#and at his lowest point he’d absolutely consider making a deal to turn back time and take her place

[millenianthemums]

if i only could, i’d make a deal with god

and get him to swap our places

[adonis-koo]

Moon Child • knj

↳ Summary: You had never dreamed of a day where you weren’t an Omega, beneath the boots of all your brothers and sisters. In an untimely manner your life is quickly turned upside down at the unexpected Blood Moon Alpha being your mate. With a new home you are summoned to the Kingdom of Vampires all while struggling to get to know your new mate.

↳ Genre: werewolf!AU, a pinch of angst, fluff, smut, alpha!namjoon and omega reader dynamic, soulmate au, 

↳ Word Count: 16k

↳ Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

↳ Tags: whew okay um, brief thigh riding, dom!namjoon, alpha is used as a title, rough sex, vaginal fingering, doggy style (what else were y’all expecting?), heat sex, mating, a lil degradation (he calls her a bitch a lot), namjoon likes to call her little :(, size kink, a lil possession, breeding kink, begging, multiple orgasms, namjoon’s cum makes MC go feral??, 

Last Installment

Note: aaaah this has taken me over a year to write lmfaooo but it’s so worth it! I can never make a short fic for my husband so I hope you all enjoy! 

Run. Feet aching, heart rate spiked and head pounding and yet all you could do was keep running as if your life depended on it. In fact, it did depend on it. Your whole life, your freedom- or what little you had left of it, it all depended on how fast your legs could take you. The cool seeping air that was first sight of winter made your cheeks feel chapped and throbbing, your body near numb with a chill and yet all you could do was shove the branches away from your face away.

You made it obvious, you knew it too, there was no way they couldn’t hear the way your feet crunched over the fallen dead leaves and twigs, the little cuts of your skin was the biggest no-no above all else when escaping a pack- your pack to be exact. You see wolves thrived on scent, it’s how they hunt and track, Werewolves, are no different. 

You didn’t know where you were going but you were going to get there somehow. You could hear them in the distance, they were close. Too close. But the rattling up ahead had you spooked as well. You could smell a human and.... something else. A vampire maybe? No, it was strange. Your mind was frantic and you couldn’t go back from where you came. 

Shoving through the branches you nearly yelped as you smashed into the doe eyed girl who looked just as scared as you, you could hardly register the throbbing pain of falling down before scrambling away, a whine escaping you as you heard howling in the distance, “Please…” your words weak as you glanced up to the male. 

Silver hair and magenta eyes caused him to stick out like a sore thumb in the flora of green, he was immediately at the girls side helping her up as his nose wrinkled, eyes flicking to yours before the girls as he spoke,  “Sorry darling but I don’t deal in wolf affairs.”

The girl however couldn’t help but let her lips part, glancing between you and the male before she tugged in his shirt, “Jimin…” She murmured softly, your head frantically shot up at the sound of stampeding paws pounding against the soft earth, they were closing in, “She looks like she needs help...” 

Your lips quivered and now that you were on the ground you weren’t sure you could get up any further, your legs ached and your mouth dry and parched, the male gave you a sympathetic look before glancing at the women as he frowned, “Sorry love but wolves have their own court system, nothing we can do about it. Sorry.�� He only spared you a brief word before grabbing the girl by her arms and just as you blinked they had dissolved into nothing but black dust and a leftover trail of something foul as you let out a loud whine.

“There she is! I found her!” You scrambled backwards at the sight of your packs head Beta, eyes viscous as he snarled at you. Whining you lowered your gaze as you curled up against yourself. You had one chance and you ruined it. Now what would become of you? It was like a flash, all of your pack hunters surrounding you as they gritted their teeth and snarled, tears blurring in your eyes as you curled into yourself. 

You had one chance and just like always, you ruined it.

 “Look at the pathetic bitch,” You could the two Beta girls snicker, fingers pointed in your direction as you lowered your gaze, feeling your lips begin with quiver slightly as they began laughing once more, “Her head must be empty if she thought she could outrun us. Omega, fetch us our drinks please.” She shouted, as if just to mock you further. 

Tonight was a celebration, and it wasn’t a celebration without the pack’s laughing stock. You, of course. Trying to run away was foolish, it wasn’t like an omega could survive on their own, but you were willing to risk it. Even if it meant just a taste of freedom before you died. Yet just like everything else, you failed miserably. 

The torn leather collar was just an added humiliation, a show of power and a show of just how low you were in the pack. You weren’t usually one for self pity, but you couldn’t deny the envy in your veins when you saw other omega’s in the pack. 

Omega’s were the lowest of low, they were considered dirt, but even they didn’t have it as bad as you, they continued their daily duties of watching the younger children, washing the pack’s clothes and any other domestic duties. You had all of these responsibilities as well the only difference was that they weren’t the Alpha’s favorite punching bag. 

Walking up ahead you held your tray, approaching the two Beta’s who were currently laughing at you before you gasped, feeling a jerking sensation of your body suddenly toppling over due to the Beta’s foot conveniently sticking out just as you walked up to them. 

The wooden cups toppled down spilling all over your dress before thudding to the ground making the two girls howl out laughing, “Lost your footing bitch? Awh the poor little omega is going to cry!” Your fists curled in absolute fury as your eyes blurred making them laugh further as you glared at the ground. A wad of spit hitting your cheek as the Beta girl spat at you, “Serves you right you filthy traitor. Abandoning your pack. How shameful!” 

They both cackled as they walked away, tears of anger dripping down your cheeks as your hands shook with rage as you harshly wiped the spit off your face. This was life, tormented by people all due to your rank. 

You couldn’t help it, you were born an omega. It wasn’t your fault you were born weaker than everyone else, that you couldn’t fight, that your sense of smell wasn’t as good or your sight, it wasn’t your fault you were worthless. Why did everyone's entertainment have to come at your expense? 

Sniffling slightly you rubbed the tears from your eyes as you sighed, attempting to not let the frustration get to you. It wasn’t like you could change your birth right regardless. But perhaps in time, people would simply forgot of your existence. Your dress would be stained now and the cups wouldn’t pick itself up after all, life had to go on whether you were the ass of every joke or not. 

The last thing you needed was a Beta walking by and scowling at how incompetent you were, “Miss Y/n..! Do you need help!” You glanced up at the bright pair of doe eyes, little Hueningkai stared down at you with that shy smile of his. 

You couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled on your lips as you shook your head, “Don’t worry Kai, I’m fine…” You lowered your gaze a little as you sighed, standing up as you brushed off the specks of dirt from your skirt, your gaze softening a little as you glanced down at the little five year old, “You should get back to your mother. She wouldn’t want you talking to me.” 

Hueningkai frowned, those big eyes of his dimming a little before he stomped his foot, “My mom can’t make me! You’re nice Y/n why is everybody so mean to you…!” He frowned eyes looking somewhat glossed at the blatant mistreatment of you, your heart softened a little as you kneeled down, offering the boy a small smile. 

He was too young, too innocent to understand how packs- how your pack worked. Some days you couldn’t help but wonder if the little boy’s heart would always stay this soft, or if in time, he’d become cruel like everyone else.

“This is how the pack works Kai, don’t worry about me. I can handle myself. Now run along, the Blood Moon pack will be here soon and I’m sure your mom will want you close.” He parted his lips to object before sighing, bouncing a little in his spot before he nodded. You sighed as you watched him scurry away where the crackle of the large bonfire was in the distance and the moon was high in the sky tonight. 

Patrols would be heavy tonight and despite this being a celebration you weren’t a fool to the tension in the air. Blood Moon was one of the strongest packs in the realm, not only this but they recently made an ally with the vampiric Jeon Dynasty of Arestella which was a feat in itself. This was a big step for werewolves. You ran in packs and it was rare that society accepted your kind in their towns and villages for long.

But now having Blood Moon formally recognized, not just by civilization but by the Vampires, the most respected species? It was a massive honor and everyone wanted to jump to be allies with Blood Moon in hopes of also getting an ally with the Jeon Dynasty. Including your pack. 

Blood Moon was coming here to evaluate if your pack would be worthy of becoming allies. If it were up to you, you’d tell their Alpha to not waste his time and find a more compassionate pack then your own. If you were going to rot alone in this pack forever then you might as well make everyone just as miserable. 

Your pack was strong, but not enough to take on one like Blood Moon, perhaps that’s why the guard rotation would be high tonight, in hopes of making your pack look stronger then it was in reality. Who knows, if this went bad maybe they’d just kill you all. Maybe they’d kill you and put you out of your misery. 

The flames of the bonfire exploded as you watched the crowd pile around in the distance, cheers were loud and drums banged as you picked up the cups, gently holding one in each hand as you sighed, the wood had been brittle and cracks had become apparent as they bounced against a large tree root. Standing up you intended to throw away them in the waste bin not too far away from you but you stopped in your tracks at the strong smell. No, scent.

It was like firewood and cedar mixed together, maybe even a little pine if you sniffed hard enough. Your nose wouldn’t stop twitching at such a dreamy scent, you could almost smell the twinge of ash from here. How weird. You rubbed your nose as you dumped the cups into the bin. 

No matter how hard you tried though the smell wouldn’t go away, not that you minded of course. It smelt amazing, you just couldn’t help but wonder what- or who- was causing it. Maybe...No...who were you kidding? It was said mate’s had heightened smells, to find one another, but, you surely didn’t have a mate. And even if you did...You doubt they’d ever want you. The crowd seemed to morph into an even larger state as unfamiliar wolves joined in. Blood Moon must have arrived.

“What are you doing standing around bitch? The Alpha wants you.” You sighed as you lowered your gaze, the head Beta snarled at you, grabbing your arm roughly as he yanked you along making a small whimper escape your mouth. You were dragged through the crowd as they made a path for you both as you came up to the large bonfire, everyone standing at a distance due to its immense heat that licked at the air nearby. 

You strangled another whine as you were thrown at the boots of your pack’s Alpha, shakily you sat up on your knees wrapping your arms around yourself as you refused to look up at him. You could hear him chuckle as he kneeled down grabbing your chin harshly, “This is our pack's little bitch. I’m sure she’ll keep your beta’s nice and happy, won’t you?” He growled menacingly as you lowered your gaze once more, lips quivering as you sucked in a harsh breath. 

That scent from earlier suddenly suddenly invaded your sense once more, this time even more heady than before. It was all you could smell and even tenfold. Your thighs suddenly felt weak and arousal pooled uncomfortably between your legs.

“That won’t be necessary.” A strong deep voice cut in, making all the cheers from your pack stop as a new pair of thick boots stood in front of you. A squeak leaving your lips as you were suddenly pulled to stand up, large hands wrapped around your arms and you were glancing up at the tall daunting figure of the Alpha of Blood Moon. 

A hand quickly cupped your chin as your lips began to tremble, you heard him scoff, a twitch of irritation on his face as he lifted your chin higher as if inspecting the bruises you dawned.

You were confused and scared and yet oddly aroused, being face to face with the werewolves strongest Alpha and he seemed angry. Silently furious even, what had you done to even warrant this? Breath? Your lips trembled in fear as thoughts invaded your mind frantically, you were dead, you were really dead now. 

You hadn’t even said a word- “If this is how you’ve been treating my mate, then we have no business to attend with you.” Your lips parted, openly gaping at the said alpha who just claimed….you...you were his mate…

Oh...oh my god...you were his mate! You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs at how much of a complete idiot you had been for ignoring his scent earlier yet you were frozen in place staring up at the tall figure of Blood Moon’s Alpha, Kim Namjoon. 

He was even more handsome in person then what you had heard, you had an amazing angle of his razor sharp jawline and truthfully you couldn’t help but feel somewhat intimidated and aroused all at the same time. His k-nines looked just as sharp if not even more so and his tongue was tucked into his cheek, showing a dimple yet his expressions couldn’t convey anything but annoyance.

Your pack's Alpha’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head before he sneered, a gritty smile on his lips as he forced a laugh, “This? Is your mate? Namjoon surely you’re joking. We Alpha’s don’t associate with weaklings like them, they only slow our packs down.” You couldn’t help but lower your head in shame...He was right...you didn’t deserve to have someone like Kim Namjoon, Alpha of the great Blood Moon pack be your mate. You were nothing in compared to the leaps and bounds he had made in the werewolves history. 

“Omega’s are what we need to keep our humanity, they’re the softness we need in our pack to remind us that we’re still human. Omega’s are the caretakers of the sick and the hurt, they’re the ones that remind us peace is just as much of an option as war. I couldn’t be more proud to have an Omega as my mate.” Your gaze shot up to the wolfish appearance of Namjoon, his hair had been neatly styled but there were still a few stray hairs that gave him that wolfish look.

You couldn’t help but feel somewhat timid under the hellfire gaze of your pack’s Alpha, but oddly enough, having Namjoon stand beside you made you feel oddly...safe...Warm even, as if it was radiating off his body and you felt the urge to nestle against his side. As if it were meant to be.

Your wariness however stopped you from attempting to do so. You may know who Namjoon is, but you don’t know him personally. Is this just a set up? To get you to act out before you’re cruelly punished. You haven’t said a peep yet and you certainly don’t intend too. Especially with both pack’s present and not a single soul speaking, everyone's eyes wide at the situation that has unraveled so quickly.

“I’m surprised the Jeon’s choose your pack,” He sneered, eyes darkening as he growled, “Any Omega sympathizers are usually outcasts. What makes you think you can take my Omega?” He punctuated the word carefully making your heart squeeze a little. 

“What makes you think I can’t take her?” Namjoon suddenly snarled, his voice guttural making you jump, his eyes flashing a dangerous red as he bared his k-nines, “My pack is the strongest for a reason and I’ll make a demonstration of that just as easily. But because my mate is present I’ll make you a deal. And you sure as hell better take it. You let me take my mate, and I’ll leave this pack without a slaughter. No deals are being made and you won’t be allied, but you’ll be alive so there’s that.” Namjoon gave an icy condescending smile making your pack’s Alpha twitch in irritation. 

It was silent for a moment before he bared his teeth, your pack’s Alpha hated being made a fool and right now he looked like a whole circus as he snapped, “Go! Take the bitch, we don’t need her anyways.” Namjoon’s eyes cut at his words but he said no more. Waving a hand you squeaked at the sudden appearance of another wolf, Namjoon glancing at him briefly before down at you, “Take her to the camp set up.” 

You hadn’t even said a word and just like that, your life had been completely changed. Yet ironically enough, walking with the wolf as everyone's eyes glared down at you, you wouldn’t miss this hell hole for a second. 

You were wringing your hands as you paced in the lavished tent, a rug was even thrown down and there was a desk filled with plenty of papers, a foldable cot was set down at the end of the tent. You had never been somewhere so...luxurious before. You were subjected to sleeping on the ground most days and you were considerably lucky if it was closed to the bonfire. But not only was this tent set up close to the fire, there was a bed. 

You had never slept in a bed before. Well, a cot. But it was the same thing to you. You just couldn’t stop stressing though. Were you really mated to Kim Namjoon? Was he the one you’d spend the rest of your days with? You felt unsure, you needed to get to know him. To know if this was it. 

Werewolves had derived the term Mate, it was the closest you'll ever find to a soulmate. The Moon Goddess, had a mate planned for every wolf, someone who was your perfect match. The one you were meant to spend your life with. You personally, just always assumed you’d die both young and alone. It was hard believing Namjoon….Kim Namjoon, was your mate. 

You perked up at the sound of footsteps coming from a few feet away from the tent, they were surprisingly light compared to what you expected. Turning around you were met with the tent flap opening, your lips immediately quivering as your gaze timidly dropped at the sight of Namjoon entering. 

You could hear him chuckle softly making you fidget. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do....Okay it was a dumb question, you knew what you were supposed to do. Mates would consummate and mark one another when they meet, mating was a universal thing to all creatures alike. But… you didn’t want to do that with someone you just met…

No matter how much your instincts were going crazy right now with the need to bend over his bed and present yourself in need. 

“You look scared,” Namjoon murmured softly, you jumped at his hand cupping your cheek, you hadn’t realized he was right in front of you until now, “Mmm, I won’t hurt you.” His growl was low, almost instinctive at the way his nose nudged against your hair, “I’ve been waiting to find my mate for a very long time. What’s your name?” 

His hands tenderly wrapped around your arms, his nose continuously nudging your hair as if drowning himself in your scent. You weren’t sure if his gesture was meant to be comforting, a part of you wanting to lean into his touch but the other had been bruised your whole life from touch. How were you supposed to learn to be okay with it again?

Your body naturally tensed in his grip as you murmured, “Y/n…” You didn’t want to be difficult, you didn’t want your mate to think you were stubborn and unattractive, but...You also didn’t want to give in right away...you weren’t sure you were ready too. 

Namjoon nipped against your ear making you jump, a playful smirk on his lips as he replied, “I’ll just assume you already know my name.” He decided to attempt a bolder move, nipping at your neck, this time making you whine. Except it wasn’t the good kind, you attempted to push yourself away as your gaze lowered back down.

Namjoon immediately paused, frowning as he pulled away somewhat to look at you. Your considerably smaller figure timidly glancing at the ground, as if expecting some sort of reprimanding. It was from this moment Namjoon realized this was going to take a bit more time then he had hoped. His hormones and your scent were driving him utterly insane with the need to mount you. 

But your comfort was and would always be more important to him, he wanted you to trust him, to be unafraid of giving yourself to him. While Namjoon wished being mates would magically make all this happen, he knew it wouldn’t, “Why don’t you get undressed and lay down. I’m sure you haven’t gotten a good night's rest in awhile.” 

Yet he couldn’t resist the urge to stroke a tender hand through your hair, pushing it back away from your eyes so he could properly see your face. Timidly you glanced up at him, nibbling against your lip as they parted before closing for a brief moment before you forced yourself to speak, “B-but...what….what about…” Your face felt hot as you tried to finish your sentence. 

“That can wait,” Namjoon replied promptly, offering you a gentle smile, “You’re here now, there shouldn’t be a rush. And you don’t look comfortable. Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Your lips trembled slightly, you weren’t sure what it was. Namjoon’s kind smile, those pretty dimples that showed up on his cheeks as he glanced down at you, or if it was his tender touch against your hair, as if he was calming a scared child. You didn’t know what it was but your eyes were watering before you let out a sniffle. 

“Hey, shhh! Don’t cry.” Namjoon was immediately cupping your cheeks, a frown on his face at the sight of your tears but before he could ask why you were crying you launched into his arms, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you buried into his warm chest, into the divine scent that rolled off him in waves. 

“T-thank you. Thank you so much.” You couldn’t stop thanking him in muffled sniffles, unsure of what you have ever done to deserve such an incredibly compassionate mate. You had never met an Alpha like Namjoon before. Most were cold and intimidating, but he was different. There was a reason he was the strongest. 

Rather than lock away his emotions, he weaponized them. 

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you soothingly as he pressed a tender kiss against the top of your head, “Shhh, you’re never going back there again. You’re home my little omega.” You had the biggest, most dumb looking smile on your face as you nuzzled into his chest, your cheeks burning at his nickname he had easily provided you. But for the first time in your life, it didn’t sound demeaning, it sounded endearing. 

You couldn’t get enough of Namjoon’s touch, it wasn’t even sexual. No matter how much your body thought it’d be better if it was. Just his touch was healing, it made you want more and more of it. You kept nudging him every time he’d take his hand off of you, wanting to be continuously petted. 

You might not have consummated with your mate, but you did spend the night tenderly in one another’s embrace, Namjoon showering you in the touch you were starved of your whole life. You never thought you were interested in physical touch until now, you wanted all of it, you wanted his hands petting your side, stroking your hair, his lips peppering your face in kisses.

You felt like a pup again when you fell asleep against his chest. Your life had changed drastically in a single night and yet you didn’t feel overwhelmed in the slightest. This was meant to be, you were sure of it.

“Looks like a storm is brewing.” You jumped at the soft sound of Namjoon’s voice, calm and steady behind you as you turned around from your spot where you had been currently watching the clouds brew and darken. You have been with Blood Moon for a little more then two weeks now. Everything was so...different.

Everyone was kind, they treated you with the utmost respect which you found yourself dumbfound at. You understood to a degree, being mates with the Alpha meant you’d….you’d be the packs Luna. There was no one to guide you on how to be a Luna and perhaps that was what had been secretly daunting you. This wouldn’t be an easy task, what if everyone judged you for making a wrong move? 

You wouldn’t become Luna of course, until you were mated to Namjoon, which you hadn’t partook in yet. But it was still lingering in the back of your head. Things between you both had been, formal at best. There was still much physical affection at night...and the occasional rutting- from the both of you before you both stopped your instinctual nature. 

“I’ve always loved the rain,” You offered a meek smile, you still had a hard time finding a way to converse with Namjoon in an informal way, he often told you at night he preferred when you spoke freely but...It just all seemed so foreign to you.

Turning back around you let the cool wind blow against your face, lifting your chin a little as you sniffed the fresh air, you could smell the crisp evergreen and the combination of rain on the horizon, “But thunderstorms always scared me as a pup. I have exceptionally good hearing so I didn’t like loud noises back then.”

Much like any other Omega you were considerably weak, but all omega’s had at least one strong sense, and yours just so happened to be hearing. But you often thought it came at a disadvantage, all you ever heard was the laughter of your brothers and sisters who looked down their noses at you. 

At least omega’s with speed had a better chance at running and those with good sight could see predators a mile away. Yet all you could do was cover your ears in hopes to drown out the noise of the world.

 “And what about now?” Namjoon asked, offering you an endearing smile as he sat down on the fallen tree that you stood behind, taking a moment to admire his beautiful mate. Turning to face him you gave a somewhat sheepish smile, lowering your gaze a little. 

It was hard some days to even look Namjoon in the eyes, he still carried the pheromones of an Alpha and it constantly reminded you that you were below him. That if you even so much as annoyed him he could easily snap your neck and there was nothing you could do about it. You felt guilty sometimes, for thinking this way. But it wasn’t as if you could help it, you had spent your whole life getting thrown around by your old pack’s alpha. 

“It doesn’t scare me as much anymore as it just hurts at times.The only thing that isn’t completely useless about me is my hearing,” You offered a weak smile as you rubbed the back of your neck, looking back out over the storm ahead, the clouds becoming darker by the second before you watched a crack of lightning strike in the distance, “It’s much more sensitive to noise then most wolves.” 

It was true, that was your one exceptionally good ability, you could nearly hear things a mile away, sometimes you picked up on interesting conversations. You had even known Blood Moon was planning to visit your pack long before anyone else found out in the regular ranks. It wasn’t a totally useless ability. But still, good hearing often came with disadvantages like loud noises that always had you whimpering and covering your ears.

“You aren’t useless.” You jumped at the way Namjoon suddenly grabbed your shoulders, turning you around to face him, his expression almost appeared like a scowl, looking somewhat angry as he continued, “You’ve been saying degrading things about yourself ever since you got here. You are my mate,” He let out a soft growl as you lowered your gaze, feeling like a pup being scowled at the moment, “Don’t mistake your softness for weakness. You aren’t useless. I won’t stand for you saying these things about yourself.” 

A loud crackle of thunder rumbled making you jolt a little, a low whine emanating from you as you rubbed your ears, “That’s easier said than done. You haven’t lived the life I have.” You tugged away from him a little as you kept your gaze lowered, pretending to not notice the look of mild hurt on his face at your rejection of his comfort, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” 

There were moments like this from time to time, moments of disconnect between you both. You couldn’t help but wonder somedays if the Moon Goddess made a mistake, if you were really meant to be with Namjoon. Especially when days like this happened. 

“Then help me understand,” You paused as Namjoon wrapped his arms around you from behind, letting his chin rest on your shoulder as he nudged your neck with his nose, “I only want the best for you Y/n.” But did he? You felt unsure of how to go forward with your budding relationship with Namjoon. Could you really open up to him? 

“I don’t know how,” You mumbled, feeling somewhat ashamed despite not knowing why. Maybe a part of you wished you did, you wanted to be with Namjoon, you really did. But the only thing stopping you was yourself. Glancing out over the dark clouds you sighed, feeling a droplet of rain splat against your cheek as you rubbed it away, “We should get back to camp to let the others know the storm is beginning. It’s going to be a long night.” 

Namjoon looked as if he had more to say but only nodded at your words, stopping for a moment before holding out a hand to you. Glancing down at it you nibbled against your lip before hesitantly letting your fingers lace in his. 

He offered you a small dimpled smile, free hand lovingly stroking through your hair before leading you back to where the pack was camped out.

You and a few of the scouts of the pack had searched for somewhere dry to stay before the storm fully hit, thunder kept rumbling from far away and the lightning was getting closer with each strike. 

Out of a pure stroke of luck you had found a large cave mass that went deep into the Northern Mountains. The rain had already started pouring down as everyone was being gathered into the mountain, Namjoon was soaking wet as he waved in the crowd of people, his eyes meeting your soaking figure as he paused, “You should go to the fire and get warm. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold pup.” 

He smiled down at your cute figure that glanced up at him, you rubbed your cheek somewhat shyly as you shook your head, you couldn’t afford to lay by a fire when so many others were being drenched in the ice cold rain, “I’m okay. We need to make sure everyone is safe first. I’m going out to check to make sure everyone is together.” Namjoon nodded in agreement, a smile still adorning his face as you pushed through the crowd as you made your way outside. 

A loud clap of thunder booming down making you jump with a whine as you covered your ears as you pressed forward through the harsh rain that dropped down like ice against your skin. It was freezing outside! Rubbing your arms you glanced around at the line of people as everyone gathered inside.

You could hear something abnormal but it was difficult to make out what it was between the rain pounding on the ground and the thunder that rumbled loudly, whining you covered your ears, feeling a headache come on as you pushed forward. Your senses were going wild, you could hear something. You knew you could. You just couldn’t figure out what. 

A loud clap of thunder roared causing you gasp, covering your ears as pain throbbed in your head, closing your eyes. You tried to tune out the noise but it only became heightened, “Help! Somebody please!” 

Your eyes snapped open as rain poured down, trying to relocate the sound before quickly following along the line of the crowd that was becoming shorter and shorter by the moment until you reached a little ways past the end, “Help! Please! Help!” You found an older wolf, a mother by the looks of it drenched in rain, looking frantic as you ran up to her, she grabbed your hands as she cried, “My pups! Please! She fell in the river nearby while we were waiting! My boy can’t keep her much longer!” 

You felt your heart burst- you should go get someone you can help! But…! There wasn’t enough time! “Lead the way!” You replied almost immediately. You’d just have to try your best for the sake of the young pup and the mother. She fumbled as she brought you down the steep hill, almost falling but catching yourself as your eyes caught the dimmed vision of a young boy crying out, “Mom! Mom! I can’t hold on any longer!” 

Not having the strength to keep up his little sister just as you were in reach of the crying girl his hand slipped, the heavy stream of water coursing causing her to immediately be washed away by the streams current. You could hear both the boy and mother scream before you did the stupidest thing in your life. 

Diving into the water coughed as your vision blurred with water and ran mixed, the water was ice cold and caused your teeth to immediately clack as you were rushed along, the little girl calling out with cries as her head bobbed up and down in the water.

“Hold on!” You called out coughing up water as you grabbed onto the log that was lodged in the river that the little girl managed to grab. Grabbing onto it you spat the river water that entered your mouth once more before managing to get closer to the little girl, her arms around your neck and you could hear her pitiful sobs as you held her. 

Your body was trembling and the whiplash of rain and the strong current was making your muscles weak as you tried to keep steady against the log, water continuously lashed against your face and rain in your eyes as you slowly but steadily used the log to guide you back to the land. Your muscles were ready to give out, not used to being used so much as you crawled onto the cold muddy ground. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” The mother was the first to run over immediately crying out over the loud rain, grabbing her sobbing daughter as she hugged her close, “We own you so much Luna! Thank you! Oh..! Luna?” You couldn’t muster a word, your body trembling and your vision spotting before everything went dark. 

…

Whining a little your head felt fuzzy and your muscles ached with every little movement. It took a moment before you forced your eyes open meeting the dark ceiling above, a few stalagmites hanging above you as brief confusion washed over your figure. Your body trembled a little as you heard a tongue clack, “You should be closer to the fire.” 

You groaned a little as you rubbed your head, your vision a little bleared as you rubbed your eyes before glancing up to the familiar voice of Namjoon who had just finished placing a fresh piece of firewood onto the small little fire that wasn’t too far from you, “C’mere my little omega.” He scooped you up effortlessly making you whine. 

You didn’t have any energy to objection though as Namjoon sat down, his back against the cave wall and now closer to the fire where your body was trembling as much, “You’re soaked to the bone,” He tutted, letting a hand press against your forehead before sighing, “You should’ve got someone to help you Y/n. You could’ve been killed diving into that water on your own.” 

You trembled once more, shifting a little in Namjoon’s grip before nudging your nose against his neck, the overwhelming scent of cedar and firewood relaxing your senses as you buried against your mate, “If I had gone to go get help that girl would’ve died.” You mumbled in weak objection against his neck, closing your eyes tiredly as you felt Namjoon’s hand begin to tenderly stroke through your hair, “Besides, I’m alive still, aren’t I?” 

You smiled weakly as you glanced up at Namjoon, he didn’t return the sentiment though, his eyes were a deep mahogany brown, piercing your gaze with his own and the fire reflecting and exaggerated his high cheekbones that much more.

“That doesn’t mean you will be in the future,” He growled, this time in a more stern voice causing your lips to quiver as they dropped, “Take somebody with you next time. I…” He sighed, his expression relaxing once more as he buried into your hair, “I couldn’t live with myself if you died and I just- I just let you. You’re my mate, I’m supposed to take care of you.” 

You frowned at his words, feeling somewhat conflicted. You had dreamt your whole life of being taken care of, of wanting someone to care, to comfort and coddle your every step. But...You didn’t have that sentiment growing up, and now actually having it…”But I’m okay. Namjoon,” You pulled away a little, your hair still damp and clinging to your face as you pushed it away, “I can take care of myself. I’ve had too my whole life.” 

You lowered your gaze a little as you tugged on a strand of your hair, “I...I know...that I’ve been a bit distant. And that we should already be mated by now. And I know that I haven’t been the easiest to get to know but, I just...I just need time, to get to know you, to become comfortable with the pack...I’ve been on my own for so long, it’s overwhelming in ways that it shouldn’t be.” 

You felt insecure about how you felt, truthfully. You should be grateful, you should be happy that you’ve somehow, against all odds, found your mate. That you should let him mate with you and get a move on with your new life. But it was difficult, in ways you felt like it shouldn’t be but it was hard getting used to such friendly smiles, to having your mate tenderly take care of you. Being called Luna, was rather overwhelming. 

“Y/n,” Namjoon sighed, his forehead resting on yours as his thumb rubbed against your cheek bone, “I’ve already told you we don’t have to be in a hurry. You can take as much time as you want to get used to the pack and we can take our time getting to know one another. I’ll be just as dedicated to you now as I will when we mate.” he nipped playfully at your neck making a smile tug on your lips, “But I will always be protective of you. That’s my instinctive nature.” 

You sighed in understanding, no matter how it made you feel, Namjoon was right. Mates were always protective, Alpha mates in particular, some more so than others. Even if Namjoon didn’t display it as often as others it was still there. 

You closed your eyes as you curled up against him, letting his fingers continue to untangle your hair in little strokes, a few pecks against your head here and there, “Have you been told why we’re here at the Northern Mountains?” You perked up a little with a yawn as you glanced up at Namjoon in confusion, a smile on his face as he brushed the hair away from your face, “We’re visiting Arestella, to see the Royal family. The Prince summoned us not long ago” 

Your lips parted a little as you tilted your head, “The Jeon Dynasty?” They were considered one of the kindest Dynasties to rule over Arestella for centuries- that was of course if you ignored the current king who outlawed magick and had sentenced the Witch Hunt to begin. But that was nearly fifty years ago now. Otherwise they had a fairly peaceful rule, it wasn’t too big of a surprise to you that their Crowned Prince signed an ally treaty with Namjoon. But still, to actually be here with Namjoon and him saying you’d be going to the Kingdom of Vampires, it was all a bit surreal.

Namjoon’s smile widened as he nodded, “Yes, me and the Prince- Jungkook have some business to attend. Apparently there's been a massive stir in demonic energy. There've been a lot of rumored Demon sightings that’s caused fright among Arestella’s outer villages.” 

You frowned as you pressed your lips together, hesitating for a moment as you rubbed the back of your neck, “Demons? Are they really real?” You felt somewhat hesitant to ask. You mind going back to when you last attempted to escape your pack. Those magenta eyes and silver hair, they were almost otherworldly...and the way they just...disappeared into thin air...

Namjoon offered you a weak smile as he shrugged, “I think so, I don’t know about the Prince’s involvement with demon’s but if he believes they’re real then I’d be willing to bet they are. He has ties in all sorts of different affairs. Demonic energy doesn’t always equate demons though, sometimes it’s just been plagued by Witches for a long time.” 

You hummed in response. You could see where witches could build demonic energy- not that you necessarily believed all witches were bad. People liked to fear monger and point fingers and be done with it. But things were rarely that simple in life. You still felt bad for all the witches that died during the Witch Hunt, a dark period in time just in the passing of Magicks outlaw. 

“I guess we’ll see when we arrive.” You mumbled as you let your head rest in the crook of Namjoon’s neck, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close. 

“Soon enough my little omega.” There it was again, that giddy little smile on your face as you sighed in contentment. Life wasn’t all too bad, even in it’s less fine moments.

The journey to Arestella had been peaceful, the weather had become gradually colder with each passing day and soon frost would be covering the ground and nights would become freezing without fire. This however, wasn’t a big deal for wolves as you had been custom to this for some time. When the air was colder the pack would shift and the fur of your animal counterpart kept you warm.

The one thing you were still struggling with was all the respect everyone gave to you. You felt yourself fumbling at times due to how friendly and kind everyone was. At first, you wondered if it was just because you were mates with the Alpha. It wasn’t the first you had seen everyone give special treatment to a Luna. 

Your eyes would warily watch over the other Omega’s in the pack who all appeared happy, anytime one was struggling a Beta was practically bouncing over to assist whenever needed. Things seemed so contrary to how you lived your life. Even now in such a spacious tent where the heat of the fire licked in the air where you settled against the small cot in contentment. 

Nudging against the pillow as you sighed, Namjoon and Jackson the head Beta had been talking about taking an alternate route to Arestella over the past few days which had lead to him not joining you until later. 

Hearing the soft crunch of leaves had your head perking and you could almost feel your inner wolf’s tail thwacking harshly as you curled up, the flap of the tent opening to see Namjoon’s- happy but obviously tired expression, “Happy to see me pup?” He teased lightly as you grabbed the stiff pillow to nudge against it to hide your smile. 

You were shameless in watching him pull the billowing shirt over his head to reveal the taunt thick muscles of his back to your view, your legs pressing together as you pulled the fur blanket over your chin, “How was the meeting?” You asked as Namjoon rolled his neck before taking a seat in bed, his hand resting against your head as he softly stroked your hair. 

“Good,” He hummed before laying down facing you, a soft smile tugging on his lips as he let his fingers curl around a strand, “We received a pigeon from the Sisterhood today.” You raised your brows a little in curiosity. 

The Sisterhood? You had heard of them of course, anyone who hadn’t was obviously living under a rock, or a century old witch perhaps, Namjoon chuckled a little at your expression as his hand met with your cheek once more, “We work in accord with them much like many other packs. We share the land with them and it only makes sense.” 

“Well yes,” You replied, it certainly wasn’t unheard of for the Sisterhood and wolves to work together, even your pack had assistance given to them by the Sisterhood from time to time, “But I didn’t realize you were that chummy with one another.” You snorted as you raised a brow. 

Namjoon clacked his tongue, his thumb stroking along your cheekbone making you shuffle closer to his warm body, “You know the story of how wolves came to be, yes?” 

“...Well...I’ve heard a few different variations.” You replied with a shrug, nearly every wolf knew a tale of how your species came to be but they widely varied. Your now curious as to what this had to do with the Sisterhood’s involvement. 

Namjoon gave a knowing smile as he replied, “It’s been passed down between generations of my family that a very long time ago, when the Moon was still young she- for the first time heard a prayer. It was of a young boy who had been attacked by our counterpart, wolves,” 

Namjoon tenderly pushed the strand of hair behind you as he spoke, “The young boy was crying and he bled beyond saving. As the life force left his body and he took his last breath beneath the full moon, pitied, the Moon Goddess took mercy on him and blessed him. Her powers only reigned so far, and so she turned him into a wolf. The Moon Goddess told the boy that once his wounds would heal he would be safe to return to human. But now he must bear the dual nature of both animal and human.”  

“When the rumors began to fester, the men of the villages nearby wanted to hunt the monster,” Namjoon hummed his fingers tracing down to your jawline, “The boy’s lover however, discovered who he was and pleaded with the men of the village. When they would not listen, the girl was sent a blessing by the Moon Goddess. The Bow of Lux. It became clear to her that if they would not listen to her, she would make them listen,” 

Namjoon gave a wry smile as he continued, “When the last man perished, the girl swore her life to the Moon Goddess and would continue to protect those who lived inside the forest and those who lived outside. The Moon Goddess, pleased, allowed her to form the Sisterhood and once she passed on, they say her soul turned to stardust and became Orion’s bow.” 

You perked a little as you smiled, “Is that why the women in the Sisterhood are only allowed to be addressed by celestial names to outsiders?” You had never heard that part of the story! It sounded so…! So forlorn yet, meant to be. Divine even. Namjoon chuckled as he patted your head, “Perhaps, that’s one of many theories. Orion is the patron of the Sisterhood, the first to protect. They pray to her for strength before they go into battle. My point however,” Namjoon tutted a little, his eyes crinkling in adoration, “Is that no matter what tale is being told, the wolves and the Sisterhood go hand in hand. We protect and work with one another when needed.” 

“Then what did the Sisterhood want?” You whined a little, impatient at Namjoon’s wordiness, he tapped your neck in gentle scold as you wiggled closer to him, his arm finally wrapping around you as he curved a brow. 

Clacking his tongue he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your forehead, “Don’t be pushy pup,” You could hear the playful scold in his tone, “It was sent by one of the independent scouts; Vega. She asked that we keep our eyes out for a witch that lives in the North.” 

You frowned as you asked, “A witch? What could she want with a witch?” 

Namjoon shrugged, his fingers tracing against your hip as he replied, “I can’t say for sure. All I know is she wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I know requesting Arestella to find a witch would probably get her hanged.” 

“Are Vampires really that fickle?” You raised your brows, unable to stop the snort, you had never seen a Vampire before but you had heard about them plenty and how proud they were. You didn’t understand why the reigning king banned Magick as it was, especially when it seemed as if their society relied on it previously. 

Namjoon also scoffed out an amused laugh, “You’d be surprised. Nobody follows the rules more than the own royal court. The Mad King makes sure of it. Anyone caught using magick is either hanged or burned. Even the court is not excluded.” You shivered a little at the thought. 

“And will you keep an eye out then?” You asked, you supposed since Blood Moon was nomadic like any other pack, Arestella couldn’t hold you accountable for the laws of their lands. But it made you worried. 

Namjoon closed his eyes solemnly, “I will, I’d never turn my back on the Sisterhood. Furthermore, the Prince doesn’t know all of my affairs. If it doesn’t concern our relationship then he doesn’t need to know.” He finally pulled you against him as you squeaked a little, your nose immediately nudging against his neck as you coiled against him, “You’ve been awfully curious tonight pup.” He whispered in your ear. 

A smile tugged on your lips as you inhaled his scent slowly, you could almost vividly smell the crackle of burnt wood against his skin, the kerosene he had split earlier while helping build a fire, a whine suddenly escaping your lips as you felt heat pooling between your legs. Your face throbbing as you embarrassingly pushed against his neck to hide yourself. 

This had been happening a lot, putting off your consummation had taken a toll on your body, constantly making you become aroused when you became too close to your mate for too long. The need to be filled with him was a constant ache, as if sensing that Namjoon let out an instinctive growl, his thigh suddenly forcing its way between your legs as he whispered in your ear once more, “I can smell how wet you are little one.” 

Your face throbbed even harder as your hips began rubbing into his thigh in search of friction you needed, desperately. Namjoon and you both had agreed taking things slow was for the best….But that certainly hadn’t stopped him or you from testing the waters a little…

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you whined against, letting your hips drag against his warm thick thigh as your clit pressed gently against his skin, the pleasure nearly sent you pathetically howling against his skin, “This isn’t fair!” You whimpered, your thighs shaking and your panties becoming stickier within seconds. 

Namjoon’s laugh was deeper this time, as if amused at how frantic his little omega was, “Then take what you deserve my little pup.” He nipped against your ear as you jumped, his hands grabbing your waist as he rolled unto his back, forcing your to straddle him as your lips quivered into a pout. 

Your clit was throbbing though and seeing how inviting his thighs looked was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up, shifting to place yourself against one as you whined a little, unable to stare directly at him as your hips wiggled in need against his thigh. Pleasure swelled in your body and a muffled whine escaped you before you jumped at the sound of leaves crunching. 

Namjoon instinctively sat up as you curled against him, not a second later hearing the sound of footsteps as a voice called out, “Namjoon, I need just one more thing.” Jackson called out as you crumpled against your mate.

You felt embarrassed at letting your hormones get the best of you. Namjoon as if sensing this gently stroked a hand through your hair before pressing a kiss against your head, “Don’t look so disappointed, we can always try again later.” 

Your lips quivered into a scowl as you pouted, flopping against the bed as Namjoon chuckled before calling out, “I’ll be out in a moment.” It was just as well Jackson had interrupted when he had. Who would’ve known what that would spiral into if you had been left alone.

“You look wide eyed.” Namjoon chuckled as he watched you circle around yourself, lips gaping as you glanced around in curiosity. There were so many sights and sounds it was hard to take it all in at once, “C’mere my pup, I don’t want you getting lost.” He grabbed your hand attentively as he pulled you along. 

The journey to Arestella had taken another day and a half but you did eventually arrive and you were in near awe at the sight. You had never been in a Kingdom before, much less the grand jewel of the realm. You could smell the hefty scent of fresh baked loathes from the few humans that dared to reside in the realm of Vampires. 

Today was a beautiful day, apparently Arestella wasn’t known to be the sunniest Kingdom but today seemed to be different, the sky was a brilliant azure blue with fluffy billowing clouds to compliment it’s sky and the breeze was cool against the day’s warm air, “I’ve never been somewhere so...crowded.” You managed to say as you squeezed past a group of people, staying particularly close to Namjoon as you glanced around wide eyed. 

“There’s much excitement to see,” Namjoon chuckled, “If you think this is incredible, wait until we see the castle. That’s where we’ll be staying the next few days. Jackson will keep everyone settled in the outskirts of town meanwhile.”  

You couldn’t deny you were excited, you could see the gothic castle even from here despite it being so far away. The day was busy and everyone was bustling but if there was one thing you noticed...It was a lack of color...or thereof…What color there was seemed very organized, as if these people were all in groups. And then occasionally you’d spot a bright pop of red of some of the people you passed, “Why is everyone dressed so...dark…” You frowned as you kept close to your mate. 

“They have a very strict system here in Arestella, they use colors to keep classes separated. It’s mostly in jewelry you’ll see it. Humans must wear red in some form as it’s stated by law if they live in Arestella. Blue is often a color worn by wealthy families, a multiple array of colors can be worn by the average vampire. I’m not very familiar with how it all works though. Vampires have their own class system like us wolves have though.” Namjoon explained as he guided you through the crowd as you curiously looked around.

You felt a smile tug on your lips as you glanced around, excitedly spotting another patch of red on a young girls neck, she appeared around your age and she- unlike you- seemed used to the large crowds of people, yet oddly enough despite being surrounded by vampires she didn’t look the least scared, “How can humans live here despite knowing a vampires nature? I think we don’t give them enough credit sometimes.” You commented as you let your eyes focus ahead. 

“Most likely because humans here use sigils to keep them protected from feral vampires,” Namjoon snorted, looking somewhat amused at how fascinated you seemed by this strange new world, “They live quite peacefully. Vampires are a bit proud though, they don’t like admitting that they do need humans to survive. No matter how much they can argue that they can feast on turned vampires, they still need humans for that to happen.” 

You hummed in curiosity before laughing a little, noticing the mild annoyance in Namjoon’s tone as he glanced ahead, a hint of smile on his face when he heard you as you both walked hand in hand. Eventually you did make it up to the castle together. 

You had never seen anything like it, the way the dark brick walls towered high above your head and the wings of the castle stood large and proud. Even though the courtyard was filled with lush flowers and benches for rest, it looked like something straight out of a fairytale. You didn’t understand how guards and maids could walk by without so much as a glance at the beautiful scenery. 

Namjoon tugged you along as your lips parted, the castle doors opening upon your arrival and you were greeted by a smiling maid that curtsied to you both immediately guiding you up several flights of stairs, the corridors were long but you couldn’t help but focus on the beautiful marble flooring.

The way the original white swirled with black and greys and speckled gold with even some peacock blue highlighting. Or the doors and the Jeon’s symbol painted in silver on each door, or the way the handles reflected their polished shine against the light that flooded in rays of gold through the windows. 

You had never been somewhere so refined. All you had ever known was the wild untamed beauty of nature, mountains and thickets of evergreen and streams that clashed with marshes. Sleeping out in the woods were galaxies formed in the sky, where you could even see speckles of stardust in the sky. You didn’t realize two things could be so different, yet so beautiful in their own way. 

“Here you are Sir Kim! His royal Highness will be with you in a moment!” She curtsied once more before shutting the doors of the room. The room was spacious and wide, it appeared to be...an office of some sort? Your brows furrowed a little as you walked in, the fireplace was not lit up but there were four chairs, two on either side of a rug that was placed in front of it. 

Then there was the desk on the far end of the room next to a large window that overlooked the woods near the castle. 

On the other end of the room was an assortment of trinkets of...personal achievements maybe? You perked at the sound of footsteps padding down the hallway gently, “There’s something wrong…!” Your brows furrowed and your head tilted like a puppy at the sound of a soft feminine voice, they must’ve been at the far end of the hallway, walking closer to the door you tried to listen better. 

“Shh, worry not my love. I’ll deal with it. Right now you should be attending your lessons. I promise nothing will happen.” The other voice was deep yet soft, alluring in dulcet quiet manner, yet seemed attentive and in demand for everyone's attention, “I’ll discuss everything with Blood Moon’s leader.” 

You could hear a faint sigh, “Please Jungkook...I...I don’t know what I’d do if this turns out to be true.” You felt your face immediately burn in embarrassment. 

You just eavesdropped on the Vampiric Prince’s private conversation with his mate! 

You whirled away from the door as you fumbled to sit down next to Namjoon who looked at you curiously, “Heard something you shouldn’t have?” You scowled at his teasing words as you crossed your arms. Namjoon had been scolding you recently on your nosey habit of using your one good ability to your advantage far too often. 

The door opened quietly as your gaze immediately followed the noise. You were met with a tall man, who just like everyone else in Arestella was undoubtedly beautiful, but even then. Prince Jungkook seemed unnaturally beautiful, his dark raven hair contrasting heavily against his glossed pristine pale skin, his hair hung low on his face and one side tucked behind his ear giving him an oddly regal look. 

A smile graced his lips as he bowed while you and Namjoon stood up, “It’s good to see you again Namjoon,” His voice, confirmed the same dulcet tone you heard in the hallway before his eyes turned to look at you, they were a deep burgundy red not at all the bright red that Namjoon’s eyes usually glowed, “You must be his new mate. You have my congratulations.” 

You gave an awkward smile, feeling your face heat up at someone so beautiful staring directly into your soul as you fumbled with your fingers, a noise escaping you that made you all the more embarrassed as you hid somewhat behind your mate, “She’s a little shy,” Namjoon smiled endearingly down at you, a hand affectionately combing through your hair as you glared with a pout at the ground, “This is Y/n, my mate. You may call her Luna. She’s just here to observe today in case she needs to come in my place in the future.” 

Jungkook nodded before taking a seat across from you both as you sat down once more, “Then let’s start. We’ve been getting a heavy influx of demonic energy on the south side of Incúrsio. I’m aware you’ve had some tension with them in the past but it’s different this time. Despite the Ceremony’s passing they’re experiencing mass hysteria saying it’s the end of the world. After doing a little bit of poking…” Jungkook sighed, shutting his eyes as you sensed a vague annoyance fill him, “I found out there’s a reason why.” 

Namjoon tilted his head in observation, you had never seen his expression so quizzical before but then again you had never seen Namjoon in such an important meeting, “And that is?” 

“A...friend,” Jungkook offered a weak smile, “Has told me there’s been a bit of, descent in the underworld if you will...One of the Prince’s of Hell, in his words was: ‘Throwing a tantrum’ and to ‘not worry about it’,” Jungkook looked semi exasperated as you furrowed your brows, “But despite his words we’ve been getting reported demon sightings and if a portal to Hell has been weakened for any demon strong enough to push through the traversing barrier we’re going to have a problem. He said he’d take care of it but...I have some doubt.” Jungkook sighed. 

Namjoon frowned as he rested his chin against his head, “So what do you want Blood Moon to do about it?” 

“I want you to keep an eye out of any demonic energy, I know you’re a nomadic group and you travel all over the realm...Said friend, assumes it’s only the portal in Incúrsio but...Given the reports I’ve received from other royal officials in other Kingdoms, it doesn’t seem like it. And please, ignore the people of Incuriso should you go back to your homestead meanwhile. They’re unwell right now and cannot think straight.” Jungkook answered, his gaze looking out the window into the wilderness were the tree’s swaying with the wind delicately. 

“We’ll do what we can, but if Incúrsio tries to attack my people. I can’t make any promises Jungkook.” Namjoon hummed as he leaned back in his seat, “But I will do what I can to defuse the situation should it arise. Is that all?” 

“For now,” Jungkook replied, fixing the cuff of his sleeve before glancing back up, “But you’re staying the next few days for a reason. Please make yourselves comfortable in the palace. I expect to see you both at dinner.” You nodded as you and Namjoon stood up making your way for the door, “Luna,” 

You paused at the deep voice of Jungkook as he called out, “A word please?” You glanced at Namjoon as you frowned, he gave a small smile encouragingly, stroking your hair once before exiting the room, closing the door behind him as you timidly turned around. Something about the Vampiric Prince put you on guard, though you were positive it was simply due to just how intimidatingly attractive him and his kin were. 

You got an oddly seductive, yet dangerous energy from any vampire you had came into contact with since arriving to Arestella, Jungkook wasn’t an exception, “Please, don’t look so timid,” Jungkook offered a gentle smile as he folded his hands as if to appear non threatening, “I just wanted to speak to you for a moment. Much like my own mate, everyone has been awaiting Namjoon to find his other half. I wish you the best of luck on becoming Blood Moon’s Luna.” 

He stood up, elegantly walking up to you, eyes dark like pools of the blood yet there was nothing dangerous or malicious about them, “If you’re ever in need of a place to stay Arestella’s doors will always be open to you. My kingdom would be happy to serve Blood Moon’s Luna in any need or situation. I hope you enjoy your stay here.” 

Tugging on a strand of your hair you managed a tiny smile as you glanced up at him, “Thank you, it’s appreciated.” 

To that Jungkook offered a dazzling smile that showed off the sharp teeth of his fangs, his smile could put nearly anyone to shame as he chuckled, walking to his desk as he hummed, “You should meet my mate while you’re here. I feel like you’d both get along rather well. And she’s often lonely these days. The court,” You could see the dismay in Jungkook’s eyes as he stood in front of the large window by his desk, “They aren’t accepting of commoners like her. She doesn’t like to worry me but I can tell she struggles by herself when I’m unable to keep her company. She could use a friend to confide in.” 

You swallowed thickly as you managed a smile, nodding, “Of course! I’ll make sure to introduce myself if I get a chance.” It felt like an incredible honor to have the crowned Prince of Arestella ask if you could keep his mate company but you’d try your best. 

You just didn’t know who she was outside of the news you had heard. Despite being in isolation word eventually made its way to your pack that the Vampiric Prince had found his mate, but not only his mate, but a commoner at that. 

Many in your pack sneered at that and often laughed, someone of low ranking suddenly becoming the mate of someone powerful? Unheard of. 

You felt a vague sense of empathy, you were in the same position as the Princess at one time. Except your new pack were very accepting of you...You supposed the same could not be said for the future Princess of Arestella, you couldn’t imagine how snide the Court must’ve truly been. 

“I’ll see you later then.” Jungkook offered you one last small smile before you left his office, closing the door gently before you noticed Namjoon waiting down the hallway, his eyes set on the artwork that displayed on the walls. 

“Finished?” Namjoon hummed as he glanced over to you, a hand falling to your head to pat it as you pouted a little as you nodded, “Then come along, they prepared lunch for us. What did Jungkook want to talk to you about?” 

You tilted your head, his tone rather strange. It sounded as if he was trying to come off relaxed but there was a tense note in his delivery. But then it struck you, most werewolves were naturally jealous of their mate associating with the opposite sex, alpha’s no doubt. 

You felt a teasing smile tug on your lips as you snickered, “Nothing, he just wanted to ask if I could speak to his mate, to become friends with her. Despite having similar class systems, it seems the court is rather….Icy about her becoming one of them.” 

“That’s not too big of a surprise,” Namjoon wrapped an arm around you, keeping you snug against him as he continued, “Royal court is always filled with people who look down their noses at one another. Civilization is an odd sort but they make it work. I’m sure his mate does feel lonely. I’d hate to be a commoner entering the court. Many are wolves disguised as sheep.” 

You tilted your head in thought, that was often an analogy humans used to describe people who pretended to be innocent when they were truly guilty. You supposed you could see what he meant by his words despite feeling as though wolves really weren’t all that bad, “It’s just odd. I can’t imagine being in that position.” 

“Well the good news is that you aren’t.” Namjoon pressed a kiss against the top of your head making you smile as you wrapped your arms around his waist, nudging his arm a little, a silent ask for affection, “And we don’t have to deal with any kind of courts fickle business.” 

Namjoon immediately complied, his hands stroking your sides as you paused in your spot, preening at his pet against your skin and the way his lips peppered against your cheeks, “You look like a little pup my omega.” He whispered, a small smirk on his face as he nipped the tip of your nose, “Always whining and begging for affection, always greedy for more.” 

You stretched your neck a little at the feeling of his nose rubbing against your neck, a surprised whine escaping you at the feeling of his scent gland suddenly knocking against you, “You smell like vampire.” Namjoon growled against your ear, a whine escaping you as you tugged on his loose button up shirt, “When you should smell like me instead.” 

He nipped your ear in warning to be quiet as he rubbed his scent gland along your neck. It was in your nature to be obedient, standing completely still as you allowed Namjoon to continue to scent you. Often a gesture done right before mating or simply a display of dominance. 

“Are you wet little omega?” Namjoon growled in your ear quietly making a pathetic whimper escape you, your thighs squeezing together as you lowered your gaze in embarrassment. Of course he could smell your heady scent, “Do you like being reminded of who you belong to?” 

His voice was deep and murmured in your ear causing you to tug on his shirt as he rubbed his scent gland one last time on your neck, “Come on, let’s get lunch. I’m sure you’re starving.” Your lips parted in almost offense at the way Namjoon suddenly pulled away, obviously satisfied with his work as you now were drenched in his scent and panties dripping wet. 

“What?” Namjoon tilted his head innocently but you could see that evil glint in his eyes that enjoyed watching you squirm as you glared at him, pulling away from him with a pout as you crossed your arms, “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.” Namjoon lovingly stroked your hair as he kept his arm loose around you as you began walking once more. 

This man was going to be the absolute death of you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The flecks of concern were apparent in Namjoon’s eyes as he frowned, sitting up in bed as he was preparing to attend another meeting with the Prince and his order of knights. His hand gently resting on your head, thumb soothingly swiping over your warm skin as you nodded, yawning a little as you tried curling closer to his body. 

You looked rather pitiful truthfully, stretching your arms out to him as a verbal whine escaped you, wanting his affection once more as he smiled endearingly, “Sorry little omega,” Namjoon cooed as he brushed your hair from your eyes, “I have to attend this meeting. I’ll come back once it’s finished and then we can stay in bed for as long as you’d like.” 

Your body trembled a little, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down your forehead as you whined again, “Do you really have to go?” You mumbled, your head laying in his lap as his fingers tenderly stroked through your hair lovingly. You weren’t sure what it was but you had woken up in the middle of the night feeling hot and you had since been clinging to Namjoon. All you did know was you felt much needier than normal for affection. 

You didn’t want your mate to leave. 

“It sounds pretty important,” Namjoon leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead before frowning, “You’re burning up. I knew that cold rain was going to catch up to you.” He sighed with a tut as you offered a weak smile, letting your arms wrap around his waist as he shifted in his seat, “I’ll send a maid to make sure you’re taken care of while I’m gone. Now c’mon on little omega, I need to go before I’m late.” 

You let out a louder whine, the innate need for your alpha to be by your side running through your veins as you curled against him. You could feel sweat dripping down your collar bones as you nudged your nose against his stomach. 

Namjoon looked a little guilty as he pried your hands off him, tears welling in your eyes as you whined again curling up in bed as your body trembled once more, “Shhh, I’ll be back sweetheart. Hopefully your fever will have gone down a little by the time I do.” 

Namjoon let go of your figure as you weakly cried out, collapsing against your pillow as you whimpered unable to speak at the way your wolf was crying out in desperation for your mate to not leave you. The door closed gently as your body continuously began to tremble and with shaky hands you tied up your hair as you began shedding your clothes. 

You were so hot. Another whine escaped you as you laid down back in bed, a violent tremor sounding through your body and your muscles were beginning to lock and clench as you groaned. A few minutes later a knock gently sounded at the door before a maid appeared inside. 

She gave you a sympathetic smile, “The Alpha told me what was going on, I have some cool rags to help with the fever miss, we’ve sent a maid to get you a tonic to help cool you off.” She explained gently as she kneeled down, bless her heart as she gently placed the cool cloth over your forehead as you tried to suppress the whine from your lips. 

Your wolf was just about as pathetic as you right now, howling and crying at her mate leaving her. The rag was quickly to dry up as the maid gently patted your collarbones down as she frowned, “You feel much hotter than most with a fever, are you sure you don’t have any other ailments?”

Your lips trembled for a moment as you thought about it. Abruptly you stiffened as your thighs clenched together, the sticky feeling of arousal making another whimper force its way out of your lips, “I’-I’m okay! It’s um….It’s just a...wolf thing…” You forced a smile as you clenched your thighs together, the maid frowned not understanding your words before she sighed, “Very well, but don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.” You nodded rapidly, trying to ignore the itch to let your hands furiously get to work.

You groaned as the door shut, trying to squeeze your thighs shut as if it would make it any better. Most humans and vampires alike may have derived the word Mate from werewolves but...your nature was still a mystery to them. Your long delayed heat included.

Your body had been in survival mode for so long that your heat hadn’t come in a long time, you never expected for it to come so early. No wonder you had felt so needy for your mates attention. 

A whine escaped you once more as you flopped on your stomach, burying into the mattress before your hips immediately began rubbing into the bed in desperate need of friction, heat was suffocating you and pain was beginning to well in your lower body. 

Omegas were truly the worst off with monthly heats whereas Beta’s only experienced them every three months and once every six months for Alpha’s. Over all being an omega truly was miserable. You had forgotten all about your heat after your body kicked into survival mode causing you to miss. 

It made sense for it’s return though, you had met your mate, you not only were safe but you were taken care of and pampered. Your heat suddenly showering up was like your body telling you it was time to get pregnant. Your thighs began trembling at the idea of your mate, your alpha mounting you and filling you with his big knot. 

You buried your face into the pillow as you whined, it didn’t matter how pathetically you humped the bed it wasn’t a replacement for what you craved. What your body needed and why arousal was seeping from your tiny hole and walls that squeezed around nothing at the idea of your alpha’s cock filling you up to breed you. 

Just the idea of Namjoon’s scent was making you nearly delirious as your hips desperately rocked into the mattress once more, the strength of your heat intensifying with each moment before all you could do was tremble and whine against the bed, desperately looking for anything to help the pain. The mattress, the pillows, your fingers, anything. 

Two hours. 

That was how long Namjoon’s meeting took. Two hours before your ears perked up at the sound of the familiar footsteps, your wolf's tail was practically flying back and forth and crying out in need. Another wave of heat filtered through your body making sweat drip down your neck as you shakily sat up. The door quietly opened as Namjoon walked in, locking it behind him before he turned to face you. 

His expression turned to sympathy that had you whining and whimpering, too weak to stand up but if you could you’d already be climbing up his tall figure, “Oh my little omega,” His voice was deeper than usual, a growl vibrating in his chest causing arousal to slide down your thighs as he slowly approached, “I could smell you all the way from the staircase.” 

Your thighs felt weak at the way he stood in front of the bed looking down at you dauntingly as you fumbled against the bed, “Alpha,” You whined, lowering your gaze subserviently as you stumbled against the sheets, getting on all fours before presenting yourself for him your thighs shaky and pain coursing through you as you whimpered, “Please. Alpha it hurts.” 

“Does it hurt omega?” Namjoon’s voice was growled and dominance seeped in his tone as you flinched at the feeling of his hand resting on the swell of your ass, “Do you need your alpha to stuff you full of his knot?” You jump with a cry at his hand slamming against your ass with a sting, tears pricking at your eyes as your hips impatiently backed against him. 

A snarled growl left his lips as your cunt was met with the thick length of his cock hardened in his pants before his hands roughly grabbed your hips, “Be patient little omega,” His hands gripped your hips harshly and the smell of his scent wafting through the room was making you light headed as another drop of arousal seeped from your needy cunt, “Do you need your alpha to fill you? Do you need my pups little one? Do you need to be bred like a good little bitch?” 

It was taking every ounce of energy to not needily drag yourself against his hips as you cried out with a frustrated whine, “Please alpha! Please! I’ll be a good mommy! I’ll take care of our pups! Please.” You needed to be filled with his cum. 

Namjoon was filled with both arousal and his primal instincts running wild at the sight of you so subservient and pliable in his hands, your smell was thick and heady in the air causing a growl to escape his lips again, “Oh will you?” Namjoon growled softly, his cock throbbing his pants as his hands stroked against your soft ass, his hand dragging down before cupping you’re wet cunt as you whined.

Your toes curled as your hips began to frantically grind against his fingers, “Ah-ah! Alpha...!” Namjoon tutted, gripping your hips with his free hand as you whimpered against the sheets, your eyes filling with tears at the way your body burned and yet your mate was still teasing you, “You need to be patient little one.” Namjoon growled with a tease in his tone, his long slim fingers dragging against your wet folds as you whined, your back arching once more to try and coax him to give you what you wanted.

Instead his fingers only dragged down to meet your tender swollen clit, a cry escaping your lips as your walls clenched around nothing but air, “You’re so wet my little omega, do you need your alpha’s cock inside you,” Namjoon moaned his fingers circling and pressing against your sensitive sensitive bud as his eyes became lidded with desire watching the way you pitifully jolted and jerked to stay still for him.

Your muscles tensed before your hips began rubbing against his fingers, “What did I say?” Namjoon let out a low growl making you whine once more. His hand was not so light anymore as he struck your ass making you whimper before obediently stilling for him once more to do whatever he pleased.

His fingers dragged up your folds before you squeaked against the mattress as his finger pushing slowly into you, a second finger slid in with just as much ease due to your excessive arousal as you whimpered, “Alpha! Please! I need it! I need it please!” You begged with a sob as his fingers began jamming against your g-spot, your walls squeezing around him impossibly tight as your lips parted and your eyes snapped shut. This wasn’t at all a replacement for what you needed but it still felt amazing. You just needed more.

“You’re squeezing around me so tight little omega,” Namjoon cooed mockingly, you could practically hear the smirk on his face as his fingers began giving little thrusts as you felt drool dribbling against your chin, “How much do you need my cock bitch?” He growled, grabbing your hair as he yanked it, a gurgled cry escaped you as he pushed his fingers inside you once more. 

Your hips unable to stay still anymore immediately began fucking yourself against him as you moaned and whined, his finger pads dragging along that little spongy spot as you gurgled, “Please! Alpha!” You could hardy formulate words as tears dropped down your face pleasure was twisting in your body yet it still wasn’t enough. 

Namjoon let go of your hair to dive between your legs, his fingers dragging along your clit making you nearly cry out at the way your walls clenched around his fingers and the orgasm flooding through you. Your lips were parted and frantic cries escapes you as you rutted messily against his fingers, “Alpha!” Your cries were pathetic as the burning in your body only strengthened at the realization there wasn’t a knot filling your cunt.

Namjoon clacked his tongue at the sound of your pitiful sobs, your walls unbearably tight around his fingers and your hips attempted to back against him as he pulled them out of you, “My pretty omega,” He cooed softly, “Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fill your little cunt with my pups?”

His hands stroked against your sides as your legs violently shook while frantically nodding, “I’ll be a good mommy! Alpha please! Please! Need your knot! Please!” Your back arched harshly as you presented your cunt for him, desperately hoping he’d give you what your body was crying for.

Your head was becoming foggy and the need for something, anything to fill you with a knot became your number one need. Namjoon as if sensing you couldn’t take anymore teasing began to undone the knot of his pants, “You’ll be a good little bitch and carry my pups? You’ll let your alpha breed you like a good girl.” Namjoon let out a soft moan, his eyes closing as his cock sprung free, bobbing in the air in search for your cunt as his hands dragged against your waist, roughly petting down your sides as you whined at his praise. 

Your body tensed and swelled with excitement as you squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling of his thick bulbous tip dragging along your wet slit as another deep growl left him, “Be a good girl and stay still.” You were whining against the sheets as his bulbous tip pushed inside you, the pain hardly even there as your heat had caused you to become dripping. Unlike humans you were made to be pounded into. 

“Alpha! Alpha please!” You whined, your eyes shut tightly as you strangled a mewl while keeping your body obediently still. You could hear a low growled moan from Namjoon as he pushed his cock further inside you, your cunt eagerly letting him slide in further.

“Mmm so tight,” He leaned down as he growled against your ear making you squeak as your walls tightened around him, “My little omega likes presenting her cunt doesn’t she? Does she like to be fucked hard and knotted?” You didn’t get the chance to answer before Namjoon’s hips were slamming into you, his cock fixing the ache of your cunt as you moaned embarrassingly loud as your face pressed against the mattress.

Pleasure was immediate as you cried out, moans escaping you as your walls needily clenched around his cock, “Alpha!” You whined before squealing against the mattress at the feeling of his long fingers pressing into your tender swollen clit. You whimpered as pleasure welled hotly inside you, your body needy for him after denying your consummation for so long. Your body was being lurched with every powerful thrust of Namjoon as he growled, “That’s it omega, milk your Alpha’s cock, mmm that’s it. You want your alpha’s knot don’t you?” 

“Yes please! Please! I’ll be a good girl.” You whined not having the energy to do anything but stay obediently in place as his massive cock continued splitting your cunt with every thrust, just feeling his thick length was causing your head to spin and your pleasure spiking as you mewled, “Alpha y-your so big…! Alpha please.” 

Your hips kept trying to buck into him causing a low snarl to escape him, Namjoon sounded nearly primal compared to his gentle level headed manners, hand large hands tightly gripping your hips and forcing them still as you whined in impatience your body craved his knot badly but you had heard Alpha’s don’t knot as quick as Beta’s.

“Be patience bitch.” Namjoon growled, his hands would certainly leave bruises later as his hips slammed into you to sate your needy cunt, he growled in pleasure at feeling your tiny walls trap his throbbing cock, “Gonna have my pups, fill your cunt up until your tummy is filled with my pups.” You whined as your body jolted, walls clenching harshly at his cock roughly sliding in and out of you, your heat craving his knot as your thighs trembled in anticipation.

“Please alpha! Please! I’ll be a good mommy.” You whined and whimpered, your back aching from it’s uncomfortable arch but your ass perking, wanting the perfect angle for his knot. Namjoon’s fingers roughly rubbed into your clit only making your walls that much tighter as his hips snapped harshly into yours, his chest pressing into your back as he growled into your ear, “That’s right little omega you’re going to have my pups. Mine.” 

Your thighs were beginning to tremble at the feeling of his base swelling, “You’re going to be an obedient bitch and take my knot.” He snapped, his hand tangling into your hair to yank it only to shove your face into the soft mattress as his hips rammed into you at an unnatural speed.

Your moans and cries were muffled as your walls began to rapidly convulse, the feeling of his thick fat cock ramming into your tiny walls, his fingers rubbing roughly into your clit. His rough manhandling. You were like a howling pup when your orgasm snapped in your body, whines and whimpers escaping you as Namjoon growled, his scent was overwhelming and he leaned down snapping his hips as he continued rutting into you, his fangs dragging over your neck before he sunk them deep into your neck. 

A loud whimper escaped you, your cunt clenching around him harder as all of your sense overwhelmed you, you couldn’t smell anything but firewood and cedar, his cock only making your orgasm that much better as he dragged it past your g-spot with each stroke as he marked you.

The base of his cock was swelling rapidly and dominant pheromones were rolling off his body as he growled and snapped at your obedience, still riding the high of your orgasm as your body was jolted and tossled by his hips which were roughly smacking against yours before you heard a choked moan escape him. Letting his cock fully rest in you as you muffled a whine against the mattress.

Tears stung your eyes at the feeling of his knot, it was massive and plugged up your small hole as you felt the first burst of hot cum stream from his cock, nobody ever told you that your hormones were running so crazy that you’d cum just from him cumming. But here you were letting out the most embarrassing cries and squeals in pleasure and it was like your orgasm was tenfold at being filled up by your Alpha. 

Spit was dripping into the bed as you let out the lewdest moans, your hips grinding against his cock that was completely stuck inside you, a snappy growl escaped Namjoon as he released your neck from his mouth, his cock hyper sensitive yet your needy grinding earned the second spurt of cum from his knot , “Stop that you needy little bitch.” Namjoon snarled in command, your walls split open by his massive cock yet they were still so tight around him. His cum was like euphoria for you. Making your head spin and your body nearly black out in pleasure as your hips kept trying to grind against him for more.

Namjoon snapped again as he grabbed your hips making you cry out with a whine, walls needily clenching around around him earning a third load of his seed as you moaned pathetically, your knees trembling but your body was begging for more. Taking pity on your trembling desperate figure Namjoon let his fingers return to your clit nearly making you scream as you whine against the sheets, “That’s right little omega.” Namjoon purred against your ear, “Let them all know who you belong to.” 

You were trying your best to be still, you really were. Tears pricked at your eyes as he let his fingers circle over your swollen bud, your walls harshly clenching around him earning a low growl, “Keep milking my cock baby. You’re gonna be such a good mommy.” Namjoon nipped against your ear as you whimpered. You were in absolute bliss, being stuffed full of his knot, his fingers playing with your clit while filling you with his seed. 

Your inner wolf was howling in ecstasy. The pleasure was so much you weren’t sure when it happened but your vision began to spot before darkening altogether.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better Luna.” Your cheeks burned at the Prince’s well meaning comment as you gave a timid smile, trying not to think about just why you had gotten ‘sick’ according to the rest of the court. Namjoon’s nose nudging against your neck as you curled into your seat. Your heat would have been unbearable had it not been for your mate, but Namjoon had taken care of you the whole week and…

You couldn’t say for sure but you had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before a pregnancy was announced. You couldn’t say for sure, omega’s weren't easy to impregnate but, surely after being knotted for a week straight by an Alpha...Just the idea of little pups running around had you nearly bouncing in your seat, “Oh, thank you Your Highness, I’m feeling much better.” You nudged back against Namjoon, eliciting a small growl in your ear from him as he straightened up a little. 

A large hand stroked against your hair as Namjoon spoke up, “Thank you for letting us stay, we’ll be heading out later this evening to unite with the pack, I’m sure they’re all ready to begin our journey back to our territory.” 

Jungkook offered an easy smile as he nodded, long locks of raven hair shielding his eyes briefly with the movement as he replied, “I’m sure, wolves have always had the tendency to be nomadic in nature. I just have one request for you.” Namjoon raised his brows in curiosity as the Prince looked to his mate, a gentle encouraging smile on his lips as if trying to coax her to speak.

She withered a little, looking away in reservation as she mumbled, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jungkook’s hand squeezed against hers in confirmation as she took a breath in resignation before glancing between you both, “I’m...looking for someone...A powerful witch, they say she lives north, I don’t expect you to look for her, but if you were to stumble across one such as herself, please send her to me, directly.” 

You tilted your head in confusion before you glanced at Namjoon, witch of the north...? Was this the same witch the scout from the Sisterhood was looking for? You could see the a mixture of desperation and resignation in the Princess’s eyes as she glanced back at the table, her hands folded as Jungkook tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear with soft eyes, “Pardon my words but,” Everyone’s attention was on you as you tilted your head, didn’t Namjoon say the royal court enforced these rules more then anyone? “Isn’t witchcraft punishable by death…?” 

A tense air took over the table and it seemed your words were confirmed, while you didn’t live in any kingdom, you had known just as well as anyone else witchcraft was against nearly every kingdom's law. Jungkook bowed his head, as if in understanding of your confusion, “It is, which is why we ask you to keep this between the both of you. We’re looking for someone dear to my mate, but the only way we can possibly find closure is through magick. Please don’t go out of your way or put yourselves in danger for this.” 

Namjoon nodded in understanding though keeping what he had previously talked to you about a secret, “Of course, we’ll keep a lookout if we come across anyone with that sort of power.” 

“Thank you.” The Princess offered a small smile before letting her gaze drop back to her plate, the conversation between the Prince and Namjoon picking up once more with any last minute details of what to look out for. 

After your private dinner with the crowned Prince and future Princess you had made your way out of the palace. While you would miss the plush beds and elaborate meals you wouldn’t lie in saying you were glad to be out of the bustling city and into the open air where your new pack greeted you with open arms. 

Taking a long sniff of the fresh air you curled up against Namjoon where the big bonfire was, everyone conversed and celebrated another fruitful picking to eat well. Namjoon’s arms wrapped around you as he nudged against your neck, a smile on his lips as he hummed, “Should we tell the pack?” 

You felt a smile tug on your lips as you looked up at the man who had become your whole life, shaking your head as you let out a breathy laugh, “No, I’d rather not tell them until we know for sure.” 

Pressing a kiss into your neck Namjoon flirted, “We’ll give it two weeks.” You rolled your eyes with a smile as you leaned against him, his hands tenderly stroking your stomach as you closed your eyes. You couldn’t wait to begin the journey to a new land once again and experience everything with your mate in hand. 

[makiema]

finally finished writing about how much stormbringer enhances the skk dynamic which was at a nascent stage in Fifteen and anticipates the developments which happen later and culminate in Dead Apple where the faith they have in each other is absolutely remarkable! the fact that i said i’d do this in a few hours yesterday but it took me like 24 hrs to finish i have an attention span of a whole 2 minutes 💀

my favorite thing about stormbringer is that it actually builds up on the concepts/themes introduced in Fifteen so it's a glimpse into what has changed in dazai and dazai & dhuuya after one year of being together. As much as it's about chuuya confronting his past and his identity this is also about dazai’s development from who he was in fifteen. chuuya and rimbaud both left their marks on dazai and in Stormbringer we see him, actually trying to emulate or follow in a sense a way of life, that chuuya and rimbaud represented. Stormbringer is not just about chuuya, abt his test of humanity, or he coming in terms with who or what he is. it's about dazai too. it's about dazai developing or at least attempting to develop what he calls “boyish”/ “ordinary” in Fifteen. its not about chuya having an identity crisis. in fact what we understand from Code 04's last section is that chuuya never considered it as his crisis and neither did dazai. so to dazai “saving chuuya is important, human or not doesn't matter” and when dazai gives chuuya time to think abt what the operation will cost him chuuya doesnt so much as flinch form his purpose. This goes on to show unlike verlaine he doesnt care about memory and certainly doesnt consider it as the only determinant of someone being human. He cares more abt yokohama and his friends and in that, in caring abt his “family”, he is just as human as the next person. whether he’s factually human or not comes secondary to his desire to save people. This is a message that the quality of being human has more to do with embodying human qualities or humanity than having memories and lineage. so yeah stormbringer is essentially about embracing humanity but this happens on 2 levels: both chuuya and dazai embrace humanity. Going back to the boyish or ordinary bit, im talking abt this segment:

here dazai is shocked because he assumed everyone “gangsta” and everyone crazy powerful delighted in homicide, in deliberately indulging in the macabre. but he is proved wrong. He logically concluded that anyone with power more than average and belonging to the underground would kill people and delight in that because it’s a given they lack any kind of moral understanding. To that end, they’d be exalted at the prospect of relentlessly shooting a dead body, mutilating it and dishonoring it. The mafia code (any general mafia code) works in a way where honor and death goes hand in hand. So only the lowest of the low would do that to a dying person, who even when faced with certain death is loyal to his own organisation. This really shows that even within the mafia dazai is the only person whos like the devil incarnate. So yeah dazai at this sate far lower than even a mafia member. But chuuya who actually embodiess the mafia code and is incredibly loyal to his organisation and “family” [ putting family in quotes bc he himself calls his friends family 🥺] ofc kicks the gun away. From dazai’s pov chuuya being as insanely powerful as he is should also do the same. But chuuya comes along and suggests that even enemies should be shown respect where it’s due. And that is what an ordinary person, oblivious to mafia life (mafia life as in waht dazai makes of it) thinks. So in undermining the binary between “ordinary” and “mafia” chuuya proves that being mafia doesnt necessarily mean selling your soul to the devil and giving up the last smidge of humanity. In fact by embodying qualities like compassion and kindness and mutual respect, you can make the mafia a better place for yourself and for the other members. Now in Stormbringer, we see how this affected dazai. here dazai is introduced as someone mercilessly killing to set up the channel. 

Now to expand the channel one would need to keep doing it right? To mercilessly kill ppl and stuff but instead what he does is hand the channel over to chuuya bc he knows chuuya wouldnt handle it like him. im not suggesting that dazai miraculously becomes v good or anything with dazai the key words is “try” or “to some extent” like in Fifteen when Chuuya asks “do u wanna live” he’s like “ not to that extent”. similarly its not to say he doesnt kill people anymore. it is that he tries to lessen the number of casualties by handing over one of the most troublesome channels to chuuya who would manage it in a much more humane way. That dazai draws from his friends/at least tries to is smth we’ll see again later on when he deals with akutagawa. He talks about odasaku and ofc its baffling to him that a mafia member as powerful as him would be taking acre of orphans. and dazai says but he cant afford to be that kind and proceeds to shoot akutagswa but again does so in a calculated way such that he doesnt end up killing him ( im NOT justifying dazai’s abuse not at all im just saying that its hard to believe he coincidentally knew the exact no of bullets that aku could block. and had odasaku’s words and his way of life not been in the back of his mind he could’ve ended up killing aku) coming back to chuuya and dazai we also see him avoiding further conversation on the jewelry channel thing as he says “leave that for now”. He does a similar thing again when mori brings up the concept of double suiciding with chuuya.

 Its a HUGE thing for him to digest that him suiciding would inevitably spell the doom for chuuya. this puts an unimaginable responsibility on him. And he avoids further discussion on this. Now we know dazai is the rambly type. Even in the most dire moments he goe son with his LOONG monologues so really he is the last person who’d avoid a conversation but he deliberately does it in these 2 instances because its hard for him to grasp these things. That he can go against his nature and do a conscientious thing by handing over one of the most grisly channels to chuuya (i dont think dazai’s nature is evil. Or even if it is, its a a social construct keeping in mind the war ravaged times or its mori’s construct because he does exploit dazai to the hilt. but dazai ofc thinks of himself as non-human, devious. perfectly devilish...etc.) And also the fact that someone as suicidal as him is actually responsible for the life of someone else is really too much to take in. a whole 10 seconds pause indicates just how much he was thrown off when mori opened his eyes to the reality of things: if he dies, chuuya inexorably dies as a consequence. also i dont think the “wow” here or the next bit :

is something jokey. if it was like haha double suicide with chuuya is the worst haha wanna do it w pretty lady kind of a deal. that pause would have been unnecessary. dazai’s immediate reaction would’ve been whining and shit. the use of “froze” too implies the gravity of the situation. so ofc what is “wow” is how much meaning his life has for someone else. and for some so much....better than him. and what is unacceptable is this sad, sad truth that his life (to which he ascribes no value) would be so inextricably linked with someone else’s and hold so much meaning to them. it is like when a suicidal person at the brink of suicide understanding his life is not his own. his life and death holds consequences for ppl surrounding him. so both of these are huge things to grasp and at both these times dazai is visibly shaken up so much so that he doesnt want to do his favorite thing- ramble in a condescending tone. smth he does in so many instances. this really is a testimony to the fact that things are changing in him. the redemption process has begun. he’s no longer the kind of maniac he was before he encountered chuuya. when zuko underwent his transition in atla he was so shaken up after one (1) right decision he had a fever. i think this is true for anyone who’s trying to change. change is after all a huge thing for everyone. ofc he’ll be unsettled. so anyways this is proof that he has indeed come a long way from being someone who revelled at the prospect of meaningless bloodshed.

now coming to the concept of love he assumes he’d get sick of love and die:

and that death is the singular goal worth chasing after because it makes you feel more alive/get a fuller picture of what living entails. but here he is erring by supposing love is something that’ll bore him/have no meaning. and it cant provide him that “something” he’s looking for. at this point he hasn’t loved so he doesnt know whether he’ll be sick of it or if it'll have no impact. And yet he’s morose and regretful. this is a kind of self-imposed constraint hes putting on himself. he cancels out the v idea of love because hes convinced it isnt worth it. he hasnt even been in love okay scratch being in love that sounds romantic and i really dont mean love in a romantic sense here...its just love. in general. any form is cool. anyway so dazai is not familiar with any kind of love. He is entirely alien to the concept. he doesnt even know what a friend/partner is so he doesnt know what love is. this is cleared out here when rimbaud confesses he did everything for paul and dazai is unconvinced:

chuuya ofc admonishes him and shuts him up for good, he says dazai has no right lookind down upon smth he doesnt understand. he doesnt understand friendship, love. or loyalty. or how important those feelings are at this point. now this situation is turned on its head in stormbringer. but before we go into that let’s look at the message rimbaud had for both of them. ik he specifically asks for chuuya to “live” but there’s purpose behind including both of them in the frame. it’s a message they should both take to heart. and at the end of it its implied both are changed after hearing it:

and in this message the first bit is for chuuya. what he says is basically memory doesn’t make u human... ”you are you” just a frame or not doesnt matter. and even if hes just a frame, he is still beautiful. beauty actually is a v important concept in literature starting right from Plato to Shakespeare. i’d not bring this here but because bsd is so deeply rooted in literature i feel like the reference to beauty, and later on to soul and even warmth and also the universal tone of this message carries some meaning. so the thing is  both Plato and Shakespeare were endorsed the idea of love as a force awakened in the world by beauty which then leads the soul to perfection. so humans and by extension, all life are beautiful frames that can inspire love. this concept is also there in Romantic poetry like Keats and Wordsworth all of them talked about loving beauty in nature and how that can elevate the body mind and soul. so essentially in telling this to chuuya what ehe basically means is that chuuya just by being him, by being a beautiful framework can inspire love and warmth in others and thats a great purpose! how much chuuya understands of this purpose with his one (1) braincell and his low self esteem is questionable but he gets some sense of belonging. now this is a two way relationship so ofc dazai has to be factored in. he comes in the next part: 

these are from 2 different translation so the disparity im sorry ;-; but anyway,  this last part abt the world being a cold place. then paul. then “warmth” is a message to dazai who’s been introduced to us as cold-hearted and having like no bearings of a human being. this is the reason why its important for both o f them to be there. now going back to chuuya being a beautiful framework, the framework can be beautiful in so far as its beauty is appreciate by someone and inspires warmth and love in someone. this again is the whole beauty/beholder nature/the romantic concept that is there in shakespeare and in Romantic poetry where both are a part of a codependent relationship. so what rimbaud implies here is that dazai can have that kind of a relationship with another person (chuuya) just like rimbaud had with paul which makes him warm and the world doesnt feel cold anymore. rimbaud has no regrets about what he did because. so the idea is that dazai and chuuya can share the same dynamic. also after this, the narrative says that their hearts are now changed and wont return to what they were before....and even their souls are refined in a way. but in Fifteen we dont have a concrete proof of how this happened bc the novel ends at this point. Instead, Stormbringer shows exactly how deep the impact of those words is: 

this is the third instance of dazai showing hesitation and once again this has to do with chuuya. the seed of the dynamic that rimbaud was talking about  is already germinating in him. his reactions, his fidgeting, his hesitancy, in response to chuuya’s situation is such a big contrast to his cocksure self when he’s conversing with adam and verlaine. after this of course we have: 

not only does he clearly express his concern but he gives chuuya 2 whole mins to make a decision and based on that he’s prepared to overturn the operation. the success rate of an alternative plan will ofc be lesser than the og one but that doesnt faze dazai. he’s ready to turn the tide for chuuya’s sake and if this is not development idk what is. just a year ago, he was someone to whom the concept of rimbaud going thru all that trouble for his friend was a lost concept. ironically enough, now he finds himself doing something that is along the same lines. he puts chuuya above his mission. to him, chuuya is more important than getting a satisfactory result. another bit that i wanna talk abt is that one controversial section where dazai says he’ll save chuuya, human or not, and then the justification is: 

i think a lot of people got mad bc of this and honestly at first glance i was peeved too. as a chuuya stan some of the shit dazai has done so far did rub me the wrong way. i love skk obv but still those were moments that kind of left a bad taste in the mouth. i’ll discuss them later on bc stormbringer helps allay that feeling. coming back to the “i wanna see chuuya suffer” part firstly context is important. ofc someone like dazai cant be expected to be upfront about his feelings with ppl (or AI) he barely knows. so what be relays to adam, is only partly true and its actually a kind of a twist in concept. the things is, and this is  smth dazai knows all too well is that ppl suffer simply on account of being human. human suffering is brought on because humans, by virtue of being humans, feel. so when he says he’s willing to acknowledge chuuya as human despite what N and Verlaine said he’s already admitting that chuuya suffers. so there is really nothing “new” to see for him. he knows chuuya suffers already and he does too because they’re both humans trying to make it thru their messed up lives. also chuuya “ceasing to be human” is a p huge concern for him bc he himself is like that. just like with the suicide thing, it bothers dazai when someone else shares his situation/his fate like as long as his life is his own, he has no problem ending it whenever but the situation is complicated when someone else’s life span is determined by that decision. and similarly, as long as he is “no longer human” its not that much of an issue because he’s like resigned to a doomed fate but someone like chuuya ceasing to be human or worse yet never getting to know if hes human or not are pressing matters. so anyways what he actually means here is that in saving chuuya, he saves someone who suffers just like he does and in their case, even the cause of suffering boils down to a shared psychological conflict: what essentially constitutes being human and if im human or not. now this sharing of pain and suffering is the foundation of forming a connection with someone, which makes life a little better. here again, what rimaud imparted to dazai and chuuya is driven home. also dazai’s key anxiety is not finding meaning/anything. this “anything” can be assumed to be something that justifies life. so all his anxiety and frustration stems from the fact that there really is no discernible meaning to be found in the mechanism of life. so it is an empty pursuit because it is true that nothing can explain why feelings of pain and suffering are exponentially heavier than feelings of happiness or why after getting to experience one (1) free day we’re back to square one where life is grueling. these are questions that really dont have an answer so every time dazai like gazes into the abyss and says he didnt  find anything, he is not so much asking if he’ll ever find anything as swallowing the hard truth that there is nothing to be found, no singular entity exists that can magically justify everything. again drawing upon literature or philosophy more specifically, there’s a concept called Absurdism which says the only philosophical truth so to say is this that life is absurd and looking for meaning is futile. instead what we can do is accept that it is absurd and deal with it in the best way possible, by finding little sources and moments of happiness, and strewing them together so we feel somewhat content. even if it is just for a fleeting second. and this happiness/contentment amidst a wretched life (altho temporal) can be found in friendship, in sharing, and even in having fun with people you’re comfortable with! this is actually why dazai wants to save chuuya and now it may seem like im interpreting his words through the shipping lens but thats not so and it can be corroborated by looking into dazai’s words to odasaku. after chuuya, dazai’s next attempt at friendship was odasaku who he found “interesting”. now when odasaku sort of like threw hands and chose death over having to live a life without the orphans, dazai tried to stop him not by saying stuff like life is good. and things will def change for the better. but instead he admits that living is hard and the sense of void is ubiquitous and yet he doesnt want him to  up and die because then he would be sad. because the little comfort that he got from odasaku and something he probably assumed odasaku also got from him would be gone. [how much odasaku considered dazai a source of comfort remains unclear. in fact the reason odasaku gave up and died was because he did not have this. this feeling of sharing in someone else’s suffering and seeking comfort in friends in the real world. instead he was too vested in his ideal world. his over reliance on an entirely idealistic concept is actually what pushed him over the edge. and this would have been the case for dazai too had he not encountered and sought comfort and companionship in chuuya and eventually in odasaku ] so this again goes on to show how rimbaud’s words changed dazai’s heart. and in a way dazai really has been doing this unconsciously form the v beginning like by teasing chuuya continually in Fifteen. you dont expect someone as cold as him to indulge in friendly bickering and taunting so often but he does. that there is significance and even happiness in that is something he learns over time, after rimbaud’s words to him. although these things seem futile on the surface they give a moment’s respite. so although chuuya spinning dazai on a rope in stormbringer might seem weird to everyone, they still serve a purpose:  

what shirase puts forward is particularly relevant here because neither dazai nor chuuya is fully aware of the extent of their feelings (or even what those feelings are like they dont know what label to put. so typical oblivious lovers) for each other or what they stand to gain just by driving each other nuts but there is something intangible but satisfying to be felt. a kind of contentment that helps him continue. one day at a time. there is no one great “thing” that can make him like wake up one day feeling like he doesnt want to die ever again. but again like i said before, the key word for dazai is “extent” so, these little things to some extent contribute to a sense of fulfilment which helps him keep death at bay. thats why he’s bent on saving chuuya bc he knows they can share in their suffering and make life better for each other. its not like he wants chuuya to suffer. chuuya will suffer nonetheless like every other human. but in suffering together there is something to be found so he doesnt want him to cease being human. 

this covers more or less the intertextuality between Stormbringer and Fifteen. i just wanna talk a bit more about a couple other moments in Stormbringer that i feel are p important because they put some things in the series in perspective and also made the dead apple moment 10x more emotional 🥺 one thing that really strikes me is the absolute fanon level of comfort that dazai and chuuya share in Strombringer. its like scenes form k-drama lol. 

so yeah this stuff. compare this with dazai’s reaction @atsushi when he drops im not saying that its not just a joke and that what im saying should be the right way to look at this contrast. its not like that at all. but what this does is give an estimate to the readers just how close and comfortable dazai feels when its chuuya. and this plus everything i rambling on abt for so long also gives us an estimate about the sincerity of dazais feelings. now 2 things always bothered me : the fact that dazai actually left chuuya and the fact that after the fight against lovecraft he actualy deserted him (this again can ofc be construed as just a humorous bit but still it did leave a bad taste in my mouth) dazai leaving the mafia is ofc something he had to do to fulfil oda’s dying wish but it still dint sit right with me that he would abandon chuuya. just like oda levaing is harder on dazai, dazai leaving is harder on chuuya. its always harder on the one left behind. so anyway, these sorts of things sometimes made me doubt dazai’s feelings but now that stormbringer clears it all up i do think there is a larger motif at work here. when mori offers dazai to come back to the mafia in s2 we see him saying that it was mori who kicked him out and that he did so because he was afraid dazai would usurp his position. so he set it up in a way that dazai would be forced to leave but on his own accord. now more than usurpation i believe what mori really did fear is that dazai had no allegiance to the mafia (which is actually true) bc he doesnt have that sense of loyalty and that to him his friends were more important than swearing allegiance to mori. (which again is true). so by getting oda killed, the message that mori seemed to be giving out was if dazai didnt leave he would do it again. and if we consider ango’s betrayal which had already transpired at that point, the one mori would next target to sort of get at dazai would inevitably be chuuya. this is only conjecture but still, i do believe this might as well be true because then it would explain why dazai didnt carry chuuya back to the base after their fight [something he was v comfortable doing in Stormbringer. in fact in the first case he carries chuuya back to the billiards bar and not to the mafia’s base so he could hear albatross’ last words 🥺] its because mori needs to know unlike dazai, chuuya is absolutely loyal to him which regrettably he is. it kinda becomes imperative therefore on part of dazai to make it seem that way to mori. that they really are at each others throats and that dazai is insignificant to chuuya. and that the mafia comes before dazai. (which is not true bc we see chuuya protecting his friend [shirase] while also staying loyal to the mafia in Stormbringer) 

mori also in his own way tries to provoke hostility b/w them like in Dead Dpple when he was all like yeah so dazai is the star and chuuya is merely bait. so it kinda makes sense if dazai left the mafia not only to like do good work but also to protect chuuya from mori. also the fact that chuuya did the same thing— left the Sheep and joined PM to protect Shirase from the mafia makes be believe that my speculation is plausible given all the parallels we find between dazai and chuuya. 

and the last bit is about the brilliant Dead Apple scene and how much added context it gets in light of Stormbringer. 

in this scene dazai first says: “you used Corruption believing in me?” and then the translation is “how beautiful” which is an okay translation but the exact thing dazai said was “nakasetekurerune” which literally is : youre gonna make me cry you know? now my knowledge of japanese is like duolingo level but i do know “nakasete” has to do with crying and “kureru” is used by the receiver to indicate he’s receiving a feeling/object from someone close. so basically chuuya trusting him is something so beautiful that it could almost move him to tears. now lets look at dazai’s intro in Stormbringer:

dazai, being dazai, ofc would be able to tell genuine trust from fealty out of fear so ofc the fact that chuuya has this kind of blind faith in him is overwhelming for him. also stormbringer really expands on the sight effects of Corruption in full detail. its so PAINFUL and to think that chuuya would jump into it right away for dazai’s sake.....no wonder he is so soft when deactivating him. and then he proceeds to flirt for a little bit with the Snow White and the kiss of life reference. but this flirting doesnt seem even a little out of place now. it doesn't feel like smth meaningless or smth that dazai is just saying as a joke. that there is absoluetly no subtext to making a statement like that. instead that kind of flirting feels like smth inspired from a deep, deep familiarity with someone who really shares his heart and soul. when he talks to chuuya abt the problem of not knowing whether he is human or not, it is a problem that is as central to him as it’s to chuuya. not feeling fully reconciled to a human identity is a problem thats fundamental to both of them. I don’t think familiarity gets any deeper than this where you share the exact same psychological problem. so its really wonderful how we can trace the skk development now: what starts out as a crush on part of dazai or not a crush exactly rather, a feeling of perplexed admiration because chuuya is breathtakingly beautiful inside out, eventually gain all these layers and develops into something meaningful where they have so much faith in each other and where they literally help each other live. knowing someone out there shares your exact issue so you’re really not alone in this is perhaps the greatest comfort in the world. also now its clear how both of them would have turned out had they not met each other and had they not taken in rimbaud’s advice. chuuya in his desire to learn about himself and frustration at not being able to do the same would have perhaps spiralled downward and ended up becoming like verlaine. he is his double here after all. and had dazai not seen chuuya up close being the wonderful person he is, he too would have probably ended up developing a god complex and becoming like fyodor. dazai is there to save chuuya literally from dying a monster and chuuya is there to remind him he too can try and mend his ways and embrace his human side. after all chuuya has so much trust him in! (despite him having questionable methods) for both of them, it starts out as an attempt to be more human, then establishing a fruitful partnership, and finally coming in terms with their feelings to some extent. for dazai, he’s comfortable enough to engage in occasional flirting at this point and for chuuya it’s playing along with dazai’s antics (well with the ones he get 💀 pretty boy has half a functional braincell) and openly showing his concern for him. so really by confirming their feelings what strombringer does is enhance the skk development in a way that Dead Apple doesnt seem like fan service anymore. the fact that dazai would casually flirt or be comfortable with chuuya landing on his crotch 💀 all that isnt as ridiculous as it first seemed because stormbringer lays the groundwork and anticipates all the intimate/flirty skk moments that have happened till now and ig will happen again soon. 

[fettsvette]

Never Worn White (Part One)

Cloud City, Bespin. Boba Fett is on the hunt for a casual fuck before he cashes in on Han Solo’s bounty. You’re a naïve virgin, saving yourself for an adolescent fantasy… and it just so happens that he’s in town. Upon encountering the object of your infatuation though, you didn’t expect he’d be so willing to help you out.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader Words: 2.1k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Loss of virginity and unprotected sex

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Boba Fett was in town.

 There had been rumblings around the city for the past several days. Something big was happening, but nobody seemed to be sure of exactly what. You’d overheard people at the Shadow Market saying there was a beautiful woman who matched the description of Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan - well, formerly of Alderaan, now - staying in the guest quarters of the Administrator’s Palace, with a motley crew of attendants that included, of all creatures, a Wookiee. There were whispers of the famous spice smuggler, Han Solo, having been sighted as well, and even quieter mumblings concerning something called a ‘Skywalker’ (whatever that meant). An Imperial Garrison had been installed earlier in the week with no sign of leaving anytime soon, and the Baron Administrator himself, Lando Calrissian, had allegedly been seen meeting with Darth Vader himself. 

  Or so your roommate claimed.

  “That big scary guy who works for the Emperor? The one with the magic powers who sounds like he breathes through a gas-processing vane?” You had asked skeptically when they’d burst into your shared flat with the news, the normally relaxed Aruzan acting infuriatingly bubbly at finally having gotten hold of the hot gossip in the neighborhood before you had.

  The very same, they insisted; and the Baron hadn’t looked too pleased to be hosting such a powerful representative of the Empire, either.

  They hadn’t seen anything themself, no - they’d heard it from one of their coworkers at Pair O’ Dice, who’d claimed their cousin’s friend’s uncle had seen them together, walking across the Apex Overlook with a squadron of armed stormtroopers trailing behind them… the amount of parties involved in this city-wide game of Comlink Operator seemed to go on and on and on. You couldn’t decipher what was true, and what was just garbled rumors and hearsay. And you couldn’t make sense why such a varied amalgamation of the galaxy’s most well-known creatures would choose to congregate at a mining colony so far away in the Outer Rim.

  There was one thing you were absolutely certain of, however.

  Boba Fett was here, in Cloud City.  

  You’d never been so sure of anything in your life. You knew it was true. 

  Because you’d seen his ship yourself.

  It had been two days ago. You hadn’t been able to sleep, even after a long night waiting tables at K’cri’s Café, and you’d decided to take a walk down by the landing platforms in the wee hours of the morning, dawn still only a pinkish-orange smudge barely visible above the thick clouds. Whatever the time of day or night, there was always some action going on there - ships arriving constantly, bringing tourists from all over the galaxy looking to try their luck at one of Cloud City’s various casinos. You enjoyed watching the multitudes of different creatures disembarking off their various means of transportation - sub-aquatic Mon Calamari, blue-hued Chiss, reptilian Trandoshans; you’d even seen some gargantuan Hutts a few months ago, with their retinues of slaves and hangers-on, making their sluggish way across the concourse towards Yarith Bespin. It sometimes seemed that this city never truly slept.

  You’d been about to finally call it a night, still not particularly tired but knowing that you should attempt to go home, draw your curtains against the burgeoning light of the sun, and get some shut-eye before your next shift the following evening, when a bizarre sound from above snapped you out of your reverie. 

  You’d heard the Slave I long before you’d seen it. 

  The ship’s engine gave out a strange whining noise, unlike anything you’d ever heard in a transport. It reminded you of a gigantic buzz-bug, and you resisted the urge to swat at the air around your ears out of habit, squinting your eyes against the hazy morning light to see what kind of damned contraption could be making such a racket. 

  The ship came into view as it banked around the clouds, beginning a slow descent towards one of the nearby docks, and you felt your heart give a walloping jolt from the shock of what you were witnessing.

  ‘No… it can’t be… not here…’

  The ship was an ugly, mottled thing - a retired Firespray model of Old Republic make, the paint faded red and greenish-grey, much of it scraped away and adorned with deep gouges and obvious carbon scoring from firefights over the years. It had seemed to glide almost effortlessly through the air as it swept towards the docks, and as the transport grew closer and its image became more clear, your eyes widened, your blood screaming in your ears, your heart threatening to jump up out of your throat and flee from your frozen form. Its strangely vertical craft had suddenly rotated horizontally in the air, hanging momentarily as if suspended by a fine thread, and sank down to settle on one of the nearby landing pads, steam from the thrusters billowing around its now motionless form.

  You knew the ship well, although you’d never actually seen it in real life. It was all over the HoloNet almost every time a huge sum of credits were posted on a well-known fugitive’s head, their eventual capture usually accompanied by footage of that very same transport leaving the scene. It was called the Slave I , and was owned by a man who wore a ragged suit of Mandalorian armor, and who made his living by hunting down and - sometimes killing - those who found themselves on the wrong end of a particularly influential creature’s business dealings.

  Rooted to the spot, trembling from excitement, you’d stood on your toes and craned your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the pilot as they exited the durasteel behemoth. When the boarding ramp had finally extended, however, you’d turned and ran back to your apartment, a wave of anxiety at possibly seeing the owner - and them seeing you - having overcome your senses. And there you’d hid for the rest of the day, pacing the floor of your living quarters and periodically peeking out the window, expecting to see the old Firespray taking off into open space from the vicinity of the dockyards across the city. But as far as you knew, it was still there. You could feel in your guts that it was.

  That was how you’d discovered that Boba Fett had come to Cloud City.

  The deadliest and most effective bounty hunter in the entire galaxy, in your town.

  And you wanted to meet him. You needed to meet him.

  It sounded almost dirty, to acknowledge that maybe you had a bit of a crush on Boba Fett. Although merely calling it a ‘crush’ was quite an understatement. 

  You were infatuated with him. 

  You’d followed his career almost obsessively since your early teenage years, when he’d first erupted onto the bounty hunting scene and began making headlines thanks to the clean, efficient work he’d make of marks who’d been unfortunate enough to cross his path. He was highly dangerous and had a nasty reputation for being a ruthless killer, focused only on bringing pain to the creatures that could earn him as many credits as possible. On top of that, he had exclusive hunting contracts with both the Empire and the Hutts, which didn’t garner much support from communities sympathetic to the Alliance to Restore the Republic, such as your own. Much of the galaxy considered bounty hunters to be the lowest of scum, on the same level as the criminals and other dregs and vestiges of the civilized universe that they were famous for capturing. It was difficult to admit that it wasn’t the gorgeous Falleen who lived down the hall that you fantasized about sweeping off your feet and charming the Corellian hells out of you, but Boba Fett. 

  You couldn’t fully explain it, even to yourself let alone your exasperated and befuddled friends, but there was just something downright sexy about him. You felt weak in the knees whenever you saw his visage broadcast on the holocaster in the café, and your ears always tingled and burned when you caught his name being mentioned in a snatch of overheard conversation. You spent hours scrolling and typing on your holopad, searching for any and all information you could discover on this enigmatic figure who wore the regalia of an ancient warrior race. You’d made it a point to haunt the local nightclubs and bars on your nights off, always seeking out information on Boba Fett’s whereabouts in the galaxy, his latest jobs, encounters that the creatures constantly flowing in and out of the local entertainment establishments may have had with him during their travels. You’d heard how good of a lay - and a generous tipper - he supposedly was from several of the go-go dancers who worked at the Zero-G Club, and the idea of Boba Fett himself getting a lap dance in a seedy topless bar always sent liquid heat pooling to your core. One of your most prized sources of intelligence concerning Boba Fett was Rystáll Sant , the half-Theelian backup singer for the Max Rebo Band, whose frequent sets at the Blue Petal Bar you never missed for this express reason. Lyn Me and Greeata Jendowanian had their own Fett stories, but Sant in particular became very talkative about her famous conquests while touring the galaxy - always after a couple spotchkas, which you were more than happy to share with her.

  Rystáll Sant was adamant that she’d had a casual physical relationship with Fett for years, and that he was, without question, the best fuck of her life. She hadn’t seen, let alone hooked up with him, in several months, no, but the band had a long-term residency at Jabba the Hutt’s palace on Tatooine coming up, and she was looking forward to finally reuniting with him there. He was one of Jabba’s favorite hired guns, after all. You always came away from your conversations with Rystáll feeling flushed and woozy, in a way that had nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol you both consumed while chatting. You’d always been too shy to grill her on any of the specifics of her dalliance with Fett, even though you knew she’d be happy to give them to you - what kind of a lover he was, if he was gentle or rough or a delicious mixture of the two, what he sounded like when he moaned, what he looked like both underneath his Mandalorian helmet and that mysteriously dented codpiece - but those unasked questions haunted you endlessly. You wanted to learn the answers yourself, somehow.

  In short, you were helplessly drawn to Boba Fett, and found everything about him to be intoxicating - from the danger associated with his chosen career, to the mystery of what dashing good looks he had to be hiding behind that black-visored helmet… and the fact that he was experienced. 

  Because you’d never been with a man before.

  Ever.

  You were a virgin in every sense of the word.

  You didn’t consider yourself a prude, or anything close - you just felt you’d never met the right person who you’d want to share that part of yourself with. Your virginity was something sacred in your eyes, something you wanted to give to someone special, not to just waste on a drunken, spiced out tryst after a night partying. Your prospective admirers on Bespin bored you to tears, and you found yourself constantly daydreaming of being whisked away off-world by a masked man in a shining suit of armor; one who would take you on exciting adventures and carry you bridal-style back to his ship afterwards for a romantic, passionate night together.

  You’d never admit it to anyone, knew you’d be laughed out of the social circles you’d managed to cultivate during your years living and working in Cloud City, but Boba Fett’s was the only name that ever came to your lips as you laid in bed, your hands between your legs, bringing yourself to climax twice, sometimes three times during one of your nightly sessions. Just the mere thought of him drove you wild in a way that no other person ever had, and you constantly fantasized about him claiming your innocence for his own, leaving you trembling and mewling underneath him.

  And now, like a bolt out of the blue, he was actually here , located in Cloud City on some unknown business, possibly entangled in whatever Imperial affairs that’d had the entire colony holding its collective breath over the previous days.

  It almost seemed as if it were meant to happen, that you were supposed to seduce and sleep with him, despite your initial panic at his unprecedented arrival. You knew how it sounded. If anyone found out about what you were planning, discovered the details of your deepest fantasy, the one thing you truly wanted above all else, they’d have you admitted to the psychiatric medcenter at Cloud City Central.

  It was true.

  You were saving yourself for Boba Fett.

  You were on a mission to fulfill that adolescent promise to yourself, consequences be damned, and you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 4: The Star Spangled Man With A Plan

Summary: As the SSR deals with the aftermath of the attempted theft of the serum by Hydra, Steve finds himself side-lined until he’s offered a golden opportunity to help fight the good fight…but it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be as he quickly finds out.  

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N:  This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.  As always, some creative liberties taken.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Star Spangled Rebirth Masterlist  //  Main Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Absolutely not!” Katie blazed her hands on her hips “That is NOT what Erskine was going to do.”

“Well Erskine isn’t here is he, in case it had escaped your notice.” Phillips bit back “And neither is the serum after the last vial of it was smashed out on Brooklyn Pier.”

Steve sighed, his head bowing a little.

“Erskine said that post the transformation, Steve was supposed to be monitored for twenty-four hours before he did any major physical activity.” Katie continued, “Given that, and what just happened, you seriously want to take his blood?”

“She has a point.” Howard stepped in. “Personally, I’m not sure it’s wise. Private Rogers should be given the rest of the day at least under observation as was the original plan, where we can run the physical tests Abe had been planning to do.”  He took a deep breath and bowed his head slightly.

“We owe it to him to do this right.” Katie spoke again, her voice loaded with emotion as she turned her eyes to the Colonel. Phillips gave a little groan, dragging his hand down his face “We can take the samples tomorrow.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve spoke, surprising himself with his sudden forthright nature and Katie glanced at him.

“No.” She said simply, turning back to Phillips. Steve’s eyebrows shot up and he turned to look at Howard who was silently chuckling at his sister’s bossy nature. He gave a little shrug of his shoulders, and then his brown eyes turned back to watch as Katie stood looking at Phillips expectantly.

“You know, I’m beginning to rue the day I ever asked you two to join this team.” The Colonel shot, and Steve watched as Katie turned to Howard, smirking. “And wipe that look off of your face right now, Agent.”

“Sir.” She nodded, and then everyone’s attention was taken by Agent Carter as she walked back into the room.

“We have it.” She nodded, “The HYDRA Sub. It’s in the Tech Lab.”

“You wanna wait until tomorrow to work on that too? Perhaps, give that time to recover as well?” Phillips looked at Howard who snorted.

“You know they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” He arched an eyebrow as he looked at Phillips, “But I prefer to think of it as a metric for potential. You’ll be a great man someday, Colonel Phillips.”

Katie’s shoulders began to shake and she turned back towards Steve who was watching the scene play out in front of him, utterly perplexed. He still couldn’t get his head round Katie’s blatant disregard for her Commanding Officer’s authority. Howard, well, he could understand that a little more as he wasn’t in the man’s chain of command but Katie was. And she seriously didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Do we have any more intel on Schmidt?” Phillips turned to Peggy who blinked and looked at him.

“No, Sir. Nothing,” she took a deep breath, “but I think after today it’s safe to say that was another thing Dr. Erskine was correct about. Schmidt clearly has ambitions beyond simply being Hitler’s Chief Scientist. I think we should consider the fact that he’s equally, if not more dangerous.”

At that Steve heard Erskine’s words from the previous night as clear and as loud as if the man were speaking them to him in person. Schmidt must become that superior man.

He cleared his throat a little and felt all eyes in the room turn to him. “I think Agent Carter is right, Sir.” Steve took a deep breath “Last night, Dr Erskine was explaining to me about Schmidt. He said that Schmidt is convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, waiting to be found...”

“So he’s bonkers.” Phillips looked at Steve. “Terrific.”

“You know, we have forces out there fighting the Nazis.” Katie pondered for a moment, “Maybe the SSR needs to concentrate on HYDRA.”

Phillips looked at Katie, “You wanna chase HYDRA?”

She shrugged, “it seems logical to me. A lunatic Schmidt might be, but he clearly has a vast amount of followers that buy into the same rhetoric. That makes them dangerous.”

“And let’s not forget, HYDRA is, or was, Hitler’s deep science department. Now, Steve stopped them from getting the vial of Erskine’s completed formula, but who knows what else they have in their grasp.” Peggy added, “I saw a lot of things when I was under, a lot of things that if perfected could be disastrous. We chose to concentrate on Hitler as he had control of HYDRA. But, if Schmidt is going rogue as we suspect, then I’m afraid Sir,that as Agent Stark suggests, he could prove to be far more dangerous.”

“Just what we need,” Howard groaned, “two enemies to be fighting.”

“Oh pur-lease.” Katie looked at him. “Like you’re doing any actual fighting.”

“Shut up.” Howard glared at her, “You know as well as I do that I was plucked out for this instead of going to the front lines, just like you were.”

“The pair of you can take your squabbles outside.” Phillips looked at them, “I’m done. I need to brief Senator Brandt.” With that he turned to Peggy. “Get onto base and tell them they need to get into the President, inform him of our intentions so that he can approve them. You,” he then looked at Howard, “take a look at that sub, see what we’re dealing with from a technology point of view. As for you,” he looked at Katie, then to Steve, then back again. “take Rogers for whatever observations it was Erskine wanted to do. Then I suggest you all get a good night’s sleep. Back here at Zero-Six Hundred.”

With that he swept from the room leaving the four of them behind. Steve turned to Katie, his arms folded.

“You know, I don’t need a load of tests to tell you I’m fine. In fact, I’m more than fine. I feel, well, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“That maybe, but I’d feel better if you went along with it, please.”

“Oh, she’s serious, Rogers,” Howard smirked, “she said the magic word.”

At that Katie turned to glare at her brother, who held her gaze, his expression not faltering in the slightest. She threw him a positively filthy look before she turned back to Steve and he looked at her as she once more began to speak. “Erskine wanted to make sure that everything was okay, monitor the effects properly at least for twenty-four hours. We have no idea if it’s permanent, what it’s actually doing to you, whether the effects and transformation is still ongoing.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve held his hand up, giving her a nod, “Fine, I’ll submit for monitoring. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Could someone please find me something to eat?” He looked around, his stomach giving a huge growl at the perfect moment to emphasise his point, “I’ve never been this hungry in my life, and believe me, I’m no stranger to living with an empty stomach.”

**** It turns out that Steve’s appetite had increased exponentially too, which was to be expected considering his metabolism was working far faster than it ever had before. He wolfed down a huge helping of Potato and Hot Dog salad, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, an assortment of vegetables and a huge helping of apple pie. He had no idea where Katie had managed to conjure it from, and frankly he didn’t care either. All he knew was that in that one sitting he’d consumed more food than he usually ate in a day.

The rest of the day was taken up with him being poked and prodded and attached to all sorts of strange machines. Howard explained what each of them was for, but he wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was whirring, finally processing what had happened in the last couple of hours. He had been so sure about what was going to happen post getting the serum, that he’d be shipped out to help in the fight and now he didn’t have a clue where he was going to go, especially if they were now going to refocus their efforts on HYDRA. That said, it was all helping the war effort wasn’t it? HYDRA was a huge threat, if he was able to help take them down in any way, shape or form, then he was ok with that.

One of the doctors and Howard started explaining to him what the serum had done and at that point he tuned in to some of it, picking out the odd phrase like ‘super strength’, ‘increased stamina’, ‘enhanced metabolism’, ‘fast healing’, ‘super-sharp senses’, ‘memory expansion’, ‘logical improvement’. Howard looked at him and explained that as far as he could see, the transformation was complete, and was as permanent as they could hope. But Erskine had said that the serum wasn’t infallible, therefore how long the effects would last into the future they didn’t know. Forty, maybe fifty years or so. Steve wasn’t particularly bothered about that though, by the time that happened he would be well into his sixties or seventies and would he really care then?

Katie arrived back just as the Doctor who had been dealing with him had instructed the nurse to remove the heart monitor form his chest.

“Hi.” She smiled and Steve turned to face her, fulling intending on greeting her back, but before he could, the Doctor made a little noise of surprise.

“What is it?” Howard asked and Steve hastily turned towards them, wondering what was wrong.

“His heart rate just spiked.”

Steve gulped and hastily looked away from Katie as Howard turned to face him. His eyes flicked from Steve, to his sister who was stood in the doorway, a bashful smile on her face but to her credit she held her brother’s gaze as the man gave a groan.

“Seriously?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, stepping into the room. “You done treating him like a guinea pig?”

“Hey, you were the one that insisted on the monitoring!” Howard pointed at her.

“Yes, because it was what Abe wanted,” she shrugged, “and I wanted to make sure everything was okay before you guys started stealing his blood like a pack of starving vampires.”

“Well you needn’t panic.” Howard arched an eyebrow. “The transformation seems to be text book. Your Super Soldier is as ready as can be.”

“Fuck you.” Katie shot back, and Howard gave a chuckle as Steve let out a little groan at the man’s teasing.

“That bad an idea huh, dating my sister?” Howard turned to Steve and he flushed immediately.

“That…no, I didn’t say that, I mean, not that we…”

“Ignore him Steve, he’s being a jerk.” Katie rolled her eyes. “And if he knows what’s good for him he’ll shut up before I knock his teeth out.”

“Threat received and understood, Kiddo.” Howard held his hands up as the Doctor bustled around and handed Steve back his t-shirt.

“You can leave now, Captain Rogers, but we would like you to stay here tonight.”

“Why?” Steve frowned as he pulled the SSR logo t-shirt over his head.

“Because I want to monitor your levels at complete rest.” The Doctor smiled. “Humour me, please.”

Steve shrugged as he swung his legs off the bed. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be.

“Your stuff is being brought over from the barracks.” Katie smiled softly. 

“Any idea on where I’ll be going after that?” Steve stood up carefully, taking his time to pull himself up to his new full height.

Katie shrugged. “I suppose it depends on what Colonel Phillips and the President agree. I suspect we’ll head over to London HQ if we’re going after HYDRA in Europe, but we should find out tomorrow morning.”

“So, we have a free evening?” Howard looked at Katie.

“Well, sort of. Unless you want to get a head start on that submarine thing.” She waved her hand at the door.

“I don’t need a head start.” Howard shrugged, somewhat arrogantly, “I’m a genius, I’ll crack it tomorrow.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “You know I really admire your modesty.”

Howard chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, what I was suggesting was that if we do have a free few hours, how about a drink? I got a bottle of vintage Macallan stashed in my lab.” He paused and Steve watched as his shoulders slumped a little and he took a deep breath before he looked back up at both Steve then to his sister. “Me and Abe had been saving it for tonight."

Katie took a deep breath before she walked over to her brother who wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, gently kissing the top of her head. Steve looked away for a second, not wanting to intrude on the moment as he watched the doctor and nurse leave the room.

“We should have a toast to him,” Katie spoke, her voice cracking a little as she stepped away from Howard. She turned to Steve and smiled, “he’d have been proud this had worked.”

Steve nodded a little side smile pulling at his mouth as he remembered the banter he and Erskine had shared about the schnapps. With a nod he looked at Katie, the smile spreading further across his face. “He owed me a drink.”

*****

It was a strange night.

The three of them had shared a glass each of the smooth whiskey, which Steve had thoroughly enjoyed. It had tasted so smooth yet crisp. And he wasn’t sure if that was down to the fact it was stupidly expensive and high end, or the fact his taste-buds simply worked better. Howard hadn’t raised the issue of him and Katie again, for which Steve was glad. If he had been asked, he couldn’t say how he would have answered because he wasn’t entirely sure what they were. A casual fling? A hook up? He knew what he wanted it to be, but once again he was brought crashing back to reality. They were in the middle of a war. It was impossible.  

Despite the myriad of thoughts and emotions running through his mind, Steve slept better than he had ever slept in his life. His chest wasn’t bad, he didn’t struggle for breath when he lay down flat meaning that for the first time he could remember he didn’t need to sleep propped up. Yet, on the other hand, he felt like he was waking up every five or ten minutes. The slightest sound or movement made by the various SSR staff nurses and guards milling around the small medical wing of the lab woke him thanks to his now enhanced, fine tuned senses. The Doctors and Howard had assured Steve that whilst it might take a while but once he was used to the heightening of his senses it would start to feel ‘normal’ to him in a way and he would learn to use them and appreciate them.

With a yawn, he cracked his head side to side as he raised it off the pillow. Whilst he didn’t know what time it was thanks to the lack of any natural light in the room, he knew that this time he wasn’t getting back to sleep. He climbed from his bed, stretched and waited for the usual pain to shoot down his back, but nothing. He then stood up, a little too fast and pitched forward before he steadied himself and drew up to his full new height, squaring his now broad shoulders back as he stood tall in his new posture. Again, Howard had told him he would soon learn to adjust his movements to compensate for the fact that he no longer needed to put as much effort into them. No sooner had he done that, a nurse appeared with his breakfast and she was followed by Agent Carter who wished him a good morning and then handed him a formal Army Uniform in his new size. With a soft smile and a thanks, he took it before laying it down on the bed, admiring the green wool and crisp shirt. 

“When you’re ready then we’d like to take the blood samples.” Peggy spoke softly, “but there’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Rather just get it over and done with Ma’am.” Steve said politely and truthfully. The sooner he was done being prodded, poked and stabbed the sooner he could find out what was going on.

With that in mind he ate, washed up, dressed and was ready in half an hour flat. He was led out of the bunk room he’d been sleeping in and down the corridor back to the observation room he’d been in the previous day where he was instructed to roll up his sleeves and lay back as they proceeded to siphon off his blood. When they had one bag full they then hooked him up to another, and then another, the Doctor instructing him to tell them if he felt light headed but Steve had a suspicion that the enhancements to his body would simply enable him to generate more as fast as they took it. That said, by the time the third bag was full he was bored. Peggy seemed to sense it and she turned to the doctor who nodded and instructed everyone that they were done.

“Think you got enough?” Steve asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code.” Peggy replied simply, “but without Dr. Erskine, it could take years.”

“He deserved more than this.” Steve replied a little sadly and he meant it. The serum had been Erskine’s life work and now there was nothing to show for it as the last vial of the serum had been smashed on Brooklyn Pier.

“Well, if it could only work once, he’d be proud it was you,” Peggy looked at him.

Steve glanced at her, feeling a little embarrassed at her praise but he didn’t dwell on it and neither did she. Instead, she told him that once he was ready she’d take him down to the main lab were Phillips and Katie were talking to Senator Brandt about the plans for the SSR going forward. Keen to understand, he quickly sorted his shirt out.

He followed Peggy into the lab, his ears picking up the conversation as they entered.

“Speaking modestly, I’m the best mechanical engineer in this country,” Howard shrugged. “But I don’t know what’s inside this thing or how it works.”

“So much for not needing a head start, huh?” Katie teased and Howard glared at her before he turned back to Phillips.

“We’re not even close to this technology.”

“Then who is?” Senator Brandt demanded.

“HYDRA,” Phillips responded simply. “I’m sure you’ve been reading our briefings.”

“I’m on a number of committees, Colonel,” Brandt replied simply, completely unabashed at Phillips tone.

“HYDRA is the Nazi deep science division.” Katie explained

“It’s led by Johann Schmidt,” Peggy picked up, “but he has much bigger ambitions.”

“HYDRA’s practically a cult,” Phillips stated, “they worship Schmidt, they think he’s invincible.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Brandt asked and at that point Steve took a deep breath, finally he was about to find out what he was going to be doing.

“Spoke to the President this morning. As of today the SSR is being re-tasked.”

Katie and Peggy exchanged excited glances and Peggy looked back at Phillips, seeking clarification as she asked, “Colonel?”

“We are taking the fight to HYDRA,” Phillips looked at the woman. “Pack your bags Agent Carter. You too, Agent Stark,” he turned to Katie, “you’re flying to London tonight.”

Steve hesitated for a second, but when Phillips didn’t turn to speak to him and inform him where he was going, he hurried forward a little.

“Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”

“You’re an experiment,” Phillips shot back. “You’re going to Alamogordo.”

Steve frowned a little, but then pressed some more, he wasn’t letting this go.

“The serum worked,” his voice rose a little.

“I asked for an army and all I got was you. You are not enough.”

Katie wheeled round to look at Phillips, her face angry, “Oh, come on Sir, that’s-”

“I have put up with your insubordination for long enough. I don’t give a shit what you think, Agent Stark.” Philips snarled, “keep pushing me and so help me God, I will have you taken straight outta this unit and you’ll be back home typing up the Letters of Condolence.”

“But-”

“Enough!” Phillips snapped. “Now I suggest you disappear and pack.”

Katie took a deep breath, an angry noise escaping her throat as she turned and stormed away. Steve watched her go before he opened his mouth to argue some more with Phillips, but the man had already moved away.

They wanted to send him to a fucking research plant? Seriously? This was ridiculous.

“With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point,” Senator Brandt spoke to Steve and he turned to face the man. “I’ve seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the country’s seen it.” Brandt turned to his aide. “Paper.” His aide obeyed, showing them the paper in his hand. It was today’s copy of the ‘The New York Examiner’ which bore the headline "Nazis in New York - Mystery Man Saves Child" along with a picture of Steve holding the car door in front of him.

“The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands," Brandt smiled at Steve. “You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that, and hide him in a lab.” Steve felt a surge of hope flood his system as the Senator continued. “Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battlefield of the war?”

“Sir, that’s all I want,” Steve replied honestly.

“Then, congratulations,” The Senator held his hand out for Steve to shake. “You just got promoted.”

**** Steve’s hopes were short lived when Brandt explained what he had in mind - using Steve to boost recruitment and bond sales. But he knew he was getting nowhere with Phillips, so he decided to take the role and could only hope that it would lead to something else. Besides, it was important to gather support. The Forces needed all the financial and recruitment help they could get, and he could play a key part in that.

So Brandt said.

“Hey…”

Steve looked up from where he was packing the few items he’d unpacked from his trunk and looked at Katie.

“Oh, hi.” He said, turning back to his packing.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she continued and Steve took a deep breath, straightening up.

“Who told you?”

“Good news travel fast, Captain.” She stressed the last word and Steve had to actively stop himself from rolling his eyes. “That’s a pretty good promotion considering you’ve been a soldier all of a week.”

“Yeah, well, it was too good an opportunity to turn down. In fact, it was the only opportunity to turn down.” He watched her as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, before closing it again. And then Steve really did roll his eyes, “if you’ve got something to say, spit it out, Katie.”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me,” she snapped back.

“I’m not being-”

“Yes, you are,” she folded her arms. “It’s not my fault Phillips won’t let you in on this. I’ve tried, believe me, but for whatever reason he’s not moving.”

“He’s not moving because he doesn’t like me.” Steve replied simply.

“Well, that’s his loss," Katie countered. “And what’s with the sudden display of self-pity?”

“What?”

“This, moping around, acting all deflated.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you’re off, over there. Fighting the fight but me, well, looks like I’m gonna have to play ball with Senators doesn’t it?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do!” Steve’s voice rose and Katie blinked a little, but besides that she showed no signs of having registered his angry tone. “What choice do I have?”

“There’s always a choice, Steve.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snorted. “And my choice here is what? Go to the damned White Sands Proving Ground where they can run more tests on me? Keep me locked up like some kind of lab rat?”

“I didn’t say they were always good choices.”

“Well what do you think I should do huh?”

“That’s not for me to say.” Katie shook her head. “But I can tell you one thing....”

“What?”

“That I have faith in you to do what you feel is right, and continue to be the good man I know you are.” Her words were soft but they hit Steve like a freight train and he swallowed, suddenly aware of how down right shitty he’d been. “And if you’re telling me that it feels right that you go where Brandt wants you to go then…” she shrugged. 

“I have to try.” Steve replied.

“Well, in that case, I’ll say what I came to say in the first place," she gave him a soft smile, “good luck.”

Steve took a deep breath and sighed, “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry I snapped. I just, well, truth be told I’m a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, all I ever wanted was to be a soldier and to fight on the front lines. Like my dad did, and Bucky.” He sat down on the side of the bed, “And I agreed to this procedure because I thought it was my ticket there, ya know?”

“I get it,” Katie nodded, crossing the room to sit beside him. “And I understand how frustrated you feel, believe me.” He turned to look at her to see her glancing down at her hands before she looked up at a spot on the wall opposite them. “I just can’t say anything to make it better, other than repeat what I said before. I have absolute faith and belief that you’ll do what you think is right. And that’s all any of us can do.”

Steve looked straight in her eyes as they flickered across both of his and he took a deep breath, her words echoing round his mind. Throughout this, she and Erskine had been the two people who had utterly believed he was the best man for the job so to speak. Now Erskine was gone, and he was about to be separated from her as well. And it pained him to think about it, as he realised that he was going to miss her, for more than the simple reason that she’d been a friend to him. 

“You know I’m sorry we met the way we did,” his thoughts blurted out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Katie frowned, “what?”

“No, I err…” Steve sighed and then gave a snort. “Guess the serum didn’t enhance my ability to talk to a dame without completely making a total screw up of it.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Katie smiled, “you do a decent job most of the time.” She paused as Steve gave a little huff of laughter before she turned her body a little more towards him, “what’s on your mind, Soldier?”

“I meant, I’m sorry that we met when we did. And, you know, not sooner.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands, “or maybe even later, when all this is over.”

“If it ever is,” Katie sighed and Steve raised his eyes to hers as she licked her lips a little. “Steve, I’m not sad I met you when I did. Quite the opposite actually. It’s been…” she paused for a moment before she smiled “…a little ray of hope in an otherwise very gloomy world.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “you know, a reminder that no matter how ugly the world seems or how much it changes, it’s still a beautiful place.”

Steve thought on her words for a second, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“What?” She asked as she noted his expression.

“You just remind me of my mom,” he smiled. “She was always a 'look on the bright side' kind of woman. No matter what life threw at us, she was always reminding me there were people far worse off.”

“She sounds like a smart lady.”

“She was,” Steve smiled with a short nod. “kind, compassionate. Just more ways you remind me of her.”

He didn’t miss the faint flush on Katie’s cheeks as she looked down at her hands and then raised her eyes to look at him, “I’m honoured.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I meant what I said the other night before we, you know.” He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat felt like a tennis ball. “I like you, more than like you in fact.”

“Kinda sucks we’re about to be separated doesn’t it?” Katie looked at him, her eyes sad and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“But, I’m a firm believer that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” Katie shrugged and at that Steve gave a scoff. She turned to him, a playful look on her face. “What, you don’t believe in fate?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “you make your own luck.”

“Right.” A little side smile broke on her mouth, “you did a good job with that when you happened to be at the Expo the same time Erskine was.”

“Lucky coincidence.”

“And what was me getting accosted by a load of rapscallions in Brooklyn?”

“A not-so-lucky for you coincidence.” Steve shrugged.

“You know what the definition of the word coincidence is?”

“Not word for word, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“Sass bag.” Katie nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled, “but you’re right, I am. It’s a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent casual connection.”

“And?”

“Fate is the development of events outside a person’s control.” Katie looked at him, her eyebrow arched, “just as a coincidence is beyond a person’s control. And if fate is what’s gonna happen to you no matter what you do, and coincidence is merely a matter of being in the right place at the right time, then what if you’re in the right place at the right time because it’s simply meant to be.”

Steve looked at her, utterly sideswiped at her sentiment. Whilst he wasn’t sure he agreed, the logic was surely there and the fact she’d laid it so bare, been so open with him knocked him for six. He saw her eyes flicker to his mouth again, and in a sudden surge of confidence he gently moved, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to meet him in a soft, gentle kiss that was loaded with meaning.

“Yup,” she sniffed a little as she pulled away and Steve was both surprised and horrified to see the tears in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to his, their noses bumping a little, “this definitely sucks.”

“Write to me,” he whispered, his thumbs swiping away her tears and she smiled, nodding, before she caught his lips again, this time the kiss was deeper, and Steve had to fight back the groan that was bubbling in his throat as he felt her tongue slide against his. They were interrupted by a loud noise outside and Katie pulled away, dropping her gaze a little before she sighed and stood up.

“Stay safe, Soldier,” she smiled, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I’d hate for you to come back horrifically disfigured.”

At that Steve snorted, “would it put you off?” He teased, “I didn’t think you were that shallow.”

“I’m not,” she smiled as she made her way to the door. “It’d just be a helluva waste, a face like that.”

With that she was gone and Steve felt his smile fade, the warmth in his chest replaced by a hollow feeling which engulfed his entire body, as the realisation spread across him that he had no idea when he would see her again.

If indeed, at all.

****

November 1943.

 “I already volunteered, how do you think I got here?”

“Nice boots, Tinkerbell…”

“Hey, Captain! Sign this”

The heckling from the assembled crowd rang through Steve’s mind as he sat dejectedly on the side of the stage, the miserable, cold rain matching his mood. His hand moved absentmindedly, shading in the drawing he’d sketched in his book. A very apt sketch of a Circus Monkey on a Unicycle clutching the damned shield he’d been given as part of his costume. It turns out the “battlefield” that Senator Brandt had been referring to was nothing more than a grotesque road show across the US and various other places on the Allied Map encouraging people to buy war bonds.

“The Senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.”

Yeah, a "platoon" of chorus girls and confetti cannons, complete with ‘Adolph’ himself. Steve had knocked him out countless times, and was still no closer to getting in on the real action.

He’d travelled all over the place during the last four months, the tour had been successful, and there was no denying that it was helping the effort in a way. “Bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazi’s bing bang boom.” But this wasn’t what he had signed up for. Nor did he believe for one second that this was what Dr. Erskine had in mind for how his serum would be put into use.

He’d made a few propaganda films, all part of the course according to Brandt who had then had the bright idea to send Captain America on the USO tour, to attempt to lift spirits. So here he was in Italy, five miles from the front line, having finally made it overseas as a soldier, only to be stood on a stage in front of the men he should have been fighting alongside, being pelted by rotten fruit and vegetables instead of bullets.

It didn’t help that he knew the SSR were fast ramping up their efforts on HYDRA, having been reassigned to somewhere in mainland Europe, not unlike himself at that point in time. He’d had a few letters from Katie, but he had no idea where she was. She didn’t go into details, which was to be expected, she couldn’t and her mail always reached him through the usual military channels. He’d tried to remain positive in his letters back to her, focussing on nights where had a particularly good show, meeting and greeting his ‘fans’ afterwards, carefully omitting details about the women that now seemed to be throwing themselves at him. Be it in bars, back stage or simply as he emerged from the venues; there was no shortage of ladies vying for his attention. And had he been that way inclined, he could have taken any number of them dancing and then back to wherever he was staying that night, but the fact was he didn’t want to.

Because no matter how pretty or forthcoming the girls were, his mind and heart remained with a certain green eyed agent.

It was ironic, when he thought about it. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song dubbed him, yet Steve felt as if he had never had less of a plan in his life.

“Hello, Steve," a familiar voice spoke in his ear and Steve jerked his head up in surprise and turned, doing a little double take as he looked up at Katie.

“Hi,” he instantly felt his heart rate pick up dramatically in her presence, like it normally did as his eyes laid upon her. She was dressed in standard Army green wool pants that were tailored for a man with wide legs and long length that she tucked in to her well-worn mid-calf boots which were brown leather with lace protection straps and looked as if they had happily trudged through mud and been beaten until they broke in and needed new soles. Her unit issued jacket was the same colour green as her pants, but the harsh canvas material gave a weighted appearance across her shoulders as it was buttoned and zipped it up.  Beneath it, she wore her wool tie and collared shirt, no doubt tucked into her trousers for a crisp clean look.

Steve noted how it was a stark (pun intended) difference to the previous smart pencil skirt and jacketed uniform he had seen her in at the SSR base which Peggy, who stood to her left, was still sporting. But then again, the two women were very different, and knowing Katie as he did, she wasn't one to conform and who knew what she had been up to whilst on the front line.

All it did was serve to make Steve feel even more self-conscious and ridiculous in his own outfit, designed for dancing and prancing around not active combat. 

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked, his eyes flicking to Peggy before they returned to Katie again.

“Officially we’re not here at all,” Peggy smiled. “That was quite a performance.”

Great, they’d seen it. His shoulders slumped at little as he turned away.

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh, twelve.”

“Probably less full of jerks as well,” Katie snorted and Steve looked at her, his mouth curling into a slight smile as Peggy let out a sigh.

“You know what soldiers are like. Present company excepted of course,” Peggy quickly corrected herself as Steve had cocked any eyebrow at her sweeping assumption, before she turned to the other agent. “I warned you-“

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Katie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Peggy took a deep breath, before she turned back to Steve, swiftly changing the subject. “I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit,” Steve chanted off, the words flowing out of him the same way they did whenever he spoke to someone about the Roadshow and he grimaced as he realised just what a damned puppet he had become.

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Katie teased and Steve took a deep breath.

“At least he’s got me doin’ this,” Steve felt a sudden need to defend his decision to take the role in the first place, especially after their conversation before he had left. “Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your only two options?” Peggy looked at him, nodding to his sketch book which was still open in his lap. “A lab rat or a dancing monkey?”

“You were meant for more than this, you know?” Katie added gently, and Steve looked at her, hesitating as his sarcastic reply died in his throat. Instead he looked away, a little dejected. She was right, he had been meant for more that was the whole point of him taking the serum. But even after he’d been turned into this Super Soldier, been given such power and capability, he still wasn’t enough.

“What?” Katie pressed gently, having noticed his hesitation.

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

Before either of the women could respond there was the sound of a horn honking which diverted their attention. Steve turned to watch as an ambulance pulled to a halt outside the medical tent. The back doors were flung open and several injured soldiers were pulled out of the back on stretches, nurses and medical staff rushing to help as they disappeared through the drapes of the tents, the walking wounded being helped down and aided as they limped behind.

“They look like they’ve been through hell,” Steve commented, a deep feeling of sadness at the sight of the injured men flooded his chest.

“These men more than most,” Peggy commented and Steve turned to look at her, a little confused as to what she meant.

“Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano,” Katie explained. “Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.”

Steve felt his chest tighten, as if someone had trapped it in a vice and his head momentarily span as the meaning of her words sank in.

“The one-oh-seventh?” He breathed out, begging it to be wrong. But Katie simply frowned as she gave a nod.

“What?”

Steve swallowed and looked around before he rose to his feet. “That was Bucky’s unit.” He turned to face her, his voice sounded alien as he almost choked on his words. Katie’s face slid into a look of recognition, her mouth falling open.

“Barnes?” She asked and Steve nodded, as he ran a hand down his face, once more glancing round desperately hoping for Bucky to appear and rip into him for his ridiculous outfit. But he knew that if Bucky had been in that audience, he would have already found him. Which meant that he was either amongst the injured soldiers in the tent or…

“Who’s Barnes?” Peggy asked form behind him.

“Steve’s friend from home,” Katie replied gently as Steve turned back to look at the women.

“I need to check if he’s there,” Steve nodded towards the medical tent.

“Not a good idea,” Peggy cut him off. “You saw their reaction to you before. If you go waltzing in you’re going to upset them.”

“I don’t really care,” Steve spluttered

“Well you should,” Peggy looked at him sternly.

“I have to know if he survived!”

“Okay, look…” Katie took a deep breath, and he tore his eyes away from Peggy who was still glaring at him to look instead at the other woman. “Phillips will have the list of the-“ she hesitated, clearly searching for the best word “-casualties. We can ask him.”

“Phillips is here too?” Steve frowned, although he wasn’t sure why that had surprised him. Decision made, he turned and started running across the camp shooting a, “come on,” over his shoulder as the heavy rain pelted down onto them all.

He busted into the tent, “Colonel Phillips,” and the man looked up, a disgruntled expression spread across his face before he took a deep breath and looked back down at the papers on his desk as Steve strode purposefully towards him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man with a plan, and what is your plan today?” Phillip’s voice was laced with sarcasm but Steve didn’t care. At the moment he had one thing on his mind, and that was Bucky.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.” Phillips snapped, looking up at him once more and Steve ignored his angry tone, his stubbornness showing through as he continued to pres.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.”

“You two and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy,” Phillips pointed to both Agent Carter and Katie in turn.

“Can’t wait," Katie sassed back and Phillips’ head shot up to look at her as he once more fixed her with a stare that could freeze over hell, but Steve didn’t have time for this.

“Please tell me if he’s alive, Sir. B-A-R…”

“I can spell,” the Colonel stated harshly as he tore his eyes from Katie. He looked at the papers in his hand and with a sigh dropped them to his desk and when he spoke his voice was a little softer. "I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry." 

Steve swallowed, a feeling of cold washing over his body as the Colonel's words sank in. It might sound familiar but there was a chance it could be another Barnes. It was a common name, after all, and even if it was Bucky’s name on the letter, he could be missing assumed dead, not actually confirmed dead. Peggy and Katie had told him before that there were still men from the unit trapped behind lines. 

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he’d really had time to consider them properly.

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

Steve frowned, “but if you know where they are, why not at least…?"

Colonel Phillips stood up, the expression on his face belonged to a man who had just lost his final bit of patience. "They're thirty miles behind the lines, through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save." He moved around the desk to stand in front of Steve, his hands falling to his hips as fixed him with a stern and challenging glare. "But I don't expect you to understand that, because you're a chorus girl."

Steve took a breath, the anger coursing inside him at the dig that Phillips had just made, but before he could say anything, he heard Katie scoff besides him. 

“And who’s fault is that?”

Phillips turned to Katie, his face contorted in anger “You are this close…” he held his thumb and forefinger up a fraction of an inch apart.

Katie’s jaw clenched and her chin tipped up defiantly as she glared back at the man. Steve, having had chance to compose himself slightly now the spoke in an attempt to draw the attention back away from her and onto himself.

“I think I understand just fine.”

“Well then understand it somewhere else.” Phillips turned away. “If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes”

As he spoke the last words, Steve took note of the map which lay on the table and he noticed a flag marked with an H which caught his attention. And then, he made his decision.

The Star Spangled Man finally had a plan.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

***** Chapter 5

[luvteez]

at your service

pairing: san x fem!reader genre + tags: smut | humiliation (in the form of wearing a maid costume bc san is a kinky weeb), begging, master kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected sex wc: 2.2k

A smirk creeps on San’s lips the moment the door flies open. He’s made himself comfortable on the bed, legs crossed and head resting against the headboard. Before he can let out the comment that’s been lying heavy on the tip of his tongue, you lash out first.

“I fucking hate you for making me wear this.”

“Yes, you told me that around six times already,” he drawls, visibly amused by the situation. “But we had a deal. You lost, so suck it up.”

The neckline plunges too low for your liking, and the skirt — can it even be considered a skirt? — is so short that you’re bound to flash the panties you’re wearing underneath whenever you as much as dare move. Perhaps you’d find the garter belt cute, if only you weren’t wearing it with this skimpy version of a maid uniform. How much did San pay for this? Actually, you don’t want to know.

San gets off the bed, eyes trained on you the entire time. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth once his gaze settles on your exposed legs, making you clench your thighs together. The way he blatantly eye-fucks you has you growing wet, and you fucking hate it. It’s one thing to be put through this humiliation, but wearing this maid outfit and being aroused? Your ego can only take so much.

Once he’s standing in front of you, the power imbalance couldn’t get any more obvious. There’s him, wearing a nice dress shirt with the top buttons undone and black jeans, and then there’s you in nothing but a slutty rendition of a servant costume. The look he sends you makes you tear your eyes away from him and heartbeat rise to your ears, and you just hope for the better that he doesn’t point it out.

Luckily, he doesn’t. Instead, he circles around you, giving you a once-over from every possible angle. It’s silent, save for the sound of San’s footsteps bouncing off the walls. You wait for him to say something with bated breath, but that never comes. Eventually, he stops right behind you, and you’re pretty sure he’s fixated on the part of your ass that the skirt doesn’t cover.

The silence is deafening, unbearable even, but you don’t plan on losing this unsaid game. If San already has you dressed as degradingly as it can get, you’re not going to entertain him any further. But then an arm wraps around your waist and pins your back against his chest, while another hand snakes down under your skirt and cups your covered cunt. You manage to bite back a moan at the sudden contact, but your body betrays you with how you jolt.

“Cute,” San snickers, before propping his chin on your shoulder. “Just adorable.” His breath is hot against your neck as he continues to put his fingers to use. He traces your folds over the panties that are slowly turning damper by the second, toys around with your clit, and even dares to shove some of your underwear into your entrance once you’re leaking enough to his liking. You struggle to stand still on both legs as he does how he pleases, deadset on withstanding him, even if this torture is the cost. 

“I hate you,” you say through gritted teeth, but it comes out rather comical when your knees finally give up on you and you lean on him for support. The subtle moan that follows suit doesn’t help either. San only smiles against your skin before he pushes your underwear aside and slides two digits in you. The messy technique is all over the place, but he curls his fingers in all the right angles and hits all of your weak spots precisely, reducing you into a panting wreck. You throw your head back, overwhelmed by everything that’s going on, and when he pays attention to your clit again, you’re on the verge. 

You’re so close that you can taste your sweet release, but then he stops. You’re about to complain because you know full well what he’s done, but he beats you to it first.

“Come again? What did you say? You’re my maid now, so you better act like one. This is part of the deal after all.” Although he’s muttering in your ear, he enunciates every single syllable with clarity that makes your skin crawl. “Apologize.”

You know exactly what he’s after. San wants to break you. wants to crush your pride and make you his little bitch. You’d put up a longer fight, but your mind is just revolving around sansansan and the desperate want to come. 

“Forgive me.” You cringe at how small your voice sounds, defenseless even. 

“Forgive me...?” he echoes as his fingers start to move again, albeit at a much slower pace than before. You’re confused by the implication, and turn all cogs in your brain in hopes of finding the answer. 

Oh.

Oh.

The daunting realization must’ve flashed across your face because San encourages you to speak. If only you could turn your head and face him, you’d give him a piece of your mind. Not that it would’ve been effective anyway, since he has you locked in his hold.

He whispers the first syllable of the word, and you gasp. Your suspicions were right all along, but the confirmation makes you burn up even more in embarrassment. He’s really trying to stoop you down onto the lowest level. 

But you can do it. you tell yourself you can do it. After all, a deal’s a deal.

“M-master. Forgive me, master.”

San wasn’t prepared for the delivery, judging by the way he flinches. To your dismay, he pulls out entirely, leaving you gaping, and the growl that follows is borderline feral. “You’re the maid, not me. You’re the one who should be doing all the work. If you want to cum, then earn it.” With that, he lets go of you before heading back to the bed. 

You’re at a loss of words. All you can do is stare at him as he makes himself comfy on the bed again, but you quickly scramble to him when he motions you towards him with a flick of his hand. 

“What do you want me to do?” San cocks a brow as if to say is this your best? and you quickly rephrase. “Is there anything I can help you with... master?” The word feels so foreign on your tongue, doesn’t slip the right way. You hate how it’s enough of a confirmation that he has the upper hand; a confirmation that you’re nothing but his little servant. 

He smiles lazily. “Sit on my cock.” And that’s all it takes to have you straddling him. You don’t waste any time pulling his pants down along with the black briefs, letting his length spring out. He’s fully hard and flushed red, just looking inviting to suck on, and it has your mouth watering. But then: “Keep the uniform on.”

Of course it was too good to be true. There’s no way San would let you forget who’s in absolute charge here. You can’t complain though, because you’re getting dicked earlier than expected. 

You manage to slide him inside of you without any complications. Breathy moans leave his mouth as you take him in inch by inch, and the way he struggles to lie still is a tiny victory for you. Meanwhile, the way his cock stretches you out has you whining in pleasure, and your head is only spinning around sansansan by the time you’ve taken him up to the hilt.

“Can I— do you want me to move, master?” 

Maybe it was because you got your hopes up to high, but you can’t help how disdain spreads all over you when San reaches for his phone on the nightstand. “No. Sit still.”

And just like that, he dismisses you nonchalantly and starts tapping rapidly on his phone; as if having you sit on his cock while wearing a maid outfit is a daily occurrence. Your jaw nearly drops when you realize he’s fucking texting. You’re about to speak up, but then the thought of him chastising you because you’re supposed to be a maid pops up in your brain. He’d definitely do that, and he’d definitely punish you too. The question is, how far is he willing to go?

You don’t want to find out. 

So you sit still, losing track of time. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on his lap, trying your best not to think about his cock pulsing in you, but it must’ve been a fucking while when San suddenly tilts his phone, thumbs no longer moving. That’s when you become acutely aware of the camera facing you, and you can’t help but wonder what on earth he’s watching. 

Or what if he’s filming you—

That thought has you unknowingly clenching your walls, and you inhale sharply as you realize he’s still snug in you. Luckily, San doesn’t stir, and that realization has you going on your rounds. Maybe if you do it one more time and he doesn’t budge, you could get away with it—

“A-are you recording?” The words are spoken out loud before you even realize it.

San looks up at you and tilts his head. “No, I’m not. Why?” His voice is dripping in innocence, but then he lifts a brow and you know you’re doomed. “Do you want me to record you? Does it turn you on? Is that the reason why you keep tightening around me? Why you’re quite literally dripping on my cock?” 

Your heart almost stops dead in its tracks. So he noticed the entire time.

“Please let me move, master. Please,” you blurt out, no longer caring about your fucking dignity. “Please let me come on your cock. W-want master to fuck me dumb and show me my place.” The number of times you said please in the last few seconds is pitiful, but you don’t find it within you to care. 

“That would imply that you were thinking in the first place. If you weren’t stupid, you wouldn’t have insulted me and said you hated me.”

“You’re right, master, I wasn’t thinking earlier. Please,” you beg, vision slowly getting blurry. San truly outdid himself and got what he fucking wanted, reducing you to the point where you’re so desperate you’re about to cry. Of course you’re desperate because there’s a cock filling you up but you’re not being fucked. And as if that wasn’t hell in itself, you’re wearing this godforsaken maid outfit because you lost a bet.

“Ssh, I got you, baby.” San’s eyes instantly soften and there’s fondness lying in them. You know what he’s about to ask, but you quickly give him the green light to continue. He mouths you an ‘okay’ and reassuringly squeezes your hand before settling both of his hands on your hips. 

There’s a playful glimmer in his eyes, and then he sets back into character, smugness written all over his face. “You want me to fuck you dumb? I’m gonna fuck your brains out, alright.”

In a split second, his grip on your hips tighten. the next thing you know, he snaps his hips against you, and you’re sent three dimensions over. 

His cock manages to reach you even deeper if that’s humanly possible, and you sob. Your moans overlap with his grunts as he thrusts in and out of you at a brutal pace. You barely find the energy to keep your body up, and it’s all San’s doing as he slams your hips down on him. Eventually, he manages to flip your positions around so that you’re pliant underneath him. He doesn’t let down with the intensity when he fumbles for your clit, and your eyes roll back as you feel your orgasm approaching. 

And just a few seconds before you unravel, he pulls his cock out entirely. Fighting back the tears welling up in your eyes, you choke when he nudges his head against your clit. Precum dribbles down your slit and mixes with your own slick, reminding you that he’s not letting you come again.

“Why?” you wince. San is unfazed by your desperation.

“You wanted me to show you your place, didn’t you?” He slides his head along your slit for good measure, and raises his voice to add, “I’ll show you your place and give you what you want if you do what master wants.”

Despite the buzz in your head, you get the underlying order. San isn’t fucking around and means business, always has, so you muster up the energy to ask, “What do you want, master?”

The sly grin he flashes is the only thing you see. “I want you to say my name over and over again. And once you’ve said it loud enough, I want you to scream it.” He gently grabs your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “I want the whole neighbourhood to know who’s making you feel good.”

[unsettledink]

Made For It

Exchange fic for the 2020 Marvel Holidays Secret Santa, hosted by @iloveyou3thousand

My recip was livvibee - Fingers crossed this works for you! I took your ‘anything goes’ and... went with it. Hopefully in a direction that you’re okay with!

Made For It

Word Count: 8100

Summary: Tony has never had the patience to deal with alphas. Too bad that his son just presented as one. But there's no way Tony is ever going to let Peter know how upsetting that is; his kid is still mostly perfect.

It is too bad, right?

(ABO, peter’s 15, also is tony’s bio child, heats/ruts, knotting, dirty talk, referencing mpreg, very dead dove, please heed the warnings)

Link to AO3 at the end

*

Tony has never had the patience to deal with alphas.

Honestly, he just can’t stand them. Always acting like they know best, don’t worry your pretty little omega head about it. Pushing their way into everything, trying to take over and dismiss Tony as unessential for anything of actual importance. 

Fuck them. Just because Tony’s an omega doesn’t mean he can just be handled like that, doesn’t mean he’s going to put up with it. Being an omega doesn’t mean he wants to be under someone’s thumb like that, and is sure as hell doesn’t mean he needs an alpha. 

There isn’t an alpha out there that actually knows what’s best for him.

Even for Peter— sure, he’d needed an alpha’s sperm for his kid, but he had the resources to go for artificial insemination. The take rate for male omegas is awful, but Tony’s never relied on luck. He has JARVIS. 

Is it strange to have his AI pick out the best possible candidate for Tony’s baby? Maybe. Is it invasive for JARVIS to consider any alpha, whether or not they’ve actually donated? Probably, but the winner had been more than happy enough to provide a sample once Tony had thrown enough money at him, and Tony hadn’t even had to meet him. Had even been willing to sign away all their rights as a mate and a parent for a little extra. 

Does it result in Tony taking on the very first try? Absolutely, and that makes it worth every single penny. Because he gets Peter out of it, gets his wonder, perfect kid. Smart and sweet and stubborn (you take after me so much, Tony’s started telling him when they fight, and it generally makes them both grin). Tony couldn’t ask for a better kid in any way, and he loves Peter more than anything in the world.

And then Peter turns fifteen; presents a few months later, earlier than most of his yearmates. 

As an alpha. 

The first Tony knows of it is when he comes home and smelled… something off. Something viscerally wrong, disgusting. Something that only got worse when he went into the living room and found Peter hunched over on the couch, a little ball of misery. 

“Peter?” Tony says. He’s still supposed to be in school and Tony doesn’t think he got a call about Peter being sent home. “What’s wrong?”

Peter looks up, red eyed, upset. “I’m sorry,” he says,  offering up a piece of paper. “I— it happened at school and the nurse ran the test and it’s— I’m—”

Tony doesn’t need him to say it; he knows what the red header on the test results means. Knows what that smell is now, knows why he feels on edge in his own home. Peter’s an alpha. Peter’s—

Peter’s shaking. “Dad,” he says, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to! I don’t want to be an alpha! I’m sorry!” He bursts into tears and fuck, it doesn’t matter how awful Peter smells now, Tony can’t just let his baby cry all alone like that.

“Oh kiddo, no,” Tony says, kneeling inf ront of Peter and grabbing his hands. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“But you hate alphas!” Peter wails. “You hate them so much and now I’m one and— I’m sorry, please Dad, I’m so sorry.”

Fuck, fuck. “I don’t hate you, sweetheart. I could never hate you.” He tugs Peter closer, Peter clinging, sobbing against his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, I know that. I know you didn’t want this, but… it’ll be okay in the end, I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

*

It’s rough at first. 

After Peter gets through the first stage of his presentation, his scent settles. Grows, into that thick, bitter, sweet scent that clings to the back of Tony’s tongue. It’s awful, and Tony can’t escape it; it’s everywhere in the house, and all over Peter, over everything he touches. 

Peter can’t help it. He knows this, and he’s not going to make his son take blockers just because Tony has a— a thing about alphas. He’ll get used to it. He’d told Peter it wasn’t his fault and it’d be okay, and he’s going to do his damndest to make Peter believe it. 

He’s never going to let Peter know how unpleasant it’s become to even be in the same room as him, much less it next to him, or to hug him and kiss his forehead and treat him just like Tony always has, because Peter is taking this badly. He’s distressingly fragile about this, and Tony’s worried. It’s his own fault, with the way he’s talked about alphas all of Peter’s life, but he’d never thought— well, it doesn’t matter now. He’s just got to try and fix some of the damage he’s done. 

It’s not Peter’s fault he’s not quite so perfect anymore.

So, it’s rough at first, but slowly, things ease. Slowly, Peter’s first rush of scent dies down, mellowing into something not quite as awful. Starts to take the influence of Tony’s, softening a little, becoming more familiar. Not nearly as comfortable to be around as he used to be, but still something Tony finds easier to tolerate.

Slowly, Peter becomes more comfortable with his secondary gender, and Tony— Tony works hard not to think of Peter like that. To not apply those stereotypes—are they, Tony wonders, if they’ve been born out every time he’s dealt with an alpha—to Peter. He loves Peter, and he’s never going to stop loving Peter, no matter he’s become. 

And then Tony has a heat.

Tony doesn’t even think about it; it’s never been a problem before. When Peter was younger, Tony would send him for a long weekend at Uncle Rhodey’s and grit his teeth and suffer through it. Sometimes he broke, when the heat aids weren’t enough and he was so desperate he couldn’t stand it. Would hire a heat companion, the lowest rated alpha they could find, one willing to shut up and take orders.

The need quiets as he gets older, thank god, and it got to the point where he could nearly ignore them. Could just spend a few hours knotting himself once Peter had gone to bed and keep going the rest of the time. Maybe a little more irritable, a little tired, a little achy, but just fine, and Peter knew by then you just be a little more forgiving for those few days. A little kinder, even. 

Had actually been really good about it the last few years. Been cute, actually; had put on Tony’s favorite shows, had tried to cook things Tony especially liked (or order things he did, when the cooking failed spectacularly a few times. He definitely got that from Tony.), had practically bullied him into using the jacuzzi when Tony complained too much once about hurting all over and getting old. Had just… attempted to pamper him a little bit, adorably.

Tony won’t lie; he’s never let an alpha do that for him. He hadn’t wanted to give them ideas. But it’s always been fine for Peter to do it, and it’s been a little comforting. Peter’s just a good kid. 

But this time— 

This time, his heat hits him harder than usual, all the aches and pains and itchy, burning want that he’d thought he’d mostly left behind. This time, when Peter came home from school, Tony knew without seeing him, hearing him. He knew, because the second Peter walked in—

He didn’t smell terrible anymore. 

Fuck, he smelled good, so good, insansely good. The best thing Tony’s ever smelled, and that base part of his brain wants to just bask in it, cover himself in it. Tony freezes in the doorway of the kitchen; he doesn’t even remember getting here. 

He stares at Peter and Peter stares right back, eyes wide and darkening, his scent rising in response to a heat. 

Tony swallows, hard. “Peter,” he says. “I think you should go spend a couple days at Ned’s. Or Rhodey’s, or— or even Nat. Just. Not here.” 

Peter blinks at him, slowly. “I don’t have to,” he says. 

Yes, yes he does. “I want you to,” Tony says, and he knows it’s going to hurt Peter; there it is, that little flinch. Anything he can do to get Peter out of the house is going to be worth it, though, because this— this is not supposed to happen. His body is not supposed to recognize his fucking son as a good potential mate.

“Are you sure?” Peter asks, stepping forward, and Tony shudders, his scent deepening, spreading. Suffocating. 

“Please,” Tony croaks, and Peter nods. Practically flees, and Tony has the horrible realization that Peter might have felt something of the same. 

It’s not a good heat. 

*

Things get a little awkward. 

They avoid talking about it, completely, but… well. Tony isn’t going to stop having heats, after all. And Peter— Peter is stubborn. So stubborn, like Tony doesn’t know where he got it from, like Tony hasn’t encouraged it. 

Peter loves him and hates to see him hurting. So the next time, when Tony tells him to go— Peter squares his shoulders and says no. 

“Last time,” Peter says, “I came home and you’d barely eaten. You slept for almost the whole day after and you looked awful and you smelled—” he stumbles to a halt, blushes. “You smelled wrong,” he says after a deep breath. “Like you were sick. It— it scared me, Dad. I don’t want to leave you alone like that.”

“I don’t have to be alone,” Tony says. “I can— I can hire a companion.”

Peter frowns, staring down at the floor. Crosses his arms. “You’d hate that,” he says, very small. 

Yeah, Tony would. Has, in the past. It’s better than the alternative though. 

“Please,” Peter says. 

“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea, kiddo,” is the most he can manage without— without saying something heading into dangerous ground.

“It’s not a problem for most people,” Peter mutters, and Tony doesn’t want to be the one to point out that apparently, they aren’t most people. 

He caves. 

It’s an even rougher heat. Oh sure, this time he doesn’t spend the entire time curled up in bed, frantically fucking himself with the largest knot he has and still feeling empty and desperate and abandoned, barely dragging himself to eat or clean up a few times, feeling sick, feverish, the whole time. And Peter’s downright annoying about attempting to take care of him, bringing him food and pestering him about not hiding away the whole time and making Tony take care of himself some more, even if it’s mostly to avoid the shame of Peter seeing him like this. 

But it’s torture, having Peter in the house. It’s torture, having what his brain seems to think is the perfect mate right there and not available, not doing anything. Having to tell himself over and over, in the worst of his heat when he can barely think straight anyway, that he can’t have this alpha. He can’t have Peter. Can’t have his son, fuck.

This is one of the many, many reasons Tony hates alphas. Because they do this bullshit to him, fuck with his head and make him want things, make it so hard to control himself. Make him consider things he never would. 

He wouldn’t. 

This is why he hates alphas, Tony thinks, the heat after that, Peter insisting that it had been fine last time so he’s staying again. This is why, he repeats in his head, making himself wait until Peter’s gone to bed before he fucks himself with his newest aid, larger than all the others, with all the bells and whistles to make it seem like a real alpha’s knot. 

This is fucking why, he tells himself as he comes again and again and again, clenching around it and muffling everything coming out of his mouth in the pillow; because they make him do this, want this. Makes it so easy, so good, to imagine Peter fucking him, knotting him, filling him up and biting him, god, fuck. Makes him moan Peter into his bedding; whisper, hopeless, desperate, please, Peter please, need you.

Because they make him not himself. 

But he’s not going to stop having heats, so he has to— has to just find a way to deal with this, a way that leaves him able to still look Peter in the eye after his heat’s passed. They’re not going to stop.

Worse, so much worse, Peter starts having ruts.

The first one— the first one, Tony hadn’t even smelled. The first one had been an almost instant slide from normal—Peter a little testy and distracted but normal—to full rut, Peter’s scent sharpening, deepening, flooding over Tony strong enough to make his knees go weak, send him sagging against the counter. Peter’s staring at him when Tony looks over, a little glazed, heavy and intent like Tony is some sort of prey, and it’s horrifying to see that expression on his kid’s face. 

Tony freezes, not wanting to set Peter off in any way, and Peter closes his eyes. Inhales, long and deep, scenting Tony, Jesus Christ. 

Opens his eyes, and there’s a flicker, a moment where he seems to realize what is happening, what he’s doing. Freezes too, and then—

Runs. 

He’s gone before Tony has a chance to move, a chance to even call after him, slamming out of the house without taking a single thing with him. Tony sits, shakily, and has a little breakdown. 

He doesn’t know how they’re going to manage this now. What the hell they’re going to do. Fuck, what Peter’s going to feel, when his rut is over.

Rhodey calls a few hours later, just to let him know Peter’s with him, safe and incredibly upset. “He won’t tell me anything,” Rhodey says as Tony clutches his phone, “but… well, he’s in rut, Tony. It’s probably his first, right?” Tony manages a noise that sounds like affirmation. “Right. I’m sure that’s it; they say it’s rough the first time. He can stay until it’s over. He’ll be fine; don’t worry, Tones.”

Too late. 

If he thought things were awkward after his heats, they’re so much more fucking awkward when Peter comes back two days later, rut scent gone. His normal scent nearly scrubbed as well, buried beneath heavily scented soap and— Tony sniffs, carefully, once Peter’s turned his back. His scent is so muted, metallic tinged, just off— he took a blocker. He took a fucking blocker so his scent wouldn’t bother Tony as much.

Tony’s heart nearly breaks. “Peter,” he says. “Baby. Come here a minute.”

Peter’s wary when he walks over, ashamed. Stops, a little too far away. “No,” Tony says, and opens his arms. “Come here.”

“Are you sure?” Peter says, so quiet, and Tony’s heart does break, completely. 

“Oh, kiddo,” he says. “Yes, yes, I’m sure,” and he clings to Peter just as tightly as Peter clings to him. It feels like he hasn’t properly hugged Peter in months.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispers. “I’m so sorry, Dad, I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why but I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tony tells him. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. We’re going to be okay.” He ducks his head, brushing his mouth right over Peter’s scent point. “I don’t want you to take scent blockers,” he says. “They’re not good for you, and you’re not— you don’t need to, Peter. I’m going to be fine without them.”

“I don’t want it to bother you,” Peter says, and Tony shakes his head.

“It doesn’t. It won’t,” he promises. “You’re more important to me than any of that.”

*

He doesn’t know how he gets through his next couple of heats. 

Peter stays, and stays, and Tony gets used to his scent there, during them. He starts thinking—

You’re not supposed to be ashamed of anything you think during heat, whatever it is, however wrong it is. Everyone knows it turns omegas into someone they aren’t normally, that those things don’t count as real wants. Still, Tony doesn’t think h should ever admit that what he’s started thinking about during his last few heats isn’t just Peter, inside him and under him and filling him up. 

It’s Peter, how Peter— Peter wouldn’t be one of those alphas, would he. Peter’s stubborn and a little pushy sometimes, but he’d never try to take over, never think he’s better than Tony. Never try to push him, manipulate him into doing something he didn’t want. Wouldn’t try to mate him or breed him without Tony’s permission, and would never use him like a mindless fucktoy, a stupid little omega slut. 

No; Peter would be such a soft alpha, so willing and careful with Tony, so easy to control, to direct. So good at taking direction. 

Peter would be—could be—the perfect alpha for Tony. He’d barely need any training to be exactly what Tony wants; after all, he already loves Tony. He already wants Tony. It’s like this is what he was born to be. 

It’s awful, but Tony’s still thinking it during his heats. Is still thinking it outside of his heats, day to day, watching Peter and seeing all the ways in which Peter would be perfect. He already smells like Tony. He already knows exactly what Tony likes. Knows how difficult Tony can be and isn’t bothered by it. And he’s gorgeous, he’s so fucking gorgeous, so tempting. 

He thinks Peter’s watching him a little too.

There’s something wrong about contact between them now. There shouldn’t be, but when they’re curled up together, watching TV; when Peter slides up behind him and hugs him; when Tony leans against his side when he corrects Peter’s work— those touches are off, are too much, too charged. Heavy with a kind of intent that does not belong there. 

Peter doesn’t leave during his next rut. Just stays in his bedroom most of the time, and Tony’s on edge the whole first day despite himself. When Peter emerges every now and then, he follows every move Tony makes, unmistakably hungry. 

Tony should feel hunted, should feel angry and horrified the way he had been the first time Peter looked at him like that. 

Oh, he doesn’t. Stares back at Peter on the second day, challenging. What, that stare says. You want something? Gonna do something about it?

Peter ducks back into his room and hides, but his scent is thicker, coating the inside of Tony’s lungs. He’s not handling this as well as Tony’s managed his heats with Peter in the house. 

Not nearly as good at keeping quiet when he moans Tony’s name either.

The last day— the last day, Tony wakes up and feels sore, heavy. Lies there and thinks, sluggishly, a little too hot, that he really wants to curl up and waste the day on some TV marathon. Really wants to— 

Fuck, he thinks a second later. Oh, fuck; this is… not great.

Peter’s in the hall when Tony comes out of his bedroom. Close, like he was lurking, drawn in by the scent of Tony’s heat, and the scent of Peter, of Peter still in rut, hits Tony so hard he shudders. God, he wants.

“Dad,” Peter says, his voice low, rough. “Dad, this—”

“I know,” Tony says, cutting him off. “I’ll just— I’ll visit Natasha for a few days.”

“No,” and Peter walks—fucking stalks—toward him. Backs him up against the wall, his hands on either side of Tony, trapping him. Tony feels frozen. “I don’t want you to go.”

“That’s just your rut talking,” Tony says. “That’s all.”

Peter shakes his head, slow. “No,” he says. “I’ve heard you, Dad. I know what you want when you’re in heat. I could give it to you.”

Tony swallows, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He should be afraid, he thinks, distantly. He should be worried about what this alpha might do, might try and take, now that he’s got Tony nearly pinned, but— he doesn’t fear Peter. Never will. There’s just… heat, a sharp screaming hunger riding up in him.

“I’ve heard you too, kiddo,” Tony says.

“Dad,” Peter moans, swaying closer, nearly touching him. “Dad, please, please, I want— I know you don’t want an alpha, I know, but I’d be so good. I’d be so, so good for you, I promise.”

It’s too much, too much, and Tony has held out too long. Has stopped being able to beat himself up enough for the things he’s been thinking, for what he wants. “I know,” he says. “I know you’d be so good. Fuck, Peter; you’d be perfect, wouldn’t you. You’d be every last thing I’ve ever wanted in an alpha.”

Peter closes his eyes, letting out a long, shuddering breath. “Let me,” he says, his voice so rough they’re barely words. 

Tony doesn’t even bother to think. “Yes.”

He gets a growl from Peter for that, gets Peter pressing closer and kissing him, his hands all over Tony. Tony hooks his hand around the back of Peter’s neck and pulls him in, holds him there and kisses him deeper, again and again and again. 

“Peter,” he says once Peter’s pulled back a little. “Not here, kiddo. I’m not up for getting knotted anywhere but bed anymore.” Peter moans; yeah, he thought that might catch his attention. He’s still like all alphas in some ways. 

“Why did I even bother getting dressed,” Tony mutters, walking Peter back into his bedroom, shoving him toward the bed. 

Peter’s still watching him, so intently, but a tiny little smile creeps onto his face anyway. “So I could undress you?” he says, and fuck, he’s going to be cute about this. Of course he is; it’s Peter. 

He kisses Peter, hands up under his shirt. “Better get on with it then,” Tony says.

Oh, he’s seen Peter naked plenty of times, across all ages, and he’s sure Peter’s seen him naked a few times too. But this is completely different; this time, they’re looking. This time, they’re touching, and it’s so good, it’s everything Tony’s been wanting for months now, the contact he needs to settle his heat a little. 

They fumble their way onto the bed, tangled up on their sides, Tony’s hand sliding down to Peter’s cock as they kiss, and he loves the way Peter’s breath catches. Peter’s hand curls over Tony’s side, spreads across the curve of his ass, and then hesitates. He presses his fingers down and slips them a little lower, a little closer to Tony’s hole.

“Dad,” Peter says, “can— can I, uh. Before I—” He cuts off with a groan, and it’s adorable. “Oh my god, I’m going to be terrible at this.”

Tony nips at Peter’s lip, at the edge of his chin, teasing. Playful. “You’re going to be perfect,” he says. “And yes. Whatever it is, yes.”

“Fuck,” Peter whispers, and then he’s rubbing his fingers along the cleft of Tony’s ass, right over his hole, spreading around the slick that’s already leakingout. Presses one in slowly, watching Tony, and sure, Tony doesn’t need it but it still feels good to finally have some part of Peter in him. He’s still early enough in his heat that he can let Peter have this without immediately needing more. 

He scrapes his teeth over Peter’s neck, getting a shiver from Peter. “Gonna open me up for your knot?” Tony says, and Peter whimpers. “Come on, kiddo, you can get more than that in there.”

Peter listens, pushing a second finger in so easily, and Tony loves how quick Peter is to obey; how easily, thoughtlessly he does. He’s not going to really challenge Tony in any of this. Is more likely than not going to let him take the lead—ask him to, even—just like he does anytime he runs into something new. He always brings those things to Tony, like he’s certain dad will know what to do. 

His slick is running down Peter’s wrist by the time he’s given in and gone for three, Tony grinding back onto them, his hand slow on Peter’s cock, mouth slow against Peter’s. So sue him if he’s a little distracted. 

“I’m going to need more than that,” Tony says. Pushes Peter over and straddles him, and the way Peter stares up at him is fucking addictive. The way Peter moans when Tony rubs his ass over Peter’s cock, when Tony slides down onto it, is even better.

“Oh fuck,” Peter breathes out. “Dad, you feel so good I can’t even believe it.”

“Feel pretty good yourself, alpha,” and Peter’s fingers dig into his thighs, hard. “You like that, huh?” Peter bites his lip. “Like having an omega all to yourself?”

“Yes,” Peter whispers, and Tony— he was so sure Peter would be good for him, but—

“Do you feel it?” he asks, quieter. “There in the back of your head, looking at me and seeing an omega?” Peter’s breath catches, and Tony settles down on him, grinding slowly. 

“Does it make you want things?” Tony murmurs. “Make you want to just… get me under you, get me pinned and fuck me, make me beg for you knot? Make you want to get your mouth on me, make me bleed and bond me and break me in? Is that what you want, alpha?”

He hopes not, but he has to know before he ends up caught, has to know if the mistake he’s making is just that Peter is his son. Just, he thinks, fuck, just. 

Peter’s staring at him, his hands painfully tight and that dazed, heavy look gone. “No,” Peter whispers. “Dad— no, I don’t. I don’t want— am I going to? Is that what— is that all I can do?” his voice rising, anxious. 

“Oh baby, no,” Tony says, leaning down and kissing him. “Of course not.” Peter’s hands ease on him, and he draws in a shaking breath.

“Good,” he says. “I want— I want other things, not that. I just— I didn’t know, I’ve never—”

“I know,” Tony says. “Aren’t you lucky, getting me for all these firsts.” He raises his ass, starting to ride Peter slow, far slower than he really wants to. “So what do you want, sweetheart?”

Peter shakes his head, without words as twitches under Tony. It’s like getting Peter’s cock in him sets Tony off, brings all that want, that need from his heat back front and center, taking over his brain. “How about this,” Tony says. “This is what you want,” as he fucks down onto Peter, clenches around him. “You want that, want to feel me so tight all around your knot, don’t you,” and Peter groans, his hips jerking up, meeting Tony. “Want to feel me keeping you there, stuck with me.” 

He gets a hand on his cock and Peter’s eyes snap to it, his mouth gaping open as he stares. “You want to be caught by me; you know it’s true,” Tony says. “Want to know I wanted you when I’ve never looked at another alpha.”

“Oh god,” Peter says, “yes, yes, you can catch me, Dad,” and it should sound like the cheesy line it is, like an alpha teasing, pretending they’d hold true to it when they’d been caught good and hard.

It doesn’t. 

Tony’s suddenly desperate for Peter’s knot, the need for it sinking into him and spreading; he presses his hands against Peter’s chest and starts riding him fast and hard, just like he’s wanted to for months. “God, Peter,” he says. “Want you in me, want you to knot me up good.”

“Dad,” Peter whines, “you can’t say that, fuck.”

“No?” Tony says. “I think I can say whatever I want and you’ll love it. And what I want is for you to fill me up, lock so tight not a single drop of come could get past. Come on, kid; show me you can be as good as you promised.”

Peter’s gasping, flushed bright red and thrusting up into Tony frantically. “Gonna,” he manages, and he’s got that glazed, heavy lidded look again, sinking deeper into rut, into the mindless animal hunger of it. 

“Look at you,” Tony says. “Is that all it takes, huh? Telling you how much I want you swelling inside me, stretching me out? All you need to turn into this needy rutting beast?” Peter moans, his fingers leaving bruises on Tony, fucking him hard. “You’re such a slut for an omega hole, aren’t you,” and it’s fucking perfect; he can feel the first swell against his ass, the barest bump of a knot starting.

“Tell me, baby,” Tony asks, “is it better that we’re who we are?”Peter’s staring up at him, hanging on Tony’s every word; Tony leans closer, wants to be sure Peter can hear him over the loud, messy sounds of them fucking. “Do you like it more, knowing you’re going to knot your dad? Gonna come in your dad, breed him?” and he doesn’t need Peter to say anything, not with the way his knot is growing, still sliding in and out of Tony but there’s a little force to it now. 

“I mean, who could possibly know you better,” Tony says. “Or is it more than that, hmm? Do you like knowing that you came from me? Came out of me right where you’re about to come in me?”

Peter jerks so hard, his knot really getting with it now, barely slipping out of him on the next stroke. “Dad,” he gasps. 

“You were always meant for this,” Tony tells him, starting to pant himself. “Meant from the start to be so desperate for me, so needy, just begging for an omega to fuck, to milk you dry,” and it hurts when Peter tries to pull out that time, his knot hitting the point where they’re already stuck together; Peter could come like this—Tony could let him—but it’s not good enough, would just be a waste to have a loose knotting.

“I didn’t even know it,” Tony says, “but I made you to be so fucking filthy, so perverted. I picked the best donor for you, wanted you to be the best you possible could, but you’re even better.” It almost catches, Peter humping against him the limited amount he can, whining pitifully; Tony leans down, pulling on the knot a little, till his face is right over Peter’s. “You need this,” he says, Peter nodding immediately. “Need to be caught so badly, baby. You’re going to wind up being one of those alphas they talk about, that just can’t get enough, can’t ever get enough of being in an omega. It’s going to be so easy to make you knot me again and again, as many times as I want.” 

He laughs suddenly, nearly dizzy with the possibilities that just opened in his mind. Kisses Peter hard, biting his lip. “Think you’ll knock me up?” Tony whispers, pulling back just enough to see Peter’s eyes, wide and dark, shocked. Wanting. “Gonna give me a grandkid to spoil rotten?”

The sound Peter makes at that is incoherent, but the way his knot sinks further into Tony says enough. “Like the thought of that, do you?” Tony says. “Guess we’ll have to keep trying till it works.”

He feels it catch, feels it swell inside him, fucking huge, god. Peter’s got the most perfect alpha cock, the best Tony’s ever had. “That’s it,” he gasps, “fuck, that’s it, kid. Just like that, oh god, you’ve got such a good knot, so hard, ugh!” Feels it twitch as Peter starts to come, as Peter jerks under him, sinking even deeper, settling in and shooting off in Tony. Some distant part of Tony nearly hums with satisfaction. It’s a tight lock, a good breeding; Peter’s going to seed him easily like this. 

That shouldn’t be appealing at all, but it really fucking is, Tony’s cock throbbing in his hand; a few more strokes, another little thought about Peter’s pup, their pup, the best of all possible choices, growing in him, and he’s coming, clenching down hard around Peter’s knot. 

When he sinks down, ass pulling wonderfully at Peter’s knot, Peter wraps his arms around him. Kisses him, slow, messy, pretty fucking out of it, but to be fair, so is Tony. He closes his eyes, shoving his nose into Peter’s neck, mouth over his scent point. Licks at it and Peter moans, turning his own face into the same spot on Tony's neck, breathing hot and humid against it, and Tony wouldn’t say no if Peter bit down right now. 

He won’t because that’s just… not how Peter is, but Tony wouldn’t say no.

Tony squirms on Peter's knot every now and then, unable to help it, needing to remind himself how good it feels, how tight it’s settled. Peter moans every time, clinging tighter. 

“Still okay?” Tony says softly, and Peter tilts his head back, looking at him.

“Yeah,” Peter says, a little slurred, but it looks like he’s hitting a lull in his rut. “I needed you so much, Dad. Wanted you so much. The way you smelled—  I was losing my mind. How could I even look at anyone else when you were there?”

He’s tracing his fingers over Tony's back, slow, mindless circles. “I know you don’t want an alpha,” he says, quieter. “I won’t be all like, super alpha though, I promise.” 

“You’re not an alpha,” Tony tells him. “You’re my alpha.” 

“Fuck,” Peter murmurs, shivering. “Please— I can be your alpha. I can. I will.”

“You will,” Tony says, meaning it, making that commitment without a second thought. “You’re a dream come true, Peter. Perfect, so perfect for me, like no one else ever could be. You’re already mine, already made from me.” 

Peter moans, pressing his face harder into Tony's shoulder. 

They stay like that, drifting a little; it’s a hell of a catch, Peter’s knot not shifting in him even a bit, not shrinking at all. Tony wonders how long it’ll stay. If it’ll be this tight every time. 

He hopes so. Of course his son would do this well too.

It lasts and lasts, and— and Tony’s slipping back into heat, Peter’s knot still just as caught in him as before. God, this is going to be a wild heat. 

“You said,” Tony starts, Peter stirring slightly, “said you’d heard me.” He drags his nails down Peter’s side, slowly, just feeling how he presses up into it. “So were you making sure I heard you? Doing it on purpose?”

“Um,” Peter says. “I— maybe. A little. I mean, I— I didn’t want you to know? I felt so bad about it. But I still… really wanted you to know. Really wanted you to—”

“Wanted me to what?” Tony says, propping himself up a little so he can look at Peter. It might be nearly torture for Peter, but Tony can still get off like this, listening to Peter’s dirty little fantasies. Can still come all over Peter and all around his knot. “What were you thinking when you jacked off and came calling my name?”

“Ohmigod, Dad,” Peter mutters. 

Tony snorts. “Little late to be embarrassed, kiddo.” Twists, clenching at the same time, and Peter groans as his knot gets all that movement. “I wanna hear; entertain me, baby.”

Peter wrinkles his nose, but his arms stay tight around Tony. “I— I was thinking about you—” He takes a deep breath, turning until his face is tucked against Tony’s neck. “Was thinking about you fucking me,” he says, just a little muffled, and that was not quite what Tony was expecting. 

“Yeah?” he says. 

“Yeah,” Peter mumbles. “You— you’d tell me I hadn’t earned the right to knot you yet. That I’d have to work at it, show you how good I could be.”

“Fuck, Peter,” Tony says, squeezing his cock. “How were you supposed to show me that, hmm?”

Peter seems to realize what Tony’s doing then, tucking his head in more and looking down. Reaches down a second later, his fingers brushing over Tony’s, over his cock. “All kinds of ways,” Peter says, wrapping his hand around Tony’s, pressing their fingers between each other’s, slowly stroking Tony’s, using their hands together. “Anything I could think of, Dad. Letting you fuck me anywhere you wanted, any way; blowing you, or sometimes you’d just fuck my face and come all over it,” and Tony groans, hips jerking into their hands and pulling at Peter’s knot in the samemovement. 

“I’d think— I’d think about you tying me up on the bed, to it, telling me alphas couldn’t be trusted,” Peter says, hand moving faster, tighter. “Telling me you’d help me learn, that maybe if I did well enough, you’d ride me like that, still tied up, after you came in me.”

“Jesus,” and it feels so good, this dual sensation, Peter all over him, in him. “You’ve got a filthy mind, baby.” He nips the underside of Peter’s chin, licks it, just barely, and he doesn’t know if Peter will even understand what that means. “I like it, Tony says. “After all, I know where you got it from.” 

Peter huffs out this strangled laugh, his hand tightening around Tony’s cock. Moves faster as he starts talking again, Tony thrusting into it, closer by the moment. “You wouldn’t let me knot you even then,” Peter says. “You’d pull off as soon as I was almost there and make me come like that, play with my knot after until I felt like I was going to cry or pass out or something,” and he probably would. An alpha’s knot is so sensitive, not meant for anything but the warm, soft inside of an omega. 

Tony shudders. “Next time,” he tells Peter, “next time, sweetheart. When—oh, fuck—when I’m not in heat, when I can give you the full attention you should get.” He pants, rocking against Peter, clenching tight around him. “I’ll make you knot like that when I’m not in heat, because you haven't earned that yet, have you. God, I can’t fucking wait, wanna see what you’ve got in me.” 

He’s close, so close, Peter breathing heavy against his neck. “I should— Peter, baby, please.”

“Should what,” Peter whispers.

“Should get you like that,” Tony says, his eyes closing, right on the edge. “Get your knot popped and then compare you to some of my aids. See what you’re closest too and fuck you with that one.”

“Fuck,” Peter says, shaky. “I— I know I’m bigger than most, you’d have to— I don’t know if I could take one that big,” and Tony’s coming, squirming on Peter’s cock and twitching in Peter’s hand. 

Peter’s knot might have gone down a bit, he thinks as he lies on Peter, his brain most static and white noise. Just a few things, circling round and round— wait.

“Bigger than most?” Tony says. “How would you know, huh? You haven’t even seen the size of what I get in me.” 

It’s cute how Peter blushes, avoiding his gaze like he can pretend Tony isn’t there while he’s literally stuck on Peter’s cock. “Uh, I—” He squeezes his eyes shut, the rest coming out in a rush of words. “I snuck in once and found them and maybe played with them a little and that’s how I know.”

“You— you little perv,” Tony says, but it’s delighted. “Shit, Peter. That’s— I wanna say I can’t believe it, but boy can I. So what, you borrowed them for a bit? Or did you get off in my room and do your little comparison there?”

“Ahhh,” Peter moans, so embarrassed, but he brought this on himself. “It— it was when you went off to that conference overnight.” 

“So it was in my bed.”

“Maybe,” Peter says. “But, uh. Yeah. I did that, so I do know that I’m bigger than all of them except the new one, so—”

“Wait,” Tony cuts in. “Wait wait wait. New one? New one? Peter Benjamin Stark, that was not a one time experiment, was it.” Peter’s got his face hidden, an arm thrown over it like that’s any actual protection. “How else would you know that any of them are new, hmmm? Unless you just happened to see what was there before I got it and after.”

He pushes at Peter’s arm until he can see one eye; waits. Peter opens it, eventually, squinting at him. “You sneaky slut,” Tony says. “You went back for more, didn’t you. How many times?” 

Peter shakes his head, his face flaming red. “Too many,” he mumbles. 

Tony opens his mouth, about to demand more details, when Peter’s knot slips. He shudders, feeling it get smaller by the second, sliding out of him and leaving him feeling empty. “Ugh,” he groans, and clings to Peter a little, Peter gasping sharply. 

Oh, he feels gross, god. A hot shower sounds amazing, but that would require standing, and walking, and just in general moving and all of that sounds awful. He sighs against Peter’s collarbone. “So which one was your favorite?”

“What?”

He nips Peter, lightly, but Peter still jumps. “Which heat aid?” he says. “I know you probably tried them all.” 

“They— uh, I— it’s—” It’s almost painful to listen to like this; Tony takes pity on him.

“I just wanted to find out which one I should use, when I get you knotted on one while you’re still caught in me. That’s all, baby,” Tony says. Grins. “But I can just pick one, if that’s easier.” Peter makes a helpless little sound. “How about the one that expands?” Tony asks. “Or— what about the one with a tube; I could fill it up and make it squirt in you. Could lick it back out of you after, even. What do you think?”

“Daaaaad,” Peter whines. “You— I can’t— oh god, whatever you want, please.”

Tony laughs at him. “You really are a slut for this,” he says, tilting his head up and kissing Peter. “Love you, kiddo.” 

“I’d like any of it,” Peter says. “Anything you wanted from me. Anything at all; I love you too, Dad, so much.”

“I know,” Tony says. God, he knows. This— if Peter hadn’t loved him, maybe he might have been able to hold out longer. 

If Peter hadn’t loved him, this would have gone so much worse. He sure as hell wouldn’t be kissing Peter right now, warm and soft. Wouldn’t be nipping at Peter’s scent point, teasing, pestering him until Peter huffs and squirms away. Wouldn’t have Peter following when Tony rolls off him, flops over again onto his stomach, face buried in his arms. Stretches a little, and Peter’s hands are on him, stroking down his side, over his head. Peter’s mouth is on him, trailing kisses across his shoulders, lingering for a moment at Tony’s scent point, darting out his tongue to taste it. 

Peter’s hand wanders lower, practically groping at Tony’s ass. Not that Tony can blame him for being tempted, but there’s something— he’s not sure it’s entirely sane, the wave of humor that hits him at the thought of it. Maybe just a little hysterical, he decides, and he’s going to blame that completely on his heat. It’s always made him overreact. 

“Dad?”

“Mmm?”

“Can— would it be okay—”

“Peter,” Tony says. “I told you. Yes. Whatever it is, yes. Carte blanche, kiddo.” 

Peter huffs. Mutters to himself, something Tony can’t quite make out, and then, at the end, “Fine.”

Fine what, Tony wonders. Peter’s hands are on his ass, spread across each cheek and pulling him open as Peter shifts on the bed, settling between Tony’s legs; maybe that was it, maybe Peter wanted to look. 

Or not, oh, god, Tony jerking as Peter licks up the cleft of his ass, stopping right before Tony’s hole. Pulls back and licks another line up, a little to the side of that, and it takes Tony entirely too long to realize Peter’s licking up the come that’s dripped down Tony’s ass. Can he be blamed, really, for being a little distracted by the wet, soft heat of his son’s tongue there, of all places?

“Fuck,” Tony gasps. “What the hell, baby, what—”

Peter pulls back, his breath hot against Tony’s skin when he answers. “I was going to ask,” Peter says, just a little sharp. “But noooo—”

“I’m not regretting that,” Tony says. “Just— Jesus, kid!” as Peter presses his mouth against Tony’s hole, licking at it. 

He doesn’t bother with words after that. It’s easier, better, to focus on the feel of Peter’s tongue against his skin, all along his rim and inside, firm and soft and wetter by the second as Tony starts slicking up again; he doesn’t know if Peter’s going to be able to keep up with it. 

So much better to dig his head and his knees into the bed and push up into Peter’s touch, into his mouth. Peter lets him, waits until Tony’s settled in and then keeps him there, his arms hooked around Tony’s thighs, hands on his ass. Buries his face as deep as he can and laps at Tony, eager and fucking hungry. Tony can feel every touch, every breath, every moan Peter makes, and he’s getting pretty noisy himself. “God, Peter,” Tony manages at one point, “where the hell did you learn this?”

Peter barely pulls back enough to answer. “Didn’t,” he says. “I just— wanted to.” Dives back in and Tony groans. 

“You’re filthy, that’s what you are,” Tony tells him. “Fucking nasty, baby. Of course you’re a natural at this, you— oh fuck, right there, kiddo, right— yeah, keep it up.” He’s not sure if he can come from this—hell, if he can even come again so soon—but he’s going to try. 

“It’s— it’s just ingrained in you, isn’t it,” Tony says. “Down to your bones, buried so deep, that you’re a slut,” and Peter moans into Tony’s skin. “Such a slut, such a good fucking slut, hungry for slick; you’re a disgrace of an alpha, you know that?” 

That gets him a huff, and then a hand on his cock. Tony almost tells him no, almost insists on testing this, but it feels so good and he just wants to come. He’s past caring how, just— “Come on kid,” Tony gasps, “come on, show me what you can do.” 

Peter keeps licking after Tony’s come, lighter, softer, but still going even when Tony starts squirming, too sensitive and worn out. “Peter,” he whines. “Baby, ugh, stoppit. I know you’re a slut for slick but enough.” 

There’s one more broad, long swipe of Peter’s tongue and then he’s pulling back. “It’s not my fault you taste good,” Peter says, and Tony laughs. 

Turns a little to look over his shoulder at Peter and doesn’t regret it; Peter’s face is red, his lips even redder, wetness smeared all over his mouth and chin and cheeks. Spit or slick or come, it doesn’t matter. “You think it tastes good because it tastes like you?” he asks, idly, watching Peter lick his lips.

“What,” Peter says, staring down at Tony’s sill spread open ass. “Because it’s my come I’m eating out of you?”

Tony snorts and Peter gives him a confused look. “No, dumbass,” Tony says, Peter scowling, “because you’re half me. More than half, technically.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, actually rolls his eyes, god. “Or maybe you just taste good, Dad,” he says, wiping the back of his hand over his chin.

“Well, come on,” Tony says. Crooks his finger at Peter when he frowns. “Let me have a taste, then.” 

Peter’s mouth drops open, and then he’s crawling up over Tony, making things difficult as Tony tries to turn over at the same time. Kisses him, pressing his tongue into Tony’s mouth, and honestly, Tony doesn’t care what any of it tastes like. Just wants this, Peter’s lips on his. 

“You know,” Peter says when he pulls away. “You’re kind of a slut too, Dad,” and the laugh slips out of Tony before he even thinks about it. 

“Guess it just runs in our genes,” he tells Peter.

“Yeah,” Peter says, nuzzling up to him. “I guess I had to get it from somewhere.” 

“Guess you did,” Tony says, and— maybe no one will ever understand, but this was the right choice. Peter was the right choice, was the alpha he’s been holding out for all this time. 

Of course he’d ended up carrying the perfect alpha for himself. This was always meant to be. 

“Love you, baby,” Tony tells him, soft, almost a whisper against Peter’s skin. 

“Love you, Dad,” Peter whispers back, and that’s what really matters, isn’t it.

*

AO3

[rallamajoop]

...and the unironic joys of better living through chemistry

How do I love Venom: The Hunger, let me count the ways…

It’s by far the shippiest Venom/Eddie story to come out of the character’s heyday. It’s the only story of the era to treat Venom’s violent wild-animal instincts not as an immutable fact, but as something that can be managed. It pulls off an aesthetic like nothing else that was being done at the time.

And then there’s the way it says, Does the world around you seem sinister and foreboding? Do you lie awake at night contemplating metaphorical oceans of despair? Well shit, son – have you considered you may be suffering from a mundane neurochemical imbalance, and a round of the right meds could clear that right up for you?

It does all this without breaking the atmosphere, without a whiff that our story has been interrupted for a Very Special Message about mental health.

In the near-decade since I was first prescribed anti-depressants, I don’t think I’ve read another story that lands the message “Sometimes, it’s not you, it’s just your brain chemistry,” so well.

Fair warning: if you have not read The Hunger, I am about to spoil every major plot point. If you have, well, maybe I can still give you a new appreciation for a few details you might have missed.

It’s a strange book, whatever else you take from it. It’s almost the only thing either author or artist contributed to the Venom canon, and it’s so different stylistically and tonally from the 90′s Venom norm that it feels like a tale from some noir-elseworlds setting instead of 616 canon. When you take risks that big with a property, you leave yourself precious little landing space between 'unmitigated triumph’ and ‘abject failure’: if this book hadn’t absolutely nailed it, I’d be dismissing it as edgy, OOC dreck. Fortunately, if The Hunger is nothing else, it is a story that $&#@ing commits – to basically everything it does.

Now, I'm not going to tell you Venom: The Hunger is a story about overcoming depression, because I don't know whether author Len Kaminski even thought about it that way while working on it. There's always space for other readings, and this one take is not gospel. That said: holy shit is this thing unsubtle with its metaphors. And with that in mind, let’s start by talking a little about Kaminski’s take on Eddie himself.

As I may have mentioned before, I like to divide 90′s Eddie into two broad personas: the Meathead, and the Hobo.

Kaminski’s Eddie nominally belongs in the angsty, long-haired Hobo incarnation, but that’s a bit of a simplification: this version certainly has plenty of angst and plenty of hair to his name – but nowhere, not even at his lowest ebb, does he doubt that he and his Other are meant for each other, which is usually Hobo!Eddie’s primary existential quandary.

He’s also taken up narrating his own life like a hardboiled PI.

So that’s... novel.

The only other time Eddie’s sounded like this is, er, in that one other Venom one-shot Kaminski penned (Seed of Darkness, a prequel that sadly isn’t in The Hunger’s league), so I think we can safely file it under authorial ticks.

Then again, Hobo!Eddie’s always been one melodramatic SOB, so maybe this is just how he’d sound after learning to channel his angst into his poetry. You can’t argue it fits the aesthetic, anyway.

We’d also be remiss not to mention Ed Halsted’s art, which I can only describe as gothic-meets-noir-meets-H.R.-Giger. Never before or since has the alien symbiote looked this alien: twisted with Xenompoph-like ridges and veins.

But Halsted doesn’t treat Venom to all that extra detail in every panel. Instead, the distortion tends to appear when the symbiote is separated from Eddie or out of control – and I doubt you need me to walk you through the symbolic importance of that creative decision. More importantly, Halsted’s art provides exactly the class of visuals that Kaminski’s story needs.

Did I mention this is a horror story? You might be surprised how few Venom stories really fit that genre, but if all those adjectives about Halsted’s style above didn’t clue you in, this is one of them.

Anyway, with that much context covered, let’s get into the main narrative of this thing.

As our first issue opens, Eddie’s world has become a dark and foreboding place. He’s not sleeping, though he mostly brushes this off. (Fun fact: trouble sleeping is one of those under-appreciated symptoms of depression. Additional fun fact: the first doctor ever to suggest I might be suffering from depression was actually a sleep specialist. You can guess how that appointment was going.)

Just to set our scene, here’s all of page 1.

Eddie’s narration has plenty of (ha) venom for his surroundings, but the visuals are here to back him up: panels from Eddie’s POV are edged in twisted, fleshy borders and drained of colour, the people rendered as creepy, goblin-like creatures. A couple of later scenes go even further to contrast Eddie-vision with what everyone else is seeing:

As depictions of depression go this is a little on the nose, but then, you don’t read a comic about a brain-eating alien parasite looking for subtlety, do you?

Eddie  doesn’t see himself as depressed, of course. As far as he’s concerned, he’s seeing the world’s true face: it’s everyone else who’s deluding themselves. He’s still got his symbiote, so he’s happy. He’s yet to hit that all-important breaking point where something he can’t brush off goes irrevocably wrong.

But he’s also starting to experience these weird... cravings.

He just can’t put a name to exactly what he’s craving until a routine bar fight with a couple of thugs takes a turn for the horrific.

(I include this panel partly to point out even in The Hunger, the goriest of all 90′s Venom titles, you’re still not going to see brains getting eaten in any graphic detail. We don’t need to to get the horror of the moment across. The 90′s were a more innocent time.)

Eddie himself is horrified when he comes back to himself and realises what he’s done.

Or rather, what his symbiote’s just made him do.

Kaminski doesn’t keep us in suspense about why, though. Eddie may have just done something horrific, but there’s a reason, and it’s as mundane as a vitamin deficiency. He’s bonded to an alien creature, after all, and his symbiote is craving a nutrient which just happens to be found in human brains. And if Eddie can’t or won’t help it meet that need, it’ll do so alone. 

Now, giving us that explanation so quickly is an interesting creative decision: this is a horror story, and horror lives in what we don’t know. Wouldn’t it be all the more horrifying had the symbiote been unable to explain what’s going on, leaving Eddie without the first real clue as to where this monstrous new hunger had come from?

The Hunger doesn’t take that route though, and I love it. Eddie isn’t a monster, this isn’t his fault: he has a fucking condition, and wallowing in his own moral failings is going to get him nowhere. You might as well try to cure scurvy or rickets with positive thinking. Just like depression can make you feel like an utter failure at the most basic parts of being human, and all the affirmations in the world won’t fix it when it’s fundamentally your brain chemistry that’s the problem. Or like addicts aren’t weak-willed for struggling not to relapse, they’re dealing with genuine chemical dependency – or even like how someone who’s trans isn’t at fault for being unable to reconcile themselves to the bodies and the hormones they were born with by pure force of trying. Free will is more than an illusion, but we’re all messy, biological organisms underneath, and your own brain and biochemistry can and will fuck you over in a hundred wildly different ways for as many wildly different reasons and it’s not your fault.

We aren’t monsters. But if we do, sometimes, find ourselves identifying with the monster, there might be a reason for that.

(Ahem)

I’m just saying, that’s fucking powerful, and we need more stories that say it.

Anyway, in case you missed it during that tangent, issue #1 closes with the symbiote having torn Eddie’s heart in two itself free to go hunting brains without him.

I’m trying not to get too sidetracked at this point talking about Kaminski’s take on the symbiote itself. Suffice to say there are broadly two schools of thought on how it ought to function while separated from its host: the traditional ambulatory-slime-puddle version, and the more recently popular alternative where anything-you-can-do-with-a-host-you-can-also-do-without-one. I’m not much of a fan of the latter, personally: if your symbiote doesn’t actually need a host, I feel you’ve sort of missed the point. (The movie takes the route of saying symbiotes can’t even process Earth’s atmosphere without a host, which is a great new idea that appears nowhere in the comics, and I love it. Hosts or GTFO, baby!)

Kaminski has his own take, and I can only wish it had caught on. Without Eddie, the symbiote becomes an ever-shifting insectoid-tentacle-snake-monstrosity, driven by an animalistic hunger. It’s many things, but it’s never humanoid.

If you absolutely must have your symbiote operating minus a host, I feel this is the way to do it: semi-feral, shapeless and completely alien (uncontrollable violence and cravings for brains to be added to taste).

Issue #2 comes to us primarily through the perspective of the mild-mannered Dr. Thaddeus Paine of the Innsmouth Hills Sanitarium (yes, really).

Yeah, he’s not fooling anyone. Meet our official villain! He joins our story after Eddie is picked up by the police and handed off to the nearest available institution, on account of how completely sane and rational he’s been acting.

Naturally, Dr. Paine soon has copious notes on Eddie’s ‘crazy’ story about his psychic link to a brain-eating alien monster. Fortunately for Eddie, Paine also runs some tests and makes an interesting discovery. 

Congratulations, Venom: the ‘vitamin’ you were missing officially has a name!

Finding the right meds isn’t always this easy. I got lucky – the first ones my psych put me on worked pretty well – but I have plenty of friends who weren't so lucky. In fact, the treatment for Eddie's problems is so straightforward it arguably has more in common with, say, endocrine disorders like thyroid conditions or Addison’s disease, which differ from clinical depression but present many similar symptoms (but can sadly be just as much of a bitch to get correctly diagnosed – please do read author Maggie Stiefvater’s account of the latter when you get the chance, because forget Venom, that is a horror story).

‘True’ depression remains much less well understood by medicine, either in its causes or how to effectively treat it. But simply having a name for what was wrong with me made so much difference, and that’s an experience I imagine anyone who’s dealt with any long undiagnosed medical condition could relate to. It put my life in context in a way nothing else had in years.

(I can’t speak to the accuracy of the way phenethylamine is portrayed in this comic – a quick google suggests there may be some real debate that phenethylamine deficiencies have been overlooked as a contributor to clinical depression, but having no medical background, that one’s well beyond me. Either way, scientific accuracy really doesn’t matter in this context – it’s how it works in-universe for story purposes that we should pay attention to.)

Since this issue is mostly from Paine’s POV, we don’t get Eddie’s reaction to having a healthy amount of phenethylamine sloshing around in his brain again, just the assurance that treatment appears to be ‘completely successful’.

He’s still a paranoid, hostile bastard though. Meds can turn your life around, but they won’t make you not you.

But even if Eddie’s feeling better, he’s still psychically linked to someone who isn’t. Symbiote-vision still comes through drained of colour and edged in viscera.

That’s the thing about meds: they won’t solve all your problems overnight. If you’ve been depressed for a while, there are good odds you have problems stacking up. But working meds can be a godsend when it comes to getting you into a space where you can deal with your problems again, whether said problems are doing-your-laundry or all the way into not-giving-up-completely-and-just-accepting-you’ll-die-alone-on-the-street.

For Eddie, ‘dealing with his problems’ begins with stealing a keycard and busting out of the asylum.

Of course, that’s the easy part. How do you solve a problem like a feral symbiote? Like any good 90′s comic book protagonist, Eddie tackles it by putting on his big-boy camouflage pants and kitting himself out with weapons and pouches while quoting “If you live something, set it free. If it doesn’t come back, hunt it down.”

We can add this to the list of things I love about this comic. Even if The Hunger is a weirdly-stylistic tract about depression at heart, it’s also still a goddamn 90′s Venom comic, and not ashamed to be.

We’re into issue #3 now, and back to hearing the story from Eddie’s POV.

Eddie is very much aware that his symbiote has murdered innocent people while they’ve been separated. Even if this is the result of extreme circumstances, there’s a good case to be made that the symbiote is too dangerous to be allowed to live. Plenty of heroes would treat it like a rabid dog at this point.

But Eddie isn’t a hero, he’s a mess of a character and an anti-hero at best, so we don’t have to hold him to the same standard. He’s well aware his symbiote may be too far gone to save, that he may have to put it down – but that’s only his backup plan. He wants to help it. He wants it back. He’s down in that sewer with screamers and a flamethrower because he knows all his symbiote’s weaknesses, but he’s also carrying a large jar of black-market synthesised phenethylamine, because if he can just get close enough...

Depression can’t make you a literal monster, but it can make you an asshole. Miserable to be around, lacking even the energy to care who else you’re hurting. The depression doesn’t excuse that, but it makes everything harder, and it’s that much easier to sink back into your spiral when everyone around you has given up. It can make you think everyone around has given up even if that isn’t true.

So to have Eddie here say, in effect, I don’t care how many people you’ve eaten, I know it wasn’t your fault. I still love you. You’re still worth fighting for – god, does that get me right in the id.

There’s still a whole issue left at this point – we’ve still got to deal with our real villain, Dr. Paine, who we’ve just learned is into eating brains himself and torturing his patients recreationally, and who wants to capture the symbiote for his own purposes. There’s the scene where Eddie and his symbiote finally bond again, and Venom beats up all Paine’s goons while singing David Bowie because like I said, this is still a 90′s superhero comic and this is what Venom does.

But for our purposes, I'm going to skip to the penultimate page of the story, because the way it mirrors our opening page is really lovely.

Remember that shot of Eddie dealing with a beggar back at the beginning of the story, thinking about how these people would 'get their despair all over you'? Here he is again, cheerfully forking over the last dollar in his pocket to the next man to ask him for change. For all the gothic atmosphere and gore, it’s moments like this that make The Hunger easily one of the most positive, uplifting Venom stories ever written. Funny, that. (I could probably write a whole other essay on sympathy for the homeless as a recurring motif in Venom stories, but that... well, whole other essay and all that.)

What’s Eddie learned from this experience? Don’t take your symbiote for granted. Is ‘symbiote’ a metaphor for mental health here, is paying attention to its needs an allegory for paying attention to your own? I still don’t know how literally Kaminski meant us to take this, but it’s a lovely note to end on no matter how you parse it.

At the end of the day, The Hunger isn’t flawless. The conflict with Paine ends on a thematic but slightly unsatisfying note. Eddie makes much of his symbiote's loneliness and desire for union, but when the two of them are finally reunited, the only reaction comes from Eddie's side. In fact, the symbiote seems to have no response to being able to return to Eddie at all, and that’s an omission that bugs me.

But Kaminski is more interested than any other writer of the era in the truly alien nature of the symbiote, in its relationship with Eddie from Eddie’s side, and though plenty of others talk about the symbiote's love/hate relationship with Spider-man, no-one else had the guts to portray their relationship this much like a romance.

And Venom: The Hunger is no less interesting in the context of Len Kaminski’s other work. You don't have to look far into his Marvel and DC credits to pick up that the guy has a real thing for monsters. (“All of my favourite characters are outlaws, misfits, anti-heroes,” he says, in one of the very few interviews I could find with him, “I wouldn't know what to do with Superman.”) He's written for vampires, werewolves, victims of mad science, and all of three at once, littering his work with biochemistry-themed technobabble, melodramatic monologues, gratuitous pop-culture references, and protagonists who must learn to embrace their inner demons. So The Hunger represents more than a few of his favourite running themes.

For our context, his more notable other work includes Children of the Beast, in which a werewolf must make peace between his human and animalistic sides, and The Creeper, in which a journalist must make peace with the crazy super-powered alter-ego sharing his body. In fact, The Creeper and The Hunger share so much DNA (including an evil doctor posing as a respected psychiatrist who uses hypnosis on our hero while he's trapped in a mental institution) that it’s quite the achievement that they still feel like such very distinct entities beyond that point.

The human alter-egos of both werewolf and Creeper even use prescription meds while wrestling with their respective dark sides. The difference, in both cases, is that these are stories where meds play their traditional fictional role – and that's a role that could be as easily filled by illegal drugs or alcohol without making any substantive difference. You see, if a protagonist is using them, it's a sign of unwillingness to tackle their 'real' problems. Even among work by the same author in the same genre, The Hunger represents an outlier. And that's just a little disappointing – at least to me.

In real life, of course, prescription meds are no magical cure-all elixir. Depression meds that work for one person may not work for another, or may not keep working in the longer term. Everyone has heard stories about quack doctors who prescribe them to the wrong patients for the wrong reasons, about lives ruined by addictions to prescription painkillers, or the supposedly-damning statistics about how poorly SSRI's perform in rigorous clinical trials. The proper way to treat depression is obviously with lifestyle and therapy. People will still airily dismiss medications that we all know previous generations got along just fine without, or suggest that figures like Van Gogh would never have created great art if they hadn't been mad enough to slice off an ear. I mean, the fact you think you need those bogus mediations is probably the best possible sign of just how broken you are, right? Who do you think you’re kidding?

Our popular fiction loves stories about manly men who bury their trauma under a gruff, anti-social exterior and come back swinging at the world that broke them, bravely refusing even painkillers that might dull their manly reflexes. Other genres make space for broken people confronting their demons in grand moments of catharsis, finally breaking down into tears when someone gets through to make them face their problems. "I could barely make it out of bed in the mornings until I found a doctor who started me on this new prescription" is not only wildly counter to the accepted social narrative, it's a hard thing to know how to dramatise.

 Even other Venom comics have been guilty of this.

Believe me, I recognise all of this, and just how much progress we've made in the last few decades. But I haven't the slightest doubt that for so many vulnerable people, the stigma against prescription medications does infinitely more harm than those same meds could ever do. And just having the right to externalise my problems into it's not you, it's your brain chemistry, may have helped me more than the meds themselves.

(And again, no, being prescribed SSRI's didn't fix me overnight, but I honestly don't know if all the talk therapy and tearful conversations with family members in the world could've got me as far as I've come without them.)

I love Venom: The Hunger. It's no-one's idea of high art, but it doesn’t need to be. There is a whole other post’s worth of things I love about it that I’ve already cut out this one as pointless tangents, and that may actually be it’s biggest drawback as a go-to example: I fully recognise that I would not be making this post if The Hunger hadn't also also grabbed me as a great bit of Venom canon, being the massive fan and shipper that I am. Other people who are just as desperate as me for more stories with the same core theme, but not into weird 90's comics about needy goo aliens, probably won't get nearly as much out of it as I have.

But if it sounds anything like your jam, maybe you'll enjoy it as much as I did.

If nothing else, it proves that you can make a viscerally satisfying story out of a message that shockingly unconventional. And you may even have people still discovering it and falling in love with it 25 years after the fact.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 4: The Star Spangled Man With A Plan

Summary: As the SSR deals with the aftermath of the attempted theft of the serum by Hydra, Steve finds himself side-lined until he’s offered a golden opportunity to help fight the good fight…but it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be as he quickly finds out.  

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  Once again, huge thanks to my beta readers and plugger of mind gaps where I was blocked… @southerngracela and @icanfeelastormbrewing

Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

SSR Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist 

“Absolutely not!” Katie blazed her hands on her hips “That is NOT what Erskine was going to do.”

“Well Erskine isn’t here is he, in case it had escaped your notice.” Phillips bit back “And neither is the serum after the last vial of it was smashed out on Brooklyn Pier.”

Steve sighed, his head bowing a little.

“Erskine said that post the transformation he was supposed to be monitored for twenty-four hours before he did any major physical activity.” Katie continued, “Given that, and what just happened, you seriously want to take his blood?”

“She has a point.” Howard stepped in. “Personally I’m not sure it’s wise. Private Rogers should be given the rest of the day at least under observation as was the original plan, where we can run the physical tests Abe had been planning to do.”  He took a deep breath and bowed his head slightly.

“We owe it to him to do this right.” Katie spoke again, her voice loaded with emotion as she turned her eyes to the Colonel. He gave a little groan, dragging his hand down his face “We can take the samples tomorrow.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve spoke, surprising himself with his sudden forthright nature and Katie turned to him.

“No.” She said simply, turning back to Phillips. Steve’s eyebrows shot up and he turned to look at Howard who was silently chuckling at his sister’s bossy nature. He gave a little shrug of his shoulders, and then his brown eyes turned back to watch as Katie stood looking at Phillips expectantly.

“You know, I’m beginning to rue the day I ever asked you two to join this team.” The Colonel shot and Steve watched as Katie turned to Howard, smirking. “And wipe that look off of your face right now Agent.”

“Sir.” She nodded, and then everyone’s attention was taken by Agent Carter as she walked back into the room.

“We have it sir.” She nodded, “The Hydra Sub. It’s in the Tech Lab.”

“You wanna wait until tomorrow to work on that too, you know, give that time to recover as well or…”

“You know they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” Howard arched an eyebrow as he looked at Phillips, “But I prefer to think of it as a metric for potential. You’ll be a great man someday, Colonel Phillips.”

Katie’s shoulders began to shake and she turned back towards Steve who was watching the scene play out in front of him, utterly perplexed. He still couldn’t get his head round her blatant disregard for her Commanding Officer’s authority. Howard, well, he could understand that a little more as he wasn’t in the man’s chain of command but Katie was. And she seriously didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Do we have any more intel on Schmidt?” Phillips turned to Peggy who blinked and looked at him.

“No, Sir. Nothing.” She took a deep breath, “But I think after today it’s safe to say that was another thing Dr. Erskine was correct about. Schmidt clearly has ambitions beyond simply being Hitler’s Chief Scientist. I think we should consider the fact that he’s equally, if not more dangerous.”

At that Steve heard Erskine’s words from the previous night as clear and as loud as if the man were speaking them to him in person. “Schmidt must become that superior man.” He cleared his throat a little and felt all eyes in the room turn to him.

“I think Agent Carter is right, Sir.” Steve took a deep breath “Last night, Dr Erskine was explaining to me about Schmidt. He said that Schmidt is convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, waiting to be found...”

“So he’s bonkers.” Phillips looked at Steve “Terrific.”

“You know, we have forces out there fighting the Nazis.” Katie pondered for a moment, “Maybe the SSR needs to concentrate on Hydra.”

Phillips looked at Katie, “You wanna chase Hydra?”

She shrugged, “It seems logical to me. A lunatic he maybe, but he clearly has a vast amount of followers that buy into the same Rhetoric. That makes them dangerous.”

“And let’s not forget, Hydra is, or was, Hitler’s deep science department. Now, Steve stopped them from getting the vial of Erskine’s completed formula, but who knows what else they have in their grasp.” Peggy added, “I saw a lot of things when I was under, a lot of things that if perfected could be disastrous. We chose to concentrate on Hitler as he had control of Hydra. But, if Schmidt is going rogue as we suspect, then I’m afraid Sir, that as Agent Stark suggests,  he could prove to be far more dangerous.”

“Just what we need.” Howard groaned, “Two enemies to be fighting.”

“Oh pur-lease.” Katie looked at him. “Like you’re doing any actual fighting.”

“Shut up.” Howard glared at her, “You know as well as I do that I was plucked out for this instead of going to the front lines, just like you were.”

“The pair of you can take your squabbles outside.” Phillips looked at them, “I’m done. I need to brief Senator Brandt.” With that he turned to Peggy “Get onto base and tell them they need to get into the President, inform him of our intentions so that he can approve them. You…” he then looked at Howard, “Take a look at that sub, see what we’re dealing with from a technology point of view. And you…” he looked at Katie, then to Steve, then back again. “Take Rogers for whatever observations it was Erskine had set up. Then I suggest you all get a good night’s sleep. Back here at Zero-Six Hundred.”

With that he swept from the room leaving the four of them. Steve turned to Katie, his arms folded.

“You know, I don’t need a load of tests to tell you I’m fine.” He looked at her, “In fact, I’m more than fine. I feel…well, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“That maybe but, well, I’d feel better if you went along with it, please.”

“Oh, she’s serious Rogers.” Howard smirked, “She said the magic word.”

At that Katie turned to glare at her brother, who held her gaze, his expression not faltering in the slightest. She threw him a positively filthy look before she turned back to Steve and he looked at her as she once more began to speak. “Erskine wanted to make sure that everything was okay, monitor the effects properly at least for twenty-four hours. We have no idea if it’s permanent, what it’s actually doing to you, whether the effects and transformation is still on going…”

“Okay, okay.” Steve held his hand up, giving her a nod, “Fine, I’ll submit for monitoring. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Could someone please find me something to eat?” He looked around, his stomach giving a huge growl at the perfect moment to emphasise his point, “I’ve never been this hungry in my life, and believe me, I’m no stranger to living with an empty stomach.”

It turns out that Steve’s appetite had increased exponentially too, which was to be expected considering his metabolism was working far faster than it ever had before. He wolfed down a huge helping of Potato and Hot Dog salad, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, an assortment of vegetables and a huge helping of apple pie. He had no idea where Katie had managed to conjure it from, and frankly he didn’t care either. All he knew was that in that one sitting he’d consumed more food than he usually ate in a day.

The rest of the day was taken up with him being poked and prodded and attached to all sorts of strange machines. Howard explained what each of them was for, but he wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was whirring, finally processing what had happened in the last couple of hours. He had been so sure about what was going to happen post getting the serum that he’d be shipped out to help in the fight and now he didn’t have a clue where he was going to go, especially if they were now going to refocus their efforts on Hydra. That said, it was all helping the war effort wasn’t it? Hydra was a huge threat, if he was able to help take them down in any way, shape or form, then he was ok with that.

One of the doctors and Howard started explaining to him what the serum had done and at that point he tuned in to some of it, picking out the odd phrase like “super strength”, “increased stamina”, “enhanced metabolism”, “fast healing”, “super-sharp senses”,  “memory expansion”, “logical improvement”. Howard looked at him and explained that as far as he could see, the transformation was complete, and was as permanent as they could hope. But Erskine had said that the serum wasn’t infallible, therefore how long the effects would last into the future they didn’t know. Forty, maybe fifty years or so. Steve wasn’t particularly bothered about that though, by the time that happened he would be well into his sixties or seventies and would he really care then?

Katie arrived back just as the Doctor who had been dealing with him had instructed the nurse to remove the heart monitor form his chest.

“Hi.” She smiled and Steve turned to face her, fulling intending on greeting her back, but before he could, the doctor made a little noise of surprise.

“What is it?” Howard asked and Steve hastily turned towards them, wondering what was wrong.

“His heart rate just spiked.”

Steve gulped and hastily looked away from Katie as Howard turned to face him. His eyes flicked from Steve, to his sister who was stood in the doorway, a bashful smile on her face but to her credit she held her brother’s gaze as the man gave a groan.

“Seriously?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, stepping into the room. “You done treating him like a guinea pig?”

“Hey, you were the one that insisted on the monitoring!” Howard pointed at her.

“Yes, because it was what Abe wanted.” She shrugged, “And I wanted to make sure everything was okay before you guys started stealing his blood like a pack of starving vampires.”

“Well you needn’t panic.” Howard arched an eyebrow, “The transformation seems to be text book. Your Super Soldier is as ready as can be.”

“Fuck you.” Katie shot back, and Howard gave a chuckle as Steve let out a little groan at the man’s teasing.

“That bad an idea huh, dating my sister?” Howard turned to Steve and he flushed immediately.

“That…no, I didn’t…say that, I mean, not that we…”

“Ignore him Steve, he’s being a jerk.” Katie rolled her eyes. “And if he knows what’s good for him he’ll shut up before I knock his teeth out.”

“Threat received and understood.” Howard held his hands up as the doctor bustled around and handed Steve back his t-shirt.

“You can leave now, Captain Rogers, but we would like you to stay here tonight.”

“Why?” Steve frowned as he pulled the SSR logo t-shirt over his head.

“Because I want to monitor your levels at complete rest.” The doctor smiled, “Humour me, please.”

Steve shrugged as he swung his legs off the bed. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be.

“Your stuff is being brought over from the barracks.” Katie smiled softly. 

“Any idea on where I’ll be going after that?” Steve stood up carefully, taking his time to pull himself up to his new full height.

“Nope.” She shrugged, “I suppose it depends on what Colonel Phillips and the President agree. I suspect we’ll head over to London HQ if we’re going after Hydra in Europe, but we should find out tomorrow morning.”

“So, we have a free evening?” Howard looked at Katie.

“Well, sort of. Unless you want to get a head start on that Hydra submarine thing.” She waved her hand at the door.

“I don’t need a head start.” Howard shrugged, somewhat arrogantly, “I’m a genius, I’ll crack it tomorrow.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “You know I really admire your modesty.”

Howard chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, what I was suggesting was that if we do have a free few hours, how about a drink? I got a bottle of vintage Macallan stashed in my lab.” He paused and Steve watched as his shoulders slumped a little and he took a deep breath before he looked back up at both Steve then to his sister. “Me and Abe had been saving it for tonight."

Katie took a deep breath before she walked over to her brother who wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, gently kissing the top of her head. Steve looked away for a second, not wanting to intrude on the moment as he watched the doctor and nurse leave the room.

“We should have a toast to him,” Katie spoke, her voice cracking a little as she stepped away from Howard. She turned to Steve and smiled, “He’d have been proud this had worked.”

Steve nodded a little side smile pulling at his mouth as he remembered the banter he and Erskine had shared about the schnapps. With a nod he looked at Katie, the smile spreading further across his face, “He owed me a drink.”

 It was a strange night.

The three of them had shared a glass each of the smooth whiskey, which Steve had thoroughly enjoyed. It had tasted so smooth yet crisp. And he wasn’t sure if that was down to the fact it was stupidly expensive and high end, or the fact his taste-buds simply worked better. Howard hadn’t raised the issue of he and Katie again, for which Steve was glad. If he had been asked, he couldn’t say how he would have answered because he wasn’t entirely sure what they were. A casual fling? A hook up? He knew what he wanted it to be, but once again he was brought crashing back to reality. They were in the middle of a war. It was impossible.  

Despite the myriad of thoughts and emotions running through his mind, Steve slept better than he had ever slept in his life. His chest wasn’t bad, he didn’t struggle for breath when he lay down flat meaning that for the first time he could remember he didn’t need to sleep propped up. Yet, on the other hand, he felt like he was waking up every five or ten minutes. The slightest sound or movement made by the various SSR staff nurses and guards milling around the small medical wing of the lab woke him thanks to his now enhanced, fine tuned senses. The doctors and Howard had assured Steve that whilst it might take a while but once he was used to the heightening of his senses it would start to feel ‘normal’ to him in a way and he would learn to use them and appreciate them.

With a yawn, he cracked his head side to side as he raised it off the pillow. Whilst he didn’t know what time it was thanks to the lack of any natural light in the room, he knew that this time he wasn’t getting back to sleep. He climbed from his bed, stretched and waited for the usual pain to shoot down his back, but nothing. He then stood up, a little too fast and pitched forward before he steadied himself and drew up to his full new height, squaring his now broad shoulders back as he stood tall in his new posture. Again, Howard had told him he would soon learn to adjust his movements to compensate for the fact that he no longer needed to put as much effort into them. No sooner had he done that, a nurse appeared with his breakfast and she was followed by Agent Carter who wished him a good morning and then handed him a formal Army Uniform in his new size. With a soft smile and a thanks, he took it before laying it down on the bed, admiring the green wool and crisp shirt. 

“When you’re ready then we’d like to take the blood samples.” Peggy spoke softly, “But there’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Rather just get it over and done with Ma’am.” Steve said politely and truthfully. The sooner he was done being prodded, poked and stabbed the sooner he could find out what was going on.

With that in mind he ate, washed up, dressed and was ready in half an hour flat. He was led out of the bunk room he’d been sleeping in and down the corridor back to the observation room he’d been in the previous day where he was instructed to roll up his sleeves and lay back as they proceeded to siphon off his blood. When they had one bag full they then hooked him up to another, and then another, the doctor instructing him to tell them if he felt light headed but Steve had a suspicion that the enhancements to his body would simply enable him to generate more as fast as they took it. That said, by the time the third bag was full he was bored. Peggy seemed to sense it and she turned to the doctor who nodded and instructed everyone that they were done.

“Think you got enough?” Steve asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code.” Peggy replied simply, “But without Dr. Erskine, it could take years.”

“He deserved more than this.” Steve replied a little sadly and he meant it. The serum had been Erskine’s life work and now there was nothing to show for it as the last vial of the serum had been smashed on Brooklyn Pier.

“Well, if it could only work once, he’d be proud it was you,” Peggy looked at him.

Steve glanced at her, feeling a little embarrassed at her praise but he didn’t dwell on it and neither did she. Instead, she told him that once he was ready she’d take him down to the main lab were Phillips and Katie were talking to Senator Brandt about the plans for the SSR going forward. Keen to understand, he quickly sorted his shirt out.

“Speaking modestly, I’m the best mechanical engineer in this country,” Howard shrugged. “But I don’t know what’s inside this thing or how it works.”

“So much for not needing a head start, huh?” Katie teased and Howard glared at her.

“We’re not even close to this technology,” he finished by means of an explanation.

“Then who is?” Senator Brandt demanded.

“HYDRA,” Phillips responded SIMPLY. “I’m sure you’ve been reading our briefings.”

“I’m on a number of committees, Colonel,” Brandt replied simply, completely unabashed at Phillips tone.

“HYDRA is the Nazi deep science division,” Katie explained

“It’s led by Johann Schmidt,” Peggy picked up. “But he has much bigger ambitions.”

“HYDRA’s practically a cult,” Phillips stated. “They worship Schmidt, they think he’s invincible.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Brandt asked and at that point Steve took a deep breath, finally he was about to find out what he was going to be doing.

“Spoke to the President this morning. As of today the SSR is being retasked.”

Katie and Peggy exchanged excited glances and Peggy looked back at Phillips, seeking clarification as she asked, “Colonel?”

“We are taking the fight to HYDRA,” Phillips looked at the woman. “Pack your bags Agent Carter. You too, Agent Stark,” he turned to Katie, “you’re flying to London tonight.”

Steve hesitated for a second, but when Phillips didn’t turn to speak to him and inform him where he was going, he hurried forward a little.

“Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”

“You’re an experiment,” Phillips shot back. “You’re going to Alamogordo.”

Steve frowned a little, but then pressed some more, he wasn’t letting this go.

“The serum worked,” his voice rose a little.

“I asked for an army and all I got was you. You...are not enough.”

Katie wheeled round to look at Phillips, her face angry, “Oh, come on Sir, that’s…”

“I have put up with your insubordination for long enough. I don’t give a shit what you think, Agent Stark.” Philips snarled, “Keep pushing me and so help me God, I will have you taken straight outta this unit and you’ll be back home typing up the Letters of Condolence.”

“But…”

“Enough!” Phillips snapped. “Now I suggest you disappear and pack just like Agent Carter did when I told her to.”

Katie took a deep breath, an angry noise escaping her throat before she turned and stormed away. Steve watched her go before he turned back to argue some more with Phillips, but the man had already moved away.

They wanted to send him to a fucking research plant? Seriously? This was ridiculous.

“With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point,” Senator Brandt spoke to Steve and he turned to face the man. “I’ve seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the country’s seen it.” Brandt turned to his aide. “Paper.” His aide obeyed, showing them the paper in his hand. It was today’s copy of the ‘The New York Examiner’ which bore the headline "Nazis in New York - Mystery Man Saves Child" along with a picture of Steve holding the car door in front of him.

“The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands," Brandt smiled at Steve. “You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that, and hide him in a lab.” Steve felt a surge of hope flood his system as the Senator continued. “Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battlefield of the war?”

“Sir, that’s all I want,” Steve replied honestly.

“Then, congratulations,” The Senator held his hand out for Steve to shake. “You just got promoted.”

Steve’s hopes were short lived when Brandt explained what he had in mind - using Steve to boost recruitment and bond sales. But he knew he was getting nowhere with Phillips, so he decided to take the role and could only hope that it would lead to something else. Besides, it was important to gather support. The Forces needed all the financial and recruitment help they could get, and he could play a key part in that.

So Brandt said.

“Hey…”

Steve looked up from where he was packing the few items he’d unpacked from his trunk and looked at Katie.

“Oh, hi.” He said, turning back to his packing.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she continued and Steve took a deep breath, straightening up.

“Who told you?”

“Good news travel fast, Captain.” She stressed the last word and Steve had to actively stop himself from rolling his eyes.  “That’s a pretty good promotion considering you’ve been a soldier all of a week.”

“Yeah, well, it was too good an opportunity to turn down. In fact, it was the only opportunity to turn down.” He watched her as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, before closing it again. And then Steve really did roll his eyes, “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out Katie.”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me,” she snapped back.

“I’m not being…”

“Yes, you are,” she folded her arms. “It’s not my fault Phillips won’t let you in on this. I’ve tried, believe me, but for whatever reason he’s not moving.”

“He’s not moving because he doesn’t like me,” Steve replied simply.

“Well, that’s his loss," Katie countered. “And what’s with the sudden display of self-pity?”

“What?”

“This, moping around, acting all deflated.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you’re off, over there. Fighting the fight…me, well, looks like I’m gonna have to play ball with Senators doesn’t it?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do!” Steve’s voice rose and Katie blinked a little, but besides that she showed no signs of having registered his angry tone. “What choice do I have?”

“There’s always a choice, Steve.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snorted. “And my choice here is what? Go to the damned White Sands Proving Ground where they can run more tests on me? Keep me locked up like some kind of lab rat?”

“I didn’t say they were always good choices.”

“Well what do you think I should do huh?”

“That’s not for me to say.” Katie shook her head. “But I can tell you one thing....”

“What?”

“That I have faith in you to do what you feel is right, and continue to be the good man I know you are.” Her words were soft but they hit Steve like a freight train and he swallowed, suddenly aware of how down right shitty he’d been. “And if you’re telling me that it feels right that you go where Brandt wants you to go then…” she shrugged. 

“I have to try.” Steve replied.

“Well, in that case, I’ll say what I came to say in the first place," she gave him a soft smile, “Good luck.”

Steve took a deep breath and sighed, “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry I snapped. I just, well, truth be told I’m a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, all I ever wanted was to be a soldier and to fight on the front lines. Like my dad did, and Bucky.” He sat down on the side of the bed, “And I agreed to this procedure because I thought it was my ticket there, ya know?”

“I get it,” Katie nodded, crossing the room to sit besides him. “And I can understand how frustrated you feel, believe me I can.” He turned to look at her to see her glancing down at her hands before she looked up at a spot on the wall opposite them. “I just can’t say anything to make it better, other than repeat what I said before. I have absolute faith and belief that you’ll do what you think is right. And that’s all any of us can do.”

Steve looked straight in her eyes as they flickered across both of his and he took a deep breath, her words echoing round his mind. Throughout this, she and Erskine had been the two people who had utterly believed he was the best man for the job so to speak. Now Erskine was gone, and he was about to be separated from her as well. And it pained him to think about it, as he realised that he was going to miss her, for more than the simple reason that she’d been a friend to him. 

“You know I’m sorry we met the way we did,” his thoughts blurted out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Katie frowned, “What?”

“No, I err…” Steve sighed and then gave a snort. “Guess the serum didn’t enhance my ability to talk to a dame without completely making a total screw up of it.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Katie smiled, “you do a decent job most of the time.” She paused as Steve gave a little huff of laughter before she turned her body a little more towards him, “What’s on your mind, Soldier?”

“I mean, I’m sorry that we met when we did. And, you know, not sooner.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands, “Or maybe even later, when all this is over.”

“If it ever is,” Katie sighed and Steve raised his eyes to hers as she licked her lips a little. “Steve, I’m not sad I met you when I did. Quite the opposite actually. It’s been…” she paused for a moment before she smiled “…a little ray of hope in an otherwise very gloomy world.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah…” she shrugged. “You know, a reminder that no matter how ugly the world seems or how much it changes, it’s still a beautiful place.”

Steve thought on her words for a second, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“What?” She asked as she noted his expression.

“You just remind me of my mom,” he smiled. “She was always a 'look on the bright side' kind of woman. No matter what life threw at us, she was always reminding me there were people far worse off.”

“She sounds like a smart lady.”

“She was, ” Steve smiled with a short nod. “Kind, compassionate…just more ways you remind me of her.”

He didn’t miss the faint flush on Katie’s cheeks as she looked down at her hands and then raised her eyes to look at him, “I’m honoured.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I meant what I said you know, the other night before we…you know.” He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat felt like a tennis ball. “I like you, more than like you in fact.”

“Kinda sucks we’re about to be separated doesn’t it?” Katie looked at him, her eyes sad and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“But, I’m a firm believer that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” Katie shrugged and at that Steve gave a scoff. She turned to him, a playful look on her face. “What, you don’t believe in fate?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “you make your own luck.”

“Right.” A little side smile broke on her mouth, “you did a good job with that when you happened to be at the Expo the same time Erskine was.”

“Lucky coincidence.”

“And what was me getting accosted by a load of rapscallions in Brooklyn?”

“A not so lucky for you coincidence.” Steve shrugged.

“You know what the definition of the word coincidence is?”

“Not word for word, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“Sass bag.” Katie nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled, “but you’re right, I am. It’s a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent casual connection.”

“And?”

“Fate is the development of events outside a person’s control.” Katie looked at him, her eyebrow arched, “Coincidence is beyond a person’s control. And if fate is what’s meant to be no matter what you do, and coincidence is merely a matter of right place, right time, then what if you’re in the right place at the right time because it’s simply meant to be.”

Steve looked at her, utterly sideswiped at her sentiment. Whilst he wasn’t sure he agreed, the logic was surely there and the fact she’d laid it so bare, been so open with him knocked him for six. He saw her eyes flicker to his mouth again, and in a sudden surge of confidence he gently moved, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to meet him in a soft, gentle kiss that was loaded with meaning.

“Yup…” she sniffed a little as she pulled away and Steve was both surprised and horrified to see the tears in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to his, their noses bumping a little “it definitely sucks.”

“Write to me,” he whispered, his thumbs swiping away her tears and she smiled, nodding, before she caught his lips again, this time the kiss was deeper, and Steve had to fight back the groan that was bubbling in his throat as he felt her tongue slide against his. They were interrupted by a loud noise outside and Katie pulled away, dropping her gaze a little before she sighed and stood up.

“Stay safe soldier,” she smiled, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I’d hate for you to come back horrifically disfigured.”

At that Steve snorted, “Would it put you off?” He teased, “I didn’t think you were that shallow.”

“I’m not,” she smiled as she made her way to the door. “It’d just be a helluva waste, a face like that.”

With that she was gone and Steve felt the smile fade from his face to be replaced by a hollow feeling which engulfed his entire body, as the realisation spread across him that he had no idea when he would see her again.

If indeed, at all.

November 1943.

 “I already volunteered, how do you think I got here?”

“Nice boots, Tinkerbell…”

“Hey, Captain! Sign this”

The heckling from the assembled crowd rang through Steve’s mind as he sat dejectedly on the side of the stage, the miserable and cold rain matching his mood. His hand moved absentmindedly, shading in the drawing he’d sketched in his book. A very apt drawing of a Circus Monkey on a Unicycle clutching the damned shield he’d been given as part of his costume. It turns out the “battlefield” that Senator Brandt had been referring to was nothing more than a grotesque road show across the US and various other places on the Allied Map encouraging people to buy war bonds.

“The Senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.”

Yeah, a "platoon" of chorus girls and confetti cannons, complete with Adolph himself. And he was no closer to getting in on the real action.

He’d travelled all over the place during the last four months, the tour had been successful, and there was no denying that it was helping the effort in a way. “Bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazi’s bing bang boom.” But this wasn’t what he had signed up for. Nor did he believe for one second that this was what Dr. Erskine had in mind for how his serum would be put into use.

He’d made a few propaganda films, all part of the course according to Brandt who had then had the the bright idea to send Captain America on the USO tour, to attempt to lift spirits. So here he was in Italy, five miles from the front line, having finally made it overseas as a soldier only to be stood on a stage in front of the men he should have been fighting alongside, being pelted by rotten fruit and vegetables instead of bullets.

It didn’t help that he knew the SSR were fast ramping up their efforts on HYDRA, having been reassigned to somewhere in mainland Europe, not unlike himself at that point in time. He’d had a few letters from Katie, but he had no idea where she was. She didn’t go into details, which was to be expected, she couldn’t and her mail always reached him through the usual military channels. He’d tried to remain positive in his letters back to her, focussing on nights where had a particularly good show, meeting and greeting his ‘fans’ afterwards, carefully omitting details about the women that now seemed to be throwing themselves at him. Be it in bars, back stage or simply as he emerged from the venues; there was no shortage of ladies vying for his attention. And had he been that way inclined, he could have taken any number of them dancing and then back to wherever he was staying that night but the fact was he didn’t want to. Because no matter how pretty or forthcoming the girls were, his mind and heart were with a certain green eyed agent.

The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song had dubbed him, yet Steve felt as if he had never had less of a plan in his life.

“Hello, Steve," a familiar voice spoke in his ear and Steve jerked his head up in surprise and turned, doing a little double take as he looked up at Katie.

“Hi,” he instantly felt his heart rate pick up dramatically in her presence, like it normally did as his eyes laid upon her. She was dressed in standard Army green wool pants that were tailored for a man with wide legs and long length that she tucked in to her well-worn mid-calf boots which were brown leather with lace protection straps and had no doubt been happily trudged through the mud and beaten until they broke in and needed new soles. Her unit issued jacket was the same colour green as her pants, but the harsh canvas material gave a weighted appearance across her shoulders as it was buttoned and zipped it up.  Beneath it, she wore her wool tie and collared shirt, no doubt tucked into her trousers for a crisp clean look.

Steve noted how it was a stark (pun intended) difference to the previous smart pencil skirt and jacketed uniform he had seen her in at the SSR base which Peggy, who stood to her left, was still sporting. But then again, the two women were very different, and knowing Katie as he did she wasn't one to conform and who knew what she had been up to whilst on the front line.

All it did was serve to make Steve feel even more self-conscious and ridiculous in his own outfit, designed for dancing and prancing around not active combat. 

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked, his eyes flicking to Peggy before they returned to Katie again.

“Officially we’re not here at all,” Peggy smiled. “That was quite a performance.”

Great, they’d seen it. His shoulders slumped at little as he turned away.

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh… twelve.”

“Probably less full of jerks as well,” Katie snorted and Steve looked at her, his mouth curling into a slight smile as Peggy let out a sigh.

“You know what soldiers are like. Present company excepted of course,” Peggy quickly corrected herself as Steve had cocked any eyebrow at her sweeping assumption, before she turned to the other agent. “I warned you-“

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Katie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Peggy took a deep breath, before she turned back to Steve, swiftly changing the subject. “I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit,” Steve chanted off, the words flowing out of him the same way they did whenever he spoke to someone about the Roadshow and he grimaced as he realised just what a damned puppet he had become.

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Katie teased and Steve took a deep breath.

“At least he’s got me doin’ this,” Steve felt a sudden need to defend not only the Senator a little but also his decision to take the role in the first place, especially after their conversation before he had left. “Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your only two options?” Peggy looked at him, nodding to his sketch book which was still open in his lap. “A lab rat or a dancing monkey?”

“You were meant for more than this, you know?” Katie added gently, and Steve looked at her, hesitating as his sarcastic reply died in his throat. Instead he looked away, a little dejected. She was right, he had been meant for more that was the whole point of him taking the serum. But even after he’d been turned into this Super Soldier, been given such power and capability, he still wasn’t enough.

“What?” Katie pressed gently, having noticed his hesitation.

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

Before either of the women could respond there was the sound of a horn honking which diverted their attention. Steve turned to watch as an ambulance pulled to a halt outside the medical tent. The back doors were flung open and several injured soldiers were pulled out of the back on stretches, nurses and medical staff rushing to help as they disappeared through the drapes of the tents, the walking wounded being helped down and aided as they limped behind.

“They look like they’ve been through hell,” Steve commented, a deep feeling of sadness at the sight of the injured men flooded his chest.

“These men more than most,” Peggy commented and Steve turned to look at her, a little confused as to what she meant.

“Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano,” Katie explained. “Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.”

Steve felt his chest tighten, as if someone had trapped it in a vice and his head momentarily span as the meaning of her words sank in.

“The one-oh-seventh?” He breathed out, begging it to be wrong. But Katie simply frowned as she gave a nod.

“What?”

Steve swallowed and looked around before he rose to his feet. “That was Bucky’s unit.” He turned to face her, his voice sounded alien as he almost choked on his words. Katie’s face slid into a look of recognition, her mouth falling open.

“Barnes?” She asked and Steve nodded, as he ran a hand down his face, once more glancing round desperately hoping for Bucky to appear and rip into him for his ridiculous outfit. But he knew that if Bucky had been in that audience, he would have already found him. Which meant that he was either amongst the injured soldiers in the tent or…

“Who’s Barnes?” Peggy asked form behind him.

“Steve’s friend from home,” Katie replied gently as Steve turned back to look at the women.

“I need to check if he’s there,” Steve nodded towards the medical tent.

“Not a good idea,” Peggy cut him off. “You saw their reaction to you before. If you go waltzing in you’re going to upset them.”

“I don’t really care,” Steve spluttered

“Well you should,” Peggy looked at him sternly.

“I have to know if he survived!”

“Okay, look…” Katie took a deep breath, and he tore his eyes away from Peggy who was still glaring at him to look instead at the other woman. “Phillips will have the list of the-“ she hesitated, clearly searching for the best word “-casualties. We can ask him.”

“Phillips is here too?” Steve frowned, although he wasn’t sure why that had surprised him. Decision made, he turned and started running across the camp shooting a, “come on,” over his shoulder as the heavy rain pelted down onto them all.

He busted into the tent, “Colonel Phillips,” and the man looked up, a disgruntled expression spread across his face before he took a deep breath and looked back down at the papers on his desk as Steve strode purposefully towards him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. And what is your plan today?” Phillip’s voice was laced with sarcasm but Steve didn’t care. At the moment he had one thing on his mind, and that was Bucky.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.” Phillips snapped, looking up at him once more and Steve ignored his angry tone, his stubbornness showing through as he continued to pres.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.”

“You two and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy,” Phillips pointed to both Agent Carter and Katie in turn.

“Can’t wait," Katie sassed back and Phillips’ head shot up to look at her as he once more fixed her with a stare that could freeze over hell, but Steve didn’t have time for this.

“ Please tell me if he’s alive, Sir. B-A-R…”

“I can spell,” the Colonel stated harshly as he tore his eyes from Katie. He looked at the papers in his hand and with a sigh dropped them to his desk and when he spoke his voice was a little softer. "I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry." 

Steve swallowed, a feeling of cold washing over his body as the Colonel's words sank in. It sounded familiar…so, maybe there was a chance it could be another Barnes, maybe? It was a common name, after all…and even if it was Bucky’s name on the letter, he could be missing assumed dead, not actually confirmed dead. Peggy and Katie had told him before that there were still men from the unit trapped behind lines. 

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he’d really had time to consider them properly.

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

Steve frowned, “But if you know where they are, why not at least…?"

Colonel Phillips stood up, the expression on his face belonged to a man who had just lost his final bit of patience. "They're thirty miles behind the lines. Through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save." He moved around the desk to stand in front of Steve, his hands falling to his hips as fixed him with a stern and challenging glare. "But I don't expect you to understand that, because you're a chorus girl."

Steve took a breath, the anger coursing inside him at the dig that Phillips had just made, but before he could say anything, he heard Katie scoff besides him. 

“And who’s fault is that?”

Phillips turned to Katie, his face contorted in anger “You are this close…” he held his thumb and forefinger up a fraction of an inch apart.

Katie’s jaw clenched and her chin tipped up defiantly as she glared back at the man. Steve, having had chance to compose himself slightly now the spoke in an attempt to draw the attention back away from her and onto himself.

“I might just be a chorus girl, but I think I understand just fine.”

“Well then understand it somewhere else.” Phillips turned away… “If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes”

As he spoke the last words, Steve took note of the map which lay on the table and he noticed a flag marked with an H which caught his attention. And then, he made his decision.

The Star Spangled Man finally had a plan.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

[shinebrite97]

Part 3

Read Part 2 here      

  Her phone had seen no action since her message to Lucifer, and with no little check mark to indicate he’d seen it, she figured he was still up to his eyeballs in papers and backlogged work.          Now her phone sat beside a fancy little appetizer plate along with too many forks and spoons, hidden behind a basket of steaming rolls between the two of them.          A quick dinner at Ristorante 6?

        Her mind was racing, taking in the sites of well-dressed demons giving her judgmental looks as Diavolo simply smiled and buttered a roll.          “So,” She said. “It's been some time since we’ve spoken...hasn’t it?” She asked.          “You’re absolutely right, Yuri,” He replied. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve spent time with you at all since you returned.” He glanced up, golden eyes boring into her from across the table as he busied himself unbuttoning the long sleeves of his uniform. “Tell me, how are you settling in as a returning student?”          “I...it’s been…” She trailed off, wondering how to respond. “I’m enjoying myself.”  When he didn’t say anything more, she shifted awkwardly in the chair. Its back was too high, the velvet cushion too firm, the space between her and the table suddenly felt very restricting.         "Um…" Yuri bit her lip, considering all the things she could gush about. The food, the people, the things she was learning. "I don't know…" she replied. "I'm just...happier here." She turned her head, stifling some comment about Stockholm Syndrome, and looked back when Diavolo opened his mouth. He closed it again, and her eyes flitted down, seeing him grip a golden soup spoon.          "Are you and Lucifer expecting another paper from me at the end of term?"          Diavolo laughed.         "No," he said. "No. I just wanted to know."          "Okay," she replied. "But I know you didn't bring me to this beautiful restaurant to ask about my stay."          "No, I suppose I didn't." His words ended in a trill, almost as if he was waiting for her to make the next move, but with a distinct lack of details as to why she was here, she bowed her head, letting the awkward silence fill in, hoping this chair would come to life and devour her.          “I’m not really sure how much help I’ll be for anything, to be honest.” She said. “I’m flattered, but…”         “Yuri, I need you to marry me.”         Dead air. That's what came of her parted lips. She hadn't even closed her mouth when Diavolo processed his words. He shook his head, feeling a bright burn in his cheeks as he cleared his throat.         "I could have said that better," he said.          "Sir?* She asked.          "I can explain," he said. "You are aware that I am the next in line for the throne, correct?"         "Yes."         "I have been raised for this position for thousands of years, and I've always done as instructed, learned all there is to learn, and the powers that be have decided that I'm ready."         "That's amazing!" Yuri replied with a big grin. "Congratulations Lord Diavolo!"          "Thank you," his smile took up the majority of his face, a bright beam that overtook the single candle at their table, and Yuri blushed.         I'd give anything to see that smile…         "However," he added. "There is one condition I seemed to have overlooked in all this, a requirement of ascension is to have a partner, one who can ensure the successful production of an heir."          "That's...awfully practical." Yuri replied. "And you're asking me to...take that spot?"         "I am," he murmured. "Now I'm not asking you out of convenience. I am asking because you have become a trusted friend, and because...well...you are the only woman who isn't afraid to be seen with me. The only person, aside from Lucifer and Barbatos, who will speak to me...who isn't afraid of me."         "Dia…" she whispered. The turn of his lips at her response made the pit of her belly burn. It was something so guarded, an attempt at hubris that didn't quite reach his eyes. Eyes that glimmered with tears in the flickering light of their table's candle. She saw his knuckles clenched above the table, fingers wrapped around the soup spoon, and without thinking, she felt his warm skin under her hand. Smooth as marble, strong and still. He barely noticed at first, but once he did, he cleared his throat and averted his eyes, but very pointedly did not move his hand away.         "Basically," he said. "I need your help with the ceremonial side for things. My coronation with take place during my wedding, and if you accept...it would also be your coronation...and wedding."          "Coronation?" She asked.         "Yes…" he said quietly. "Even at the lowest level of royalty, it would  involve changing your title, you would become Lady Diavolo, and I would become King...you would take on the responsibility I currently possess, and...well, the rest of the logistics could be decided later."          "I see…"         "Now I will not force you to agree, I will not hold you against your will, I am simply asking you...because...well to be perfectly honesty with you, Yrui...there isn't another lady I would want to ask.'         "Diavolo?" she asked.         "Not to mention, Barbatos told me. I asked him to look into the futures, the realities where this takes place, and I either forfeit the crown, or I live in a loveless arrangement with some other demon nobility, or I ask you...and he swore we were happy."          "Wow…"         "Is this too much?" He asked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…."         "Here you are," a raspy voice broke off his apology as the horned waiter set down plates at the table for them.          Carved Shadow Hog was the only food item on the plates that Yuri recognized having enjoyed it with the brothers before. However the cup holding an odd-looking relish had bits resembling pineapple. Diavolo smiled in thanks as he lifted his fork.          "It looks delicious," Yuri said carefully. The waiter bowed his head before slithering away to the next table and Yuri picked up her fork, first going for the medley of steamed bitter vegetables.         She learned early on not to judge meals by name or appearance, because the one she feared most, the Quetzalcoatl brains had ended up becoming a comfort food for her. She recognized the prickly cucumber and the odd little root vegetable, one that Asmo seemed to favor, always saying that it was good for reducing puffy skin under one's eyes.          Diavolo paused his words long enough to take a bite of his shadow hog topped with the pineapple relish, though the second his mouth closed, he frowned, lips pursing and mouth scrunching as his eyes squinted into slits. He chewed hard, quickly swallowing and shuddering before taking a longer-than-necessary sip of red wine.          "Is everything okay, sir?" She asked.          He nodded, using the napkin to wipe his top lip.          "There are...pickles...in the pineapple relish." He grumbled.         She laughed. A loud sound that traveled through the dining room and left her quickly covering her mouth in embarrassment         "Oh, I see…" she smirked, hiding a giggle behind her napkin as she dabbed at her lips. Fondly, she remembered their conversations, the first time Diavolo ever confessed his hatred for pickles, and the time Barbatos and Lucifer devised a plan to slowly incorporate them into his meals. He'd been weary of any food prepared by them for months following the incident.          "You like pickles, don't you, Yuri?" He asked.         "I do, in fact." She replied. He smiled politely, using just his thumb and index finger to hastily pick up the small glass bowl and placed it gingerly on her plate.          "For you, my dear." he said softly.         Yuri giggled, accepting it and placing it beside her own. After a quick sample of it with the tip of her fork, she beamed.          "This is delicious!" She said.         "Ah the perks of partnership…" Diavolo mused. "One to enjoy the foods you do not."         "If I accept this deal," she said. "I know there is more than just a title and a dress. What are the things I will be learning?"         "Good question! I'll admit even I hadn't thought that part all the way through yet," he blushed. "You would require at least a crash course of everything I learned growing up... considering I have six thousand years of knowledge...and you only have two months to learn everything…"         "I'm sorry," she interrupted. "Two months?"          He had the decency to look stricken as he took in her response.         "Yes…" he said. "I know that is hardly any time, and I wished I had more time to offer you," His fingertips drummed against the surface of the table as he willed himself to he devoured into the chair behind him now. "I, myself, only found out about all of this today."         "I see…" she replied.         "Well, I think I have said everything I can on this topic, and I believe my last method of persuasion is simply begging on my knees, but I do hope you wouldn't have me do that here."          Yuri blushed at the idea, waving away the mental image and nodded.         "If I may...do I have time?" She asked. "At least tonight...just to think about it?"          "It is only right to grant you that," he said. "Very well. Once we finish our meal I will walk you back to The House of Lamentation."          "Thank you." She smiled.          

         Yuri was surprised at how nice it was to spend time with Diavolo alone. It was a thought that at one point intimidated her, but now more than ever she realized just how lonely the young demon prince was.          Their dinner conversation often shifted quickly, and once she used her DDD to find a Devilgram post he told her about, she finally saw the list of comments under each post.         Under one of Mammon and Leviathan, Diavolo had commented "That looks like fun!"          Under one of Asmodeus with shopping bags. "How wonderful!"         A post from Simeon where Luke seemed to be nudging Solomon out of the Purgatory Hall Kitchen. "Come have tea sometime!"

I'd like to join next time! Hope you enjoyed yourself! We should get together!

        Listening to him animatedly discuss things regarding those around him, all as heresay, made her realize how little he was in on others' lives.          He needed someone. A social buffer, the small cute thing that made him seem more approachable.          He needed a friend who appreciated him as much as he appreciated other.         He needed a partner.         And he'd asked her to be just that.         After dinner, and a bill he didn't even let her look at, he kept his word and walked with her right up to the gate, a quick goodbye and a quicker tight hug, and he watched as she walked up the steps and used her key to open the door.          I'll do it. 

[narratornavigatorstoryteller]

hi this is a mello-centric account but here's my matt analysis

general 

smoking

often, people who smoke do so as the result of pressure or as a coping mechanism. he's clearly smart enough to recognize what is and isn't a good idea, so i don't believe he'd start smoking just because someone else said he should. instead, i'd say he smokes as a coping mechanism. i'm not sure what exactly he'd be coping with, however, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume stress, anxiety, and the environment in which he was raised are all contributing factors.

interest in technology

i take this to be one of a Few things that could point to him possibly having adhd or autism, likely with technology as a hyperfixation. will expand on this farther down.

was smart enough to be in 3rd place

i feel as though he could've ranked higher in the wammy's system, not because he "didn't apply himself," but more because he didn't Care. as someone with interests (and potentially, an ideal career) outside of becoming L's successor, i wouldn't be surprised if matt were on level with or even above mello. maybe it's respect or simple lack of wanting that keeps him in third.

comparable to a dog

for matt, this would be a different meaning than mello. where mello's dog comparison takes on a sharper, more assertive tone, i personally see matt as being much more responsive and analytical. where mello has a set plan in place that can be adjusted accordingly, matt has a much looser set of major goals and prefers to analyze the situation as it progresses.

i also feel like he is a leader, however he lacks the motivation to apply it. instead, going back to the dog comparison, he'll take what he's given within reason. if mello says to answer when he calls, then matt will. if wammy's house says to get ranked as high as possible, he will. at the same time, if he feels something is unnecessary, he won't even consider it. why aim for top two if third is good enough? why genuinely try to become L's successor if he just doesn't want to?

long story short, matt's what i'd like to call a selective follower; he has the qualifications to be a strong and good leader, but is very picky about where and why he applies them. as a selective follower, he'll do what he's told, but only when he actually believes in whoever is trying to instruct him. he is loyal, but might not be above playing traitor if he saw good reason to.

i doubt he was very well liked at wammy's, and was often misread by other students

as number 3, matt prevents number 4, 5, 6, etc. from even having a chance at the top. additionally, he likely presents himself as an awkward loner (with his social skills being 3/10) with a nic addiction and a love of video games. this presentation alongside his obviously high intelligence might cause people to resent and misunderstand him, seeing matt as nothing more than another obstacle between them and a higher position. social awkwardness is now read as conceitedness ("he thinks he's too good for us") and the video games and lack of rank progression are read as refusal to apply himself (which, while true, would now be read more negatively due to the situation)

goggles

i personally like to think he wears them because of light sensitivity, but at the same time i want to see them as a symbol of his constant personality masking. i can't see him as anything other than deeply thoughtful and extremely loyal. in times of stress, he projects confidence and pride, possibly to mask a fear of failure and being seen as weak. i also see a potential fear of vulnerability in him, though whether this is with himself, with others, or just in general is debatable (by obscuring his eyes, it makes it harder for them to be read, building up a wall between him and whoever he's with).

neurodivergence

i have no doubt that he is either autistic or has adhd. To start: boredom. it’s a recurring theme in death note for characters to experience boredom and have strange means of dealing with it (e.g., ryuk, light [debatable], and L). for mail, i’d say that this points even more in the direction of him being neurodivergent coded, as boredom is also a symptom found in various neurodivergencies. next; video games and electronics. hyperfixations are used as a way to relieve stress, or as something that a person simply enjoys and thinks about in ways that go far beyond their control. in chapter 85, while “watching mogi and misa” for mello, matt is shown actually playing video games instead, and states that he found his original task boring. some neurodivergent people may find it hard to complete certain tasks, especially if they don’t find them interesting, and it makes sense that he would turn to his hyperfixation instead. for now i’ll end on his social skills. in the offical stats, matt’s social skills are rated at a 3/10, which, if i’m not mistaken, is second lowest for the human death note characters at least, with near and L tying for absolute lowest at 1/10. while not everyone experiences this, its a common symptom to have “trouble” socialising, or to not be very good at reading social cues. due to his high observation skills, i’d say that a lot of what builds up his social interactions is mirroring; things he picked up from watching others, especially those at wammy’s house. i know i said i’d end with that, but some smaller points that i won’t talk too much on are his goggles (possible light sensitivity/sensory issues, also potentially a comfort item), his gloves (could be a sensory thing, or even a strong aversion to germs, though the latter is less likely due to the next point), and his environment (from what we’re shown, his workspace is very cluttered and disorganized)

relationships

mello

mello’s the only one we ever see any interaction with. They’re officially described as “friends," and stayed together for a bit before takada's kidnapping. they seem to hold mutual respect and trust for each other, with matt being willing to assist in mello's plans and mello calling matt to work with him after the explosion. when matt slipped up while spying on misa, mello was shown to be a bit annoyed, however he didn’t mention it and simply carried on with things the best he could. their relationship overall seems to be a very good one, even after all their years apart.

[bangtanblurbs]

intro: never mind

song: Intro: Never Mind

first experience: i remember when the Never Mind comeback trailer dropped - i was sitting in my dorm and it was absurdly late at night. i was preparing to go back home for the thanksgiving holiday and closing out what my university affectionately called “hell week” - a week in which nearly every class you’re taking schedules their final midterm exams and projects due in preparation to give you two weeks to study for finals. i was feeling really defeated. i’d decided to take on a really hard load of upper level economics courses that semester. i didn’t really care about school at this point. my grades were good, sure, but my motivation was completely shot. hearing yoongi’s voice, the emotion in it, it became almost like a mantra to me at that time. encouraging me to keep going. to make it through. day. by. day. i listened to the song on repeat so much as i pulled all-nighters in the library. it was my lifeline.

feelings/personal connection: as alluded to, this song for me - it’s pure pain, struggle, and perseverance. it’s full of spite, but not the kind that brings you down -- the kind that pushes you forward. for me, this song is the core of bangtan’s experience. they had to push through so much bullshit to get where they are. listening to never mind always has layered meaning for me. of course there’s the meanings associated with the struggles bangtan overcame, their dedication, yoongi’s story specifically too... turning on never mind and listening even without understanding the lyrics, you can hear that this is bangtan’s “we’re going to make it, we’re going to hold our head’s high and keep going. we are following our dreams, and with our conviction - nothing else matters” song. having been with bangtan for so long - seeing them fight like hell... this song is everything. known that they knew their worth even in 2015 when they weren’t getting the recognition they deserved and were being treated like absolute shit left and right. 

outside of the meaning for bangtan, this song strikes a core with me. growing up in a rural less than stellar suburb of west atlanta there weren’t many expectations for me - a young girl, pretty mediocre at everything she did. but i wanted a lot. i felt like an outcast in my community... i’m not sure how or why but everything i loved and fascinated was something my culture and community deemed strange. girls where i’m from, they get married before they’re 20, have kids before they’re 25... it’s all very linear. i wanted adventure, i wanted to think, stand on my own two feet. i wanted a lot for myself, things that nobody in my family wanted or understood. things that sometimes, they didn’t support. listening to never mind transported me back. i saw my teenage self struggling through my IB degree - fighting like hell to get into a good university - fighting like hell not to let that university swallow me up with temptations and malice. at the time of finding never mind i was in my third year of university. i felt like i was going to make it, but then what? never mind was my mantra - don’t give a shit, or a fuck, about those people at home. don’t care about the people at university who were rich, privileged beyond belief, and considered me stupid trash. i kept my head down and i ran. raising hell when i had to, fighting for myself.

even now, i’m an outsider in life. i’m pursing a phd - i’m living in a new city (washington DC)... i don’t belong here. i’m not the traditional type to walk this path. i come from a very modest background, my family never left the country, my parents never expected anything for my future. but i won’t mind them. things are hard, people question me, my mind, my thoughts, my identity, my legitimacy. and when it’s tough - i put on never mind and i shout with yoongi. nobody is holding me back anymore. i can see the light at the end of my journey, i will get there, and those that doubted me for any moment - never mind them. 

song breakdown

musically: there’s so much here. there. is. so. much. here. from the very start of the song with the crowd cheering - this brings about the notion that yes - BTS has made it *yoongi* has made it. they have fans, they perform in front of crowds, they’ve achieved something that those who didn’t support them thought they never would. the mic tapping, the screech, the coughing -- lets us know we’re about to get a story, something heartfelt. he’s nervous to share it. gathering confidence. (truly i feel like never mind is one of the first bangtan songs that speaks to the group’s PERSONAL experiences coming up in the industry) - it’s something new, something that they’re nervous to share, different from love songs and more traditional narratives that they typically share with us. the piano backs yoongi in the beginning, drums and a beat come in as the lyrics pick up - it’s understated, it lets you really focus in on the emotions in his voice. something about it is truly haunting. the beat picks up during the bridge and levels out to a nice calming tone as namjoon and hoseok come into bring in the chorus - the MANTRA - of the song “NEVER MIND, NEVER MIND”

vocally: it’s all rapline here. and it’s all emotion. from yoongi’s first breath, you know you’re going to be sent somewhere. he’s going to tell you a story. a deeply personal one. you can hear his change tones, he giggles at points where he needs to emphasize the fact that those who counted him out are finally proven wrong, they’re finally eating their words as he rises and meets his success. he speeds up the rap as the song goes on - it’s like running - the start is slow, labored, but over time it builds to a fantastic speed and bottoms out with even chanting. this is the story. these 7, yoongi among them, they started out slow, but damn they’re running by the time HYYH pt. 2 drops. they are running like hell - and they’re going to make it. the fact that hoseok and namjoon join in on the chorus is also telling -- perhaps yoongi added them on the track because without the three of them, they wouldn’t be living this journey, maybe he’d still be stuck at the pace he was running before. now they’re united - they can join together and fight those that held them back. hoseok brings his upbeat tone - namjoon brings his soul, and rapline completes the song together with yoongi uttering the final bars in a soft soothing voice - almost like he’s telling us, don’t mind those that hold you back either, we are here, you can do whatever it is you want as well. 

lyrically: i could give a three hour lecture about these lyrics. as we all know, never mind was written by yoongi. the song starts out offering us some insight into how yoongi continues on despite all the shit he deals with - “i only look forward and run” it’s almost like he’s offering us this advice as well, just focus on what’s in front of you and keep going. he talks first about his success, he’s finally “become the pride” of his family. but then he dives into the pains he’s overcome - acknowledging the common thought that “teenage years mess you up” (something with which we can likely all relate to - somehow those teenage years are when you’re the most insecure, and also the years when you usually take the most heat when it comes to deciding who you are and where you want to go with your life). yoongi remarks that the only thing that’s changed about himself is his height - i wonder if he feels the same now - and he speaks to the fact that his youth is something that he carries with himself into the present. it motivates him. it’s made him, him. yoongi had to overcome a lot of hardships, people telling him he would be the very demise of his family as he fought for his dream a music career. but he kept going - he says “i only lived how i wanted, guided by my own beliefs” and he taunts the listener who may have doubted his ability to make it “how do you think i’m doing now?” and states he wants “to ask the several people who prayed for me to screw up - does it seem like my home is going broke, you bastards?” this is the spite that yoongi carries. the pain. despite looking only forward and not being concerned with the haters - he acknowledges that he was outcasted because of it, he wants them to see that they were wrong, that they messed up in their evaluation of him. 

yoongi’s words move into the bridge - they continue their powerful message. he acknowledges that he’s failed, but because of his youth that he continues to carry he can pick himself up on it. “if you can’t return, go straight through your mistakes and forget them all. never mind.” he encourages us to do as he did, if you mess up - why carry it forward? just keep running forward never look back. 

yet yoongi maintains his humility through all of this. he acknowledges, letting the hate and doubt roll off of you, it isn’t easy -- “it’s not easy but engrave it onto your chest” (which jimin quite literally did - NEVERMIND - a reminder that he needs to hold his head high and keep going). yoongi continues to offer encouragement “if you feel you’re going to crash - then accelerate more, you idiot.” when you’re at your lowest - that’s when you really need to forget what the others said, go so fast and so hard you have no time to consider them and their ignorance. that is comfort. this song is nothing but pure comfort. 

the chorus brings in the thoughts that yeah, there’s a lot you can’t change - there’s thorns along the journey of life - but you have to keep going. especially when you carry your youth, your immaturity, don’t give up. just keep going. yoongi repeats several times “if you feel like you’re going to crash - then accelerate more, you idiot.” using the same insults and pain that they threw against him in likely a layered sense. first telling himself, he’s an idiot for ever moving closer to crashing, but also laughing and calling himself an idiot in the way those who doubted him did - he was an idiot for chasing a dream, but damn he’s overcome and he’s made it. 

performance: to be quite honest, it’s hard to find performance videos of never mind. i was lucky enough to see it live when i went to HYYH in macau - but i don’t have any footage of it. typically though it starts with the entire venue dark. a single light will come upon yoongi as he begins rapping in his hooded coat. either way - the performance starts with yoongi alone, much how the story in the lyrics starts. it’s haunting to see him - typically facing the back of the stage - rapping his heart out. it’s like he has to build up his confidence before turning around to bear himself and his emotions to crowd. as the bridge hits - the hood comes off. the confidence is there, hoseok and namjoon join on stage. the mood is generally one of encouragement. 

as for the comeback video - it’s remarkably profound for an animated video. the video starts with the butterfly, often symbolic of rebirth. resilience. then we get the animation of a boy, playing basketball, alone, feeling hopeless. lost in what seems to be a visual maze - reaching for the butterfly. an a microphone in chains. the boy begins to run during the bridge - just running along. the butterflies surround him. it’s like he’s chasing a moment for redemption and rebirth. running towards that moment that the catterpillar transforms into what it’s meant to me. just as yoongi tells us - run, run like hell towards who you’re meant to be. don’t look back. 

tl;dr: never mind is a masterpiece. it’s raw emotion. it’s one of the first songs where we really get a bangtan member spilling *their* life story, their struggles, with us in a song. it’s highly relatable - and while it’s yoongi’s story - it also feels like a letter of encouragement to all of those listening. turn away from those that doubt you and run like hell. 

[askdragonagecompanions]

Hello! May I request DAI romances reactions when they first realize they're in love with the Inquisitor? Thank you, have a wonderful day! :D

Dorian:  He never intended to fall in love with the Inquisitor. Feelings were dangerous and they complicated everything. The other annoyingly frustrating thing about feelings is that they didn’t listen to logic. Logically Dorian knew he shouldn’t fall for the Inquisitor, that many people would just assume it was a ploy by the Tevinter Mage to get the most powerful mage in Thedas in the palm of his hand. Kaffas… he was in too deep. The first time Dorian realized he had fallen in love with the Inquisitor was honestly just a simple moment. It was a few days after the Inquisitor had gotten Dorian’s amulet back for him. He had come to visit Dorian in the library. They had shared a few nights together, a kiss here and there but Dorian kept telling himself that it meant nothing. This was just a fling between them like back home, but the heart was a fickle ting. He found himself watching the Inquisitor look at the books. The way he always had a little smile whenever he was near Dorian, oh Dorian teased him for it and Maker that laugh. They sat down to read in a comfortable silence but Dorian’s eyes kept moving over to the Inquisitor. Now Dorian was the one who couldn’t stop smiling. Maker I love that man… The thought made his cheeks turn red and he quickly busied himself by reading his book. Feelings like that were dangerous but… maybe he could be foolish just this once? Maybe….

Solas: Solas keeps himself very busy with his plans, and he often gets stuck in his own head.  Honestly at first he just assumed his feelings towards the Inquisitor were just that of them growing closer. He considered them good friends and used that as his excuse as to why he kept bringing him through the fade while they both slept. It was actually during one of these Fade adventures that Solas realized he was in love with the Inquisitor. She was so fascinated and it just made Solas smile. He loved her curiosity, her love of the fade, her. That journey ended a little abruptly. He woke them both up and sighed when he sat up. He didn’t need to fall in love, but could he truly ignore these feelings? He never thought he could meet someone like her, but here she was. 

Blackwall: The moment Blackwall realized he loved the Inquisitor was not exactly a happy moment for him. The Inquisitor is an amazing woman, fierce in battle, a level head, and still so gentle. He has cherished the time they spent together and the closer they grew the more he realized this was not just simple attraction. He truly felt something for the Inquisitor and that was the problem. He was not who he claimed to be. The Inquisitor was always so brave and did what was right no matter the consequences. She didn’t run, but that’s what Blackwall was doing wasn’t it? He couldn’t continue this relationship until he atoned for his past sins. Even if the Inquisitor was going to hate him for it, she deserved the truth and Blackwall needed to do this. Besides living a lie wasn’t exactly a good foundation for a relationship.

Iron Bull: Bull always enjoyed spending time with the Inquisitor. They were fun, knew how to have a good time when things weren’t so intense. He wasn’t surprised when they came asking about the Bull. Most people were curious, and he wasn’t going to lie they were pretty attractive as well. Feelings were always complicated for Bull. He had lots of fun with the Inquisitor, and he was quite oblivious to his own growing emotions. The time they spent together in private was always amazing and special. He got to know a special side of the Inquisitor that was only for him. It wasn’t really until a few weeks after becoming Vashoth that it hit Bull. He was just sitting in the tavern, thinking about all of the crazy shit that had happened and his mind kept wandering back to the Inquisitor. How their smile seemed to brighten up the room, the way their nose scrunched up when they laughed, how even though an alliance with the Qun demanded the sacrifice of the Chargers but they wouldn’t allow it. They truly cared for Bull… He laughed a little to himself and covered his mouth. Shit… so this was what love felt like huh? 

Cassandra: Cassandra is absolutely horrible at realizing her own emotions let alone those of other people. It took her longer than she’d like to admit to realize that the Inquisitor was even flirting with her. Then she grew flustered because could this truly be happening? It felt like something out of the novels she read, the strong charismatic leader falling for the stoic and hardened seeker? If only… They were too busy for relationships weren’t they? They were but that didn’t stop her from continuing to spend more time with the Inquisitor. He was very charming and he knew just what to do to make her laugh. The moment she realizes she’s fallen in love with the Inquisitor is when he sets up a little picnic date outside of Skyhold. She was confused at first but then he started reading poetry to her and she couldn’t help but laugh a little. It was ridiculous and perfect. She couldn’t believe he would go through so many lengths just to impress her. He was sweet and she realized she truly did feel something for him. She wanted this to work, wanted them to work as a couple, so she let herself hope that it would. 

Sera: Oh it was so easy to fall for the Inquisitor once Sera got to know her. She had a great laugh and she was brilliant when it came to pranks. They were great together and Sera realized that she wasn’t just feeling friendship. The Inquisitor made her feel all mushy, like want to hug her and kiss her sort of mushy. The mushy feelings always complicated things so she waited a little, she wanted to make sure she wasn’t the only one with those feelings, and maker it was worth the wait. She couldn’t believe that Inkie told everyone that she loved Sera. Once she was done laughing Sera kissed her Inkie because, “Awe I love you too Inkie. Still can’t believe you said that to everyone.” She’s going to tease the Inquisitor, but it truly meant the world to Sera that the Inquisitor wasn’t going to hide her feelings. 

Josephine: The Inquisitor was always kind, it was very easy to get along with them. They would spend time together, Josephine would be able to blow off steam, and the Inquisitor would as well. When they were together time had no meaning and hours would pass by like minutes. She found herself missing them more and more whenever they were on missions. When they both agreed to having feelings she was nervous. She didn’t know if this could be anything more than a few dates because of her engagement, but her feelings only grew more. The Inquisitor always knew how to cheer her up after a long day, how to make her smile. She loved the way they laughed, how they could talk for hours about topics that interested them. When she realized she loved them it was just something so simple. She recieved a bushel of flowers with a small note, “I’ll be home soon

Cullen: Oh he’s so oblivious and awkward when it comes to his own emotions. He’s never really been good at them because he’s the “keep yourself distracted with work so you don’t have to deal with hard emotions” type. The moment that he realized he was in love with the Inquisitor was when they saw him at his lowest point. Quitting lyrium is taxing and sometimes fatal, the headaches are bad enough, but it’s the shakes and the small fevers on the bad days that really get to him. He doesn’t want to feel worthless. His mind kept saying that he should be taking it, that he’d be stronger if he did, but he didn’t want to wear that leash anymore. He didn’t know they were entering his office when he threw the vial against the wall and quickly apologized. They didn’t get mad at him, they just encouraged him and helped him calm down. It was then that he knew he was in love. They were so gentle, so caring. They saw him at one of his lowest points, they knew about his past, and they still encouraged him by telling him it was never too late to change. They made him feel like he could succeed and truly he loved to be around them. The way their face lit up when they laughed, the little twinkle in their eyes when they talked about the future, stolen moments where they were alone to just hold each other close, gentle kisses under the stars. He was in it deep and now he realized how much so. 

[purplellamanator]

A/N~ Hey so this one is for @mirrorfalls I'm sorry it took so long but here it is and I'm sorry, I wasn't too sure which commission you were talking about so I kind of did my own thing with it 😬 I hope you like it anyway! Please enjoy and thanks for taking the time to request! 💜 I know you said there were two others you were considering so I tried to incorporate number 5 in there as well for you 😊 Also, just a warning, it is a bit limey if that makes sense ;) Nothing too intense though! 

Vampire~ Person A is a vampire and Person B is their human donor

Slave~ Person A is of the lowest class possible. Person B is on top of the world. Person B takes a liking to Person A and buys them

oOo

He didn't understand her one bit. She made absolutely no sense. One moment she could be perfectly fine- happy even. And then the next, it was like he was the worst being to ever be in her presence and she wanted nothing to do with him. Or at least, that's how it felt. Of course with how neutral she kept her features, he could never truly tell how she was feeling.

She was a walking, talking contradiction. He just didn't get what she wanted from him. What was her problem now? What had he done? What hadn't he done? He knew from previous donors that humans could have random mood swings but none of them had ever been to this extent. And none of them took this long to warm up to him.

Unless he called her over- or demanded was more like it since she tended to want to hear that instead, she wouldn't even come near him. Sometimes he'd get frustrated and physically pull her towards him. She always gave him this large berth of space that he absolutely detested. At first he had been offended. Maybe it was her way of saying he disgusted her. Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Not all humans were donors by choice. In fact very few of them were. But after a few days and paying closer attention, he realized it was her way of being respectful not to intrude on his space unless he specifically asked her to.

It was something he was not used to. All his other humans were usually fawning over him by this point. Of course in the beginning they all were a little standoffish; unsure of his preferences. But once they realized he wasn't nearly as demanding as other owners, they easily relaxed.

This one did not. It had been a month and still no progress.

The real question was why did he continue to deal with this? He didn't have to. All it would take was one call and she'd be shipped off to the next buyer.

But Shinichi did not appreciate the thought of that. The very thought of someone else owning her made his irises bleed red.

He did not want that at all. He wanted her. That's why he bought her after all. Deep down though he knew that it was more than that. He wanted her to want to stay with him. And not that she fought him constantly but she was so complacent. She was too complacent. It was like she didn't have a mind of her own and he couldn't tell if that was because she had been mishandled before him or because she simply did not care.

The thought crossed him that maybe she was just shy. It wasn't strange for fresh donors to be like that but if he was told correctly at the auction, he was not her first owner by any means. Still wanting to believe it was her timidity that held her back, he wanted to get her accustomed to him.

He had been thinking about it for awhile. To be completely honest, he had been thinking about it since he first saw her. That he didn't just want to use her for his daily meal.

Ran- as he had practically forced her birth given name out of her after what felt like an interrogation, was . . . beautiful. She was very well the only human he had ever described as such. Most were . . bland; nothing that compared to the women of his kind. But she . .

The moment he saw her on that stage, he knew he would be taking her. At any cost, it didn't matter. If she was already owned even, he'd of found a way. Her skin was an unblemished, porcelain white. Her flush being the only proof that she was not one of his kind. Her irises were the most vibrant shade, almost purple.

There was definitely a different hunger he wanted her to sate.

Not even wanting nor needing to buy a donor in the first place, he had spent way more than what he had been planning. He had only shown up to keep up appearances yet left with a brand new slave.

Now he had a slave he had not needed and on top of that he was feeding from her far more than he needed to- far more than what he should, though there was never a complaint from her. Again he thought that perhaps she was too timid. He really needed to get her accustomed to him.

Not for the first time, his mind swirled with varying ideas on how to do that. Leaning against the frame of the doorway to his bedroom, his eyes followed her every movement. He was well aware that he was making her nervous as she flit around, folding his laundry before placing them in their drawers. He never asked her to do any of this. She simply took on the task as her own and he never felt the need to stop her. It was one less thing that he had to do as well as the sight of her picking up after him, taking care of him, pleased him. With those thoughts as well as the fact she seemed to be getting more tense from his watchful eyes, it was a reminder that he had to do something about her anxiousness before it got out of hand.

"Ran," he called gently as he straightened from his post. Though she had obviously known he had been there, for some reason his voice still managed to startle her as she gave a slight jolt.

"Kudou-sama?" Her eyes looked at his before flying to her feet nervously. She tried to play it off as her bowing her head slightly in respect but he wasn't fooled. That and the title she gave him pissed him off.

This was damn ridiculous. She wouldn't even look him in the eye anymore. He tried not to let that deter him though. She was just shy. She wasn't used to him yet. But they would get there. He would make sure of it.

Walking closer to her, he made his steps heavier to alert her that he was in fact moving. He being what he was, he had often scared her with how silent he was. He didn't want her to be frightened right now of all times when he was trying to get them closer. After this though, there wouldn't be any possible way to get closer.

. . .

"Undress me."

Her head still remained bowed as she remained frozen. Shinichi would've thought that she hadn't heard him if it wasn't for the way her whole body tensed.

She had heard him. And she understood.

At first he wondered if she'd deny him- turn him away. He hadn't ever been rejected before, by his donor no less. . .

When her head rose, she was still not looking at him in the face. It was dead silent between them, save for her breaths that came in nervous pants. She still didn't do anything after that. They stood there for what felt like minutes with him just waiting for her to do something or at least say something.

Her hands rose shakily till they grasped the top buttons of his shirt. Suddenly her fingers were tangling with the buttons, struggling to even get the first one undone which was baffling considering she wasn't moving all that fast. She was taking her time yet still couldn't even calm down enough to take his shirt off.

Seeing her struggle enough as he had been watching her hands the entire time since they started moving, he gently removed her fingers that had tangled in his button up. Quicker than she could probably see, he had the entire front of his shirt open yet he didn't bother removing it from his sleeves. Instead, he was grabbing one of her hands again tugging her firmly into his chest where he forced her palm flat against his skin. He wasn't telling her she had to touch him. He only wanted it to be clear she could if she wanted to.

She seemed unsure still. When her smooth skin was placed against his own, she did not move to pull him closer. All she did was stare at where her fingers were splayed across his chest. Deciding she still needed a little help, he removed one of his arms that were wrapped tightly around her waist to grip her chin gently.

He was sick of her looking at her hands. Shinichi wanted her to look at him. Preferably in the face. Angling her so she was forced to look up at him, he watched enraptured as her normally porcelain skin blossomed red. He couldn't help himself and leaned down to press his nose into the flesh of where her nose and cheek met. He wasn't near her pulse yet but he could still hear it thrumming and he inhaled deeply; soaking in the scent that magnified with her blush.

Shinichi wondered if her flush stretched all the way down.

Not even asking because he knew she would only comply if he did, he gripped the bottom of her black t-shirt before yanking it over her head in one quick movement. Like he knew she wouldn't, Ran made no noise of complaint. The only sign that she was aware in the moment was that her flush intensified as well as she was refusing to look him in the eye again.

The one arm that was still wrapped around her waist pressed her towards him again; his other hand angling her chin up again but this time sharply. He wanted her to stop looking down.

Complacent as ever, she got the message and even though it was shaky from nerves, her gaze never moved from his. And it was like he was put in a trance. He had not been expecting her indigo eyes to pull him in so enticingly. It had his mouth falling open slightly. That and the sudden scent of blood that hit him.

Eyes snapping down, he realized she was biting her lip. She was biting it too roughly and had broke the skin.

Stretching a his thumb up from where his hand still held her by her jaw, he pulled the flesh from her hold under her teeth. He watched in fascination as a small drop formed from where she had forced the delicate skin up.

He connected their mouths together. It was slow to him but probably to her eye, faster than anything she could process. Immediately his tongue sought out the cut on her lip, licking up the blood in the process of him sealing the small wound. He had no intention of pulling away after that however and he was angling his face closer to hers.

Suddenly he felt her nails digging into her chest from the palm he had completely forgotten he placed on his skin. That and he hadn't expected her to leave her hand there. It didn't matter anyway. All he cared about was that though she wasn't pulling him towards her, it was like she was anchoring him to stay near.

Exponentially pleased, he couldn't help himself when he forced his tongue past her lips. He felt more than heard the way her breath hitched as his tongue began tangling with hers wantonly.

Again, faster than she could possibly see, he had her laying on her back in an instant. He could feel the exact moment she realized what he did because her pants were coming harsher into his mouth; her hand that he had placed against his chest had her nails digging into his skin roughly.

Pulling away slightly, he allowed his lips to drag across her skin, all the way down to her sternum. She was still wearing her bra and teasingly he pulled on the fabric where it met in between her breast, with his teeth. It had her breath stuttering even more and way beyond the point of wanting to take his time, he raised her slightly before swiftly removing the last piece of clothing that covered her chest. With no regard, he carelessly threw it over his shoulder.

Eyes completely focused on the view before him now, he realized that- yes, her flush did stretch all the way down. That and with the way her bare chest was falling and rising with each of her labored breaths, he couldn't be bothered to look anywhere else. If possible, she was more satisfying than he ever thought she could be.

Still staring and hyper-focused on her breasts, he allowed himself to lean back down again where he braced his weight on his hands that he placed on either side of her head. Her legs had to seemed to naturally fall on either side of his hips as she almost cradled him to her. Experimentally and unable to resist, he ground his pelvis against hers.

Instantly, he was rewarded with a whimper. He was pretty sure that was the loudest noise he had ever heard come from her. She was always so quiet. He welcomed the change. 

Though it had never been his intention when starting all of this, he could already feel the sensation of his fangs trying to elongate. And not being able to help himself, he gave in, burying his face back into the delicate skin of her neck.

Usually he tried to give her some form of warning before he just bit down, but not in the right state of mind and thoroughly taken over by desires, a contented sigh escaped him as his fangs sank deeper into her flesh. He felt her jump slightly but by this point he was too far gone as he steadily pulled his fill from her.

As it almost always seemed to be, he once again found himself stuck- trapped in his head. Shinichi was completely unaware of how long he fed from her. The only telling sign that it was getting to be too long was when the hand that had been digging into his chest suddenly began to go slack. Quickly taking that as his wake up call, he forced himself away. Even he was panting now and technically he didn't even need to pull air into his lungs.

Still, she was quiet. Save for her little breaths, she hadn't uttered a single word. Out of concern he looked to her face. He hoped he hadn't taken too much. He was always cutting it too close. And though he would always scold himself after doing it, he knew it would not be the last he did so.

Her eyes when he met them were wide. It had him leaning further away in concern, disregarding that he still hadn't closed the wound he just reopened on her neck.

Ran didn't look like he had taken too much at all. She didn't look the slightest bit drowsy or disoriented.

She looked scared.

And he recoiled immediately.

Still slightly hovering over her, he pulled himself away to the point that her palm was no longer touching his bare chest. Understanding that he was pulling away for space, her hand quickly snapped back to where it hovered uncomfortably, but protectively, between them.

Her eyes were watering and he was horrified to find that they were unshed tears.

He had frightened her. He hadn't meant to but that was still no excuse. He had just thought she'd been enjoying it. Her hand was on him the whole time and not once had it pushed him away.

It also didn't pull you closer, he snapped at himself sarcastically and that's when he realized that her hand had not moved from that place the entire time. Knowing her though, she probably saw him explicitly putting her palm there as an order not to move it.

Moving away completely, he came to a stand at the foot of his bed. He turned his head making sure not to chance looking at her again. Whether that was from his shame that he scared her or because he didn't want to get stuck on the fact she was still topless, he wasn't sure.

Hearing the mattress creak, he knew that she had sat up.

"Kudou-sama-?"

"I'm done," he interrupted her before she could finish that blasted title. And then it was silent again. When a few moments passed and she still said nothing, he took a peek at her.

And immediately snapped his gaze back.

She was still without her shirt and bra but her sitting up was showcasing an almost completely different view. That and the bite he hadn't yet sealed had begun to bleed. A small drop had formed and had trickled down her neck and was working its way between her breasts.

Feeling the need to feed again, he knew it would be unwise to keep her here. "I've had enough for tonight," he swallowed hard. "You should go."

Shinichi didn't like dismissing her but he needed her to get away from him. He needed to get his head on straight.

It was silent for a few breaths again and then his bed was creaking once more as she rose to her feet. It was while she was bending to pick up her discarded clothes that he stopped her from walking by him completely.

He hated how her eyes filled with a brief panic that she quickly disguised but he pulled her by her arm all the same. He had to do this or she really would lose too much. Either that or her scent would send him into a frenzy.

Mostly to calm her down, he nudged his head in the direction of her neck. She was still topless and he knew she was aware. He could tell she was uncomfortable based off how tense the air between them was. She was expecting him to take more. More of what- her blood or her body, he wasn't sure. Both were tempting enough.

Already his mind was drifting.

"I need to seal that," he finally said as excuse for why he stopped her and also as a reminder to his wandering mind.

Surprised and like she had forgotten he even fed from her in the first place, she slowly nodded her head. Having the permission he knew he didn't need, yet still wanted, he carefully placed an arm around her waist while the other tilt her head to the side by her jaw. Just from that position, he was getting distracted and took a moment to assess the contrast between her pallor of her creamy skin and the crimson that dripped slowly from her wound. Suddenly his throat was feeling tight again.

Before he could get sucked in and ahead of himself, his tongue was latching onto her wound where he swiped his tongue across it. He could feel her pulse race from the contact but after it was closed, he dropped his arms before he could do something foolish. Forcing the space between them, he knew she was confused at first. He knew that even after he said what he would do, she had still expected the latter of him feeding from her. She did not trust him.

The fact that after that, she still was wary of him and probably even more so than she had been before. It was enough to quench whatever need he had just been feeling. In that moment, and for the first time since he had seen her, he didn't want anything to do with her. All he wanted was space.

Turning his head away to look at the far wall must've been dismissal enough for her because she got the message. Whether it was the sudden coldness in the room or his abrupt show of hostility, she quickly grabbed the rest of her things and fled the room.

[risottostitties]

I love your headcanon posts! what are some of your headcanons (backstory and personality) for the rest of La Squadra?

Oh boy, these got kinda long. I hope you enjoy my dumb rambling about La Squadra (also my bias towards Melone and Sorbet+Gelato is showing I’m so sorry) I added the songs I used for inspiration on Sorbet and Gelato’s stands so that’s something lmao

Also also I’m still trying to figure out formatting on tumblr I’m so sorry.

Also also also I have so many dumb headcanons for the inner bureaucratic workings of Passione and what each ‘position’ in the gang entails and how Passione became a dominant force in Italy and oops I’ve slipped them in here a bit my b.

Fromaggio

-        He got his start smuggling. Drugs, weapons, people, Little Feet made that a breeze.

-        The thought of being an assassin never crossed his mind, because it seemed like a lot of work. More so than smuggling which was basically just getting stuff from point a to point b without getting caught.

-        Fromaggio was a confident dude, laid back and easy going with an agreeable personality that most people enjoyed.

-        He’s not exactly details oriented though, and that’s what came to bite him in the ass.

-        He was working with one of the few groups not affiliated with Passione and it was only a matter of time before the operation was busted.

-        Fromaggio never really asked many questions about his jobs, nor did he care very much who or what he was smuggling. He met with a man in Malta seeking entrance into Naples and was willing to pay handsomely. So of course, Fromaggio agreed.

-        If he’d been paying more attention, he would have recognized that man as Prosciutto.

-        Fromaggio brought the assassin right into their main warehouse and it was game over from there.

-        Prosciutto took interest in Fromaggio’s stand and decided against killing the man, instead bringing him to Risotto to see what the Capo thought about his abilities.

-        When offered a choice between dying with the rest of his old associates or joining Passione, the choice was obvious.

-        He really, really enjoys gambling. Prosciutto supplements his income with Fromaggio’s gambling habit.

-        Fromaggio gets along well with all of La Squadra. He’s always been an agreeable dude and he’s willing to give just about anything a shot once. So he’s at least passingly knowledgeable about the interests and hobbies of other members.

-        Fromaggio, Prosciutto, Pesci, Ghiaccio, and Melone make up the main ‘kill squad’ of La Squadra where Illuso, Sorbet, and Gelato handle clean up and intel gathering.

 Illuso

-        Illuso does very little killing himself. For the most part, he deals with disposing of evidence. The mirror world is great for that.

-        Because of this he has the lowest kill count out of all of them.

-        He is Sicilian like Risotto, and they converse in Siciliano when it’s just the two of them. Neither of them is particularly chatty though.

-        Ghiaccio and Pesci didn’t know he was a member of the squad for weeks because he rarely ever leaves the mirror. He doesn’t even have a room in their hideout, he just sleeps in the room of whoever forgets to cover their mirror.

-        Most of the time its Pesci’s room because he feels bad

-        I hc him at about 27

-        He joined La Squadra after Ghiaccio and was more or less ‘gifted’ by Polpo because of his quiet demeanor.

Ghiaccio

-        He’s baby (24)

-        His first kill was at age 18 when he was working in a chop shop and beat someone to death with a wrench.

-        Melone was the one to bring him into La Squadra, his bike was getting some work done in the shop and he was there to see Ghiaccio snap.

-        Risotto wasn’t keen on letting someone so young join La Squadra and initially turned Ghiaccio away. Which pissed the boy off enough for him to seek out Polpo, demand a trial, and come back with White Album.

-        He had never skated in his life, but White Album gave him the instinctive ability to do so.

-        He can only skate while wearing White Album. Without it, he actually had to learn.

-        He reflexes and balance also improved greatly after gaining White Album

-        He’s the only one not ‘trained’ by Prosciutto, instead Risotto took over his ‘training’. The Capo wanted to personally make sure he was equipped to handle the life that comes with La Squadra.

-        Risotto and Ghiaccio are quite close. Risotto was initially intrigued by White Album and Ghiaccio liked Risotto the most because he was the only person who was careful with his words.

-        He’s got a keen eye for detail and an eidetic memory. He enjoys taking apart electronics and seeing how they work (and how he can improve them)

-        Ghiaccio enjoys working with cars, but doesn’t like all the oil and grease.

Melone

-        I hc his age at 28

-        He was always too inquisitive for his own good, and very curious as a child. Most people found him annoying

-        Melone has absolutely zero respect for personal space. If he likes you, he will hang off you without a second thought.

-        And if someone retaliates jokes on you he think’s its hot.

-        It is possible to make him angry, but he won’t let it show out of spite. You really gotta be angling for it if you want to piss him off, and if you’ve put in that much effort into getting a rise out of him he’s not going to give you the satisfaction.

-        His mom was like Giorno’s, a party girl who resented her children for holding her back

-        He has an older half sister who took care of him when he was younger. They were extremely close.

-        From her he learned to paint nails, braid hair, and they both really enjoyed looking at horoscopes and other astrology/pseudoscience things.

-        She was 10 years older than Melone, and when she married Melone went to live with her (he was about 12 at the time) and he never really got along with his brother in law.

-        Her husband was in Passione, a low ranking Soldato but an ambitious one. She was aware of her husband’s occupation but decided the risk was worth the reward (and the financial stability)

-        Her eventual pregnancy led to Melone’s fascination with pregnancy and childrearing.

-        She died due to complications with a late term miscarriage when he was 16

-        After this Melone and his brother in law stuck together. Melone joined Passione, receiving his stand from Polpo’s Arrow.

-        The pair of them had a pretty good scheme going on but eventually his brother in law bit off more than he could chew, and Risotto was called in to clean up the mess.

-        Babyface proved to be a challenge, and instead of eliminating Melone as he was working with the target Risotto decided to offer him a choice.

-        Self-preservation won out and in a show of loyalty Melone had Babyface kill his former brother in law. At best, he tolerated the man because his sister loved him and after she died he was a good meal ticket so when his life was on the line it didn’t take much prodding for Melone to turn on him.

-        It took a while for Risotto to trust him because of how easily Melone’s loyalties shifted but once that trust was earned Melone never gave Risotto a reason to regret it even if his impulsive decisions (such as dragging Ghiaccio into Passione) caused him some trouble occasionally.

Pesci

-        Pesci is actually, genuinely, a sweet guy. He’s respectful of his superiors, polite (if not a bit awkward) to strangers, will offer help if he sees someone struggling with a heavy bag or something on a high grocery shelf, the whole nine yards.

-        He has a habit of second guessing himself and apologizing often but is quick to offer reassurance to people if he sees they’re having a bad day.

-        He also has a hair trigger temper and killed a man by snapping his neck with his bare hands.

-        That’s what landed him in jail.

-        Its like flipping a switch with this guy.

-        Risotto personally bailed Pesci out of jail and brought him into his team because of his brute strength. It was novel, to see someone so capable without a stand.

-        He received his stand from Polpo’s arrow.

-        Pesci is the newest member of La Squadra, but not the youngest (that honor goes to Ghiaccio) and I personally hc him at 25

-        His ‘training’ mostly consists of shadowing Prosciutto and observing how he does things. There is a lot to be learned from watching another stand user work, even if their stands are vastly different.

-        He lacks real strategy, which is another reason he was teamed up with Prosciutto (who winds up ‘training’ most of the new recruits anyway)

-        He’ll be considered a full fledged assassin once he completes his first job on his own (with Illuso or Fromaggio tailing him to observe, depending on the abundance of mirrors)

Sorbet and Gelato

-        Of the two, Sorbet is the most talkative. He’s got a pretty good sense of humor, and a natural charisma about him that puts people at ease if they don’t already know him

-        Gelato and Prosciutto are both card sharks and they keep their skills sharp by practicing on each other.

-        While no one would call any of them selfless, they would lay down their lives for each other without hesitation.

-        They have so many words unique to their relationship that people listening in would assume they’re talking in code half the time.

-        Sorbet and Gelato are the oldest members of La Squadra. Sorbet was 36 when he died, and Gelato was 41

-        Sorbet got his start in Passione, Gelato was part of a ‘merger’ so to speak.

-        The previous syndicate Gelato was a part of was assimilated by Passione after Diavolo returned to Italy. He was familiar with Pericolo as they had been part of the same group.

-        Sorbet and Gelato both have stands, although they were both born stand users.

-        Gelato’s stand is called Mack the Knife and it allows him to eat anything regardless of size (and his stomach acid has a ph value of 1.3). On top of this, it also gives him sharp and study teeth. If for some reason something he eats breaks a tooth he has more in reserve, like a shark.

-        Sorbet’s stand is called Fortunate Son and essentially it hides the user and anyone they touch in plain sight. They’re not invisible, but you must be consciously looking for Sorbet in order to find him when Fortunate Son is active.

-        They joined La Squadra before it was ‘La Squadra’ Risotto (being green himself at the time) wanted more experienced people on his team but had little to no luck recruiting people until these two.

-        They’re well known in the gang for their unorthodox (putting it gently) methods of doing things and kept most people from approaching them.

-        Primarily they ‘interview’ people for information on Squadra targets, but those interviews always turn deadly.

-        While they enjoy killing more than anyone else in La Squadra, they don’t typically get kill jobs because they’re just good at interrogating people. They make do with that just fine though. Neither of them enjoys leaving loose ends.

-        Before Illuso joined, Gelato oversaw clean up and disposal.

[looselucy]

Different

January 30th It had been a long time since I’d sat across from Sam Jacobs, a pint on the table and nothing but silence between us.

He’d been consistent for over two weeks that he needed to talk to me. He’d text, called, turned up at my door, turned up at work. Almost every day since he’d been back, he’d made some form of attempt to talk to me, and I had grown completely tired of it. I felt it was easier to just get it out of the way. “How’ve you been?” He asked me, seemingly nervous. “Fine.” I mumbled, not caring to know of his wellbeing. Another reason I’d met him was in an attempt to keep Harry’s anger at bay. Harry, who I’d been with almost constantly since the night of the storm. Luckily, he’d missed most of the times when Sam had tried to reach out to me, and I hadn’t told him because I didn’t want another repeat of the night that he’d attacked him outside the pub. But then I’d been round at his house when Sam tried to call me, and he’d been frustrated at that alone. “Why’s he calling you?” He had asked, brows low, words dripping with hatred. “I have no fucking idea.” I’d groaned, rolling over to my side of the bed. “I keep ignoring him, but-” “You keep ignoring him? This isn’t the first time he’s tried it?” “Harry-” “Let me answer. I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him where the fuck he can go.” “Harry, no, leave it!” I knew he’d get like that so I knew it was best to avoid it, as much as I could. The bottom line was that Harry and Sam were never going to see eye to eye on anything, and I’d do what I could to keep them apart as much as physically possible. Talking to Sam felt like the best way of starting that. “So what do you want?” I barked when he had been quiet for too long, the pub practically empty. “I wanted to try and explain myself. I wanna apologise, properly.” “Go on then.” “Do you have to be so hostile, Alfie? I’m trying to have a mature conversation with you.” “I really hope you’re kidding, Sam. You should consider yourself lucky I’m even here.” “And I do, but there’s no point in either of us being here if shit isn’t going to change between us.” “So then say what you need to fucking say, Sam!” I yelped. “I’m not gunna plaster on a smile to make you feel better.” “Fine, but then if you could just-” “OI!” Gina yelled from behind the bar, shutting us both up. “Calm down, both of ya! It’s too early for a bloody brawl yet.” It wasn’t even 6 o’clock. I’d only just shut the shop, it was a Wednesday night, we were the only people in there. Gina was used to a scuffle in her pub, but it wasn’t the expected time for it, and she was clearly in no mood. I bit at my tongue, trying to calm down for her sake rather than Sam’s, who apologised to her over my head. I folded my arms, waiting for him to say his piece. He ran his hand through his hair, and to say he’d been so adamant that he wanted to sit down and talk with me, he seemed absolutely clueless with what he wanted to say. “I think about what happened constantly.” He sighed after some time. “And it’s… a blur, I was fucked, but… I remember how scared you were and it’s ruining me, Alfie. I know I’ve been a shit boyfriend at times, I can admit that, but that… That’s not who I am. I need you to know that that’s not who I am.” I knew that much, or at least I had thought that way, once. It was out of character for him, but that didn’t mean I could simply dismiss it. Just because I hadn’t seen it from him before clearly didn’t mean it wasn’t there. That side of him did exist, and he’d proven that. He dropped his head, discouraged by my steadfast tough exterior. “I’ve been with my mum, trying to get some space and figure everything out, but it made everything worse. I’ve been hating myself, and then I told her what happened and… You should have seen the look on her face.” He ached. “Like she… was disappointed, but like she’d been expecting it. You know what she said to me?” I shrugged, icy, uninterested, waiting for excuses from him, waiting for him to dull down what had happened, expecting the worst from him. “You are your fathers’ son.” He snarled as he repeated his mothers’ words, and my attitude wavered a bit then. My face dropped, my body deflated, knowing what that would have done to him. He’d always been so close to his mum; I couldn’t believe she would even say that to him. What Sam had done that night was in no way acceptable, but I knew just how abusive his father had been, and his actions paled in comparison. “Shit. M’sorry.” I weakened somewhat. “Fucking true though, innit?” He shook his head, broken compared the boy I’d once known. He’d put on an act at the pub the other week when Harry had fought with him, but the truth was Sam put on an act a lot of the time. I’d had an intense relationship with him for years, I knew what he was like on his own, when he was vulnerable, when he was real. I knew Sam at his lowest, and this was beyond that. “It’s not true.” I gulped, finding myself wanting to make him feel better, which was not the initial plan at all. “I know what your dad did to you and your mum. You’re not like that.” Even the fact he was clearly remorseful, meant he was nothing like his father. That abuse had gone on for years, with no shame, no regret. Both Sam and his mother had scars from the things he’d done to them, physical and mental, and even after what had gone on, I knew that Sam wasn’t capable of that. “But I don’t wanna be like him at all. I don’t want even an ounce of that, y’know. And I feel so sick about what happened, and I just wanted to sit you down and… tell you how sorry I am. Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry. You… You’re perfect, you don’t deserve that. You’ve never been anything but amazing to me, and… I dunno. I think losing you just… messed with me, and I’m sorry.” I believed he was sorry. I’d believed he was sorry at the time, as soon as he’d come to his senses, but it was never going to be quite enough. I’d never be able to look at him the same way, I’d never be able to trust him and have a normal friendship with him. I didn’t necessarily forgive him, but I understood him. “Okay.” I nodded eventually. “I get it. I hope you feel better… after this.” “I hope so too.” Things got awkward quickly, but thankfully, I had a good reason to leave. I was glad I hadn’t bought a drink. “I’m gunna go, Sam. I’ve got a defence class with Harry, so-” “Harry?” “Yeah.” He huffed, and although I had to be slightly more understanding of his disdain after the fight they’d had, if you could even call it that, I still didn’t appreciate his apparent hatred toward Harry. “What’s his issue?” He glowered. “What?” “What’s his issue with me?” “What do you think, Sam?” “Why does he even know about it? It’s none of his fucking business.” “But it’s my business, and I can tell whoever I want, so I told him. I dunno why you’re so touchy about him.” “He had an issue with me before that anyway. I’m not touchy about him, I just don’t trust him. He’s more fucking violent than I am.” “Drop it, Sam.” “The lad’s bad news. He just wants to get in your fucking knickers, Alfie. Open your eyes.” “I’m done.” I said blankly, getting to my feet. “Thanks for your weak attempt to make things right, but I’m really fucking done.” He tried to call me back to him, but I didn’t want to hear another word. I’d actually been foolish enough to believe for a few moments that we’d be able to end the conversation on a relatively positive note. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how bad things could get if Sam actually knew about what had been happening with me and Harry, whatever the hell that was. We hadn’t really discussed what was going on with us since we’d sort of rekindled the night of the storm, we’d just fallen back together in a wonderful way. We spent every minute we could with another, and it felt incredible. We’d been unbelievably close for the past few weeks since he’d shared what had happened to his father with me, closer than we’d ever been, closer and more intimate than we’d ever been, and as far as I’d been concerned, and we’d still kept it all to ourselves. We hadn’t really talked about it, and I wasn’t sure where we were heading, what was going to happen between us, what we really meant to one another, but it was something we wanted to explore, and for the past few weeks that had been enough. Keeping things between us still felt like the best thing. Rosebury had a big mouth for such a small place. I slammed the door shut behind me, taking a few steps in the right direction before I heard a voice. “Oi.” I turned around, seeing Harry leaning against the front wall of the pub, gym gear on, ready for the first one-on-one session we’d had for a very long time. Seeing him made me smile in ways it never had before. “Hi.” I calmed from the sight of him alone, slowly walking over to him. “What’re you doing here? I said I’d meet you at the gym.” “I know, sorry, I just wanted to check on you. I was feeling… uneasy. Annoyed. Sorry.” “It’s okay.” “How’d it go?” “Not great, to be honest. The boy’s a total wanker.” I rolled my eyes. “I could’a told you that.” He smirked, making me smile. “As long as you’re okay?” “I’m fine, let’s just go before he sees us and has a bloody meltdown. He really hates you, y’know?” “Feeling’s fucking mutual.” He tutted, looking back over his shoulder as we set off towards the gym. I don’t think I’d appreciated just how much of a blessing it was that Sam had left when he had. It had been nice to just exist for a while without having to worry about him, without him being around, without even needing to think about him. I truly despised the fact he was back, that I had to deal with him again. I really didn’t have the energy for it. It still felt more likely that Harry would disappear again rather than Sam, and I hated that. “You ever need me to smack him one again, I’d be glad to.” “I thought you tried to avoid all that stuff?” I tried to withhold my smile. “Summat about him though, I don’t really mind.” “Well, thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.” I hoped that Harry would be able to control his anger the next time he had an encounter with Sam, whenever that would be. He seemed to be quite playful with his threats, but I couldn’t guarantee things wouldn’t get rowdy when they were face to face with one another. The past few weeks that Harry and I had spent with each other had been divine. Unexpected, but divine. When I’d gone to see him on New Year’s Day, I had already made my mind up, confident that the feelings I’d developed were not shared. I was utterly convinced that there wasn’t a chance that his heart had shifted in the way mine had, and as painful as it had been, I’d settled into this state where I had no other option than to move on, try to get over him. He’d proved me wrong, in his own way. He was still quiet, but he’d said enough, he’d started acting differently, in the little things he did. He had told me that whatever he felt with me had to mean something, and I agreed. It was still something that we needed to test, tease, try. But his actions had changed, slightly, yet enough for me to notice and flutter with excitement with every touch. He was so tender with me, and he always had been really, but it had increased. He’d hold my hand, lock me in his grip at night, stare at me for no other reason than looking. There hadn’t been much more of a discussion in regards to his family and his past since we’d spoken about his father, but I could tell that it had been a constructive experience for him.  A weight had been lifted, and I could see it in everything he did. He seemed to be doing better, have a lighter aura than the heavy one he’d carried before. Things were good. “So what’s on the cards for today’s class?” I queried. “We’re early, actually.” He said, checking his watch. “So I think maybe… enjoy some alone time before I start the lesson.” “And what does alone time entail?” I asked suggestively. “Uhm,” He chuckled, somewhat nervously. “Whatever you want it to.” “Interesting.” We turned the corner, the building where he held his classes coming into sight, but that wasn’t all we saw. Stood by the door leading inside, was Libby, Chloe, and then Niall was sat down on the floor, all with their gym-wear on, shivering, waiting to be let indoors. “THEY’RE HERE!” Chloe squealed excitedly, Niall leaping up off the curb, stumbling to his feet and rushing towards us. “What the hell are you doing?” I giggled when he collided against me, took me into his arms, giving me a big cuddle. “We thought we’d come and try out one of these one-on-one lessons.” Libby explained as Niall squeezed the life out of me. “Uhh,” Harry seemed both amused and unsure. “This is kinda one-on-four though.” “Don’t worry, it’s just a one off.” Libby smiled. “Next week, we’ll leave you be, but after learning what Sam did to Alf, you’re not the only one who wants to smack him in the face, Harry.” I’d asked Libby to tell the group what I’d told her about me and Sam, because otherwise I would have never heard the end of it. After what Harry had done, it was either tell the truth or deal with endless questions that I couldn’t answer, so it was best to just let everyone know and then we could forget the whole thing. She’d told them all at some point over the past few weeks, so they were all up to speed and incredibly understanding of Harry’s actions, despite the fact it definitely wasn’t the best way to handle any situation. I felt so much better about them all knowing than I thought I would. “Alright, fine.” Harry sniggered, going to unlock the door. “Niall, nice to see you’ve finally joined.” “I’m so sorry that bastard did that to you.” He ignored him, still hugging me, words wafting through my hair. “If I’d have known I would have been right there with Harry punching him right to the ground.” “Well then I think it’s a good job you didn’t know.” I tittered, pushing him away towards Harry, who was holding the door open for us. “And you.” Niall sighed to him. “What a legend you are. The way you just took him out, boom. I loved it.” “Thanks.” He sniggered. “Don’t encourage him!” I tried. I walked through the door, glancing over my shoulder as I wandered up the stairs to see Harry and Niall share an attempt at a discreet high-five, rolling my eyes and then journeying on. “OI OI!” We heard from outside, seconds before Harry closed the door. “Sorry we’re late!” I recognised Louis’ voice and knew that Lin would be with him. I got to the top of the stairs, turning to see them both arrive, out of breath, almost crashing right into Harry as they came to an abrupt halt. “Holy shit, you’re all here!” Harry cried. “Avengers assemble!” Lin spoke proudly, before they all started walking up towards me. Grinning, I made my way into the room, practically giddy over the fact they’d all turned up for this session, and that was before I’d even spotted that Louis had even put on legwarmers and a sweatbands for the occasion, one around his head and one on either wrist. We all went into the gym, the lads complimenting Harry on the space since it was their first time there, and I felt so ridiculously happy. The only reason they’d turned up was for my benefit, to make me smile, to make me laugh, to make me feel better. I knew the next hour or so wouldn’t be spent too seriously, but they wanted to show me that they had my back. The entire setup was all there to put a smile on my face, and it was working marvellously. I loved them all so much. “How much do we owe you?” Louis asked Harry. “Huh?” “How much do you charge for one of these sessions? Don’t think we’re not gunna cough up.” “Oh. I… Well, I don’t charge her.” “What?” Chloe gawped. “I see her for free.” He shrugged. “It didn’t feel right to make her pay. Not after what happened. So… it’s free.” “You’re really just the perfect man, aren’t you?” Niall sighed. “Hardly.” He disagreed, then clapped his hands together. “Alright, c’mon. Spread around the room, get your own space. I wanna see you all do some lunges. And make it sexy!” The lads were on it instantly, Louis looking as though he was a dancer they’d removed from the ‘Let’s Get Physical’ video, and I burst out laughing within seconds. I felt so ridiculously happy.

I liked seeing Harry in my bed. Usually, we spent time at his place, but since mine was first on the walk back from the gym, it just made sense to stumble into my flat and call it a night. We’d avoided our usual routine of going to the pub, which hadn’t been too suspicious given how exhausted the lads were after attending one of Harry’s actual classes. He’d asked them to stay, try it out, be serious after over an hour of the seven of us completely messing around, and they’d said yes. By the end of it they all looked like they were about to pass out. So that meant we’d wound up at my place, and Harry was back in my bed. He looked right there, wrapped up in my pink duvet, almost naked beneath it, watching me as I made us hot chocolates wearing nothing but his shirt, ignoring the rain outside. Things felt calm, comfortable, right. “Today was so much fun.” He smiled dozily. “Wasn’t it?” “Sorry we didn’t get to do our class though.” “That’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” I shrugged, turning down the heat on the hob. “It was good. It kinda… Well I guess it sort of felt like a different sort of therapy to the usual ones, but therapy nonetheless.” “Good, m’glad.” I poured out our drinks into the mugs I’d gotten out and then approached him, passing his over to him before clambering onto my side of the bed and crossing my legs. “I love how much they all care about you. How you all care about each other.” He spoke gently, staring forward. “Y’know… you’re a part of that now. You know that, right?” I said, but he didn’t say anything. “They care about you, Harry. They really do, and I do too. A lot.” “I dunno, I just… I sometimes still feel like I’m intruding, and-” “Fuck, please don’t feel like that. They all adore you. It just works, doesn’t it? You fit in so well. Y’know… when you disappear and stuff…” I approached the topic anxiously. “They all miss you, and worry about you, and… We want you to come home. You’re a part of it now, you’re not intruding.” I sat up, turning so I was facing him and crossing my legs, despising how unsure he seemed. “I guess I’m just not used to it.” He sighed. “Get used to it.” I smirked, spotting how coy he looked, making me think that really deep down, he knew all this already. “You’ve moved somewhere great and you’ve got a whole group of people who really care about you. It’s a really good thing, don’t look so… freaked by it, okay?” “Okay.” He smiled softly. There were still a lot of things I wanted to ask Harry, a lot of questions I had about him that still hadn’t been answered, but I didn’t want to rush any of it. I didn’t want him to feel obligated to tell me every single thing. Just because he’d worked up the courage to talk about one thing, didn’t mean it would all come naturally from there on out; it was still going to be difficult for him, an uphill struggle against the forces that had kept him down and held him back for so many years. All I wanted him to know was that when he was ready, I’d be there for him, listening, attempting to ease the pain in any way I could. I was starting to believe then when he’d disappear for weeks at a time, it was to go and visit his mother or his brother, wherever they might be, but I was patiently waiting for him to confirm that. However, there was a conversation I believed the two of us did need to have, and I needed to take the plunge and say it. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon, are you?” I asked. “You’re gunna… stay here, right?” “That’s my plan, yeah. I’ve got no intentions of… moving again. I like it here. Feels good.” “Okay, good. So… I was just kinda wondering… what’s going on with us.” I had my eyes down, fixed on my drink, both hands clasped around the porcelain. “Us?” “Mm.” Although things had been so amazing between us, so zealous and beautiful, we actually hadn’t slept with one another since he’d gotten back. I wasn’t entirely sure why, and I’d instigated it before, but he’d always backed down, asked that we wait. I think he had wanted to feel that difference, be completely sure of the change between us, and maybe he wanted to prove that to me, too. Everything had been so physical before he’d finally managed to speak, and I believed he wanted to demonstrate that things truly had transformed, that whatever we were now was not the same as we were in the last year. But I had missed being with him that way. I missed feeling him and being wholly enveloped by him. We had kissed endlessly, had our hands all over one another, but we still hadn’t returned to that place, we hadn’t rekindled that special connection we had fully. Things felt good, they felt right, but I wanted to make sure that we were headed in a direction of true romance, finally on the same page. He didn’t say anything for quite some time, so long that I actually managed to lift my head to look at him, find him staring at me, smiling sweetly. “You’re really fucking cute. Are you aware of how cute you are?” He grinned. “C’mon, Harry.” I extended my leg briefly to kick him weakly. “I’m really putting myself out here-” “Hey, I know, I know.” He reached for my hand, snatching it away from the mug. “M’sorry.” “I just don’t want us… to fall back into the routine we were in before. But I also don’t want you to think that we can’t… be like we were before. That doesn’t make sense, does it? Fuck. I don’t… I dunno.” I sighed heavily. “I don’t want to keep going with this, if you don’t feel… what I’m feeling. And you know what I’m feeling, so I’m just… Yeah, okay, I’ll shut up. You talk.” Without hesitation, he leaned down to the ground so he could place his drink on the floor before coming back up, hitching towards me, taking me cheek in his hand and pulling my face so our lips could meet, almost agonisingly tender. “Harry,” I gasped against his lips, the tips of our noses brushing as he turned his head from one side to the other. “Talk to me.” “I want this.” He whispered between kisses. “I want you.” He took the drink out of my hands, rushing to place it on the ground beside his before coming back to me, raising his body to hover over mine and force me to lie down, his mouth latching to my neck. I closed my eyes, chest rising. “Tell me this is different now.” I asked breathily. “Tell me this isn’t like it was before.” “This is different. We’re different.” “Please tell me you feel how I do. Tell me I mean something to you.” He lifted himself, pressing his forehead to mine, lips parted, brows low, fingers tangling into my hair. “Something?” “Something.” I giggled uneasily. “You mean more to me than something.” His voice was deep, assured. “It’s just me and you, Fee. Just me and you.” He kissed me again, tongue meeting mine within seconds, body hot and heavy on mine. It seemed even more complicated, somehow; keeping things from our friends when it meant more than just fucking, but I didn’t care. It suited the two of us, keeping things quiet, and I didn’t want to complicate something that already felt complicated. I liked things only being between the two of us, and until we knew exactly where we stood, I knew it was better to keep it that way. We still had a lot to learn about one another and the feelings we were experiencing. It was just me and him. We quickly became breathless as we kissed, and I half expected him to put an end to it again, ask that we hold out a little longer, but he didn’t. He pulled away and started undressing me, unbuttoning the shirt of his I’d been wearing, eyes gliding down my body as it was revealed to him. I lifted my eyes to look at him, watch his face, take it in, and I could see something was different already. The confidence he usually had, the assurance and the smugness, it wasn’t there. He seemed anxious, apprehensive, tentative, trembles trancing his body. I was starting to realise that with Harry, his actions often spoke much louder than his words. He hadn’t told me why he wanted to wait, he hadn’t told me how much this all meant to him, but I could see it. I could sense it and I could see it and it was enough. As he fiddled with the buttons on the shirt, I reached out, pulling the band of his boxers down and taking his dick in my hand, feeling it stiffen within my palm, short of breath. There was already an emotion tied to our intimacy that hadn’t been present before. We’d barely touched each other and it was so apparent, so forceful and potent. I was almost nervous, because I knew it was going to be so different to how it had been. It was like I was already threatened by the feelings it would bring. He leaned down to me, kissing me sweetly and briefly, tugging his boxers further down as I widened my legs, lolling my head back as his lips went down to my neck. He placed his fingers against my core, smoothing over me, testing the area before he put his tip against me, teasing my entrance for a second before he pushed in fully, cursing against my neck as he did. “Fuck.” I felt strangely overwhelmed. It had been around a month since we’d last slept with each other, but it felt like it had been so much longer than that. I couldn’t believe the feeling that washed over me then, when he pushed in fully, his head dropping down to the side, landing on my shoulder. He was still, taking a moment to breathe, take in the sensation he was experiencing. I wondered what had altered in him, what had been the thing that made him realise he felt more, that things between us needed to be this way and not how it had been. I wondered if it had hit him in one moment, or if it had been gradual, that I had played on his mind when he was away, that he’d overthought and questioned both his head and heart and then come to the conclusion that he needed more from us in the same way I did. He had been so different with me since we’d relit our flame, but seeing his reaction then truly confirmed how differently he was feeling about us, how bright we burned. He had told me himself that sex wasn’t special to him, and it had only been a matter of seconds and I could see that had changed. It was likely that this was the first time that sex had ever been special for Harry, and that was happening with me. He brought his head around to rest it on mine, motionless, breathing heavily. “What the fuck.” He whispered. “Mm. Agreed.” He giggled, easing a little after that and lowering his mouth back to mine to kiss me again, his body soothing into the feeling. Slowly, he started to move his hips, winding them leisurely and taking my jaw into his hand, wonderfully tender with every move he made. My chest was rising and falling at an alarming pace as I lay there just taking it, allowing myself to consume and cherish every single movement of his body and every single emotion that ambushed my heart. It wasn’t the first time we’d been so delicate and relaxed when we slept together, and Harry was tender more often than not, but it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t captured in the speed or the way he touched me, but instead it was seized in my heart and my mind; it wasn’t necessarily the physical act anymore that was the cause of the pleasure we were experiencing. As painful as it had been, I was thankful we’d waited, avoided sex for some time. It made the feeling all the sweeter. “I’m so obsessed with you.” Harry sighed. I could have stayed in that moment forever. If the option was there, I would have, just so I could always embrace that feeling. It was a sensation like no other, to be so completely engrossed by someone, for them to be the only thing that mattered. I wasn’t simply obsessed with him in return, I was obsessed with us. Groaning, he reached a hand downwards to touch me, play with my sensitivity, gasping as our tongues met again, sliding together as I cracked my neck back. Heat was a fixture within every inch of my body, burning in my stomach and lighting my chest with unprecedented blazes. The sparks of our passion were rushing across my frame, dashes of fire dancing across my skin, speckled across me like flicks of paint. Being with him was magic. My body spasmed as his fingers flicked over my clit, Harry reacting to my tremors. “Holy fuck.” He trembled, his lips stretching into a gorgeous smile. “I don’t think I can last.” “I’m not surprised. The past few weeks have just been like fucking foreplay.” He laughed again, chuckling as he rested his forehead against my temple and started kissing my cheek numerous times in quick succession, my skin likely bursting bright pink beneath his lips as I giggled. “You’re amazing.” He mumbled against my cheek, before looking down to me again, completely still now, out of the moment and yet somehow making the moment even more special. We were so ourselves, so natural and smitten. “I’m… I’m sorry. For waiting, I mean.” “Don’t be sorry.” “I just… I… This is all so new for me. All of it. I’ve not been with anyone… like this before. I’ve not felt any of this before and I really… I wanted to be sure of it.” “And are you?” He answered me by gradually lowering his mouth to mine and kissing me, slow at first until suddenly it wasn’t. He thrust, hard, before he grabbed at my waist and pulled me with him as he shot up on his knees, soon falling back and placing me upon him so I was straddling his legs, squealing as he moved me like my weight was non-existent. I was in shock, chuckling as I grabbed at his face, steadying myself. “I forget how bloody strong you are.” He bit his lip and pulled me even closer, holding his dick so that I could easily lower myself onto him, satisfied and awed the second we joined again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding myself close, tracing my tongue against his bottom lip before he widened his mouth to welcome me, his fingers gripping tighter on my waist. Leisurely, I swirled my hips, feeling as though I was concentrating more on the way we were kissing than anything else, focusing on our closeness, our intimacy. I felt so small when I was pushed against his frame like that, his hands shrinking my body with their obscene width. I moved my hands, crawling them up his jaw and that latching into his hair, pulling momentarily before the tips of my fingers caressed lightly down the centre of his neck and then scratched brazenly at the top of his back, thriving off the grunt he fashioned because of my assault on his soft skin. He bucked his hips, biting at my bottom lip, scrunching his nose as he did, raising one hand to latch at my neck and push my head even further towards his so that there was no chance of distance, keen to keep my lips with his, strong, fierce. I couldn’t get close enough. I was practically smothering him and I still wished there was a way we could be closer, for every inch of my skin to be in contact with him somehow. I’d never had sex with quite so much passion before. I’d never had sex that felt so beautifully overbearing. “Alfie,” He gasped. “You-you need to chill. M’really not gunna last if you keep moving like this.” “I don’t care.” I mulled, kissing his shaking lips. “Finish, I don’t care.” “Fuck. I’ll make up for it, I’ll- Fuck that’s it.” He ground. “You feel amazing.” I kept my eyes on him, embracing the sight, embracing the feeling I got that I was doing that to him, that he felt so good because of me and the way I stirred atop him. He tried to gather himself for my sake, rushing to take his lips to my chest and then down to my nipple, his hand moving from my waist to press his thumb firmly against my clit, jolt it brutally back and forth. I was absurdly sensitive, wanting to flinch away from the contact yet at the same time praying he wouldn’t stop, my whimpers a mixture of pleasure and agony. I distanced from him, but he pulled me closer, kissing back up my chest and neck until our lips met again. My whole body ached with satisfaction, so overwhelming it was like I could burst into tears at any second. “Ha-Harry… I can’t.” “You can.” He brought his wet thumb upwards, gently forcing it in my mouth. “C’mon, boss.” I plunged my hips forward with force, sucking on his thumb and releasing, my orgasm taking complete control. My neck slackened so my head fell backwards and his thumb fell from between my lips, his hands returning to my waist to keep me in place so he could thrust into me a final few times, cursing with each peak. I grasped at his neck to weakly pull myself upwards so I could watch him as he came, his lips parted but still smiling somehow, eyelids shimmering, hair messy, blissed out in such a beautiful way. I was completely infatuated. He looked dizzily happy. I stroked the backs of my fingers against his cheek, kissing the tip of his nose. He opened his eyes, looking over my face quietly. “You’re so beautiful.” His voice was quiet, breathy, but confident. “Don’t-” I blushed, dropping my head. “No, I mean it.” He put his fingers beneath my chin and lifted my head again. “You’re beautiful.” I didn’t really know how to accept his kind words, biting nervously at my lip and turning bright red. I simply wasn’t used to it from him. I wasn’t used to it at all, really. “Not too bad yourself.” I mumbled. “Not too bad?” He smirked, lifting a brow. “Mm.” “Alright. That’s good enough for me.” He shrugged. “I bet my hot chocolate’s cold.” “Is that really what you’re thinking about right now?” “Yeah.” “You’re something else, Hunter.” He sniggered. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get snuggled.” It was so nice to hear him say cute things like that. I’d managed to fall for him when he was quiet, reluctant to share, when our intimacy was practically confined to sex; I had still fallen for him then, and suddenly things had changed. He was opening up to me, saying adorable things and being so tender with me and my feelings were swelling with each passing second. We readied ourselves for another night in bed, eventually returning to our hot chocolates, which thankfully still had a bit of heat, enough that I could drink it comfortably. Soon, we snuggled down close together, side by side, facing one another. “Fee?” “Mm?” I just about acknowledged him, my eyes closed and mind woozy. “You make me really happy.” I bolted my eyes open then, sort of shocked by his words. I don’t know why I was shocked. He’d always been so nice to me, and I could tell from the way we were that I was making him happy, but just hearing him put it so bluntly actually surprised me. “I do?” “The happiest I’ve been for years.” “That… That’s not just down to me.” I dismissed. “I think that’s because of everything you’ve got in Rosebury.” “You’re the main thing.” He said bluntly. “I… Really?” “Yeah. No doubt in my mind.” “I… I feel the same way.” He grinned, bashful as he swept me into his arms, tucking me into his body and kissing the top of my head. I could barely comprehend the change we were undergoing, but I was loving everything about it. It was the happiest I’d been for years. I cuddled close, pecking his lips and smiling coyly. “I like being like this with you.” I admitted. “Mm. I didn’t… I didn’t realise how much I’d like it, really. But it’s… Yeah. I’m sorry I struggled. I don’t… I don’t feel like I’m struggling anymore. I dunno if that makes sense.” “As long as it makes sense to you.” He nodded, and I found myself wondering if he meant he didn’t feel like he was struggling in general, rather than just struggling to open himself up to actually be serious with someone, let his emotions take control. I felt like he really had been struggling within himself, and slowly, it was getting easier for him. He brushed his thumb across my lip and then kissed me again, my stomach spiralling with the sensation, butterflies fluttering around in there carelessly. “I’m just glad you’re mine.” He hushed, our smiles growing against each other as he cupped my jaw. “My Fee-Fee.” I hit his belly playfully, gently, the butterflies escaping my stomach and flying around my whole room, surrounding us completely. I think that was the first moment I fully accepted that he saw me as his. And it was the first time I’d been able to accept that he was finally mine.