader: @roslaeahle​ ( literally, tysm for your help!! (: )

A haze of golden honey illuminated freely from the arched windows, high up in the throne room on a hot Italian summer’s day, and onto the empty space before the long standing kings of the vampire realm; a place designed for criminals such as yourself, destined to enunciate all of the cruel and dreadful crimes that you had committed. The most vital of all was the fact that you’d foolishly made yourself aware to the humans of Volterra with your savage newborn hunger, a dangerous testament to the knowledge your maker deigned to share before they had abandoned you during your painstaking change; leaving you at the mercy to the roaring dryness that impaled your throat every single time that the scent of luscious blood and bounding sounds of pumping hearts caught your senses.

In frequent cases, a newborn would have been extinguished without a single thought, but the stories and mental visions of your beauty and power was breathtakingly scrumptious to Aro that he simply could not risk the chance of allowing you to part with this world without witnessing it for himself first. It would be all too deviant of him and his fellow kings to allow such a vital and alluring gift to go to waste in the depths of hell, particularly so soon in the immortal life. 

So here you stood, your frame twitching with an edge to it that was impossible to curb away without any form of frequent and strict lessons dedicated towards control, and your feral gaze cast itself in swift shifts across the room, picking up the porcelain faces surrounding you, those rich ruby orbs gazing into your soul with a piercing ache that only centuries of being cooped up could and would create. You were a young deep beauty, innocent to them, yet with the power to tear them apart in an instant if it wasn’t for the largest of this unruly coven holding your arms behind you with a force that could rip them off in one sudden move. The restraining grasp caused your eyes to strike with a vivid shine, twinkling so intensely with the blood of your beloved victims, none of the three kings could find even a scratch of sympathy for what you had done in your liquid gaze.

“Demetri, Felix,” The man in the middle with skin that appeared as thin and delicate as tissue paper breathed with a higher purpose, it only left your knees buckling and your breath hitching in your strong chest. “Bring them forward to me.” His eyes locked onto yours as they pushed you forward, hands still attached to you, without a second thought. Your knees crushed the ancient stone beneath you, smashing it like soft butter. Your breath halted once more and altogether, a now meaningless exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide, and your almond shaped eyes shut instantaneously, crinkling at the edges of what was to come.

“Now, now my dear…” He breathed, hand smoothing your frizzy yet smooth hair, though his voice was like a sociopathic angel’s, “no need to be frightened. I just want to see.” And the way he said it created an imaginary set of  goosebumps to rise onto your frozen flesh before  the tips of his fingers smoothed and skimmed over the apples of your icy cheeks, as though he were brushing away the tears that should have been there. An act of such false compassion, you wished he’d already let them kill you. But he only left you with a sense of intrusion and violation as he read your thoughts with no permission, as though you owed it to him in conjunction with your everlasting loyalty.

An eerie chime escaped his mouth as he tipped his head back and cackled. “So interesting! So powerful!” He gushed with the intensity of a child, a totally different personality from the fierce and terrifying judge he had been only two minutes prior when you had been silently begging for your life.

Your eyes snapped open with fierceness whilst a pulse of electricity flared through your veins, serpents dancing in and thawing out every frozen cell of your body, bringing you to life. He withdrew his hand with the help of a woman behind him, a shield coming up to block the physical attacks you so desperately wished to inflict on him and him alone. Your eyes began to shift from the vividly crazed crimson to a deep and golden amber, your hair wild and curly, fluttering from the way your body seemed to vibrate. With a flick of his fingers, Felix and Demetri lunged at you with such calculation you were surprised you managed to catch them the way you did, arms spread out, hands gripping nastily around their strong throats, though your strength didn’t last long; Felix was just as strong and overpowered you in mere moments, forcing you to your knees a bit further back.

A yelp of pain illuminated from your lips before your changed eyes settled on a cherub-like child with a mop of brown hair on top of his small head, but what horrified you the most was the velvety smoke of black sliding from his wrists and down onto the ground, crawling with a purpose, like a black jaguar, jaunting and calculated. You had a sense it would damage you in ways you could not possibly fathom, which frightened you the most. And as panic settled, you struggled uselessly against the two vampires restraining you until the smoke was an inch away, threatening to suck your senses into it and leave you with nothing.

The electricity burst from your being, colliding with the two vampires that restrained you and hurled them back into the wall a hundred feet behind you with such force it pulverized the stone bricks that  they’d smashed into. They dropped to the ground with a crash, two lumps of granite no longer in control of their bodies but fully aware of what was going on. You slid back with the force, attempting to distance yourself from the ominous smoke, though it did little to help as it followed you with a mind of its’ own, delirious for the fact it wanted to consume you like a mouth-watering meal.

From the sides of your torso jutted out two golden silhouettes, slithering viciously with scales so detailed they appeared to be living priceless art. Mouths became agape at the beauty they relished, the smoke halting in place for a fraction of a second. They ejected from your sides, coursing with lightning only Zeus could possess before they hurled themselves at the young boy…

In all your life as a human, you’d always buried your darkness so deeply, but in your new form all it wanted was to escape it’s repression and wreak havoc; almost a pitiful revenge against the angel-like side of you. And for most of your mortal life the good side had been winning, but you were finding in your new body that the darkness was the only way for you to prominently survive out in this harsh world full of ghouls your parents had once told your over active imagination nor to worry about. And you couldn’t even remember if you were sorry to let this dauntless part of you inflict damage onto others or not… It had been so very long since you had allowed it at center stage.

A monstrous crack erupted through the focused room and the brown haired cherub buckled to the ground with a scream you swore your heart was torn in two. This wasn’t what you wanted. This wasn’t what you needed. Death was surely better than this, wasn’t it?

A scream tore your attention from the boy, a small girl, barely thirteen and just as angel-like as the boy made eye contact with you. For a moment all you could focus on was her delicate fare features, so snow-like she appeared dead; and her hair was as white as angel feathers, it almost made you smile. But before you could react, an agonizing pain seared through you as though somebody had branded you with a glowing red hot iron rod, as though you were boiling alive. And you screamed so loudly your knees buckled beneath you and had you writhing in place, your serpents of liquid electrifying gold fell to the ground, squirming on either side of the boy, attempting to return to the vessel from whence they came from. A sob raked from you as you sucked in air. You felt as though you were drowning, so much pain erupting in your lungs you felt lightheaded.

And what felt like centuries that drew on and on were only mere seconds before Aro lifted his hands and murmured softly to the poor little girl who had tortured you. The pain halted and you laid there painting for a few moments, exhausted but taken back by the breathtaking beauty this child-like creature bestowed. You were almost glad you never got to officially come face to face with her brother’s powers.

“Enough, Jane.” The snow white haired man uttered, articulating each syllable with importance. She stopped, though would not quit staring at you with the anger and rage of a child; the dangerous look of vengeance plastered on her countenance. She was unhappy with you and a part of you wasn’t bothered by it at all, only grateful that someone had stopped you from combusting under her cruel glower of hatred.

You sat up just in time for the other guards to begin regaining feeling in their limbs, their red eyes still staring at you unblinkingly. The serpents deftly slumped towards you, wriggling up and down more like worms now as they sought out the comfort of your ice cold body, their vessel in which you carried them. A sigh of relief broke out of your slightly parted dry lips as they molded into you once more, an exhaustion taking over you whilst they settled, nestled inside of your embrace like injured children needing nurturing reassurance.

“I think we may have come to the conclusion that a gift such as yours, although we know little about it, may provide some astounding service to our coven.” Aro spoke up, legs crossed as he stared down at you with eyes that scared you; eye lit aflame as though he would personally kill you himself if he could not have you in his collection of gifted vampires. You swallowed thickly, chest rising and falling, rising and falling and repeating for several minutes.

“I would advise you to accept the offer with the utmost of gratitude.” Caius snapped immediately, a glower settling his countenance immediately, “It’s a gracious gift after you broke the most eminent law of our kind. One in which your creator should have informed you on, but I am sure we can find him or her and bring them in to punish them for the crimes they allowed you to commit.” He snarled impatiently, tightly gripping the armrests of his black elegant throne.

“I rather don’t think that’s necessary, Caius. We do not seek out punishment on those that did not do the crimes.” Aro stated matter-of-factly, leaning back in his seat as his eyes never left your frozen form. Caius went to open his mouth but with a wave of Aro’s hand Caius clamped his clamped his mouth shut with much reluctance. “I mean, after all, how could she deny such a wonderful opportunity to provide such a charitable role in our coven?” The way in which he stated this made you wonder if he really meant what he was saying.

“So, what do you say, (Y/N)? Will you join us or will you leave us?”

“I will join.” You hummed the words so softly it only sounded like a sigh to you, but was enough confirmation for Aro.

“Wonderful!” Aro clapped astoundingly, rising from his seat with an excitement that put you all the more on edge. You tilted your head to the side, wondering what on Earth had created him into being who he was now. A bewilderment shot through you, a honeysuckle glow catching your breathtaking skin and illuminating it as though you were made of tiny crystals. You hadn’t entirely figured out what you had gotten yourself into, but there was a numbing of all those that you felt ties to at one point, a sudden sense of loyalty washing over you for the three treacherous kings before you. Two of them beamed at you whilst the other scowled as though he wished he were dead.

“Welcome then!” Aro clapped enthusiastically as though it were meant to be a warm welcoming, and others joined in too, the sounds of their stone-like hands ringing in your ears.

“Master Aro!” An innocent voice like honey rolled into your ear drums as you turned to face it’s creator. The blond little girl’s eyes flickered from you to Aro and then back again.

“Yes Jane?” Aro seemed to soften his features towards the girl before him, as though she were his prized possession. You shivered at what you noticed and waited patiently for her to respond.

“Does that mean we get to keep them forever? Alec and I can play with them whenever we want?” The way she said it was a little eerie, but innocent and round as her crimson eyes.

“Yes, dear Jane. (Y/N) is now apart of our coven and here forever. You can play with them whenever you desire.” He rubbed his hands together before placing them over his mouth to suppress another giggle of terrifying joy.

“Yay!” She squealed, dragging her brown haired brother to his feet and skipping over to you with the grace of an angel. She took your hand in her small one and looked up at you. “We’re going to be best friends, you and I. But before we can get there you have to apologize to Alec for hurting him like that.” Her little bottom lip dropped down into a small pout, eyes so wide they were like two full moons. She really meant it when she said it, the sincerity was there. It was strange because only moments ago she was tearing you apart from the inside, and now she had settled on the fact of being your best friend for eternity, on the condition that you apologized to her brother.

A smile crept onto your face as though you were under a spell and your head shook from side to side in amusement as you came to your feet, hand still holding her very own with a tenderness a parent had for their child. “Only if you promise never to do what you did to me again. Then and only then will it be a done deal.” You tilt your head to the side, eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement and she gave you a determined nod that you could have believed, but you knew deep down her temper was wild, unruly because she would always have the mentality and temperament of a young girl with a cruel past created by a terrible village so terrified of her and her brother.

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[waiting4inspiration]

Just Try XVII (Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader)

Summary: Lately, you’ve been feeling different and blame it on stress for the mission. And it’s making you nest

Warnings: This is like super fluffy…

Just Try Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

As the days went by and the mission drew closer, the tension was definitely high in the compound. Training became more vigorous and you became more tired. The mission was next week and you were stressing about it - for some reason.

Maybe it was because you felt sympathy for the omegas being imprisoned and tested on and felt pressure to help them. Or maybe it’s because this is your first mission in years. You don’t really go out on missions unless it’s a huge thing that needs a lot of hands. Something like this one where you have to scout an enormous building quickly and get every omega out in (probably) under 5 minutes. So, yeah… Definitely stressful. 

The entire situation made you stress-eat. You found yourself searching for snacks and food quite regularly much to your own dismay. The most frustrating thing about stress is the fact that you felt bloated all the time. 

Wiping the sweat off your forehead as you walk into the kitchen, you’re desperate for some water after a workout session with Nat. You thought that working out might make the bloating go away or at least let some of the stress die down. But it didn’t really help. 

Opening the fridge to get a bottle of water, you catch the scent of something unpleasant. Turning up your nose, you groan as a wave of nausea washes over you making you quickly shut the fridge and step back. 

“Hey, you okay?” Nat asks as she walks into the kitchen, catching you stare at the silver fridge in front of you. 

Glancing at her slightly dazed, you nod your head before looking back at the fridge. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” you say, turning around and leaning against the counter. “I think we might need to clear out the fridge. Something smells off.”

“Probably some leftover takeout that Tony forgot about,” she mutters, rolling her eyes and making you chuckle as you take a sip of water from your bottle. She opens the fridge and stares inside for a while before closing it and turning around to face you. “I don’t smell anything.”

You frown at her for a while before turning back to your water bottle. “Maybe it’s an omega thing,” you murmur, grabbing your bottle and heading towards the door. “I’m going to take a shower,” you shout over your shoulder to her before walking out the door with a hand over your stomach, still feeling slightly queasy. 

Taking a long, hot shower to relieve the ache in your joints from the workout. Thankfully, breathing in the steam from the shower helps the nausea disappear. After getting dressed in something comfy, you stand in the middle of the room and run your finger through your damp hair to untangle it. 

As you work on your hair, your eyes burn into the bed a few feet away from you. Pulling your hands away from your hair, you gently bite on your nails as you run your eyes over the bedding, the blankets, and the pillows laying on the bed. Shaking your head, something inside of you tells you that the entire set up is not good enough and that it’s missing something. Something like more blankets. And pillows. 

But you can’t just go into someone’s room and steal their bedding. 

Thinking about the abandoned room that Bucky was using before he moved in with you, you quickly turn to the door and walk down the corridor with purpose. Going straight to the room, you quickly throw open the door and smile brightly at the sight of the unused bedspread in front of you. It’s perfect. 

Ripping the blanket off the bed and wrapping the pillows in it, you catch a hint of Bucky’s scent still slightly embedded in the material. It makes you smile even more. 

Making your way back to the room as quickly as you can, you shut the door behind you before clearing the made-up bed of its contents. Staring at the piles of bedding, blankets, and pillows by your feet, you start to slowly and strategically place them on the naked bed. 

You stop every now and then to think carefully about your next move. It’s as if you’re playing chess and need to think about every move to have a victorious ending. Editing and re-editing the layout of every single pillow and blanket, you finally step back and examine your work. 

Letting out a satisfied sigh, you gently crawl onto the comfortable and cozy spread you’ve constructed so carefully. Nuzzling a pillow under your head, a frown creases your forehead as you quickly sit up and glance over the setup again. 

Something’s missing. Instinct tells you that you need something that smells like your alpha. Something stronger than a pillow or a blanket.

Quickly jumping off the bed, you make your way towards the drawer containing a few on Bucky’s shirts. Sorting through them to try and find the one you want, you let out a frustrated sigh when none of them appeal to you. 

Falling back onto the bed, you let out a desperate whine as the feeling of that one missing item nags at you constantly. Rolling onto your back, you stare up at the ceiling and wrap your arms around your body as the nagging persists at you like an annoying mosquito. 

The second Bucky walks into the room and his scent hits your nose, you quickly sit up and stare at him. That when you realize what it is you need. “Your shirt. Give it to me,” you demand, pushing yourself off the bed and stomping over to him. 

“What?” he chuckles, pulling his eyes away from the strange set up on the bed to frown down at you. 

You pull at the hem of his shirt and look up at him with demanding eyes. “I need it,” you whisper, roughly pulling it over his head before returning back to the layout and leaving him standing shirtless in a confused daze. 

Crawling back on the bed, you precisely place the shirt where you want it and let out a sigh of relief. “Are you… nesting?” Bucky questions with a small laugh, pulling you out of whatever trance you’ve been in for the past few minutes. 

Staring at him, you quickly glance over the nest that you have indeed made and you chuckle at yourself. “I guess I am,” you whisper, looking back up at him as he steps closer. 

When he tries to touch the blanket on the edge of your nest, you let out an instinctive growl making him step back with his hands in the air. “Okay. I’m not going to touch it,” he states, trying so hard not to chuckle at you. Sitting up on your knees, you lower your head and mutter out an apology as your fingers play with the material of his shirt that smells so richly of your alpha. “Why are you nesting?” he gently questions, making you slowly lift your head back up at him.

“I don’t know,” you say, shaking your head lightly as you look around you. “I think I’m stressing about the mission so much,” you start to explain, feeling a lump form inside your throat and tears to line your eyes. “And I just needed something to comfort me and I just had the sudden urge and I didn’t know what it was but I just followed it and turns out I was building a nest.” By this time, you’re properly crying, unsettling Bucky because he wants to comfort you but knows that you’ll bite his head off if he tries to enter your nest with your permission. “And now I’m crying for no reason. And I’m hungry but I don’t know for what and I’m tired and bloated. And I’ve had this killer headache since I woke up,” you whine, wiping the tear away from your cheeks before glancing up at him. “Alpha.”

Your plea is enough for him to quickly kick off his shoes - knowing that it might upset you farther if he climbs into your nest with them on - and crawl over the bed to wrap his arms around you. “It’s okay, omega,” he consoles, gently stroking your head as you sob into his chest. “It’s completely normal for you to build a nest if you’re stressing.”

Sighing out as he lays you down, you press your nose into his neck above his scent gland and breath in deeply. As he gently places kisses over your shoulder, you wrap your arms around his waist. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better. But you’re lying in the wrong spot,” you whisper, making his chest vibrate with a chuckle before he allows you to move him in the exact position you want.

                       …I’m not going to say a single fucking word…

Tags: @rororo06 @chameerah @tephi101 @spaghettirogers @bookwormmads @veganfangirl5 @prussiangilbert @kissakatterna @thewinterwolf @captainamericasbeard @kulteule @collette04 @satellitespidey @marvelgirl7 @bxxbxy @summernykole @ek823 @buckaro0 @gracethegeek9902 @oldspirit @rubyquartzshade @classyunknownlover @blellaa @ben-wyxtt @sasunarushiita @fairlightswiftly @thelostallycat @brokensunflowersworld @hennessy0274-blog

[kelyon]

Golden Cuffs 40: The Treat

Cover art by Best New Artist @paradigmparadoxical​

Rumbelle Dark Castle BDSM AU

The evening reaches a climax. (Or several.)

Read on AO3 

Naked, sweaty, and throbbing from her recent orgasm, Belle lay in the center of a nest of pillows where Rumple had left her while he squared off with Leona Ogg.

“Mind if I sit?” Jefferson came up to her, unfolding a russet-orange blanket.

Belle let out a soft chuckle and patted an empty spot on the pillows. “You’ve been inside me,” she reminded him. “You don’t need permission to cuddle up.”

“Never hurts to ask, you never know when a lady might want to sit by herself.” He draped the blanket over her shoulders and settled in next to her. “But I really wanted to be here because this is the best view for the show.”

Resting her head on his bare chest, Belle joined Jefferson in watching Rumple and Leona. 

It wasn’t until that exact moment Belle realized that Leona was actually taller than Rumpelstiltskin. Though the woman was naked and flushed with pleasure, she held herself with the dignity of a mother goddess. Every inch of her was round and large and beautiful. 

Rumpelstiltskin was still clothed in his brocade dressing gown. It functioned as armor, to  conceal his skinny frame. The Dark One was a figure that most people underestimated at first, and that was part of his power. 

The two of them spoke, briefly and so softly that Belle couldn’t make out any words. When he had approached Leona, Rumple had called what they were doing a dance. But as she watched them circle each other, Belle saw it as more of a duel. They stayed apart from each other, at least an arm’s length away. Both of their bodies were tense, defensive--Leona’s shoulders were squared and Rumple was as still as a snake about to strike.  

“I think Leona touched a nerve,” Belle remarked, “when she told Rumple he wasn’t impressive.”

Jefferson chuckled and Belle felt it in his chest. “My wife can make friends with anybody. But she also has an amazing knack for knowing how to insult someone.”

“Did she mean to insult him?”

“She meant to get a reaction out of the Dark One,” Jefferson licked his lips as he watched them. “And I’d say she succeeded.”

The other two stepped marginally closer, both of them looking the other up and down, Leona gestured to Rumple’s robe and he shook his head. No, of course he wasn’t going to undress. He had fucked Belle every day for months before he had given her access to his body. He wasn’t going to expose himself to a stranger.

“Why do you call him that?” Belle looked up at Jefferson. “I’ve noticed you never call Rumple by name.”

“He never invited me to,” Jefferson shrugged. “He said that the name of the Dark One has power and I would be wise to use it only in times of greatest need.”

Nodding slowly, Belle watched the moment when Rumple finally put his hands on Leona. He held her by the shoulders and brushed back a lock of her yellow hair. Something had changed between the two of them, a softening. There was still tension in their body language, but it wasn’t as combative. They were still going to test each other, but the duel had become a sparring match, not a fight to the death.

“He ordered me to call him by his name,” Belle said. “I was afraid to at first, but that passed quickly.”

Jefferson wrapped his arms around her, both of them warm under the blanket. “You’re a really brave person, Belle.”

She snorted. “It’s easy to do the brave thing when you don’t have a choice. And it’s not just that he ordered me. I--I had to make him happy. I wanted to do what he wanted. I had to pay the price to save my people.”

His hand stroked her arm slowly. “Are you still worried about them? Is that why you feel like you don’t have a choice?”

In truth, Belle hadn’t thought of her family in months. She trusted that Rumple had saved them as he said he would. He had never threatened them, never so much as hinted that he would go back on their deal if she didn’t obey him. Of course, he had never needed to. From the beginning, Belle had wanted to fulfill her end of the bargain. She had wanted to be a good whore because that was the price he demanded. And now… 

Why did she want to make him happy now? Why did his opinion of her matter so much? He had spoken of his satisfaction with her many times. Why did she keep trying to exceed his expectations? Why did they keep going after more and more? Why wasn’t she ever satisfied?   

Before Belle could give these questions any more thought, a feminine gasp rang through the quiet room. Rumple had crouched down to put his head between Leona’s legs. Her stance wide, Leona threaded her hands through his hair and let out a breathy moan. 

“Oh yeah,” Jefferson whispered. He shifted next to Belle, squirming with excitement. “Gods, she’s so beautiful.”

“I’ve never seen Rumple with anyone else,” Belle said in a small voice.

Jefferson paused in his movements. His hand brushed over her arm, a gentle reassurance. “What do you think?” 

“He’s beautiful.”

He made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. “The things that man can do with his mouth…” A shiver ran through his body, and Belle felt herself shuddering. Her own desire fed off of his, off of watching the other two.

Leona tilted her head back, exposing her luscious throat. Rumple’s hands gripped into the flesh of her hips as he kept her mouth against her cunt. A jolt went through Belle when she realized that she was the last person who had pleasured Leona. Her mouth had been where Rumple was now. Was he thinking of that? Could he taste her or smell her, in the midst of Leona’s own tastes?

Belle put a hand to one of her breasts, dimly aware of how she was rocking back and forth. She was just as antsy as Jefferson.

“Should we touch each other?” she asked him. “Do you want to put your mouth on me?”

“Fuck,” Jefferson hissed through gritted teeth. 

When she looked up at him, his eyes were glassy. His hands had moved to his sides, tightening and releasing again and again. Between his legs, his cock was long and hard, red with arousal. 

“Better not,” he said after a moment. He closed his eyes and took a few breaths. “You know the Dark One has a plan. We--we should wait for his say so.”

“That makes sense,” Belle nodded, her hand still over her breast. She scooted away from Jefferson, just far enough to avoid temptation. 

The two of them kept watching. Belle heard Jefferson’s breath hitch when Rumpelstiltskin set Leona’s legs over his shoulders. She straddled him, and Belle could imagine Rumple’s face completely enveloped in Leona’s pleasure.

Belle could not have imagined that once Leona was situated on Rumple’s shoulders, he would then stand up and lift her into the air, his head still buried between her thighs. 

From the delighted squeals, it didn’t seem like Leona had expected it either. 

“Oh, well done,” Jefferson smiled. “That’s one way to use your talents!”

It had never surprised Belle how easily Rumple could lift her up and carry her when he needed to. She was a tiny thing--even a man without magic could throw her over his shoulders like a sack of flour. But Leona was a big girl. Leona was a mother, the sort of woman whose size was a part of her, had become a part of her personality.  For all her merriment, Leona was a sensible woman who usually had both feet set firmly on the ground. Had she ever dreamed that she could be, literally, swept off her feet?

“Hello up there!” Jefferson called.

Opening her eyes, Leona looked down at her husband and let out a burst of laughter. She kept one hand on the back of Rumple’s head, and covered her broad smile with the other. It was as though she were embarrassed to be caught in such a silly position.

Belle understood how she felt. Rumpelstiltskin was doing to Leona what he did to Belle so often: He was making her feel safe in an impossible situation. Belle remembered the first time he had used his mouth on her. How frightened she had been, laid out naked on a table, bound by the cuffs and unable to move. But he had told not to be afraid, and he had given her a pleasure she could never have imagined. 

He was in control. He had been stronger than Belle’s fear, and now he was strong enough to get Leona’s head in the clouds. His hands gripped into the flesh of her bottom, squeezing as he continued to work in her. Leona grunted and let her head fall onto her shoulders, waves of yellow hair falling down her back. 

She bit her lower lip, and Belle bit her own in sympathy. Her moans became louder and more frequent. With her free hand, Leona rubbed her neck, caressing herself down to her collarbone and to her large, plump breasts.

“Oh, fuck!” Jefferson whimpered. He sounded genuinely pained, distraught that he couldn’t take part in Leona’s pleasure himself. 

“Oh!” Leona crooned. She was grinding against Rumple now, rolling her hips and digging her heels into his back. Her toes spread out and curled back again and again.

Belle dug her nails into her thighs. The pain grounded her, kept her from being carried away entirely by the show. Was it possible to orgasm merely from watching someone else? More importantly, was that what Rumple wanted her to do?   

When Leona came, it was not with a cry, but with a prolonged silence. Her mouth opened, but there was no noise. Her pleasure had transcended the realm of sound. Her face contorted in ecstasy. Both hands clung to the back of Rumple’s head, twisting in his crinkly hair. Belle felt herself clenching and throbbing. Jefferson had pulled away from her and crawled closer to his wife. He watched them on his knees, a mortal worshiping these gods of pleasure.

Leona broke, loose and boneless. She began to fall, but Rumple caught her. He held her up with a quick burst of magic, until he could get her in his arms. He carried her over to them and he set her down with her head in Belle’s lap.

“Well?” he asked brightly. His face shone with Leona’s juices. “Did I impress you, Mrs. Ogg?” 

Eyes still closed, Leona nodded slowly. “You win. For now.” 

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. He bent at the waist and offered his face to Belle. “Will you clean me up, my sweet?”

Delighted to obey, Belle peppered him with small kisses. She licked Leona’s wetness off of his chin and cheeks.

Still on his knees, Jefferson crawled up to them. “My turn?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. 

It took a moment for Rumple to turn away from Belle. He straightened up and cupped Jefferson’s chin in his hands. “Stand up, my boy,” he said. “Come taste what I can do to your wife.”

With a needful moan, Jefferson scrambled to obey. Though he towered over Rumpelstiltskin, there was no question which one of them was in control of their kiss. Rumple grabbed Jefferson by the hair and pulled his head back, and Jefferson submitted happily.

While the two men kissed, Belle sat back on the floor, cradling Leona’s head in her lap. She draped the blanket over Leona’s flushed body and stroked the silky strands of her hair.  

“I suppose I understand it,” Leona said slowly as the two women watched the two men plunder each other’s mouths. “The appeal of him. But there’s more to being with someone than what goes on in bed.”

Belle nodded. “I know,” she said. “And sometimes I feel like there is more to him and me than that. But sometimes I feel like there isn’t.”

Leona reached up and squeezed Belle’s hand. “You’ll find your way, luv. I know you will.”

At long last, Jefferson and Rumple broke apart. 

“How do you want me?” Jefferson panted. “My mouth? My ass? Tell me, Dark One, you know I’m yours.” 

His hand reached down to the belt wrapped around Rumple’s waist, but Rumpelstiltskin grabbed him by the wrist and kept him away. 

“You’re not mine,” he said in a low voice. His eyes flicked from Jefferson’s collar to Leona and the matching collar she wore. “You belong to your wife. And I’ve asked you here to attend to Belle. That should be quite enough for one man.”

“But why limit ourselves?” Jefferson asked with a smile. “There’s enough of me to share.”

Rumpelstiltskin reached out and slowly wrapped his hand around Jefferson’s cock. Jefferson whimpered and Rumple chuckled darkly.

 “You’re fit to bursting, my boy. I could have you off in two strokes and then you’d be useless for another hour.”

Jefferson took a shaky breath and shook his head. “You know that isn’t true. You’ve used magic on me before. Time was, you couldn’t get enough of me.”

“Time was, you barely needed magic to get hard for me over and over again.” Rumple’s  grip tightened. Belle saw his thumb rub along Jefferson’s shaft. 

 A visible shudder went through Jefferson, from Rumple’s words or his grip or the memories. Then he sighed. “But I’m an old man now. I’ll need a little help if I’m going to come three times before I leave.”

“So let’s let it be only twice then.” Rumple released his grip. “Let’s give Belle a treat she’s never had before, hmm?”

Jefferson sagged, his eyes heavy and his jaw slack. He seemed to know a lost cause when he found one. “Yes, Dark One,” he murmured.

With a tight smile, Rumple nodded. He spun on his heel to face Belle and Leona. “Mrs. Ogg, are you recovered? Shall we move on?”

“You’re a fucking taskmaster,” Leona groaned and sat up. Then she snorted. “Literally! A taskmaster of fucking!” She rubbed her eyes. “But yes, I can keep going.”

“I believe you have a harness?”

Leona blinked a few times before chuckling in understanding. “So we’re doing one of those maneuvers then?”

“A grand finale, you might say.”

“A big bang.” Leona winked at Belle and got to her feet, walking over to the leather bag. 

Belle stood and went to Rumple. “What’s going on? What are you going to do?”

He gave her a smile, soft and gentle. “As I said, it’s something you’ve never done before, my sweet. But something I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

Without moving away from him, Belle turned to Leona. “What’s the harness you were talking about?”

“Come and see!” Leona held up an item. It seemed to be a wide band of brown leather, with cords or laces hanging off the ends. She pressed the leather against her lower curls. “Jefferson, come lace me up!”

As Jefferson hurried to his wife, Belle kept looking at the thing they called a harness. The cords laced in the back, almost like a corset for Leona’s bottom. It was a lovely item, with a raised design worked into the soft leather. It sat over Leona’s hips in a way that made her look powerful, confident. She was still mostly naked, but naked with a purpose, decorated in a way that mere nudity couldn’t compete with. 

“Is it a… girdle?”

Leona smiled and shook her head. She traced her fingers around an iron ring in the center of the leather on the front of the harness, just over her mound. “This is the important part,” she said. “This is where I can put a dildo.”

Belle blinked. 

“Oh,” she said after a moment. Her voice sounded a little higher than normal. “So a woman can just… have a cock… in the same place a man does.”

Leona nodded. “And, Mister Dark One, if you ever ask me to impress you, this is exactly how I’ll do it.”

Rumple gave her a wry smile. “If I am ever in the need for such a service, I’ll know exactly who to call.”

“It’s a good time, being on the other end of a cock.” Jefferson handed Leona one of the glass dildos and the jar of lubricant. “But you know that already.”

After thanking her husband with a kiss, Leona slid the dildo through the ring. She stood, tall and proud, her cock jutting out from her body.

Belle remembered how Regina had used magic to create such an effect on her own body. Leona was doing the same thing with a bit of glass and leather. For some reason, that thought made her smile. Regina had thought herself so powerful, so exceptional, for having a magical means to fuck like a man. But Leona could be just the same, without magic, and without evil.

Licking her lips, Belle took a few steps closer to Leona. They stood together, close enough that Belle could feel the dildo pressing long and hard against her stomach. The glass was cool, but Leona’s skin was warm. Belle wrapped her arms around Leona’s neck and they kissed, sweet and wet.

“Do you want to use that on me, Leo?” she asked. 

“Fuck yes I do,” Leona whispered. Then she straightened up and looked at Jefferson and Rumple. “But I’m not the only person in this room with a cock, my girl.”

Jefferson came up to them, his hands reaching out to touch both of them at once. “We all want you, Belle.” His voice was low, soft and heavy. “Will you let us have you?”

Belle looked over at Rumple. “All of you at once? Is that the plan?”

He nodded and stepped slowly in to the group. “It works out neatly, doesn’t it? There are three of us.” He reached out to her, brushed his thumb against her lips. “And you have three lovely holes. Would you like to try it? All of us inside you at once?”

She shuddered, trembled, almost came just from the thought of it. Jefferson and Leona were so close to her, so warm and so naked and so full of desire. And Rumple was there, watching her steadily, looking at her, wanting her. Belle’s hands clenched and her knees felt weak and her voice was a breath as she whispered, “Yes. Please.”

Rumple smiled and made one of his happy noises. “Excellent!” he said. Then he became businesslike, directing the the three of them like he was arranging furniture. “Now, Jefferson has already spoken for your sweet cunt. So I’ll have him lie on the ground and you straddle him. Do you understand, my boy?”

“Absolutely.” Jefferson took a moment to kiss his wife, and then Belle, before he got himself into position. He set a pillow underneath his head and spread out on the cushioned floor.

Belle took a moment to look down at Jefferson’s long body. His skin glistened with perspiration, adding new definition to the muscles in his arms and chest. Already flushed and disheveled from all they had done earlier, Jefferson looked to be a man on the brink of exhaustion. But his rigid cock was clearly ready for one last ride.

“Are you having a good time?” Belle asked as she spread her legs over his waist. She stroked his cock lightly, but didn’t put it inside her just yet.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “And it’s about to get even better.” 

“I’ve never had a man in here, besides Rumple.” 

Jefferson ran his hands up and down Belle’s legs. “He’s a tough act to follow. But I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

After lifting her body up for a moment, Belle let herself sink down onto Jefferson’s cock. She ground against him a little, finding the position that was most comfortable. She ran one hand from her face down to her neck, over her breasts and belly, to the place where the two of them joined. Then she moved her hand along Jefferson’s chest and abdomen and up to his neck, to his face. She held his jaw in her palm. 

“No, I don’t mind,” she said softly.

Leona touched Belle’s shoulder to get her attention before settling in behind her, between Jefferson’s legs. Belle couldn’t see what Leona was doing, but she trusted her. They had all been through enough together, Belle trusted everyone in the room. She heard the now-familiar sloshing of lubricant and felt Leona’s hand on her back.

“Bend over, little one,” she said. “Give Jefferson a kiss for me, huh?”

Belle did as she was told, leaning forward over Jefferson’s body while his wife slowly slid a dildo into her ass. She kissed Jefferson once, but had to break away as the feeling overtook her. 

“Oh,” Belle gulped. It didn’t hurt, to be penetrated in two places at once. Her body was too slick and open for it to hurt. But it was so much that pleasure and pain and sensation became mixed-up in her mind and body. No matter how she positioned herself, something filled her to the brim. It overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe.

Jefferson noticed her distress. “Take my hands,” he offered. “Rest your weight on me, Belle. I’ll lift you up. You’ll be okay.”

Neither of them had moved, but Belle was already twitching. Her cunt clenched around Jefferson--and then she felt the echo of that sensation in her ass. Her upper half fell onto Jefferson, and he slowly pushed her back up so she sat on her heels. Her body swayed of its own accord.

“You’re so good,” Leona whispered, reaching around to touch her breasts. She pinched a nipple and Belle let out a high, keening moan.

Jefferson grunted and bucked his hips at the noise. That motion forced Belle up and then backwards onto Leona’s dildo. Leona made a sound of her own, which made Belle gasp and grind down onto Jefferson. It was a cycle of pleasure that might have gone on forever if Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t stepped in. 

“Belle,” he whispered. It was only one word, but it was enough.

She felt the sensations in her body fade away, even as Jefferson and Leona began to put forth more effort. It didn’t matter anymore. They could thrust and bang at her until the end of time and she wouldn’t notice while Rumple had her attention. 

Still in his dressing gown, he stepped closer to her. Facing her, he stood with his feet on either side of Jefferson’s chest. He was wearing slippers. Belle hadn’t noticed before. 

“My girl,” he said softly as he brushed her hair away from her face. “My sweet, beautiful, woman.”

“Rumple,” she breathed his name, closed her eyes to savor the word. Regular people were afraid to say the Dark One’s true name. If even Jefferson didn’t say it, how often did Rumple hear it? Only when people called him to make a deal? But he had ordered Belle to use it, a gift he had forced her to take. Gratefully, Belle said it again, “Rumpelstiltskin.” 

He sighed, and it was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

“Do you want this?” he murmured, caressing her cheek. “Or would it be too much? I admit, I do feel a little superfluous in this company.”

Closing her eyes, Belle shook her head against his hand. “Oh, Rumple,” she whispered. “You’re everything.”

She heard the hitch in his breath, the sudden panting as he gripped the back of her head. Instinctively, Belle opened her mouth and waited for him to fill her. But he waited until her eyes were open before he moved.

Slowly, deliberately, Rumpelstiltskin undid the knot in the belt at the waist of his dark gold dressing gown. His breathing was labored and heavy as he allowed the silk band to hang loose from the belt loops and trail down to the floor. With the robe unfastened but still closed, Rumple inched closer to Belle.

She understood, and the understanding filled her heart. Rumpelstiltskin--who hoarded his secrets, who hid his true nature from the world--was willing to undress, but only for her. Only if she insisted. Belle would have to open his dressing gown. She would have to pull the fabric off his body. If he was going to have his vulnerabilities exposed, it would only be because she wanted it.

Belle looked up at him. He rocked on his heels, rubbing his fingers together as he did when he was nervous. His breathing had become shaky. He tried to look at her, but his gaze kept shifting away. 

It reminded her of how he had been on the night he had bound her to the wall in his safest room. The first time he had allowed her near his naked body, he had been apoplectic with nerves. Even when she had been blind and immobile, Belle’s knowledge of him had been a threat, a fear he’d had to face. 

She never wanted him to be afraid of her. She would not be a threat to him now. He would feel safe in this new situation. Every bit as safe as she did. 

Jefferson and Leona were still pushing and thrusting into her. The continuous motion made Belle’s hands shake as she reached out to Rumple. She grabbed at the flaps of his dressing gown but made sure to keep it closed as she tugged to pull him closer. She opened the robe just enough to put her head inside. He stepped forward and closed the fabric over her shoulders.

All she knew was Rumple’s body. Surrounded by his darkness, his heat, his smell, she opened her mouth and welcomed his taste. 

Through the fabric, he pressed his hands to the back of her head. Slowly, he pushed himself in deeper. Belle clenched tightly around Jefferson’s cock, dimly aware of the man swearing underneath her. Leona and her dildo were still behind her, her hands gripping Belle’s hips. She moved with their rhythm, but nothing was as important as Rumple in her mouth. 

He opened the robe just enough to get one hand in and wind it through Belle’s hair. He controlled her that way, guiding her to keep up with his pace. Belle savored the earthy taste of him, the salt and spice and darkness of his body. He was glorious. She felt herself clenching over and over, throbbing and rocking her hips over Jefferson’s cock.

“Oh fuck, Belle!” 

Jefferson’s shout was loud enough to reach her. The knowledge of what she was doing to him--that her pleasure was fueling his, that he was about to come from how well she was fucking him--only made it easier to do what she was already doing. 

Belle pushed herself sharply against Jefferson, searching for the friction that would push her over the edge. She braced herself with both hands on the ground. It was Leona who had the sense to reach around Belle’s body and rub furiously at her pleasure spot.

With all three of them still inside her, Belle convulsed madly to her orgasm. Rumple gripped her tightly, keeping himself in her mouth as she came. Likewise, Leona only pressed more deeply into her ass. 

Only Jefferson broke. He came as Belle did, spurting inside her as she clenched around him, softening even as her cunt milked him dry. She kept coming around him, even after he was spent.

“Oh, fuck!” he moaned. She could hear him panting underneath her. As soon as he could, he pulled his flaccid cock out of her body. Then he sank back into the ground, exhausted. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, another rhythm Belle could move to. 

She felt a twinge of regret that they couldn’t take a break after Jefferson’s orgasm. It would be polite for her to kiss him and to thank him, to tell him how wonderful he had been. But the other two weren’t stopping, and Belle wasn’t going to ask them to. 

After that orgasm, Belle let them control her. Her body was loose and relaxed. She was a wave that flowed back and forth, with Rumple on one end, and Leona on the other.

Slowly, she became more aware of Leona behind her. It was a different sensation, to be buffeted between two points instead of three. Her cunt still throbbed with every heartbeat. Oddly, she felt the throbbing more, now that she was empty. Leona thrust and pushed into her, the glass dildo unyieldingly hard. 

Gradually, Belle felt her body begin to push back against the dildo. It may have been that Rumple directed her, that he thrust against her head and sent her reeling back. Or it may have been her own desire, her own whorish lusts. This was the sort of thing she fantasized about, after all. As many cocks as there could be in the world, she would use them all for her pleasure, and then let Rumple claim her in front of them all. 

Fuck. The thought of that had her jerking again, bucking erratically back toward Leona. She shook, and felt the other woman’s hands on her, supporting her. Jefferson’s hands, too, held her up and steadied her. Belle felt Leona’s kiss on her back.

“That’s right, luv. You just fall apart for us. We’ll catch you.”

Fuck! She wanted to moan and scream, but Rumple had her wonderfully gagged. So she pushed back against Leona, over and over, again and again, until the pleasure rose up out of her. She wouldn’t let herself break away from Rumple. He had his hands on her too, pressing her ever closer to his body. All she could do was cling to him, suck him in more deeply, let his cock muffle her noises as she came.

Her work done, Leona slid the dildo out of Belle’s ass. For once, Belle was too debauched and distracted to feel disgusted by the sensation. Her lower half was a mess of spent pleasures and she had never felt more sated. All she needed now was Rumple’s satisfaction.

Earlier, when she had been consumed with the others, it had been too difficult to devote any effort to Rumple’s pleasure. Her mouth was his and he filled her to her throat and that had been enough at the time. 

But now it was not enough. Now Belle licked and sucked at his cock, dedicating herself to his enjoyment. Everyone else had come over and over, but Rumple had saved himself for this. For her. She would reward his devotion.

 His hands stroked her hair, twisting it between his fingers, balling it around his fist when she pleased him. In the darkness of his robe, Belle swallowed Rumple’s cock as deeply as she could. With other people’s pleasures drying on her legs, Belle lined a trail of kisses up and down the length of his cock. With Jefferson lying underneath her and Leona sprawled out beside her, Belle nuzzled her nose into the soft flesh of Rumple’s balls.

His breath hitched as his pleasure mounted. Belle sucked hard on his cock and ran her hands up and down his thighs, scraping her nails against his skin. He hissed and pulled at her hair but didn’t order her to stop. Lightly, Belle scraped her teeth against his shaft. He tensed and shuddered and she felt him begin to come.

She sucked again at the tip of his cock, but then let it go. She pushed herself backwards, leaving the privacy of his robe, so everyone could see as Rumple spurted black seed over her mouth and neck and breasts. 

He painted her body, and she shuddered from the heat of his pleasure. He claimed her, marked her as his own in front of people, just as she had fantasized a hundred times. She knelt on the ground at his feet, utterly subservient, utterly his. No one else had this, not even Jefferson, not tonight. She was his, and in that moment, he was hers as well. Jefferson and Leona were witnesses to it.

Had Belle ever been happier in her life?

****

The three of them fell into a heap of exhausted satisfaction on the pillowed ground. Belle lay in between Jefferson and Leona, though both of them still reached out to each other. They held hands over Belle’s body and she basked in the warmth of their embrace. 

Rumpelstiltskin kept himself apart again. It seemed his time as a member of this dance ended as soon as all the steps had been taken. Fully dressed again, he stood above them on the floor surrounding the pleasure-nest and draped a large blanket over their naked bodies.

“Won’t you stay?” Belle murmured. Jefferson was already snoring and Leona was snuggled up next to her, breathing deeply.

He shook his head. “Sleep is for those who need it. I’ll bring you all breakfast in the morning.” 

“I’ll miss you, Rumple.”

Belle’s eyes were closed, but she could imagine his wan smile. “You have company enough, my sweet. But there is one thing I would ask of you, before you sleep.”

She lifted her head up off the pillow. “Yes?”

“See if you can give your cunt one last flourish. It is your duty after all.”

Belle flopped back down onto the soft feather pillow. She pried her arm out from between her leg and Leona’s and set her hand gingerly between her soaking curls. It might be a struggle to come again, her cunt was already tender and aching. But Rumple had given her an order, and that wasn’t something she could take for granted anymore.

“Yes, Rumpelstiltskin,” she whispered to the darkness.    

[sm-entertain-me]

Mistaken Identity (M)

Contains: Lee Taeyong x (f) reader, adult language, sexual themes, smut, dom!Taeyong, sub!reader, mentions of Taehyung from BTS even though this is an NCT fic.

Synopsis: Why does Taeyong’s name have to be so close to Taehyung’s?

You grinned wildly to yourself as you admired the black lace teddy you were wearing in your full length mirror, turning at all angles to see how well the bustier fit you as well as the skimpy underwear that came with it. The bustier of the teddy had extra support and allowed for your supple breasts to be pushed even further up, on display for whoever you wanted to see you in it. Surely this would turn Taehyung on enough so that he would drop everything he was doing and come over to give you the wild fucking you so desperately craved whenever you two started talking. It would only be a matter of time, so why not speed up the process?

Phone in hand, you ran over to your light switch and made an effort to dim the lights slightly, trying to pick the perfect amount of ambient light that would cascade over your curves in the most desirable ways. Once you had arrived at a brightness you were satisfied with, you crawled on your bed and began to writhe your body around in different kinds of sultry positions, taking a few pictures here and there and deciding which one would be best to send to Taehyung. 

Of the many pictures you took, you stopped on one particular one of you sitting on your bed, legs spread as if you were straddling someone underneath you, arching your breasts to the sky and making sure you had just the right angle to keep your face out of the snap. Nude taking rule number one: never show face. “Perfect,” You whispered to yourself as a sly grin remain on your face, scrolling through to find Taehyung’s name in your snapchat contacts and sent it without so much as a second look through, knowing Taehyung would be rather satisfied with your “special” photos.

Unfortunately, it had been a while since you sent the picture to Taehyung and you were growing impatient as time went on. It’s understandable that whenever Taehyung was busy, he was very busy, but he always seemed to make time for you whenever your name would pop up on his screen. Sighing to yourself, you decided it would be time to take the lingerie off and opt for something a little more comfortable as you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be getting anything tonight. That was, until you heard a small ding come from your phone. You stopped pulling at the bustier of the lingerie you had on and practically leapt toward your phone, picking it up with a smile only to see that Taehyung hadn’t snapped you back. Oh no, it was in fact known fuckboy Taeyong... And the notification was for a screenshot.

You furrowed your brows slightly in confusion, wondering why he would be screenshotting something of yours when you hadn’t even snapchatted him this week. Usually he would snapchat you if he needed help with math or some harder school subjects as he really wasn’t one to pay attention to his studies, but this was pretty odd for him. Still, you tapped your finger on the notification and unlocked your phone, ready to ask him what he screenshotted. Instead, you were met with a snapchat from him, not the usual chat messages your received daily. 

The minute you chose to open the snapchat, you were met with a picture of Taeyong’s black skinny jeans, his cock bulging out at you from his tight jeans with the caption, “Damn babygirl, getting me all worked up. Want me to come over?” You quickly tapped the screen to get that picture off of your phone, screaming internally. But as you did that, you saw that you hadn’t snapped Taehyung since 12 PM today, and your clock read 9:30 PM. That’s when it all hit you. You didn’t send that sultry picture to Taehyung. You sent it to Taeyong.

Anxiety consumed you as you ran your hand through your thick locks, panicking at how stupidly you sent that picture intended for Taehyung to the player of the town. Now he’s going to think you’re super in to him and you want to have rough sex with him or something. Normally this would scare you since you made it very clear to Taeyong that you never wanted anything like that from him, but the pristine image of Taeyong’s hard cock being pressed tightly against his thigh in those jeans made your thighs quiver. 

The thought made you bite down on your lip, contemplating how you should handle this situation. To be fair, you were wearing very sexy lingerie in hopes of getting laid, just not by Taeyong. Although you couldn’t help but to wonder how well he would satisfy you in bed.... Without so much as another minute of contemplation, you chose to snapchat Taeyong back since it would be rude to not answer his question, typing only three letters to make your intentions known. “Yes.” Within a minute, Taeyong snapped you back, “Good, because I’m pulling up to your house now.” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A little pang of anxiety still rested in your throat as you ran to your bathroom and picked out one of your black satin robes in order to preserve some part of your modesty when you go to answer the door for Taeyong, despite him seeing most of your breasts and every single curve of your body. “You can do this. It’s just Taeyong,” You muttered to yourself as you brushed a stray strand of hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, reaching over and grabbing at your red lipstick to give it that extra oomph. You finally collected yourself as you walked out of your bedroom and made your way to the door, seeing a silhouette standing right outside the door, leaning to the side as they waited for you to open the door. 

Sighing to yourself for about the tenth time tonight, you pulled your front door open to reveal none other than Taeyong himself, dressed in those same black jeans with a white button down shirt that made him look so irresistible. His hair was pushed back slightly as he ran his hand through it, taking this moment to scan all the crevices of your body, biting his lip harshly as an audible groan escaped his lips. “Goodamn you look so good, baby. I bet you’d look even better when your’e taking my cock,” Taeyong commented nonchalantly, smirking at his filthy words, knowing it would make your knees absolutely weak. Something in you snapped as you lost all portions of your nervousness and reached out to grab his hand, pulling him inside, “Guess you’ll have to see for yourself.”

It took no time to lead Taeyong up your stairs to get to the bedroom, him staring at the way your ass bounced in front of his face, the definitions of each cheek peeking through the short robe much to his delight. He wanted nothing more than to grab each cheek in his hands, or to bend you over in front of him while he admired the prominent curve of your ass being pressed against his raging hard on. You caught him staring diligently at your ass with his lip nested perfectly in between his perfectly white teeth, taking it upon yourself to let your ass sway even more from side to side to show him what’s his for the taking tonight.

As soon as you two were in your bedroom, Taeyong wasted no time pressing his body against yours, molding his lips against yours. His hands traveled the length of your body and gripped tightly on the satin bow in the front of you, untying it quickly to reveal the black laced lingerie that would only be on for maybe five more minutes. But he made sure to savor the moment as he swiped his tongue along your lips, asking for permission to explore you fully. You obliged his request for entry, parting your lips to allow his slick muscle to entwine with yours to see who could cover the most distance. 

Soon, Taeyong broke apart from the kiss and looked lustfully into your eyes, occasionally peeking down to admire the perfect shade of red you made your lips for him, “Fuck you look so good.” You only smirked at him as you pulled him into you again, his teeth raking against your lip to elicit beautiful, high pitched moans from you. Taeyong swallowed every moan from you as he pressed his hard cock against your bare thigh, his hands stroking the underside of your ass and pushing you even more into his frame so you could feel him clearly. \

Every roll of Taeyong’s hips against your thigh forced a groan form your lips, your pussy reacting to his actions as well. You were absolutely drenched from his minimal action, ruining the delicate lace of your thong as your sinful juices spilled out of you and latched onto your thighs. Taeyong was quick to notice too as he pulled away slightly, slipping his hand down your thin frame and sliding into your sexy lingerie, separating your dripping folds with a single digit. He smirked devilishly as he watched your eyes widen, taking his finger and pushing deeper inside of you to get a feel for just how wet you were for him. Whimpers were a common sound as Taeyong worked you with his finger, pumping you lightly while the palm of his hand stayed firm against your sensitive nub, him smirking at the way it pulsed against his hand. 

“Fuck you’re so wet for me,” Taeyong groaned into your ear as he had you pressed into the space of his neck, taking a small portion of your ear into his mouth to give you a playful nip. That action alone sent a shiver through your body as another gush of liquid ran out of you, causing the wet spot on your thighs to double in size form Taeyong’s expert ministrations. You were basically putty in Taeyong’s hands at this point, wondering how the hell he was able to reduce you down into something so pathetic, so needy, so desperate to have him filling you to the brim with his generous cock that rested on your thigh. “Please, Taeyong,” You whimpered in his ear as you noticed he had slipped another finger inside of you, curling up to reach your g-spot with no effort. “Please fuck me.”

That’s all it took for him. Taeyong pulled his fingers out of you slowly so not as to give you shock, placing a gentle kiss on your neck as he walked you backwards to your bed. He smirked at you as he pushed on your chest lightly, causing you to fall onto your bed gently and bounce up and down from the little amount of force. You watched diligently as Taeyong unbuttoned his buttons of his shirt painfully slow, you pressing your thighs together to stop the unbearable throbbing before he was even inside of you. 

Taeyong chuckled at your movement, “Look at you, so horny for my cock. I had you a whimpering mess with just my finger, I can only imagine how you’ll be when I fuck you senseless.” His words went straight to your aching core, forcing out a breathy moan as you looked up to the ceiling to contain your flushed cheeks and blown wide pupils. You didn’t want to show him how much you really wanted him, but he was making it so difficult for you. 

The sound of Taeyong’s pants crashing onto your bedroom floor made it all very real for you as he stalked over to you, bare with his cock in his hand. Your eyes never left the impressive length being stroked in his hand, his grip tightening to milk out more drops of precum that weren’t already oozing out of his red tip, angry and ready to be buried deep inside of your aching walls. “Fuck,” You whispered as Taeyong stood in front of you, motioning for you to crawl up and have your head rest on the pillows to be as comfortable as you could for the wild fucking he was more than capable of giving to you. 

Taeyong didn’t say another word as he joined you, crawling over your tiny frame and settling in between your thighs only to realize you were still in your lingerie. He gave his tongue a couple clicks, tsking at you and shaking his head, “No, that won’t do. These have to come off.” Within minutes, Taeyong placed his hands on your hips and ripped off your thong, causing the fabric to rip in two from the sheer force he carried with him. He didn’t bother with the top part though, you looked absolutely divine in black lace.

“Hope you’re ready for my cock, babygirl,” Taeyong warned as he lined himself up with your weeping entrance, glancing down in between your thighs to admire the sight and lick his lips in response. You nodded vigorously as you tilted your hips up at him, giving him better access to slip inside of you and fill you to the brim with his huge, thick cock that sat prettily in his hand to pump himself to his full length. He smirked at your receptiveness and slid himself inside of you, groaning at the way your walls clenched around his cock on impact. “Goddamn,” Taeyong groaned as he pushed himself all the way inside of you, pressing his groin against the inside of your hips and keeping himself there to continue feeling your walls clench and unclench around him. “So fucking tight.”

The pace was brutal as Taeyong flicked his hips against you, taking calculated strokes with his cock to brush against the most sensitive parts of your body. “Mmm, Taeyong... Faster, baby,” You groaned as you turned to his ear, using the sexiest voice you could muster as his face was buried into your neck. His hot breath against your neck increased as he picked up his pace, taking his hands and spreading your thighs out as far as they would go so he could feel every inch of you. Breathy moans fell from your lips as you wrapped your arms around Taeyong’s torso, pulling him closer to your body in order to feel him at the deepest he could go. This only encouraged him as he held your hips firmly in the air, shifting himself back on his knees to throw himself completely into you, throwing his head back in pleasure. 

“Cum for me baby. Cum all over my fucking cock,” Taeyong ordered as he continued his rough fucking, increasing the harshness of his strokes, the depth his cock would reach, and the speed of his strokes in order to pull you into your impending orgasm. “Fuck, fuck! Oh my god, Taeyong!” You cried as you could feel yourself slipping at the hands of Taeyong, flicking your hips against his in rhythm with the way he pumped into you. The sensation was becoming too much for you as you felt your walls clench around his cock, arching your back to raise your rapidly rising chest to the sky, screaming his name so loud that it could be heard through the whole house.

Your orgasm ripped through you as you shuddered around him, crying out to Taeyong as he continued to use you to achieve his high. “Oh fuck-Y/N, I’m cumming!” Taeyong grunted as he spilled his hot release inside of you, groaning out as his eyes were screwed shut. The warming feeling inside of you caused another but not as powerful orgasm to pulse through your body, your body shuddering and writhing underneath Taeyong as you could feel dribbles of his cum slipping out of your wet and properly fucked pussy. Sweat coated Taeyong’s forehead as you looked up at him with blown wide pupils, smiling up at him as he looked down at you with shockingly loving eyes, not something you would be expecting from someone like Taeyong. 

Still, he smiled down at you as he pressed a kiss onto your lips and slid himself out of you, standing up from your bed and making his way to your bathroom to get himself cleaned up, you calling after him to get you a towel so you can do the same. You sighed blissfully to yourself as you lay naked on your bed, sweat coating your body form head to toe, marks of Taeyong’s admiration littering your neck. “Sure thing babygirl,” Taeyong called after you before he shut the door to your bathroom to relieve himself and eventually grab the towel you requested. Fuck you felt so good, so much better than what Taehyung had ever given you. As you thought more about it, you propped yourself on your elbows and went through your snapchat contacts, selecting Taeyong’s name and changing it to “Daddy” as opposed to his name so that you won’t accidentally ask Taehyung to come over instead of the new source of your desire. 

Sure wouldn’t want to make that mistake any time soon.

[lokidokiliteratureclub]

Frostbitten (Chapter Three)

Y/N L/N is a child of a Jotun and an Asgardian. She spends her life hidden in the dungeons of Asgard, with no one to talk to other than one of the princes- a man who seems completely incapable of leaving her alone and entirely unable to give up on helping her. Y/N and Loki Odinson have always been inseparable, it seems- even when there is a cell wall, or a village, or an entire kingdom between them.

Even when he disappears, even when you run away, and even when his world falls apart; you are inseparable.

Previous Part

I’m gonna pretend that this didn’t take me way too long to write and I’m just gonna,, leave this here,,

This part of the story is mainly just exposition so that you have an idea of the baseline for the rest of the story. Romantic development starts very, very soon.

Tags are open! 

"If you were king, what would you do?"

Loki peers up from his book at the question, frowning sideways at you through a curtain of dark hair. His desire for the throne has always been evident, but he rarely ever talks about it. It always seemed like something he was.. afraid to mention. "What do you mean?”

"Oh, you know," you wave your hand dismissively, "how would you behave? What would you change”

He sweeps his hair behind his ears, and sighs. "Well, aside from an inevitable war or two, I'd, well, first I’d free you. Then, perhaps set up a system of trial- one that involves more than just the king, since we’ve seen how well that works out. I'd allow more children to study magic if they'd rather not partake in physical battle practices. Create a public library or two.” He shrugs. “I'd marry, probably have a child to pass the throne onto... You know, the very basics. Change the kingdom to focus less on glory and more on intelligence- wisdom. Strength is good short-term, but knowledge lasts forever."

You nod approvingly. "How very noble of you. I’d love to live under your reign.” That much is true. “But, really? No bragging? At all?" That part is a joke, mainly.

He grins, looking back down at his book. "You asked me what I'd do as a ruler, not as a man."

"My apologies. So, then, what would you do as yourself?"

"Everything I mentioned before, but I’d also create a very, very large statue of myself. Just as a constant reminder to Thor, since he never fails to remind me that because he is older he will inherit the throne.” He pauses. “Oh, and several very, very dramatic theatrical pieces. Community theatre would return in screaming colors.”

You snort. “There he is! There’s the Loki I know and love. Always one for drama.”

“What? As if you wouldn’t do the same.”

“I would.” You add, “but you know you’re allowed to exceed my expectations, right? You have full permission to be better than me.”

He scratches the spot just underneath his jaw with two fingers, turning the page of his book. “Why raise your expectations when I can drastically lower them and therefore have to work less to achieve appreciation?” 

Your eyes give a slight roll. “You’d better be glad there’s something keeping me from you right now. If I could, I’d snap your spine.”

Loki turns the page again, looking back up at you in between the motion. His grin flashes into a smirk. “I’d like to see you try.”

-

“What the hell?!” Thor bellows, stomping over to his brother and ripping him away from you by the shoulders. “You are not supposed to be here, brother!”

“Says who?” Loki retorts, feigning cluelessness. He takes a few heavy steps, his armor tight enough not to be shifting around, his boots soft enough to not make a sound on the hard ground. Unintentional mental rhyming. “Oh, my,” he gasps, lifting a hand to his mouth in shock, “did father explicitly tell you that I wasn’t to be here? That may be an issue. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to tell you, but you cut me-” he breaks off and releases a loud grunt of frustration. "You tricked me!”

“He’s the god of mischief,” you speak up, standing up and taking in the cool atmosphere. Bits of jagged ice prick at your bare feet, but for some reason they don’t hurt you. Your head feels lighter in the new environment. You feel more awake. More... at home. “You should expect that of him. He’ll never fail to disappoint you.”

Loki rolls his eyes but smiles faintly. “I think you all need to lower your expectations.”

“Why can’t Loki be here, anyway?” Asks Sif, her green eyes glassy in the cold. “What’s the issue with that? Why not him instead of I? The point of this affair was to prove our sense of diplomacy, wasn’t it? Thor came along to prove to Jotunheim that Asgard unequivocally cared about the reform. Why not two princes rather than one?”

Thor runs a troubled, angry hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I’m not sure, but father made himself clear. Besides, he’s a total pain in the-”

Suddenly, the Bifrost closes. There’s a whoosh of wind followed by an awful, earsplitting silence. The others in the group look at you, then their eyes shift to Thor, then Loki, then Sif. There is a notable absence of trusted adults in the area, and you feel the collective blood pressure of the group begin to rise.

“Where’s Arvid?” asks Sif stiffly. She slowly turns her head toward Loki, who stares confusedly back. “Loki,” she takes a stride toward him, her hand inching toward the hilt of her sword. “What did you do to him?”

Loki frowns, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’ve not touched him. If I killed every man I opposed, I'd never be able to get away with treason the way I need to, even though I’d love a chance to see him suffer.”

Thor starts pacing around the area, moving in heavy, quick steps. “Heimdall!” he shouts at the sky, voice echoing across the terrain. “Heimdall, open the Bifrost!”

You straighten your back and pull at your tattered clothing, shifting your gaze to a dark formation of pillars and spires behind you, some collapsed and some upright- about fifty steps away. It bears a bit of resemblance to Asgard’s palace, but it’s much smaller. It’s beaten down- unrepaired after a history of war. Loki told you about his father’s experiences here, about the casket that resided in Odin’s treasure room. That casket- that war was both the thing that ensured your creation and the thing that took your life away. You should not feel a sense of pride for Jotunheim, but for some strange reason, you feel the urge to protect it. Or, at least, let it die of old age rather than in the heat of battle.

“Are you alright?” whispers Loki, moving closer to you. You think that Sif hears, because her head turns toward the pair of you for a second too long. You don’t really care. “You look shaken.”

You don’t respond. A prickly, steady sense of fear travels through you, crawling up your spine and nesting in your chest. 

“Heimdall!” Thor shouts a final time, raising his fists at the sky, before slouching, defeated, in a fit of anger. “We’re stranded!” he announces. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Why did you bring me here?” you say in hardly an echo, turning your back to what remains of the Jotunheim palace and looking out at the group. “Whatever your reason is, I assume you’ll have to go through with your intentions, with or without him. I’d rather I find out now if you don’t mind.”

Thor stops pacing to stare you in the face and then starts to approach you, practically fuming. Your fight or flight reflexes start to kick in, but instead of reacting you stand your ground, keeping your face set, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “If you believe for a second that it’s within your rights to speak to me, you-”

“Brother, I hate to remind you, but we’re in her realm,” Loki states firmly, just before Thor reaches you. When he freezes, you calm a bit, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Besides, she’s a princess, now, is she not?”

I’m not Laufey’s daughter! You think, raising both eyebrows. The fear is joined by subtle exasperation.

Thor turns to tower over Loki, but despite being quite a bit smaller he doesn’t flinch. “Watch your words. Neither you nor her need to know of the plans, especially now that they may not be set in motion. Now that Arvid isn’t here to perform the-” he breaks off, groaning loudly. He raises his fists to the sky. “This is all going to Hel!”

“I read the plans, brother. And I still have many questions. So should you.” Loki steps forward and lets his arms hang at his sides, staring daggers into the blue eyes of the older prince. “Until someone explains why this ordeal is to take place in the first place despite the obvious inhumanity, I’d suggest you stop acting as though you’re in control. As if you know what the Allfather has planned.”

“Loki, you know not of what you speak,” offers Sif, her breath fogging in the cold air. “Give it time.”

He turns to her, his lips parting into a somehow-menacing smile. “I’m sorry, is this not a sufficiently appropriate time?” He lets the words ring out, and then scoffs. “No, then? Sif, the two of you need a magician, correct? Are you going to ask me next to sew her lips shut and heal the wounds? To drain the thought from her mind, the soul from her body?” he points to you, and you blink in horror at the thought, shoulders tensing. Loki did make a move to warn you about what might happen if you didn’t escape, but this just sounds... very un-Asgard like. 

It makes you think there’s something else going on. Odin is covering something up, or he’s scared. Maybe both. Your legs, weak from lack of use, begin to shake under your weight, and you try to steady yourself, pressure building.

What could an all-powerful being have to be afraid of? 

Unlike before, Loki seems to be completely unaware of your mental state at the very moment. “Would you like me to take Arvid’s place as the puppeteer?” You’re going to lash out. You’re going to lash out. You’re going to lash out. “Speaking for her, moving for her, breathing for-”

“What in the Allfather’s name is happening?!” You snap, balling your hands at your sides. You glare at Loki, despite your intent to remain calm, and it takes him aback. “Assume we’re stranded here, how about! Assume we’re stuck on this frozen ice-land, and Heimdall and Arvid have been killed by some unknown force of nature. We’re stuck in Jotunheim, not Asgard. I don’t believe the rest of you have any means of surviving here, so perhaps it’s a good idea to tell the one person who can possibly keep you alive what you’re here for!” 

“I don’t believe you’d be of much use-” Sif begins, scowling, but you cut her off.

“Was your intention to take over my body and use Laufey’s belief that I’m the heir to the throne in your favor? That’s what I’m gathering, and I hate to break it to you, My Lady, but if Arvid was meant for that job, and he’s gone, your best chances lie with me.” You glare harshly, and then, noticing the jagged ice stemming from around your feet, take a deep breath in and try to relax. It barely does anything. “I have no intentions of hurting any of you, despite what you might have forethought.”

Sif is offended, but firm. “Do you think that we’re feeble-minded enough to trust you with the throne? Your word means nothing. You’d have us all killed if you had the chance.”

You laugh, the last of your patience fading away. “Would you like to test that theory? I’ve plenty of methods to prove you wrong, and plenty more to prove you ri-”

“Asgardians?”

It’s a cold, rumbling voice from behind you, familiar and foreign at the same time. You turn toward the noise and lay eyes on several Jotun soldiers emerging from behind the large, jagged bits of rock and ice that sprout from the desolate ground. In the midst, a large, guarded Jotun glowers down at you and the others, looking amused and angered

Your aggravation fades and leaves only the prickly, paralyzing fear. The Jotun speaks again. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Did he hear you speaking earlier? He had to have heard Thor screaming for Heimdall. Did he hear you and Sif arguing? How much does he know?

You find yourself backing up, and you stop when you feel Loki’s hand, outstretched slightly, press against the covered surface of your back, gently steadying you. When you look at him, he seems to be at a loss for words. You can’t say you feel any differently.

Thor, who had spoken loudly and boldly just moments earlier, is silent and pale. Sif, stepping silently and shakily forward, is the first to speak.

“King Laufey,” she utters, doing her best not to display signs of despair, “while the circumstances of our visit could very much be better, we come to return a prisoner.” The last word is a threat toward you, a reminder that previous plans have been canceled. She is going to get rid of you.

The giant, his face lined with intricate, deeply marked lines, looks quizzically at her, then at you. “Small for a giant’s offspring. ” He speaks slowly. It sounds like an insult. You take in a deep breath, refusing to look away. “Twenty years of age.”

“We understand that you believe her to be your daughter,” starts Sif, but she breaks off suddenly, sounding as though the air has been pulled from her body.

"We bring your daughter here in a gesture of peace," Loki says, and you notice that at the same time Sif lost her breath, Loki curled his fist, as if he had been the one to stop her talking. She looks at him accusingly but doesn’t do anything else, probably terrified. "Asgard's rulers have come to the conclusion that our quarrels with this realm ended inefficiently. We'd like to take some time to organize a proper treaty."

Oh, he's good.

Laufey chuckles, amused. He doesn’t seem to notice Loki’s magic. "And three of you? What well-dressed expandables Asgard must have."

Loki smiles faintly, signaling to Sif. "This is Lady Sif, one of our fiercest warriors. This is my brother, Thor," he signals to Thor, who is still looking a bit flabbergasted, then to himself "and I am Loki. We two are the Odinsons."

That piques his interest. He steps forward, and the four Jotuns surrounding him follow his movement. "The princes?" Laufey turns his gaze back to you. "And you, child. You're my daughter?"

You freeze for a moment, waiting for someone to speak for you, but they don't. You clear your throat. Your voice only shakes a little when it comes forward. "I certainly don't believe there to be any other undersized Jotuns my age, dead or alive, that were taken during the battle. It's not a very popular title."

To your relief, the answer seems to satisfy him. "Then they've kept it from you?" Laufey stares down the princes, lingering on each of them for far too long. Thor looks as if he’s going to speak, but Loki’s fist clenches tighter, and his lips seal shut. "They have locked you up, kept you from the truth, and even now, they restrain you." The handcuffs, frozen but refusing to break, feel heavy on your wrists. "If you were to one day sit on my throne, I wonder, how would you have these men pay for their crimes against you?"

Sif is giving you a cold, silent warning stare, and Thor looks like he might pass out- he does not appear to be breathing. Loki, on the other hand, edges closer to you, growing calmer with each passing moment.

"Well," you say, staring straight ahead. "Lady Sif has had no part in these doings. She hardly ever went down to the dungeons. So, even though I'm certain she'd have me hung if she had the chance,” the soldier is holding her breath, frozen, “she's technically innocent. Her only crime is disrespect." You practically feel the surprise bouncing off of her, and then her face contorts into an expression of suspicion. Loki is controlling her ability to speak- she must think he’s controlling yours as well. "Thor was arrogant, bothersome, but like Sif, he has not tried to harm me. The two of them live in Odin's shadow. They have no knowledge of what to do aside from what he instructs."

Laufey doesn't move, he just shifts his eyes between them, thinking. You don’t dare wait for him to speak, practically tripping over your own tongue in haste for this conversation to be over.

"Loki is so kind that he’s hardly even Asgardian.." You look over at him, asking silently for permission to go more into detail. You don’t want to spill your lifelong secrets if he doesn’t approve. He glances back, holds your gaze for a moment, and then nods wistfully, looking toward the ground. You turn your eyes back to Laufey. "He snuck down to the dungeons. Taught me how to read, how to speak, how to go as many places as I could without leaving my cell. I'd have gone mad without him.”

“They’re all innocent?” He furrows a brow, frown deepening. He’s testing you. “You don’t wish to put them through an inch- a fraction of the pain they put you through? Not even for a moment?”

“You asked me what I’d do as a ruler,” you quote, trying not to smile when Loki’s eyes light up at the familiarity. It’s always a joy to know he remembers your conversations. “Not what I’d do as a man.”

He barely registers any physical reaction before speaking again.

“How amiable. Unfortunately for them, I’m not quite as generous.” Laufey’s red, beady eyes sweep the four of you a final time, and then he turns, beckoning the lot of you, plus the soldiers, after him. “I’d normally have them chained to the walls and beaten to sod. However, your kindness has inspired me.”

Guards move behind you, pushing the other three forward, quite forcefully. Sif breaks free of Loki’s spell and unsheaths her sword, swinging toward the giants, but one of the guards closest to her grabs hold of her wrist, and she drops the weapon before she gets a chance to strike, holding her wrist close to her chest and stumbling back with shock. Two Jotuns seize her by the shoulders and steer her back with the others. She struggles against them, and Thor, alarmed by the sight of the wound, moves to help her, but the giants swat him aside just as easily as they did her. Loki doesn’t bother fighting, resisting. He seems to already be thinking of a plan. He looks calm. He doesn’t look at you.

“I’ll leave them alive. They’ll live what time they have here in the dungeons. And as for you,” he turns around once more, and you freeze, watching the three Asgardians as they’re shoved toward a downward stairwell, leading into a lightless below. “You’ll join my other children in their quarters. They will be awaiting you.”

He walks out of the room, double doors closing loudly behind him.

Frostbitten Tags:

@natalia-rushman @what-inspirational-name@jessiejunebug@fandomdestroyer @a-new-schematic @iris-suoh @pandacookieowo @givememyskittlesback @awesomefandomsunited @itsanallygator @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fire-treasure-iii @strangerliaa @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @woohoney @itsanallygator

[callboxkat]

Infinitesimal (part 32)

Author’s note: Hey guys! This is only two hours late, so I’m calling it a win. Also, from now on--if you want to be added or removed from the tag list, please send an ask! I was looking back at older chapters, and apparently there were a few people who asked in a comment that I missed. I’d like to avoid that in the future! 

Enjoy the update. :)

Warnings: nightmare, injuries, death mention, fear, arguing, mentions of kidnapping and being trapped, illness mention, referenced past abuse

Word count: 3691

Look for the masterpost in the notes!

...

Patton blinked awake slowly. His vision faded into focus, and he was startled to see thick, black metal bars criss-crossing about a foot above him.

No… it couldn’t be. How was Patton back in a cage? Hadn’t he gotten away? Fear started to twist in his chest as he frantically tried to figure out how he had gotten here.

“Well aren’t you being a lazy-bones, dolly?” a high-pitched, grating voice suddenly sing-songed. It felt like it came from everywhere at once, making even his bones vibrate. Patton’s blood ran cold.

No…. No, no, no, no! Patton sat up fast, almost like he’d been shocked, snapping his head towards the source of the voice. Pale blue, visibly annoyed eyes larger than his entire head met his.

“Marissa,” he whispered, the word as frail as a dead leaf trembling on its branch, about to be blown away in the wind. His eyes were wide with shock as they took in the huge child’s pudgy, pink face. His fingers began to go numb with panic, his legs trembling.

“I want to play,” Marissa announced, spitting slightly on the ‘p’. Her hand shot towards the cage door, the movement almost too fast to see. She grinned, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth.

Patton jumped up  while she was busy unlocking the door and tried to run, to hide, but there was nothing in the cage but himself, and his feet seemed to slide backwards on the slick plastic floor, making his attempts to run slower than a crawl. The door fell open with a clang; and Marissa’s hand snatched him up easily, lifting him off his feet. Patton’s arms were pinned to his sides, his legs hanging uselessly. The grip around him tightened, pushing the air from his lungs and leaving him breathless.

Marissa pulled him out of the cage and dropped him unceremoniously on the table it sat on. Patton staggered to his feet and attempted to run again, slipping on the fabric scraps strewn about on the wood. Marissa casually flicked his back, sending him crashing to the unforgiving tabletop with a small cry. A sharp pain throbbed in his back, and tears pricked in Patton’s eyes. He had only just begun pushing himself back up on shaky arms when Marissa abruptly grabbed at him again, pinching his right arm between her fingertips, the pressure strongest just above his elbow. She slowly lifted up his struggling form, and Patton’s arm quickly began to go numb as he couldn’t help but whine in discomfort. His legs kicked at the air, and Marissa shook him harshly. It was a miracle that his shoulder didn’t dislocate.

“Stop it!” she snapped at him. “I’m playing!”

Patton went limp immediately, hanging awkwardly as dead weight from the one arm Marissa had pinched in her grasp. His heart was pounding, but he knew from experience that if he kept struggling, he could get seriously hurt.

Marissa giggled, apparently pleased by his compliance. She took a step back from the table, then lifted Patton up high, oh, so high, impossibly far from the floor below. He stared down at Marissa’s face with frightened eyes. She grinned, her teeth somehow even sharper than before, like the shark teeth he had seen once in a book.

“W-wait, p-ple-ase,” he gasped desperately, realizing what was about to happen. “Don’t!”

She let go anyway.

…

Patton awoke for real with a jolt and a startled, quickly stifled cry. Disoriented by the dream that still felt so incredibly real, his eyes darted around, desperately trying to figure out where he was. It was a stark contrast to what he had just experienced: It was dark; the cage and Marissa were both gone; and most notably, he was no longer plummeting to his certain death. He  found that he was lying in a nest of blankets and other soft materials, a warmth at his side.

Patton knew then where he was: He was in Virgil’s and Emile’s home, curled up alongside them. He wasn’t with Marissa. He wasn’t with any human at all. He was free. He was safe.

I’m safe, Patton repeated to himself. I’m safe.

As the all-consuming terror of his dream faded, Patton slowly felt himself return to his body. One of the blankets had gotten wrapped around him at some point, nearly pinning his left arm to his side. He had also rolled onto his other arm, which had now gone numb beneath him from the elbow down.

Patton forced his left arm free of the blanket, then rolled over onto his back and tried to catch his breath as quietly as possible. Pins and needles pricked through his numb right arm, the feeling gradually returning to it as his heart rate just barely began to slow to its normal pace. It had been a while since he’d had a nightmare that bad. He didn’t think he had had one so vivid and terrifying since before Virgil had rescued him.

The brother lying closer to him was stirring, probably roused due to Patton’s movement and any noise he hadn’t quite managed to silence. Patton had gone to bed first of the three that night, and it was rather dark in the room, so he wasn’t sure which brother it was. He hoped that he hadn’t woken either of them. Virgil had told him that he could always wake him up if this happened, but… Patton just felt so guilty doing that. Virgil and Emile had already done so much for him.

The person lying beside him relaxed again after a moment, his breathing evening out; and Patton released his breath in a quiet, relieved sigh. He stared up into the darkness, his heart still pounding, and hoped that he would eventually fall back asleep.

…

“Hey… did I elbow someone last night?”

“What?” Virgil asked, glancing over at Emile from where he’d been sitting, in the middle of sewing up a hole in his jacket. Patton, who had been sitting nearby untangling a wad of string, stilled. He thought of the part of his dream when Marissa had flicked him. The spot on his back was still a little sore despite the injury having happened in a dream.

“I thought, maybe… I don’t know,” Emile was saying, trailing off uncertainly. He shrugged, glancing between his brother and Patton. “Sorry.”

“I mean, you do it often enough that I wouldn’t be surprised,” Virgil admitted jokingly. “But it wasn’t me.” He glanced towards Patton questioningly.

“Oh—um, maybe,” Patton admitted. “My back, I think? It wasn’t too hard. I barely even woke up. I never would have known if you hadn’t said anything.” He took a long sip of his water, glancing away.

“Oh,” Emile said, sounding relieved. “Okay. Sorry about that, anyway. It was an accident.”

Patton shook his head, setting down his cup and looking up at Emile with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, kiddo; you were asleep. It’s not your fault. I’m fine, promise.”

Virgil glanced between the two of them, then returned to his sewing. One of the lights flickered overhead just as Virgil went to do a stitch, and he pricked his finger with the needle. Virgil sighed, sitting back. “So, are we doing anything today besides mending clothes?” he asked, sticking the tip of his sore finger in his mouth.

“I was actually meaning to talk to you two about that,” Emile said. “I need to go out and get some things.”  He rolled his shoulders and stretched. “It might take a couple days, though .”

“A couple of days?” Virgil echoed. “Where are you going?”

“I need to get some stuff on the upper floors. For repairs and such. We’re running low.”

Virgil removed the finger from his mouth. “Okay. Let me come.”

Emile sighed. “No.”

Patton shifted uncomfortably. The light flickered again.

“Why not?” Virgil said, sounding annoyed now.

“I’m—I’m gonna take a walk,” Patton announced. Virgil and Emile didn’t fight very often; but things were still  kind of tense between them; and it made Patton rather nervous to see, even though he knew by now that they were not going to change their minds about letting him stay.

“Wait, Pat, you don’t have to go,” Virgil said, the annoyance immediately gone from his voice.

“I won’t go far,” Patton promised, already getting to his feet.

Virgil sighed, rubbed his temple, then nodded. “…Okay. Don’t be gone too long, though, yeah?”

Patton made an affirmative noise, grabbed a water pouch from near the door, and left the room as he fastened it around his waist.

…

“Why can’t I go with you?” Virgil asked once Patton was gone, turning back to Emile. “Do you really still think I can’t do it?”

“Virgil, I can’t—”

“You can,” Virgil interrupted. “I can do it. You know it. I know it. I’ve left the walls before, so many times! Haven’t I proven myself capable? I know you’re still mad that I lied to you, but I can do it! I saved Patton from humans. I can steal a few crumbs without being caught. Why do you still treat me like a helpless child?”

“It’s not that I think you can’t do it,” Emile said as calmly as possible.

“Then what is it? Are you still mad about me saving Patton?”

“I’m not mad that you saved Patton, of course not! I’m mad because—I’m mad that you didn’t tell me about him sooner!”

Virgil paused, confused. He hadn’t told Emile about going to see Patton in the time between finding and rescuing him, that was true, but why was this somehow worse than all the other times he had left the walls without Emile’s permission?

“Look, I get that it wasn’t safe—.”

“It’s not that,” Emile snapped. “It’s not just that. It’s…. Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I wouldn’t want to help him? Why didn’t you trust me? Did you really think that I would ever leave someone stuck in a cage, that I would be that selfish?”

“…No,” Virgil said quietly, realization dawning in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say more, but found that he had apparently forgotten how to speak.

“I just… I need some time to think. Okay?”

After a long pause, Virgil all but whispered, “You’ve had two months to think.”

“Have I?” Emile asked. “We’ve been busy trying to get Patton back on his feet—he was so sick when you brought him here, Virge; you know that. And besides that, I’ve had to be collecting supplies for three people now—and don’t you dare use that against me,” he interrupted himself, before Virgil had the chance to say that that was all the more reason for him to go with. Which may or may not have been exactly what he was about to do.

Instead, Virgil sighed. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Patton wouldn’t want to be left alone, anyway, would he?” he reasoned more gently.

Virgil thought for a moment. “I guess not,” he admitted reluctantly. He knew that Patton couldn’t do a trip like that yet, certainly not easily, and it wasn’t fair to ask him to attempt to travel that far. Emile had a point. They couldn’t leave Patton alone here for two days. Not with the nightmares he got when alone. He looked away, then got to his feet, grabbing the crutches that had been laying at his side. “I’m going to go find Patton,” he announced, already on his way out the door.

“Do you want me to wait until you get back before I leave?” Emile called after him. “I have everything mostly ready, but I can wait.”

“No, why bother?” Virgil said, his back to his brother. “Don’t let me interrupt your thinking time.” He did pause in the doorway, though, and look back at Emile. “I am sorry,” he said, his tone softer and gentler than before. “I wasn’t thinking about—When I didn’t tell you about Patton, it wasn’t because I actually thought you’d leave him. I know you would have helped him escape, too. I was just… just scared, I guess. I didn’t realize that it would seem like I thought you’d do that to him. So… I’m sorry for that. Really.”

Emile nodded, not meeting his eyes; and Virgil left the house.

…

Virgil had a pretty good idea of where he could probably find Patton. He knew that his friend wouldn’t have left the floor, which narrowed things down quite a bit. There was a spot that the two of them had visited frequently since Patton had first arrived, as the two of them went on regular walks together, trying to get Patton’s strength up.

The walks were working pretty well, and they could go a lot further now before Patton needed a rest than they had been able to at the beginning, meaning that they usually no longer needed to use this place for a rest. Patton had come a long way. Even so, they often visited there, whether Patton actually needed a break or not.

There was a spot where a hole was cut into an air vent on this floor, both to allow access to the vent and to let more of the heat it carried to reach the littles’ house in the colder months. There was a vent cover near the entrance that had a view down into the apartment below, which had a large aquarium almost perfectly placed in the center of the view the vent provided. It was a nice place to spend some time, honestly, just watching the fish swim about. Virgil went there; and sure enough, Patton was sitting in front of the vent cover, hugging his knees and looking through the slats at the fish tank below.

“Hey,” Virgil said softly, nearing.

Patton looked up. “Oh, hi, kiddo!” he greeted. “What’re you doing here?”

“Came to find you.” He sat down at Patton’s side. “How are the fish?”

“Sasha and Sweetpea keep chasing each other,” Patton answered. He had insisted on naming all ten of the fish in the tank during their past visits. “Maybe they’re playing tag.”

Virgil nodded seriously, looking down at the fish, two of which, sure enough, were chasing each other around the tank. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “I hope we didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay,” Patton mumbled, looking back to the fish.

“It’s okay if it’s not okay,” Virgil said.

Patton shifted, adjusting how his arms rested around his knees. “Really, Virgil—I know that you and Emile are going to fight sometimes. And I know you’re not going to kick me out. It just… makes me nervous, sometimes, that tone of voice.” He looked away with a feeble shrug. “

Virgil looked down at the floor of the vent ruminatively. After a moment, he put a reassuring arm around Patton’s shoulders. “I’ll try to not do that anymore,” he said. “And I’ll talk to Emile. We can try to have more… discussions, before things get heated.”

“It’s not even really just fighting, though,” Patton admitted softly. “It’s just…”—he smudged at his eye with his sleeve—”when she used to get annoyed, it wasn’t… It wasn’t good.” He kept staring determinedly down at the fish. “I know you’re not—you’re not even….” (Human, Virgil thought, silently finishing the sentence.) Patton swallowed. “But it still makes me nervous, for some reason. It’s not fair to ask you guys to never be annoyed with each other, or realistic. I know that.”

Virgil bit his lip, his heart sinking at the thought of having scared Patton. “How about we promise to leave the room if that happens?” he offered. “You shouldn’t have to be the one who has to leave.”

Patton seemed about to refuse, but Virgil squeezed his shoulder, and he reluctantly nodded. “If… if Emile’s okay with it,” he whispered.

“He will be, I know it. Besides,” Virgil said. “Emile and I were talking, and… we should hopefully not be fighting as much anymore. I realized I’ve been kind of a jerk to him.”

“You’re not a jerk,” Patton mumbled.

“Thanks. But… I did act like a jerk, kind of, to him. He was upset that I didn’t tell him about you before I brought you home. I guess he thought that I thought he wouldn’t want to help you. Which… I honestly hadn’t even considered.”

Patton glanced over, but he didn’t say anything.

“Anyway, I think it’s going to be better now,” Virgil said. “He’s probably out on that supply run already, though, so it’s just going to be the two of us for the next couple of days.”

…

Several minutes passed in silence, the two friends watching the aquarium below. After a while, Patton released his knees and sat back, uncurling a bit from his formerly hunched position.

“Do you think Roman and Logan are okay?” Patton asked softly. The question probably seemed out of nowhere, especially given their previous conversation topic; but Patton still thought about the humans quite a lot.

“Does it matter?” Virgil frowned, glancing at him. “They’re humans.”

“Yeah, but…” Patton bit his lip. “I’d just like to know.”

“Why?” The question seemed genuine.

“I don’t… I don’t know. They were pretty nice to me, weren’t they, even though they’re humans? I don’t really—I don’t know why they let me go, or why… anything they did. But they were nice to me. Without them, I could’ve….” Patton trailed off, uncomfortable and uncertain. “I don’t know.” The humans had saved him, really. Patton was pretty sure. He knew that he had been in bad shape when the found him—even if they had basically kidnapped him, Patton thought that their intentions were good. They had fixed up his hands, given him food and water and a place to recover from his ordeal; although, they hadn’t exactly gone about it the way that Patton would have preferred. Even after they had stopped trapping him in the cage, they left him on top of a table that he was too ill to climb down alone. There were also the multiple times they had scared him, whether it was intentional or not. Plus, while he didn’t remember much about when the humans had found him at the beach, he was pretty sure that he had not exactly been captured willingly. Still, the bad things that the humans had done didn’t negate the ways that they had attempted to help him. Even the outfit whose sleeve Patton was worrying between his fingers attested to that. The fact remained that, had Roman and Logan not found him, the chances were not insignificant that someone else would have instead. And even if that hadn’t been her… Patton would prefer not to think about it. He knew that he had gotten lucky.

If he hadn’t been caught by Logan and Roman, after all, he would never have met Virgil and Emile, would he?

Virgil brought Patton out of his thoughts when he sighed, looking up towards the ceiling. He had made it clear that he still thought that the humans had been trying to trick Patton into becoming a pet, or an experiment, or something of the sort through some kind of mind game; but he had also all but admitted that they had seemed to genuinely want to help Patton. Now, he looked conflicted.

As Patton watched, Virgil screwed his eyes shut, as if already suspecting that he was going to regret what he was about to say. “Well…” he began reluctantly, “I guess… we have some free time while Emile’s out on his supply run. If—if it’ll make you happy, we can go down to the second floor. Just for a bit, to look in on them.”

Patton sat up straighter and turned to his friend, surprised. “But… I thought you closed off all the doors?” He had been working on that for a while, starting a couple of weeks after he’d rescued Patton. Once he’d been settled in, Virgil had started leaving about one day per week to work on closing off the doors. Emile had reluctantly allowed it since it didn’t require leaving the walls, and Virgil surely wasn’t going to disobey in this case. Virgil had finished the job some time ago.

Virgil shifted at his side. “I left one,” he admitted quietly. “For emergencies.”

Patton felt a flutter of excitement. “You’re sure about this?” he checked.

…

Virgil knew he shouldn’t have made the offer.

The humans that Patton had been trapped with were just that: humans. Practically synonymous with the word “danger”. But as Virgil watched his friend’s eyes light up, he felt a bit better about his decision. What he was offering really didn’t invite a lot of danger: they were not going to let the humans see them, and they were not going to get close enough to get caught even if that did somehow happen. They were certainly not going to talk to the humans. Virgil was only offering a look at them, to show his friend that they were okay. Something he would definitely not be offering had the humans shown any sign of seriously looking for Patton. Either they had given up quickly, or they were almost hilariously incompetent at searching for him. Good news for the littles either way.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Virgil assured, getting to his feet. “Consider it an apology for upsetting you.” He adjusted his crutches and put out a hand to help Patton up. His friend took it with a small smile; and Virgil pulled him to his feet, trying to ignore the fact that he could still feel the thick, slightly raised line of the scar across his friend’s palm. “Let me be clear, though—we’re not talking to them, or letting them see us. Just looking in on them. I left a doorway in the living room, where we can see them and stay hidden.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Patton said.

“I know. But if it’ll make you feel better, and we don’t take any risks… why not?”

[gotboredwrote]

I’ll Keep You Alive // RMT

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5K Style: One-Shot Warnings: Medical discussions including seasonal allergies/appendicitis (w/blood added in), angst, fluff, swearing Summary: Just because he’s in a band that’s doing really well doesn’t mean Roger doesn’t care about what he used to study. No, he doesn’t want to be a dentist, but he still remembers a bunch of stuff from his biology studies. Little does he know, he would be putting it to use on tour. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: Request/idea from @bensrhapsody, but changed a little bit to better fit what I feel comfortable writing (I got permission, don’t worry). Also, I have her to thank for the title partially as well because I’m a dumb dumb who can write the story but not the title. Never written for Roger before, so hopefully this is up all your alley’s, Roger-stans! (#dontcomeaftermeifitsbad #please #rememberimadeakybabe)

Masterlist

~

Being a roadie had its perks, sure. For one, you got to get close and personal to bands that you otherwise would never be able to afford to see live. Among other things, you got to travel the world, get in shape from moving around so much, and you got paid to top it all off. Not such a bad gig, if you were the one being asked. You had gone on one tour with Queen before, and they liked you enough to ask you to come back for a second one. Of course you took the job, it was never a dull day around the four of them. They each had such distinct personalities, and despite being literal rock gods, all four were wildly smart. Each in different realms, too. Which came in handy from day to day. Brian could tell by the look of the night sky before if the weather was going to be good or bad, John could always help with any tech that broke or malfunctioned, Freddie was a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy, so he helped out where he could, and if anyone was ever not feeling good, Roger could usually tell them what they needed to feel better easily, cheaply, and quickly. You hated feeling like a bother, but one day, you seriously needed Roger’s help, because you feared for your life.

~

[flashback start]

You knew first hand that Roger was really good at helping people get better when they fell ill. On the first tour you went with them, your allergies started kicking in towards the end of the tour, considering it ended in April that year. You were almost debilitated because your body was taking in new pollens and whatnot that it was not used to defending off. Your body was trying its best, but in the end, it was futile because you fell ill anyway. To top it all off, you forgot to pack your usual allergy medication, so you had nothing to help you fend off the sneezing and coughing. Obviously, you really could not hide being sick. Someone will pick up on it, whether the tone of your voice is one octave lower than usual or they hear you sneeze six times in a row. One night, it got really bad, and you were having choking fits every single time you came close to drifting into a slumber, promptly waking you up. Little did you know, you were loud enough to wake up the bandmate on one side of you, and someone from the costume department on the other side of you. The costume designer just checked up on you in the morning, not really thinking anything of the noises coming from your body. The bandmate felt differently. You coughed out of surprise when you heard someone knocking at your door at almost 2:00 in the morning. Slowly, you crawled out of bed, tossing a throw blanket around your shoulders because you felt cold to the touch despite your body breaking out in a sweat. When you got to the door and looked through the peephole, you saw a rat’s nest of blonde locks going in every single direction, leaning up sideways against the door. Before moving your hand to the handle, you knocked quietly to signal to Roger that you were going to open the door so he would not fall sideways into your room. When you looked back through the peephole, hand now on the handle, he had gotten your message and was standing facing the door. You lightly pulled it open, grimacing slightly at the bright lights of the hotel hallway.

“Hi, Roger. Why are you awake?”

“It’s your fault, love. I’m right next to you and I can hear you hacking up a bloody storm.”

“I’m sorry, Roger, it’s just my fucking allergies.”

“You sure? It sounds worse than that.” As if on cue, you hunched over into what felt like the four hundredth cough attack that night, and when you finally stopped, your breathing had turned into wheezing.

“Alright, go sit on your bed, I’ll be right back. I’ll prop the door open so you don’t have to get back up.”

Before you could ask him why he was leaving already, he was out the door, so you just trudged over to your bed, plopping down on it making it bounce lightly and squeak quietly. You were only alone for about fifteen seconds and then Roger came back in, holding a medium-sized black make-up bag. He shut your door and walked over to stand in front of your bedside table.

“Roger, I’m not sure what they taught you in biology school, but make-up is not going to make me feel better.”

“Oi, shut it. Want my help or not, Miss Sarcasm?” He spoke through a smug smile.

“Fine, yeah I want your help. What do you need from me?”

“First, I need you to tell me you trust me.”

“What? Why?”

“Are you really going to make me explain why?”

“Um, yeah. You can’t just say that and make me not be concerned about trusting you.”

“Fine. Basically, on a previous tour, one of the roadies, her name was Maria, got really sick. Like, caught the bad flu strain that was going around that year. I offered to help her by giving her some medication for the nausea and lightheadedness, stuff you can get over-the-counter, but she assumed I was going to drug her. She came about one piece of paperwork away from filing a lawsuit against me and the band. I really don’t want to go through that again when all I’m trying to do is be a nice person.”

“You know, for a drummer in a rock band, you’re pretty eloquent and thoughtful, Roger Taylor.”

“…um…”

“That’s my way of saying I trust you.”

You could hear him breathe out a sigh of relief, probably a combination of knowing he was not going to get sued as well as not having to hear you cough for much longer. He asked you to tell him what all was happening with you so he could see if he had any medication that would cover most of your symptoms. Turns out, everything you described really was just severe seasonal allergies, and he happened to have a stronger allergy medication than what you normally took. He just told you to keep the bottle and use them at your discretion. Follow the instructions on the bottle and you should be good as new within a few days.

“Thanks, Roger. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know that. But at least this way we both get some sleep, eh? I’ll let myself out. See you tomorrow, love.”

“Goodnight, Roger.”

[flashback end]

If only what you were currently dealing with felt like seasonal allergies. It was not even allergy season, it was the end of November. And the tour had just started less than a month prior. At first, you assumed that you were just having back muscle spasms. You had never experienced them before, so you just guessed this is what they felt like. When the pain first started, it started on your lower right side, and just felt like you pulled something. It went away after a few minutes and you never thought anything of it. Then it happened again, but a little bit more forceful.

“Jesus, is this what contractions are like? Count me out for that.”

Trying to make a funny situation out of the pain you were feeling was not really the smartest plan of action, but it was the only one you could come up with at the moment. The pain kept coming in waves, and each wave was worse than before. Eventually, after a few hours of dealing with the pain on your own, it stopped. Out of thin air, it just went away. Normally, that would be the kind of thing to make a person do a double take and ask themselves ‘what is going on?’ Not you, though, you were just thrilled that the imaginary back contractions were over and done with. Moving on with your day, showtime nearing, you kept doing your job, exchanging words with other roadies and the band here and there. Not once feeling uncomfortable again. You watched the show, and for the first time in four shows, nothing went wrong. All the electronics performed the way they were supposed to, Brian did not snap any strings, nor did John, and Freddie managed to keep his mic stand in once piece. Roger threw a drumstick during a particularly fast song, but you had gifted him a cup to put on his drum kit so he could keep spares in there to grab in case of such an event. It came in handy more often than he would like to admit. After the show, you congratulated the boys on another performance well done, and proceeded to travel back to your hotel room. You guys did not have to travel tonight because they had two sold out shows in a row at the venue they were at, so it was nice to have an actual bed for once. This time around though, you were on a floor that was just crew members. All the band members had rooms on the floor above you guys. Not that any of you minded, it was not like you had a reason to mind. Around three in the morning, you awoke to the feeling of those strange back contraction pains again, this time accompanied by some serious chills. Then you felt it – the pit of your stomach dropped, and you were over the hotel toilet in record time. Initially you thought that maybe this was how your body handled food poisoning, considering you had never had that before. Then you looked at what had come out of you. Bloody.

~

“Roger…Roger?”

You were dragging yourself up the stairwell and down the hallway to his room, calling out to him hoarsely. You knew that he would never have heard you, but you tried, nonetheless. You got to his door, knocked once, and then collapsed on the floor. Startled, Roger shot straight up in bed and sprinted to the door, only in his underwear but not caring. When he opened the door, your head fell flat onto his floor, and he could hear the strangled moans coming from your throat. He could also see the sweat pooling on your forehead, a small bit of dried blood and vomit on the corner of your mouth, and how you were hunched over in the fetal position clutching your stomach.

“Roger…it hurts so much.”

He did not even say a word. He ran over to his hotel phone, and you could barely hear him utter the address of the hotel before you passed out. The next thing you knew, you were woken up by the feeling of an IV going in your arm, as well as the feeling of a moving vehicle. An ambulance. How did you get here? Why was Roger looking at you like that? Then the waves of pain struck you again, and you remembered everything that had happened not thirty minutes prior.

“Oh…God…”

“Ms. Y/L/N, please try not to talk or move, we are trying to prepare you for emergency surgery as soon as we get to the hospital.”

“Emer…gency… surgery? For… for what?”

“Relax, love. You’re gonna be fine.” Roger’s voice broke through all the beeping and liquids sloshing around, grounding you in the scary situation. “I’m just glad you came and got me when you did.” You could feel his hand clamped around yours, sweaty. “I may know how to help with allergies, but this is out of my area of expertise, love.”

“Roger…”

“Hush, love. Try to relax. We’re pulling into the hospital now. I’ll be right by your side when you wake up.”

You tried to respond, but you felt the general anesthesia hit you, and you were out like a light. Roger watched as they moved your body from an ambulance gurney to a hospital gurney and usher you down the hallway following the signs that said “OPERATING ROOM.” He followed you as far as he could, until a male nurse held his hand out flat in front of Roger, forcibly stopping his movement and almost knocking the wind out of him.

“What the fuck mate—”

“Sorry, sir, you can’t go further than this. Please wait in that waiting room right over there. I’ll be sure to have a surgeon assistant come update you throughout the surgery.”

“But—”

“I’m sorry, sir, it’s hospital policy. If you could, please make your way over to the waiting area.”

Roger huffed angrily and full of worry, but did what the nurse told him to do. He sat down, seeing all the magazines and children’s games sitting on the tables in front of him. He was too distracted. He was terrified. The last time he knew someone who had to have emergency surgery did not make it out alive. Those two words strung together instantly usher a sense of panic into him that he does not have a way of controlling. The last thing he wanted was for you to not feel good in the first place, but having to sit face to face with the knowledge that you laying in a gurney could be the last image he saw of you was too much. He started to sob. Sobbed himself to sleep. The nurses just watched in pity.

~

“Sir?” Roger felt someone nudge at his shoulder, but he did not fully stir awake yet. “Sir?”

“Huh, what…”

“Sir, I just wanted to update you on the girl you came in with.”

Roger was brought back to reality when he fully opened his eyes. The bright white lights shining above him, the smell of cleanliness, and a lady in scrubs. A little bloody.

“Y/N?”

“Yes. We’re done the hard part. Her appendix has been removed successfully, before any serious rupturing happened. Some small ruptures here and there, but nothing major. Now all the doctor has to do is remove any fluid in her abdominal cavity and stitch her up. Once she’s finished, we will wheel her to recovery and bring you over to her as well. This should all happen within the next hour or so. Is that okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. Thanks for the update, I’m, uh, going to try to go back to sleep now.”

If he had not fallen into such a deep sleep, he would have had more to say. More questions for the nurse. But the nerves he had felt when he saw how broken you were earlier took all the energy out of him, and once he sat in something even the littlest bit comfortable, he passed right out. Just like you had when you hit the floor of his hotel room. Roger laid his head back down on the side of the chair, thinking of your smiling face as he drifted back into the land of sleep. Almost praying that he would get to see it again.

~

Like clockwork, the same nurse from earlier woke Roger up, this time less groggily, and she instructed him to follow her to the recovery area. Where you would be. The fact that he was actually walking there almost brought him to tears. He would get to see your smile again. When he was finally in the back, he saw that they had placed a chair next to your bed for him, with a few magazines. He was told that he would get to sit with you while you were still under the influence of the general anesthesia, but that you would be awake within twenty minutes. He nodded at the nurse, offering a quiet ‘thank you’ and proceeded to sit in the chair. Twenty minutes. He waited over two hours, surely, he could wait twenty minutes to hear your voice again. He could at least see you now, so… baby steps. He tossed the magazines to the floor after realizing that there was no way they could be more interesting than the woman lying in front of him. He scooted his chair forward so his knees were almost pressing against the side of your bed, and he laid his hand on what he assumed was your thigh based on your profile under the sheet. He lightly squeezed, and simultaneously the tears spilled from his eyes. Ones he did not realize were even threatening to fall, nor did he realize the reason for.

“Hi, love. I, uh… I don’t know why I’m bloody crying. But here we are. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you this time. I know you like coming to me for help when you don’t feel good, and… I feel like I just made you break your trust in me. I, uh…” Roger choked a little bit on his tears. It was not like you and him were the closest of friends. If he was being honest, there were other roadies he considered better friends than you. But for reasons outside of your control.

Then it hit him. Like a ton of bricks. There were the roadies whose names he did not know. There were the roadies who he was friends with, and the ones he had previously had a slight friends with benefits situation with. There were the roadies who made him angry. The ones who made him sad. There were the roadies he practically considered family because they had been with him since Smile. Most of these roadies, except for the ones from Smile, never came back for a second tour. Then there was you. You did not fit into any of those categories. He knew your name, he was friends with you, but not with benefits, you never made him angry or sad, you were not with him in his Smile days, and Roger was the one who wanted you to come on a second tour. You had created your own category. There was a roadie he loved.

“I need you to wake up, love. I… need to let you know that I’m gonna get you through this recovery. And that I am never going to let you get sick or hurt again, not under my watch. If you do, I’m going to make you better.”

“Is that a promise, Roger Taylor?”

The tears stopped at his head whipped in the direction of your quiet voice. Your eyes were still almost completely shut, but he could see you looking at him. His heart fluttered when he made eye contact with you, and the tears started up again.

“Yes, it’s a promise, love.”

“Good. Now, please go get me some ice chips, my throat feels like a vultures crotch (we love a borhap reference), and my stomach feels like an anvil landed on it and is somehow twisting it in all directions.”

“You got it, darling.”

~

You were allowed to be discharged the same day, so Roger carefully wheeled you to the taxi he called, and then slowly helped you to the elevator so he could bring you to his room.

“Roger, why aren’t you taking me to my room?”

“Didn’t I promise you that I would be taking care of you? Answering to all of your becking and calling?”

“Are you forgetting that you have a show to do?”

“And I will be helping you until the moment I have to walk onto stage, and the minute we are done, I’ll be right back here helping you.”

Roger carefully helped you lay back on his bed, almost tearing up at the sound of your groans from bending over. Once you were comfortable, with about fourteen pillows behind and surrounding you, he walked over to his phone and called room service.

“Hello, this is room 5667. I’d like to put in a request for the #6 dinner for two, and two pints of [your favorite ice cream {or other dessert if you are lactose intolerant} flavor] to be delivered ASAP. Name? Roger. Thank you.”

“Roger—”

“No words from you. I am eating dinner with you, and then I will be finding a movie for you to watch during the show to enjoy with your favorite dessert. And you cannot pay me, or try and get out of it.”

“If you insist.”

After dinner, Roger flitted about his room gathering up the things he would need to take to the show that he did not keep with the roadies, and you watched him move. Tons of people that you talked to, fans that did not realize that you worked for them, would air their thoughts on the man to you. ‘Such a womanizer!’ ‘A dirty cheater, the wanker.’ ‘Hot down to every single molecule, but not a good personality.’ At first, when you started working for them, you were afraid that they were going to be true. You thought he was going to be an asshole. And he could be. If he was truly mad. That was a very small percentage of the time, despite what people thought. All other times he was a big softie. Kind of melted your heart. Not in the ‘I have feelings for the drummer of a band’ kind of way, just at the fact that a human could be as kind and thoughtful as he was despite the bad boy nature he tried to present himself with. He stuck to your side like a golden retriever, and while you appreciated being doted on, it was a little bit funny seeing it be someone like Roger. You giggled to yourself at your thoughts.

“What’s so funny, darling?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I promise.” You could not stop the wide grin from overtaking your features as you spoke.

“Nobody likes a liar, love. If it didn’t run the risk of popping your stitches, I would be all over you, tickling you to get the answer from you.” Very golden retriever like, that’s for damn sure.

“Okay, okay. If you must know, I was just thinking about how different you really are from the image you present yourself with.”

“Explain?”

“You present yourself as the bad boy drummer that all the girls go crazy for. And I won’t be the person who denies that it has worked for you, in more ways than one, more than once. But I’ve seen you in more situations than band ones. I’ve seen you when you’re vulnerable.” You had to stop to take a drink of water, your throat still pretty dry from the tubes during the surgery. “You really aren’t a tough guy. You’re… genuinely one of the sweetest men I’ve had the pleasure and honor of knowing. You are something else, Roger Taylor. And I feel like I haven’t seen you act the way you do around me around other roadies. Regardless of any circumstance.”

You saw the way Roger tensed at your words, but thought nothing of it. Little did you know, he was fearing that you figured out his feelings. Being the tough guy he is though, he thought of a way to dodge the words you said with a jab of his own. Luckily, he had just finished setting up your movie and getting your ice cream, so he could say it as he walked out the door.

“Well. You have the next three hours to figure out why that is, love. Expect a quiz when I return.”

He lightly placed his hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair, electing to do something more friendly than kissing your forehead or something, as to not give anything away. And out the door he went. As soon as you heard the door close, you let out a breath you did not realize you were holding in. He had not even made it out the door before you knew what the answer to his quiz would be.

~

Sweaty. He was sweaty and wanted to shower. By the time he had made it to his room, his shirt had been removed he just wanted to flop down into bed and pass out. After the adrenaline of the show, his brain had completely wiped his memory of you still seated in his bed. You heard the lock of his door, but made no effort to move your head to look in his direction. As soon as you heard the door close behind him, you spoke up.

“I mean something to you, don’t I?”

Roger almost completely jumped out his skin.

“Bloody hell… Y/N, I-I forgot you were here.”

“Did I get your quiz right?”

“Wha—”

“The reason you treat me the way you do. It’s because I mean something to you, isn’t it?”

“I think you need to be more specific than that love, that could…that could mean a lot of things.”

“I don’t want to sound stupid.”

“You won’t. I promise.”

“Do… you have feelings… for me?”

Roger just stared at you, wide and glossy eyed, mouth slightly agape, trying to hid how nervous he was. Hands sweaty again.

“That’s why I promised to take care of you. I hated seeing you with allergies.” He started to cry openly. “Imagine how broken I felt when there wasn’t anything I could do for you when you were…practically dying on my hotel floor.”

You just watched him pour out his soul to you, letting him plead for you.

“And-and-and I know that you’ve probably heard the stories of me and certain fans. The women. Have I done that shit sometimes? Yeah. But ever since you’ve joined the team I haven’t. I haven’t done anything. Not even really thought about other women.”

You believed him.

“Would you ever give someone like me a chance?”

“C’mere.”

Roger made his way over to you slowly, unsure of what you were going to do. He was nervous as all hell, because he had never felt like this about any of the women he met, and he did not want to lose you. Eventually he got to the side of his bed where you were sitting, and you motioned for him to sit on the other side of you. Roger felt like he did something wrong, but when he finally plopped down onto the other side of the bed, you reached up to grab his cheek.

“I would have walked over to you and kissed you myself, but my stomach hurts too much.”

Roger laughed with his whole heart and soul. He truly did not expect you to want him back. It made waiting all this time for any form of intimacy so worth it. He kissed you with more passion than he put into his drumming. He even got a little bit too into it and started to move his down your torso, and the minute you felt his fingers below your chest, you grabbed one of the pillows situated to your side and smacked him in the head.

“Hey! What was that for? I was getting into that.”

“Stitches, wanker.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry, love.” Permanent Taglist: @bensrhapsody @chlobo6 @gardnerlangway @xtrashmammalstefx

Roger Taylor Taglist: n/a

// If you want to be added to either taglist mentioned above, or the one for another character I’ve written for, send me an ask here! //

[ambiencespectrum]

dave&rose youtube ghost hunters au let’s go

“we’re technically more gen paranormal hunters,” says the caption at the bottom of the video. it’s in brackets and red comic sans. it disappears as the shaky film pans to a girl with pale hair and darkly colored clothes more suited to a trip to a quaint local bookstore and cafe, rather than standing on a dirt road next to a decrepit fence around an even more decrepit building.

“A bit of a cliche to start the season off with,” says the girl, the video zooming in on her face. she raises an eyebrow, smirking. “But the classics are the classics for a reason.”

“who doesn’t love a creepy old asylum?” says the cameraman, and the video blurs and flips around to be too-close to his face. black shades reflect the lens back onto itself, hair pale as the girl’s blustering in the sudden uptick in wind. “it’s a fucking staple in horror media, has been since the dawn of it. nothing scares the shit out of people like the remnants of their fucked up treatment of the vulnerable and neurodivergent.”

“And ghosts,” says the girl off-screen. “And demons. Though, those could be applied metaphors in this context...”

the camera flips around again to focus on the girl, as the cameraman says, “shit, rose, why not both?”

the girl- rose- smiles in the manner of someone who knows more than anyone else present, is aware of that fact, and is feeling pleasantly surprised that a peer she’s deigned with her presence has grasped even an inkling of her thoughts.

“Both,” rose agrees as a bird call shrieks in the distance and the video cuts it off abruptly. it next shows rose walking in front of the camera and cameraman, leading the way into a semi-dark hall. the walls peeling paint, the floor cracking and lifting. the heels of her chic boots click as she walks, the beam of her flashlight swaying gently.

“A distinct lack of incomprehensible warnings scrawled across the walls,” says rose, shining her light upon an old smear that’s turned brown over the years.

“yeah, kinda kills the total package deal hype of an asylum,” says the cameraman. “like, what’s the point even if you don’t get at least a few death threats or cult phrases thrown your way?”

“Perhaps it will prevail yet, Dave. There is always possibility of poltergeist, or an apparition.”

“been there, done that. maybe some specter will finally have the intangible balls to go corporeal and possess your gothic little heart, raven madison.”

“That reference is vampires, dear heart.”

“tomato potato whatever. but, uh... if they don’t like your hentai octopi buddies...?”

“Then they may attempt to establish a connection with you.”

“haha, yeah, sure. come at me bro.”

the feed cuts again, with static this time as rose turns an amused gaze towards the cameraman. it comes back with a new person standing in the frame; sporting dark sunglasses despite the early evening and shadow filled room. he’s saying, “i swear to god, rose, if you drop my baby i’m making you buy me a whole new rig, sound sampler, mic, lens, custom bitchin’ paint job-”

“Do us all a favor and shut the fuck up, Dave,” rose says sweetly and firmly. he stops rambling, lips tugged down in a frown. rose continues, “Now, let’s get on with the part of the program subscribers click on our video thumbnails for.”

“why am i the god damn ghost nip again.”

“Because the Strider charms are irresistible to the common lingering spirit.”

dave scuffs his shoes on the filthy floor, his sigh echoing off the surrounding room. rusted bed frames litter the sides of it, rotted fabric clinging in places and showing traces of animal habitation. dave’s sunglasses glint in the glare of rose’s flashlight, hair a washed out white. “just ‘cause every ghoul from here to canada wants a piece of strider ass doesn’t mean i have to be bait every time.”

as he says that, a figure flickers into existence behind him, looming with hollow eyes and an overextended jaw. the video cuts as it lunges at him.

it comes back at a weird angle, with more red comic sans appearing on screen. “sorry for the shit footage, SOMEBODY couldn’t bother holding off exorcism foreplay.” purple text is quick to follow it, in comic sans as well. “You’re very fucking welcome for that, you enormously ungrateful asshole.”

the camera is clearly on the floor, giving view of only that and two sets of feet. rose’s boots now have scat stuck to one sole, and a handful of burrs on the back of her tights. dave’s hightops dangle suspended a foot off the ground, laces swaying as he hovers, the rest of him perfectly still in the air.

“Now, I understand it’s been very lonely here, Frederick,” says rose’s voice, “but the body you are currently residing within is already claimed for the remainder of eternity. It won’t be open for new tenants until it is well and gone to dust, I assure you.”

dave’s laces shake as his voice responds, all guttural screams far louder than he has ever spoken before.

“Now there’s no need for name calling,” rose says. “We’re two adults, having a civil conversation. The furthest ring’s heralds and doombringers and mindflayers own our family tree, so even if I wanted to give him to you, I quite literally can’t-”

dave’s voice explodes again in wordless sound, and the video is flipped and rolled. the film only steadies again after the camera has been sent skidding across the floor; now offering rose and dave’s full figures within the frame. from across the room, anyway.

dave hovers in the air, like he’s hanging by the neck and swaying gently on a noose. rose is faced away from the lens, fingers tensed into claws.

“That’s quite enough of that,” rose says snappishly, “he isn’t yours to keep,” and she grabs dave by his shirt collar to haul him downwards. she slaps her palm to his forehead and the video is dragged into darkness, extinguishing everything as its audio devolves into whispers and then speaker bursting howls. the silence that follows immediately after is chilling.

picture is then restored. it comes back inside a van, filled with travel bags, pillows, polaroid photographs tacked to the walls, precarious stacks of books and dead things in jars on top, and two disheveled individuals sitting shoulder to shoulder.

“so,” dave starts, voice gravelly, “turns out ghostly possession makes your mouth taste like death’s ass.”

“I told you so,” rose says primly. she has a bruised cheek, hair like a bird’s nest, and her black lipstick is smeared in the rightmost corner. she holds herself like a dignitary for it.

“fuck off, lalonde,” dave replies, running a hand through his even messier hair. his neck has a blooming bruise around it in the pattern of a rope, his shirt collar is torn at a shoulder seam, and black viscous stains the front downwards. “that was demonic conjuring, totally different field of freaky mindbody highjacking fuckery.”

“You’ll have to forgive him,” rose says to the camera, patting dave’s knee patronizingly, “it’s his first body-sharing experience.”

“i shared my body plenty, shared it in ten different states, i just pre-fucking-ferred sharing it consensually.”

“You, and I quote, said ‘come at me, bro’. In the presence of aggressive, tortured spirits, you might as well have writ permission in neon.”

“wow, wow. some feminist you are, victim blaming me for this. new low for you, rose.”

rose rolls her eyes. “Moving on with our review. The trip over had a decent number of well-meaning townsfolk warning us away from here, notably one who started crying halfway through. Unfortunately, I’ll have to dock points for the lackluster atmosphere of the asylum itself. It wasn’t as overtly foreboding as we’d been promised, and, again, the graffiti from its former residents failed to strike even an iota of fear into our hearts.”

“i got possessed though, which is sexy in theory but shitty in practice,” dave adds in a drawl. “kinda like communism and capitalism. got some sick air while i was at it, but i didn’t crawl on the ceiling even once. i did however get to hear the screams of the lost souls bound to the building and i think my new choker will last a few weeks at least. that’s worth a few points.”

“Agreed,” rose says amiably. “A solid 7.5 out of 10?”

dave shrugs. “about there, yeah.”

the video transitions to blank blackness, displaying with purple text “We are not professionals in any manner of speaking, but our death’s are more difficult to ensure than yours. Do not attempt this at home, do not attempt this with friends, do not attempt this if you value your mortal soul and fragile human psyche.” the message below that is in red text and reads “like subscribe and comment”

[superlative-solaire]

*[As he watches his brother flip the pancakes, a familiar scent thickening the air along with the sound of sizzling that fills the space between them, Solaire thinks back on the times in the past he has seen this exact sight. How many times has he watched Phthalo's busy back like this, a cobalt jacket clinging to slight shoulders as the usually-shorter skeleton balances on the step stool? How many times have they made easy morning conversation, or none at all, enjoying the telltale sounds of a peacefully shared home? It had been a daily routine, broken up only on occasion-- walking down the stairs with shuffling, heavy feet to be greeted with a quiet smile, and a gesture to sit and wait to be served.]

*[He'd come to accept many of his elder sibling's strange contradictions, his discrepancies. How a monster so lazy could be awake before he was; how they'd share this meal, and he'd tidy the kitchen dutifully like his room upstairs didn't look like a war zone. How he could grin so easily while he worked the batter, treating it like a pleasure rather than a chore, but would groan in dramatic agony the instant he was asked to pick up his sock.]

*[It's the little things he misses about living with someone else. Learning that everyone has their "ifs" and "buts," their moments that show a different side to their SOUL. If the world has taught him anything in 24 years, it's that there is no exception to the rule: everyone has more than one face. And it makes him feel less lonely, that way. To know more than one of someone, to have them know the many sides he has in return.]

*[When the house feels especially empty and lonesome, he even misses the bad days and faces. The days where he'd descend those steps to find the lights still off, and the kitchen empty. The days where he'd make a mess of his own trying to cobble together a decent breakfast, and knock on the door to Phthalo's room. Sometimes greeted by silence, other times a muffled acknowledgement. Leaving the meal there by the door, and finding a cleared plate when he returned home...or on the worst days, bringing it into the room and checking on his family’s well-being. It wasn't often he was allowed in the other's room, a need for privacy understood wordlessly by the two of them. Feeling useful in those times, feeling like family should-- the understanding that just by being there, physically, he could be there emotionally too. He could lend his support, and it was welcome. Appreciated, cherished even.]

*[It doesn't feel as real or as helpful to check on him over a text, or only when they get the chance to meet up like this. He knows he's a good brother, that it's not out of lack of love-- but he can't help but wish, sometimes, that they were still under the same roof each day. That he could be there the instant something goes wrong, aid with his problems, instead of merely offering support and comfort after it's already gone south. It's a present upset at the back of his mind, now that they're living separate lives...]

*[Because he's spent a lot of time worrying up close, and is learning that worrying from a distance is much more stressful. The kind of worry that doesn't feel productive.]

*[As Phthalo plates the pancakes-- bunny-eared, today, just like always-- he takes a moment to rub a hand over his sternum. As if to relieve an ache, or scratch an itch. And Solaire can feel it crawl right back into the cage of his ribs and curl up like a cat, that worry all over again.]

" ...ARE YOU FEELING ALRIGHT TODAY, BROTHER??? "

*[The question has Phthalo stilling his movements a mere split-second before his hands keep moving. When he looks to Solaire, it's from the corner of visible eye. The way his smile is pulled between two points is a tad too taught, too tight.]

* " uh...yeah. think so. "

*[The taller's brow draws inwards, corners of his mouth falling a smidge, and he leans a few inches further over the counter. Hands in his lap ball into loose fists, bare fingers bending into and away from bony palms-- finding the feeling unpleasant, and wanting to write it off as the absence of his favored red gloves. The likely half-truth, half-lie response bothers him more than he'd normally let it. Because if he was there, he'd know for sure. He'd have seen the signs and behavior before now, and could make that judgement. He'd have seen how well Phthalo has slept, or eaten; whether he's taken his medicine yet, today, and how well he's been getting around. It's taken careful observation over the years to pinpoint the warning signs...and now, he doesn't have that opportunity. Now, he's left free floating.]

" ...ARE YOU SURE??? BECAUSE YOU ARE ACTING LIKE IT IS BOTHERING YOU, AGAIN... "

*[Phthalo blinks a few times, owlishly. Stalling, perhaps, or pondering. Looking a little sheepish, a little ashamed, as he raises his phalanges to his collar bone in a telling move. Solaire recognizes the action immediately for what it is: nervous fidgeting. A bad habit that's stuck over many years as they grew.]

* " mean...'m a lil' off today, yeah. but 's no big deal, y'know. nothin' worth killin' the whole breakfast vibe over, heh heh. "

*[Sitting across from the younger of them both, sliding Solaire's plate across the table to him, Phthalo is quicker to take a bite than he should be. It saves him an instance of speaking, and he savors that.]

" ...I SEE. WELL, IF YOU SAY SO! "

*[As they eat, they maintain their usual banter back and forth. The day-plan sharing, the laughs through mouthfuls of food and the bits of pancake thrown here or there in jest. And as it goes on, Solaire fancies himself chewing slower and slower in an attempt to make it all last. Make their time together stretch across the hour, with a watchful eye masked as playful.]

*[Silence returns as breakfast comes to a close, Solaire clearing the table and Phthalo wobbling as he stands on tiptoes atop his bitty stool to take care of the dishes in their abnormally tall sink. Three times the taller offers to take that responsibility on, given he's more physically built to do it; three times he's turned down, albeit gently. When Solaire sets about his work while humming a tune, wiping down the counters, the smaller monster dares to join him-- and it is daring, given his lack of rhythm and the way he treads down an unbeaten, off-key path with a twinkle to the solitary star of his eye. He doesn't care if it sounds good, because it feels good.]

*[Solaire is almost ready to leave it lie, despite his brotherly instinct to meddle and overthink. So close to just letting the world keep spinning on its ass, come what may. But then he's gazing over just in time to see the way fingers tremble faintly as they hold the sudsy sponge, and the thin sweat cooling on a rounded skull.]

*[By the time Phthalo hops down from his veritable pedestal, drying his sore hands on the towel hung from the oven door, Solaire has stopped humming minutes ago. Instead, he seems rather focused on picking at a chip in the wood at the top of the chair, where his hands rest unsure. Without looking, he speaks in a voice that is just as tentative as the first dip of a toe into unknown waters. Like a child asking for permission, or for a treat at the store. Hopeful, but cautious.]

" WOULD YOU...COULD I CONVINCE YOU TO STAY HERE AND TAKE IT EASY, TODAY??? I AM SURE THAT YOU PROBABLY HAVE MOM STUFF TO DO STILL, BUT. YOU KNOW, FOR OLD TIMES' SAKE...??? "

*[-- And since when has Solaire done anything just for old times' sake? Just for the novelty? Phthalo isn't gullible, but he is conscious. He can hear the worry laced into the words, see it worked into the very body language his sibling exhibits. He knows that if he did go now...he'd just be worried about. A weight on the back to be carried, or extra stress to an idle mind. And that's the last thing he wants, because it'd have him worried just the same.]

* " mmh...yeah, i s'pose i really should, huh? "

*[He hadn't realized it was showing on his face, or embodying the tremor to his joints. And yet with Solaire behaving that way, it's clear now that he looks as unwell today as he's beginning to feel. The idea of lying back on that old couch with a plush blanket, and some tea, and the plethora of beanie babies that are sure to be brought down and arranged around him soothingly...it's nice. Madame seems to think so too, choosing then to walk between his legs and rubbing her soft sides against his bones as if to coax him into staying.]

*[And yet, even if it didn't sound like heaven to kick up his feet right now-- even if he did have important things to do today-- he knows he'd still stick around to rest up for at least a few hours. The way that his brother's countenance is now alight with relief, the way the worry exits through the bottoms of his feet and his shoulders bounce back up to their weightless default, is reason enough. To see that genuine smile return, that sunny show of pearly whites, is plenty.]

" REALLY??? GREAT!!! I CAN MAKE THE WHOLE LIVING ROOM A COZY LITTLE NEST, AND BRING DOWN ALL OF THE BABIES, AND TURN THE LIGHTS DOWN SO I CAN SET UP THE LAMP, AND-- "

*[Were it anyone else, Phthalo might feel guilty getting all of this attention and care. Definitely, in fact. But Solaire has said it more than once, each time taken to SOUL-- that he likes to feel like he's doing something to improve others' lives. That he likes to feel needed. That he truly does enjoy looking after this enigma of a skeleton, and getting his shot to flip the script. Today, he gets to play at being the older one. It's healing in different ways than intended, for Phthalo to be offered and accept such doting. To feel worthy of it, to feel like it isn't such a burden that he's sick. Has been sick. Might always be sick.]

*[But that's okay. Right now, it's all okay. Without meaning to, the little ex-sentry is sighing a laugh; warm, and earnest. It has Solaire pausing in his rant, his verbal checklist, and looking a bit embarrassed.]

" ...W. WHAT??? "

*[Response comes in the form of a nonchalant wave of a hand, Phthalo passing by to exit the kitchen into the living room. As he does so, a feather-light pat or two is placed against Solaire's shoulder with opposite hand-- or rather, as high up on the arm as he can reach.]

* " -- ehh, 's nothin'. "

*[But still, he's grinning like it certainly is Something. Making his way to the couch, Phthalo flops down onto it with a force that betrays the tenderness to his body. These cushions used to see so much use from him that he could barely recognize his own scent burrowed into the fabric and filling. But now they smell different, like new people, and places, and chapters in life. As he makes himself comfortable, at home, it all washes and settles over his head. That gaudy old rug that needs replacing, the sprinkle covered rock, even the lone glow-in-the-dark star still stuck to the ceiling that has likely lost its luminous qualities long ago.]

*[Some things change, but others stay the same. That's the nature of the beast, the truth of life. And maybe that isn't so awful? Maybe that's healthy. Because really...how else would it feel so nostalgic to revisit the parts of the past you hold dearest?]

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*[The clock ticks steady on the wall, a cat's tail swinging left and right beneath. A very real statement, that specific furniture. Curtains are drawn closed, the air pleasantly cool. It's a calm sea Phthalo is set adrift in, stars lit upon the ceiling and walls as the lamp projects them outward. A heavy, fluffy, feline weight rests upon a weary chest that, strangely, rises and falls in steady sync. One ladybug beanie baby tucked under a snug arm. The TV is turned down low, voices and laugh tracks naught but whispers in the afternoon haze. Nearly inaudible snores and lidded eye are proof that relaxation has led to slumber, a needed rest.Turning the doorknob to exit ever-so-quietly, Solaire takes a second look over the scene with a SOUL that feels 3 times larger beneath the protective layers than usual. Madame cracks a single eye open, looking to him for a beat before nestling in further and rumbling a soft purr. Sure, he's hours late to his piano lesson-- but when he called Undyne up to inform her he would be, she was only minimally prying.]

*[As the door closes behind him, and his scarlet boots trudge through snow and ice, he hums cheerful pieces of assorted tunes to himself-- the world is as it should be, in good sorts, and he trusts it to remain that way until the next time it comes calling on its own. After all, he's not the only one looking after his brother, anymore. Right? And you know...that's more than okay too, he thinks.]