#he might have been able to develope feelings

[stellar-solar-flare]

I’m so glad to finally be back to this story! The end of the year 2024 was a rotten cherry on top of a trash fire cake which was a drain on my energy. But I definitely haven’t forgotten about this one – especially since I have been super amazed at how quickly you’ve been able to write this story and publish it. You’re awesome! I’ve seen some light spoilers to this on my dash from people’s comments so I know it’s going to be a ride and I’m here for it!

You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.

Oh, interesting. So we’re seeing subtle hints that she’s a Steve girl right off the bat – but then again, like when we see her think about her friendship with Pepper, it’s clear that she’s not just starstruck or someone easily swooned by celebrity status. Are we harboring perhaps a little crush here?

Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.

I always say in comments that I enjoy it when we see the little things that make the Reader similar to Steve, or qualities that I know Steve will find attractive, and I feel like working in a non-profit is definitely one of those. Doing her best to make a better world.

You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in.

I don’t read a lot of post-Endgame fics / fics that deal with the Blip one way or the other, but when I do read them, I immensely enjoy writers working with all the things that the Blip would cause, and I think we’ll see a layered, deep approach on it from you in this fic! I’m definitely curious.

"There's Maria Hill," Pepper continues, "who's handling security and intelligence briefings. She's got connections that'll be invaluable. Then there's Peter Parker - you might know him as Spider-Man - he's officially our youth outreach coordinator, but he's also got a brilliant scientific mind that we're tapping into for policy development."

Oh it’s lovely to see that Peter is still around the Stark Foundation even with Tony gone, and hehehe, the little reveal of his identity. I love how competent we see Pepper be here, how she’s been so good at putting this team together.

You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.

I love how you wrote her shock here; it makes sense that her first reaction to this would be anger – she would feel like she’d be just a trophy wife when she’s been hoping for a big role. And while I’m certain she’ll have just that big role, it makes sense that initially a marriage of state, essentially, would sound insane in modern-day America.

"I know," Pepper says softly. "That's part of the plan. We want to show that leadership isn't about who you're married to or what your last name is. It's about vision, compassion, and the ability to bring people together."

But I really like this point. It feels very Steve – I adored all the glimpses we saw into his plans through her thoughts, as well as her note about not even being able to sleep – to create a world like this and especially lead by example.

“We have an opportunity to show what a healthy partnership in marriage could look like to new generations. You’re my first and only choice because of your skills, experience, and the vision I know you would bring to the table. But you’re also my first and only choice because I think you two are well-suited for each other.”

I really really love this, in addition to the way we see Pepper go through the strategic side of this, the polls and expectations and all this. This feels like something that Steve would agree to, in the end. After all, he is from a world where marriage wasn’t so focused on romantic love. But since he is a romantic, I’m definitely looking forward to them falling in love.

A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”

Hehe, more of the little things that show they’re similar.

And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.

I love her your honor. I always enjoy Readers that are shown to be competent and not afraid of going after what they want. Also this is a very Steve thing again.

You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.

Oh, I’m intrigued by this. Is she a widow too?

"You must be the future Mrs. Rogers," Sam says with a warm smile, extending his hand. "I'm Sam Wilson. Steve asked me to come apologize and explain - and to have breakfast with you, if you’ll have me.”

Oh, I wonder what came up for Steve to skip this. But aww, I hope she and Sam end up being friends, as I can definitely see that happening.

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”

Oh, yeah, that makes sense. It’d be very beneficial for him, and I enjoyed seeing that Reader understands. And yay, we’ll be seeing more Sam in the fic!

“I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”

Oh, you and me both, Sam. I really really like this Reader. I’ll nickname her the First Lady for comment purposes, since that’s easier for me. I hope you don’t mind!

"Trust me, Steve takes this very seriously," Sam says, his tone becoming more earnest. "He may not know you yet, but he respects you and the commitment you're making. He's not the type to back out or let you down."

Oh, Aspen, you’re coming straight for my heart with this. This isn’t even a thirst trap, it’s a heart trap, and that’s worse. I love how serious we see Steve be about this from the beginning, and I really like how reassuring Sam is here too.

"But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."

Also this tracks, and I wonder if this is a part of Steve’s mindset too.

"Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."

This makes complete sense, and I am HERE for the pining and the slow burn that’ll follow from this. It’s very compassionate of Sam to warn her about this so she doesn’t get the wrong idea about Steve’s behavior, if he’s going to be a little distant. And also this has the delightful found family vibes – which are definitely highlighting some major loss in First Lady’s background, I mean, she has to have a hint of craziness and not a lot to lose to jump into this headfirst – that I always enjoy in fic.

Sam grins. "Trust me, once you two actually meet, you'll see what I mean. Just don't let that 'aw shucks' routine fool you. He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface."

I’m definitely looking forward to all this characterization; from the (shamefully few) works that I’ve read from you so far, I know you write Steve in a very human way. And this is definitely hinting towards how he’s not just the perfect soldier or the good man but human and I am always here here for it. And we love Sam for recognizing all this in his friend.

Also as a more general note, I enjoyed Reader having these little doubts about the marriage side of it working – there is definitely hint here that while she’s not waiting to be swept off her feet, she’s certainly not going for a simple marriage of convenience. I always enjoy fics that show that wanting love and to be loved aren’t mutually exclusive with things like strength or independence.

You learn about Steve's dry sense of humor, his unwavering loyalty to his friends, and his surprising skill at sketching. Sam describes missions where Steve's quick thinking saved the day, but also quieter moments - movie nights with the team, intense debates over board games, and Steve's ongoing struggle to catch up on pop culture.

I love this for her. And for Steve. That she goes into the whole marriage knowing not only Cap but also Steve Rogers. I am VERY excited for the wedding, and not just because I love weddings. I know it's the delicious sort of slow burn when they don't even lay an eye on each other in the first two chapters.

I’m so glad to be back at this and I’m so looking forward to diving into the next chapter! Sorry if I got a little rambly or overexcited but I had so many thoughts. I hope you're well and the muse is behaving!

Red, White & True: Manhattan & Brooklyn (1/?)

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers (future x curvy Millennial Female!Reader), Pepper Potts, Sam Wilson Word Count: 4k Summary: "There was an idea..." Words at the heart of what brought the Avengers together. Pepper Potts has persuaded Steve Rogers to step up and help again - but this time in a battle to The White House. She invites you to consider a key position.

Content/Warnings: none

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Prologue | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[MAY 15 - Manhattan, New York]

You try not to hold still while you wait in the lobby, but you’re nervous and the longer you sit, the more difficult it is to resist drumming your fingers, tapping your foot, jiggling your right leg as it’s crossed over your left, or even just chewing on your bottom lip.

You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. The lobby of Stark Industries is immaculate, all sleek lines and modern design. The large windows let in plenty of natural light, making the space feel open and inviting despite its corporate purpose.

Your mind wanders back to your college days when you’d walked into a different Stark Industries lobby for the first time, a hopeful intern wanting to make a difference at the then-new Stark Foundation office. Pepper had been very involved in building the Foundation at the time, and had become a key mentor and - as the years passed and you left Stark Industries - a dear friend. She had helped fuel some of your late-night study sessions through grad school. Living in a new state, she had shown up and seen you through breakups, family drama, and the stress of putting together your thesis. Even when your paths diverged, you'd managed to stay in touch.

Back then, she’d become like the older sister you never had, seeing you through some of the difficult years figuring out how to be a real adult. Now, here you are, waiting to potentially join a presidential campaign she’s orchestrating for none other than Steve Rogers.

The receptionist's voice startles you out of your reverie. "Ms. Potts will see you now."

You stand, smoothing down your carefully chosen outfit - professional, but not stuffy. As you follow the receptionist down the hallway, your mind races with possibilities. What position could Pepper have in mind for you? Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.

As you approach Pepper's office, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. The door opens, and there she is - Pepper Potts, looking as poised and confident as ever in a crisp white blouse and tailored navy suit. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her smile is warm and welcoming.

"It's so good to see you," she says, embracing you in a quick hug. "Come in, please."

You step into her spacious office, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Pepper gestures to a comfortable-looking chair across from her desk, and you sit, trying to keep your nerves in check.

"I appreciate you coming on such short notice," Pepper begins. "I know it's been a few years since we’ve been able to catch up - even before the Blip.”

You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in. “I was happy to come! And of course I don’t mind a trip on the Stark Industries dime,” you say with a grin.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine, thanks."

Pepper settles into her chair, folding her hands on the desk. "So, I know I told you we’re putting together the campaign team for Rogers for America, but I'm sure you're wondering more specifically why I called you here."

You nod, leaning forward in your chair, eager to hear Pepper’s vision.

"We're putting together an incredible team," she begins, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've been reaching out to some of the brightest minds in politics, economics, and social justice. We have former White House staffers, grassroots organizers, and even a few unexpected faces from the private sector who are eager to contribute their expertise."

You are instantly intrigued, trying to imagine the caliber of people she's describing. Your mind races with possibilities - perhaps that brilliant campaign manager who orchestrated the upset victory in the last Senate race, or the economist whose revolutionary ideas about sustainable development have been making waves in academic circles.

"We've got strategists who are anticipating every move our opponents might make," Pepper continues, "and communications experts who can craft messages that will resonate with voters across the political spectrum.”

You listen intently, trying to pinpoint where you might fit into this powerhouse group.

"There's Maria Hill," Pepper continues, "who's handling security and intelligence briefings. She's got connections that'll be invaluable. Then there's Peter Parker - you might know him as Spider-Man - he's officially our youth outreach coordinator, but he's also got a brilliant scientific mind that we're tapping into for policy development."

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Spider-Man.

Pepper leans forward, her eyes locking with yours. "But here's the thing - we're not just assembling a team of political operatives and policy experts. We need people who understand the heart of what we're trying to do, who can see the bigger picture and help keep us grounded in our core values."

Your heart begins to race as you start to realize where this might be going.

"That's where you come in," Pepper says, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I've watched your career over the years, how you've navigated the non-profit world, building coalitions and making real change happen. You have a gift for bringing people together, for seeing connections that others miss. Your experience gives you a unique perspective that we desperately need."

Your heart races as you process her words. You had assumed you might be offered some kind of advisory role, perhaps in fundraising or event planning. Maybe even appearance management or offering occasional input on strategy. But from Pepper's tone, it sounds like she has something more substantial in mind.

"Where do you see me on this team?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I've been putting a lot of thought into this," Pepper continues, her voice filled with conviction. “You know we’re doing something unconventional. Did you read the presidential plan?”

You nod. Steve’s bid for President of the United States was still technically not public knowledge. You had signed an NDA - being told only that you were receiving a proposal Pepper wanted your input and consultation on, with potential to join the team if you supported the initiative, and just silence if you didn’t.

“It’s bold, idealistic, aspirational; but it’s also unapologetic, has clear plans of action, and could be transformational in ways we haven’t seen in living memory,” you give your assessment.

“And it’s something you could see yourself being a part of?”

You take a deep breath, but smile genuinely. “I couldn’t sleep the first night after you sent it over. I couldn’t stop reading, hoping, re-reading, imagining possibilities!”

“Good,” Pepper responds. “Perfect.”

“Put me to work wherever you need me!”

“I was hoping you would say that because I have a very specific position I need to get filled, and you’re my first - and only - pick for the job.”

“Pepper, stop holding out!” A nervous and eager laugh escapes you. “Tell me!”

Her response slams into you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Future First Lady.”

You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.

"What?" you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "Pepper, I... I don't understand. First Lady? But that would mean..."

Pepper holds up a hand, her expression serious. "We're not just running a campaign here. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country. Steve is an incredible man, and he needs a partner who understands the complexities of modern America, not just a trophy wife, someone who can connect with people from all walks of life."

You shake your head, still reeling. "But I'm not - I mean, Steve and I aren't even - we've never even met!"

"I know," Pepper says softly. "That's part of the plan. We want to show that leadership isn't about who you're married to or what your last name is. It's about vision, compassion, and the ability to bring people together."

Pepper leans back in her chair, her expression at least revealing some concern over your reaction. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"A lot to take in?" you interrupt, your voice rising. "Pepper, it's insane! It’s May, and the election is in November. How could I possibly be the First Lady?"

Pepper holds up a hand, trying to calm you. "I know, I know. Let me explain."

But you're on a roll now, your initial shock giving way to indignation. "Explain what? How you thought it was okay to offer me a position that requires me to be married to a stranger? Use me to score points?”

"I understand your reaction," Pepper says calmly, "but please, hear me out. This isn't about scoring political points or creating some sham marriage. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Go on," you say, your voice tight, “because you’re still trotting out marriage.”

"We can’t outright ignore traditional expectations and polling numbers. If Steve were running as the nominee for either of the major parties, we could probably win without him being married, but since he’s running as an independent, he needs a wife. That being said, we want to move away from the traditional concept of the First Lady as just the President's wife," Pepper explains. "The vision is a First Partnership. Two people who work together. There’ve been a few First Ladies who have done more with their platform and position, and that’s what we would want for you, too.”

You chew on your lip, not persuaded yet, but a little less angry.

“We have an opportunity to show what a healthy partnership in marriage could look like to new generations. You’re my first and only choice because of your skills, experience, and the vision I know you would bring to the table. But you’re also my first and only choice because I think you two are well-suited for each other.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Pepper raises her hand to stop you.

“You and Steve don’t have to put on a show and be madly in love - that’s not what I want, that’s not what he wants or expects either.”

You frown. “What does he expect?” you ask. And then you perk up even more. “Has he agreed to this? Shouldn’t he at least be here to make the offer himself?”

Pepper sighs. “It was easier for me to convince him to run in the first place than to agree that he needed a wife.”

“But you’re telling me he did agree?”

Pepper nods. “He did.”

You unconsciously rub the empty space on your left ring finger. “Couldn’t we just get engaged and leave the question of a marriage for whether or not he wins?”

A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”

“And…?” You raise your eyes expectantly.

“The public would rake us over the coals and accuse us of only doing it as a publicity stunt. The campaign would become a gossip column on your relationship status and nothing more.”

“But isn’t it a publicity stunt?”

“We can spin a marriage that seems to appear out of nowhere. Steve’s always been a private person when it comes to his personal life. We will tell people you met through me - which is true. I thought you were well-suited for each other - which I do. When people asked why the wedding just before announcing his bid for the presidency, we tell them you two didn’t want your relationship status to become the big question on everyone’s minds so they can focus on the platforms and policies instead and that every marriage takes work regardless of the length of the courtship.”

You sit in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process everything Pepper has said. The idea of marrying someone you've never met, let alone becoming the First Lady of the United States, seems utterly surreal. And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.

"I need some time to think about this," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Pepper nods understandingly. "Of course. It's a lot to take in. But I want you to know that I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you were perfect for this role. Not just as a political partner, but as someone who could genuinely connect with Steve."

You raise an eyebrow. "You really think we'd be well-suited?"

"I do," Pepper says with confidence and warmth.

You rub your ring finger again, but this time you see Pepper’s eyes drop to watch your unconscious action, and you quickly stop. Her eyes, when you meet them again, are full of sympathy. You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.

She can read that in your tight-lipped smile.

So instead she says, “I can give you three days to think it over.”

You sigh and rise from your seat to go. “I don’t know if that’s long enough, but if you give me three days or three weeks, I don’t think it will change my decision I’ll land on. Give me the night to sleep on it. I think I’ll know by tomorrow morning.”

[JUNE 4 - Brooklyn, New York]

Three weeks later, your life has been packed up and put in a truck on its way to the new brownstone in Brooklyn that’s been acquired for you and Steve to move into, and you’re sitting at a table in a café a few blocks away, waiting to meet your future husband for the first time over breakfast. Every time the bell rings over the door, you dart your head to see if it’s him, but he’s evidently running late.

As you wait, checking to see if you have any messages on your phone, the bell over the door chimes once more. This time, when you look up, your breath catches in your throat. A tall, athletic man with dark skin and an easy smile has entered the café. You recognize him immediately as Sam Wilson, the new Captain America. Your heart sinks a little as you realize Steve isn't with him.

Sam spots you and makes his way over, his stride confident but casual. As he approaches, you notice the way his eyes scan the room, a habit born from years of military training and superhero work. He's dressed in civilian clothes - a leather jacket over a simple t-shirt and jeans - but there's no mistaking the aura of strength and capability that surrounds him.

"You must be the future Mrs. Rogers," Sam says with a warm smile, extending his hand. "I'm Sam Wilson. Steve asked me to come apologize and explain - and to have breakfast with you, if you’ll have me.”

You nod, forcing a smile, and shake his hand. "Of course. I understand.” You motion toward the chair across the table from you, inviting him to sit. “I know campaign prep must keep him incredibly busy."

Ever since you’d accepted the proposition to marry Steve Rogers and join him on the campaign trail to the White House, your own life had turned upside down, giving you hardly any time to breathe, and you’d been told this was only a mild version of what your own schedule was going to look like once Steve formally announced.

���Former President Bartlet agreed to meet with him, and the schedules ended up aligning this morning for Steve to go up to New Hampshire for a sit down,” Sam explains.

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”

“I hope I’m not a disappointment of a substitute,” Sam teases. “Since we’ll be working together as part of the senior staff, I volunteered because I was eager to finally meet you.”

His smile is genuine, and you feel the absolute truth of his sentiment. It melts away some of your disappointment and worry.

In return, your smile becomes a little warmer and easier. “I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”

Sam laughs. “Oh, I’m going to love you, I can tell.”

“Just promise me he’ll actually be at the ceremony tomorrow?” you ask. Your tone is light, but Sam calls your bluff.

His laughter fades, replaced by a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he'll be there. Wild horses couldn't keep him away. Or androids. Or aliens. Or wizards. Or..." He trails off, realizing he might be overdoing it. "You get the idea."

You nod, appreciating Sam's attempt at humor. "I hope so. It would be pretty awkward to explain to the press why the groom was a no-show at his own wedding."

"Trust me, Steve takes this very seriously," Sam says, his tone becoming more earnest. "He may not know you yet, but he respects you and the commitment you're making. He's not the type to back out or let you down."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "I suppose I should get used to schedule changes and last-minute adjustments," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

"It's part of the package," Sam agrees. "But so is having a team of people who have your back, no matter what." He leans forward, his eyes meeting yours intently. "I want you to know that includes me. We're not just colleagues in this; we're family."

His words touch you deeply, and you feel a bloom of warmth in your chest, the firs time you’ve felt grounded since you agreed to do this. "Thank you, Sam," you manage to say. "That means a lot."

The waitress approaches, he orders coffee, and you both order breakfast.

As she walks away, you take a sip of the drink you’d ordered while you were waiting before, mulling over Sam's words. "Can I ask you something, Sam? You know Steve better than almost anyone. Do you think...?”

You hesitate, uncertain if you should voice your doubts to Sam. But his open, friendly demeanor encourages you to continue, and you’re going to need to learn to trust this new circle of people you’ll be surrounded with.

"Do you think this is crazy?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Marrying someone I've never even met, maybe becoming First Lady... it all feels so surreal."

Sam leans back in his chair, considering your question carefully. "Crazy? Maybe," he admits with a small smile. "But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."

You can't help but chuckle at that, some of the tension easing from your shoulders.

"Look," Sam continues, his tone becoming more serious. "I won't lie to you. It's not going to be easy. The scrutiny, the pressure, the constant demands on your time and energy - it's going to be a lot. But if anyone can handle it, it's Steve. And from what I've heard about you, I think you're up for the challenge, too."

Sam pauses as the waitress returns with your breakfasts and his coffee. Once she's gone, he continues, "Steve doesn't do anything halfway. When he commits to something, he's all in. And he's committed to this - to you, to this campaign, to trying to make a real difference."

You nod, appreciating his honesty. "And what about... us? Steve and me, I mean. Do you think we can make this work? Not just for the campaign, but as a real partnership?"

Sam's eyes soften. "Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."

You absorb this information, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity about your future husband. "I appreciate your honesty, Sam," you say softly. "I guess we'll both be navigating uncharted waters."

Sam nods, taking a sip of his coffee before responding. "True, but you won't be doing it alone. Not only do you have the support of the team, but I think you and Steve might surprise yourselves. You both have a strong sense of purpose, a desire to help others. That's a solid foundation to build on."

You pick at your breakfast, mulling over Sam's words. "I just hope we can find some common ground beyond the campaign," you admit.

Sam leans in, his expression earnest. "Like I said, when Steve commits to something, he gives it his all. That includes relationships. He may be reserved at first, but once he lets you in, you'll have his unwavering loyalty and support."

You nod, feeling a bit more reassured. "I appreciate that. I’m not some hopeless romantic, I’m not looking to be swept off my feet, but I just hope we can find some chemistry, some spark beyond just being political partners."

Sam chuckles. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that. Steve might be from the 1940s, but he's still a red-blooded man. And you," he gestures at you with his fork, "are definitely his type."

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. "His type?"

"Smart, independent, passionate about making a difference," Sam lists off. “

Your work in non-profits, your passion for social justice - that's right up Steve's alley. Plus, you've got that whole 'take no crap' vibe that he needs. I have a sense about these things, and you have it.”

You laugh, feeling some of the tension dissipate. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Though I have to admit, the idea of being Steve Rogers' 'type' is a bit surreal."

Sam grins. "Trust me, once you two actually meet, you'll see what I mean. Just don't let that 'aw shucks' routine fool you. He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

Sam shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'll let you discover that for yourself. Where's the fun if I spoil all the surprises?"

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. "Fine, keep your secrets. But seriously, Sam, thank you. For breakfast, for the pep talk, for everything. I'm really glad I got to meet you before tomorrow."

"Me too," Sam says, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast. "To new beginnings and unexpected partnerships."

You clink your own mug against his, feeling a surge of warmth and camaraderie. As you finish your breakfast, the conversation flows easily between you and Sam. He regales you with stories of his adventures with Steve, carefully omitting any classified details but painting a vivid picture of the man you're about to marry.

You learn about Steve's dry sense of humor, his unwavering loyalty to his friends, and his surprising skill at sketching. Sam describes missions where Steve's quick thinking saved the day, but also quieter moments - movie nights with the team, intense debates over board games, and Steve's ongoing struggle to catch up on pop culture.

As Sam talks, you find yourself leaning in, captivated by these glimpses of reality, getting to know more about the man behind the myth. And even if the next twenty-four hours will be a whirlwind of you choosing and getting fitted for your wedding dress; interviewing candidates that have been vetted for your personal staff - assistant, pr strategist, stylist, initiative director; and a bachelorette party; you feel like you’ll be able to face it all with the bit of reassurance you’ve gained by spending this time with Sam.

next part: LAS VEGAS & CLEVELAND

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

This story will have 3-4 chapters, depending on where I split up the narrative. I anticipate about a chapter a week, usually posted on Fridays.

[akutasoda]

my silence is my cowardice

prompt - words left unsaid

including - boothill

warnings - gn!reader, slight fluff, angst no comfort, wc - 855

a/n: req by the lovely icarus ( @fxngtasy / @rusted-pride ) <3 -> "if the new years reqs are still open,,,, perchance,,,z, perhaps,,,,,,,,, boothill,,,,,,,? mayhaps? no pressure of course tho if theyve all filled up ^u^ he just seems like he might fit w some of the prompts"

boothill was never one for sentiments.

he wasn't even someone who was good with words, so holding a sentiment was rather out of the galaxy rangers field.

perhaps it was due to the fact that he was a galaxy ranger - they didn't exactly live the most social lifestyles. or maybe it was due to the fact that bounty hunting wasn't a job for those who liked to socialise and spend time with people.

but whatever it was, boothill was perfectly comfortable with drifting through the cosmo's on his own. when he had a goal in mind and knew how to achieve it, that was his priority. finding the scum who ruined his life was always going to be his priority until he completed it.

he never really thought that he'd have anyone else in his life that he cared about more than his late family. staying in one place was an impossible occurrence and so he never developed deeper bonds with people than a friendly face value - he knew some other galaxy rangers and were quite well acquainted with them, but that wasn't exactly the same.

and yet here you were.

boothill had stayed a bit too long on the current planet and became quite well acquainted with you, the local who had accommodated him and even helped him with finding his way around.

and even with what little actual time he had spent in your company, he'd grown very fond of your presence. so much so that it was still quite a shock to him just how much you'd grown on him.

boothill could even be attributed to still being in denial that you'd grown on him so much. but the truth was there.

and it was evident by many different factors. namely that boothill longed for presence, everytime you weren't near he found himself wondering what you could be doing or how long it would be before he saw you again.

frankly, it was quite unbecoming of him.

boothill didn't like it one bit. it wasn't like him to care this much about someone else, especially one who he hadn't known for that long and so, it scared him.

everytime he caught himself feeling any kind of positive emotion toward you, he caught himself and near forced himself to snap out of it. he couldn't afford to form attachments to people - and even if he could, he didn't know how and the constant fear of losing the ones he loved was a constant nagging in the back of his mind.

afterall, you can't lose what you can't have.

“are you sure we can't meet again or keep in contact?” you poised, staring at the cowboy as he prepared to make his departure

he let out a low chuckle and shook his head.

but he was lying, and saying it through his teeth would've made him feel worse about it. boothill could always visit you or even give you his contact but he couldn't bring himself to do either.

he desperately wanted to, but he had to hold himself back.

so he stayed silent - it seemed cold and much too distant to still be the man you'd known before. boothill feared that if he allowed himself to speak, he would not be able to depart and leave you behind. that he would start getting his feelings off his chest and establish his desired attachment to you.

but it was best for him to stay quiet. he wasn't ever good with words anyway.

he'd been close to people before to know what happens when they get ripped away from him. his entire world gone up in flames within seconds. having people to care about never ended well for him.

and it certainly wouldn't now either. he couldn't go through that again.

some may call it the coward's way out, himself included, but boothill bid his farewell with as little words as he possibly could and prepared himself to go about his life as usual, before he'd met you. but you could tell something was off and boothill could see it on your face.

it pained him, you clearly showed care and concern for him and yet here he was treating you like someone he'd hunt down. he closed his eyes and sucked in a harsh breath.

boothill left without another word or even glance in your direction.

a harsh farewell to someone he cared about deeply but couldn't face to stay around anymore.

he really was a coward.

[elvearryn]

König + Horangi Headcanons

Regrettably, the brainrot has taken hold of me properly, so this was always going to be an inevitable post

(This is also a chance for me to compile and work out my characterization of these two, as a sort of warm-up exercise for writing them).

All SFW! Trigger warning for mention of scars, alcohol, gambling, violence (military), you know Call of Duty typical stuff

All the headcanons for each are separate for each character, a few mentions of Horangi in König’s list but that’s it

That being said, here are my headcanons for König and Horangi 🙏

Horangi bites the inside of his cheek when he’s thinking really hard or having an internal emotional tug of war about something, he actually developed this habit because he used to instinctively press his tongue against the inside area of his cheek that had been scarred (if you’ve seen the popular design where he has a scar from about the corner of his lip up to his cheekbone, and yeah. I like that concept a lot)

Horangi used to drink and smoke heavily, as part of his gambling days. He dropped that habit when he joined the military, and to this day absolutely resents heavy alcohol of any kind, but doesn’t actively avoid milder alcohol as much as he does the stronger stuff, he just doesn’t see the appeal in it anymore

Speaking of which, Horangi sucks at gambling, in fact he’s so terrible at it it’s a wonder he stayed in the business so long. He actually wound up so far in debt because he kept telling himself “it’s not statistically possible that I can never win.” So he kept trying to prove he was capable of winning (he wasn’t.) Eventually, he did quit, escaping debt by fleeing normal civilian life in the process

Horangi hasn’t touched gambling since, he’s wary of even simple card games (glances judgmentally at uno). Even if he still gets that itch sometimes, he curbs it by playing games that don’t involve luck at all

By that I mean Horangi loves strategy games. A downright freak about them even, this way he’s not risking any money on card games that might be rigged… (Horangi chess menace, anyone..? Not promising that he won’t try to cheat in checkers) and he swears like a sailor whenever he loses

Any rush Horangi used to get from gambling is gone anyway, nothing can compare to the adrenaline spike from being on missions. In comparison, gambling feels like a watered down high and a desaturated painting, it wasn’t anything like the vivid colors of the battle field experience… and even that could get boring sometimes…

(That is not encouragement to throw yourself into combat 💧)

Horangi loves silver jewelry, especially rings. But never wears anything gold or with gems on it, he prefers the sheen of silver, and thicker jewelry too, heavy banded rings and he actually considers his dog tags as something of a fashion statement… there was a point in his life where he had his ears pierced, and only ever wore silver or black for those, however the piercings have since closed up as they would have been a hindrance in his military work

When Horangi was a kid, he wanted to be able to skateboard, the kind of kid who thought kick flips and riding rails down the stairs was the coolest thing, unfortunately he was never really all that good on wheels, and didn’t have the time to master the hobby

(He sure as hell can snowboard though. Don’t ask me; it came to me in a vision)

Horangi was actually planning to get full tattoo sleeves on his arms, but discovered that he was somewhat unnerved by the constant jabbing of the ink needle when he got his wrists and forearms done the first time around, since then he’s been a little wary about getting more. It’s not that his pain tolerance is low, or that he’s scared of the process, he’s just kind of annoyed by the way it’s done and the time it takes since it leaves him with nothing to really do while he waits with the incessant jabbing of the needle… yeah, he’s not a fan

Horangi has scars on his back (tiger scars!!!) from his youth, they’re not pretty or nice to look at, all ridged flesh and awkward lines, he couldn’t sleep on his back for weeks while they healed; and even after that there was phantom pain.

Because of these scars, Horangi dislikes having his back to anyone even more than the usual soldier. Not because he got the scars in that way, but simply because he’s subconsciously aware of them being there and he doesn’t like the idea of having them out in the open (even though he knows they can’t be seen when he’s dressed)

Horangi likes to doodle, no he’s not a good artist, he just likes to scribble on things, drawing in the dirt with a stick when he was a kid kind of thing, always carries a pen with him and doodles when he’s bored

Horangi is a great swimmer, like athlete level good at it. Do not try to race him, he will win

Is an avid language enjoyer, Horangi actually likes exploring different languages and how they work phonetically as well as alphabetically. His English is remarkably good, even with his thick accent

On that note, Horangi’s penmanship is… less than perfect. Maybe a small case of doctor’s handwriting if you know what I mean. He tends to slant his words a bit, and it looks a little like chicken scratch, but it’s charming in its own right

Horangi likes rock and rap, I think when he was a teen he would have really liked No Brain, especially the song “내 가죽잠바 My Leather Jacket” as well as western heavy metal, though he likes rap and hip hop too, anything fast paced or with a heavy beat (guilty pleasure listening might be lighter r&b) if you saw Gangnam style in his playlist, no you didn’t

If Horangi played an instrument it would be electric guitar, but only as an excuse to shred until the callouses on his fingers split and he had to wait for new ones to develop

Horangi is selfless to a fault, he likes to think he wouldn’t go through hell and back for just about anyone when he knows deep down he would in a heartbeat, he’s always cared deeply about others, he just struggles a little to express it, very much more of a subdued affection kind of guy, shown through little actions instead of straightforward declarations which are a rarity, but do happen

Horangi likes the military because it gave him purpose and direction. And best of all- an outlet. What else was he supposed to do with his somewhat short fuse and need to release pent up energy? Bashing up enemy forces seemed a good enough way as any

Horangi takes his coffee black, americano. (Shamelessly stole this headcanon from his voice actor…)

Bonus :

(His words not mine, do with this information what you will)

Now… König is somewhat of a difficulty for me to work through, he’s a bit of a silly bastard I can say that much. Still working on disemboweling him to understand how he works so his list might be a bit shorter, but I’ll try my damndest

König is clumsy, not in a “whoops I fell down the stairs silly me…” way but in a “where the hell did I leave my keys..?” kind of way, which is funny because he always struck me as someone who pays attention to detail while also having situational blindness, like “holy shit there was a car right there” even when you could ask him what the arrangement of crates were in a cargo shipment and he could tell you exactly without needing to think hard about it

König is absolutely incapable of keeping himself still, one of the reasons he was denied the position of a sniper… whether it be literally twiddling his thumbs, or bouncing his leg, he is always moving one part of his body at any given time

Two words, bad liar… König is a terrible liar even, not even consciously he just isn’t good at not giving an honest answer, especially if it’s to people he’s comfortable being around. Shifting eyes, clenched jaw, kicked puppy sort of demeanor if he’s actively trying to withhold the truth, he’s bad at covering it up unless he’s annoyed, then he can evade giving a straight answer but otherwise he can be read like an open book

In terms of social interaction, König is not some sort of inept stuttering dork, rather I would simply describe him as a little out of his element in mundane social settings. He’s a menace on the field, and he’s comfortable with that, when he isn’t occupied with something physically or mentally demanding however… he’s a tad socially awkward. But he’s still brazen and a little cocky, albeit easily annoyed or flustered (not blushing wreck flustered, just at a loss for words and maybe a few confused blinks if anything)

König is also competitive and a bit of a grump honestly, he takes things personally and tends to overthink, maybe a bit of a bad habit that involves twisting things in his mind until they’re warped from what they initially were, but yeah he’s gonna take things as a challenge or a jab at his abilities (inferiority complex coming back with a vengeance in the form of feeling like he needs to prove himself constantly)

That’s not to say König isn’t a “gentle giant” he does have a soft spot and isn’t prone to picking fights himself, but he’s also… bipolar for lack of a better word, he would definitely treat something with the most tenderness his large hands can allow, but then turn around and obliterate an entire unit with a blind sort of unhinged arrogance that doesn’t take kindly to being rivaled

König is like a barely domesticated guard dog with self worth issues that present themselves through mild narcissism and social insecurity. Again, he’s a madman, just listen to his voicelines, Horangi may look insane on the outside but he’s actually relatively stable, König on the other hand is like a carefully constructed bridge made of entirely weak points that are holding themselves together by faint pressure and the whole thing is covered in tape that mask wounds instead of bandaids

If König played an instrument it would be drums, he needs to be able to bash on things, I think he would get frustrated with something like guitar or bass

König is a bit demanding with things he wants, and likes to think he can get what he wants with relatively little struggle, not that he’s a spoiled brat by any means, just that he sees something and goes “I want that.” And isn’t afraid to say that he wants it, and that’s basically saying “I intend to get it” but he also does have manners, and isn’t exactly extroverted, but he has an obvious sort of intensity about him that really shines on the field, he likes a good fight

(Que “Finally some worthy adversaries!” line)

König knows he’s strong and is confident in his abilities, but despite knowing this he still doesn’t take praise well. Or compliments, he’s all sure of his abilities until someone points out he did a good job and suddenly he has no idea what to say, similarly if he thinks he can handle something and voices that, and someone replies “yeah you’re right, you’ve got this” he’d be like “???” because he’s not used to the positive reciprocation, he’s used to only having himself and the physical proof that he can do things and do them well, so when someone points it out he’s at a loss

König is more likely to let German slip into his speaking than Horangi is to let Korean slip into his, König’s English also isn’t as good as Horangi’s

König is a little possessive and can get defensive too. Stems from his childhood, being picked on a bit he learned to keep his stuff close to him and be careful who he shares with if at all, and is not trusting even if on the outside he appears relatively open despite his social awkwardness

However, König likes having instructions and knowing what exactly needs to be done, he’s organized and likes not always having to make a lot of complex decisions— the structure of the military gives him a way to keep himself occupied in this manner. And he likes feeling like he has a use, even if it’s not exactly what he wanted

(He’s still bitter about not being a sniper).

König’s handwriting is surprisingly nice, it’s neat and simple, but he doesn’t write paper and pencil often, in fact he usually records numbers and data if anything, and types everything else. He likes using digital tablets

König takes his coffee sweet, and doesn’t care about the temperature, he’ll drink coffee that started out warm and sat out long enough to get cold.

Rammstein fan? König is guilty. Also loves Slipknot and Korn. Orange Sector fan to the end too. His guilty pleasure is instrumental music. (Sometimes he and Horangi share their music with one another)

König wears his hair long (not super long, just a little unkempt and about jaw length), and he has stubble. He keeps his hair tied in a low bun for missions, on leave and for downtime he’ll tie the bun higher

König is shockingly loyal, like makes a conscious effort to be loyal to people, and is surprisingly thoughtful about little things that others wouldn’t really pay much mind too. It’s sort of a subconscious thing actually, he remembers a lot of insignificant stuff for no real reason, it just sticks

In König’s mind, he has a few jokes he came up with that he thinks are hilarious but has never had a chance to say them and is also a little doubtful other people would be as amused as him, so he keeps them to himself.

(Horangi might luck out one day)

Cough… and that’s all!! I’ll update this if I ever think of any more. But yeah, that’s all I got. Hope you enjoyed

[eye-may]

Do you have any Munkustrap headcanons mayhaps? The people would love to hear it if you do <3

I was waiting for someone to ask about Munkustrap!!! granted I would have yammered about him unprompted eventually anyway but YAY!

pls accept this speedy doodle of Munk having, what I imagine is one of very many, serious conversations (tm) with with his protegee Alonzo <3

"alonzo I told you the kittens could not watch terrifier 3. I say the things I say for a reason. now neither of us will be able to sleep for a week."

all kidding aside, yesss I have a LOT of thoughts about Munkustrap and how he and his story drive a lot of things that happen in my fanverse lol. I'll keep it relatively brief for now because if I don't moderate myself I'll end up writing 100k words worth of incomprehensible diatribe. somewhat abridged yammering beneath the cut!

edit: this mostly ended up being formatted in extensive elucidations on his relationships with other cats, with references to his backstory through that...which I hope isn't baffling lmao hopefully yall can make sense of it

✨Personality

My Munkustrap is pretty heavily based off of 98's Gruberstrap. That is to say, he's a very "warm" version of the character, a softer and more patient leader compared to some other interpretations where he errs on the side of strict and stringent.

Munk has a pretty troubled background (not unlike Tugger and Alonzo), but I place his symbolic age at around 30-35 so that he's still young and has things to learn and growing to do, but still old enough to have already matured and wizened up past a matrix of self-destructive idiosyncrasies he has dealt with in the past. He may not fully realize it, but he wasn't entirely dissimilar to Tugger in his adolescent days (at least, insofar as feeling governed by his emotions). The temporal distance from his early youth has enabled him to mellow out, think more clearly, and capitalize on his better attributes such as decisiveness, a good grasp on strategizing, and being empathetic and caring.

He is, of course, known to be a straight arrow...that is to say, very about rules and order, following traditions, establishing a hierarchy, having respect for authority and elders, etc. However, he is not immune to lightheartedness and joking around. He's a good, gentle playmate with the kittens on occasion. He lives for directing plays (although subversively he might take them a little too seriously sometimes lmao). He definitely lets a Dad Joke slip out every once in a while. He can read and write, and is pretty erudite about a handful of subjects that extend beyond life in the Junkyard. He's a pretty well-rounded chap!

He's not particularly spiritual or mystical, but has always been fascinated by the mysticism inherent in felinity, and has a unique connection to the concept of magic due to his connection with Old Deuteronomy. He's more naturally attuned to felinity in every corporeal sense, and has strong and thoroughly-developed opinions about the meaningfulness of Jelliclehood along with its history and customs.

He's gentlemanly and intelligent, courageous and dignified, so a pretty archetypal 'leader/hero' character. his faults are brought out by adversity with which he is not familiar...as someone who prefers adhering to precedent and keeping everything in order, he feels very challenged by untrodden territory. While he's good at thinking on his feet, he's also prone to overthinking after the action, and letting that repressed sentimental side from yesteryears cloud his approach. When he's feeling menaced by uncertainty, you'll see those cognitions buoy to the surface...overprotectiveness, stubbornness (sometimes he's bad at listening to suggestions!), over-intensity, and over-worry that he tries his darndest to conceal. He may periodically fall into lapses of "work-life imbalance," for turn of phrase (feels weird because we're talking about mystical dancing singing cats but you get it).

Perhaps his biggest fault is difficulty ceding control. There is no bigger control freak in the Junkyard, even though many would probably assume that the title goes to Jenny. Jenny is more ostentatious in her form of leadership, yes, but Munkustrap is far more immoderate when it comes to judging what he can feasibly handle. Bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders, after all, does not a healthy habitude make. Munkustrap's elders...namely Jennanydots and Old Deutoronomy...occasionally remind him of that.

He also perpetually Tired (but doesn't show it!) and, despite maintaining his veneer of cool-headedness, does in fact Have Anxiety lol.

🫂 Notes on Relationships

Tugger - They are half-brothers, and symbolically, there's about 10-15 years between them. So the age gap is significant, but Munkustrap isn't exactly old enough to be his father (try as he might to parent him in the frequent absence of Old Deutoronomy). Truly the Annoying Younger Brother Ever, Tugger gets on his nerves faster and more effectively than just about anybody in his life. Granted, their pasts respective of each other aren't the most conducive towards a harmonious, peaceful relationship, but the same circumstances are what make their bond so close and significant. If it weren't for Munkustrap extending the olive branch to a very misled young Tugger, the latter would have never been able to severe himself from Macavity. Meanwhile, Tugger's effects on Munkustrap are less literal and obvious but just as significant. He acts as a looser, more optimistically nihilistic buffer to Munk's razor-sharp edges, and frequently functions as a catalyst for Munkustrap to unearth a bevy of feelings and emotions he's long been in the habit of smothering. They frequently bicker and frustrate each other, yes, but they know how to work with one another when it counts, and they love each other very much.

-

Old Deuteronomy - Munk is one of a few examples of a child of Deuteronomy who was raised primarily by the latter; among cats, it's frankly more common for those born into colonies to have been "raised by the village." Munkustrap has always been very close to his father, has bottomless admiration for him, and abides by his platitudes unquestioningly. Deuteronomy recognized a unique fervor and emotional vulnerability in a young Munkustrap and allowed the latter to attach himself inextricably to him. it's because of this connection, and Munkustrap's unconditional adulation of his father, that Tugger has traduced him as being a rather ideal "little soldier."

After a huge fallout with Macavity (whole thing it's a WHOLE THING), Old Deuteronomy took Munkustrap and his other followers (including Skimble, Jenny, Jelly, Gus, and Asparagus) and splintered away from the colony, going onto to establish the Jellicle colony that inhabits the Junkyard, as seen in the actual musical. For a while, the group focused on rebuilding and recuperating, and succeeded harmoniously. but, after a while when the reconstructed colony was comfortably settled, Deuteronomy became more of an itinerant than Munkustrap had ever known him to be, coming and going patternlessly. Munkustrap knows that he can always attempt to reach out to Old Deutoronomy (there's a postal system cats use...again...whole other thing) in times of need (i.e., when Munkustrap learned about Tugger being in Macavity's possession) but at that point, Munkustrap became established as the de facto Secondary Leader and had to establish himself as capable and independent. He never outwardly questions what Deutoronomy is up to when he's away on his long sojourns to Who Knows Where...but he's never one to question his father. (Tugger, on the other hand...)

Macavity - Macavity is symbolically around five-ish years older than Munkustrap. Closer in age than Tugger and Munk, but the gap is still significant. Munkustrap was born into the same colony as Macavity, and the two did share a portion of their respective childhoods together; Munkustrap being, of course, rather worshipful of Macavity as a kitten. Macavity, for his part, engaged with Munkustrap, and the latter retains fond memories of their interactions...but he also remembers how, with the clarity of hindsight, Macavity seemed to "troubled" back then. He was a bit moody, but that's not wholly unusual for an adolescent cat! More uniquely, he seemed oddly attune to the Jellicle Moon...an evidently Mystical characteristic. He often sought solitude and was reclusive, cagey, secretive, and was obsessed with his developing his mysticism and harvesting magic of Deuteronomy's ilk.

Ultimately, Macavity attempted to persuade Munkustrap to join him in a staged rebellion against Old Deuteronomy; but, even at such a tender age, Munk knew better than to be cajoled, and ultimately sided with his father. He tried in earnest to talk Macavity out of his pursuit of power, but of course...it was fruitless. And the ramifications were abominable. Ultimately, Macavity attempted something of a mutiny that resulted in the deaths of Munkustrap's mother, his two littermates, and the injury or loss of many of his friends and cats he considered to be family. To this day, Munkustrap blames himself for knowing of Macavity's designs, but underestimating him and failing to prevent the disaster. He vowed to never allow such calamity to befall his loved ones again, which manifests in the fiercely protective persona for which he's known. Whatever love existed between the two brothers has been seemingly lost to time; Munkustrap has grown past his bitterness, anger, and desire for retribution...but what's left in the wake are sadness, regret, and wariness.

-

Mistoffelees - The youngest of the protag trifecta of Munkustrap/Tugger/Mistoffelees (for purposes of not getting lost in the sauce, they are, in my mind, the Kirk/Spock/Bones so to speak), Mistoffelees is something of a little brother/son/protegee ??? person??? to Munkustrap. Their relationship is a little hard to compartmentalize, but it's warm and familial all the same. Munkustrap sort of supplies to Mistoffelees what Deuteronomy was to Munkustrap. The magical cat, of course, is far from the first youngun to ever stumble into Jellicle territory in need of reprieve, but usually raising the new arrivals is a village effort. And it still was for Mistoffelees, but Munkustrap zeroed in on him in particular for two major reasons: his inexpendably cathartic effect on Tugger, and the whole Being Magical. Munkustrap remembered, of course, the quixotic fascination his older brother had with magic and the legends surrounding it, and his own proclivities towards harvesting and using it, but Munk was not prejudicial towards Mistoffelees because of that. He knew from the onset that Mistoffelees and Macavity are incomparable, and wanted to make sure that Mistoffelees would never lose touch with the goodness at his core. He also wanted to solidify that Mistoffelees would not be treated differently because of his abilities, but would get to enjoy a normal and secure upbringing. Also...he intuited immediately that it was important for Macavity to Not Find Out about this inexplicably magical cat. (Magical Cats aren't exactly unheard of but they're really not...supposed to be able to exist anymore lmao)

In return for Munkustrap's warmth and extensions of care and friendship, Mistoffelees has always been eager to be helpful and useful, and often functions as a "right-hand man" for the Jellicle Protector in many of the banalities of life in the Junkyard. Despite his aloofness and eccentricities, Mistoffelees has always sought to please and prove himself to Munkustrap, despite the fact Munkustrap has always had confidence in him and never required proof or reassurance that the conjurer was someone he could trust and rely on. hhhhh idk their relationship is cute to me!!! they're cute!!!!

-

Alonzo - Alonzo and Munkustrap have a lot in common...like Munkustrap, Alonzo's early youth was peppered by loss and grief, disasters outside the scope of his control for which he still blames himself. Also like Munkustrap, it is because of these developments that Alonzo has sworn himself to be a protector for all those he holds dear. But, unlike Munkustrap, Alonzo is heavily saddled with endless self-doubt, self-flagellation, and fear. He's around Tugger's age, and Munkustrap recognizes how much learning and growing he needs to do, but also recognizes the drive and intensity propelling him towards becoming either a mess of self-destruction, or a rocksteady protector and friend on whom others can rely. Munkustrap instinctively took Alonzo under his wing, becoming his unofficial mentor, and is pretty much the only cat toward whom Alonzo is open and affectionate. The latter often goes to Munkustrap in times of doubt and fear, but also focuses on impressing and emulating the Jellicle Protector in any way he can. When it comes to being backed up during an altercation, or any matters concerning the security and safety of the colony, Munkustrap knows he can rely on Alonzo above anybody else to back him up. The two are very brotherly and familial with one another, and together make a duo that I, personally, would not fuck with.

Also, importantly, Alonzo supplies a sort of catharsis for Munkustrap as well. While the Protector may not realize it, being able to guide and mentor Alonzo functions as something like reparation for his own past failures; now he's able to pass on the lessons he's learned so that Alonzo won't make the same mistakes he made, and Alonzo being his protegee reassures him that he's capable of positively influence those who are in his care. (which he doesn't often conscientiously doubt, but losing his family instills fear in the back of his head that he'll fuck up in any way with his new family, a fear that's usually surfaced in conjunction with Tugger)

Jenny - She is a surrogate mother figure to Munkustrap, and one of the only cats to whom he yields his absolution of authority in the absence of Deuteronomy. (not unlike the way Kirk often has to cede to McCoy...two star trek references in one post about cats??) He's known her his entire life, and she has always been a source of comfort and guidance towards him that is similar, yet still different, in comparison to Deuteronomy. I like to think Jenny is one of the few cats that Munkustrap would ever go to for advice or consolation, and also one of the few cats who will openly question his approaches or point out his shortcomings. (it comes from a place of love!) Munkustrap also just thinks she's hilarious. A heavily burdened cat like him needs the unique combination of comfort and levity that a cat like Jennyanydots can provide! together they have a lovely rapport <3

-

(here comes the somewhat controversial takes pfffttt. you can flame me if you want idc it's the internet and I know what I signed up for lmao but if you are a demestrap purist who may become emotionally compromised by the suggestion that a romantic connection between the two is Not A Given, feel free to skip this part)

Demeter - listen. I know you're wondering but I'm going to keep it short for now okay. suffice it to say, they have a bit of a back-and-forth, so to speak, mostly stemming from Demeter trying to navigate the residual damage of her troubled past (and.....present) but. my version of Munkustrap is on the aroace spectrum (hides) and so instinctively doesn't move in on Demeter out of an impulse to "rescue" or "fix" her. And for her part, whenever she does indicate an interest in anybody, it's not like she's driven by a long-sufferer's Need For True Love. And even if it were, I'd lampshade that as Not A Good Basis For A Relationship. like idk it's a complicated thing, but regardless, I think she's a fascinating character on her own, far outside the realm of her sensuality and her relationships with the male characters lol.

So continuing, Munkustrap doesn't overstep the fact that she's an adult who can make her own decisions, and also he can see with his own eyeballs that she errs on the side of indecisive regarding her estimation of Macavity, and morality in general, and his mind is not clouded with "I Am A Straight Man In The Presence Of A Beautiful Woman" so as to persuade him to, for some reason, insist that she's not capable of making poor decisions, and trust her judgment above anybody else's in a comparable situation. He, of course, would like to help her, within reason, like he would like to help any cat who expresses interest in being a part of the colony and embracing the mores of Jelliclehood. And he is, of course, kind and helpful towards her because that's the kind of cat he is. and it has nothing to do with an urge to romance her. 😬 or protect her with anomalous fervency because She's Just A Girl (honestly idc about any implications regarding gender roles that have wormed their ways into various versions of CATS bc these are CATS and they lack culturally gendered expectations/roles and also they lack secondary sex characteristics)

because Demeter is rather flighty and cagey, and Munkustrap is a Busy Bee, it takes a while for the two of them to even really become friends, and when they do, there are still some ups and downs granted by a bevy of contrasting opinions/idiosyncrasies endemic to the respective characters. Once he gets to actually know her, Munkustrap does believe in Demeter and encourages her to make progress, but he doesn't hover over her or fuss over her more than he does any other of his adult friends lmao. in the few instances that she behaves in a sensual manner towards him, he's like...ig open to it, but again, he's on the aroace spectrum and navigates those kind of connections within that realm, which To Me means that, in his case, he's never governed by romantic, sensual, or sexual impulses/attractions. bc listen. I just love a male hero who is not ultimately fulfilled by A Woman's Love and Having Children (those things are great for some people!!! pls don't think I am suggesting otherwise lmaooooo)

if it seems like these past few paragraphs have a defensive tone...it may be because I operate in anticipation of being condemned by passionate shippers (and also I too am on the aroace spectrum and thats not for nothing lol) but like I said it's the internet and ik what I signed up for. I have nothing against believers in demestrap. not to mention that yk, hal.........it's about cats.

anyway!!!! Munkustrap has a meaningful relationship with everyone at the Junkyard, but I'm gonna stop here for now lol. I could write a passage for every possible combination of every possible pairing of cats but I have already gone beyond the scope I originally imagined pfft. I hope this gives an adequate enough glimpse into how I construe him and his personality and a little bit of his backstory. sorry if's confusing af, or if I focused too much on other cats. also I alluded to a few things that I'm not even sure I've expanded on before. but if you made it through this whole thing and if you care at all about my fanverse pls don't hesitate to ask for expansion or clarification on anything

ty for the ask!! <3

[lostsoulaltair]

Owari no Seraph Chapter 143 - Analysis and Review. SPOILERS Ahead

今日は皆さん。久しぶりですね。

Hey everyone, it's been a while hehe...Soo, given that the chapter was released in Japan, we'll have to wait until it gets released on this side till Jan 10th. Nevertheless, I want to give an insight.

P.S: As usual, ships are excluded and everything's held within a neutral view.

The chapter starts retaking from chapter 142, an encounter between the Shinoa Squad and the 5th Progenitor Ky Luc. There is an eventual fight of willpower given that Shinoa is aiming to turn Ky Luc into a cursed gear from the black series so Mitsuba can wield. Along this, we have a flashback on which it is revealed as to why Ky Luc followed Urd Geales with utmost loyalty.

The reason behind is because Urd wants to die. But not die like a demon but as a human. To reach mortality in order to die like the human he was born.

Upon hearing such dream, Ky Luc was amazed by such dream, promising himself to carry on and live until Urd fulfilled his dream.

Given this, Ky Luc's will was all that kept him from turning into a demon, nevertheless, given that Shinoa was devouring him as well, Shinoa was able to feel his feelings and memories, making her overwhelmed, nevertheless, the squad was there for her so she could manage to turn Ky into a demon.

She apologizes to him for that and at the end we have an Owari Kaisen. [Shinoa made the new demon as two fingers. Don't ask what the author was thinking cause Idk either haha].

As for the end of the chapter, Shinoa now knows what Urd and Rigr are thinking along Yuu's location.

Analysis

First of all, many might consider or may think that the portrayal of strength between Shinoa and Ky Luc was unfair along that her power up was random...

I will say that the way things are paced is not exactly the best. The story is reaching its eventual end and yes, there are things that could have been detailed much better or polished nevertheless, let's not forget details that have been from the very beginning.

What do I mean?

Ever since the LN were published, it has been stated that Shinoa is far stronger than other characters. That includes Mahiru, Guren, the adults even by Shikama. But why's that?

Simple, Shinoa has had the ability to accept demons without losing her heart, without needing to do trials like other wielders as seen in old chapters and the last one which was chapter 102 till chapter 106. [That's when Yuu fought went to save Mika, then fought against him to make him his cursed gear].

Now, following suit, why did Shinoa never do such task when she had the power but chose until now?

Well, it all goes with the narrative but also with her emotional development. What do I mean?

Perhaps people what makes them feel like something's wrong is not only the narrative but also the building of "expectation". Long ago, I was actually pissed, angry or rather upset with how things turned in OnS in terms of story, I felt no motivation to write or the sort but then, along a friend, we started to consider other aspects from what we actually expected but rather, what the characters were displaying emotional wise and rationality wise.

Which means, the characters are driven regarding how they feel, what they aspire, what they want, along what they know about their own selves.

With Shinoa, she thought she had found out what she wanted, she thought that because she had fallen in love and was together in a squad, she had truthfully lived when in reality, she was taking the baby steps required to live.

As Kouhei Kadono's LNs suggest. In order to have the right to die, you must live first.

But returning to the topic. Shinoa had a massive advantage against Shikama not because of raw power alone. It was first seen she could take any demon into her and use them (LN which came to portrayal on chapter 133). But let's remember that Rigr made certain Shikama's powers were constantly restrained due to the place they managed to create, giving Shinoa an advantage.

In the case of Ky Luc, Shinoa was able to bust her own teammates so they could actually pull a fight against a beast like Ky Luc.

Her being able to know how to create a demon, this was shown in early chapters when Mikaela turned into a demon. Knowledge is power and in a war where life is at stake, such knowledge comes in handy.

The next question, why did Ky Luc lose if he was powerful?

One of the topics that it's heavily touched in Ky Luc's backstory is that Ky had no sense of why he wanted to live. He had a bind that all he knew was that he had to survive. Ky fought through life to survive but not until he met Urd Geales, did he find a first thing to live for. Nevertheless, he is living for someone but not living for himself. What do I mean?

Usually, the story tends to portray how characters want to be recognized, how they want to be seen to someone else's eyes along how people start gathering around them. But the other side of the coin is, what is exactly to live? What does living exactly mean?

It's not just about living for someone but actually finding a reason for your own. It is a delicate thread between selfishness along personal love, it's hell after all. It's finding in a desolate land a reason as to why one's self is existing and living. Even during hell, or during the trial called life, people find meaning, they find things to do, to enjoy, to aspire for, to spend time with, to cry for, to lament for, but to grow for as well.

Ky Luc's human clock stopped, the reason he lost was because he always believed that vampires would be the strongest of their kind, never considering what divided humans and vampires. What exactly made humans be special yet frightening, but rather, he thought as long as he fought, as long as he made himself stronger, he wouldn't lose. But it was a different day there...Ky Luc had a past stained with blood and I'm not going to say he's a justificable character, but rather fascinating, how despite the mind along the ideals can set someone to see light, for others such light only reflects darkness.

As for the final point. The squad's role

For sure, the way they got their power up was not exactly the best developed point but given that the story had to move on, that's what we got. Shinoa being able to access to the First Progenitor's powers is what allowed her to give her team a chance to fight given that the protagonist is broken in terms of power as well, so there must exist a balance in power scale.

But, what is there to need to be discussed with the squad?

Their union.

One of the things that's been visible is that once Yuu left, the squad had a turnoil of emotions, distress, sadness, along feelings akin to feeling lost.

Like lambs who were waiting for the lead to guide them, but given that someone stood there, a new beacon began to shine. But instead of following Yuu and Guren; they began to follow a beacon to a new path. One on which they could dictaminate what they wanted to do with their lives.

Kimizuki, Yoichi and specially Mitsuba, have displayed growth despite few chapters passing by; they do treasure the family they have, they love Yuu but they are living in the present. They are not tied to what happened millenia ago, they want a better world, a world that lets humanity prosper and end the eternal hell they've been subjected to endure but among this, the real creation of bonds has been visible. The squad supporting each other, working together along ensuring each other is alright is one of the most precious things that can be witnessed.

As a side note

I usually complained about Mitsuba's poor development...but right now, her worrying about Shinoa, showing what it is to be a caring friend, what it means to give support for someone you hold dear. It means there is progress instead of blindy following. I hope we get to see interactions between Mitsuba and Ky Luc with time along constant development with the members of the squad.

What do you think about this? Let me know.

It's alright if you don't like it, just remember, respecting each other is what leads to good conversations.

[firebirdsdaughter]

Something that occurred to me this time…

… Is that Eliot deliberately brings Hardison w/ him to confront Moreau the first time. He tells Nate that he and Hardison will do it (don't worry, I also Love Hardison taking the moment to be like 'hey, are you okay?' bc those two usually express themselves through bickering so much that it clearly telegraphs just how off Eliot is being that Hardison is dropping the usual banter to be serious).

Which for one thing, says something about Eliot's confidence in Hardison in general, but also, like… Yes, Parker's probably not the choice for that introduction, it's not her style, but Nate or Sophie could also have played the part. He could have tried to go alone. But he pulls Hardison.

Obviously he's not trying to put Hardison in danger, he makes it quite clear in all other scenarios that he does not tolerate Hardison in danger (visual cues in The Gone Fishin' Job my beloveds), the others are well aware of the fact that he's Done Some Shit and are equally unaware of his connection to Moreau. And to be honest, I can't pinpoint an exact reason why I think he might have done it, chosen Hardison to be the one who finds out first. Maybe he suspected Moreau would underestimate Hardison, making him safer (relatively, if course), then someone like Nate or Sophie. Maybe he thought it would be best to have Hardison's tech skills as back up. Maybe he thought Hardison would roll w/ the punches the best. Maybe he just wanted Hardison there for morale.

I don't know, but it's a moment that didn't really occur to me the first time, but I think is actually quite meaningful in a more emotional way.

[risingsunresistance]

actually i changed my mind bc the long tags made me excited, here's this. there's actually three admins here, one of them was the lightning

it is EXTREMELY rushed, it's just supposed to be a concept not the actual finished thing. also puts his scale more into perspective, i forgot to include that in the post

[jinxedshapeshifter]

No, Silver the Hedgehog's Personality Has Not Changed: An Analysis

Okay, I'll be upfront about Silver being my favorite Sonic character here so there's transparency. However, I've also either played or watched someone else play every game Silver shows up in and read all the IDW comics (except the Bad Guys miniseries). I am qualified to analyze Silver's personality. This also gets personal in both the tags and towards the end of the analysis, and the post is long, so I'll add a read more break.

So first things first: the stuff people complain about. Here are the main complaints I see:

His personality is completely different from how it was in Sonic 06 and Sonic Rivals

His dorky traits (such as his social awkwardness) have been amplified

Neither of these are necessarily true. Let's start with the first complaint, his personality being completely different. My reasoning for this does tie into the second point however.

Let's quickly go over how personalities work. Under different circumstances, different aspects of a person's personality might be more prominent. For example, I'm a naturally anxious person. Under certain circumstances -- usually being around people I know -- my social anxiety specifically disappears almost completely because of circumstances. This can even be seen in the Sonic series with other characters.

Vector isn't usually aggressive, but he can be provided the circumstances are right, as seen in Sonic Heroes.

Sonic likes to goof off and joke around, but he can be serious if the situation requires it.

In Sonic Prime, Rouge does do a lot of treasure hunting and loves looking for gems, but if the situation puts her in danger, she avoids it; she specifically says "No gem is worth losing my wings over!"

Silver's circumstances are different from his circumstances in 06 or Rivals, and he's developed to realize that he doesn't always need to solve things with violence.

It's also worth noting that from the beginning he's been relatively awkward when it comes to situations where he's not trying to save the world. He's even awkward when he is trying to save the world. He's always been awkward in social situations especially, because aside from Sonic 06 he's been alone most of his life, and even in Sonic 06 he's presumably only ever interacted with Blaze before meeting Mephiles, so he's not used to interacting with other people socially.

I'd argue that it's implied he's not as socially awkward when he's with someone he knows when Blaze mentions in 06 that he's "pretty insecure when he's alone" because I'm the same way. If I'm not around someone I know, I get incredibly anxious and insecure in social situations. It's even directly shown in 06 that he gets awkward in social situations when he's alone; when Blaze is around he interacts with Mephiles and Sonic just fine, but the second Blaze is gone he gets awkward when he interacts with anyone he doesn't know.

This is mainly seen in the cutscene where he first meets Amy. He has no idea how to respond to her throughout the entire exchange, making him come off as awkward. Even as they're helping each other, he's still incredibly awkward.

It's even implied he's not naturally aggressive:

Him questioning whether it's right to kill Sonic to save the world means doing so likely conflicts with his morals. He's so conflicted on whether or not it's right to kill Sonic that he is literally willing to let the future stay how it is if he decides it's not the right thing to do. It's because of Blaze that he continues to go after Sonic, but my point still stands: he had a moral crisis over killing Sonic, implying that sort of aggression isn't in his nature.

Also in Sonic 06 and Sonic Rivals 2, he's shown to be quite the awkward dork when he's not focused on a mission. In the Sonic Rivals duology especially, he's shown to throw hands first and ask questions later, but he does -- again -- take a nonviolent route in his story; his story is the only time Capture the Chao is played in Story Mode in Sonic Rivals 2, and he decides to play it with Sonic instead of fighting/racing him again. The reason he's so aggressive in the Rivals duology is because he thinks everyone's getting in his way. He becomes incredibly docile towards Espio when Espio offers to help him in Sonic Rivals 2. The only reason he was so violent towards everyone else in Rivals and Rivals 2 is because he wanted them out of his way, and this continues to be the case as the franchise goes on, albeit to a milder extent. Listen to his in race dialogue in Team Sonic Racing, it proves my point. He LITERALLY tells Big, IN THE MOST MOCKING VOICE EVER, "Go home to Froggy, Big!"

Speaking of Team Sonic Racing ...

He's shown in both TSR and Sonic Colors DS to be incredibly docile if he doesn't have a set goal (I’m not counting his snark in Colors DS as hostility so don’t bring it up). Remember, in both games there’s no mention of his future still being ruined; in Colors DS, he specified that his future is no different than the present, and the most we get about his future in TSR is a line from Zavok about there “being worse in your future, Silver!” During races he gets non-aggressively hostile because he’s competitive.

His personality only is how it is in Sonic 06 and the Rivals duology because he’s set on a goal and views everyone else as obstacles, with the exception of Espio who is helping him. In every other situation, his hostility is playful/competitive hostility, not necessarily genuine hostility.

So, in summary: Silver’s personality hasn’t changed, but his circumstances have, and he’s learned that he doesn’t need to resort to violence to solve every problem. That’s why his dorky traits are more likely to be highlighted. Those traits have always been there, but his hostility overshadowed it most of the time because he had a set goal in mind and everyone, in his eyes, was getting in his way. Since he’s learned how to handle those kinds of situations without getting overly hostile, his more aggressive traits aren’t as prominent. Those traits end up prominent again when he gets competitive. He’s grown as a person and learned to have more self control. Why is that a bad thing? Why is Silver developing enough to not see violence as necessary a bad thing?

Now I’m gonna get personal for a sec because I was much like Silver was in 06 and Rivals at one point, likely due to my autism going undiagnosed for far too long. I’m no longer like that because I developed as a person.

So I ask again, why is Silver no longer seeing violence as inherently necessary a bad thing? Why is it bad that he’s more dorky and awkward than hostile and aggressive now? Answer: it’s not. He’s developed, and it makes me incredibly upset that it’s criticized instead of celebrated, because his mentality in 06 and the Rivals duology would've realistically led to some incredibly toxic relationships.

[yusuke-of-valla]

I am so nervous I wan puuke!

[peachigummi]

is that right? ☏ mattheo riddle.

summary: both your parents had set up an arranged marriage. you both simply tolerated it for the most part, as it really was in the best interest for your respective families. over the year, you started to really develop feelings for each other - especially in wanting to expand the family name.

pairing: mattheo x fem! reader

warnings: jealousy, smut like literal major baby making so there is unprotected p in v and creampie, so breeding!kink, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, choking, gagging, slight bondage, almost public but not really?, cock warming... maybe slight daddy/mommy stuff naturally?. i think that's pretty much it fluff at the end. he is rough but talks you through it, praise!kink.

note: this is my first time ever writing smut...omg i almost didnt finish writing this LOL i had to stop midway then I had the post clarity and that shameful feeling HAHAHAH

word count: 7.5k

(slightly not really proofread...again)

reblogs & comments are appreciated! i hope you have fun!! tell me what you think!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Both your parents had set up an arranged marriage for after you and Mattheo graduated from Hogwarts. You've been married for over a year now, living in a manor that housed both families. There was definitely some tension occurring, recently you’ve both started to further develop feelings. At first you tolerated your union as his family wanted to continue with a strong and pure bloodline, and your family simply wanted protection. 

You were sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair when Mattheo walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. He gave you a smug look, heading to the walk-in closet, dropping the towel and slipping on his underwear, his back turned to you. You wouldn’t help but press your thighs together at the sight of him, you quickly return to brush the knots from your hair. 

From the vanity mirror you look at his chiseled back muscles. He still looks as good as the first day you met him. You had the luck on your side for that, at least the partner in your arranged marriage was good looking…yet you craved having a chance to fall in love organically. You could count on a single hand how many times you and Mattheo had been physically intimate. 

Mattheo put on a shirt and grey sweats, shit, before walking out of the closet to approach you. “I’ve heard from your parents that you’ve been talking to another guy at work?” he says calmly but firmly.

You thought about it for a second, “Charlie? Yeah, he’s in training.” After graduating Hogwarts you were able to quickly land a job with the M.O.M. while mattheo stuck with DAD…aka the family…business. I moved on to rub body oil on my legs and arms, not looking at him.

He tried to not pay any attention to you as you moved your hands in tight little circles. Mattheo would love a good massage right about now too, he took a step back and sat on his side of the massive bed, “and what do you talk to him about?”

“I mean,” you scoff at him, “Mattheo, it’s just training protocols. Showing him around the work area, how to do things, where things are at. Not much else to it than that.”

He clenched his jaw, he couldn’t deny that he had an attraction to you, but he always told himself to ignore it, “that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.” You stood up from the vanity, clicking closed the boy oil. Setting it down where it belonged, you enjoyed having a tidy space. You sat on your side of the bed.

He looked at the way your hips swayed in your night dress as you walked to your side. You turned your head to look back at him. He looked so tense, “I hope you’re not lying.”

You stayed quiet, of course he wouldn’t trust me. You had never given him a reason not to even before the start of this arrangement, so it annoyed you when he doubted you. That might just be his nature though. You slid into the satin bed sheets, they were nice and cool to the touch, much needed after a long day at work. You turned your bedside lamp off, encasing your both in darkness. Mattheo laid beside you, he usually took to his side, but tonight he was feeling a bit off so he wanted to be close to you. Not making physical contact but enough to where you notice his warm body. 

You kept your eyes open, your back turned away from him, what was he doing? He never slept so close to you. After a long period of silence you spoke up, feeling brave because it was dark. You wouldn’t see his expression and he wouldn’t see yours, “are you jealous, Mattheo?”

He sneered at the question, as if the idea of him being jealous was a crime, “of course not. I’m just concerned that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be.” There was a small hint of jealousy in his voice, he hated to admit it but he didn’t like the idea of you with another man.

“I might have not had a choice, but I don’t plan to step out of this marriage. You have nothing to worry about.” You tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed, trying to build distance from him, “I wish I could say the same with you…and your assistant.”

His face looked offended, but you couldn't see it, you could hear it in his voice, trying to keep it cool. “My assistant? You’re the only one that is allowed in my office.”

“That’s not what Draco told me.” Mattheo was able to recruit Draco back into the business. Draco was nice to you, he was like a brother figure. Your families were close. They would have arranged a marriage with him instead, but his mother decided against it. She believed in falling in love, and making the choice Draco’s. “He warned me to never let you go on any work trips or work late over time. He doesn’t trust your assistant. Draco told me she wants to take any opportunity to have you alone, where no one can see you two.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as he listened to you. He didn’t appreciate that Draco was telling you things about him, in fact was pissed. He sat up in bed, turning on his bedside lamp. He looked at you with furious eyes, “Draco has no idea what he’s talking about. My work assistant wouldn’t do such things!” That was a lie and he knew it.

“I trust Draco. Don’t you speak ill of him. Why are you defending her?! YOU’RE the one who should be telling me that you wouldn’t do such things with her!” You couldn’t help your own jealousy come forth, you nearly fell off the bed.

He grabbed your arm to pull you back on the bed. Mattheo spoke with a calm and firm voice, “you have my word that I have never, nor will i ever, do such things with my assistant. No other woman can have me the way you do.” He admitted with a smirk, grabbing your chin and lifting it up so your gaze would be on him only.

You didn’t thank him for catching you, but you were glad he did. You lost your concentration for a split second at his admission. You regained yourself, “fire her then.”

He laughed at your demand, “fire my assistant?” A wicked thought passed through it. He could use this to his advantage to make you feel jealous, test the water on how you felt about him, “Why would I do that? She helps me.”

You crossed your arms, “you have three choices.” You count up with your fingers, “You either fire her. Let me choose an assistant for yourself. Or you hire me to be your new assistant.”

He raised his eyebrow at your offers, but still kept his cool, He didn’t want to show how turned on he was by how demanding you were being at the moment, “you’re giving me an ultimatum…” he smirked slightly, “and you think I’ll just do as you demand?”

“You better mattheo. If you don’t want to take it for purely my sake, do it for your bloodline.” I rolled my eyes. Fighting back the blush, thinking one day I will carry his child. 

He groaned at the mention of the family purity, “is that right?” he said in a frustrated tone, “you know as well as I do that this marriage is a duty to our families.” He sighed. “Very well, i’ll take you up on your offer, be my new assistant.”

Your eyes grew wide. You didn’t actually expect him to take that choice, far as you could tell he enjoyed being away from you even if it was at work. “I’ll call my work in the morning. See? Not so bad that I was training Charlie, he can take my place.” You tried to read his face before laying back down, this time closer to the center of the bed.

He turned off his lamp again, “let it be done. But remember, as my new assistant, I won't go easy on you.” He teased, there was a small smile on his face he couldn’t straighten out.

You reached out to pinch his ear, “don’t let it get to your head. I’m still your equal as your wife. Don’t forget about that.” You turned your back to him once again, closing your eyes.

His smile only got bigger at how fierce you were being, he must have struck a chord. He has never seen you so jealous. “Yes, yes… of course my love.” he mocked in a quiet voice as he inched closer to you, laying by your side. Not making much contact, but enough to tease you. You rolled your eyes, he only ever used pet names to tease you. You wanted them to mean something. You remembered the way he came out of the shower, you thought about his wide shoulders, his collar bones.. You scoot your ass closer to his hips. Two can play at that game.

Mattheo’s breath hitched, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep. Goodnight.”

He was so close to snapping at you, but he didn’t want to take the bait, “night.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next morning you woke up early to call and explain why you were leaving the ministry. You had to come up with a solid unsuspecting excuse. Mattheo’s family would not be too happy with it, being their spy and all, but if it meant my marriage could be successful, so be it. 

You were at the dining room table, it was empty. Everyone in the manor wouldn’t wake up for another half hour or so. Yet there was Mattheo in his black suit, “morning.” He found it amusing you were already ready for the day. He looked you up and down, a wave of lust surged through him. He thought you looked quite lovely, he almost said it outloud but resisted the urge.

“Good morning Mr. Riddle, sir.” You stood up, pulling his seat out. You rolled my eyes, but smiled sweetly at him, “I’m ready for my first day.”

He chuckled softly at how polite you were being, “are you now? And what are you looking forward to most today?”

One of the maids came by to set mattheo’s breakfast down. I smiled at her and waited until she left before continuing, “Sir, I'm looking forward to you firing your current assistant… in front of me.” You batted your lashes at him. Knowing you were going to meet her for the first and last time, you took extra care in how you looked.

“You really want to witness her losing her job, don't you?” He bit the corner of his mouth. 

“She should have watched the way she was acting with you, if she really cared about her job security.” Our blended family began to slowly trickle into the dining room, you laid a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. you kissed his head. We made the appearance of a blissful marriage around them, not wanting a rift to occur between the families, “I'll meet you at the car in 15, darling.”

He tried his hardest to maintain his facade as you kissed him and left. He again watched you walk away, your perfect figure made his body tingle with desire once more. He excused himself from the table.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mattheo turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt first to get out so he could open your door, “are you ready, my dear?” he questioned though he knew the answer. He didn’t think there would be any hesitation from you in regards to what was about to happen.

You nodded, straightening out your skirt. You followed him into the building. You felt uneasy to be around so many people who have caused harm and were plotting to do more. At least your family was safe, as long as you were with the Riddles.

Mattheo noticed and held your hand as he led you to his office, “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He offered you a chair in front of his desk before going around to sit at the main chair.

You couldn’t help but smile, you let it drop just as quick too. It’s all just part of the agreement. If something were to happen to you, poof~ there goes the bloodline. 

“Good morning, Mattheo.” A woman with a sickly sweet, sickly high pitched voice said with the entry.

He gave her a brief glimpse, he could already tell he would get a headache. His assistant was wearing a tight fitting top with a ridiculously short skirt, she was pouring him a cup of coffee.

You watched as his eyes followed her, gripping tightly at the chair’s arm. Draco was right, no one in their right mind would think of dressing that skimpy for work, if they were truly just there to get shit done. “It’s Mr. Riddle to you.” You said taking your left hand to your chin, making sure your wedding ring was up and front ready to gawk at.

Mattheo looked at you, he loved the way your demeanor was changing. He could see the jealous and possessive energy oozing off of you. He found it quite intriguing, a part of him wanted to test your limits. He reached out to accept the cup of coffee from his assistant, “is it just like how I like it?” “Yes Mr. Riddle. Just how you like it” she said, leaning over to him, finishing the stir. This made her skirt even tighter and her breasts were there to peep into.

You stared at Mattheo hard, expecting him to say something to the woman. He felt you, he had to admit he also was quite displeased at how his assistant behaved around him, but it was all fun and game.

“Now, what do I have scheduled for today?”

Before the woman could answer you interrupted. “I know one thing you have scheduled, Mattheo.” You tapped your foot. You needed her gone. Now. Draco - you’ll have to thank him at the next dinner party. You should have done something sooner. You can’t believe your husband was letting this slut work around him, dictating what he did by the hour.

Mattheo’s eyebrows slightly rose in surprise, he was a bit caught off guard at your interruption. He was so amused by how impatient you had become.

“Well we do have a meeting to go with the Boyles in an hour, can this wait?” His assistant said puffing her chest out to make it appear larger. You hated that she said we instead of you. That bitch. You got up from your seat, going around the desk to stand behind Mattheo. You snaked both arms over his shoulders and down his chest.

He held back a groan as your soft touch distracted his thoughts for a moment. He loved that you were making it clear he was yours. He snapped out of it when he remembered he was still in the presence of his assistant so he looked back at her, all the mock gone from his voice, “i’ll be quick… You’re fired. You're no longer needed here.”

The blood drained out of the woman’s face, her shoulder’s immediately fell. You gave her a fake condolences look.

“W-wuh why? What did I do? Is this because of the office party last week? It won’t happen again, it was wildly inappropriate.” She composed herself, taking a stab at you with the last portion. You brought your hands to Mattheo’s shoulders and squeezed hard slowly, as to not bring attention to the action.

His eyes darkened, “You knew the rules. My father specifically told you when you started not to try anything with me. But even after making it clear, you still chose to try and make a move on me at my own party.” His voice was deep, hiding the amusement that lay underneath.

Even though you hated the confession, you couldn't help but appreciate Mattheo’s honesty. You lessened the grip on his shoulders, rubbing out the part you dug in your nails as a way of saying thank you.

“I was so drunk Mr. Riddle. I’m terribly sorry. I really need this job. I thought you were needing something else…I thought you weren’t getting pleased right. Mattheo, I'm sorry don’t fire me.” You wanted to scream as she pleaded. You can hear the poison off the back of her tongue. Seriously, that Bitch! With that comment you returned to dig your nails into Mattheo.

“My needs are none of your concern.” Mattheo spat at her, but she was right. He has been craving a certain kind of touch for far too long now. He did enjoy a good begging, no matter who it came from, but he wasn’t going to go against his marriage. 

You felt him hold your left hand, flipping it so that both the back of your hands were facing the woman, he was showing your matching rings, “I am perfectly happy in my marriage.” You couldn’t help but wonder if he meant that, or if it was just for show. I was happy too wasn’t I?

The woman looked at your hands that were pressed together, despite her disappointment, she knew there was nothing she could do so she bit her tongue and nodded in response. You watched her every movement, as she collected herself. She still didn’t bother pulling down her skirt or buttoning up her shirt, it was as if she still wanted Mattheo to see what he would have missed out on. To leave this image with him as a parting gift.

He simply stared at the clock, “you have three minutes to collect your things before security arrives to escort you out of the building. Do not leave anything behind because it will be incinerated. My father will deal with your severance…if he gives you anything. Especially after I tell him why I had to fire you.”

She turned to the door, stole a glance back at Mattheo, and left the room. You stayed put behind Mattheo. You didn’t want him to see your face just yet. You needed to cool down. 

He groaned loudly and leaned back into your touch, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t even know why I kept her for so long. She wasn’t even that good at her job” he smirked, still wanting to test you.

“Don’t play stupid, I know I won't. Clearly there was something going on!” You scoffed, “to think you were getting so mad at Draco for warning me!”

He took your hand pulling you over to sit on his lap, “there was absolutely nothing going on. I didn’t ask her for anything outside of work related things. I would have never let her touch me, she thought I was unhappy in our marriage.”

“Why would she think you were unhappy hmm? Why was she assuming, let’s be honest, she assumed correctly that you weren’t getting needs met. How were you acting with her, tell me now.” You couldn’t help but feel like a little girl on his lap, a little girl who was throwing a tantrum for not wanting to share a beloved stuffed animal.

He rested his chin on your shoulder as he spoke into your ear, “it was probably because I was often short tempered with her, but I promise it was mostly due to her not doing her job correctly.” His lips brushed against your neck.

Yeah that kind of sounds like Mattheo, he liked things done a certain way, and he didn’t like when it veered off the track. But then again, even in school he was a massive flirt. So how much was the tension between the two due to his short temper and how much was his charm? 

“She’s not worth even a moment of your thought.” He mumbled against your ear, sending a shiver down to your core. He placed a gentle kiss right under your jaw. His hands ran down your thighs, squeezing ever so lightly.

You let out a faint moan, “Mattheo…” You couldn’t remember exactly the last time you were like this, it was very rare. While in school, you remembered how everyone wanted him. He allowed them to play games with him, he loved to toy with them too. But the girls knew, they ultimately knew they had no chance ending up with him. Our arranged marriage wasn’t a secret. 

He continued to press kisses over your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking gently on your skin, enjoying the way your body responded to his touch. He grabbed one leg and forced you to face him, your knees now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He then wordlessly cast a spell on the door with his wand, so it wouldn’t be opened. He didn’t even look at the door, he didn’t need to carefully aim. You could feel your core getting embarrassingly wet at the simple gesture. “Mattheo, we shouldn’t..” you panted. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He responded, though he didn’t stop his ministrations. He captured your lips with his, kissing you hungrily as he pressed his body against yours. His hands exploring over your body. 

You let your hands go up the back of his neck, tugging at his dark curls. They were so soft and velvety. Fuck. He felt so good, you could feel him press against yourself. You forgot how big he was, you wanted to just dry hump him to feel satisfied with yourself right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to it, you tried to speak between his hasty sloppy kisses, “Matty…you do have a meeting soon.”

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, “then do your job. and cancel. it.” He said through gritted teeth, planting kisses on your collarbone. Without looking he pulled his phone closer to you. He hoped you would make the right choice.

You nodded shifting in his lap, earning a groan. What a start to my new job. “What’s the extension to Boyle’s assistant?” You grabbed the receiver trying to hold it and keep your breath steady. Mattheo whispered it against your ear lobe. You grew impatient once more as you continued to hear it ring on the other end. C’mon answer.

“Hello, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi um” you looked down at Mattheo’s sweet brown eyes that were following you, pleading with yours, you tried to get him to pause with his lip exploration for a second, “I’m Mr. Riddles’ new assistant - we..I..we..sorry he needs to” damn ..girl I NEED TO! Mattheo muffled his own giggle with his hand. Enjoying how you kept messing up, obviously your mind has started to get clouded.

“Y/N/N?” The woman on the other receiver said, your old nickname from school.

“Oh my god, Daphne? Hey! I didn’t recognize your voice…!”

He watched you with slight amusement.

Daphne started to ramble on about how she started at this job, on any other day you would have totally loved to entertain her and catch up. You got along very well, but you cut her off as she explained, “um Daphne, we should go out for some coffee soon, we can talk then. It’s just that Mattheo needs the meeting with the Boyles rescheduled.”

“Oh..okay..is everything alright? It was an important meeting…”

Not as important as this.

“Everything is fine, is there a different time we can meet? Push it back a couple more hours?” You looked over at his schedule that his previous slut of an assistant left. You both ended up agreeing on a later time, you quickly thanked her and said goodbye. You clicked the receiver down, putting the do not disturb on for good measure too. 

“Where were we?” you shyly said, looking at his eyes that were gleaming with desire and excitement.

“I was thinking we could restart from here..” He readjusted you back on his lap, slipping a hand under your skirt skimming along the line of your panty. 

You missed his touch, his hands could sometimes be so cold to the touch that they felt like they left a burning trail. He pulled back slightly, picking you up by your ass to set you down on the edge of his desk. He used his hands to open your legs wider, ever so gently “Is it okay if I touch you right here?” you were already nodding before he finished, “Use your words with me. Do you want me to touch you here?” He padded his thumb against your core, still over your panties. “Yes Mattheo, please please touch me.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled proudly, he could already feel the want and need pouring off of you, and it was driving him equally if not more insane. He pushed your skirt up higher, revealing yourself to him. Ran his hands over your hips massaging them as you had done the night before. They felt so soft and squishy. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, leaning on your forearms. You moved your head forward to look at him when he retracted his hands. He had sat back down in his chair, admiring how he had you. You felt like you were under a microscope, to be so exposed. You tried pressing your legs back together.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, “don’t hide. Let me see you.” he pushed your knees back apart to regain his view. He pulled your dominant hand forward, he also leaned forward so you could touch the side of his face, “show me how you please yourself.” He watched with a hungry expression, clearly enjoying how you blushed and got flustered. Mattheo gently rubbed his thumb along your burning cheek softly, then traced it against your bottom lip asking for entry, “there’s no need to be shy with me, my love.” His voice was sweet and soft, “I promise I wont judge you, you are my wife after all.”

You let his thumb go into your mouth. You sucked on it, not once breaking eye contact, “shit y/n, that’s my pretty princess.” with his free hand he slid underneath his own pants and readjusted himself into a comfortable position. He took your dominant hand once more, putting it over your core. “Show me.”

You hesitated again to make a move on yourself, Mattheo pulled his thumb out of your mouth so he could wrap his hand around your neck, “don’t make me say it again.”

Oh my shit. “Sorry” you managed to choke out through his alternating grip intensity. You went over your panties to play yourself. You were so wet. Your hand was shaking with nerves as you rubbed over your entrance, letting your slick arousal coat them before moving them between your folds and finally at your clit. Mattheo was looking down at your movements. The hand that wasn’t around your neck, he helped by holding your panties out of the way, “so pretty, you’re glistening.”

“You..you have this effect on me Matty. This is all for you.”

“Good, you’re mine.” He choked you hard then lessened it once more, “and i'm yours.” He kissed you again before watching you play with yourself. You kept rubbing your clit for him. He let go of your neck, you felt your blood rush back to your brain. Mattheo unbuttoned your top, unclasped your bra and started to play with your breasts. Alternating and teasing each nipple. “So perfect.” He grinned against your nipples, biting it and blowing cool air on it. You yelped and he covered your mouth, “shhh.” He unlatched himself from you and sat down. He rubbed himself through his pants before undoing his belt. His eyes never left your wet core, it was purring for him.

He let out a small sign, laughing. You felt insecure for a split second, “what?”

“Nothing..you’re just doing..it wrong”

“Huh?”

“Here let me help you, princess. I’ll show you how I'd do it.” he moved his chair closer, moving your hand away. He just rubbed the middle and ring finger along your heat, it grant him a moan, “y/n, as much as I love hearing you like this. You’ve gotta stay quiet.”

You bit your lip hard, “I’ll try Mattheo but..”

“None of that, you must do as I say.” he gently inserted one finger inside you, curling it up against your wall. You moaned louder. He whipped his single digit out, “you’re so needy, even with a single finger? Sweet Salazar, what am I going to do with you? You’re hopeless.” He let out a haughty laugh.

“Baby..please.” You watched him stand up, taking his belt off the loops of his pants. You thought he was finally doing to give you what you wanted most, but instead he just wrapped it around your head, tightening it around your mouth, closing it.

“I’m really sorry I have to do this baby girl, but you just wont keep your mouth shut.” He wasn’t a bit sorry, you can tell by how he looked down at the sight of you. He was actually quite pleased. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, it was a sharp contrast to the leather belt wrapped around your mouth. Seeing you like this was beyond his wildest dreams, gagged before him. Mattheo sat back down continuing where he left off, but this time he inserted two of his fingers. He didn’t allow you to adjust to them. The belt indeed muted your cry. It hurt, you didn’t dare use two of your own fingers on yourself, and here he was with hands that were twice the size of yours.

“You’re doing so well for me, princess.” He whispered, inserting his fingers all the way and pulling them out the same. You felt a tear running down your cheek. He began to rhythmically curve them when they were inside you. The pain was quickly subdued with pleasure. You laid back on the desk arching yourself so he could go in deeper, “so now you want more huh?”

Still fingering you, he went back to suck on your nipples. He towered over you, you shook your head, “what is it?” He looked at your concern. You looked at his fully clothed body, wrapping your hand around his tie. You were naked, apart from your skirt, but it was so bunched up at your hips it didn’t matter. You couldn’t  be the only one bare right now, you want to see his body, “how are you still bossy with your mouth shut?” He laughed, pushing your hand away, “news flash, I’m your boss now. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Despite his words, he did take off his tie first, wrapping it around your wrists, goddammit, before taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt only half way. You could look at his chest that was peaking. You felt yourself drool against the belt.

He sat back down and continued to finger you relentlessly. He pulled out and tasted his fingers, “too bad you’re gagged. I would have liked you to taste yourself. At least I have your cunt to myself.” he welcomed himself into you again. He slowly ran his warm tongue up your slit, stopping at your clit. He did this a couple of times. It was so agonizing. Your eyes were bobbing around unable to stay open. With your hands tied you were still able to hold his head down to stop and focus on your clit.

Mattheo would have swatted your hands away, but he needed your touch as well. He wanted to make you feel amazing, he wanted you to forget your name and only respond to “wife”. But god did he also just want to already bury his cock deep inside you to feel some relief. He needed to be patient.

Your breath began to get shallow and unsteady. He groaned against your clit, your pussy was repeatedly clenching around his fingers, indicating you were close. 

His lips curled devilishly, he was thinking about denying your orgasm. He only wanted you to cum on his cock and nothing else. The only reason why he didn’t is because he loved the taste of you too much to stop, “you can do it, doll. Come for me let me taste it.”

You began to shake and grab a fist full of curls as you came. He gradually slowed down, helping you ride out your orgasm. You felt so relaxed.

He looked so full of himself. He pulled his face away from you, his lips were red and swollen from his own work. Mattheo held up his right hand, the one that was fingering you, you could see the wetness on it. 

With his clean hand he pulled down his pants and underwear in one quick motion. Rubbing his cock with his right hand, letting your cum wet it. He used two fingers to beacon you over, before he realized you couldn’t move.  He left your wrists still tied, and pulled you forward onto your feet. “Look me in the eye, princess. Do you promise to be quiet now?” 

You could only nod. That was enough for him, because he had other plans to occupy your mouth. He removed the belt around your mouth. With your still bonded hands you wiped the spit around your mouth, “God, damn.”

He laughed, “I don't remember being called God before, but you can't continue with its use.” 

Before you could reply with something snarky, he pushed you down onto your knees and had the tip of his cock at your lips, “Sorry, I can’t actually trust you to be quiet, so open wide and take it.”

You obeyed. Though you could only take nearly half of it before it started your gag reflex, “i love that sound baby,” he signed, “is it too big for you?” He didn’t really care for an answer, of course it was. It would have just inflated his ego more. 

“C’mon and let me in more.” slobber just kept going down your chin and onto your breasts. He bucked his hips at the sight, “you’re so fucking pretty.” Mattheo gathered your hair into two bunches, using them as handlebars. He was straight throat fucking you at this point. You began to feel faint, and he saw it too, so he pulled his cock all the way out allowing you to breathe. “You’re doing so good.” He kissed you on the lips, using his shirt to help clean your chin.

You were just about to say thank you when he reinserted his cock into your mouth. You pull your head back and he actually allows you. With your bound hands you stroke the portion of his cock that you couldn’t take in, pumping it. Admiring the veins running down it . You wrap your lips around his lip, swirling your tongue around. His precum was like a classified drug to you, it was so delicious. You kept at your pace wanting more to come out, “you’re obsessed” Mattheo pointed out thrilled.

“Talk to me, love” He touched your ear lobe. 

You spoke to him with his cock still in your mouth, so it slurred your speech, “yob ase s’ gob.” 

He chuckled but groaned with the vibrations your voice made, “what was that?”

You stopped sucking, “you taste so good!” you smile at him. This brought him to his knees, literally he kneeled beside you, he removed the tie around your wrists rubbing them for you. Both your eyes are on the same level now.

“You really are beautiful.” He said causing you to blush. “Don’t turn all shy on me now, princess.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear in a soft gesture. “We’re far from being shy with each other right now.” Mattheo kissed you.

“I just like hearing you say that, my king.”

With a voice filled with affectionate warmth, “when you call me that it makes me want to keep you by my side forever, my precious princess.” He began to kiss you harder, “I want to keep you forever.” He pushed his soft side out of the way and pushed you onto your knees in front of him You arched your back so your ass was in the air, “this is what you fucking teased me with last night.”

You laughed, “yeah I know.”

“So you wanted this bad huh?”

“Yess Matty I want you.” 

He admired the scene in front of him. He kneaded your ass, biting it and making your cry again. “Don’t make me use the belt again.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet now.” You cupped your own mouth. You saw his jacket on the floor and took it under your head.

“You’re so obedient, it's very good. How haven’t I bred you sooner? I want you pregnant with the next Riddle heir.” He ran a hand slowly over your back, gently but possessively.

“I have actually been thinking the same thing. My body is ready for your seed, im..im ready for it.”

When you agreed with his wish it only made something in him pop, something shifted in Mattheo’s eyes. The hunger and desire growing. 

He spat out at your spread exposed pussy, as if it wasn’t already sopping wet. He just liked the idea of having his bodily fluids in you. He rubbed his full length on the outside of your slit, teasing you, “you think your tiny pussy can take my cock better than your mouth?”

Shit…actually that was an honest question. The few times you tried already, you were only able to take in 3/4th of his length before tearing and asking him to stop. Plus you both haven’t fucked in a long while, “Matty, I’ll try by best…” you sounded a little uneased. 

He pulls on your arm turning you to look behind at him, “We don't have to rush this. But I promise i’ll make it good for you if you let me. You’re my wife and you will be the mother of my children soon enough.” He let go of you, bending over to kiss your shoulder blades, biting them roughly before going to your ear, “I’ll try to take it slow, but I really need you to take all of me in, darling. I need my seed to make it directly into your womb. I don’t want it to possibly drip out. You can do it.”

You moaned at his words of encouragement, you will try your best. He continued to stroke your hair, “listen to me: you’re my everything. And I won't let you get hurt, okay?” He kissed your temple, “if it is too unbearable, just tell me and I'll stop. Nothing is more important to me than your comfort and trust…but I do want you to give me a baby. A couple of them.” He laughed like his usual self, “so please try hard to take me like a good girl.” 

You pulled at his hair harshly, “just fuck me Riddle.” with that he slapped your ass leaving a red welt in the shape of his hand and squeezing it to lengthen the pain, “atta girl”. He finger fucked you a little bit more before realigning the tip of his dick to your hole. 

You closed your eyes, and he began to press into you. It wasn't so bad, actually it already felt amaz - -- okay nevermind. He felt you squeeze around him, and he stopped to reassess the situation, “please princess, let me in.”

“Matty I don’t…I dont think I can” you gripped onto his jacket for dear life.

“You can and you will.” He reached over to rub your clit, it helped relax you and he kept sinking deeper and deeper in you. You bit the jacket. It was a crazy mix of pain and pleasure.

“There we go.” he was satisfied, he was finally balls deep inside you, “see I knew you could do it.” He stayed still trying to let your pussy try to adjust around him, “you’re so fucking tight. Actually, I was having second thoughts, but here we are.” He said proudly kissing your neck from behind.

“You’re so fucking huge Mattheo, you’re too good to me.” 

“I adore you” he whispered, “there’s no one else like you. You’re…you’re the love of my life. Both our parents saw that before we did. They knew we were meant for each other when they arranged our marriage.” He groaned as you squeezed him purposefully this time.

“I love you Mattheo. I do.” You manage, your words felt true to each other. With a tender grip he starts  to move his hips slowly away from you only to slam back in. Watching your face for any sign you wanted him to stop but all he got was a smile and, “I’ll give you as many children as you want.”

Without proper warning he quickened his pace holding you face down to the floor. You closed your eyes tightly, locking your jaw. You inhaled his smell through his jacket. Pain was being replaced with a pleasurable numbness. Your brain was going utterly stupid, “make me pregnant Mattheo. Let me make you into a proper daddy.” 

He chuckled at that, “fucking take my dick then. I’ll make you the most beautiful mommy there is. You're such a good wife and I know you’ll be the best mother to my children.”

Mattheo pressed his hand just under your belly button, he took one of your hands and pressed it there with you, “can you feel my cock, darling? You can feel it through your tummy.”

“Yes I can. I feel so full.” You moan.

His grunt and thrusts began to get sloppy, his balls slapping against your clit. It made you roll your eyes behind your head, “princess, I think…” 

“Me too, let's cum together. Let's mix ourselves more.” You raised your ass higher, tilting it ignoring the back pain you were getting.

“I’m going to fill you up even more,” he whimpered, his voice faltering as if he was about to cry, “don't let anything drip out. Take it all in okay?” You nodded, holding your head up and twisting it so uncomfortably around to the side so you can watch him release himself into you. What a sight for sore eyes. 

His curls were plastered onto his forehead with sweat, his cheeks were flushed. Mattheo’s eyes looked back at your eyes with a longing you haven't seen before, “I love you Y/N. thank you thank you thank you.” He began to repeat, as he shot a large load into you. He was right, you could feel your tummy grow already. You followed shortly after, squeezing and milking his cock out more.

His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he came down from his climax. His body was trembling, but he held you tightly. His face buried in the crook of your neck, “that was incredible.” He looked at you with adoration and contentment, “you’ve given me everything i’ve ever wanted. Thank you.”

“Thank you for choosing me after all.”

Mattheo was about to pull out, but you didn’t allow him. You pulled at his shirt, making him spoon you on the floor. You wanted to warm his cock, but also use it to continue plugging in his cum inside of you, to be marinated. You told him this too, and he flushed, “hey you said we wouldn’t be getting shy with each other, it’s too late for that.” He laughed making his dick still twitch inside you, you let out a moan. He grinned mischievously. You gave him an uncertain look.

Mattheo looked at the clock “yeah we should probably just move the meeting to a different day.”

“Do I really have to call it in again?”

“Yes yes you do, you’re my new assistant remember?” 

“Yeah and soon to be the mother of your children too.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace. “I promise to take care of you and our little ones,” he said with sincerity, “You’ll be the most beautiful, loving mother, and I'll support you every step of the way.”

He tugged on the phone’s cord, pulling it so that it drops on the floor beside the two of you, “go on call again. Move it for next week.” He starts kissing your jaw again, moving his hips and slithering his hand back to your clit, “I hope you didn’t think we were finished, I think I can give you more of my cum to hold.”

“Mattheo…” 

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

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@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[wonderthor]

your neighbor sukuna who lives in one of the apartments upstairs may be a rough and dangerous man, but he’s funny and nice to you, so you become friends anyway. you even develop a little crush on him, and when he calls you little pet names like sweetheart and doll, you start to think he might like you too. one night you decide to go out for drinks, and as he drinks more he lets out more about his past and you learn he is a little more dangerous than you thought. he talks about how he broke into people’s houses at night all the time to steal their things and when he finally did get caught and locked up, he had probably broke into over 200 people’s houses by then.

“that’s crazy, but you wouldn’t get that lucky with me though”

he sets his beer down, raising his eyebrow at you in question.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that im a very light sleeper, always have been. and there’s no way you couldn’t break into my apartment without me knowing it.”

he picks his beer back up and takes a swig before looking back at you with a smirk.

“you sure about that?”

you confidentially smirk back at him.

“oh absolutely. i get woken up if the wind blows a little too hard against the window. i even woke up that one time i had a mouse in my apartment and i could hear it scurrying across the floor. i would definitely hear you open my door and walk around.”

sukuna taps his fingers against the bar counter with his head in his hands and his eyes still on you, thinking.

“how about we make a bet.”

“a bet? on what?”

“if i can get into your locked apartment and into your bedroom without waking you up, i win. if i do, you win.”

“and what do i get when i win?”

sukuna chuckles at that, almost like a villain’s laugh.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

you roll your eyes at him.

“oh please, you sound way to confident in your impossible chance at winning.”

he laughs at you again.

“i am. there’s a reason i was able to break in so many people’s houses while they were still in there without getting caught. it’s kind of my specialty.”

you take another sip of your drink and lean back.

“your specialty, huh? and you still haven’t mentioned what we get if we win.”

“what do you want?”

his tone caught you off guard for a second, getting deeper and more serious without you expecting it.

“u-um, i don’t know. you can pick.”

he smiles at you again, a devious smile this time as he leans in closer to you.

“if i win, i get to do whatever i want to you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me.”

time stops for a minute and you don’t realize that you’re just staring at him until after several seconds.

“what do you m-mean by that?”

he leans back to hold his beer and his playful demeanor is back.

“well according to you, you won’t have to worry about that, right?”

a couple of days went by and you were still on edge. you mentally slept with your eyes open and even kept your bedroom door cracked, just in case you really couldn’t hear him come in. even though you knew it was just a bet and a silly little game, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest. maybe because you still didn’t really know what he said meant. and there was also the eerie feeling that you were essentially waiting for him to break into your apartment, like a real robber. like the robber he used to be. and even though you knew he wasn’t dangerous to you and wouldn’t hurt you, you were still admittedly a little scared. you truly didn’t know what to expect.

it had been a couple of weeks now and you were sure sukuna was fucking with you. whenever you saw him in passing, he was his normal playful and flirty self, and mentioning nothing of the bet. you were starting to think he was kidding, just making that up to scare you and mess with you. or you also thought he could have just forgotten, since he was drinking a little and couldn’t have forgotten all about it.

but little did you know that you were playing right into his hands. he was waiting on you to lose your edge, to slowly get comfortable enough again to slip into deep and dream-filled sleeps. that’s why you didn’t expect it, why you didn’t expect to lose.

when you woke up one night, you felt your heart fall out of your body and your eyes almost jump from their sockets. there he was, in your apartment, in your bedroom, on your bed, leaning over you on his hands and knees. when he saw that you were awake and too stunned to speak, he smirked and leaned in closer to you until his face was just inches from yours.

“guess i win, sweetheart.”

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 possessive ¡

summary rafe only realizing he's head over heels for you after you give up on getting him to like you, and move on to someone else. jealousy overrules his resist to give you space, eventually confronting you about the situation.

contains jealousy, slight angst, confessions, hurt/comfort, fluff!! wc; 2.7k

a/n fluff and angst yaya this was very fun 2 write ^-^ hope u enjoy!!

You knew it was time to get over Rafe when you caught him laughing and messing around with another girl, while he barely ever sent a smile your way. 

It broke your heart to pieces, the sight of the man whom you loved the most, cracking jokes with a girl he met five minutes ago, when you’ve been trying to pursue him ever since you were teens. 

Your family were good friends with the Camerons, which is how you were introduced to Rafe. After you moved to figure eight, his family were of great help when it came to adjusting. Sarah was kind enough to show you around town, and Rafe… well he was there. 

You developed an attraction to the boy from the moment you saw him, and it just grew from there. You knew your love was unrequited, however, you couldn’t help it, not with the slightest moments hinting that he might’ve been into you.

Whether it was the small smile he’d flash you as a sincere apology, or how protective he’d get whenever his friends try to influence you in a bad way. It all made your pulse quicken, getting your hopes up, thinking that he might’ve had the same motives as you. 

You were in the same friend group, meaning of course, you’d be seeing him often. That was besides the family dinners you shared every weekend, nothing but causing your unrequited crush to evolve into something more. 

You knew Rafe, the boy always kept to himself, the older he got, the more mature he became, distancing himself from his surroundings. That only made you want him more, knowing deep down, there was more to him, not just the cold persona he created for himself. 

You thought it was a fleeing moment, that you’d probably get over him as you grew, but you didn’t; in fact, things only got worse. You started wanting more from him, feeling your heart break a little whenever he introduced you as a family friend, or dismissed his friends whenever they teased you two about being together. 

He’d always laugh it off, brushing off their assumptions with a simple, ‘we’re just friends, she’s like Sarah to me’, and that, it really did it for you. You’d ignore him for a day or two, and give in when he texts you asking whether you were going to show up at the family gathering. 

Sure, he broke your heart, but he was quick to cover it up with sweet words that were the bare minimum to others, but to you? They meant the world to you, and that alone was enough to sum up your feelings for him.

However, this time around, nothing could fix the pang of emptiness that filled your chest, when you spotted Rafe laughing with another girl that wasn’t you, not a worry behind his eyes. He looked happy, that when you saw him, tears instantly welled up in the corner of your eyes, feeling your heart sink to your stomach from the scene you had witnessed.

That was it, your last straw. You decided it was finally time to move on, not able to bear the pain anymore. It was a hurtful sight, really. You validated the fact that you might end up with him one day, your dreams coming crushed when you lost all hopes of ever having him.

It was clear that something was going on between them, hell,  who were you to decide who he ends up with? After all, you were just a family friend to him, nothing more. 

You spent the next few days, weeks, months getting over him, you were determined to do it this time, hanging out less with him, and instead spending more time with the pogues. You started attending less family gatherings, not going unless your parents insisted on dragging you there. 

And when you did join them, you’d avoid the boy with all your might, looking past the puzzled expression that spread across his face whenever he saw you. His gaze would be glued to you the whole night, seeking your eyes with his own, even if it was for a mere moment. 

But you didn’t give him the satifcations. You wanted him to know that you weren’t the same girl who begged for his attention for years, only getting it now that you were ignoring him. 

Rafe on the other hand, well, he can’t state that he wasn’t desperate to find out what went down. Things were normal between you two, until one day, you decided to randomly ignore him, not bothering to text him, or check up on him anymore. 

He tried to crack a conversation out of you, whenever you attended events– which was rarely, now on, merely to be met with a dry response in return. You’d brush off his concerned questions, coming up with an excuse to immediately leave the conversation. 

He had them memorized by now, it was either you getting a phone call, or a text, sometimes needing to use the bathroom came in handy, and the most common one was of course, that you weren’t feeling well, telling him you’ll continue the conversation later on, though that was a lie. 

Rafe was well aware of that. He knew you were upset at him for something he did, that not even the things he usually does to get your attention could solve it. He wishes you discussed your discomfort with him instead of completely bailing on him, refusing to hangout with the rest of your friend group whenever he’s around. 

He can’t lie and say it didn’t hurt his ego, because it did, seeing you give someone the same smile you’d flash him months ago, now desperate for even a single word out of you. For a while, he thought going with the flow would turn things back to how they were, but that only made it worse.

He was starting to miss hanging out with you, having you chill on his bed while he played video games, his whole room smelling like you for days, from being able to recognize your scent on his pillow. 

It bothered him, not being able to hear all about your day, seeing your excitement dedicated to someone else, when it should’ve been him instead. He could only watch you from afar now, gaze burning through your skin until you somehow acknowledged him. 

Going to parties wasn’t fun anymore, he didn’t look forward to events now that you weren’t there, only attending in case he got to see you. He tried, he really did, attempting to get over the uncomfortable feeling rushing through his insides whenever he spots you from afar, wanting nothing but to go up to you, tell you all about how much he missed you.

He knew you though, he was aware that would lead to no good, causing you to further drift apart with the latter, as if it wasn’t bad enough already. He resisted the pang of jealousy that filled through his chest, held back, until he no longer could. 

He couldn’t help the possesivness that washed over him when he spotted you with a man, laughing at a stupid joke he told you while caressing his arms. The little gesture encouraged the latter, causing him to sneak his arms around your waist. 

Rafe’s jaw clenched, tightening his hold around the beer he had in hand, the sight causing anger to bubble up inside him. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this, acting the same way you did with him in the presence of someone else. 

He felt a ping of jealousy, wishing it was him instead, holding you and claiming you in front of everyone else, despite the misunderstanding you had going on. Topper tried to ease up the tension, noticing the way Rafe was intensely staring at you. 

He offered Rafe a drink, telling him to relax and enjoy the party, however, that wasn’t of much help, as his attention was fixed on you the whole night. He tried to resist, he really did, reaching his limit when the boy leaned down to kiss your cheek, the action earning a chuckle out of you. 

That alone, it had Rafe raging, walking towards you with anger visible on his face. He didn’t bother apolgizing to the people he bumped into on the way to you, his mind too accompanied with you to process anything else. 

His breath knocked out of his chest once he was in your presence, your scent instantly filling his nostrils, the same one he���s been grieving to take a whiff of, even for a moment. You turned in the latter’s direction when you sensed him hovering behind him, yet in the other man’s hold. 

“Rafe?” You mumbled over the loud music playing, noticing the look of discomfort on his face. “Is something wrong?”

“You’re coming with me.” He replied, grabbing you by the wrist, merely for you to yank his hand off, immediately growing irritated. 

“What are you doing?” You shot back, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “What the hell, dude? Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

“Mhm, you look real busy, cuddled up in a random dude’s arms.” He scoffed, “Your moment told me to drop you off, I’m taking you home.”

“I'm capable of getting myself home,” your face scrunched with annoyance, reaching out for your phone, checking to see whether your mom texted you. “Besides, my mom didn’t even say anyth–”

“For fuck sake,” he cut you off, tugging you by your arm, this time able to drag you off the man’s side, who stared at you with confusion. “Just come with me, why are you making things complicated?” 

You mumbled a quick sorry to the man, as Rafe dragged you out against your own will, leading you through the dimly streets, until you eventually approached his car. He unlocked the vehicle, opening the door to the passenger seat, silently signaling for you to get in.

“What are you doing, Rafe?” You shouted, shoving him off of you. “What is wrong with you?”

“Get in.” He replied, tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

“I’m not going with you,” you stated, persistent with your decision. “My mom didn’t ask you to drop me off, I know you’re lying to me.” 

“Get in the fucking car,” he ordered, causing you to slightly wince. Realization washed over him, aware that he was scaring you. “Fuck, I’m sorry– I didn’t mean to–”

“Fuck you,” You hit his chest, attempting to stop him from taking another step forward. “You always fucking do this; every time you see me happy.” 

“Listen, okay– I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you like that.” He muttered, gaze lingering on your arms pressing to his chest. “Let me jus’ get you home, so I know you’re safe.” 

“You can’t do that,” you choked out, feeling tears form in the corner of your eyes. “You can’t do this to me anymore, I won’t allow it.”

“Why not?” He questioned, frustration visible through his voice. “I did it before, why can’t I do it now?” 

“That’s the problem,” you shook your head, gaze finding the ground, afraid you would give in if you saw Rafe. “I don’t want you to treat me the same way you did, I’m tired of you confusion’ me, over n’ over again.” 

“Then what about me?” He asked, causing you to glance up. “Have you considered my feelings when you decided to ignore me?” 

“Why should I?” You scoffed, despite the tears falling down your face. “After all, I’m just a family friend, nothing more.”

“Fuck that,” he spit out, “That’s not a good excuse for you to ignore me. You know how confused I was?” 

You remained silent for a moment, taken aback by the statement. Rafe’s hands found his forehead, letting a stressful sigh escape his throat. 

“You know how hard it was not having you around? I tried, I really did try to get over it, ignore the fact that you’re killing me alive, while being in another man’s arms.” He uttered, exhaling through his parted lips before he continued. “I mean– what even happened?” 

“You–” You started, vision going blurry, your tears like a waterful now. “You led me on, Rafe. Kept me around, despite the fact that you have a girlfriend.” 

“I– what?” He cocked his head to the side, fixing his attention on you. “I have a girlfriend?”

“You don’t?” You sniffled, now just as confused as he was. “Who was that girl you were with at Topper’s party?”

“Val?” Rafe questioned, recalling the said girl you were talking about. “You idiot, is that why you’re upset at me?” 

You flashed him a puzzled expression, watching as a smile tugged at his lips, washing over his frustration. It made you angry for a second, feeling belittled under his gaze, despite the seriousness you had displayed across your face. 

Rafe relaxed under your gaze, and you could’ve sworn his eyes flickered to your lips, but that might be your vision, blurred up with the tears in your eyes. However, before you could further question the latter, he leaned forward, ceasing the distance between you. 

His lips captured yours in a soft kiss, one you’ve been dying for throughout your entire years of knowing Rafe, crushing on him, not being able to reach out and touch him, even though you were dying to do it. You tensed under his hold for a moment, relaxing when he moved his mouth over yours, the gesture bringing you back to reality. 

You returned the kiss, feeling your pulse quicken within every passing moment. You couldn’t believe it, Rafe Cameron, the one whom you’ve been crushing on for years is kissing you, and you loved every second of it.  

The boy pulled away, letting his forehead rest over yours. His nose slightly brushed yours, and he was so close, you could feel his breath fanning over your face. He cupped your face with one of his hands, wiping your tears with his fingers. 

“Val’s my cousin, by the way.” He clarified, chuckling when an audible gasp escaped your throat. 

“You’re kidding.” You covered your mouth, disbelief visible on your face. 

“Mhm, I’m not.” He sneaked his arms around your waist, a teasing grin forming on his lips as he pecked your temple. “She was visitin’ the island, so it caught me off guard when I saw her.”

“Right.” You replied, too embarrassed to meet the boy’s gaze. “That’s…”

“Cute,” he snickered, continuing your sentence. “You’re so adorable, I didn’t know you were ignoring me ‘cause you were jealous.” 

“Shut up!” You shoved his shoulder, “‘s not funny.” 

“I thought you knew how I felt about you.” He started, embracing you in a hug as his chin gently rested on top of your head. 

“How you felt about me?” You repeated, feeling your face heat up. 

“I like you.” He confessed, “I like you so much, it hurts seeing you with someone else, knowing I should've been the one in his position.” 

You froze in your spot, eyes slightly widening at the confession. Your heart was beating so hard, you were afraid it might pop out of your chest any second now. You were in a state of disbelief, mind too hazed up to comprehend what the boy said. 

The Rafe Cameron likes you, out of everyone else, you. Teen you would be screaming and fanning herself right now. 

“How was I supposed to know that?” You muffled against his chest, fingers fiddling with the buttons attached to his shirt. “You always ignored me, y’know.” 

“That’s not true,” he pulled away, “Everyone in our friend group knows I like you, I was scared it might make you uncomfortable, that’s why I always brushed it off whenever they teased you about me.” 

“You’re so stupid,” you chuckled, sniffilng once more. “I’ve liked you for years, you know that?”

“Oh, I know now.” He cupped your face, a knowing smile suppressing it’s way across his. “Never ignore me again, tell me next time something bother you, okay baby?” 

You nodded, nuzzling your face into his chest once again. You let silence seep through the air for a moment, enjoying the comfortable hug Rafe wrapped you in, letting the boy rock you back and forth. 

“I had no idea who that man was, by the way,” you clarified, cutting through the quietness. “I jus’ went with the flow in hopes of getting you riled up.”

“I knew it!” 

[aphrodeiities]

ꜱᴀᴛᴜʀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴋᴀʀᴍᴀ

I DON'T CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY POSTS TO BE COPIED ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND TO BE COPIED INTO ANOTHER LANGUAGE.

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"𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐞."

⟶ saturn in astrology is the main commodity in the spirituality that governs karma that the child inherits from their father. saturn is the teacher in astrology and in Greek Belief, can be seen as kronus.

♱ if you don't know of kronus' story, he was told that a child of his would be able to inherit his status and over take him. thus, he began to eat his children, and when zeus was born, gaea fed him a stone a size of a child and hid zeus away until he was strong enough to take down his father and save his siblings.

♱ and after his take down of kronus, zeus inherited his father's status and began to rule mount olympus. in this lesson, we can see jupiter as the good you get after the defeat of inherited karma.

♱ we can see an example of kronus eating his children and zeus having the inherited karma to have many children.

SATURN IN THE SIGNS AND HOUSES ⬎

♇ SATURN IN ARIES/1H ⟶ father might've been someone who had too much of an ego, father might've been someone with a strong temper, and you having this saturn placement means you have to be someone who learns how to control your anger and even libido. this placement could indicate that your father might've been a lazy person and didnt strive for the potential he could've had, so now you have the responsibility of being someone "who has to make it", and even being someone who is pioneering and successful. could feel ashamed easily when you dont see yourself progressing in life. could also have the karma of being someone who thinks more clearly and not "do first and think later". your father also could've been overly dominant, so you have the karma of being someone who has to be less power-hungry.

♇ SATURN IN TAURUS/2H ⟶ father might've been someone who didnt know how to handle finances. might've been someone who spoke over people and dismissed the opinion of others. could've been someone who was too lazy to make money, and too stubborn. your father might've been someone who couldnt keep it in their pants as well, and wasnt really grateful for the things in his life. so you have to be someone who needs to find your value, a stable way to make money. having to be someone who is patient with other people, and even being close to your family members. this placement can imply that you could have the karma of being the one who is the money-maker in your family. could even have to find a healthy life style with food.

♇ SATURN IN GEMINI/3H ⟶ like the taurus/2h, your father might've been someone who spoke over people and didnt consider the opinions of others. your father might've been someone who spoke poorly behind other people's back and even might've stolen from other people. whether is be possessions and ideas. so you could have the karma of learning how to speak in a healthy way with other people, being someone who has to develop critical thinking and going through trials and tribulations where you are held accountable with much things you do. people with this placement might find themselves always going through something, so doing the most small ill thing to someone could cost you a lot. could go through a lot of stalling moments in life because you might have to rid of your two-faced ways. could also mean might find it hard coming up with ideas as you have to learn how to be original.

♇ SATURN IN CANCER/4H ⟶ this placement can imply that your father figure might've been someone who was distant with their family and even absent. might've been someone who was manipulative and not emotionally caring, your father figure might've been someone who didnt leave a legacy, so now you are finding yourself being the person who has to work towards greatness and leave a legacy and will for the descendants. and might even not want to have children because of how you were brought up. could have a fear of children or having a family. could have the karma of having to have a family and not repeat the same mistake as the father, doesnt need to be your own family. could be found family. this placement could also mean you have to learn to be emotionally intelligent and mature. if you want your own family, there's a lot of generational curses you have to stop.

♱ SATURN IN LEO/5H ⟶ saturn in the fifth house can imply that your father might've been into infidelity, could've been someone who wasnt as present in your childhood. with the leo influence, could be someone who might've restricted the fun out of other people, even their goals. could've been someone who was too arrogant and didnt care about the feelings of others. currently, you could be someone who could be struggling to reach your goals and knowing how to let loose. this placement could mean you could have the karma of not repeating bad habits onto your future children, if you do want some. or could have the karma of not getting into much relationship because "badness" normally comes out of it. might have to learn to not be controlling of others, and running away from romantic partners who could be very controlling.

♱ SATURN IN VIRGO/6H ⟶ similar to the 5h and leo section. this placement can insinuate that father might've been controlling towards other people, might've been someone who didnt care about their own health or the physical or mental health of others. might've been someone who allowed obstacles to stop them from reaching who they're supposed to be. now you could have the karma of having to overcome slothness, having to be someone who has to fight through much daily problems, and even having to be a health-freak because you could be someone who is easily sick. this placement can even indicate of having to suffer through bad co-workers.

♱ SATURN IN LIBRA/7H ⟶ once again, similar to 5h. saturn in both libra and in the seventh house could indicate that your father might've been someone who has destroyed homes and relationships. a player a cheat. could've been someone with a bad reputation, and might've been harsh and mean to other people. could've taken the advantage of other people as well. and for you, this could mean you could the karma of being someone who doesnt get into much relationships, or almost every relationship you get into is karmic. there could always be this circumstance where you always have to prove your goodness to other people, and meeting people who are unnecessarily mean to you. people from your father's past disliking you as well.

♱ SATURN IN SCORPIO/8H ⟶ your father might have been someone who was too overly dominant, might've taken stuff from other people and even abused their power onto other people. this placement could also mean your father might've been someone who was too intense and even too dangerous. so, with you, you have one of the biggest karmas compared to other people, having to learn how to stand up for yourself because sometimes you might feel like you can allow people to walk over you. having the karma of not getting inherited money and having to build that for yourself. could also mean could feel undervalued, and trying not to feel valued through sex and even drugs. this could mean you might attract lethal company, having to strengthen your discernment so you know who to run away from.

♇ SATURN IN SAGITTARIUS/9H ⟶ saturn being in either the ninth house or sagittarius shows that your father might've been someone who forced their beliefs onto you or other people. might've been over-domineering with their views in the world, and might've been someone who disappeared in your life a lot, or was just very immature. you could have the karma of going through a lot of things, might've met life's roughness and cruelty early in your life. you could the karma of struggling faith in others, yourself or even in your faith. could also be someone who might find it hard to debate with other people. so, knowing how to stand your ground could be something you had to learn.

♇ SATURN IN CAPRICORN/10H ⟶ saturn being in the tenth house shows that your father might've been someone who was disconnected from their responsibilities, could've been a dead beat. could have been someone who was controlling of other people's goals and careers, might've been a restrictive person in general, and might not even be really liked by the public, [or family community you belong to]. this could mean you have to make a lane for yourself, and even having to go through the burdens of having people misinterpret your character without even knowing who you are. having to feel like you have to work ten times harder than the people around you so your success and achievements could be acknowledged by other people. could also have the habit of wanting to get validation from other people. might feel like you get exiled by everyone one you know.

♇ SATURN IN AQUARIUS/11H ⟶ saturn being in the eleventh house or in aquarius means that your father might've been someone who didnt express their creativity. could've been someone who was considered a mean friend and even someone who was too conservative. might've been someone who looked down on other people, and might've been someone who detached themselves from other people all the time. so right now you could be someone who struggles to make friends or have a stable friendship group. could have to go through obstacles of friends who attempt to walk all over you, this can also mean you could be someone who struggles to express their self-identity, individuality and even creativity. being your own person is something you have to learn how to be.

♇ SATURN IN PISCES/12H ⟶ this placement could mean your father might've been someone who was disconnected with reality, might've projected onto too much people, might've jinxed themselves a lot. could've been someone who became obsessed with faith and might've been extreme to the people around him. could mean your father figure could have been someone who might've had struggles with drugs and alcohol. so you could be going through the karma of going through your own addictions, whether it be drugs, sex or money, could be someone who feels like you're exiled no matter where you go, so you have to go through this period of having to find your community, your tribe. being someone who doesnt get your hopes to high because life would hit you with reality all the time. could be someone who has to be idolising other people, chiefly people in your real life, because you could end up becoming disappointed with them.

masterlist

paid chart readings open :)

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 11: It's Coming

Summary: Things have begun to shift in your developing relationship with your pack. Unfortunately, nature has the worst timing in the world. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, medical stuff, plenty of fluff.

A/N: I wrote like 90% of this chapter on my phone so please forgive any weird typos. I'm super excited for this one and this whole part really. Lots of good stuff coming up!!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

At first you’re not quite sure what pulled you from sleep. You’re warm and more comfortable than you have been in a long time, despite the dull throbbing between your thighs. The pillow against your back shifts, a chill settling in as some of the warmth disappears. 

You blink your eyes open, squinting against the harsh blue light of a phone screen. Price lets out a quiet groan, swiping at something before settling his phone back on the nightstand in front of you. His arms wrap back around your middle, his face pressing into the back of your neck as he settles against you again. 

It was his phone vibrating that had woken you, pulling you from the gentle arms of sleep. It’s still dark out, far too early to be up and getting phone calls, especially on a Sunday morning. You wonder how often John actually gets to sleep, between his job and everything he does when he’s not away. You’re understanding the couch in his office more and more now. 

“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, a quiet rumbling vibrating against your back as he purrs.

You don’t need to be told twice, snuggling down under the covers again, letting your eyes close. 

You wake a while later alone. It’s daylight finally, the sunlight coming through the window lighting the room. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling Price’s scent. It still smells a bit like arousal and sex in the room, both of your scents heavy in the air. They blend together surprisingly well, Price’s musky woody scent mixing with the sweetness of your own scent. It makes an intoxicating aroma of alpha and omega. 

Price comes out of the bathroom, slipping back under the covers. You curl up against his side, laying your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you. 

“Morning.” He murmurs, voice heavy with sleep still. 

You hum in response, resting your head over his heart. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, his fingers trailing your bare back. 

“A bit sore.” You say, acknowledging the throbbing between your legs. “Not as bad as I thought I might.” 

Price huffs out a laugh. “It shouldn’t hurt, not if you know what you’re doing.” 

You hum again, the knowledge that he’s very experienced coming to the forefront of your mind. Even if it has been two years, you can imagine him when he was younger, the kind of experiences he must have had. Omegas and barrack bunnies and all sorts of women probably fawned over him. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says quietly, eyes closed as he lays there with you. 

You’re starting to think he might be able to read your mind. 

“Can I ask you something? Something...personal?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. 

He cracks an eye open to stare down at you. “Don’t think you can get much more personal than we already are.” His lips twitch up in a smile. “‘Course, you can ask me anything.” 

“When was the last time you helped an omega through a heat?” You ask, listening to the steady thump of his heart under your ear. 

“Years ago. Well over a decade ago.” He says, voice still thick and raspy with sleep. He clears his throat, a hand settling on your waist. “Back when I was still a Sergeant. I had the idea back then of settling down, finding an omega and having my own pack. Had a few on and off relationships. Then I started getting sent off on more and more dangerous missions. I realized my skill set and my purpose, and gave up the idea of having an omega. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting them through that, if something happened to me. I’ve seen what losing an alpha does to an omega firsthand too many times.” 

A frown tugs at your brows as you lay there against his chest. You know the risk of them dying is high. The CIA had spent ample time warning you of that risk, telling you about how dangerous their lives are and how every assignment, every deployment, could be their last. They could be gone for weeks at a time, months at a time, and they could go and not come back. They know that every time they leave for an assignment it could be their last, and now you’ll be stuck behind knowing they might not be coming back. 

You’ve heard about omegas that have lost their alphas, how damaging it can be. It’s not something you’re taught at the institute. That’s not something you’re supposed to think about, something you shouldn’t have to think about. 

“What’s eating you?” Price asks softly, his finger stroking the pinched skin between your brows. 

You shift against his side, leaning more on his chest as you look up at him. “What if you don’t come back?” 

His smile is a bit grim as he stares up at you, his fingers trailing across your face. “I won’t lie and say that’s not a risk. There’s always a chance.” His fingers trail down your arm to rest on your hand where it’s pressed flat against his chest. “We’re here for a reason. We are the best at what we do.” 

He pauses as your hand moves, your gaze lowering from his as you trace one of the scars on his clavicle. You can only imagine what caused it. A knife? Shrapnel? Where was he and what was he doing when he got it? You might never be able to know all the details. So many secrets, so much you can’t know. 

John wraps his arms around you, easing you off his chest as he rolls you onto your back. You stare up at him as he hovers over you, his hand brushing stray hairs from your face. “Don’t worry too much.” He says, his finger trailing the line of your nose. “We always try our best to make it home. Now we just have an even greater reason to.” 

Your hand cups his cheek as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You hum against his mouth, pressing your body closer against his. You can’t help but smile against his lips as his cock hardens against your thigh. 

“Again?” You murmur against his lips, making him chuckle.

“Can’t blame me when there’s a beautiful omega naked in my bed.” 

Your face burns as he leans back down to kiss you, his hips moving against your thigh. Warmth spreads through your whole body from his scent thickening in the air, his arousal prevalent as he twitches against your leg. 

“John.” You moan softly, hands grasping at his back. 

You both pause as a door shuts in the hallway, the reminder that the others are just a thin wall away coming back to you. The moment is over as your stomach growls, also reminding you that you’ll need to eat eventually. 

John chuckles quietly, leaning up to press a kiss against your forehead. “Come on, let’s get the day started and get some food into you.” 

You frown a bit as he pulls away, cock still hard and angry looking as he stands from the bed. “John?” You call out, scrambling off the bed after him. “You’re just gonna...” 

“Give it a minute and I’ll be fine.” He says, moving to his closet. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Your frown only deepens and you step closer to him, catching him as he turns around. You stare up at him through your lashes, wrapping your hand around his cock. He pauses, letting out a little groan as you squeeze him gently. 

“Let me help you.” You say, dragging your hand along his length. 

His eyes darken as he stares down at you, the pants in his hand dropping to the floor. 

Your face is still a bit flushed as you make your way to the mess. You’re hand in hand with John, dressed comfortably in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings. You can’t help but feel a bit bashful, as if they’re all going to know what you did, as if every soldier in the mess knows you and Price slept together last night. 

They’ve probably been thinking that since you arrived. 

Price leads you through the line, making your tray for you. You nearly beam with pride at him taking care of you, your omega preening with happiness as he carries your tray and his to the table. You take the spot next to Gaz as usual, still practically beaming. 

“Have a good night, love?” Gaz asks, smirking a bit at your pleased state. 

“Yeah.” You say, your face getting warm again at their stares. 

“Practically glowing, kitten.” Johnny says, winking at you from across the table. 

Your face flushes hotter and you quickly bury yourself in your porridge to avoid exploding at the breakfast table. 

“Sounded like ye had a great time.” Johnny continues. 

Christ, they probably heard the whole thing. You halfway want to sink down beneath the table to hide from their knowing stares. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, not really. They’re your pack, and eventually you’ll be in the same position with them too. 

“Didnae know ye had it in ye, kitten.” Johnny continues. “We certainly enjoyed the show.”

You do start to sink down in your seat a bit, surprised steam isn’t rising off your skin from how warm you feel. Gaz’s hand on your leg stops you, his fingers squeezing your thigh gently. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to him, love.” Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “He’s just jealous he didn’t get to go first.” 

“Am not.” Johnny whines, practically pouting. 

You can’t help but smile a bit at his antics. You know from how much he bragged about getting to be your first kiss that he probably was rather put out that John got to be your first. It would have been that way regardless, but you know you asking John before your heat changed things a bit. It would have always been John, though. 

It would have always been your alpha first. 

Gaz’s hand doesn't move from your thigh, holding its place there as you all eat, Johnny still pouting a bit. You know they’ll want to pursue that sort of relationship with you after your heat, but now that John’s removed the barrier of the first time as well, you can only expect them to up the teasing tenfold. A shiver runs up your spine at the thought of Gaz sliding his hand slightly higher, fingers slipping between your legs. 

You’re certain there has to be steam coming off of you now. 

Your thighs squeeze together, trapping Gaz's fingers between them as you continue to try and act normally. Gaz turns his head just slightly, side eyeing you as you continue to try and eat your breakfast as normally as possible. Gaz's grip on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your skin. You fight the noise threatening to come up as he holds his hand there, continuing to eat his breakfast as if nothing is happening. 

You hold Gaz's hand as he walks you back towards the barracks, leaning against his side. His grip around your fingers is tight, not even the rain dampening the heaviness of his scent. It's deeper than usual, the musk of arousal tinging the edges. 

Your back meets your door as soon as you're back in the barracks, Gaz pinning you against the wood. Your own breathing is heavy as you stare up at him, his eyes dark as he meets your gaze. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He groans, leaning down to kiss you. It's far more passionate than you've ever kissed him before, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your waist. “Making all those sweet noises last night.” He breathes against your lips. “Haven't seen Price that relaxed in a long time.” 

Your face warms at his words, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He presses harder against you, pinning you against the door as his tongue prods at your lips. He tastes like the tea he drank with breakfast, herby and earthy. 

“Has us all worked up last night.” He groans against your lips. “Hearing you, knowing our alpha was treating you nice.”

He presses his forehead against yours, staring down at you. You meet his gaze, shivering under the intensity in his deep brown eyes. 

“Johnny bout cried he was so worked up.” Gaz's lips twitch in a smile. “Simon left for the gym bout halfway through, had to work out his tension.”

Your brows raise at the news about what Ghost had been up to last night. You figured he might join Johnny in his room, or perhaps head somewhere so he didn't have to hear you. Not that he would leave because he was being affected by you. 

“Johnny was being such a whiny little bastard. Had no choice but to take pity on him.” Gaz nips at your jawline playfully. “I fear he's going to be unbearable until he gets his chance.” 

“Well, he'll just have to wait his turn.” You say. 

Gaz laughs, kissing you again before he takes half a step back, leaning his arm on the door above you. “Any plans today?”

You shrug, still leaning against your door. “Might read, or nap. Maybe both.” You sink your teeth into your lip, reaching back to put your hand on the door handle. “You wanna come in?” 

Gaz's grin widens into a smile, his eyes practically sparkling. “Sure.”

You open the door, stepping into your room. It's a bit of a mess from you preparing for your date last night. You toss the clothes from your bed onto the floor haphazardly before pushing Gaz onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes before making himself comfortable. You toe off your slippers, grabbing your book before joining him on the bed. He pulls you against his side, pulling his phone out of his pocket as you settle against his chest. A quiet content purr begins rumbling in his chest, easing the tension in your body as you relax against him. 

You stay like that, reading while cuddling Gaz, for quite a while. Your door is wide open still, the others coming and going as they do on the weekends. Gaz keeps your back to his chest, arm wrapped around his middle as he scrolls on his phone while you read. 

Slowly his head starts to droop until it's resting against the top of yours. You can feel the content sleepiness settling into your bones as well, the words on the pages starting to swim a bit. You mark your place, moving just enough to set your book on your nightstand before you curl up against him, letting his even breaths lull you to sleep. 

You jolt awake suddenly as Gaz's arms tighten around you, keeping you from flying off the bed. You blink open your bleary eyes, squinting at Johnny's grinning face inches from yours. His body is draped over both yours and Gaz's, a solid weight against you both. 

“C'mon ye lazies. Gotta eat lunch eventually.” He says, sounding far too chipper for a Sunday afternoon. 

“Fuck off mate.” Gaz says, shoving at Johnny's shoulder. “Was comfy.”

“Yer hogging the omega!” Johnny says, poking Gaz's side. He pushes himself up, scooping you into his arms and lifting you. “Some of us would like tae spend time with ‘er too.” 

You yelp at being lifted suddenly, wrapping your arms around Johnny's neck to hold on for dear life. 

“Well, maybe you just need to be a little bit faster.” Gaz says, standing from the bed. 

“I'm plenty fast.” Johnny almost whines. “Close to beating your time on the course.”

Gaz smirks. “I'll believe it when I see it.” 

You look back and forth between them as Gaz steps closer to Johnny, caging you between them. 

“And ye will see it.” Johnny says.

“Cheeky.” Gaz murmurs, closing the distance between them. 

You stare wide eyed as they kiss just inches in front of your face. It's all tongues and teeth, Soap's chest rumbling against your side as he purrs. A quiet whimper leaves your lips as you watch them, your body starting to get warm again. 

They break apart, both turning to look at you. Gaz's lips turn up in a smirk, Johnny's eyes sparkling. 

“Look at you, kitten.” Johnny smirks. “Ye like watching us?” 

You make another quiet noise, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Johnny slowly lowers you until you're standing between them, Gaz not moving an inch as they trap you in a beta sandwich. Their bodies are warm and solid as you stand there, back to Johnny's chest. You can feel the bulge in his jeans pushing against your ass, Gaz's body a solid weight against your front. 

You can imagine it, naked between them, skin against skin with hands everywhere. A quiet purr begins in your chest, eyes dilating as you stare up at Gaz. He smirks down at you, leaning down towards you. He skirts to the side at the last minute though, kissing Johnny behind you. 

You can't see them this time but lord can you hear it. Johnny is still purring, the sound vibrating against your back. Gaz let's out a quiet sound, his hand dropping to squeeze your waist. 

Johnny pats your side before pulling away. “Should get ye some lunch.”

Your head is still spinning as Gaz hums his approval, stepping away as well. You stand there blinking for a moment at the sudden loss of contact, the sudden shift in energy. 

“C'mon, get yer shoes on, sunshine.” Johnny says. 

You move half in a daze still towards your bed, your body tingling a bit still from the many thoughts that had been racing through your mind. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to itch as you stare down at your bed. Your brows pinch in a frown as you stare down at the mess of blankets and pillows. 

It's not right. 

Your fingertips twitch as you stare at the mess in your nest, your mind taking over as you begin to rearrange the blankets and pillows. You forget you're not alone in the room as you fuss with the blankets until the itching begins to lessen a bit. You fiddle with the pillows, moving them around over and over again until you're happy with how they're organized, the quiet humming in the back of your mind fading away to nothing. 

You sink down on the edge of the bed, letting out a long breath. You feel tired and almost winded after your effort to make sure your nest is just right. 

Nest. 

You're nesting. 

You blink up at Johnny and Gaz, suddenly aware of their presence in your space again. Johnny is staring at you wide eyed, mouth slightly parted in wonder. Gaz has a sparkle in his eye as he grins at you. 

You've just built a nest. 

“Feel better, love?” Gaz asks, still almost beaming from witnessing you make your nest. 

You nod, a sudden weight lifting from your shoulders. You've nested. You're nesting. Everything is going to be okay. 

“C'mon.” Johnny says, slipping your slippers back onto your feet. “Let's get lunch in ye.”

You let him help you up, holding both their hands as you make your way from the barracks, a small, relieved smile on your face.

You wake up nauseous. 

There’s a clawing feeling in your stomach and you’re not sure why. 

It’s early, too early to be up. The sky outside is still dark, and the barracks are quiet. You get up, heading for the bathroom, the gnawing feeling still plaguing your stomach. Cold water on your face doesn't help the light-headedness or the dizziness you’re beginning to feel. 

You can’t possibly be sick. You haven’t been around anyone that’s sick. You know heat sickness isn’t a threat right now. There’s no warnings out about possible exposures. It couldn’t be food poisoning. You eat the same things they do. 

The gnawing intensifies, your stomach rumbling a bit. 

Realization dawns on you suddenly. 

You’re hungry. 

You’re very hungry. 

You check the time on your phone. Three a.m. Still too early for any of the boys to be up, and still a couple hours from when the mess would start serving breakfast. You head for the rec room, hoping there’s at least something in there to tide you over until breakfast. 

You dig through the cabinets, plenty of tea and a couple packets of instant coffee you know belong to Johnny. You dig out a couple protein bars, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge before taking a seat on the couch. 

The protein bars aren’t great. They don’t taste good, but you’re so hungry you don’t care. You down them quickly and the entire bottle of water. For a moment you feel relief, the gnawing in your stomach easing. You head back to bed, slipping back into your room quietly. 

You toss and turn, unable to go back to sleep as the gnawing begins in your stomach once more. You let out a quiet sound, muffled by your pillow as you lay there, knowing you still have a long time until they’ll come and get you for breakfast. 

The thought makes you almost want to cry. 

You’re waiting as soon as they knock, narrowly avoiding Johnny’s hand as you open the door mid-knock. The bright look in his eyes fades as he stares at you. You know you look miserable, maybe a little sick, even. You feel worse, your stomach twisting and gnawing. Those protein bars four hours ago hadn’t been nearly enough. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” He asks, a frown marring his face. 

“Hungry.” You all but whine, slipping out the door, closing it behind you. 

“Ye hungry, kitten? Ye could have said somethin’ sooner. Coulda brought ye somethin’.” Johnny says, following you down the hall. 

You’re determined to get real food and you’re not about to let anything get in your way. You feel ravenous, despite the fact you’d had a good dinner the night before. 

Maybe it hadn’t been enough. 

You make your own tray this time, loading on more than you usually do. You take your normal spot between Price and Gaz, all four of them eyeing your tray as you happily dig in. 

“Hungry, love?” Price asks, watching you spoon huge mouthfuls of porridge into your mouth. 

You nod, chewing quickly before spooning more in. It tastes delicious, something you never thought you would say about British food. 

They all watch in awe as you clear your tray, eating every last crumb, having to refrain from licking it clean. Finally, for the first time since you went to bed last night, you feel full and satisfied. 

“Damn. Putting us to shame.” Gaz says, staring at your empty, nearly clean tray. 

You grow bashful under their stares, realizing you not only out ate them, you also finished first. “I was hungry.” You say, fiddling with your fork. 

“No kidding.” Ghost huffs out, all of them finishing up their trays. 

You’re in a far better mood leaving the mess than you were entering it, the sweet relief of being full after hours of gnawing hunger making you feel almost giddy. Ghost walks you back to the barracks, walking slow enough you can easily keep up with him. So slow, your arm brushes his as you walk next to him. 

“Sorry.” You say, moving a step away from him. You’re so used to standing directly next to the others, you’ve forgotten Ghost prefers his personal space. 

He stares down at you for a moment but doesn’t say anything, holding the door to the barracks open for you. He stands just inside the door, watching you make your way down the hallway to your room. He waits for the click of the lock before he turns, leaving you alone in the barracks again. 

You settle into your usual routine of laying in your nest and reading, the giddiness starting to wear off as the time passes. You make it until ten a.m. when the gnawing hunger begins to return. You let out an annoyed whine, dropping your book to the floor as you roll onto your stomach. 

You want to cry and scream at the same time, watching the clock tick by on your phone. You’re tired of being so hungry, and what’s worse, you don’t even know why. You’re just ravenous and you can’t think of a reason. 

Lunch can’t come soon enough, and you find yourself struggling through the afternoon just as much. It’s almost like your body is on a timer and every two hours you’re suddenly starving, as if you haven’t eaten all day. You eat just as much as you did at breakfast, scarfing down food like you’re a starving animal. 

You certainly feel like one. 

You head to the rec room after dinner, Ghost and Johnny joining you. Johnny takes the seat next to you on the couch, draping his arm behind you as Ghost takes his usual spot in the chair. 

You curl up against Johnny’s side, watching whatever he decides to put on TV half-heartedly. You’re waiting for the inevitable, the gnawing hunger to creep up on you again. 

It does, roughly two hours into your time in the rec room. 

You shift against Johnny, pressing against his side more as you try to ignore the hunger burning through you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, holding you against him. You breathe in his scent, letting the citrusy scent of him wash over you. 

It only serves to make you more hungry. 

You let out a quiet whine, trying to get closer to him. Tears prick at your eyes as you know there’s no relief coming. There’s no more meals until tomorrow. You’ll have to go all night before you can eat again, before you can relieve the hunger. You’re not sure you’ll make it that long. You might perish in the middle of the night, or become violently ill. Perhaps both. 

You let out another quiet whine, standing from the couch. You can’t take it anymore, both Johnny and Ghost watching you as you head for the cabinets, kneeling on the floor and rummaging through everything, desperate to find another protein bar or anything. 

“What are you doing?” Ghost asks, staring at you as you’re halfway in the cabinet, checking every last corner. 

“Hungry!” You snap, half considering eating one of the tea bags just for something. 

You’ve just closed the cabinet door in irritation when an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you from the floor. You let out a yelp, Ghost carrying you easily back to the couch. 

“Stay.” He says after dropping you back next to Johnny. “I’ll be back.” 

Johnny wraps his arms around you as you pout, nearly in tears from how frustrated you are. You’re just so hungry. 

“Easy, kitten.” Johnny says, pulling you back against his chest. 

You nuzzle into him, curling up into a ball against his side. He starts purring quietly, trying to soothe you while you wait for Ghost to return. You can’t pay attention to the TV, Johnny trying to change the channel every time a food related commercial comes on. 

You’re nearly shaking when Ghost returns, arms full of snacks. Your eyes widen as he dumps them on the coffee table, pushing yourself up from Johnny’s chest. 

“Where did you get these?” You ask, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of the coffee table. 

“Vending machine in the mess.” Ghost answers, sitting back down in his chair. 

You stare at him teary eyed, sniffling a little. “Thank you.” 

He grunts in response, turning his gaze back to the TV as you reach for a bag of chips.

You can barely even taste it as you kneel there on the floor, basking in the first taste of sweet relief from a bag of salt and vinegar chips. You grab them by the handful, burning through the small, snack sized bag quickly. 

You’ve barely finished chewing when you’re reaching for a candybar, a sudden realization striking you as your brain begins to regain the ability to think now that it knows relief is coming. You stare at the purple Cadbury on the front of the packaging, your fingers trembling as you hold the candybar. 

You take a deep breath, quickly opening the wrapper before taking a bit, sitting back on your heels as you chew. “Well, shit.” 

“I know, I hate the exam rooms too.” Dr. Keller says, flipping through her clipboard. “Too clinical and sterile looking.” She lifts your hand, removing the pulse monitor from your finger. “A little higher than normal.” She says, writing something down on the clipboard. 

She takes your blood pressure and temperature, writing both down on the clipboard. 

“Temperature is still normal.” She says. “How have you been feeling?” 

“Hungry.” You say, picking at the thin fabric of the hospital gown you’ve been forced into. “Ravenously hungry and clingy.” You continue. “A bit more emotional than normal too.” 

Dr. Keller nods, writing all of it down. “Normal things for your pre-heat, according to your file. Anything out of the ordinary? Aches and pains? Any nausea or vomiting, not related to hunger?” 

You shake your head. “No. Kinda sleepy all the time too, but the hunger makes it hard to sleep.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “That’s normal. Your body is preparing for a few days of very little caloric intake and little rest. I’d say you’re exhibiting all the signs of pre-heat. You’re right on time, as expected.” She gives you a little smile. “Judging by your vitals you still have a few days before the full heat symptoms begin. Any questions?” 

“What do institutes do for heats?” John asks where he’s sitting to the side of the exam table. 

“It depends on the institute.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. 

“FIOT rotated between sedation and isolation.” You say, not really wanting to think back on the heats you had gone through at the institute. “Sedation for the full heat, or shutting us in private rooms for a week to ride out the symptoms alone to avoid triggering heats in the other omegas.” 

“Neither are great, but in that sort of environment there’s not a lot that can be done. Sedation is the better of the two, though it can still be disorienting. Isolation is painful and risky, especially if proper care isn’t given.” Dr. Keller says. 

“Is sedation an option for the future?” Price asks. 

You turn to look at him, before looking back at Dr. Keller. 

“It’s something we can explore. I know it can’t be expected of you to be here for every heat. We can start exploring some alternatives after this heat is over and I have a better idea of what they’re going to look like.” Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile. “Now, I’d like to do a little exam just to give me a baseline for after your heat when I check for any abnormalities or injuries.” 

She directs you to lay down on the exam table and put your feet in the stirrups. You suddenly feel nervous, her words doing little to calm you. John appears in your peripheral, slipping his hand into yours. 

“Is that a risk?” You ask as Dr. Keller pulls a clean pair of gloves on. 

“Only a small one.” She says, standing at the end of the table. “I know you’ve probably heard all the horror stories, but those are only really concerns with inexperienced alphas who have never helped an omega through a heat before, especially those who had limited exposure to omegas in general.” She smiles at you. “You’re in good hands, my dear.” 

She does her exam, letting you sit up once she’s finished. John helps you up, still holding your hand. Dr. Keller’s words do ease your concerns just a bit, but you can’t help the images flashing through your mind, the horror stories of mutilations and even deaths. You trust Price to take care of you, but at the same time, you won’t know until it’s over. 

“Everything looks good.” She says. “The best thing you can do right now is try to satiate the pre-heat symptoms and take this time to make sure everything is ready and in place for when the full heat begins. Don’t worry too much.” She looks pointedly at you. “I’ll be on call and ready should something happen.” Her gaze turns to John. “Your beta knows what to look out for, right?” 

John nods. “Kyle has been doing a lot of research. He knows what to do.” 

“Good.” Dr. Keller says, looking back at you. “Why don’t you get dressed, then we can go back to my office where it’s more comfortable and talk some more.” 

Dr. Keller leaves you alone in the room, Price helping you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the room with you. You turn to look up at him, Dr. Keller waiting for you near her office door. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Price says, leaning down towards you. 

“Yeah.” You say, standing up on your toes to kiss him. 

You try to ignore the look on Dr. Keller’s face as you walk past her and into her office, your face warming a bit in response. You take your normal seat, trying to get comfortable despite your bashfulness. 

“You and Captain Price seem a lot closer.” Dr. Keller says as she sits across from you on the couch. 

You nod. “Yeah. We, uh, we have gotten closer.” You chew on your lip. “We slept together...on Saturday night. Had a date, he cooked dinner. Then we...did it.” 

Dr. Keller’s brows raise at your words, her face surprised. “Oh? Is that so? Is that something you wanted?” 

You nod. “I asked him if he’d do it. I wanted my first time to be when I could remember it...before I would feel like it was something that had to be done.” 

Dr. Keller hums, writing something down. “Did you have fun?” 

Your face warms at her words, and you halfway wish the chair would swallow you whole. You nod, hiding your fingers beneath your sleeves again. “Yeah. I uh, started nesting too.” 

Dr. Keller’s face breaks out into a huge smile. “That’s great! That’s fantastic news! Perfect timing too.” 

You nod. “Yeah. Started on Sunday. Been feeling it since.” 

“Good. That gives us one less thing to worry about.” She sets her notebook aside, crossing her legs as she stares at you. “How do you feel about your heat coming so soon?” 

“Nervous.” You answer honestly. 

“It can be a bit daunting, I’d imagine, your first heat with an alpha. Captain Price knows what he’s doing, though. He and Sergeant Garrick will take good care of you.” 

“I know.” You say, fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s still scary. A lot of things can happen and...what if one of them does?” 

“It’s not very likely.” Dr. Keller reassures you. “Captain Price knows what he’s doing. He’s experienced with omegas and heats and the likelihood of him losing control is small, even after so long without any contact with an omega. It sounds like Sergeant Garrick has educated himself on things to look for, and what to do to help. I’ll be ready and on call the entire time as well. I’ll make regular check-ins with Sergeant Garrick too, to make sure everything is going smoothly. You’re not alone in this. We’ll all make sure you’re well taken care of. I know it’s a lot to ask you to trust people that are still somewhat strangers, but we all have your best interests in mind here.” 

“I know.” You say quietly. “It’s hard, not knowing much of anything. They tell you everything you should expect at the institute over and over again, then you get in it and everything is different. Nothing is like it should be. Nothing like they said. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“I know. You were prepared for one life and got an entirely different one. Lucky for you, though, you’re surrounded by very understanding people who are more than happy to help you. I know this is so far from ideal for you, but I think you’re doing a fantastic job with what you were handed.” 

You stare at your hands, thinking over her words. John’s called you a good omega before. He’s called you that a few times. He thinks you’re doing a good job, despite the fact you feel like none of your skills are useful here. Despite the fact you feel like you haven’t been trying. 

You think over everything they’ve done for you, how hard they’ve tried to help make you as comfortable as possible. She’s right. They’re all so understanding and you know they like you. You can see it in their reactions to you, you can smell it on them. You know Gaz won’t let anything happen to you, even if something goes wrong. 

They have yet to prove themselves untrustworthy, for the most part. 

Maybe you really don’t have anything to worry about. 

“Come on.” Ghost says, standing in your doorway. You almost don't recognize him in a beanie and surgical mask instead of his usual balaclava. “Get shoes on, and let’s go.” 

“Go where?” You ask, sitting up on your bed. 

“Shopping.” He says, before turning on his heel. 

You frown, but do as he says, slipping on comfortable shoes and grabbing your phone. You head down the hall towards the door, a familiar car parked outside. Price and Ghost are waiting next to the car, both dressed in civilian clothes. You approach them hesitantly, suddenly feeling intimidated in the presence of the two alphas. You know you have nothing to worry about, but this is the first time you'll be alone with both of them. 

Ghost steps up to you, a bottle in his hand. You barely have time to hold your breath before he sprays you down with scent blocker, the harsh chemicals burning your nose as they settle on your skin and cut off your scent. It's necessary, even with two alphas around you. 

“Ready?” John asks, letting his eyes scan over your form for a second. He could probably pick up on your tension and uneasy energy from a mile away. 

“Can...Can I ask why?” You ask as John opens the back door for you. 

“Well, we can't have you starving to death on us, can we?” John smiles. “And we need to get a few things for your heat.”

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at him. 

“Hop in. Hopefully we can get the shopping done before dinner.” John says. 

Before you get hungry again. 

You climb in the backseat, John closing the door before getting in the driver's side. Ghost is already in the passenger seat, buckled in and ready. 

You sit and watch the landscape pass by, the car quiet except for the radio. The contrast between the two betas and the two alphas is almost as distinct as night and day. Johnny and Gaz had talked almost nonstop the entire drive to and back from town. Ghost and Price seem content in their silence, Ghost watching the landscape pass just like you. 

It speaks volumes of their trust and ease with each other. 

The farmlands turn to city and you find yourself back at Asda again. You hold John's hand as you walk, Ghost taking your other side, sandwiching you between them. People stare as you pass, their eyes on Ghost, but he doesn't even seem to notice. 

You stick close to John as you walk through the store, picking up items you'll need for your heat, as well as some other things. Ghost follows like a shadow, people giving you a wide berth when they spot him. You're almost grateful for it. You swear some of them can tell you're about to start your heat, their eyes burning into you as they pass. 

You can feel the beginnings of hunger starting to creep in as you walk down the bed liner aisle. You know if you weren't starting to get hungry, you would have been close to combusting from the knowledge of why this aisle was necessary. 

You let out a sigh, leaning your head against John's arm as he crosses the bed liner off the list. 

“What?” He asks, amusement in his voice. 

“You know what I miss?” You say, wrapping your arms around one of his. “Good authentic Mexican food.” 

The corner of John's lips lift in a smile. “Yeah? You getting hungry again?” 

You nod, a subtle whine to your tone. “Yeah.”

John turns to look at Ghost, the two alphas having a seconds long silent conversation before Ghost heads off, disappearing from the aisle. 

“Where's he going?” You ask. 

“Getting a head start on the other supplies for your heat.” John says. “Just a couple more things, then your snacks and we'll be done and we'll get some dinner.” 

You stop as you turn the corner around the end of the aisle, your eyes spotting a giant teddy bear. It looks soft and squishy, your pre-heat addled brain already picturing the perfect spot for it in your nest. 

“You want it?” John asks, looking between you and the bear. 

You snap back into reality for a moment, glancing up at the price. You nearly die on the spot, shaking your head. “I-I don't...”

John turns you to face him, speaking firmly. “Do you want it?”

You stare up into his eyes, nodding slowly. 

His gaze softens just a bit, a smile tugging at his lips. “Then grab it.” 

You're moving before you can even have a second thought, wrapping your arms around it and lifting it off the shelf. It's just as soft as you thought it would be, nearly as big as you are too. You can imagine cuddling it in your nest, napping contently, surrounded in soft plushness. 

“C'mon pup.” John says, patting your back gently. You're purring, you realize suddenly, the sound leaving you entirely unconsciously. “Let's get you some snacks then we'll get dinner.”

You carry the bear, following John to the grocery section of the store. He takes you to the snack aisle and you pass the bear off to him, grabbing anything and everything that looks good, loading up the cart. You grab a few things from the American section as well, snacks you didn't think you'd miss, but right now they sound like manna straight from heaven. 

“Simon's done with his part.” John says, glancing at his phone. “We'll meet back at the car.” 

You take the bear back once you're done filling the cart with snacks, heading towards the checkout. You're hesitant to let the bear go long enough to be scanned before you're holding it again, purring quietly and contently. 

John keeps his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot towards the car. There's already bags in the trunk from Ghost, the alpha already in the passenger seat. They must have both been carrying keys to the car. Safety precautions. Things most people wouldn't even think about. 

“Thank you.” You say as John fills the trunk with the rest of the bags. “You didn't have to do this.”

“Yes we did.” John says, looking down at you. “Not going let you starve like that if we can help it.”

“It's still strange to me, getting taken care of.” You say, squeezing the bear. “Still makes me feel a bit like a sugar baby.”

John chuckles. “Don't worry, I won't make you call me daddy.” He leans in close to your ear. “Unless you want to.” 

Your face burns hot, your entire body igniting with heat at his words. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass, directing you to the door of the car before taking the cart back to the store. 

Your face is still burning as you attempt to climb into the car with your bear, giving up and stuffing it in first. 

“What the hell is that?” Ghosts asks, turning to look at you.

“My new bear.” You respond, arranging the bear so its sitting in the seat beside you. 

“Christ.” He breathes, and you can practically hear the eye roll as you buckle the bear in. 

You buckle yourself in as John climbs in the driver's seat.

“All set?” He asks, turning to look at you. 

You nod, smiling happily despite the hunger eating away at you. 

“Let's get some dinner, then we'll head back to base.” John says, turning on the car. “Can't have our omega starving on us, can we?” 

Ghost snorts. “Best feed her before she decides we look appetizing.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “You'd be too gamey, Ghost.” You say, eyeing him before turning your gaze to the seat in front of you. “John, though...” You lick your lips. “I already know you taste good.”

John lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles with the edge of a pleased growl. “Easy, kitten.”

Ghost lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “Spare me. Now there's two of ‘em.” 

John chuckles again, squeezing Ghost's shoulder. “Little did you know, Simon.” 

Ghost turns to look at John. “Is it too late to get a refund?” 

You stifle a giggle as John smiles. “You'll have to ask Laswell.”  

Ghost sighs, turning to look out the window. “No hope for it, then.” 

“Hey, at least I'm cute!” You grin. “Don't tell Johnny I said that.” 

You practically beam with pride as you see Ghost's shoulders shake with his laughter. Maybe you can get through to him more than you think you can. 

Maybe, just maybe, you can get him to like you. 

The knock comes at your door unexpectedly. It's late, and you had just begun to feel the pangs of hunger once more. You hate it, but you know it's necessary considering you'll have to go roughly a week getting in nothing but what nutrient bars can offer while exerting insane amounts of energy. Your body needs to store the calories now so that you don't die during your heat. 

You're surprised to see Ghost on the other side of the door, back in his balaclava. His shoulders are squared, but you can't scent any anger or hostility on him. 

He almost seems...nervous. 

“Hungry?” He asks, staring down at you. 

“Always.” You answer almost instinctively, staring up into his deep brown eyes. 

He motions for you to follow with his head. “C'mon.” 

You frown a little, but you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. You follow him towards the rec room, staring at his broad back. His shoulders are still squared, hands in his pockets. 

The rec room is set up again not unlike it was for your date with John. The card table is out and there's foil covered dishes on it, along with a couple plates. Your brows raise in surprise as you take it all in. 

“I made you something.” Ghost says, moving over to the table, removing the foil from one of the dishes. 

You move closer, blinking in surprise. “You made...enchiladas?” 

He nods. “As close as I could get with what I could find on short notice. There's rice and beans, too. And salsa.” 

Tears blur your vision as you stare down at the food on the table. It smells delicious and that's not just your ravenous pre-heat hunger talking. “You...did this for me?”

“Well, I had help,” He says, looking past you. 

You turn, Soap and Gaz standing at the windows that frame the door to the rec room. They smile and wave at you as you turn to look at them. A quiet laugh leaves your mouth as you smile at them. 

“Help yourself.” Ghost says as you turn back to the table. “There's plenty.”

You serve yourself a plate, nearly melting off the chair as you take the first bite. It takes you all the way back home, the good years when your father was stationed in Texas. 

“Taste okay?” Ghost asks, watching you. “I know it's not authentic, but I did a lot of research.”

“It's amazing, Ghost. Really.” You say. “Tastes just like the ones my mom would make.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.”

He shrugs, looking almost bashful. “It's the least I could do. I know how big of a deal heats are to omegas and how nervous you've been. Thought you could use a little comfort.” 

You smile softly. “That means a lot.” You can't help but giggle softly. “I knew you liked me deep down.”

He gives you a look, making you giggle even more. “Don't push it.” 

NEXT ->

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[ms-demeanor]

Why reblog machine-generated art?

When I was ten years old I took a photography class where we developed black and white photos by projecting light on papers bathed in chemicals. If we wanted to change something in the image, we had to go through a gradual, arduous process called dodging and burning.

When I was fifteen years old I used photoshop for the first time, and I remember clicking on the clone tool or the blur tool and feeling like I was cheating.

When I was twenty eight I got my first smartphone. The phone could edit photos. A few taps with my thumb were enough to apply filters and change contrast and even spot correct. I was holding in my hand something more powerful than the huge light machines I'd first used to edit images.

When I was thirty six, just a few weeks ago, I took a photo class that used Lightroom Classic and again, it felt like cheating. It made me really understand how much the color profiles of popular web images I'd been seeing for years had been pumped and tweaked and layered with local edits to make something that, to my eyes, didn't much resemble photography. To me, photography is light on paper. It's what you capture in the lens. It's not automatic skin smoothing and a local filter to boost the sky. This reminded me a lot more of the photomanipulations my friend used to make on deviantart; layered things with unnatural colors that put wings on buildings or turned an eye into a swimming pool. It didn't remake the images to that extent, obviously, but it tipped into the uncanny valley. More real than real, more saturated more sharp and more present than the actual world my lens saw. And that was before I found the AI assisted filters and the tool that would identify the whole sky for you, picking pieces of it out from between leaves.

You know, it's funny, when people talk about artists who might lose their jobs to AI they don't talk about the people who have already had to move on from their photo editing work because of technology. You used to be able to get paid for basic photo manipulation, you know? If you were quick with a lasso or skilled with masks you could get a pretty decent chunk of change by pulling subjects out of backgrounds for family holiday cards or isolating the pies on the menu for a mom and pop. Not a lot, but enough to help. But, of course, you can just do that on your phone now. There's no need to pay a human for it, even if they might do a better job or be more considerate toward the aesthetic of an image.

And they certainly don't talk about all the development labs that went away, or the way that you could have trained to be a studio photographer if you wanted to take good photos of your family to hang on the walls and that digital photography allowed in a parade of amateurs who can make dozens of iterations of the same bad photo until they hit on a good one by sheer volume and luck; if you want to be a good photographer everyone can do that why didn't you train for it and spend a long time taking photos on film and being okay with bad photography don't you know that digital photography drove thousands of people out of their jobs.

My dad told me that he plays with AI the other day. He hosts a movie podcast and he puts up thumbnails for the downloads. In the past, he'd just take a screengrab from the film. Now he tells the Bing AI to make him little vignettes. A cowboy running away from a rhino, a dragon arm-wrestling a teddy bear. That kind of thing. Usually based on a joke that was made on the show, or about the subject of the film and an interest of the guest.

People talk about "well AI art doesn't allow people to create things, people were already able to create things, if they wanted to create things they should learn to create things." Not everyone wants to make good art that's creative. Even fewer people want to put the effort into making bad art for something that they aren't passionate about. Some people want filler to go on the cover of their youtube video. My dad isn't going to learn to draw, and as the person who he used to ask to photoshop him as Ant-Man because he certainly couldn't pay anyone for that kind of thing, I think this is a great use case for AI art. This senior citizen isn't going to start cartooning and at two recordings a week with a one-day editing turnaround he doesn't even really have the time for something like a Fiverr commission. This is a great use of AI art, actually.

I also know an artist who is going Hog Fucking Wild creating AI art of their blorbos. They're genuinely an incredibly talented artist who happens to want to see their niche interest represented visually without having to draw it all themself. They're posting the funny and good results to a small circle of mutuals on socials with clear information about the source of the images; they aren't trying to sell any of the images, they're basically using them as inserts for custom memes. Who is harmed by this person saying "i would like to see my blorbo lasciviously eating an ice cream cone in the is this a pigeon meme"?

The way I use machine-generated art, as an artist, is to proof things. Can I get an explosion to look like this. What would a wall of dead computer monitors look like. Would a ballerina leaping over the grand canyon look cool? Sometimes I use AI art to generate copyright free objects that I can snip for a collage. A lot of the time I use it to generate ideas. I start naming random things and seeing what it shows me and I start getting inspired. I can ask CrAIon for pose reference, I can ask it to show me the interior of spaces from a specific angle.

I profoundly dislike the antipathy that tumblr has for AI art. I understand if people don't want their art used in training pools. I understand if people don't want AI trained on their art to mimic their style. You should absolutely use those tools that poison datasets if you don't want your art included in AI training. I think that's an incredibly appropriate action to take as an artist who doesn't want AI learning from your work.

However I'm pretty fucking aggressively opposed to copyright and most of the "solid" arguments against AI art come down to "the AIs viewed and learned from people's copyrighted artwork and therefore AI is theft rather than fair use" and that's a losing argument for me. In. Like. A lot of ways. Primarily because it is saying that not only is copying someone's art theft, it is saying that looking at and learning from someone's art can be defined as theft rather than fair use.

Also because it's just patently untrue.

But that doesn't really answer your question. Why reblog machine-generated art? Because I liked that piece of art.

It was made by a machine that had looked at billions of images - some copyrighted, some not, some new, some old, some interesting, many boring - and guided by a human and I liked it. It was pretty. It communicated something to me. I looked at an image a machine made - an artificial picture, a total construct, something with no intrinsic meaning - and I felt a sense of quiet and loss and nostalgia. I looked at a collection of automatically arranged pixels and tasted salt and smelled the humidity in the air.

I liked it.

I don't think that all AI art is ugly. I don't think that AI art is all soulless (i actually think that 'having soul' is a bizarre descriptor for art and that lacking soul is an equally bizarre criticism). I don't think that AI art is bad for artists. I think the problem that people have with AI art is capitalism and I don't think that's a problem that can really be laid at the feet of people curating an aesthetic AI art blog on tumblr.

Machine learning isn't the fucking problem the problem is massive corporations have been trying hard not to pay artists for as long as massive corporations have existed (isn't that a b-plot in the shape of water? the neighbor who draws ads gets pushed out of his job by product photography? did you know that as recently as ten years ago NewEgg had in-house photographers who would take pictures of the products so users wouldn't have to rely on the manufacturer photos? I want you to guess what killed that job and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't AI)

Am I putting a human out of a job because I reblogged an AI-generated "photo" of curtains waving in the pale green waters of an imaginary beach? Who would have taken this photo of a place that doesn't exist? Who would have painted this hypersurrealistic image? What meaning would it have had if they had painted it or would it have just been for the aesthetic? Would someone have paid for it or would it be like so many of the things that artists on this site have spent dozens of hours on only to get no attention or value for their work?

My worst ratio of hours to notes is an 8-page hand-drawn detailed ink comic about getting assaulted at a concert and the complicated feelings that evoked that took me weeks of daily drawing after work with something like 54 notes after 8 years; should I be offended if something generated from a prompt has more notes than me? What does that actually get the blogger? Clout? I believe someone said that popularity on tumblr gets you one thing and that is yelled at.

What do you get out of this? Are you helping artists right now? You're helping me, and I'm an artist. I've wanted to unload this opinion for a while because I'm sick of the argument that all Real Artists think AI is bullshit. I'm a Real Artist. I've been paid for Real Art. I've been commissioned as an artist.

And I find a hell of a lot of AI art a lot more interesting than I find human-generated corporate art or Thomas Kincaid (but then, I repeat myself).

There are plenty of people who don't like AI art and don't want to interact with it. I am not one of those people. I thought the gay sex cats were funny and looked good and that shitposting is the ideal use of a machine image generation: to make uncopyrightable images to laugh at.

I think that tumblr has decided to take a principled stand against something that most people making the argument don't understand. I think tumblr's loathing for AI has, generally speaking, thrown weight behind a bunch of ideas that I think are going to be incredibly harmful *to artists specifically* in the long run.

Anyway. If you hate AI art and you don't want to interact with people who interact with it, block me.