#betas are the navigators- they get the pack where they need/want to go and help keep the pack together
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'23 A R C H I V E
—or recs of fics I’ve read and been reading.
[back to NAVIGATION]
♡ : works im following closely
☆ : my ultimate favorites (mostly finished)
① : oneshots
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[OT7]
Safe and Sound ♡
hybrid!bts x reader
You have worked at a hybrid rehab and adoption center for years, enjoying being able to help people others only see as their animal side. You thought you might end up taking in one or two, what you didn’t expect however, was to take in 7.
Combined Beings ☆☆
mafia!ceo!bts x chubby!reader
You are bullied on a constant because korea’s beauty standards do not fit girls on the heavier side. the bullying gets worse once a ceo is attracted to you and he mentions you to the other 6.
Little Love
human seokjin! x human!oc x hybrid!ot6
Seokjin and Ayana are an engaged couple who are completely in love with each other. Then one day they stumbled upon two hybrids in need. They decided to help them, not knowing there were four others waiting for their mates to come back.
Snow Angel ♡
alphas!bts x omega!reader
After Yoongi and Jimin find a distressed omega in the mall they take her home in an attempt to settle her. Quickly getting attached, the whole all-alpha pack starts to wish to keep the girl around, going completely soft for her.
Emerald Gem
hybrid!bts x reader
Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one to talk to but the cows and pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stumble upon your deserted farm, everything changes.
Stay Alive ♡
myth creatures!bts x reader
When you started working at a pharmaceutical company, you didn’t realize where it was your life was heading. After getting a patient mix up, you meet seven men who would didn’t seem to want any other nurse that wasn’t you. When you start to know them, you notice things that made you question if they were really human. No matter what excuse they would give though, you would always go home with a heavy heart. The day the truth is revealed to you, things take a turn for the worst.
(Un)natural Instincts
ot7 x ceo!reader
You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Masked Miracles ♡
hybrid!bts x reader
It wasn't supposed to happen this way. A quick in and out. Infiltrate and bring down a hybrid trafficking ring. Saving lives while we're at it. But things hardly ever go to plan. And being locked in with seven hybrids that meant more to me than victims forced into a life they didn't deserve was definitely not according to the plan.
A Cute Blind Soul
ot7 x blind!oc | soulmate au
Selia Jones is blind since birth. After her parents were taken away, she has to live a completely different life and to make it worse, the universe had given her soulmates.
About Love ♡
hybrid!bts x writer!reader
Becoming a best selling thriller author? Part of the plan. Living in the city and isolating yourself from everyone? Part of the plan. Inheriting your late uncles home in the woods, his sassy assistant and fortune after he died mysteriously? Not part of the plan. Oh, and he failed to mention the 7 ‘surprises’ he left you as well. And come to think of it… was his death an accident? Or is your imagination going wild again?
Prologue | CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3
The Way Of a Criminal
gangster!bts x reader | mafia au
Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.
Tongue Tied ♡
wolf hybrid!bts x dog hybrid!reader
In which you're not supposed to be the solution for all of the problems- but maybe you're just that; the missing piece.
Lone Wolf
bts x reader | abo au
In a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.
Boyfriend For Hire ☆
bts x reader
Unsatisfied with your life was an understatement. Being under the thumb of your father can have that effect. He wanted someone capable of running the company, but you wanted to pursue your passion. Countless unwanted blind dates and the threat of losing your freedom drives you to seek help from a group of individuals you'd least expected.
The Old Guard
demon!bts x witch!reader | soulmates au
You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.
Let The Light In ♡
hybrid!bts x author!reader
In which you’re a famous children’s book writer, one evening after coming home from a diner with your parents you find seven unknown hybrids making themselves comfortable in your living room, what do you do now?
Protectors ①
mafia!bts x reader
Your boyfriends loved you very much. that being said, they promised to always be there to shield you in frightening situations - to be your protector, for the rest of your lifetime.
Little Dove ①
mafia!bts x reader
You were gentle, innocent, and pure. In simple words, the exact opposite of the cold-hearted and callous mafia members who fell for you in such a cliché manner.
Redamancy ♡
hybrid!bts x oc
When a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.
The Little Things ①
idol!bts x reader
You've never been more glad to have seven men by your side to help with your recovery. Even when times get tough you know they have your back.
The Plot Twist ♡
idol!bts x reader | soulmates au
Once upon a time you would have jumped at the chance to live the idol girlfriend life. The cameras, the action, the whirlwind romance. But what was once a dream has now become your worst nightmare, and you fully intend to fight the universe as it repeatedly conspires to set you up with your seven perfectly good soulmates from Bangtan Sonyeondan.In which we punt Y/N into all the fanfiction tropes and you do your feral best to subvert the love story.Because nani the fuck, you are The Plot Twist.
Hoodies ①
idol!bts x celeb!reader
When the boys are doing a v live, you know to keep away from the camera and stay quiet. and you never failed to do so before. so why is it that the time they all do a v live together, you accidentally leave your custom hoodie on the bed behind them?
Snowball Princess
bts x hybrid!reader
In which you've evolved from being a mere PR-stunt to becoming the most important thing in the lives of seven idols and millions of fans alike.
Like Crazy ♡
bts x reader
The story of seven loves across eight lives.
Mi Casa
bts x alpha!reader | omegaverse au
Sometimes you find your home, sometimes your home finds you.
The Fate of Hybrids ♡
hybrid!bts x reader
Fruits, Daisies, and a Sprinkle of Love ♡
bts x reader | soulmates au
A soul bond's archives is a shared space between soulmates, a safe space that allows the fated ones to share memories between themselves, a method commonly used to find each other without having to wait endlessly for luck to play its part.
But when your own archives get tainted with pain due to bullies with too much time on their hands…
Needless to say that despite you not knowing if you have soulmates, you begin to believe that maybe it's a good thing if you don't have any.
Trouvaille
hybrid!bts x reader
In a world where hybrids are both the hottest commodity and largely exploited, a recent shortage of hybrids nationwide due to the wealthy adopting for sport hunting dominates the news headlines. More than ever, stray hybrids are whisked off the streets and taken into shelters to meet the demand. Mistreated, neglected, forgotten – in a notoriously disreputable hybrid shelter in a pocket of downtown Boston, seven “aggressive” hybrids await their inevitable fate of being sold for sport.After years of trying to distance herself from her mystical past and upbringing, Y/N finds herself quitting her emotionally-draining job and is forced to face past mistakes. While accompanying her friends looking to adopt a child hybrid into their newly-formed family, Y/N inadvertently finds herself face-to-face with seven hybrids doomed to die. In a spur of the moment epiphany, Y/N decides to change the course of fate for the better; though bringing seven aggressive hybrids into her life and the darkening spiritual energy of her old home is trickier to navigate than she originally thought.
Caramel
dom!bts x sub!reader
You weren’t good at taking care of yourself. You knew it, everyone knows it. Too nervous, anxious, getting overwhelmed way too quickly…It was easy hiding it from the public eye, but they could see right through you. And they were decided on being your steadying hands.
The Love That You Want
idol!bts x death eater!reader | harry potter au
Your worst kept secret? You come from a long line of pureblood elitists.
Outside of the Fox
bts x reader
Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.
Doughnuts and Shell Casings ♡
mafia!bts x reader | soulmates au
You finally gather the courage to leave your routine and do something different. your expectations are blown out of the water as you meet your soulmates in a less-than-expected way.
Nymphet Garden ♡
fans!bts x idol!reader
He was just a fanboy, they got dragged into it, and so blooms your love story.
Do Not Tumble Dry ①
bts x reader | super fluff content
A spa day for the Bangtan pets.
Baby (you complete us) ♡
idol!bts x disabled MC | soulmates au
Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.
Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.
Dance of Time
vampire!bts x human reincarnated!reader
You were finally back in the hometown you left right after graduation, researching the mysterious manor that laid outside of the town limits. Your family was acting weird, and the owner of the manor seemed to know more about you than he should. Everything changed when you entered the manor, and you weren’t sure your dance with time was going to last very long.
Death Valley
bts x reader
A summer internship at a famous record label turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize.
Guys that I'd kind of be into
idol!bts x broadway actress!reader
Being on broadway has always been your dream, and now that you’ve achieved just that as christine in “be more chill,” you’ve found it to be a lot harder than your younger self had expected. like, for example, the fact that dating might as well be out of the question. you definitely did not leave college to get distracted from your work... it kind of sucks that seven k-pop idols that you may or may not really like came to see your show and took a liking to you.
A Deal's a Deal
idol!bts x demon!reader
Before BTS became BTS in an act of desperation Jungkook makes a deal with you, a demon. After Namjoon finds out you’re the reason behind a significant number of unfortunate events they’ve gone through over the years he decides to take back their future by binding you under their control until they can figure out how to save Jungkook’s soul. Regardless, you’re going to feed off of their insecurities, lust, and souls to return your powers to you so you can make them all pay.
Wait, Little Rabbit!
bts x bunny hybrid!reader
You, a meek little bunny hybrid, find family amongst six predator hybrids and their lovely human caretaker.
Until Death ①
demon!bts x human!reader
Until death do you part, you are theirs and they are yours.
Wolves are (NOT) Scary
werewolf!bts x reader
All Y/N wants to do is find her creativity and motivation but she finds 7 werewolves instead.
Pastel Snowflake Kisses ①
bts x reader
They had never made much of a fuss about christmas...until you came into the picture.
Yearning
hybrid!bts x reader
Out of Love ♡
bts x f!reader
Everything was perfect, or at least you thought it was. What happens when you break up with your 7 boyfriends and have to deal with the aftermath of it all?
To Love Min Yoongi
idol!ot7 x witch!reader | yoongi focus x reader
You were a villainess destined to be with seven stars. Your cliche Reincarnation AU.
Can't Wait to See You Again ♡
idol!fan!bts x youtuber!reader
The one where Jungkook develops a huge crush on a Youtuber he found after falling into the rabbit hole of his recommended videos. Unbeknownst to him, you were also recommended to his hyungs.
[KSJ]
The A-Listers
actor!jin x famous!reader
Meet Y/N and Jin, two of Hollywood's hottest celebrities and couple — or are they? Media and fans have been wanting to hear a confirmation for years now. But you two are always good at confusing everyone. Watch as everyone else play this guessing game of what's the relationship between Y/N and Jin.
[MYG]
What yoongi wants, yoongi gets ①
idol!yoongi x reader
The one where the cat is actually yours, but yoongi somehow worms his way into the family.
[JHS]
[KNJ]
[PJM]
Filtering Light ♡
human!jimin x bunny-hybrid!reader x human!jungkook
The reader is a bunny hybrid with a past that has left her traumatized and struggling to heal. some things can be helped with therapy, but some things can only be fixed through realizing you're not all of the things that hurt you—you are, in fact, just loved.
[KTH]
[JJK]
Hold On ①
jungkook x reader | established relationship
A night where jungkook just wants to give, give and give and he wants you to realize that you can take it all.
At Your Service ☆
escort!jeongguk x ceo!reader | strangers-to-lovers au
Filtering Light
human!jungkook x bunny-hybrid!reader x human!jimin
The reader is a bunny hybrid with a past that has left her traumatized and struggling to heal. some things can be helped with therapy, but some things can only be fixed through realizing you're not all of the things that hurt you—you are, in fact, just loved.
In Which | collection 1 | collection 2 ♡
idol!jungkook x reader | drabble collection
Domestic Daydreams ①
influencer!jk x f. reader
A window into the life of jeon jungkook
Fish-wife or No-wife ①
idol!jk x f.reader
Did Jungkook have a wife? The rumor mill had been churning for years, divided on this one topic. He was a successful worldwide pop star who was always seen with a different lady on his arm, as he flitted from country to country enjoying his prolific career. The reason for the lingering suspicion was a cryptic social media post showing a picture of 2 kids who shared the same exact eyes and smile as him. So in fact, if he truly did have a wife, who was she? And why had the public never seen her? Perhaps she didn't wish to be seen.
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['21 ARCHIVE] | ['22 ARCHIVE] | ['24 ARCHIVE]
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It's their Big Night, but we can have fun too.
Happy New Years Eve everyone!!! This fic is apart of the Redacted Winter Gift Exchange ran by the amazing and lovely @the-sugar-crash!! Thank you so much for hosting this event!! And a big thank you to @taelonsamada for helping me through writer's block, @lostinanothersmemories for letting me use their headcanon of Darlin's nickname being 'fluffy' and to @sri-rachaa for beta reading this for me!!!
@starlight925, I hope you enjoy your fic!!! It's always fun to revisit my favourite non-canon couple!!!
CW: This is an David/Darlin' story, No Angel or Sam AU, surprisingly no angst considering who is being written ;-;
--
“Hey Tank! We wanted to ask if you could-”
“If this is about chaperoning the pup’s prom, then no. Do you want me to say it french? Trouver quelqu'un d'autre parce que non, je ne veux pas y aller.”
Asher knew that this task would be one of the hardest of his life. He's handled inter-pack politics, an onslaught of the most vicious empowered folk, and he has been blessed with the patience to navigate David’s temper. But holy hell, nothing could top this.
“I know this isn’t your thing, but pleaseeeeee! It would mean so much to the pups that their favourite tank wolf is thereeee!” He wore the best puppy eyes he can muster, a look that has made the most strong-willed people give into all of his desires. Or to get Gabe to sneak him another sweet treat without his parents realizing.
There was only one person with even more deadly puppy eyes than him, and they were standing in front of him.
Tank scoffed in disbelief. “If you think some sorry ass puppy eyes is gonna change my mind, then you better start begging.”
For a split moment, Asher genuinely considered begging them to go. It had been tradition for the older wolves to attend the pup’s prom, just to make sure no shenanigans happened that night. And the shenanigans that do occur only do so after every wolf make sure the pups will be okay.
It was part of the reason why Asher wants them there so badly. Unfortunately, Tank had plenty of experience both doing and witnessing dumb teenagers doing dumb teenager things. Having them there would make sure none of the pups slip through the gaps of the older wolves’ piercing sight. Like hell they’d let a pup pass through without notice the same way they did.
He didn’t want to say that reason though, it makes him sound like he’s using their bad experiences to his advantage, and that is the last thing he wants. He wants them there because they’re them and they’re a wonderful presence to be around.
A lightbulb went off. Asher remembered that there was someone as desperate, if not more, then himself to have Tank be a chaperone.
“David’s gonna be there.”
Unnoticed by human ears, Tank’s breath hitched and their heart rate sped up for a quick second. It was just that, a quick second.
But for the poor darling Tank, Asher did not have human ears and a second in their change state was all he needed. ‘Hehe, got you right where I want you,’ he thought mischievously.
“I sure as fuck hope David is going ‘cus how the fuck are you gonna get anyone to go if the big dawg ain’t going?”
Asher's face beamed in a wicked grin. They were deflecting, and when Tank deflects, it means you’ve struck some nerve in them. There was a truth that they were desperately trying to conceal, and that was their everlasting and ever burning feelings for a certain Alpha.
Lucky for them, that certain Alpha was holding onto hope that they had felt the same.
And as Beta, it was duty to bring these two stubborn dumbasses together. After everything they’ve been through, they deserve to feel true and unbound joy with each other. All he had to do was convince the both of them to tell each other the truth.
Seems easy enough?
“Well, David said that he wants you there too! You’re pack and therefore, you need to be a part of pack traditions!” He flashed his trademark easy going smile and continued, “and besides, heard that David’s going all out for this event too.”
They raised their eyebrows. “Our David? Going all out for something that isn’t company related? You’re gonna have to tell me more buddy.”
‘Fuck yes! They’re curious and now they won’t stop until they find out! That’s another point for best Beta Asher!’
He lowered his voice as if he was revealing his own greatest secret. “David’s pulling out the suit, you know? The black one with the gold designs?” When Tank realized what Asher was talking about, their eyes widened by a fraction and they took a sharp intake of air.
The suit in question was one that David wore at an industry dinner that was mandatory for everyone, including the pack’s beloved wayward wolf. He had worn a classic black suit that had gorgeous golden embroidery that adorned one half of the blazer. The whole outfit had shown off David’s well toned body. He exuded power and commanded attention from everyone in the room, and that included Tank’s.
Asher had later learned from his mate that after the dinner when they, Tank and Stealth had met up for some after party fun, Tank had confessed in a drunken stupor how much they adored David’s outfit. How they were ready to rip out the eyes of everyone in that room so they could keep that sight to themselves.
If the outfit had that much of an effect on them, who’s to say it wouldn’t have that same effect again? And there is nothing that makes a person want to confess more than thick sexual tension choking them.
“I’ll…” They let out a sigh knowing they fell hook, line and sinker for Asher’s trap. “I’ll go, you bastard. But whatever you’re planning? It ain’t gonna work. There is no way in hell that I’m gonna let it.”
“Do you even know the plan?”
“No, but you’re fucking planning something and that’s enough to keep me on edge.”
‘Typical Tank to think that there are nefarious plots being plotted against them.’ Sure their instincts were right that he was planning something, but that didn’t negate the fact that he wished they didn’t have to be this hypervigilant. Part of him hoped David could ease the desperate grip Tank has on control of their life.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll text you details later!” He ran off, ready to tell David the good news.
‘Now I just gotta convince him to wear that black suit without giving Tank away.’
--
“Oh hell fucking nah, you ain’t wearing that outfit to prom.”
“I’m with Milo on this, what the hell are you doing Tank?”
Despite many preconceived notions about them, they truly cared about how they appeared.
Something, something, if they were going to die, they want to die pretty.
It hurt Tank to wear such a boring outfit, but between not having the most… appropriate outfit for a high school prom and how they absolutely do not want to steal the show with their scars, they have relegated themselves to wearing a terrible outfit. Said outfit was a pair of black jeans, a hoodie and some nice shoes. It was nice, basic but nice.
Milo and Sweetheart were anything but basic.
He ripped the outfit from their hands and threw it onto their bed. “Tank, I know you can do better than that!” He walked over to their closet and rummaged through a number of outfits. He pulled out a red cropped and backless shirt. “See? This outfit is way better than the shit hoodie.”
“First off,” they started off while taking the shirt in Milo’s hand. “Don’t diss my hoodie. Secondly, who in the fuck would wear a shirt like this to prom?” They gestured to redshirt in their hand. “I’d get dress-coded before I make it to the hall and I’m not even a student!”
Sweetheart walked over to their closet and took a peak in. “What if you wore a leather jacket on top of that? That should keep it ‘appropriate’.” The stealth grabbed the first jacket they saw.
The jacket was a black leather one, slightly larger than the ones they own. It had laid untouched in their closet for a long time, years even. They don’t know why, but they were convinced that the jacket wasn’t theirs. Which is stupid, it had a similar style to their other black jackets. And sure, it was a bit oversized, but Tank was never opposed to a looser fit.
So where the hell did that jacket come from? And who did it belong to?
Milo snickered and said, “oh I know why Tank don’t wanna dress up.” He strained his arm so he could wrap it around Tank’s shoulders. “They don’t want David to see them all dolled up. Gotta keep that side of ‘em locked up!”
They pushed Milo’s arm off them with the sound of Sweetheart’s laugh echoing in the background. They tried to stutter out an answer, but each word that left Tank further incriminated them.
Sweetheart patted them on the back. “It’s ok you know, having a crush on your Alpha.” They picked up the red shirt and black leather jacket off the ground. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be the hottest wolf in Dahlia. Now go show everyone why you’re the pack’s heartthrob.”
The wolf knew when the stealth says everyone, they specifically mean David.
Tank took the outfit from Sweetheart and kicked the other two out of their room.
They were the Tank wolf of the Shaw Pack, they were one hot ass wolf and like hell they’ll let anyone intimidate them.
But their feelings for David Shaw might be the one thing that could scare them.
–
“They’re late.”
“It’s only been half an hour, they’ll be here.”
This is ridiculous. Here he was standing in the middle of the banquet hall, watching a bunch of sweaty and horny teenagers, in his fanciest outfit and the person he wanted to see hadn’t showed up. What was the point of putting on this jacket if Tank wasn’t going to show up?
Asher noticed the all too familiar impatient look on his Alpha’s face. “Look, they’re coming with Milo and his mate, and you know how they like to take their sweet time.” He put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “They’ll come.”
Asher’s reassurances doesn’t make up for the fact that the worst case scenarios are flooding David’s brain. Had they decided that the pack tradition wasn’t worth it? That he wasn’t worth it? Or maybe something had happened to them on the road. A car crash? Quinn?
He needed Tank to walk in this hall or so help him, he will shift and tear the city to the ground to find them and-
Asher's face lit up at the sight of Milo, his mate and Tank walking into the ball. “Well look who decided to show up! Took them long enough.”
David’s face relaxed seeing his wayward pack member face under the neon lights. Their eyes scanned the room, looking for suspicious people and exits. It’s a habit he’s aware of, but one he wishes they’d never develop. Wasn’t like he could blame them, the life Tank lived forced them to be hyper aware of every single little detail. It was their survival instinct, their way of protecting themselves.
Though he wishes that he can be their protection. That one day, Tank will never have to take a hit again because he’ll be there.
Their wandering eyes caught his stationary ones. Once Tank realized it was David eyeing them from across the room, their face relaxed and a small smile appeared. A smile that was made more beautiful by the bright lights surrounding them. Though nothing outshined them. In David’s mind, nothing could ever outshine Tank.
The newly arrived trio pushed past the awkward teenagers on the dancefloor. A few of the pack pups stopped the older wolves and stealth to thank them for chaperoning. The trio finally made their way to the Alpha and Beta, ready to receive their assignments.
“Thank you all for volunteering your time, though it would be appreciated if you came on time.” What? He could be a little salty about them taking forever and giving him a heart attack.
Milo scoffed at David’s comment, while Sweetheart and Tank snickered. “David, you can’t blame us for taking this long! It takes time to look good!” He pushed Tank in front of David. “Especially this one! Fucker took forever, but ain’t it worth it?”
David was inclined to agree that their delayed appearance had been worth it.
Tank looked really fucking good. Maybe too good for his heart to take.
And… he could be wrong, he often is, but… were they wearing his jacket? The one he lost a few years back? He looked closer and saw a familiar patch on the jacket… And the familiar scent lingering on it, mixing it with theirs… Oh yeah, it’s definitely his.
He pushed down the shiver of pride and assigned placements for the latecomers. Milo and Sweetheart were stationed by the snack table, making sure no one even thinks about lacing the food or spiking the drinks with anything. He also hoped that the constant influx of hungry partiers would keep them from making out.
Tank on the other hand was to walk around the hall and keep their eyes peeled for anything weird. He knew stationing them in one spot for the whole night would drive them crazy. Had it not been for that, he’d have them stationed with him at the entrance, an artificial way to keep them close to him.
Once everyone was told what to do, Milo, Sweetheart and Tank left to where they were designated. Though, David so badly wanted to drag Tank back. Just to have a conversation with them. To tell them they look wonderful. That he loves them.
But there was work to be done, so like always, David swallowed down and choked on the love that has been years in the making.
--
David’s scent filled their senses and brought a sense of comfort to their wolf side. He cleared their throat and said, “Tank, I need you for a second.” Thank goodness for David and his bailouts. They had been approached by everyone and anyone left, right and centre and desperately needed a break.
“So what do you need me to do?” They asked, curiosity piqued.
“Milo and Asher said that they were running out of plates at the food table, so he wants us to get more.”
They raised their eyebrow. “And they asked for you and me? Specifically? No one else?” They couldn’t help but be suspicious.
“Yes? Is that a problem?”
They were going to kill the two later.
Tank waved David off, gesturing to him to forget everything.
The two walked through the familiar yet unrecognizable hallways from their childhood. They could see their younger, brighter self leaning against the lockers. That they could feasibly achieve a fairy tale ending with their fairy tale prince. Walking through the school with David in their old prom outfit, loving him like a lovestruck teenager should.
Years later, they had somewhat gotten their wish, they were walking through the school with David, but with years of experiences weighing down on them.
What could have been had they not fucked it up royally?
“Nice jacket.”
David perked up at the sudden complement. “You think it looks good?” Did they think he looked good, had he looked in the mirror? He looks like he’s a kind king who decided to grace his subjects with his presence. Tank just had to be a lucky wolf to be this close to him.
“It does look good on you and I’d say you should wear it more often, but then it would lose it’s charm.”
“Well I’ll wear it more if you like it.”
Their heart sped at that comment. He’d wear it more? Because they like it? Tank had to fight their pulse to maintain a steady beat. They did not need his wolf ears to pick up how much that comment had affected him.
They didn’t know what got to them more. The fact that they’ll get to see him in that jacket more often? Or that their opinion matters to him?
Thankfully for their wandering mind, the two wolves have arrived at the storage room. David came forward and pushed it open, letting them both walk inside.
The storage room was dark, the singular lightbulb not being enough to light up the room. It was also cramped. Extremely cramped, to the point that their back was pressed onto his chest. They felt their body heat up, but were convincing themselves that it was because of the humid air and not from their own embarrassment.
They had found the plates they were looking for on a high shelf. David noticed Tank looking at the plates and wordlessly picked them, making them let out a squeal. “Fucking hell David! Give a wolf a word before you pick them up!”
He chuckled at their words. “Forgive me, your majesty. I’ll give you a warning next time.”
Tank pulled his hair in protest. They definitely weren’t thinking about the more suggestive side of their actions.
But their heart dropped at the sound of the door slamming shut.
And it locking.
“SHIT!” David dropped Tank back onto the ground and they ran to bang on the door. “WHAT THE FUCK? UNLOCK THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW!” Every second that passed made their banging more violent and frantic. David called out their name to try to get them to stop, he didn’t want them to get hurt, but nothing was working.
“FLUFFY!”
“WHAT?”
It had been years since anyone called them fluffy.
David thinks it’s a shame, ‘fluffy’ always fits them better than ‘tank’.
“Instead of banging on the door like a maniac, I’ll call Asher to get us out of here.” It was their worst nightmare, being stuck in a small room, but if they were stuck with David, then they'd stick it out.
Once David made the phone call, Tank opened their mouth. “So what now, Alpha? You got anything to keep us busy?”
“You look good in that jacket too.”
Oh fuck, his plan was to kill them before help arrives.
Tank thanked the shitty school infrastructure for only having one lightbulb, so that David wouldn’t see their embarrassed reaction. “Ah thanks, Stealth pulled it out of my closet. Gonna be honest, don’t know where I got it from. Just kinda popped in one day.”
“It’s mine, the jacket. It’s my jacket.”
Shittttttttt.
Tank scrambled to get the jacket off of them, spewing apologies like their life depended on it. They were so caught up in the new information they were given, they had completely forgotten the ‘scandalous’ outfit they wore underneath. But David placed a hand on their shoulder, stopping them.
“You look good in it and I want you to keep it. Besides,” he leaned in to whisper in their ear. “I want to be the one to take it off you.”
With all the false bravado they could muster, they replied, “sounds like you like me Shaw.”
“I don’t.”
Well there goes their heart. Like they ever had a chance with a man like him.
His eyes softened at their dejected look. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” He ran his hand through their hair. It was an action that had always brought them warmth and comfort, and he remembered that.
“You know I’m not the best with words. I’m terrible at expressing my feelings, but you never needed that from me, an explanation. You always got what I was trying to say and accepted it with no question.” He took a deep breath and continued. “But you deserve to hear this, because I want to be clear where I stand. I know that your mind likes to wander, so I’m telling you right here, right now how I feel.”
“My fluffy puffball.” That had earned a chuckle from Tank. “I love you.”
Tank blinked in disbelief before responding. “You… love me? But I’m fucking me! The pack fuckup!”
He scoffed at their words and placed a hand on their cheek. “You made some mistakes, sure, but that doesn’t make you a fuckup.” He placed his other hand on their hip, light enough to not scare them off, but present so he can ground them. “I have loved you when we were kids who were less scarred, I love you during your bad days with Quinn and I still love you. And Fluffy, if I’m being honest, I don’t think- no, I know I will never love someone love someone the way I feel for you.”
How do they respond to that? They were words they’ve been wanting to hear for the longest time. Tank has never thought they deserve such soft love, especially from a man like David, but they won’t fuck up this opportunity they were gifted by the heavens. So they went with theur heart and said the one thing in their brain.
“David, kiss me, please?
And he granted their request.
One soft kiss turned to two, turned to him pressing Tank against the wall and them ripping each other’s jacket off.
Maybe Tank will finally get their fairytale ending with their fairytale prince.
#redacted david#redacted darlin#the way i struggled to keep this fluffy </3 but we pulled through <3#i just think they deserve a wittle kiss <3#zo writes tingz#this is zo speaking#redacted 2022 winter gift exchange
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ok ill explain my thoughts on the omegaverse dynamics. the way that i see it roles in the omegaverse are mainly defined by how you take care of the people that you love and the best way ive come up with to sum that up is alphas are the protectors / betas are the navigators / omegas are the comforters.
alphas protect pack members from threats. they like to be in control because it ensures that things will go the way they want it to, and its easier to protect the pack when theyre the ones directing the ship. they can sometimes be a little headstrong due to which, believing that they know best + taking on a "its my way or the highway" mentality.
betas are the navigators- they get the pack where they need/want to go and help keep the pack together. alphas/omegas address more immediate concerns of the pack while betas maintain the pack over time. theyre the glue holding the ship together + keeping it moving through the water. they are the foundation. theyre more level-headed/less outspoken than alphas/omegas so they often get pushed more into the background but are just as important.
omegas are the comforters - they keep the vibes going. they ensure that everyone is comfortable + having fun + doing okay. they overlap with alphas in this regard- sometimes the comfort of the pack is best kept when theyre protected. but whereas alphas are more willing to directly face threats head on- omegas prefer to safeguard themselves/the pack. though dont get it twisted thinking that omegas wont step it up when needed/when pushed to
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{Suga is a Simp} Suga x Reader
summary: due to your sickness, Suga doesnt stay after practice, which raises some suspicions
pronouns: she/her
word count: 3.3k+
warnings: sickness, medication, mild swearing
a/n: hugeeeeeeeeeeeeeee thank you to @graymoon2 who literally has been the biggest help ever! I couldn't ask for a better friend, beta reader, editor, and writer to help me on this! pleaseeeeee go show them love, they deserve it all
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“Looking back from where we started, we’ve really come together. Before, we were just a bunch of high schoolers with a passion to play on a club team—now we’re a team. A real team. We’ve come together; we have a bond like no other. At the spring tournament, we’re going to show everyone that bond! Together, we will fight, and we will win!” Daichi cheered loudly, encouraging his team to stand up and come together for a chant.
“Fight!”
The spring tournament was still a little far in the future, but it was sure to take them over before they knew it. Since the training camp, each player had a new individual skill they wanted to work on. Once the team broke apart, they all grabbed a one or two balls to fine tune their skills. What before was just a few players staying after practice, was now all of them. They separated out the gym and took advantage of the walls and their managers that were eager to toss balls to them; some even took turns going outside to practice.
They were starting to put their skills together, making one well-oiled machine. However, Suga didn’t grab a ball like he normally would. Instead, he went towards his bag and began to pack up—and it didn’t go unnoticed.
“Suga is leaving?” Hinata tugged on Kageyama's sleeve and pointed in Suga’s direction.
Kageyama pushed the hand off his shoulder and shrugged. “Looks like it. Don't worry about it now. Go work on your spiking while I work on positions. I’m gonna get this toss perfect before I let you try to hit it.”
Hinata nodded understandingly. If it was one thing he knew about Kageyama, it was that he wouldn't do anything that would bring their acceleration to a halt. Hinata kept a close eye on Suga. Suga was constantly checking his phone, typing a few messages here and there as he packed up.
However, Hinata wasn't the only one hindered and dazed by his actions. Tanaka sprinted towards Suga, stopping just before knocking him over. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re so close to nailing the synchronized attack!”
“I think it's pretty obvious that I’m going home,” Suga explained, tucking his volleyball shoes in his backpack and started to put on his outside shoes at the gym doors.
“You can't leave! We need our setter! What could be more important than-”
Daichi cut Tanaka off, “Practice is over. He doesn't need to stay. If he wishes to go home then he can go home. In the meantime we can work on some receives.”
“Alright!” Tanaka dropped the question and went over to Asahi, who was hitting against the wall.
Daichi waited for everyone to be out of ear range and placed a hand on the back of Suga’s shoulder. “If you need to take a personal day tomorrow, you’re more than welcome to. The spring tournament is getting everyone's edge.”
Suga quietly smiled and looked down for a second, debating if it was worth bringing up. It was Daichi after all, the only person he could talk to about it. “y/n told me earlier that she was feeling sick today. She took some medicine and went to school but…”
“But you’re worried. Nothing is wrong with that,” Daichi assured. “I get worried all the time when you guys are feeling sick. Go take care of her, Suga. Will you be at practice tomorrow?”
“I’ll be back tomorrow. Like I said, she went to school but I could tell she wasn’t feeling well. She tends to not take getting sick seriously, so I wanna make sure she doesn't get any worse.”
A faint knock echoed in your room. You had turned off the overhead light, but left the lamp on, softly illuminating the room like a comforting cave. The dim lights made you feel relaxed and took strain away from your eyes.
“Who is it?” You called in a near whisper.
The door slowly opened up. Suga kept his hand on the door knob and waved at you. His smile, that welcoming smile that made you feel like you were at home wherever you were, greeted you.
“It’s just me,” He replied. “Is it okay if I come in?”
“Suga…” You whined. “Did you really skip practice to come over? I told you I was okay. A little cold hasn’t killed me.”
“Practice ended a while ago, I only stayed for the coaches and Daichi’s feedback.”
You rubbed your palm against your forehead, running it down your cheek and neck. You knew you should have never told Suga that you had to take medicine this morning for your sore throat and headache. When you woke up this morning, you noticed how you were snuggled tightly to your sheets, but your body was cold to the touch. You had no clue where it came from, but the pounding in your head told you that you were sick. But you weren’t the nonfunctioning, stay in bed and rot all day sick; you just had a little cold. Everyone gets them from time to time. You haven't had one in a while; it was inevitable that you would get one soon.
“No one else left, didn't they?” You asked. There was an underlying disappointment to your tone. You tried to cover it up, but it was hard to suppress that guilt you felt. This was Karasuno’s year, they were going to win it all, and yet you took one of their third years away from them. You told Suga time and time again that you were fine and that the medicine was doing wonders, but he couldn't stay away.
“They have other skills to work on, they don't need me for those.” He tried to wash your worries and guilt away, but it just wasn't enough.
“I thought you said coach was going to work you into being a substitute server. You should be in that gym right now, with your teammates, working on your serves and attacks. Being here with me isn't helping you, especially when I’ve been fully functioning.”
Suga sighed and shut the door behind him. He walked over and sat on the edge of your bed next to you and put his phone on the nightstand. “I worked myself hard in practice today. If I overwork my body, then I won't play at all. Having rest is good, especially if it's rest with you,” he added.
You turned to your side, glancing up at him. His eyes remained soft and stared back into yours like he was holding them safe. As much as you didn't want to admit it, but his presence alone did more magic than that medicine ever did. You didn't notice at first, but the second you heard his voice you relaxed deeper into your sheets. Your once pounding head turned into a barely noticeable tapping feeling. “So why are you here?” you questioned.
“To make sure you’re taking good care of yourself. I could go on one of my lectures about how important keeping up with medicine, cleaning up, laying down, and not thinking too hard is what you need, but I know you too well. Just because I say you should do it doesn't mean that you will. I wanted to come here and well—” he interrupted himself with a blush starting to form on his cheeks. You smiled contentedly to yourself. “—I just wanted to take care of you, put you to sleep better than when you woke up.”
Although he couldn't see it, you were internally gushing. His heart, his passion, his empathy, it was all yours; only yours. He could've gone anywhere else tonight: his home, the gym, the convenience store, but he chose to come to you. But not because you asked him to, but because he wanted to. “Suga…” you awed out, but was interrupted by a brief cough.
“See?” Suga swiped your hair out of your face, resting his palm and fingertips against your forehead. “That’s why I’m here, to make that go away.” He held your head in his hand, rubbing his thumb over your hairline. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, smiling down at you. Suga smoothed your hair down, making sure you were comfortable. His hand remained on your forehead, soft and warm. “Do you want more blankets? You feel a little chill.”
You shook your head, which caused his hand to fall onto the mattress below. “I told you I’m fine. The room is dark and the sun has set, it's not going to be the normal temp you’re used to. I’m good, really.”
Suga glanced over at your nightstand and noticed the bottle that fell on its side next to a scrunched up tissue. “How long ago did you take these?”
“Before I left for school.”
He held the bottle close to his face and peeled back the label and read the dosage suggestions underneath it. Using his phone he checked the time. Upon seeing it he sighed and grabbed the bottle by the lid, undoing the safety lock. He tapped the bottle twice, allowing two pills to fall into his hand. “Do you have water?”
You rolled your eyes, “I don't need any more medicine. I told you I took some earlier.”
Suga found the water bottle next to the bed leg beneath him. He brought it up and took off the cap, placing it next to the other red one. “It says two pills every ten hours, it's been well over that. Drink up,” he demanded, not leaving any room for questions.
You pushed his hand away, “If I feel fine then there’s no need for me to take any more medication. I went to school just fine today and made it back here safe. I don't need more medication.”
“You probably made it through the day because you took the pills in the morning,” Suga explained. “They kicked in by the time you got to school. y/n, you look weak right now. You didn't use as much force as you normally would to push me away. Just please take the damn medicine, it's not going to kill you if you don't really need it.”
“Will you shut up if I take them?”
“Only about the importance of taking medicine. I didn't come here just to get you to take medicine. I want to rest and spend some time with you.”
You sighed and used your arms to push you up into a seated position. Reaching behind you, you grabbed onto the soft pillow and leaned it against the bed frame. You scooted back into the pillow and put your hand atop of Suga’s, grabbing the two round pills. The pills fell into the back of your tongue, edging you to swallow them. You gestured at Suga to hand the water over. He watched intently as you dipped your head back and brought the head of the water bottle to your lips. Just as you were about to pour some in, you coughed once again, which caused the water to miss your mouth and dribble down your cheek.
You huffed out, annoyed at how weak you felt. A comforting hand held your jawline, sliding across to your chin and cleaning the water off. You looked at Suga, who was biting his bottom lip.
“Don’t you dare laugh.”
“I’m not go—” The second he released his lip from his teeth, he started to laugh. He tried to suppress it by talking, but that only led to a full laugh.
As much as you tried to hate it, you just couldn't. Suga had the most adorable laugh, even when you are mad at him. He closed his eyes, knowing that if he saw your reaction he would only laugh more and get you riled up. He brought his closed fist to his lips and forced it shut, muffling his adorable heaves.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I’m your asshole.” Suga took the water back from you and brought his other hand to your chin. He took a deep breath, calming himself down, before using his finger to tilt your head back. His hand followed the outline of your neck to the back of your head, supporting it as he brought the water to your lips. “Open up~” he teased.
Without moving your head, you looked away. “I can take my own medicine. Stop babying me.”
“I wasn't going to baby you until you failed miserably at drinking water. It’s just water, nothing to be scared of.”
He already had you this far into the palms of his hands, there wasn't much room to run away now. You looked back at him and nodded. He smiled and dipped the water forwards. He knew you so well it shocked you. He poured a little in at first, making sure that the water didn't take you by surprise, then allowed the effortless flow into your mouth and drew back. You swallowed the pills with ease—much easier than you would have on your own.
“There you go…” Suga cooed at you. He twisted the cap back on and placed it back in the night stand. “Scoot over.”
“No, no, no. You’re going to get sick. You said you were putting me to bed. I have taken the medicine and I will now go to bed. Make sure you shut the lamp off before you leave.” You scooted back down the bed, laying down and turning away from him.
Two hands gripped your side and pushed you over, causing you to roll onto your stomach. Your hand hit the mattress and you pushed yourself up. “What was that for!?”
Suga pulled the blanket back before turning off the light. He grabbed the pillow you used earlier for your back and laid it next to the one that you were using. “I told you to scoot over.”
“What the hell? Get out of my bed before you catch my cold! You can't be sick and miss practice!”
He grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you on top of him, your leg brushing against his below you. Instinctively, you buried your face into his neck and gripped onto his shoulders, tracing his collarbone with your fingers. You didn't mean to get this close with him, but it was what your body wanted.
“I will once you’re asleep, I promise,” Suga whispered to you. He brought one hand to your back, soothing it from built up tension as the other played with your hair.
There was no complaining; just like him you also wanted this. You loved the feeling of his fingers brushing against your head and down your spine at the same time. Nothing in the world could ever compare to the safety and compassion you felt in this moment. “Thank you,” you whispered to him. It was soft; you weren't sure if he heard it, but he squeezed you tighter to him.
“Go to sleep, I promise I’ll be right here.” One last time, he pulled the hair out of your face and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.
Just like that, you were out. The last thing you remembered was smiling to yourself with how happy and content he made you feel. Suga stroked your hair while you slept. He knew he told you that he would leave right away, but he just wanted to stay, just for a little longer. He found peace while you slept on him, trusting him with everything you had. Just as he was about to get up and leave, his phone lit up. A ding sounded. He looked back down at you, making sure you didn't stir. Once he was sure your sleep wasn't interrupted, he turned his attention to his phone.
Suga debated if looking at the notification was worth it. On one hand, it might be Daichi, which means that it would be important. But on the other hand, y/n looked so comfortable. Could he really risk moving and waking them up? He decided it was better to check to see if it was Tadashi. There was a chance that something happened during practice, like a new skill or rotation. He reached his arm out, his fingertips shuffling the phone into his hands. It was a snapchat, from…Tadashi?
That's weird. Suga thought to himself. It wasn't like Tadashi to privately message him.
He tapped the red box:
Suga felt his pupils dilate when the timer hit zero. There was no way in hell that anyone knew besides Daichi…right? He always made sure that he was careful about when he texted back, and he made sure that he didn't stare at y/n more than the normal person would.
Going with his gut, Suga decided that it might have just been a lucky guess. y/n doesn't even go to his games, there's no way he connected the dots that easily. He held his phone up to the blank wall in front of him:
Suga was still on edge. Sure, Tadashi was observant, but there’s no way he picked up on his relationship. He thought he’d covered his tracks pretty well…right?
Tadashi’s response proved him wrong:
“Oh shit,” Suga mouthed to himself. That first year really was more observant than he first thought. He thought for sure that no one took that way to the gym—it was on the other end of the school. Well, he has been showing up to practice later than normal. Normally, he was one of the first ones there unless a teacher stopped him. Maybe seeing you more often drew him out of the reality that he was not being as nonchalant as he thought.
If Tadashi noticed his changes, did anyone else? Suga thought. Maybe Asahi? We’ve played together for a long time. He would be the only other person. And Daichi wouldn't tell anyone else.
Before Suga could form a reply, another snap appeared:
Suga sighed in relief. Out of everyone on the team—besides Daichi—Tadashi was the only one he could trust. He felt that everyone would make a big deal out of it; he was the only one with a girlfriend after all. He sees the way that everyone reacts when the captain of the girl’s team talks to Diachi, he didn't want y/n to get overwhelmed by them.
Thinking about it, Suga almost laughed. Hinata would lose his shit, jumping up and down and doing laps out of excitement. He would be supportive, but he would also try to talk too much. Tanaka would be basically drooling; y/n might even steal his attention away from the managers—not that they would care anyways. Tadashi is able to stay quiet, and he’s clearly known for a long time and hasn’t said anything to the others yet. Suga felt his heart warm a little at the new found trust he has with him.
The corner of his mouth raised when he looked down at y/n. He might have some crazy teammates, but they were good teammates nonetheless. y/n has been dying to go to a game; maybe the spring tournament was a good time to bring her along? Of course he would have to convince his coaches to let her on the bus—they did have one spare seat. And maybe a lecture to his teammates about boundaries would need to be in place too. The thought of bringing y/n excited Suga. Overwhelmed with happiness, he held her back a little tighter. Not enough to wake her up, but just enough to remind her in her sleep that he was still there with her.
Tadashi already knew, so there was no need to hide it:
Suga sighed and smiled at how relaxed you felt in his arms. He could tell that he was helping you feel better. “I really am a simp, huh?” he whispered.
#haikyu#haikyuu#sugawara#sugawara x reader#suga x#x reader#oneshot#Haikyu x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyu oneshot#haikyuu oneshot#suga oneshot#sugawara oneshot#haikyu fanfic#haikyu fanfiction#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu fanfiction#suga fanfic#suga fanfiction#sugawara fanfic#sugawara fanfiction#suga imagine#sugawara imagine#haikyu imagine
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ABO Stony AUs!
Celestial Navigation by sabrecmc
Summary: 18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.
Note: Does it need any explanation? This fic is an all time classic and favorite in the Stony fandom!
Object: Matrimony by BladeoftheNebula
Summary: Omega Tony Stark craves adventure and an escape from the life his parents have planned for him in New York. He places a listing in a marriage catalogue to seek a match with an alpha out West, and Sheriff Steve Rogers answers his advertisement. But finding a nice alpha doesn't mean it's all smooth sailing from there..
- A Mail Order Bride AU -
Note: A 10/10! This has all the splendid elements of ABO with an added twist of a West setting and time!
The Team Omega by AngeNoir for PhenomenalAsterisk
Summary: Steve Rogers is thawed, stressed, and not quite sure what Director Fury wants with him. Giving him a unit of all alphas, even if most of them Steve had fought alongside when the alien menace had nearly wiped out the entire city of New York... The thing is, more than four alphas wouldn't work in a unit with one another, not for long. Everyone knew that. Steve knew that, intimately, with the Howling Commandos.
Which was why Director Fury had, apparently, assigned them an omega.
Frustrated at the inability to even choose his team, let alone choose the omega that was supposed to keep the peace between everyone, Steve storms back to his unit's assigned quarters. There, he meets Tony Stark, grandchild of Howard Stark, clearly unhappy with his position and just as clearly unwilling to break contract with the U.S. military complex. So why was someone like Anthony Stark here, in Steve's charge?
And how could Steve even act upon his genuine attraction, with the power imbalance clearly in place?
Note: I admit, this has one of the best takes on ABO I read in a while! It’s a good read!
If You Love Me I'll Love You Too by Carsonian
Summary: Starrk hands Steven a knife, leatherbound and strong, to fulfill the rite. The Alpha must go first. Steven takes Anthony’s hand, slices a clean line across the palm.
“And in the sharing of blood, I am become yours.” Steven recites.
Anthony takes the knife and returns the favour.
“And in the sharing of blood,” He looks up, eyes dark and unfathomable, “I am become yours.”
Note: A well-written ABO Stony fanfic with a dash of arranged marriage and Middle Ages (though the time period wasn’t exactly specified). It takes on how Steve and Tony navigates through their forced marriage and how they learn to care for each other!
Tribute Given, Treasure Gained by sphagnum
Summary: “Steve,” the Captain said, hand over his chest.
Tony licked his lips. Was he supposed to give his name, or remain silent until he was asked a direct question? The Captain--Steve, apparently--already knew his name, he had to, it had been included on the settlement he and Stane had signed. Was this a test? Time was passing and Steve was still waiting with his hand on his chest but Tony had to figure out the right answer fast or when Steve moved he might--“
Tony,” he blurted.
“Tony,” Steve repeated. He hadn’t come any closer. He said something short that might have been pleased to meet you or you look good on your knees. Tony had no way of knowing and he wasn’t going to risk echoing it. He kept quiet. See, Howard? I do know how to shut up when my life depends on it.
Note: A nice ABO with Warlord!Steve! This is a great read, with the steamy smut on the end being a nice cherry on top!
While We Pretend to Sleep by Typo66
Summary: Tony pretends to be an alpha. Then he forgets he had been pretending. One thing he remembers is Steve. Steve tries to help out in his old fashioned, ethically strict way. Tony likes making big gestures. He has never been subtle.
Note: Another Stony classic! This is a great take on ‘Tony denying his nature’! A deifinite 10/10 read!
Rockabye by BladeoftheNebula
Summary: Cute alphas didn’t appear out of nowhere to help ruined omegas. That was a widely accepted fact.Tony Stark had always known his life wouldn’t be easy as a genius omega in an alpha’s world. But not even he predicted getting knocked up and forced to move to a small town in the middle of nowhere.
Note: A fun read where Firefighter!Steve lend a hand to pregnant Tony! It also takes place in a Small Town kind of setting, which is an added bonus!
In the middle of the night by defenceless_stark
Summary: In the past, alphas used to only mate with other alphas and maybe the occasional beta or delta. Omegas were seen as useless and scum to alphas. Omegas would only stay in a pack if they could keep up and they were only protected if they were the head alpha’s offspring. Over time, alphas soon discovered that omegas were useful for producing offspring, due to their high fertility rates and weaker genes, so, in most cases, only the alpha’s genes will pass on. Alphas soon evolved to an omega’s scent, making them possessive and dominant over omegas which led to an increase in abuse and mistreatment.
Steven Rogers was expected to be an omega, but much to everyone’s to surprise, he was an alpha.
Anthony Stark was expected to be an alpha, but much to his father’s disappointment, he was an omega.
Like any omega, Tony had his fair share of omega abuse and harassment. But unlike any other omega, he wasn’t one to sit around and take it.
Note: If you are avid ABO fan, this is a Stony fanfic that you wouldn’t want to miss!
In A Rut by rougewinter
“You don’t have to do this, Tony.” Pepper said as she tightened her white knuckled grip on the clipboard in her arms. “I’m sure we can find someone else.”
“Yes. I do.” Tony said, surprised that his voice came out steadier than he expected.
Or the one where Steve goes into an Alpha Rut and Tony is the only one who can help.
Note: A short but sweet-well, not sweet since it has that dose of great smut! make sure to check it’s sequel where Tony is in heat! (Heat Up by rougewinter for avengemehamlet)
Please don’t (give me what I want) by masterlokisev159
Summary: After the events in Siberia, a new law is declared and Steve and Tony's newly reformed relationship is torn to pieces.
Then Tony goes into heat. And Steve is adamant to save it.
A post-civil war story where Tony is put in a position where he cannot consent to anything at all. Steve, the strongest alpha of all time, is furious.
Note: For those Stony shippers that wants a bit of angst!
Perfect Man for the Job by Ilearnedtoreadforthis
Summary: After his ordeal in Afghanistan, omega Tony creates the Stark Housing Initiative: Executive Level Development (or S.H.I.E.L.D., for short) to provide housing to returning veterans. When alpha Steve Rogers applies to manage S.H.I.E.L.D., it turns Tony's life upside down.
Note: This is a cute employee/boss story with a dash of ABO!
World Acclimation by Del_Rion
Summary: When an unexplained phenomenon washes over the entire planet, the Avengers are left to struggle along with the rest of the population. Chains of command, relationships and friendships alike are put to the test as new biological imperatives take hold, and only one thing is certain: the world will never be the same.
Note: This is one of my favorites! It has a unique take on ABO that I don’t see often. And well, Am still hoping for the next installment. Though, read the tags carefully!
You Are Not Broken, Just Bent. by NazakiSama166
Summary: He won't break!
No matter how much he was tortured, no matter how much he was beaten, starved, threatened... He won't, he won't, he won't!
Until he did...
---
When Shield uncovers a hidden sub-basement in the house of Obadiah Stane, they find a tortured omega and his pup. Everything went down the drain when that Omega turned out to be Tony Stark, Howard Stark's son that went missing six years ago.
Note: Anyone in the mood for angst?
WIP:
Finding Pack by Naferty
Summary: In a world where pack means everything from status to fame to survival and to family, newly pack-less Tony Stark is trying to survive after those he once trusted betrayed him, and starting over by searching for a new pack to take him in, but with his age and status weighing heavily on his shoulders finding someone to take a chance on him might be easier said than done.
What pack wanted an old infertile omega in their ranks? Certainly not the famous Avengers pack led by the equally famous Captain.
Note: This is a bit of a slow burn Stony fanfic that ticks all ABO boxes! It’s an all-time-favorite and classic!
Secrets Don't Make Friends by sayah1112
Summary: Tony Stark has a secret. Several, in fact. Outed to the world as an Omega, he finds himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. His only hope at salvation rests upon the strong shoulders of a certain Captain Steven Rogers. The problem? Rogers hates his guts.
Note: Another favorite of mine! This is a great hurt/comfort fanfic centered on stony!
This is just part 1 guys! I’m kind of a big fan of ABO so I have a few more to recommend!
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Blackberry Winters.
Part 1
Namjoon Werewolf Au !
Alpha werewolf!
Heavy angst.! Pregnancy, unrequited love, hate to love, prejudice, mental health issues.
-------------------------------
There is a tide in the affairs of men, which , taken at the flood leads on to fortune. Opportunities had to be seized and made use of and you had to be bold and confident in order to lead your people to fortune.
Namjoon, as the head alpha of the Kim clan, knew this better than anyone else. Which was why he was here, in a meeting with alphas from the three neighbouring clans lining his boundary lines, hoping to get permission to access the seven or so aquifers that lay to the east of the packhouse.
The rains had been kind to them, the reservoirs were full but he wanted to make sure they had a backup plan just in case things went south in some way. His father had taught him that. Being prepared for the worst was second nature to him now. The land around the aquifers was rich and fertile and Jungkook had already let him plant tangerines and apples in the area for the little ones. The harvest was generally shared between the two clans and Namjoon was grateful for the easy camaraderie that the alpha of the land offered him.
The land belonged to alpha Jeon , a dear friend by all means and he knew that Jungkook would grant him permission as he always did . But still it was never a certainty. The council members had the final say and many of them held a grudge when he refused to marry Jungkook's sister last spring. That had been a no brainer for him. Junghee was beautiful but also like a sister to him, besides being incredibly intelligent. He didn't need a wife like that. And that was why he had picked, Jiah.
Sighing, Namjoon glanced back at the campsite where the women were gathered, sitting in small groups and laughing around a blazing fire while a few alphas hung about roasting meat and passing out moats of wine around . His eyes fell on his wife, timid and shy , sitting away from the rest and regret churned. He had been impulsive. She was ill suited to be his wife , and the last three months had been a bitter wake up call. Namjoon was well read, eloquent and bold. His wife was barely illiterate, with a stutter and shifty eyes that never met anyone's gaze head on.
He had chosen her because she had seemed docile and pliant and while she was definitely that, she was also ....at the risk of sounding rude and unkind, very very boring.
A simpleton. She seemed to know nothing about anything, content to disappear into the shadows, to hide and hang back and practically become one with the upholstery when he asked her to sit next to him.
It had been three months and they had barely spoken beyond a dozen words. It was awkward and stilted and just plain uncomfortable, sleeping with her. Sex was supposed to fun and passionate and filled with excitement and desire but with her , it was a chore he couldn't wait to cross off his list.
Leaning back against one of the poles holding up the makeshift tent, he watched her as she scooted away from one of the older omegas in the Jeon clan, the lady looking startled at the reaction. He shook his head in despair. He hadn't even wanted to bring her along but his mother had insisted. Something about her being young and innocent, too shy to stay behind with strangers for two whole weeks while he traveled to the Jeon's .
How was he supposed to explain that they were strangers as well ? That despite the label of mates, despite the fact that he had been the one to choose her, he felt nothing for her? Not even the idle curiosity one felt for strangers?
It was partly her demeanour, but mostly her appearance. She wasn't well groomed and it always made him frown. He had hoped that she would at least keep herself presentable, maybe hire the weavers to make her a few new tunics .
Something colorful and patterned like the ones the other omegas wore during festivities. The Kim clan had a lucrative fabric trade with the Min pack , and Yoongi and Hoseok always kept the most luxurious and vibrant silks and fabrics for him.
Jiah had shown a brief and fleeting interest in the luxurious threads, when his mother had brought her along to the tailor to get her wedding trousseau done....but the moment the young beta had asked her questions about her likes and dislikes, she had recoiled and went back into her shell. Namjoon had watched the whole scene, annoyance growing with every passing second. He wanted her to be pliant but also independent. Low maintenance . But apparently he would have to hold her hand through everything.
And that's when he'd begun to actively distance himself from his wife. He didn't have the time nor inclination to help her navigate her new life. He was busy, what with autumn coming to an end and the first chills of winter already beginning to permeate the air. The betas and alphas in the pack were already occupied with hunting enough meat to last them the winter, the women busy with curing the meat with spices and salt.....
He should have left her behind with them.
" A coin for your thoughts, Alpha Kim?"
Kim Jisoo came to stand by him, her scent of floral dust and vanilla cloyingly sweet on his senses. She had helped him with many a rut and he had always nurtured a sweet spot for the omega who was well versed in many languages. She was also one of the courtesans they had brought along for the evening entertainment. Jisoo slipped her hands through his arm and he smiled, letting her brush close to his torso.
His gaze went to his wife, who was staring at him, eyes blank and lips parted softly. She looked a little upset.
Which was understandable but still annoying. They weren't in love or anything and he wasn't cheating on her. Jisoo was a friend. He was allowed to have those. Jiah had no right to look at him with suspicion or with entitlement. He didn't owe her all her time. He wondered if she would react if he were to confront her now. As it is , he let himself stare right at her, half wishing that she would talk back to him.
But the moment their eyes met, Jiah looked away, entire body shifting as though in embarassment. He frowned , but lightly patted the soft fingers curled on his arm. He turned to Jisoo with a smile, taking in the pretty elfin features. The perfectly curled hair , threaded with gold and jeweler pins fell in soft ropes around her face, her lips tinted red and her cheeks brushed rose. She looked enchanting and unreal and he felt his blood stir in arousal, the need to feel her under him suddenly overwhelming.
He glanced back at Jiah and she looked a little green , her face ashen. His eyes narrowed when she shifted and looked around in a mild panic. Oh God, what was it now?
Irritable, he gently pulled away from the beautiful omega next to him.
" Excuse me, dear. I need to check on my wife." He said apologetically and she frowned staring at where he was looking.
"What's wrong?" Jisoo asked sharply but he ignored her, already moving to his mate.
Which was just as well, because the moment he reached her, her eyes rolled back and she toppled right into his arms.
She had fainted .
---------------------------------
" I'm sorry we had to cut this short but I hope your mate feels better soon, hyung." Jungkook's voice was laced with genuine concern and Namjoon nodded, hugging the younger alpha tight.
Junghee looked just as sympathetic, next to him.
" She'll be fine . I tried to get her to stay but she's been panicking a lot and refuses to let any of the healers here examine her. I think she'll be more comfortable with your pack healer. " She said gently.
Namjoon nodded, glancing back at Jiah who sat side-saddle on one of the smaller ponies, her eyes wide and face still ashen. He had tried to tell her it would be okay , but she had insisted on going home. The stark terror on her face had unsettled him deeply. He didn't know why she was so scared of the Jeon healer? Could it be because he was a man? Whatever the reason she hadn't let him examine her and because he couldn't ask her to just forget about the whole thing ( he was still head alpha , he still had to set an example as a caring mate. ) Namjoon had been forced to arrange for their return back home.
He had left Seokjin and Taehyung behind to carry the talks on his behalf, and Jisoo stood a few dozen feet away looking annoyed as he gave her
an apologetic smile.
The journey back to the Main village would be a couple of days and he had packed enough food for the both of them.
As he turned back to mount his stallion, he caught a glimpse of her face as she stared at him.
She looked lost , apologetic and clearly upset.
And he wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his life reading her face, trying to figure her out.
He has no interest in either.
-------------------------
The journey became incredibly tiring, especially when the skies opened up on them. Rain Lashed the ground , intent on soaking the earth and Namjoon watched her shiver, trembling as they all huddled beneath the shade of some trees, blankets wrapped tight around her thin torso. Why was she so thin? Why did she look at food like it was poisoned?
They were only a mile from home but had to stop, the deluge was far too strong for the animals to see ahead of them.
Namjoon himself sat next to an omega from the clan. He recognised her as one of the maids his mother had given to Jiah.
" Is your mistress doing well?" He asked gruffly and the omega startled, bowing twice in respect before answering.
"I...she ... She doesn't say much, alpha." The girl blushed under his gaze, looking away nervously and he frowned, glancing back at Jiah.
So it wasn't just him, then. She didn't trust anyone. He stared at her till she felt the heat of his gaze and looked up, eyes wide like a startled bird, like one of the starlings that nested in the wooden beams of his hut. She looked surprised, then terrified, eyes darting away at once and he tried not to growl in sheer frustration.
He wondered if it was because of his face.
Namjoon had no large feelings about his looks but he knew he was far from beautiful. ( A/N : A whole lie , I know but please bear with me for the story :*) it was one of the reasons he had wanted a plain looking bride. But perhaps his own chosen mate had , had dreams of marrying a very handsome man? Perhaps she had been infatuated with someone like that , from the clan?
It wasn't a far fetched idea. But still, she had been free to refuse his proposal. When he had first met the clan's watchkeeper, old man Gong in the humble hut on the outer borders of the pack land, he had made it clear that it wasn't some kind of order. She was free to refuse.
But she hadn't.
She had merely bowed and agreed and promptly appeared with a satchel full of her things and followed him back to his own home.
So why did she continue to act like she was here against her will?
It irked him no end.
As the skies cleared, they began their trek again and Namjoon pushed thoughts of her out of his mind. He had to plan for the winter, make sure there was enough food and also make sure they had enough herbs and liniments and oils in the apothecary. Mind drifting off to the countless things he was responsible for, Namjoon forgot all about his awkward mate and the reason they were going back home in the first place.
Which is why, when they reached home and he took his bath, cleaning himself up and finally settling down to some delicious food from the kitchens , his mother's words made him drop the chopsticks in shock.
" She is with child."
Namjoon stared at his mother in complete shock.
Fuck.
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Authors Note : I had this idea and just had to write it. Hope you guys enjoyed it.
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hi i love ur writing so much!! can i request something with mutual pining, denial of feelings, idiots-to-lovers, hurt/comfort/angst , maybe some jealousy and fluff and smut if you want i just need something really angsty with javier peña, frankie m or din djarin?? tysmm!!!!!
The Bantha (Din Djarin x f!Reader)
Summary: Being an animal lover does not work well with the plans the Tuskens and Mos Pelgo citizens have to kill the krayt dragon. A retelling of S2E1 of the Mandalorian: The Marshal.
W/C: 4.4K
Warnings: talk of animals being harmed/dying, lots of arguing and angst, Vanth kind of is gross bc I hate his character aha, we respect the Tuskens in this house and use proper terminology for them, language, tiniest mentions of alcohol
A/N: Not gonna lie, the idea for this fic came to me pretty quickly but it took me a long time to properly figure it out. Lots of drafting and editing so THANK YOU to my beta readers, you’re all the best ever!! Anon, I’m so sorry this took so long but I hope it’s worth it!
Of all the dilemmas you’d expected to face as you traveled the galaxy with a tiny, Force-sensitive, 50-year-old toddler and a Mandalorian with the emotional capacity of the earlier-mentioned child, the last one you’d ever predicted you’d face had to be the challenge of ridding a tiny desert town of a giant sand beast that eats their banthas.
“You are so fucking dense,” you groan as you and Din settle on a speeder bike, the little green child tucked in a wrap on your chest. “You’re a Mandalorian, a battle-worn bounty hunter with a kill streak probably in the thousands, and some random man asks for your help and not only do you fucking freely give it, you decide to help them kill the sand dragon terrorizing their town.” You groan to him, rubbing your temples.
Din nods and starts up the speeder bike. “You don’t need to summarize what we just lived through,” he grunts and you wrap an arm around him.
“I do, because I need to clarify that your dumb ass would do that. Sometimes I really do think you don’t have a brain under that beskar bucket,” you shake your head, trying to keep the anger that you’re feeling. If you’re not careful, it’ll turn to adoration and love.
You’ve been battling your feelings for Din for a while now, trying to force the giddiness bubbling in your chest deep down inside. The man is everything you look for in a partner: strong, committed, tall, protective. He’s good with the child, adorably cuddly and loving. He’s even funny sometimes, making dry-humored remarks around the ship.
“Excuse me for caring,” the man grumbles through the modulator. He’s strong and warm beneath your arms, the Tatooine heat making the beskar warm like your bunk in the morning when you don’t want to get up. Stop it, stop it you remind yourself. This is not the time to be enraptured by the Mandalorian man’s body.
That’s yet another trait you love about him- how caring he is. He’s a bounty hunter, a warrior by oath who never shows his face and probably knows millions of ways to kill someone with his bare hands. Yet he cares. He raises the child well; he even raised him alone before you came into the picture. He puts himself in harm’s way for innocent people on the daily, all because he simply thinks it’s right.
You take a sip from your water canteen and hand it to the baby on your chest so he can drink too. “No, I will not excuse you for caring when you’re doing stupid shit, Din,” you scowl and cap the canteen as two three-fingered green hands give it back to you. “You came here- we came here, our family did, to find Mandalorians. There are none.”
“This man will give me his beskar if we help,” Din hisses, revving the engine of the speeder, non-verbally telling Vanth to get moving. The man is dawdling along, a few meters away, as he packs his bike up.
“What do you need it for, huh?” You ask him, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “I’m not a Mandalorian. This little shit doesn’t need beskar. You have a full set of armor already.”
“Beskar belongs to me, to my people, by my Creed,” he says, articulating himself with his hands too. It’s a habit he’s picked up from you. “You wouldn’t ask a Tatooinian to deprive themselves of the moisture they farm.”
You put your face in your hands and groan. “No, you’re right, because they fucking need water to live. You do not need beskar to survive, Din!” You shout, getting off the speeder bike. “And please, forget I called us a family. We’re clearly just a bounty hunter and his… assistant, whatever the fuck I am, and some little kid we picked up for the ride.” You stalk off towards the building.
“Where are you going?” He asks as you turn.
Cobb is standing to the side somewhere, and you approach him. “You got another speeder? I don’t want to put up with him for the ride.”
The man chuckles and claps your shoulder. “Sure thing, pretty thing.” He wanders off and returns about a minute later with another speeder. Din watches the two of you in annoyance, visible from his rigid body language. “Hop on. You know how to drive?” You nod once and he heads to his own speeder. “I’ll lead. You two follow.”
-
The ride is uneventful at first. Cobb Vanth tells the two of you the story of how he came to be the town marshal, and Din nods his silent comprehension when the man in beskar looks over at him. Most of the stories are aimed at you, desperate to crack your stony anger. It doesn’t work. You stare straight ahead, daring to break your frown into a neutral expression when the little green baby coos excitedly at the wind in his ears.
There are valleys and caverns to navigate through, nimbly ducking and weaving on your speeder bike. The kid loves it, squealing happily when you fly over a bump or turn a sharp corner. It’s a joyride to him.
When Din and Vanth suddenly stop your ride, you panic, holding the child close against your chest. From your holster, you grab your weapon and stand next to the two men. The growling noises are revealed to be massiffs, huge dog-like lizards. You squeal in delight, immediately dropping to your knees and summoning the beast in Tusken.
“What in the hell is she doin’?” Vanth mutters to Din as the big animal comes bounding toward you.
“She’s always like this with animals. Thinks they’re all big puppies,” Din rolls his eyes but can’t help himself: he smiles beneath his helmet as the beast licks your face and you scratch its sides.
You’re such a wonderful person, Din sighs, even though he’s mad at you. You’ve always been amazing with other species, like massiffs and the little green child strapped to your chest. You’re so intelligent too: speaking seemingly endless languages.
“They are big puppies!” You coo and press a kiss to the forehead of one massiff. Another finds Din, who also bends down to give it scratches and attention. “Green bean, look!” You tell the child and put out his hand for the massiff to lick. “See? They’re our friends,” you tell him, admiring the way the little green child giggles at the scaly skin.
From around a corner, a Tusken appears, then several. You stand and lower your weapon, speaking to them first in their native language. “We mean no harm. You have beautiful massiffs,” you tell them then turn to Din and Vanth. “Drop the weapons.”
“Are you crazy?” Vanth shouts.
“We are here to put an end to the krayt dragon,” you explain to them in their language. “Your assistance and knowledge would certainly help us. You want it gone too, yes?”
They affirm you that it’s a yes, and you nod back at the men. You know Din understands. “They’re willing to help if you’ll stop being a douchebag.” Vanth starts to talk but you hold up a hand and cut him off. “I know, I know. We can strike a deal. Are you willing?”
Din’s heart is nearly exploding. In any other timeline, he’d be the one conducting negotiations, using his threat as a Mandalorian to run the show. But here you are, with your gentle nature, making deals and completing them through cooperation and kindness. It’s hard to speak in a soft tone when speaking Tusken, yet you can do it. All with a baby strapped to your chest. Maker, Din thinks, he might be in love with you.
Vanth sighs a few moments later. “Why the hell not?”
-
Din talks with the Tuskens for a while at the camp, planning and negotiating as night falls and the air starts to get cold. To entertain the child, you spend time with the banthas, brushing their fur and letting the baby get exposed to the animals.
The kid loves them. He coos happily as he strokes their thick fur, giggling as one of them gives him a kiss and covers him in slime. You wash him off and return, quietly talking with the Tuskens caring for the creatures.
You’ve taken a liking to them. They’re gentle and soft, like big lumbering puppies, really. They moo when you brush their fur just right, let their eyes slip shut when you scratch them between the eyes. You’ve always had a soft spot for animals, like Din said earlier.
Cobb likes you. That much is clear from the way he finds you when he’s not working with Din and the Tuskens, bringing you food and water as you and the child mind your business. He’s overly flirtatious, to the point of annoyance. He’s rude and crude about the Tuskens, calling them words you’d never use to describe a human.
Politely excusing yourself, you allow the child to run with some of the other Tuskens’ children and spot a silver-plated man sitting by the fire.
“Vanth is such a goddamn xenophobe,” you grumble as you sit down next to the fire with Din, the child off playing with some Tusken children. He’d ranted about the Tuskens as you rode with them, luckily in Basic so that the people couldn’t understand him.
“Thought you liked him,” Din says and cocks his head. “He certainly likes you.”
You roll your eyes and sip the canteen of water, looking at the crackling fire. “Those things are not mutually exclusive,” you chuckle, looking over at him. “What, are you jealous, tin can?” You tease and knock on his beskar pauldron.
“In your dreams, cyar’ika,” he teases. It’s clear to him that whatever tension had been between the two of you earlier has dissipated, enough for him to steal the water flask from your hand and pass it to the child as he toddles past.
“I was drinking that, you fucking bantha,” you laugh and smack him on an unarmored part of his arm. The Tatooinian desert gets cold at night, you find, and you pull into yourself a little more from the cold.
Din unclips his cape and drapes it over your shoulders, tucking it in beneath where your arms press against your ribs so that it wraps tight to your body. “Hm. You do have a heart under there,” you tease and sigh, naturally leaning against Din and resting your head on his shoulder pauldron.
“So it’s been said,” he nods and even dares to rest his head on top of yours. Through the bare spots in his beskar, he can feel the way your body radiates warmth into the chilly night. You spot a little green head toddling past again, much slower than the other children thanks to his tiny legs, and Din scoops him up.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur quietly, the roar of the Tuskens’ conversations creating a soft hum around you. “For what I said, when I yelled at you. You’re right. You really are just caring for them.”
He nods. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“I’m more sorry for saying we aren’t a family. I mean, we are, right? Not that we’re like, a couple or anything,” you say hurriedly, your voice low as you stumble over your words. “But you and this little womp rat…” you muse as you scratch the baby’s little green head. “You are my family. That much is clear to me.”
Din nods once more. “I agree.”
You smile up at him. “What’s going on under that bucket, huh?”
He turns, looking off. “Just going over the plans for how we’re going to get that krayt dragon.”
“Ooh, share,” you ask, taking one of his hands and lacing through his glove-covered fingers. “I didn’t mean it when we said all of this for some banthas, you know. I’ve really fallen in love with them lately.”
Din is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t answer. “Din?”
He knows you’re going to hate him for this. Your big heart, your animal-loving, sweet talking kindness is not going be okay with this, but he has to tell you the truth. “We’re going to have to sacrifice some of the banthas for this mission to work.”
“What?” You exclaim, dropping his hand. “You can’t possibly do that.”
“We have to. We need to lure the dragon.”
“Do it some other way!” You frown, looking over at the big soft desert cows. “Seriously, please, Din.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “They’re not sentient.”
“But they can feel!” You exclaim again, standing. “Fuck this. Why don’t you sacrifice yourself to the krayt dragon and see how that feels?” You shout, storming off. You’re aware it’s childish, but you stomp to your tent and lie down. You close your eyes and hope Din doesn’t come to find you.
-
Of course you didn’t mean it. Of course you didn’t want Din to sacrifice himself to the krayt dragon. So why is he doing it? Why are you on your knees, screaming to the sky that he did exactly what you said?
You’d been avoiding him since that night, since you showed vulnerability and subsequently returned to anger towards the man. You’d wanted to apologize, but you couldn’t get over the sacrificing of the animals for the cause. You just couldn’t.
Din had flown straight into the sand dragon’s mouth, just seconds ago, and is now deep inside its bowels, you’re sure. You clutch the baby to your chest and wail, agonized and terrified. Vanth stands at your side, a hand resting on your shoulder as you wheeze and sob.
But this is Din. He must have a plan. He has to have a plan; he’s a battle-worn warrior and you’ve never seen him lose a fight. You’d stormed off before you could hear the rest of his plans the other night- maybe this was part of it. But the way Vanth stares at the dragon in terror makes you think that maybe it isn’t. Maybe Din just really fucked it up. You set the little green kid in his cradle and stand, sniffling and clinging to the metal sphere as if it’s your last lifeline to Din.
Suddenly, there’s a burst of green goo and out flies a shining silver rocket: it’s Din. “Oh thank the fucking Maker,” you shout as he lands not far from your small group, the wailing and dying sand beast behind him.
He’s covered in slime, but you’ve never been so happy to see the man. You rush to him and throw your arms around him, not giving a single fuck as you jump on him. “Please, never fucking do that again,” you wheeze into his cape, getting yourself covered in slime.
The hug is not comfortable. Din is all beskar where you want to feel his strong body, but it’s all worth it when he wraps his arms around you too. You’re crying, he knows it, and he knows just why. “I didn’t do it because you said it. You know that, right?”
You let go of him, sniffling and wiping your eyes. “Yeah. I was just so scared- oh Maker, Din, I can’t fucking lose you,” you admit, freely crying now. “I love you, I really do, and I can’t-“
“How?”
You look at him in confusion.
“How do you love me?”
This damn man. He’s full of surprises, just getting literally eaten alive by a krayt dragon, and now he’s asking you for a full emotional confession. You’re still reeling from the shock, but the fact that he’s there is enough. You don’t care that Cobb is definitely listening over your shoulder. “Every way. All of them. Romantic, friendship, family. You feel like my home and I want to be with you.” No better time than now, you suppose, to admit this all.
Din walks a step closer. “Romantic. Huh.”
“I hate that fucking helmet,” you admit, trying to deflect the emotion between the two of you. “I can never see your face. Can’t know what you’re thinking, your tone, your-“
Din cuts you off. “We ride back to the village and clean up. Meet me in the home as the suns set.”
What that means, you have no clue, but you nod. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” you murmur, putting a hand on the cut-out cheek of his helmet.
-
The town rejoices when you come back, shouting and celebrating over the dragon’s death and the plentiful meat that came with the creature. You’d joined in the reverie, taking a shot of spotchka and chanting along to a Tatooinian call-and-response they’d started. It was wonderful, really, and you and the little green thing were the stars. They admired the little green thing, cooing over him. You were proud to stand there as his mother.
The party died as the suns set. Din was notably absent from the hubbub, preferring to be alone as usual. You and the kid talked with the villagers, but as the suns started to sink, you excused yourself and found your way to the spare home you and Din each had rooms in.
Vanth and the women had taken the baby when you told them you were going to talk with Din. Not that it was hard: they all loved the little beast, showered him with affection. It was practically a competition over who got to play with him most.
The building has a warm glow as you wander over to it, wrapping your arms around yourself. The night has become cold now that the two harsh suns have sunk below the horizon, and it’s a relief to open the door to the home and feel the warmth radiating from a fireplace inside.
You find Din staring out of a window on the back, watching the endless wind sweep across the sand dunes, a dark sky contrasting the golden ground. Just his silhouette is visible, black against the deep blue. “Hi,” you say quietly as you walk in, the worn floorboards creaking beneath your feet no matter how deliberately you step. “Glad to see you got cleaned up.”
The man tilts his head in an obvious eye roll, even through the helmet. The slime was disgusting, although Din’s adoptive son had seemed to enjoy the gooey texture, as little ones are prone to. “I almost died and you’re already back to the sarcasm.”
“It’s called a coping mechanism,” you laugh gently and place a hand on his shoulder. There’s no beskar there, just soft fabric warmed by his body. It makes you shiver; even in the safety of the Crest, Din never takes off the armor. You wonder why it’s gone. Maybe to clean it?
Din’s quiet for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers splayed over his shoulder in such an affectionate gesture. “You know how much I trust you, don’t you?” He asks and the black visor turns toward you, admiring what’s visible of your face in the moonlight. Your eyes glimmer and he admires them, the color he’s always loved.
You nod and smile just a little, cheeks growing rounder with the movement. “Of course.” He’s trusted you with his son, the most important thing to him in the galaxy. There’s one clear gesture even now: the absence of the beskar from his form. Maker, he’s broad, shoulders just as wide as with the metal.
He nods and shuts the window’s shutters, allowing even less light in before turning to you. There’s just a soft glow in the room, outlining the shape of the helmet and his shoulders. You can’t see any detail, just the shape. He walks over towards the long comfortable seating in the middle of the room and you instinctively follow, standing in front of it and stopping when he stops, facing him. His hands find your shoulders and his fingertips brush down your arms until they find yours. “Take off my helmet.”
“What? No,” you exclaim, frowning even though he can’t see it.
“Can you see anything?” He asks, a hand gesturing, an even darker shadow through the already murky visibility.
“No.”
“My Creed says you cannot see my face. Not that I can’t remove the helmet.”
You gulp hard, your fingers lacing through his. They’re bare. You’ve never felt them before. Often you’ve wondered if they’re calloused and tough from his work, soft from being hidden beneath the soft leather for all those years, or somewhere in between. They do fall into that in between, but they’re warm and strong and large, even without the leather casing them.
“I can’t do that to you,” you shudder, squeezing his fingers. “It’s the very thing about you, that you can’t take it off,” you start to ramble. You want to, desperately, but there’s no turning back now. If you feel his face, if you’re even so lucky as to kiss him, you’ll never be able to get enough of it. You’ll be subjected to an eternity of longing, even more than you’re yearning now.
“I want you to,” he breathes, his beskar-covered forehead falling against yours. “Please, cyare.”
“Why don’t you hate me?” You ask, your voice straining. You need to keep stalling, need to keep pushing it off or you’re actually going to do it. “I’m so mean to you. All the time,” you point out to him. You do it to keep him away, but he’s persistent. He never seems to care. “All we do is argue.”
“I may not be able to use the Force like the kid,” he mumbles, bringing one hand up to cup your face. “But I can sense your feelings. You don’t hide them well.”
“Din,” you plead, biting your lip and closing your eyes to prevent the tears that are threatening to well in them. “You can’t do this.”
“I can, and I want to.”
“Why are you so fucking patient with me when I’m only ever a bitch to you?” You practically wail, half annoyed and half honored. “You’re such a good man, Din. You don’t deserve someone shitty like me. I’ve got no hunting skills, I’m too stubborn, I’m mean and-”
He stops you by lifting your hands, setting them on either side of his helmet. “You can’t see me, so it doesn’t break the Creed. I want you to do this, because I want you.” He’s eternally blunt, but in this moment you can’t tell if it’s breaking your heart or warming it. “I love you too. Please. Take it off.”
“This is your last fucking chance, Djarin,” you tell him with a wavering voice.
“Cyare.”
“Okay,” you nod and take a deep breath. Din unlatches the little bit at the bottom that keeps it sealed against his head, and there’s a soft rush of air. Your hands grip either side and you slowly lift it off. Din takes it once it’s gone and rests it on the plush seat.
Your hands are drawn to his face like you’re being pulled on a string, your skin prickling as you feel the stubble along his chin and jaw. Your fingers trace his face for a few moments, exploring the new terrain. His cheeks feel hot, and his lips make you shiver again with how soft they are. Swallowing hard, you dare to look at his silhouette, noticing his hair is mostly matted down from the helmet. “What color are your eyes, Din?”
“Brown.”
You smile at that, and you rest your head against his shoulder, your hands dropping to your sides. His arms encircle you and it feels perfect, like you were meant to be like this for all of eternity and it took you long enough. “Of course they are.”
He chuckles at that and presses a kiss into your head, his hands finding your waist. “I did take this off for a reason.”
You lift your head, looking at his just-visible shape. “Really? I don’t know what you mean,” you flirt.
He’s silent. You’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, absolutely certain. “May I kiss you?”
The words are ever blunt, just like Din. “Yes, you bantha,” you tease, but the laughter is gone as his hands find your face again.
Just like that, his lips are on yours, radiating heat and love and it immediately tops the feeling of his arms around you. You gasp, not expecting him to do it so quickly, but your lips quickly meld to his and you sigh in content.
You stay like that for a while, hands traveling each other’s heads and necks and shoulders and sides as you kiss. He’s so warm and strong, his muscles just as sculpted as the indestructible metal that covers him. He’s so human.
After a bit, Din breaks away and presses his forehead to yours once more. He doesn’t speak, just rests there, his hands on your waist. His breath mingles with yours. For once, you’re speechless, unsure of what you can say back. The sarcasm has been stripped from your body like the beskar from Din’s.
“I better put the helmet back on,” he murmurs.
“Please don’t,” you whisper, tucking your face into the curve of his neck. You sit on the couch and he follows, desperate not to lose your touch. “Just… we’ll stay like this.”
He nods. He can’t say no when you kiss his neck feather-lightly, when your skin is pressed to his like this. He hasn’t had contact like this in years. He’ll prolong it as long as he can.
You do stay like that, relaxed and curled into each other. His arm wraps around you and you curl into a ball, nestled into his side. It’s been a long day for Din, you know, but the depth of it occurs to you as his breathing slows and his muscles relax.
He’s fallen asleep in your arms. You press a soft kiss to his neck and set a timer on the wrist-comm you’re wearing, so that you’ll both wake while it’s still dark in the room. For now, he deserves his rest. His face nuzzles into your hair, and he gives a soft sigh in his sleep. Yes, this is exactly what the beskar warrior needed: rest and you.
-
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or the one where you forget harry’s birthday and try desperately to make it up to him
just wanted to write something small to try to get back into writing after my break! thank you all for your encouragement, excitement, and patience and I apologize for it being a few days later than I wanted it to be! this is probably the closest to angst that you’ll ever get from me :)
thank you to @1980holland, @summertimestyles, @tbslenthusiast, @bigspoonstyles, @angryinternetduck, and @iconicharry for letting me run my ideas by you and being so kind in general. more thanks to @tbslenthusiast and @bigspoonstyles for being the most wonderful beta readers and just lovely friends overall!
this is another part of my dad!harry series so as always they are linked in order if you want to re-visit them or read from the beginning if you choose to!
⭐ I Want Your Belly ⭐ Wonderful and Warm ⭐ Washed Away in You ⭐ Do You Want to Build a Snowman? ⭐ A Styles Family Christmas ⭐
word count: 3.6k
“Harry, I’m running late do you think you could drop Sterling off at the sitter’s on your way to set?”
You’re already dressed, pulling on your shoes and grabbing your bag and keys from where they were tossed next to the dresser from the evening before. You dart into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth.
Harry pokes his head around the doorframe, a wrinkled shirt in his hand, rushing through his own morning routine, “Thought she was coming here?”
“She can’t today, remember? Today’s our day to drop him off.” You put your toothbrush away just as he joins you, taking the toothpaste from your hand to use for himself.
“Alright, yeah. Y’ll have to pick him up later though, think it’ll be a late one for me today.”
“That’s fine. I’ll throw his bag together and leave it by the door for you to grab on the way out. He’s already been fed and changed so he should be all set. I’ll transfer his car seat to your car too, so you won’t have to worry about that.”
He still has the toothbrush in his mouth, so you stand on your tiptoes to give him a peck to the cheek, adding a “bye, love you!” on your way out the bathroom door.
“Wait..y’don’t have anything else to say to me before you leave?” His mouth now rinsed, he crosses his arms and leans against the doorway, a tired smile working its way across his lips.
“Um..be careful? Don’t drive too fast with Sterling in the car.”
“I never drive fast,” He takes a quick peek in the mirror, running his hands through his messy curls before turning back to you, “S’that all? Nothing else to say?”
You search your brain, trying to remember anything else you may have forgotten, “Oh! Right..”
His face lights up then, thinking maybe he was gonna finally hear the words he’d been waiting all morning to hear from you.
“Make sure you tell the sitter there’s an extra pacifier in the right side of his bag that she can leave there in his cubby in case we ever forget one..and that I’ll drop a pack of diapers and wipes off when I pick him up cause I know he’s running low.”
His brow furrows slightly with disappointment, but you’re too busy to notice, blowing him another kiss before rushing out the door of your shared bedroom and down the hall to get Sterling’s bag ready.
He’s still pouting as he opens his top drawer to select a pair of socks for the day.
He couldn’t believe you forgot it was his birthday.
In your opinion, 6 weeks was not long enough for maternity leave. You’re sure no amount of time in your happy bubble with Harry and Sterling would’ve been enough.
You were somehow able to push those 6 weeks to 12, your boss kindly agreeing to let you do what work you could from home. Eventually, that extension had to come to an end though and there was no other way you could avoid returning to ‘normal’ life.
You’re an hour into your work day but you still can’t shake the feeling that you had truly forgotten something. Harry’s words from the morning ring through your head again and again but you still couldn’t pinpoint what was special about this particular day. It was a Monday..was there some sort of significant anniversary from your relationship over the years, something small but important to him?
You grab your phone when you have a chance, a quick lull in your morning that allows you to scroll through your phone’s calendar to double check anything your phone may have not yet notified you about. There’s nothing saved, and it does nothing to jog your memory of what importance today’s date holds.
A text from Anne comes through and your heart stops when you read the message: Tell the birthday boy his present from me is on the way! I was a day later than I should’ve been sending it out so hope he won’t be too upset with me. All my love to you and Sterling as well!
No. Oh no. Guilt bubbles up through your chest and you cover your mouth to stop from cursing too loudly and scaring your nearby coworkers. You have to steady your hand so you can navigate your way through your contacts to Harry’s number, trying to calculate where in his schedule for the day he may be now. It was too early for him to be taking a lunch break, but you silently prayed he would be on a break in between filming scenes that would allow him to answer.
He had told you in the past that even if he wasn’t able to have his phone with him, it was always nearby. Especially now that you had Sterling, he tried to make himself available no matter how busy his schedule would be for the day. Even if he wasn’t able to answer, he would always make time to call back.
So when you try 2 times with no success of getting through, you stop. You had both agreed before that 3 calls was your distress signal, and you didn’t want his mind to think the worst when he did see you’d tried to get through to him. A text seems too informal, too little for the man you love and adore. He deserved better than that, better than you, a partner who forgot one of the most important days where he should be made to feel special and loved every second.
It wasn’t like you didn’t know this day was coming, you did, of course you did. Being a new parent had well and truly ruined your memory. Turns out birthing a tiny human requires learning a ton of new information to keep your little one alive, meaning that even almost 3 months later your brain hadn’t been fully restored and you weren’t sure if it ever would be.
How could you make up for something like this? You suppose you could pretend that it was all a joke; that you’d had this elaborate plan all along to surprise him and make him think that you had forgotten his birthday. But you couldn’t lie to him like that, it would only cause you to hate yourself even more later for covering it up. Plus, Harry knew you too well and would see right through that, and then whatever hurt you’re sure he was feeling now would only grow.
You know he would eventually forgive you, if he hadn’t already, but that didn’t stop guilt from overriding your thoughts. If anything it made you feel almost worse knowing that he would be so incredibly forgiving.
God, you could only imagine the reaction of the fans if they found out. Some of them already had some questionable opinions about you, a few even going so far as to speculate if Sterling was truly Harry’s child, claiming that you had somehow “trapped” Harry into a relationship with you and that it would eventually fail. Harry had tried to ban you from going too deep, but sometimes your curiosity got the best of you, prompting you to scroll through Twitter or Instagram occasionally. It usually ended with you getting your feelings hurt and Harry having to remind you once again to stay away.
You try to find something in your memory, anything that he may have mentioned wanting (or at this point even needing) over the past few months. Aside from the mundane, everyday things like laundry detergent and shampoo to add to the shopping list, you couldn’t recall a thing. You only had 6 hours before you had to pick up Sterling, so you had to come up with something fast, something amazing.
What do you get for the golden boy who has everything?
You couldn’t believe you didn’t think of it before. It was something you had discovered not long after Sterling’s birth, but like many other things it had gotten easily dismissed and pushed down to the bottom of your list.
Today, it only takes a few clicks through the website, a double checking of the spelling of the name that will be on the certificate, and a quick selection of a location for where you want it to be for Harry to now be the (hopefully) proud owner of his very own star in the sky.
After all it was Harry who found the name Sterling for your child, it was him who whispered “buonanotte nostra piccola stella” each night as he helped you put Sterling to bed; a phrase he had been most pleased with himself for learning, the Italian to English translation being “goodnight our little star”. If he couldn’t be there to say it, he made sure you knew the proper enunciation of the expression so that you could pass it along from him. It was always followed by 3 kisses to the top of his son’s head.
Thankfully, you were able to use the printer at work to print out the certificate and the map, slipping them both into a manilla envelope and tucking it away in your bag before you clock out for the day. Though you wished you had time to stop and select a nice frame, you only have 30 minutes before having to pick up Sterling, so you opt for a speedy trip to the nearest bakery and grocery store to gather what other supplies you’ll need for the rest of the evening.
By the time you and Sterling make it home, you still haven’t heard anything from Harry. You send up another silent prayer, more for his safety than anything, but also selfishly for yourself and his forgiveness towards you. It wasn’t unusual for you to not hear from him most days, and you remind yourself of his words from that morning about most likely having to work late.
You push away the guilt that threatens to invade your thoughts again, doing what you need to do for Sterling to keep him content while you start preparations for dinner. Once you have him settled in his swing nearby, you take a moment to scroll through your music selection on your phone, deciding that having something playing in the background would be better than being alone with your thoughts while you work.
You’ve just washed the veggies to chop for the salad when your phone dings, indicating a new message. You know it’s from Harry, and you’re almost scared to look. Instant relief floods your body when you do have the courage to take a peek: Home in an hour. Love you! Give bub kisses from me xx
The “love you” fills you with overwhelming comfort; takes you back to the day you first met him and how your heart skipped a beat when you realized it was you he was trailing through the crowd of people to approach, a cozy smile plastered on his face. You’ll never forget the gentle way he had spoken and how even though you were surrounded by at least a hundred other people at the party, he didn’t take his eyes off you the whole night. You let out a huge sigh of breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in and contemplate the best way to respond, finally concluding that simple was better.
Be careful, baby. Love you more!! Bubs and I miss you
His text gives you more motivation than you already had to power through making his favorite meal for him. An hour is plenty of time to get everything done, so when Sterling gets fussy and wants to be held, you tuck him against your side, doing what you can with one hand while keeping a tight grip on your son. You know he had missed you when he almost instantly relaxes at being close to you, and your heart hurts at the thought of ever being away from him again, even for something important like your job.
It still takes you a minute to get him calm enough to rest his head on your shoulder, so you don’t hear the sound of the door, or the clink of Harry’s keys or the sound of his footsteps falling down the hallway.
“Need some help, lovie?”
His voice, which normally calms you, nearly makes you jump out of your skin. So when you turn and say, “I thought you said an hour!” it comes out more like an attack than grateful to see him again.
“S’what I thought but we rushed through so I could leave earlier. Is that a problem?” His face is unreadable, somewhere between confused and disappointed with your tone.
“No! Of course not, Harry, I just..” That’s when your voice breaks, your guilt and emotions of forgetting his birthday finally being too much to hold back.
“Hey, don’t do that,” He’s moving the rest of the way through the kitchen to you, a hand smoothing a small circle over your back as you try to wipe your tears, “Please don’t cry.”
“I just wanted to have everything ready by the time you got home, to make up for this morning. For forgetting it was your birthday in the first place. I’m so sorry, H.”
“You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, angel. You don’t have to make anything up to me. We’ve both been crazy busy lately, I’m surprised I even remembered what day it was. Here, why don’t I put Sterling in his swing and help you finish dinner?”
“No, absolutely not. It’s your birthday and I know you’re tired. Plus, I think he missed us today. You know how much he loves his swing but I didn’t get very much done before he got upset.”
“Alright, well, I’ll take him while you get everything else done. How’s that sound?”
You nod an agreement at his plan, transferring Sterling from your shoulder to his. There’s a few whimpers of disapproval, but he lets out a small sigh of contentment once he realizes it’s Harry who holds him now. Harry turns his head to smack a few kisses to the baby’s cheek to further pacify him. Sterling’s eyes open briefly, gazing sleepily up at his father.
“Hi, bub, missed you. Let’s go see what kind of trouble we can get into while Mummy makes dinner, huh?”
“Not too much trouble, boys. It’s almost bedtime,” He winks at you as he turns to leave and you stop him, “Hey, wait, try this. Tell me if it needs anything.”
You stir a spoon through the pasta sauce you’ve had simmering away on the stove, bringing it to his lips with a hand underneath, careful not to drip it down the front of his white button-up or the top of Sterling’s head. He lets you feed him the spoonful, but doesn’t take his eyes off your lips. Before you even have time to ask him how it is, he’s trapping his mouth against yours, a satisfied hum at the sauce mixing with the taste of you.
“Delicious.” He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, catching a bit of sauce that ended up smudged at the corner of his mouth.
“Really?”
“Really, darling, it’s perfect.”
At this point it’s obvious he’s not talking about the sauce, and you push yourself up to plant another kiss on his lips.
“Another,” He gently demands, and you oblige, but he doesn’t pull away yet, “C’mon, few more.”
“Looks like Sterling’s not the only needy baby in this house tonight. How many more kisses do you need?”
He smirks down at you, “It’s my 27th birthday, innit? Think I deserve 27 kisses, don’t you?”
You send him away with the promise of fulfilling his request for the rest of his kisses later, finally able to rush through finishing the last of what was needed to complete the meal and call him back to see the table full of everything you’ve prepared.
Sterling is bright eyed in Harry’s arms again, and you hope that feeding him will lull him back to sleep for the night. With him having to stay with a sitter on the days that you and Harry were both working, you’d recently had to switch to using bottles for some of his meals. The sitter had assured you that he was adjusting to the bottle well when he was with her, but it had been a frustrating transition for you.
“You’ve just spoiled him to the usual way, love. It’ll get easier. Want me to try?” He holds out his hand, offering to take the bottle and Sterling back, but you refuse. You know Harry’s right, it will get easier eventually, but right now you know he’s just still tired and hungry. So you give in, lifting your shirt and tossing a blanket over him while he eats.
“Eat so you can blow out your candles and then open your present.”
He sets a plate of food in front of you and passes you a fork so you can eat with your free hand.
His mouth is full of food but his green eyes light up when he looks at you, “I have a present?”
“Of course you do. It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”
“Can we skip cake and do the present first?”
You giggle at his excitement, but the truth is you’re nervous. You know he will be nice enough to tell you he loves it, but you also know him well enough to read the truth on his face.
“Sure, birthday boy, whatever you want.” Sterling’s finished eating by now so you rest him on your shoulder, tapping his back a few times until you hear a small burp. Harry’s plate is mostly empty now, as is yours, so you tuck Sterling into his swing while you go to retrieve the envelope from earlier in the day. Your heart races as you may your way back to where he sits at the table, his eyes covered dramatically as he waits.
“You can open,” You slide the envelope in front of him and prop your chin up on one of your hands as you watch his fingers work to open the clasp. The papers sit upside down on the table and you inhale a deep breath as he flips them over. His face is full of curiosity as his eyes scan the page.
“Did you..is this real?”
“Well I’m not sure how official it is but, yes, it’s real.” You take the map from behind the certificate and point out the location, “According to this it’s..”
“Is my star right over our house?” His eyes are wide as he studies the coordinates, “Can we go see if we can see it now?”
How can you say no to that? You let him lead you out the back door of your home and out into the cool air of the night. He only lets go of your hand when he reaches the edge of the yard, pointing straight upwards.
“It’s gotta be that big one, right? That mine, right?” You look over his shoulder down at the map and then back up to where he’s pointing.
“Yep, I think that’s the one. Unless..do you have the map upside down?”
“No! Do I?” He squints his eyes, bringing it closer to his face in an attempt to read it in the dark.
“You definitely did. It’s that one there..to the left of the big one we thought was yours.”
“S’gorgeous, baby,” He tugs your hand until your smushed against his side and he tosses his arm around you, letting out a deep sigh as he continues to stare up at the sky, “Thank you so much.”
“You really like it?” You’ve got both arms wrapped around his middle now, enjoying the feeling of his chest rising and falling.
“I really do, angel. Can’t believe you named a star after me twice.”
“Twice?” You tilt your head upwards to look at his face.
“Yeah. Twice. That one,” He points up again, “My favorite one though, the greatest gift you will probably ever give me, is probably snoring in his swing right about now.”
As sweet as the moment is, you can’t help but snort out a laugh at that, “If he’s anything like you, he’s definitely snoring right now.”
“Hey, I don’t snore!”
“Oh yes, you do. Feel like I’m sleeping in a cave with a bear sometimes.”
That earns you a big, booming laugh from him, and he pulls you even closer to kiss the top of your head. You turn your body to face him, squeezing him once and kissing his chest through his shirt.
“Happy birthday, Harry.”
“Thank you,” He places his hands on either side of your face, thumbs rubbing along your cheeks, a slow smile sneaking its way across his face, “Can I have the rest of my kisses now?”
The next time Anne and Gemma come to visit, he’s sweeping them down to the end of the hallway leading into your living room, to where he now proudly shows them the framed certificate and map sitting side by side on the wall. Of course they had both already heard about it before. The day after his birthday he had spent 10 minutes on the phone with each of them bragging about it. He’s got Sterling in his arms as he shows it off now. He holds him up next to the two frames.
“How lucky am I, huh? Not every man can say they have two stars named after them, can they?”
thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
as always likes, reblogs, replies, and feedback are welcome!
tag list: @1980holland, @summertimestyles, @la-cey, @tbslenthusiast
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guilty | knj x reader | chapter two: incheon mall tube tops
summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?
pairing: namjoon x reader
genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut
rating: 18+
word count: 4.5K
notes: i really hope you guys are enjoying namjoon’s story! i think there will only be one more chapter after this. and like a true unfocused writer i started daydreaming about a yoongi one-shot to go with it? gah, nevermind. i really hope you guys like this and i’d love to hear how you feel one way or another. a huge thanks to my amazing beta @hobi-gif who does a hell of a lot more than just find typos. and all of my love has to go out to @ladyartemesia @ppersonna @taetaewonderland because all three of you are so much more than tumblr friends.
this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.
Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue
**********************
It didn’t matter how hard you tried to hide your sadness, Namjoon saw it.
It didn’t matter how many hushed calls you tried to sneak, or how many smiles you tried to force -- Namjoon saw right through your act from the very beginning. He’d seen enough to know that you were facing some kind of personal battle. He understood enough about you to know that you were far too private to bring it up or ask for help.
He should have asked.
The question sat heavy on the tip of his tongue for weeks. He should have asked on the days he would spot you at your desk, fingers pressed to your temples in frustration. Or on the days when he would catch you staring out the window, mind a million miles away.
He didn’t.
Instead, he let himself be driven to distraction by the way your blouses fit perfectly against the lines of your body. The way your pencil skirts hugged the curve of your hips. How soft your hair looked pulled into the low, loose knot you favored.
He found himself stumbling over his words when you’d quietly slip into meetings to deliver an urgent message or he’d drift off in the middle of conversations just because he’d caught sight of you outside his office door.
So it wasn’t long before what started as a preoccupation turned into a full-blown fixation.
You’d turn up at his request, poised and professional as always -- and he’d be lost in thought, defiling you a thousand different ways in his head. Fantasizing about getting his hands on you, his mouth on you, his teeth on you.
You didn’t deserve that.
That’s why Namjoon kept his mouth shut -- stuck in a maddening cycle of wanting to help you, wanting to know you, just wanting you.
All of it made him feel guilty as hell.
*********************
The new girl is a fucking disaster.
Namjoon has yet to figure out how she manages to be underfoot at the most inconvenient times and simultaneously nowhere to be found when she’s needed. She misplaces files and misses calls and forgets assigned tasks altogether. He’s lost track of the number of times he’s passed her desk to find her taking pictures of herself; lips pouted, angle skewed.
Two weeks ago, she was probably selling tube tops at Incheon Mall and now she’s playing gatekeeper to one of the most powerful men in Seoul. So it’s not her fault that she’s woefully unprepared for this job.
And it’s not her fault that she’s not you.
Namjoon has spent the better part of the morning debating the call he’s about to make, picking up the phone and setting it back down at least half a dozen times. But he’s at the end of his rope, running out of patience and options.
So he swallows his pride and picks up the phone just one more time.
You answer on the first ring.
“Mister Kim.”
God, he’s missed the sound of your voice.
“Good morning,” he starts carefully, clearing his throat. “I’m certain you have a lot on your plate but I was wondering if you could come sit with the new girl for a few minutes. She’s struggling a bit.”
The line is quiet for a moment and Namjoon can practically hear your thoughts on the other end of the line. The ones that say well that’s what you get for replacing your perfectly competent assistant with a child.
“I left notes,” is the quiet reply that comes instead.
“You did.”
“Detailed notes. Written, detailed notes.”
“Yes,” Namjoon agrees, rubbing his fingers across his mouth. “I’m certain they were quite detailed. It’s just that she’s having trouble following those notes because --”
“Because she can’t read?”
Namjoon cringes. Any small hope he had that you weren’t taking your reassignment personally dies with the abrupt delivery of that statement.
“Apparently not,” he admits lamely.
He hears the quiet sigh you take in before answering.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
*************************
There’s a moment -- just after Seokjin has walked through his office door -- when Namjoon catches a glimpse of you.
You are leaned over the new girl’s desk, lips pursed, pointing something out on the computer screen. Namjoon freezes when you look up and lock eyes with him just as the door swings shut.
Christ, is he ever going to be able to look at you without feeling like he’s had the wind knocked out of him?
He turns to find Seokjin staring at him, one brow raised.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon exhales, shoving a hand through his hair as he walks back to his desk. “I’m fine. You said you wanted to talk about something?”
“I do,” Seokjin starts, helping himself to a seat. “Two things, actually. Both pertaining to the amazing new assistant you so generously gifted me.”
Namjoon’s nails dig into the palm of his hand.
“Go on.”
“Apparently she’s some kind of whiz with numbers,” Seokjin continues, unbothered by his strained response. “I gave her a few of the books to look over and she already found a couple of our guys in the Songpa district skimming off the top. I’ll bet there’s even more where that came from and she’ll find it. She’s got a good eye.”
Namjoon feels pride stir in his chest. Yet again, you exceed expectations.
“Send Yoongi and Hoseok to Songpa tonight,” he murmurs. “I’ll be curious to hear what kind of explanation our friends come up with for their lapses in accounting.”
Seokjin nods.
“Will do. So the other thing --” he pauses for a beat, like he’s trying to figure out how to carefully deliver what he has to say next. “I know you asked me to try and figure out what’s going on with her and I think I have. You’re right, she’s struggling with some personal issues.”
Namjoon leans forward in his chair, body rigid.
“Let me hear it.”
*************************
YOU
The new girl is a fucking disaster.
You have yet to figure out why she can’t work the printers or can’t read a simple spreadsheet when you know for fact she knows how to beam her selfies all the way to the goddamned moon.
It’s infuriating.
Just like it’s infuriating to see her seated at what should be your desk, doing what should be your job, working for the man who should be your boss.
Figure shit out, you’d love to tell her. Sink or swim, that’s how the real world works.
The idea of letting her fail so dismally that Namjoon has no choice but to beg for you back is tempting. But then he’d picked up the phone to personally ask you to help.
And apparently you are incapable of denying that man anything.
You’ve stayed late every day this week to review the spreadsheets Seokjin has given you to audit because of the extra time you’ve had to put aside to help the new girl navigate foreign concepts like filing and scheduling.
The numbers tell an interesting story.
The rumors about Kim Namjoon’s skill as a businessman don’t give him enough credit. Money is pouring into the Gajog, hand over fist, from every major district in the city. Billions of won flow into the organization from legitimate and not as legitimate revenue streams alike. Combine the numbers and Kim Namjoon controls an empire worth trillions.
You stare at the sums and your mind flips back to your unexpected pay raise. It’s no wonder Namjoon can afford to be so generous.
It’s no wonder so many of the street-level men who work for him seem to be helping themselves to more than their fair share.
It took you a few days to identify the patterns, comparing the new intake sheets to the old ones, but once you did the missing money practically jumped off the page. Just a few audits in and you’d already been able to find at least 119 million won unaccounted for.
The Kim Namjoon you know is reserved and unflappable -- but this is information that’s bound to piss even him off.
What is a man like him like when he’s angry?
You shudder at the thought.
Before long, the night sky stares back at you from the window across from your desk and you decide it’s well past time you went home. You sort everything into neat piles and leave yourself organized notes before packing up to leave.
***************************
There’s no answer from your mother when you call to her from the hallway.
You frown as you make your way to her bedroom, worry melting away when you find her asleep in her chair. Her head is bent at a sharp angle, and you immediately move to help her prop her up.
Her eyes open to slits, unfocused from sleep and medication.
“Ttal,” she whispers, grimacing as she straightens out the crick in her neck.
“Eomma,” you whisper in a hushed rebuke. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t fall asleep in this chair, it’s terrible for you.”
She nods slowly, pointing to a glass of water on her nightstand. You hand it to her, but it wobbles in her weak grip and you take hold of it to help her drink before setting it aside.
“I’m hurting tonight,” she admits.
“I know,” you sigh, heart breaking. “Come, let me help you into bed.”
The process is painstaking. You help hoist her frail frame out of the chair and over to the side of the bed then work carefully to help her lie back. There’s no meat on her anymore, just skin and bones, so you tuck her blankets carefully around her legs and arms until you’re certain she’s not shivering anymore.
You know this isn’t working.
It doesn’t matter how many calls you make over the course of a day to check in, or how many well-meaning neighbors drop in to help, leaving your mother alone for hours in this state is a dangerous gamble.
You fight back tears of frustration. You grew up without siblings and your father has been gone for years. Being alone is something you’ve had a long time to get used to.
But you’ve still never felt as alone as you do right now.
You think in the quiet for a while, stroking your fingers across your mother’s upturned palm, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do.
Unsure of what comes next.
“Kim Namjoon grew up to be such a handsome man,” your mother rasps.
The steady stroke of your fingers comes to an abrupt halt as the fine hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end.
“Excuse me?”
Your mother doesn’t repeat herself.
“Eomma,” you urge, nudging her hand with yours. “What is this talk of Kim Namjoon?”
Her lips quirk when she closes her eyes like she’s recalling a pleasant memory.
“His mother was beautiful,” she breathes quietly. “God smiled on that boy. He looks nothing like his father.”
The dull panic that’s already started to pulse in your chest sharpens to a point.
She has to be hallucinating.
She has to be taking too much medicine because nothing she’s saying makes any sense. You fumble for the bottles on her nightstand, pulling off the caps and pouring the pills out onto the tabletop. You count them over and over until you’re satisfied your mother hasn’t taken a dangerous amount of drugs.
“Eomma, why are you talking about Kim Namjoon?” you plead. “Help me understand.”
But when you look back to your mother, you realize your words are already falling on deaf ears. She’s slipped back into a sleep state once again.
If only it were that easy for you.
When you finally get to crawl into bed a short while later, you toss and turn all night.
Somewhere in the haze between asleep and awake you dream of Kim Namjoon.
*************************
Your mother’s mental clarity is always better in the morning.
After she’s had a night of rest -- and whatever medicine she’s taken has had some time to wear off -- she’s much more alert, much more like her old self. But you still weren’t able to get anything by way of answers out of her as you made breakfast this morning.
You’d made her favorite cold cucumber soup before carefully broaching the subject of last night’s strange conversation. You’d waited patiently for some kind of explanation about why she mentioned a man she hasn’t spoken of in years.
It didn’t come.
There was something odd about the way your mother went completely quiet at your mention of Namjoon. Something odd about how adamant she was about not having any memory of the conversation at all.
That odd look on her face is the one thought on your mind as you make your way to work in a complete fog. You slip into an open elevator and hit the button for your floor on autopilot.
You don’t even realize that you’re not alone until a soft voice interrupts your thoughts.
“I remember you.”
Your eyes flick up from their unseeing stare at your shoes to a young woman standing against the elevator’s back wall.
“Miss Kim,” you breathe, brushing an errant hair out of your face. Your cheeks are still stinging from the cold. “Good morning.”
Namjoon’s sister is a beautiful woman, without a doubt — but until this moment, you hadn’t realized how much she resembles her brother. They have the same striking features, the same smooth skin and high cheekbones and full lips.
They share the same dark, kind eyes.
“I remember you now,” she repeats, mouth curving into a smile. “I knew I recognized you, but it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I finally connected the dots.”
“Well, I wasn’t around a lot when we were kids,” you admit shyly. “So that’s certainly understandable.”
“That’s true,” she agrees. “And I try not to think back to those times a lot but you made an impression on me. You were always so sweet.”
Your cold cheeks seem to warm at her compliment.
“Thank you.”
The elevator stops at her floor but she seems reluctant to end the conversation. She leans against the door to prop it open.
“My brother,” she asks carefully, “Is he treating you well? Is he a fair boss?”
You clear your throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“Well, he’s not my boss anymore,” you admit. “He replaced me not long ago. But yes, he was very fair when I worked for him.”
Her lips part in a soft gesture of surprise when you deliver that news.
She’s quiet until the elevator blares a loud reminder that it’s time to close the doors. She smiles at you on her way out the door, opting not to comment on the quality of her brother’s staffing decisions.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she murmurs. “But I’m still really glad you’re here.”
****************************
An inviting scent is the first thing you notice when you get home that night.
The second thing you notice are the voices.
You make your way down the long hallway with careful steps, trying to place the sound of the voice coming from your mother’s bedroom. It doesn’t sound like Mrs. Sim -- in fact, it doesn’t sound like anyone you know.
You stop short at the sight that greets you when you round the corner.
A woman -- a complete stranger is in your mother’s room.
You stand frozen in shock as you watch the stranger read to your mother from her seated position in the chair next to the bed. She looks up from the page when she realizes you’re there, giving you a better look at her pleasant, aged face.
“Aish,” she startles, clapping a hand over her chest. “Here I was, worried about scaring you and instead you’re the one giving me a fright.”
It takes you a moment to find your voice.
“Forgive me,” you start weakly, “But who are you? And how did you get into this house?”
The woman stands to adjust the pillow under your mother’s head before meeting you in the doorway. “She’s resting now,” she says, nodding at your mother’s still form on the bed. “Why don’t we talk in the kitchen?”
Should you be screaming right now? Calling the police?
There’s no good explanation for why you do neither and decide instead to follow this complete stranger into your kitchen instead. She walks to the stove to stir whatever she has cooking in the pot.
“Get off those feet,” she admonishes kindly. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”
Again you comply, inexplicably following orders.
“I made Budae Jjigae,” she explains, ladling some of the stew into a bowl. She sets it down in front of you, and you stare back at her like an idiot. The stew smells amazing, and you’re immediately hit with a well-timed hunger pang.
“Who are you?” you ask again.
“My name is Jinjoo,” she replies sweetly, handing you a spoon. “And I work for you now.”
“You work for me,” you repeat slowly.
“I do,” Jinjoo nods. “Mister Kim hired me.”
The spoon clatters loudly against the lip of the bowl when you drop it. For a moment, it’s hard to breathe. You have to wait for the strange sensation that snakes up your spine to subside before you speak again.
“Mister Kim.” You echo her again, dumbly.
Jinjoo takes a seat next to you at the table, radiating a patient kindness that makes you want to give into the urge to trust her. She smiles reassuringly at you, voice soothing when she speaks again.
“Yes. He said you needed help with your mother, and I can understand why. I nursed in hospitals for decades, dear. I can see your mother is in a bad way.”
You blink back at Jinjoo in stunned silence.
“I assure you, I’ll give your mother the best quality care,” she vows, patting one of your hands with her own. “And Mister Kim has already paid me well in advance, so don’t even think about trying to get rid of me.”
That statement almost makes you laugh.
You don’t want to get rid of Jinjoo at all. Ten minutes ago you had no idea she existed and in the span of one conversation she’s become one of the most important people you know. Tears well in your eyes as you stare into your bowl of stew, at a total loss for words.
Jinjoo seems to sense how overwhelmed you are. She gives you some space to process what’s going on, stroking one soft hand over your shoulder when she stands to leave.
“Eat something, dear. I’m gonna go sit with your mother for a while.”
You look up at her with watery eyes and nod, reaching for the spoon.
“This smells really good,” you say softly.
“Well, I’m a great cook. You’ll see,” she promises.
“Jinjoo -- “ you call out after her as she walks away. “Thank you,” you manage, voice thick with emotion. “I can’t thank you enough.”
The corners of her eyes crinkle when her mouth curves into a smile.
“You’re welcome.”
**********************
Jinjoo’s stew was delicious -- not that you had the chance to fully appreciate it.
You’d sat in that kitchen alone for some time, eating slowly while you tried to process yet another bombshell in what seemed to be a series of them. Everything that’s happened to you since Namjoon reassigned you has been a whirlwind; from the sudden pay raise to the sudden arrival of Jinjoo.
You eat the last of the stew with your stomach in knots.
Namjoon knows your mother is sick. And you don’t know how to feel about it.
A part of you feels exposed when you think about him uncovering the sad details of your mother’s health battle. But knowing that he stepped in to help you fight it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in years.
Cared for.
The sound of laughter from your mother’s bedroom echoes down the hall and you stand to follow it.
Her favorite variety show is playing on the small TV in front of her bed, and it appears Jinjoo is a fan, too. You lean in the doorway and watch the women giggle at the silly skit. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard the sound of your mother’s laugh.
It makes you smile.
“Jinjoo, could you give us a moment, please?”
You almost hate to interrupt the instant camaraderie between the two women but you recognize that your mother is in the midst of a rare moment of clarity. You have to strike while the iron is hot.
“Of course,” she agrees, standing.
You wait until the sound of her footsteps fades away before taking her place in the worn chair next to your mother’s bed. Your mother smiles at you, taking one of your hands into her own.
You squeeze her fingers gently.
“Eomma, no more secrets,” you murmur. “Tell me the truth. Did Kim Namjoon come here?”
Your mother swallows thickly before nodding.
“He asked me not to tell you,” she admits. “He said he didn’t want you to refuse his help.”
You shut your eyes and imagine Namjoon in your home, in this room. Speaking to your mother. Making plans to send Jinjoo. Your chest squeezes so tight that for a moment it’s hard to breathe.
“Okay,” you concede quietly. You maintain the appearance of careful calm because you don’t want to make your mother feel worse than she already does., “It’s alright Eomma, I’m not angry, I promise.”
A peculiar look passes over her face. Her eyes dart away from yours and that’s all it takes for you to know you don’t have the full story. You decide to toughen your stance.
“Look at me, Eomma,” you say firmly. “If there’s anything I don’t know, you need to tell me right now. I need to know all of it. Everything.”
“I -- “
“Just tell me what it is,” you repeat, patience hanging by a thread.
Your mother sighs, lifting one weak hand in the direction of her dresser. You turn to stare at the pile of papers stacked there, realization dawning in an instant. You move on unsteady legs to walk over and take hold of them.
Radiology, pulmonology, chemotherapy.
You know exactly how much is owed on each of those bills because the numbers are burned into your mind. Those numbers are the reason you leave your mother for hours on end every day to go to work. Those numbers are the reason why it’s so hard to sleep at night.
You don’t realize that your hands are shaking until you hear the papers rustling.
Every bill bears the same neat, handwritten marking.
paid -- knj
***************************
NAMJOON
Namjoon watched his sister leave early tonight with Hoseok. Seokjin is out to dinner with his wife. And Yoongi is off doing -- well, whatever the hell Yoongi does when he’s not around.
There’s no one here tonight to tell Namjoon to go home. No one to point out that he’s had too much to drink or that it’s happening far too often.
So he pours another scotch.
The glass sweats in his hand as he stands in front of his window, deep in thought.
Thinking about you.
Thinking about the way you struggled in silence, caring for your mother alone -- too proud to ask for help. The way you catered to Namjoon’s every need and whim without ever making mention of yours. The way he’d let it go on for far too long, selfishly wrapped up in the way you made him feel.
“That girl is going to get you killed.”
Namjoon tells himself the sound of your voice is a figment of his imagination, an entirely predictable side-effect of too much scotch. But it’s followed quickly by your soft footsteps against the plush carpet in his office and both sounds are too real to ignore.
He turns to assess you, quietly sipping his drink.
Fuck, you are beautiful.
You have no right turning up here tonight -- looking like that -- testing him when he is at his weakest. Your dark eyes flash with something like a challenge and Namjoon feels his blood warm.
“That girl is never at her desk and she has no idea who’s coming or going,” you accuse quietly. “She’s putting you at risk.”
Namjoon concedes your point with a slow half-smirk that teases the edge of his mouth.
“Perhaps,” he admits. “But there are different kinds of risk. Maybe you put me at risk, too.”
He shouldn’t take pleasure from the way your eyes go wide at that statement. Or from the way you overcompensate by standing taller, chin lifted high.
But he does.
“Mister Kim -- “ you start.
“ -- Namjoon,” he interrupts. “Don’t you think it’s time you called me Namjoon? Haven’t we known one another since we were kids?”
“Namjoon,” you correct yourself, taking a deep breath. “I know about everything. Jinjoo, the bills, all of it.”
Namjoon says nothing for a moment, draining his glass before setting it down on his desk with a heavy thud.
“Why?” you ask quietly. “Why did you do this for me?”
Because I would do anything for you.
He doesn’t voice that thought out loud. He knows he shouldn’t.
But he also knows he shouldn’t be closing the distance between you right now, and he’s doing that anyway. He steps closer, quietly, and you swallow hard, thrown by his silence and his advance.
“That’s not -- that’s not something you do for an employee,” you protest, slowly backing away. You stop only when the ledge of his desk hits you on the backside.
“The late nights and the extra hours. Everything else you did,” Namjoon murmurs, stepping close, chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. “Did you do that for your boss? Or did you do that for me?”
He leans closer, caging your body against his desk. Your lips part in surprise and Namjoon forces himself not to react when your tongue slips out to wet them.
“Namjoon, I -- ” your voice is barely above a whisper when you find it. “-- I don’t understand you right now.”
“How could I have every resource at my fingertips and not help you?” he asks, reaching one hand out to cup your face. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips and you shudder under his touch. “Why didn’t you come to me when you knew I could help?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, pupils blown and cheeks flushed.
“You should have come to me,” he admonishes quietly. You lean into the touch of his hand. “I would have given you anything you asked for. Anything.”
“I understand that,” you say quietly, the tremor in your voice betraying your attempt at calm. “Because I would give you anything you asked for, too.”
Something about the way you say that snaps Namjoon back to reality.
He looks down at you like he’s only just now realized that he’s loaded on scotch, leaning you over his desk -- and well on his way to taking advantage of this situation. He tenses, pulling away.
“This is -- this is not --” he sputters pathetically for a moment. “Go home,” he pleads. “Please.”
He’s never hated himself as much as he does right now -- when you’re looking up at him with hurt and confusion in those wide, dark eyes.
“Go home before I do something I can’t take back.”
************************
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#8A4961 | BANG CHAN.
genre | werewolf au, questionable fluff
word count | 2016
warning | mention of injury, mention of poison
the pocket knife in your hand was bloodied with the werewolf hunter's blood, but all you could do as you run the opposite direction from where you were once walking toward was to pray that the wounded hunter, and his friends, did not catch a glimpse of your face.
chan has shifted to his wolf form shortly after the bullet poked through his chest. despite his strong resistance to losing control, whenever emergencies arise, such as being exposed by hunters in a local bar during a quiet drink, even a mighty alpha like him would take precaution and howl to the moon for strength.
chan had no idea where those men came from. he has never seen the likes of them, and he thought he knew all of his enemies already. were those new people? if they were, why have there not been any words spread between packs about this? this is no ordinary matter, this is about a hunting group, a common enemy—he would know if someone new came along.
you made a lucky stab to the closest man when you found out they meant harm, then you jumped off the wooden stool and raced out the bar with chan, who bolted the door to the bar with the heavy, decorative logs placed just outside as a waiting area.
you two did not make it far before a whimper left chan. you paused immediately at the pitiful noise and you turned around to find him barely standing on four paws, wheezing and whimpering with slow, heavy breaths.
widening your eyes when he fell to the side, you rushed toward him, sliding across the snow in the process. you knelt next to him. your weak hands were unable to lift his body when you wanted to examine his wounds, so you resulted in shifting through his furs carefully to find the bullet hole.
you knew there was nothing you could do, there was nothing you knew how to do. staying with seungmin, a beta your age who specializes in herbs and medicine, has taught you nothing about dealing with injuries. but if you could just take a look, you could access how severe it is and plan from there.
"ah–found it!" you brightened up when you found a trace of veins, but as quickly as your smile came, as quickly as it went. that was not the bullet wound, those strong veins were the aftermath of it—the aftermath of a poisoned bullet.
to kill an alpha, a simple bullet would never be enough, not even when he takes it to the heart.
even though you never understood why the killing was not necessary; people are so afraid of potential threats, it is almost stupid, especially when dealing with it causes more loss than letting it be.
"okay, it's okay, let's just... let's find a place to hide and rest," you huffed out quietly, looking around the foggy, snowy forest with furrowed brows, trying to find a way out.
your heart dropped when you found lanterns flashing at a distance.
the hunters were already here.
you saw chan's eyes shift downward, his ears flapping gently. he must have heard the sound of footsteps, or he sniffed out their malicious scent from all the way over there. either way, he was not happy with their approach, and he showed it by letting out a tantrum-like huff.
"it's going to be fine," you told him, but you were more so trying to comfort yourself when you realized chan may soon lose the complete ability to stay conscious and you would be left alone in a foreign tree maze. you slid your hands under his body and struggled to tuck him upwards. "come on, just try to stand, please."
chan complied with your request. he moved slowly, his legs bending and his feet anchored on the ground. he whimpered again when he added pressure to stand, and he fell almost immediately after his attempt. you barely caught him, and your yelp turned the lantern lights toward you.
he gruffed out when he heard the footsteps quicken toward you. he could hear their conversations: talking about your whereabouts, talking about the werewolf in a man's disguise, talking about his faceless companion who could be a potential liability, talking about taking the alpha's weakness.
his gaze sharpened. evidence kept being added to his theory. the fact that he has never seen nor heard of these hunters only proved that they could be sent through a rival pack who deliberately hid the information from them. now, with all this weakness talk? it only reinforced his theory.
chan looked away from the lantern lights to you. your frightened expression made his heart clench—the same expression you held when he found you hiding in your small closet after you got chased down the block and had your apartment door kicked open. the fact that he has to see it again made him fume with anger, and he couldn't think of much else but this: nobody takes you. absolutely nobody takes you, no matter what.
he already killed those who tried once, he will not hesitate to do it again.
"i am so sorry, but please just endure it a little more," you said, mistaking the nudging of his leg as a sign of pain spreading. turning to the approaching light, your breath quickened and you cursed.
think fast, think fast! do something!
you had refused to train to learn how to fight better, and you were unable to participate in meetings of private pack matters. you knew nothing about farming, or hunting for food, or cooking and knitting. you were practically useless, to be harsh, but because of chan, you still have a spot in the pack, a home.
you still stayed with chan's pack despite being traditionally unwelcomed as a human. for what reason, you never knew. some suspected that you may be the alpha's mate, or because chan was just being more generous than usual.
either way, everyone has treated you politely at best, some friendlier and more docile than others. you still have a place to sleep and food to eat. you were still alive right now. and it was all because of chan. he doesn't seem to like you, but he kept you safe nonetheless.
the least you could do was think of a plan. you owe it to him to not panic.
"i–i got something! just move a little for me, chan, please?" you said as you tugged at his torso and attempted to drag him with you. "just to the tree here, really close, please?"
he huffed questioningly but complied. he didn't stand to walk, he wasn't able to. his heightened senses could feel the silver poison spreading through his veins, burning and burning to weaken his system.
all he could do was dig his claws into the ground and drag his body as you pull onto him. it took three big strides for you two to arrive at a snow-covered tree. when you two were there, you immediately took off your jacket and draped it over him.
chan grumbled in protest when you pulled him toward your chest. you snuggled him against you, covering his wound and making it appear as if you were just someone sitting under a tree with a sleeping wolf.
"this is going to work," you muttered to yourself, "we are going to be okay."
the swaying of the lantern sounded—the noise of a door creaking, the sound of a high-pitched rusty gear. the circle light expanded until they were blinding your eyes. it moved away with a creak of the rusty lantern and standing before you was the hunter you remember you nicked with your blade, holding a shotgun in his hand.
"hello? did you need some help?" you asked first, attempting to establish an upper hand in the situation.
it was possible that your face was not discovered at the bar, and there was also a possibility that chan was only known in his human form. you could pass off as a normal residence in this area who is friends with a wolf, that was all.
"this forest is pretty big, it is very easy to get lost," you said with a laugh. "i learned it the hard way."
the hunter raised his brow, suspicious but not backing down yet. he tilted his head, nudging it to the side. "really? i suppose you know how to navigate through it, then?"
you shook your head calmly, a hand sifting through chan's fur. "no, but my friend here does."
"a friend?" he questioned, glaring to the side when his friends snickered under their breath in disbelief. "a wolf is hardly a friend."
"only if you fail to domesticate it."
chan deadpanned quietly. he knew better than to protest loudly at such a thin-ice situation. but please, him? an alpha? being domesticated? what a joke!
"what are you doing here?" ignoring your remark, the hunter asked, to which you sneered gently and sighed.
"i asked you first," you said. "do you need help? this is a big forest."
chan twitched beneath your jacket. you spared him no glance but ran a hand through his fur to soothe him. tilting your head, you flashed an impatient look, urging someone to talk.
"we are... we are looking for two people. one of them a man with–"
"didn't see them. i was sleeping," you interrupted.
"uhm, we followed a trail of footprints and they lead us right to you," he said, gesturing toward the ground where the footprints stopped right at where you two left off.
you raised a brow then, your heart palpitating strongly. but you took a short look at the snowy ground and you relaxed. pulling chan's warm body against you, you slumped closer to the ground and faked a yawn.
"look at the prints, sir," you muttered, "do they look like they came from two people, or one person and one wolf?"
"you guys walked into the wrong forest, sir," you said after a plop of silence. "there are only me and the wolves here."
the man lightly dropped his hand. you raised a fair point, unfortunately for them. despite his suspicion, capturing you both on the spot would be a bad look for them. not to mention, this area is known to have normal wolves littering around befriending humans—more people would believe in your faux innocence than their werewolf story.
"alright then," he voiced, deciding to call the hunt off now. "still, you should be cautious around wolves. they are loyal only to their own, and you are not their own, if you understand what i mean."
chan eyed up at the men. there was a low growl in his throat, the hostility spreading through his instinct to protect your rightful place in the pack, as well as to protest their assumption that you will ever be hurt by his hands.
you kept silent as they took their leave. your mind lingered at the hunter's words, realizing that a part of you knew you thought of what he said before he told you. you could not possibly be considered as their own, after all.
"chan..." you called, "when will i outgrow my welcome in the pack...?"
he shifted, a whimper leaving his lips. his healing ability is ultimately weaker in his human form, but he felt that if he stayed in his wolf form to maintain as much health as he could, he would miss an opportunity to make you feel better. sometimes words do speak louder than action, especially when the action is unclear and ambiguous to the receiver.
“no...”
steam flowed upwards when chan shifted back to his human form. his clothes were long gone since they got torn apart after his shift. pressing his head to your shoulder to mask the pain in his chest, he huffed, “no.”
that was not a yes or no question, but you understood.
“okay,” you said. “let’s get you home now.”
chan nodded weakly. however you planned to do that, he has no idea.
#skzwritersclub#inkidz#stayhavennet#chan imagines#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#chan x reader#chan x you#chan x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x reader#skz x you#skz x reader#skz x y/n#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#chan scenarios#chan blurbs#stray kids blurbs#skz blurbs#stray kids#skz#chan#bang chan
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The Miys, Ch. 146
Whew, on a roll with queuing these up! Kind of proud of myself.
Speaking of proud... So many familiar names in the notes this week! Y’all are giving me a huge smile during a super busy week/month. Work has been bananas, weekends have been insane, and knowing that all of you are reading and enjoying the story gives me the encouragement I need to keep writing and to make the effort to keep the quality as consistent as possible.
All of you literally encourage me to take care of myself :) Thank you so much.
And, always, thank you to @baelpenrose, @charlylimph-blog, and @the-raven-fae, for everything you do, from beta-reading, to giving me stuff to read, to just keeping me reasonably sane.
I huffed as I put down the box of blankets in our new quarters. With our expected drop from hyperspace getting closer, we had finally been assigned quarters closer to the Archives. Xiomara and Tyche had both told me I was being ‘too nice’ by having Maverick put in the transfer request rather than doing it myself, but I still didn’t think it was fair to use my unwilling position on the Council as leverage to get bumped to the front of the line. After all, we had a few months to go, and with everything else going on, it wasn’t like I was in a hurry.
“Conor, be careful!” Maverick scolded as a box of dishes landed on the regrettably-smaller counter. “You’ll break them!”
“Mav, I love you to pieces,” Conor grunted and stretched his back. “But I want to point out again that we can just recycle broken ones and request new ones.” Completely contradictory to his own words, he wrapped the other man in a crushing hug and whispered something in his ear.
When Maverick gave him a skeptical look, Conor opened the box and pulled out a chipped plate. “The ones on the bottom are the ones with no chips, cracks, or stains. Promise.”
Hang on. “You let Conor pack the dishes, but you only let me pack the blankets?!” I was honestly hurt.
Maverick kicked the floor gently, his way of showing embarrassment. “I was worried I would break them, and you know how attached I am to the chipped plates, and I knew he wouldn’t get rid of them….”
“Baby,” I whispered. “Babe. It’s okay. I like the chipped ones, too. I would never get rid of those…” I held out a hand to see if he was receptive to a hug. When he tugged my hand, I squished his waist the best I could.
“You’re so particular with the clothes, though…”
“Because I despise pills against my skin.” I shuddered at the thought. “They feel… dirty.”
I could feel him shudder in agreement. “They do, don’t they?”
Conor gave us both a squish and shook his head, chin rubbing against us both. “Just leave my shirts alone, yeah?”
Maverick’s agreement with my philosophy nearly vibrated my soul. He never notices when we replace the pit-stained ones, it’s all okay. We both casually replaced the never-ceasing rotation of Conor’s white shirts when they were dirty past the point of laundering, but made a point to leave the permanently grungy coveralls until they either gained enough sentience to run away or fell apart in despair.
“Your shirts and Brenda, promise,” I tried to swear as solemnly as possible. ‘Brenda’ was the tilandsia xerographica that he had gifted me that first Insert Winter Holiday. She was currently twelve inches, and was the third love of Conor’s life.
He nodded before releasing us. “Mav, the silverware is still by the door so you can make sure everything is in the right place. Sophia, I’ll put up the clothes if you’ll sort where you want the blankets.” Without another word, he palmed the thermostat control and adjusted it to the agreed-upon settings we had maintained for years in our shared quarters. “Head’s up, once I get the clothes sorted, I gotta go help Sam and Derek move.”
My neck cramped from the speed I whipped around to look at him. “Derek and Sam are moving?”
Maverick nodded, his chin against my scalp. “They mutually requested relocation to stay in similar proximity to our quarters… specifically to Mac.”
I rolled my eyes. “It is absolutely to be close to Mac. Not my blanket, not soup on tap, not Conor’s plants - “
“They’re your plants, love.”
“Tell the plants that,” I joked. “You keep them alive.”
He muttered something that sounded distinctly like ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ as he gently set a box under Brenda’s stand and started unpacking spritz bottles, fertilizers, and the world’s tiniest pruning shears.
I can honestly say I did not laugh. With the exception of the shears, all six spray bottles, the soaking tub, and the three different fertilizers had actually lived with me longer than he had. “The point is that I’m sure they aren’t just moving to be closer to Mac… he roams the entire Ark, so it’s a pretty lame excuse.”
Maverick and Conor both shrugged before the former spoke. “Sam likes how you cook his produce. And it’s a long walk from our previous quarters.”
“I am not going to apologize that his strawberries go better in ketchup, or that his tomatoes make amazing ice cream,” I waved off. “I know it’s a side effect of using the known composition of Von’s soil and light, but… the strawberries are orange. Like a bell pepper.”
“But the tomato soup from his tomatoes is amazing,” Conor granted. “None of us even like tomato soup.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “The one recipe you like, Sophie, proves my point, it’s not an argument. It’s the only recipe you don’t….” He gestured vaguely. “You know.”
“Zhuzh,” I provided. “I don’t zhuzh it.”
Somewhat out of nowhere, Maverick sat down in the new but familiar armchair and asked, “Is it expected to have a housewarming when you live in the same… building… ship… thingie… but moved quarters?”
“I - “ Gaping, I turned to them both. “I’m not sure. I mean… we celebrated when you two moved into my quarters, but that was more a… wedding-slash-engagement thing. Have we been invited to any for just moving?”
Conor shrugged. “All the moves were done in the first few years to settle down. Nothing like this.”
I tapped my chin before pulling up my datapad. “I’m seeing that a total of fifty people - fifty, really? - have been relocated, just to be closer to the Archives.” I took a couple of deep breaths. “I know it’s the furthest Protection Zone from the rest of the ship, but there are only fifteen people sheltering there, not counting Tyche and Alistair.”
Maverick gaped at me before waving both hands widely. “You moved, so a total of five people relocated down here, which we were just discussing, and you don’t understand how fifteen people turned into fifty?” He scowled. “Sophie, I know you can do math.”
I glared at him. “Given the nature of relationships on the Ark, I thought it would be higher, smartass.” I leaned over to kiss his chin. “But that also makes me think… block party? Take the pressure off of us?”
Conor looked thoughtfully at both of us. “I think we should put up curtains, or - you know, soft barriers, something visible but easy to navigate - for the apartments where folks can duck and cover from being wound up too much?”
He had a good point. “Just to be clear,” I ventured, “you just mean the apartments that people already know they can duck into?”
Conor’s enthusiastic nod dropped mine and Mav’s shoulders by a solid two inches. “Yeah, color code them or put proximity alerts on them, something. I don’t think anyone overstimmed wants to wander into a room full of strangers, right? Derek would know he can walk in here, straight to our bed, pile up under the blankets, and he’s fine, but… what if he walks into another person’s bedroom? Fuck all, I’ll kill someone.”
He had a point. I hated that he had a point, but he was right.
“We’re purple, right?”
Conor and Maverick collectively rolled their eyes hard enough to make my head cramp. “Duh,” was the only response Maverick gave, while Conor just shook his head.
It was only a week later that they had the door to our old quarters repainted and retextured, and had the doors to our new quarters painted screaming purple with green and black stripes. Just to be clear, apparently.
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#the miys#found family#humans are weird#science fiction#aliens#apocalypse#humans are space orcs#humans are space fae#earth is space australia#post apocalypse#post post apocalypse#original science fiction#original sci fi#original writing
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Teen Wolf triads are something that can be so personal, so here’s a list of my faves
Scott/Stiles/Allison
The OG trio. The gang that dies together might not stay together, but they’re still iconic.
Scott/Stiles/Lydia
Any Scott/Stiles/X dynamic is brilliant, but few more than this one. These three have been there since the beginning and they’ve gone through so much together. There’s no Teen Wolf without them.
Scott/Stiles/Derek
They were the driving force in S1&2 and had some absolutely iconic moments together. Hate that there wasn’t more of them after that.
Scott/Derek/Isaac
Mostly based on S2/3. I was very invested in Isaac’s struggle to pick between these two.
Scott/Stiles/Isaac
This triad’s dynamic completely changes between S2 and 3. In Season 2, Isaac, as part of Derek’s pack is a slightly antagonistic figure and it’s very much Scott&Stiles vs Isaac but in S3, Scott and Isaac grow closer while Isaac and Stiles erm, don’t. It’s very fun to watch.
Scott/Isaac/Allison
My ot3 and the only trio on this list that I 100% ship.
Isaac/Erica/Boyd
Ayy, it’s the OG Hale Pack aka 3 teens bonding over being thrown headfirst into something they weren’t prepared for and Derek’s horrible leadership. Isaac should’ve ran away with Erica and Boyd for solidarity’s sake.
Chris/Allison/Isaac
Chris’s struggle between hating Isaac for dating his daughter and wanting to adopt him is hilarious. One of my favourites.
Scott/Melissa/Isaac
Who didn’t completely melt at Isaac joining the McCall fam? The scene where they’re ‘guarding’ Melissa was so cute. As a bonus, it made Stiles’s animosity towards Isaac that much stronger. Will forever hate that this trio was more or less non-existent in 3b even though I love Chris/Allison/Isaac.
Derek/Cora/Peter
The non-dead Hales. Why oh why did Cora have to leave? Their family dynamic was great.
Allison/Lydia/Cora
I know they only had a couple scenes as a triad, but there was so potential. We love antagonism with underlying sexual tension. And ofc, the only thing better than 1 terrifying badass that can secretly be super sweet is 3 terrifying badasses.
Derek/Isaac/Boyd
At one point, the only non-dead members of the Hale Pack (TW quickly amended that). I always think of the S3a Loft scene where Boyd and Isaac skip school to protect Derek. Despite how awful of an alpha Derek’s been, they still care about him and he cares about them (as actual people and not just betas that he needs for power like he did originally)
Derek/Allison/Lydia.
Yes it’s my 5th s3 based trio in a row, but can you blame me? This is 100% based off the classroom scene in 3x02.
Allison/Lydia/Jackson
Although Lydia and Jackson were both awful in S1, their friendship with Allison and their immediately taking her under their wing was beyond precious. Additionally, it combines both the asshole-who’s-soft-towards-1-person- dynamic (jydia w/ allison) and assholes-who-secretly-care-about-each-other (jydia) And ofc, the underlying tension due to Jydia’s disdain towards Scott and later, Jackson and Allison’s experiences/knowledge of the supernatural.
Malia/Kira/Lydia
Comedy gold. Their scenes speak for themselves and we needed more.
Liam/Mason/Corey
Their S6a dynamic is sooo underrated and should’ve been given more screen time. I loved watching Liam and Corey struggle to get along for Mason’s sake because they want him to be happy. It was all very wholesome and one of the few things that made 6a worth watching.
Stiles/Scott/Liam
Aka the best part of S4.Their dynamic is so fun and well-balanced and infinitely better because they’re a triad. You’ve got Scott and Liam figuring out their mentor/mentee relationship with Stiles co-parenting and preventing the Scott/Liam dynamic from turning unhealthy. (Liam and Scott’s S6 dynamic veered way too close to parent/child for my taste. They need Stiles to balance it out) It’s also hilarious how quickly Liam accepts being aggressively adopted by two idiots who are barely older than him. And Stiles takes so easily to playing older brother/co-parent. It’s adorable. They’re adorable.
Erica/Allison/Lydia
Very similar dynamic to Allison/Lydia/Cora due to Cora and Erica’s similar personalities but also not, which has a lot to do with Allison and Lydia’s reactions to Erica’s weaponized feminity. Also, there’s a lot more history between these girls and I want to know everything about what Erica thinks of Lydia after going to school with her for years.
Sherriff/Melissa/Chris
Of the top of my head, I can only remember that time where they were trapped under the Nemeton and that’s simply unacceptable.
Sheriff/Noshiko/Melissa.
It’s a crime that this triad never got scenes. Especially after the Sheriff tried to arrest Kira. I know Melissa bitch slapped him but I wanted to watch these two badasses gang up on the Sheriff together. ( the Noshiko/Melissa dynamic would be so iconic.)
Victoria/Noshiko/Melissa
Another triad that never shared scenes (obviously because Vic is dead) but their power would’ve been off the charts. I want to make a joke about milfs, but I’ll refrain.
The Yukimura fam
Seemed appropriate since my last two also included. Noshiko.I love family dynamics and the Yukimuras are no exception. The attraction of this triad, for me, is mostly the dynamic between Kira and Noshiko and how Ken navigates between them. They’re also a trio that we didn’t see nearly enough of in S4 and 5. Like seriously, where were they? Noshiko’s on the dead pool, but she’s barely mentioned. (on a mostly unrelated note, how is the 900 yr old Kitsune worth less than a girl that just found about her kitsune powers?)
Derek/Allison/Scott
I don’t need to explain this one. The angst, the drama, Derek projecting Kate onto Allison and Allison trying to murder Derek and their evolution to reluctant allies with a good dash of Scallison and Scott navigating his own difficult relationship with Derek. Aka the complicated, tension fraught trio we all loved/should love. ( ok, I kind of explained it)
Derek/Scott/Liam
And here we have a two for one deal; two mentor/mentee dynamics in 1 triad. People much smarter than me have written about this trio in extensive detail, so all I’m saying is that Derek’s that one uncle who occasionally comes around and gives somewhat helpful advice.
Braeden/Malia/Scott
Braeden and Scott were great in S4. Braeden and Malia were great in S5. Scott and Malia are pretty great when they’re not in a relationship. Combine, and you get what had to be a kick-ass triad that’s sadly never canonly shown together (I think)
Melissa/Chris/Isaac
Not actually featured in the show, but Isaac deserves all the parental figures and I want to witness the surely epic custody battle between Chris and Melissa.
Malia/Scott/Peter
That this trio is on here is actually pretty funny because I hate both Scalia and the forced Peter/Malia bonding in S6. But I loved the scene where Peter warned Malia not to fall in love with Scott because a) he has absolutely 0 right to advise her on anything and b) because of the history between Scott and Peter. In a way, a relationship with Malia is just another thing tying Scott to someone that’s repeatedly caused harm to him and his friends and was the initial cause for all the pain he’s suffered in the last couple years. I just find this dynamic worth exploring.
Malia/Derek/Peter
The Hales 2.0. Derek and Malia deserve to bond over unwillingly being related to Peter, that scumbag.
Malia/Stiles/Peter
Stiles and Peter are so fun together and Stalia is my jam. Throw in an antagonistic Malia and Peter relationship and they’re entertaining as hell. Much more lighthearted than Malia/Scott/Peter.
Stiles/Malia/Lydia
To clarify, this has nothing to do with a love triangle and everything to do with how their personalities play off each other. It’s one of those trios where together, they’re either terrifying or absolute morons.
Stiles/Cora/Derek
Admittedly, my version of this is very Sterek+Cora and the hilarity of Stiles and his attraction to Hales but it’s also 3x snark and you really can’t go wrong.
Scott/Stiles/Melissa
It’s Melissa and her boys 1.0. This woman is by far the best parent on this show, and I love the specific dynamic among these three. Melissa might not always like Stiles, but she cares about him and there’s the mutual understanding that they both adore Scott and would do anything for him. Also, Mel being exasperated by the dumbass duo is always funny.
Kate/Allison/Chris
Lowkey another custody battle because Kate and Chris do fight to be the bigger influence on Allison This is such a tragic trio to me, and the lesson here is basically that sometimes love isn’t enough. Chris and Kate both genuinely love Allison and she loves them too but can’t have both and at some point, she has neither. Kate and Chris care about each other, but that’s not enough either. In the end, they all lose each other. There’s no happy ending for them, at least not with each other.
Derek/Stiles/Peter
Stiles just has chemistry (not necessarily romantic) with all Hales and this trio really shines through in 3x01 and in S3 in general. “Chess is Stiles’s game” asgdhfjgh. I wanted more of that very specific dynamic.
That was a hell lot longer than I thought it would be, but what can you do. Feel free to tell me your own opinions in the tags/comments.
#teen wolf#scalisaac#scott mccall#stiles stilinski#lydia martin#allison argent#isaac lahey#derek hale#malia tate#Kira yukimura#melissa mccall#chris argent#noshiko yukimura#vernon boyd#erica reyes#cora hale#peter hale#kate argent#for someone who's family is supposed to all be dead Derek sure has a lot of living relatives around#though tbf laura does die in s1 cora fucks off to south america peter's peter and his relationship to malia is pretty much non existant#you can't go wrong in a group that has both scott and stiles#i mean except scott/stiles/theo but we won't talk about that lmao#this switches so dramatically between like 1 sentence and a whole ass paragraph#there's no inbetween
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Son of the Medjai: Chapter 3
Osiris’s Curse: Book 1
The Mummy AU
Ship: Pero Tovar x Aria MacKenzie (OC)
Rating: M
Word Count: 5,022 Words
Warnings: Language, Angst, Mild Violence
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Summary: The river boat is attacked, forcing them to leave behind all their supplies. Pero navigates uncharted waters with Aria that seem more difficult to manage than anything he's ever faced.
A/N: This might be my favorite part so far. I am having so much fun writing this fic! I really hope you are all enjoying it as much as I am. Shout out to @rebelscumlena for being my beta! This story would not be what it is without you! Please let me know if you want to be on my taglist and what you think of the fic! Any Spanish Translations will always be found at the bottom of every chapter.
Slowly, Pero drew his revolver and crept through the main cabin door. Someone was on this ship that wasn't supposed to be, and they were headed in the same direction as Aria. The footprints led him down the main corridor towards their cabins. His heart was racing with each careful step, creeping down the hallway to surprise their unwanted guest. He reached the end of the hallway, where the footprints stopped just outside of her door. He contemplated barging in versus knocking. At first he pressed his ear against the door to listen for movement, but instead he heard her mumbling. He decided not to take any chances and barge into the room. Grabbing the doorknob, he used his shoulder to force open the door, startling Aria. She gasped and dropped her brush on the floor, desperately attempting to grab her house robe that was hanging on the hook next to her. “I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed. “Have you ever heard of knocking, Mr. Tovar?”
He frowned when he noticed she was alone in the room. “Who were you just talking to?”
Her eyes widened in horror and her face flushed. “I - were you eavesdropping?”
Pero moved to her closet, ripping the doors open. Empty. He glanced under her bed. Vacant. The curtains near the windows were sheer and showed no sign of disturbance anyway. “Mr. Tovar!” she shouted in a feeble attempt to get his attention.
The bathroom door swung shut, locking her in, as a Bedouin man in flowing black robes leapt from behind it and attacked Pero, knocking the revolver from his hand. He held his arms up to block the blows, but the man took a cheap shot to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Pero groaned and rolled to the left for his revolver. Aria had opened the bathroom door, shrieking at the sight. She walked up behind the Bedouin man and kicked him in the back. Pero was impressed as the man fell forward, bouncing off the coffee table in front of him. He aimed his gun at the man, and growled, “Why are you here?”
The man wiped the blood off his face and glared at them. “Why do you keep returning?”
The cabin door behind Aria opened as another Bedouin man reached in, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her out of the room. Pero swore and moved to go after her, but his first adversary leapt forward, grabbed his ankle and pulled him to the ground. Pero fought against his assailant and kicked free, breaking the man’s nose and knocking him unconscious in the process.
He scrambled across the hallway to his cabin and grabbed his loaded arsenal from inside the door. Tossing it across his back, he sprinted after Aria. When he emerged on deck, he noticed the chaos that had consumed everything. A fire had started in the stables as guests and crew members alike abandoned the ship. The Americans were set up comfortably behind a makeshift bunker they’d made out of their poker table and chairs as they whooped and hollered, shooting at the men attacking. “Pinche gringos,” he muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle. Pero searched for Aria, but couldn’t find her. Murphy and Nabil were cowering in the corner near the Americans defenseless. When Murphy caught his eye, he pointed in the direction of the stern. He wasn’t surprised at her brother’s cowardice, considering she had more of a backbone than he did when it came to confrontation. Following Murphy’s directions, Pero sprinted, knocking several attackers into the water on his way to the back of the boat. He heard her screaming and crying for help as the man cornered her against the railing.
“Where’s the key?” her kidnapper asked in a rough voice with a knife at her throat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she cried, “What key?”
“The key!” he growled.
She had tears in her eyes. “Please, let me go!”
Pero held his finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet, but the man noticed her gaze flash behind him and spun around, holding her in front of him like a human shield. Pero rolled his eyes and aimed his revolver at the man. “Let her go,” he snapped.
The man sneered and pressed the knife a little harder against her neck, allowing a small drop of blood trickle down her throat. “Careful,” he said, “you wouldn’t want me to slit her pretty neck.”
“Do, and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.” Pero’s grip on his gun tightened as he carefully took aim. Aria didn’t struggle against the man holding her out of fear that his blade would do more damage than it already had.
The man twisted the blade just a little and more blood appeared in a small stream down her neck. Aria’s eyes widened in terror as she pleaded silently to Pero for help. He squeezed the trigger. The gun’s hammer struck the firing pin as the sound echoed across the Nile. She felt the bullet whiz past her ear, striking the man behind her. His grip on her loosened as he fell limply to the ground. It wasn’t until Pero rushed forward to hold her in his arms did she realize what had happened. Panic consumed her as he wiped the blood off her face. She leaned into him, shielding her eyes from the body as he led her away from the scene. They sought shelter for a brief moment under the awning as he inspected the small cut under her chin. It was there, but it wasn’t life threatening. She was gazing into his eyes as he lightly ran his thumb over it, causing bumps to rise on her smooth skin. He could feel himself leaning into her, captivated by her so close to him. Suddenly, an explosion went off, startling them apart. He checked his revolver again, before pressing himself against the wall. Using his free hand, he forced Aria to do the same next to him. “Stay low and behind me,” he said, handing her his arsenal bag.
She grabbed his hand in hers. “Pero,” she whispered, “what if-”
“They won’t. I gave you my word, didn’t I?” He replied, squeezing her hand before leading them through the battle.
He spun to the right and shot at several attackers climbing out of the second story windows to escape the flames. Aria clung to him, ducking whenever she heard shots fired. They were making their way to Murphy and Nabil when another Bedouin man attacked Pero with a knife drawn. Pero pushed Aria out of the way, forcing her into Murphy's custody. His assailant slashed him across his forearm as he blocked him from slitting his throat. He hissed at the piercing pain that was shooting up his arm now. He grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it, forcing it behind his back. He kicked the man away from him as hard as he could before unloading the remaining ammunition in his revolver into him. The fire had grown, now consuming most of the main level cabins as it climbed up the rest of the ship. He strode to Aria with an annoyed grimace on his face. “Tell me you know how to swim,” he sighed.
“What? Well, of course I can, if the situation calls for it,” she said, placing her hands on her hips to make his statement seem even more ridiculous.
Pero grinned and scooped her up in his arms, causing her to drop his bag. “Trust me,” he added, tossing her over the side, “it calls for it.”
She shrieked as she hit the water, the coldness seeping into her robe and nightgown. Pero watched for a split second to see if she came up, laughing when he saw her furiously kicking and gasping for air as she swam away from the boat cursing him. “Bastard!” he heard her swear, “I never in my life met a man so uncouth, uncivilized! Who does he think he is, tossing me overboard like some cheap rag doll?”
He tossed his arsenal over his shoulder and jumped in after her, followed by Murphy and Nabil. The shore was not a far swim for them, and Pero caught up to Aria in no time. She was huffing and puffing, half tempted to abandon her robe the more she struggled. Soon, their feet hit the river bottom. They stood and Aria immediately adjusted her robe to cover herself. Pero looked down at her with a small grin and shook his head as he situated the pack on his shoulder. “We’ve lost everything,” she cried, “all our food, supplies. My clothes!”
“At least you saved that robe,” he chuckled, “I would hate to have you out here in nothing but that dainty nightdress.”
“Some of us have to maintain a sense of propriety,” she argued, “just because I’ve only got this nightgown left doesn’t mean I’m going to choose to run as naked as a bairn out here in the desert.”
Pero laughed again at the thought and then patted the satchel he carried. “We have enough money from Will to get what we need at the nearest village. You don’t need to worry about running around naked just yet. Though,” he said, helping her out of the river and glancing over her body, “no one is stopping you.”
She huffed, pulled her robe closer to her, and joined a soaked Murphy on the side of the river. “Ah yes,” he whispered to his sister, “absolutely nothing to like there at all.”
She glared and turned to him, cuffing him on the shoulder. Nabil laughed while Murphy feigned an injury and meekly followed behind a fuming Aria. “I think you dislocated it this time, old mum,” he complained.
Aria growled and shook her head. “I’ll rip it out of its socket the next time, if you keep it up.”
Murphy glanced at Nabil and chuckled. “She threatens to do that at least once a week.”
Pero lingered behind them for a moment and glared back at the ship. He watched as the rest of the passengers crossed to the other side of the river, and that’s when he saw Beckett join the Americans. He grinned to himself. Every soul that survived the raid crossed to the East side of the Nile - passengers, crew members, camels, and their horses. Beckett had everything; except he was on the wrong side of the river. He watched as his rival figured out the same thing before their eyes met. Pero gave him a smug smile and waved at him before turning back to join the rest of his party. They would have at least a few hours or so on the Americans if they kept moving to find the closest Bedouin tribe to help them with supplies.
Murphy and Pero had gathered what they could to build them a fire that night, allowing everyone to dry off and rest. As she did her best to stay warm against the cool desert wind, Aria took notice of Pero wrapping his arm with a makeshift bandage. She made an attempt to move towards him and help properly dress it, but stopped as he caught her eye. Anticipating what she was going to do, he instead shook his head and quickly covered the bandaged wound with his sleeve. They would worry about it when they reached civilization.
When he felt that they had rested enough, Pero pushed the group forward. He wanted them to locate the nearest market before Beckett and his crew. Aria was following right behind him with Murphy and Nabil muttering complaints between them. She sighed, rolling her eyes at her brother and ran to walk next to their guide. Before long the outline of a market was on the horizon, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. She was starving and her feet were sore. Holding her robe close to her, she glanced up at Pero from the corner of her eye. She’d caught him gazing at her before he straightened and his eyes darted forward. “Who were those men?” she asked.
He sighed and adjusted the sack on his shoulder. “Members of some tribe or group that protects Aten,” he muttered, “or at least I think that’s their job. I’ve run into them the last two times. They’re Bedouin, I believe.”
“They attacked us in Cairo,” she admitted, “when Murphy first showed me the map he’d stolen from you.”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Did they get the map?”
She nodded. “This time they were asking about a key.”
Frowning, Pero looked out across the sands. Murphy hadn’t stolen a key from him, unless there was something more to that box than he initially thought.
“Will they be back?”
Pero stopped and looked at her. He could see the fear in her eyes. She was not prepared for this, and he took part of the blame. He should have warned her better about what they were facing. On top of whatever was underneath the sand there, the land was littered with the blood of those the Bedouin deemed as trespassers. “Yes,” he sighed, “they will. But they know me, and they know not to fuck with my group. Honestly, I'm more worried about Beckett than I am the raiders.”
“James?” She asked with a smile. “But I quite enjoyed his company.”
Rolling his eyes, Pero pushed on. He couldn’t understand why her interest in Beckett bothered him so. Regardless of the reason he was choosing to avoid, he didn’t want that man anywhere near him or his party. He knew too much about how he operated, and if there was one thing Pero despised most it was being vulnerable. “Aria,” he huffed as they continued their trek, “be careful with James. He’s a treasure hunter that only takes interest in something or someone if it’s worth anything to him. The second a better price comes along, he will sell you out.”
“Isn’t that how you see…” she paused and glanced at him, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, “me?”
Pero stiffened. The short answer was yes, but the more time he spent with her - the more he sought opportunities to irritate her - that answer became more complex. It’d been a while since he’d felt any emotion outside the realm of mild annoyance. Taking a deep breath, he decided the best answer to give her was a professional, emotionless answer. “I’m true to my word and loyal enough that I won’t sell you out.”
He saw her deflate a little and turn her gaze away from him. “Oh,” she replied, “right. Of course.”
Her tone was different. Disappointed. He knew immediately that his answer was not the one she wanted. “What I meant was-”
“I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Tovar,” she interrupted.
She moved to join Murphy, who was several paces behind them, when he grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Aria.”
She gazed down at his grasp before looking up at him. “So long as my brother and I make it back home in one piece,” she affirmed, “you will still receive the payment you were promised.”
He dropped her hand and watched her help Murphy off the ground. He’d clearly stumbled in the sand, and now she was helping him dust off. Pero’s chest tightened the longer he gazed at her. He wasn’t used to being in the presence of a woman who’d stirred something in him. She challenged him in a way that he wasn’t sure agitated or thrilled him. She was fiery and way too stubborn for her own good; he liked it. It was fun and she kept him on his toes. He found himself smiling when a large shoulder knocked into him. “Careful there, Tovar,” Nabil said, “the desert is an unforgiving place for those unprepared.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes at the cheesy piece of advice. “I’m fine,” he muttered.
“Tell that to the stupid look you have on your face.” Nabil laughed and began singing another popular Egyptian song that was loud and wildly off key.
By early morning when they reached the small market, Aria had said very little to Pero since their talk about Beckett. When it came time to find supplies, he decided to task her with finding food and bedrolls. He even tried to joke with her about finding clothes for her to wear, but he was met with a cold stare and a feigned smile. He was left to watch Aria’s back as she walked away, ignoring his attempt to call after her. Murphy came up and slapped him on the shoulder with a chuckle. “Not that I want to get involved in this,” he laughed, “but, you really fucked it up back there, mate.”
Pero glared at him. “You heard?”
“We’re four people roaming an empty desert with nothing else around. Of course I heard you.” He watched as Pero internally groaned, staring in the direction Aria disappeared.
“I didn’t mean to offend her,” he added, not really aware that he’d said that out loud.
Murphy and Nabil both laughed, pulling him towards a man selling camels and horses. “Are you having a laugh?” Murphy asked. “You’ve been trying to get her goat since the two of you met.”
He forced the two men to walk in front of him. “Murphy,” he spat, desperate to change the topic, “make yourself useful and secure our transportation.”
Murphy approached the merchant, shaking his head at Pero. He started bargaining with a man for four horses, but the man wanted to sell him all five in the herd. They started arguing, but Pero wasn’t paying any attention. He was staying alert, waiting for Aria to reappear in the market. She’d been gone for a while - too long for his liking. He started in the direction she went, asking if anyone had seen her. Finally, a woman nodded and pointed in the direction of a large tent just down the way from where he was. “Aria!” he called.
He heard some women murmur and giggle from inside the tent. “Aria!”
The tent door ruffled before a short, middle-aged woman flung it open and walked out, leading Aria in her own deep blue dress with a sheer veil covering her in typical Bedouin fashion and a thin golden belt that kept the layers wrapped together. Her hair had been brushed and twisted into a loose braid beneath the sheer fabric. In a word, she was bewitching. She glanced up at him with a smile, completely different from when they first arrived. He returned her smile when she stopped in front of him. “Were you worried I ran off with Mr. Beckett?” she softly asked.
He felt his face flush a little, but he managed to hide the emotions bubbling at the surface. “We’re ready to go,” he replied. Suddenly his mouth had gone dry, and he found himself struggling to take a deep breath.
She grinned and watched him shift nervously in front of her, his eyes suddenly averting from hers. Aria noticed he anxiously tugged at the sleeve over his makeshift bandage that had turned red. Frowning, she reached out to grab his hand. “You’ve bled through your bandage ,” she said, gently lifting his sleeve up.
“It’s nothing to be concerned over,” he replied, trying to pull away from her, but her grip was firm.
She slowly peeled back the dressing and saw a long gash down his forearm. Not having seen much of it from when he initially wrapped it himself, she started to feel guilty knowing he had sustained such an injury from protecting her. It wasn’t deep, luckily. “Let me help,” she suggested, “At least to clean and redress it properly.”
“Librarian, herbalist, and now doctor. Is there anything you can’t do?” he asked with a chuckle, following her back into the tent she’d just exited.
Aria smiled at him again before turning to one of the women and asking for medical supplies. “When you grow up with Murphy as your brother, you tend to acquire a unique set of skills.” Once the supplies were brought to her, she immediately began cleaning it. Pero winced, and she smiled almost bashfully, taking more care as she continued on with her work. He found himself enjoying her smile more than anything and made it his personal mission to find ways to make it appear more often. “For a man as tough as you, this hurts?”
He playfully rolled his eyes. “I’m not immune to pain, Aria,” he grumbled, “Mortal weapons can still kill me.” This drew a laugh out of her; it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and he’d do anything to hear it again.
“Well, fortunately for us,” she added, “this is too far from your heart to kill you.” Aria went to place the bandage around his arm when she noticed the peculiar tattoo she’d seen at the prison. It was the Eye of Horus in the center of a pyramid with a circle that she assumed was the sun protruding from behind it. Pero noticed her gaze and froze as she traced it. “I’ve seen this symbol before.”
He didn’t move away from her, as he typically did when people saw his strange tattoo. He let her examine it, gliding her fingers across it. In a weird way, he enjoyed it. This was a new sensation to him, one that he didn’t want to end. He could feel knots in his stomach churn as his chest tightened, squeezing every last bit of air out of his lungs. “I’ve had this for as long as I can remember,” he softly replied, “I think I got it when I was still in the orphanage in Cairo.”
She looked up at him, sorrow in her gaze. “The orphanage?”
He nodded. “I ran away from one in Barcelona when I was twelve. I stowed away on a ship and ended up here where they tossed me right back into another one in Cairo. I left there when I was fifteen, and then spent the better part of my life job hopping until the War started.”
She glanced down at his tattoo again, lightly rubbing her thumb over it. “It’s a sign of protection,” she continued, “this is the -”
“Eye of Horus,” he said, “The Bedouin have the same tattoo.” Aria froze, staring at him with a mild panic in her eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m not working for them. But their leader, Shakir Fahmy, once told me that it was the sign of the Medjai. He tried convincing me that it was my destiny to protect Aten from outsiders; that it is my duty to ensure the safety of the secrets that lie beneath the sand, instead of selling expeditions to the highest bidder.”
“If they have this tattoo, they’re not just any Bedouin tribe,” she replied, “those men after us are sa-en Medjai, Sons of the Medjai. I heard stories that they survived long after the Egyptian Empire fell, but never had I seen evidence of this being true.” She glanced down at his arm again before wrapping the bandage tight around it. “Mr. Tovar -”
“You can call me Pero,” he softly stated, holding her hand once she finished wrapping his injury.
Aria smiled at him again, leaning closer to him. “Pero,” she paused, letting the sweet sensation of his name felt rolling off her tongue sink in, “this must mean you are a Son of the Medjai.”
He chuckled. “What does that mean?”
He watched her light up, suddenly excited to share her knowledge with him. She talked fast and with such passion, he was pulled into this world she’d created and brought to life in front of him. “The Sons of the Medjai, according to records found in the Valley of Kings, were the elite of the Medjai. Not much is known of the Lost Dynasty, but it is said they were founded then. There have been references to them all over Ancient Egypt, and one thing has remained constant: they never leave the city of Thebes. They served no Pharoah, only Osiris himself. Their symbol was this,” she said, pointing to his tattoo, “a gift from their god to protect them while they served. Some records say they were warriors for Osiris against the armies of Set. Many believed that the Sons were sent by Osiris himself, born to the people instead of families.”
“Born to the people?”
She nodded feverently. “Yes. It means they had no family, but instead were raised by their village until they were old enough to take on their sacred duties.”
He coyly smiled at her. “So, what you’re saying is,” he softly said, moving closer to her, “I am a gift from the gods?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Pero,” she smirked. They were close enough that she could feel his lips lightly brushing against hers, when suddenly there was a commotion outside that forced them to move apart. He watched as her eyes averted from his and a deep burn spread across her face. He grinned and moved past her to see what the ruckus was. Murphy, of course, had dragged their transports through this part of the market, causing several of the merchants to yell at him, cursing him for knocking over a few stands. Pero growled, silently cursing her brother himself for ruining the moment. He stormed out of the tent, Aria following closely behind him, and grabbed the reins from Murphy, who was giving both of them a knowing smirk.
“Did I interrupt something?” Murphy asked, “The looks on your faces say it all.”
Glaring at the man, he turned the horses away from the market and grumbled loud enough for him to hear, “Te dispararía ahora mismo si no tuviera un gran respeto por tu hermana.”
Murphy walked up next to Aria and bumped her shoulder with his. “Do I need to have a chat with him? You know, man-to-man?”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes at her brother. “You really are an idiot, Murph. I was dressing his wound from that ghastly man on the boat.”
He snickered and covered his mouth with his hand to hide it. Nabil was busying himself at a fruit stand, and Pero was now on the opposite side of the small village, waiting. Aria turned to Murphy and crossed her arms, in clear annoyance. “What is it?”
“Oh nothing,” he said, “I just remember you said there was nothing to like there at all.”
Aria sighed. “We have to work together. I might as well make the best of this situation.”
She stormed off to join Pero. She watched him with a small smile while he calmed one of the horses that was spooked by a couple of children who ran by them. Her gaze caught his, and he returned his smile. All at once, he watched as his surroundings turned from the quiet, desert market to a brightly lit, gold-encrusted hallway. There were elaborate hieroglyphics and paintings on the walls with high arches on the left, open to the expanding city below. The sunset painted the sky with purples and oranges as a cool breeze drifted in from the Nile. In front of him was a beautiful, dark-haired woman dressed in silky, white robes with an intricate headpiece that resembled a much smaller version of Isis’s headdress. She looked like a queen. As she walked toward him, he realized the strong resemblance she had with Aria. She was Aria but she wasn’t at the same time. She smiled when she reached him, wrapping her arm around his. He saw her mouth move, but he heard nothing come out. No sound, no words. He tried to listen, but all he heard was a muffled voice in the distance yell “Nefertari!” The woman turned to look in the direction of the voice. She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek before disappearing, taking the rest of this hallucination with her.
Pero reached up to touch his cheek. He felt her lips against his skin. Clearly still lost in his fantasy, he couldn’t hear Aria running forward calling his name until she was in front of him. The worry was written all over her face as she held his face in her hands to force him to look at her. His eyes were still glossy as they looked through her instead of at her. “Pero!” she cried, “What is it?”
He frowned, absorbing what happened. He was back in the small market, Aria was no longer dressed like the Egyptian royalty he’d just held in his arms. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he let out a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I-I-,” he was struggling.
“Pero,” she said, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks, holding his head up.
“I think that blade was laced with something,” he said, “or I need water.”
Much to Aria’s horror, the color didn’t return to his now pale face. She helped him sit down on the low wall he was standing near. She waved for Murphy to grab water. “What’s wrong?”
He grabbed her wrists, gently running his thumbs up and down the insides of them to calm her. “I saw -” he paused. No, it’s best to keep what I saw to myself.
“What?”
“I’m not sure what. I think the desert heat is just getting to me.”
She was not convinced, but decided not to push it.
“The Pharoah returns and now he will die. Ausar and his queen will meet their fates again.”
The ghostly voice Aria had heard not three days ago had returned. She slowly glanced around for the source, not wanting to draw attention to herself. But when she looked back at Pero, she could see on his face that he had heard it too. The two remained holding each other’s gaze, each worried for what they would face the further into the desert they went.
Translations
Pinche gringos - Fucking gringos (white people)
Te dispararía ahora mismo si no tuviera un gran respeto por tu hermana. - I would shoot you right now if I didn't have high respect for your sister.
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#Sons of the Medjai#Osiris's Curse#Pero x Aria#Pero Tovar#The Great Wall#The Mummy AU#Pero Tovar x Aria MacKenzie#Pero Tovar x OC#SotM
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Turn Back Time
Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader
Word Count: 2617
Warnings: fluff, embarrassing moments
Summary: Theo's embarrassing mistake makes his parents wish they could turn back time.
A/N: We're skipping ahead to the future! This takes place in October 2039 and yes this is another Theo-centric drabble but it's fine because we love him. There are more mentions of The Price of Astrophile universe collab with Allie so don't forget to read Astrophile if you haven't already. Thank you to my love @all1e23 for beta reading 🍕❤️
It’s quiet in the house, silent mostly apart from the gentle hum of the washing machine that fills the background as your eyes gaze over the pages of the sturdy book that rests in your lap. Your focus is interrupted every now and then when Cashew lets out a deep snore you’re surprised hasn’t woken him.
He’s curled up beside you on the couch with his head resting against your thigh. The book can wait so you’ve set it off to the side, rubbing your palm in long, gentle strokes along his body. It’s hard not to notice how he doesn’t climb up as easily as he used to. You vividly recall the day you adopted him and it’s hard to believe that was thirteen years ago but just like Cashew isn’t a puppy anymore, your kids aren’t children.
Ariel is living in New York and though you knew this was coming for a long time you still miss her every day. It made sense for her to be there with more opportunities in dance. She was loving every moment training at the American Ballet Theatre.
New York had offered more than just dance, Ariel’s heart had been there ever since she met Ollie. You understood the difficulties of a long distance relationship, having done so with Lance for a while. It still amazed you though how dedicated they were to each other despite their age. Their friends enjoyed the convenience of being face to face while Ariel and Ollie spent more time having “dates” over FaceTime until they were able to see each other in person again.
Now you’re the one that has to FaceTime her, thankful that no matter how exhausted she was after a long day of dancing she always has time to speak to her parents. Lance knew the rigorous training she was going through, reminiscent of his own Olympic training. “You don’t have to call us every night,” he would tell her and while Ariel knew she didn’t have to, she could see passed the smile on his face knowing how much her Dad misses his Starfish. If a few minutes a day made her parents happy she would give that and more without question.
Seeing her over the phone was good but in person was even better and last weekend you were able to do that. It was her twentieth birthday and you and Lance flew up to celebrate. It didn’t matter that you last saw her two months ago, both of you hugged her like it’s been forever.
She was more than settled in at the Barnes’ house and you couldn’t thank them enough as they offered to have Ariel stay with them. You were certain Cassie had a lot of influence on their decision, emphatically telling them all the reasons why Ariel should live there.
Truthfully she didn’t have a lot of convincing to do. You and Lance were as close to the Barnes’ as Ariel and Cassie. You had a long discussion with them and they kindly offered Orion’s old bedroom. She had been living in the apartment above their bookstore for the last few years so they did have the space. Plus they considered Ariel family and they wanted to make sure she was safe as she navigated life in a new city.
It was sad that Theo couldn’t make it and no one was more disappointed than him. He would use any opportunity to see his friends in New York and it killed him to have to miss this trip. Theo was training to become a lifeguard and his classes were every Saturday; missing even one would disqualify him from the program.
He was able to FaceTime as everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to Ariel, watching her blow out the candles on the cake Cassie made for her. The phone was passed around so Theo could say goodbye to everyone, heat forming on his cheeks when Ori told him how much he was missed. His smile curbed just a bit when Leo grabbed the phone and teased that he wasn’t missed that much.
Theo was only alone for a few days and while some seventeen year olds with a house to themself might throw a party Theo was focused on practicing. He stayed long after class was over to continue swimming laps in the Olympic size pool. With his test coming up he needed to practice as much as he could.
The sound of the door shutting puts a smile on your face. Before he even announces himself you know it’s Theo, you can tell by the way he shuffles inside, dropping off his bag near the front closet like he always does.
Cashew slowly lifts his head up as Theo plops down on the couch. “Hey mom,” he said quickly, smiling at Cashew who slowly got up to turn and face Theo.
“You’re home early. I thought you’d be practicing some more.”
He looked up from Cashew to answer you, still giving the good old dog scratches behind his ears. “They had some private lessons so I couldn’t stay. Did you have lunch yet? I’m gonna make something before I get into our pool, unless you needed it?”
You couldn’t help the smile on your face knowing Theo had grown into a kind and considerate young man; not that you expected anything else. You and Lance worked hard raising him and Ariel with manners and to treat everyone with respect
“I ate already, thank you Pumpkin.” Theo dropped his head to Cashew as fond embarrassment came over him at the sound of his nickname. “And the pool is all yours though I do wish you would take it easy. You’re sure you haven’t been pushing your knee too much?”
His shorts are bunched just above the scar from the ACL surgery he had earlier this year and the injury, although common, was devastating to Theo. He loved being active so bringing all of his activities to an immediate halt hurt more than the pop felt in his knee. He was eager to get back into everything which made you worry. Then again, as his mother you would always worry about him.
“I feel good, trust me Mom.” Theo reassured you with a smile. He got up from the couch and stopped to plant a kiss on your cheek before heading to the kitchen. You helped Cashew down, his nails tapping slowly against the floors as he followed Theo, hopeful and waiting for some food to drop.
As you were folding laundry you didn’t expect Theo to be there, startling you enough that a pair of folded socks went flying out of your hands. He laughed as he went to pick it up, snickering still as he asked, “Do you know where the Bluetooth speaker is? Mine broke.”
Pursed lips held feigned anger for Theo laughing at you but you couldn’t keep it up. “It might still be in the garage from the last time Ariel was home.”
“Thanks,” he said, tossing the rolled up socks your way. He turned on his heels before backtracking, flashing a smile as bright and white as the freshly folded towel he took from the pile, throwing it over his bare shoulder.
Theo was ready to swim again, and not long after you heard music blasting from the backyard. Your pool wasn’t large enough to accurately practice the timed laps he needed to complete for certification but he was able to work on other things, like perfect all of his strokes and practice retrieving a diving brick from the bottom of the pool. It was a little awkward and Theo supposes that grabbing a person will feel just as foreign. Then again he’s kind of done it before.
Last year when his friends from New York came to visit everyone was helping Ariel pack up things for her move. Ollie even brought an extra suitcase so he could bring back some things in advance to ease the trip she would have to make the following month. As her best friend Cassie was at her side, holding the list Ariel made and rightfully ignoring it as she pointed at random things in the room to see if it was something Ariel wanted to take. (And no Cassie, there was no need for Ariel to take the pink bowling pin from her seventh birthday party with her to New York.)
Leo was doing his best to help, at Cassie’s insistence. He would much rather be hanging out with Theo who is much luckier than him for not having to help pack up. His eyes shifted to the open door, hoping the sound of the person coming up the stairs was Theo, or Ori even. It was a good thing Ariel’s room didn’t face the backyard because Leo would have been running outside if he got a look at what was going on.
Theo can’t escape the memory of the day he taught Ori how to swim. Somehow he was lucky enough to be alone with her, without Leo’s disapproving stare weighing him down. His own nerves were doing that for him but he pushed them aside as much as he could.
Ori was embarrassed, thinking she was too old to be learning how to swim at twenty-three. Her makeshift doggy paddle was enough to fool others into thinking she simply preferred the shallow end to stay near her younger siblings when they were little.
The truth was the deep end was unpredictable. There were too many what-ifs and if Ori could not solidly control a situation then she simply wouldn’t go for it. But things didn’t seem as scary with Theo there. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, honesty swirling in the reflection of the water below them; or his smile, with kindness pouring out from the soft pull of his lips. There was no need to feel shame and with Theo she never had a reason to.
It was one of the best days of his life, not only because of the time he was able to spend with her but because Ori trusted him. He kept her safe and taught her as much as he could before the sky decided to open up on them.
Every time he gets in his pool those memories wash over him. Theo can’t help the heat that creeps on his cheeks, a minor distraction he tries to shake off so he could continue practicing. But when he remembers her scent, fresh lavender that’s soft and pretty just like Ori, it has him swimming through the clouds.
It was hard not to think about Ori, she’s been on his mind ever since they met. He was a child then with a big crush on that pretty girl with the big smile and gorgeous eyes; but with every passing year his feelings have grown and Theo knows deep down in his heart there's a reason why he can't shake this crush. His mind drifts with hope for the future.
Eventually he was able to focus, staying out there until long after Lance got home. Dinner was quick and you and Lance could see how much Theo had pushed himself all day. He was exhausted, unable to control his yawning in between chewing his food. The sun had barely begun to set when he said goodnight to you both.
The rest of the night was spent in bed, cuddling up with Lance as you watched a movie hearing the gentle patter of rain against the windows. Cashew was resting at the end of the bed, surprising you when he lifted his head up at the sound of the toilet flushing down the hall.
“Good boy Cashew,” you cooed, leaning forward to pat his head, “You heard Theo, good boy!” It was nice, for a moment, to believe Cashew wasn't as old as he really was.
You settled back against Lance, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head. His hand rubbed up and down your arm gently, reaching down to squeeze a handful of your bottom.
As you lifted your head up towards him, Lance’s growing smirk told you that Cashew might have to temporarily move to his bed on the floor. He leaned in to capture your lips, your need for him growing deeper until everything came to a record scratching halt.
“Mmmm just like that baby.”
You pulled away, puzzled by the foreign sound of a woman whose pornographic moans grew louder and louder.
“What the fuck? Where is that coming from?”
Both of your phones were on the nightstand untouched and the movie was still playing so it was unlikely that the remote had been accidentally touched. Lance chuckled as he sat back against the headboard, wishing you would get back in bed so he could pull those same sounds from you.
You scanned your bedroom following the lewd sounds until you stopped dead in your tracks. On the bathroom counter your eyes widened in horror, staring at the sleek Bluetooth speaker, the same device Theo was using earlier. Lance must have taken it back inside before the storm.
Your feet carried you in a hurry, jumping back in bed in a frenzy, disturbing poor Cashew as you buried your face in the pillow.
“What?” Lance asked, first with a laugh which faded into concern as you shook your head, muttering a slew of “no’s” into the fabric. “Y/N what’s wrong?”
Your head turned to the side, peeking one eye open at Lance who couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer.
“It’s… Theo.” Your face cringed as you said his name. “He must have been too tired before to disconnect his phone from the speaker…”
Lance’s lips pressed into a thin line realizing he would have to handle this embarrassing situation since there was no way you could.
It wasn’t that Theo wasn’t open with you. He never shied away from bringing Amber over the house, asking for your advice on sweet things he could do for her especially when they got back together but there were some things he definitely felt more comfortable talking about with his Dad.
Lance let out a heavy breath, closing the door behind him so you didn’t have to hear that awkward conversation.
“Cashew help me!” you pleaded, patting the spot on the mattress next to you for him to cuddle.
He plopped down beside you, licking your face as you gently pet him. The moans abruptly stopped and you felt some relief though a bit of sadness lingered. Although Theo would always be your pumpkin he was no longer a little boy.
“Theo’s all grown up now huh Cashew?” His head tilted slowly, a reminder that he too was all grown. As the door creaked open you lifted your head to Lance, hesitantly asking, “Everything good?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a small laugh, “Yeah... he’ll be fine.”
Getting back into bed, Lance adjusted his position since Cashew had taken up a good portion of the middle. With Ariel in New York and Theo graduating next year it made you both realize just how much time had passed and because of that Lance didn’t take it personal when you snuggled with Cashew instead of him. He threw his arm over both of you, flashing that same smile that spoke the words he didn’t need to say.
You were both feeling the same thing, the yearning of wanting to turn back time and not let your babies (and puppy) grow up as fast as they did. Or at the very least, remind Theo to disconnect his phone from the speaker!
#lance tucker x reader#lance tucker fanfiction#lance tucker x you#dad!lance tucker#lance tucker fluff
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A Stolen Choice (Alpha!Nomad!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader)
Summary: When your aunt dies and leaves you everything she owns in her will, you find yourself travelling to the mountains of North Carolina to her cabin in the middle of nowhere to sort through her belongings. But you also quickly find yourself helpless against the desires of a mysterious alpha who’s decided to claim you as his...
A/N: Hello! I wrote this fic for one of my ko-fi readers! Click here if you’d be interested in donating. There’s no pressure to whatsoever, but everyone who donates will be able to request any type of fic they’re interested in. Message me if you have any questions! In the meantime, enjoy this fic! Be warned: it contains rape, dub-con, breeding kink, a/b/o dynamics, and nomad!Steve. Enjoy!
You hadn’t really even known your aunt very well; you’d met her three, maybe four times over the course of your life, and while she’d always been incredibly sweet, she’d never really stood out in your mind as one of your closest relatives. Therefore, you were surprised to say the least when you were informed, after her death, that she’d left all of her worldly possessions to you in her will.
“Wait, there… There must be some kind of mistake,” you’d told the banker, shaking your head. “I wasn’t even that close to my aunt. I don’t understand…”
“I can send you a copy of her will, if you would like to see for herself,” he’d told you in a disinterested tone. “She also had a letter she wanted you to read; perhaps that can shed some light on the matter for you.”
The letter, as it turned out, did manage to enlighten you; it arrived at your apartment about a week after you’d first learned about your inheritance, and it revealed more about your aunt in just a few sentences than you’d ever known about her over the course of your life.
To my niece:
If you’re reading this, then it means my cancer finally got the best of me. It was a long fight, but rest assured that I’m glad it’s over; I’m a tough woman, always have been, but cancer is even tougher, and I’ve been tired of my uphill battle with it for a long, long time.
I know we never got to know each other well, hon. But you always stood out to me – you’re stronger than people give you credit for. I know most of our family’s judged you for being an omega; hell, I’d even made assumptions about you before meeting you. But you managed to prove me wrong, and for that I love you.
Don’t stop being yourself, and don’t let the family get you down. The only thing you need in life is you. But I’m sure the twenty grand I’ve saved up won’t hurt, either.
Her signature was scrawled across the bottom half of the page, and you found tears in your eyes as you read the letter for a second time; no one, not even your parents, had been that accepting of you after you presented. Your entire family was made up of alphas and betas, with only one or two omegas popping up along the way. And while they’d all still loved you, their disappointment upon learning of your status as an omega had still been loud and clear.
But your aunt evidently had believed you to be strong, and you felt more determined than ever to prove her right.
And so, here you were, navigating the treacherous, narrow roads of western North Carolina, your knuckles white as they gripped your steering wheel and your nerves frayed from the lack of guard rails, fences, or really any kind of separation between the road and the twenty foot ravine sloping down along its length.
“Ok,” you breathed, focusing your eyes straight ahead. “It’s fine; everything is fine. We are not going to go over the side; we are almost there. We can do this.”
Along with the twenty thousand now resting in your savings account, your aunt had left you a cabin she and her late wife had built about ten years ago. Ever since your aunt’s wife died in a car accident, she’d lived in their home in the middle of nowhere, and no one in your family had ever been to visit. Everyone had joked about her being a hermit, and while you’d never laughed along with them, you’d had to agree that she only seemed to come to family gatherings if they coincided with a funeral or a wedding. But now, as you made your slow, steady climb up to the address of what was now your cabin, you couldn’t help but wish she’d decided to be a hermit somewhere else.
“You couldn’t have chosen a beach house,” you huffed. “Or a sensible condo in the city. You had to live up in the boonies with black bears, coyotes, and the ghosts of lost hikers.”
But finally, after a long and tumultuous journey, you were able to see the outline of a building from between the trees. A grin spread over your face and a triumphant exclamation escaped your lips, and as soon as you found yourself parked in front of your aunt’s former home, you threw yourself out of your car and threw your arms up.
“Finally!”
You languidly stretched your limbs, touching your toes and then bouncing a bit on your heels before stiffly retrieving your suitcase from your trunk; you’d been stuck behind that wheel for several hours, and if you ever drove again, it would be too soon.
You had to admit, though, that the property was lovely. Your aunt had lived in a charming little A-frame cabin with a green tin roof, and if the chimney was any indication, a cute fireplace would be waiting for you inside. It was currently right in the middle of spring, and the trees sang with the songs of birds and cicadas. Honeysuckle grew in thick bushes along the side of the driveway, and little patches of wildflowers were dotted along the plush green grass.
“No one will be able to hear me scream all the way out here,” you mused to yourself as you walked towards the front door. “But at least it’s pretty.”
You fit the key into the lock and gave it an experimental twist, and the sound of the lock clicking almost drowned out the snap of a twig from somewhere close by. Almost.
Feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, you turned around, scanning the forest for the source of the sound. You suddenly felt, distinctly, as if you were being watched, and you set your suitcase down before taking a step forward.
“…Hello?”
You didn’t receive an answer, and your ears strained to pick up on any other suspicious noise. But, after waiting for several seconds, your shoulders finally slumped, and you turned back towards the door.
“Must’ve been a squirrel or something…”
After nudging the door open, you struggled to pick up your heavy suitcase, oblivious to the pair of blue eyes watching your every movement. Your admirer closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, catching a waft of your scent on the breeze as you finally managed to shove your case passed the open doorway. A quiet growl escaped his chest as he opened his eyes once more, just in time to see you turn and close the door behind you. His ears registered the sound of the lock sliding back into place, but he knew that it wouldn’t be able to keep him out.
It never had been able to before.
______
You didn’t even know where to begin. You knew that you were supposed to go through everything of your aunt’s and decide whether or not you were going to sell it, but you hadn’t expected the act to feel so…wrong. Even though she was long gone and had left everything to you, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you were throwing away someone else’s things without their permission.
And so you put it off; instead, you spent your first day simply taking inventory, going through the house and trying to learn more about your aunt in the process. You sorted through her storage room, finding old, dusty boardgames and random little trinkets lining her bookshelves. Your favorite things were the pictures, though – she had so many hanging up on the walls of every room in the cabin, all of them containing photos of her, her wife, and their families. You were shocked to see your high school graduation photo among their ranks; you’d had no idea she’d even been sent a copy.
After your little self-guided tour, you went through her refrigerator and threw everything within it out, plugging your nose as you did; she’d been dead for only two weeks, but the food your aunt had left behind had already, for the most part, spoiled. The only things that were still in date were a half pack of bacon, six eggs, and a few frozen pizzas tucked into the freezer. From there, you went upstairs to the loft-style bedroom and washed the sheets on her bed, and then you unpacked your things until the sky started to turn the pink and orange hues of a sunset.
Luckily, your aunt had a huge supply of canned goods, and so after opening and microwaving a can of Chef Boyardee, you retreated to perhaps your favorite part of the entire cabin – the back deck.
Your aunt had built her house on a piece of land that sloped steadily downwards from the driveway, and so the deck was situated on stilts that allowed it to overlook the ravine several feet below. It gave you a panoramic view of the forest, with the sloping peaks of the Appalachian Mountains rising in the distance. Down at the bottom of the valley, a creek trickled by, and the soft sound of its babbling served as soothing background noise for your evening meal.
After you were finished with your pasta, you sat back and closed your eyes, inhaling deeply. There was something blooming nearby that smelled intoxicating – like cedar and sandalwood and musk. Your mouth watered at its sweet, masculine scent, and you found yourself wishing that you had a candle that smelled like it.
You jumped when, once again, you heard a twig snap, followed by the sound of bushes rustling from somewhere close. You sat up, peering over the deck’s fence to try and pinpoint its source.
“Hello?”
Setting your empty bowl to the side, you stood up and walked closer to the edge, peering out over the woods. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; maybe it had been a possum. Or a skunk. Or…whatever else that lived in the mountains of North Carolina.
You were ready to turn away when you saw it – a flash of movement to your left. Frowning, you leaned over the side of the rail, and your eyes widened when you caught a glimpse of blue from between a patch of brambles.
“Hey! Hey, are you ok?”
You watched as whoever it was froze in place, and you glanced back towards the sky; you could just make out the outline of the moon, and the pinks and oranges had faded to red and violet.
“Hey, are you lost? It’s starting to get dark out; I would head back if I were you.”
Slowly, the person stood up and picked their way out of the brush, and when they turned towards you, you realized that it was a man. A very tall man. A very tall man with a beard, a gun strapped to his belt, and two very impressive biceps.
Shit.
“Uh… Hi,” you called out once again, this time sounding significantly less sure about yourself.
“Hi,” he called back, raising his hand in a wave.
“Um… Whatcha doing over there?”
“Oh, I was, uh… I was hiking,” he explained. “But I think I got lost somewhere along the way. Could I borrow your phone?”
You hesitated, watching as the man started making his way up the hill, covering a large amount of ground with each of his long, confident strides.
“Mine died a while ago,” he went on, lowering his voice as he grew closer. “I was debating whether or not to disturb you; I know meeting a strange man in the woods probably isn’t what you were hoping to do this evening.”
Finally, he was standing directly in front of you, though the ground was about six feet beneath the floor of the deck. You looked down at him and chewed your lip, debating whether or not to help him. He looked nice enough, and he sounded genuine, but you’d said it yourself earlier – no one would hear you scream this far out.
You opened your mouth to answer him, but that was when it hit you – the smell from earlier. This time, it was much stronger, and it was then that you realized why the scent had hints of musk in it.
It was the scent of an alpha – an alpha about to start a rut.
Your blood ran cold, and you backed away from the deck’s fence as if it had burned you.
“You need to go,” you told him, watching as his smile abruptly faded away. “Right now. Or I’ll call the police.”
“Look,” he sighed, holding his hands up. “I know that this looks like; but I promise I don’t wanna hurt-“
“I don’t believe you,” you interrupted, and a cold flash of annoyance crossed his handsome, somehow familiar features. “Please, just go. I don’t want any trouble. But I will call the cops.”
The alpha sighed, setting his hands on his hips, and for a long moment the two of you were silent. The sound of the crickets that pervaded the forest seemed to rise up in a crescendo as he studied your face, but his voice seemed to drown them out as he spoke next.
“I wonder how long it’d take the police to get all the way out here.”
Your eyes widened at that, and you stumbled backwards when he suddenly jumped, pulling himself up onto the deck as if it were the easiest thing in the world. You let out a squeak and turned around, dashing to the door and yanking it open. You were just barely able to get the door shut and locked behind you before the stranger was standing in front of it. Your heart sank as you stared at him through the glass, and he arched an eyebrow, tapping his fingers against it as he stared you down.
“This doesn’t have to be hard,” he called out, his voice muffled but just loud enough to make out. “I really don’t want to hurt you. Just let me in and we can talk – I promise.”
“Is it really that surprising that I don’t believe you?” you yelled back. “Please, just leave. My alpha will be here any minute!”
You knew that was a lie – you’d never even had sex before, and you definitely didn’t have an alpha in your life. But maybe this man didn’t know that; maybe he wouldn’t call your bluff.
But all hopes of that flew out the window when he let out a laugh, shaking his head.
“You’re a horrible liar,” he remarked. “You’ve never even been with an alpha before; I’d be able to smell your innocence from a mile away.”
Your cheeks burned and you turned away, reaching into your pocket for your phone.
“Last warning, shithead,” you called out. “I’m calling the cops right now.”
Finally, the smile dropped off of his face, and he let out a deep sigh. Holding his hands up in surrender, he took a step back from the door, bowing his head in mock-respect.
“Alright,” he conceded. “Alright; I guess I’ll go ride this rut out with a more receptive omega.”
His eyes flashed as he turned away, and you watched as he walked to the other side of the deck. He leaned over the rail despite the fifteen foot drop just beneath it, and you watched as he turned towards you over his shoulder.
‘See you soon,’ he mouthed, and then he threw himself off the deck.
With a surprised cry, you stared blankly at the spot he’d just been standing in, and after a pregnant pause you tentatively opened the screen door, stepping out cautiously. You had 911 pulled up on your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial as you stalked towards the fence, and after swallowing thickly, you leaned over its side, searching the forest floor for any signs of the creepy alpha.
But there was nothing – he wasn’t, as you’d suspected, laying there with two broken legs from the fall. No, in fact the only sign that he’d ever been there at all was the frantic beating of your heart and the lingering scent of his oncoming rut.
__________
You woke up three times during the night. The first time, it had been right before midnight, and it had been for no reason at all. No sound had awoken you, nor had a bad dream. After several minutes, you’d gone back to sleep, tossing and turning until waking up a second time.
It had been around 1:30 in the morning at that point, and it had taken you over an hour to sleep again. You kept thinking that you’d heard something from downstairs, but your late night paranoia told you not to go down and investigate.
The third time you woke up, it was a few minutes before 5, and you immediately knew that you weren’t alone. You felt a presence leaning over you, could hear his soft breathing. You froze, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep breathing at the same pace you had been while sleeping, but then you heard a soft, gravelly chuckle from close by.
“I know you’re awake, omega.”
Fuck.
You already knew that it was the alpha from before, but still you opened your eyes and sat up, clutching the covers to your chest as you looked up at him.
He was wearing the same clothes from before, except his gun holster was nowhere to be seen. Your phone, too, was gone from its usual perch on your nightstand, and your blood went cold as you breathed in his warm, overpowering scent.
“…Please,” you heard yourself whisper. “Please, don’t do this. I-“
“You shouldn’t have been so rude earlier,” he remarked, lowering himself down to sit on the side of the bed. “I would’ve rather not had to break in, but you left me no choice.”
You swallowed, tensing up even more when his eyes flashed down to your throat to track the movement. He looked so familiar now that you were so close to him; you just couldn’t put your finger on where you’d seen him before.
“Who are you?” you asked, and at first you thought that he hadn’t heard you. He made no reaction, and you opened your mouth to voice your question once more.
“I said who-“
“My name is Steve,” he interrupted you. “That’s all you need to know.”
You bit your lip and nodded, glancing over to the stairs, and then to the window. You knew, though, that you had no chance of running. He was standing between you and the staircase, and the window wasn’t even open. By the time you’d be able to pry it up, it would be too late; he’d be on you in a matter of seconds.
“Listen, Steve,” you started, forcing yourself to make and maintain eye contact with him. “I… I know this probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but… you were right earlier. I’ve never…been with anyone. And I don’t have an alpha. I’ve been waiting to find the right one for so…so long. Please, I’m begging you, don’t take that choice from me. I promise I won’t tell anyone I saw you, and I won’t make any trouble. Just…please don’t do this.”
He seemed to consider your words, and for a few moments you felt a spark of hope rise up in you. He tilted his head as he regarded you, and you silently willed him to leave you alone, to forget any of this happened.
“I didn’t think there were women like you around anymore,” he eventually murmured. “Some omegas these days don’t even settle down with an alpha, which was unheard of back in my day. And if I had a dollar for every time a cockhungry bitch in heat had thrown herself at me only to leave once she’d had her fill, well. I’d never have to work another day in my life.
“But then you show up in my life – innocent, pure, and loyal to an alpha you haven’t even met yet.”
Your eyes widened when he leaned towards you, and you squeezed the sheets as he cupped your cheek.
“I can see so much potential in you,” he breathed. “You could be such a good girl.”
He leaned toward even further, and you realized that he was going to kiss you. For a moment, all you could do was watch as his face got closer and closer, frozen by your fear and his suffocating scent, but as soon as his lips touched yours, your body leapt into action.
You threw yourself away from him as if he were on fire and scrambled to the stairs, your feet stumbling as you ran down them. Towards the last step, your ankle twisted beneath your weight, sending you crumpling to the ground. You cried out as your head hit the banister hard, but you ignored the ringing in your ears, forcing yourself to stand up again.
Movement caught your attention out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped dead in your tracks as you watched Steve calmly approach the staircase. Instead of starting to walk down, though, he hoisted himself over the rail and dropped to the first floor, landing in a crouch before standing up and sauntering over to you.
And that was when you realized why he looked so familiar. No normal person would be able to just do shit like that. And if you were to take away the beard, he would have the exact same face you’d seen in museums, textbooks, and newspapers throughout your entire life.
“…Captain America?”
Steve rolled his eyes and marched towards you, and you were so surprised that you didn’t even try to retreat.
“I used to be, doll,” he growled. “But I’m way past trying to be a hero for a world that doesn’t even want to be saved.”
You finally began to struggle when he set his hands on your hips, but he ignored your protests as he effortlessly picked you up.
“I understand,” he huffed, starting to carry you once more up the stairs. “Really, I do. You’re scared, and I’m a stranger.”
He dropped you onto the bed before shucking off his shirt, and you clambered backwards when he started to crawl over your body.
“But I’ve made my decision; you are my omega.”
The sound of fabric ripping coaxed a startle cry past your lips, and you tried to cover your chest when Steve tore your shirt away.
“Please-“
“Quit with the complaining, doll,” he huffed. “I’ll treat you right if you just let me-“
A sob escaped you when he took hold of your wrists and pinned them to either side of your head. Tears were running down your cheeks, and Steve’s knee between your thighs made it impossible to close your legs no matter how hard you tried to. For a moment, both of you simply looked at one another, one with terror in their eyes, the other with pure lust.
Steve’s nose skimmed your neck as he leaned down, inhaling your scent and nuzzling your mating gland. The sound that he made could only be described as a purr as he drank in your essence, and his hips started to lazily grind down against you.
“Fuck, you smell so sweet,” he groaned. “How haven’t you been mated yet?”
His tongue darted out, tracing the gland languidly. Shocks of pleasure coursed down from your neck to your spine, and you found yourself arching up of your own accord; you’d thought that it was a myth that more nerve endings existed in a person’s mating gland, but Steve was proving that theory wrong despite how much you didn’t want this.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he breathed. “Imagine how good it’ll be when I fuckin’ sink my teeth into you.”
“N-no-“
Your voice cut off into a stuttering moan when he nipped at the skin, not hard enough to pierce it but enough to make your hips buck upwards of their own accord.
“That’s my girl,” he praised. “Let yourself feel this; you deserve it. You’ve waited so long for a good, strong alpha to take care of you, haven’t you? My good little omega…”
Under any other circumstances, you would’ve preened under his praise, ever the stereotypical, eager-to-please omega, and you fought against the urge to lean into his touch. His scent had an almost dizzying effect on you, and your struggles were slowly growing weaker and weaker.
“I’ve heard that an alpha’s rut can sent their omega into an early heat,” he mused, letting one of his hands trail up to cup your breast. “I think we should test that theory.”
You whined when his thumb started circling your nipple, and an amused grin overtook his features.
“Good girl,” he praised, and you momentarily had enough clarity to glare at him from under your lashes.
“Fuck you,” you grunted, but he only chuckled.
“Well that’s the idea, sweetheart,” he remarked.
Suddenly, you felt the world spin around you, and suddenly you were on your belly.
“But if you use that language with me again,” he purred against your ear, “I’ll fuck your throat until I knot in that dirty little mouth of yours. Are we clear?”
Hurriedly, you nodded your head yes, and Steve’s hand slid down the curve of your spine.
“Good.”
You gasped when his arm snaked under your hips, pulling up on them until you were on your knees and elbows. You felt as if your cheeks were burning when he spread your ass cheeks, and you squirmed as you tried to close your legs.
“You’re already wet for me, omega,” he noted. “Your body wants this; why can’t you just give in?”
Despite his earlier threat, you were about to say something along the lines of ‘because fuck you, you star spangled asshole’, but then something cool and wet licked upwards from your clit to your entrance, and all of your thoughts faded to white noise.
Steve’s tongue slid into you slowly, stretching your hole in ways that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and the groan he let out at your taste was pornographic. At a slow, even pace, he started tongue fucking you, and you couldn’t control the moans that were spilling out of your lips. You reached out, gripping the nearest pillow and digging your nails into it as pleasure started flowing through you.
You whined when, all too soon, he pulled his tongue out, but when he slid it over your clit and started tracing quick, tight circles against your bud, you nearly screamed. A finger slid inside of you as your hips started rocking; it was obscene, and wrong, and humiliating, but you’d never felt anything like this before. Steve’s moans urged you on, and despite your fear, your hatred, of him, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your climax.
“S-steve,” you squeaked, “w-wait, fuck-“
You buried your face in the pillow as, all of a sudden, your orgasm came over you, but Steve’s free hand snapped up to your head and pulled it back by a handful of your hair, making you arch your back as you screamed his name. His finger curled inside of you as your pussy clenched around it, and he was murmuring soft words of encouragement as you came down from your high.
“There you go,” he purred. “You did so good for me. See how good your alpha takes care of you?”
Your head was still spinning when Steve pulled away, but your eyes snapped open when you heard the slide of fabric against skin. You looked over your shoulder and felt your blood ran cold when you saw him toss his jeans to the side, and immediately you looked down at his cock, already fully hard and leaking a bead of precum.
"N-no," you gasped, trying to crawl away. “Steve, no, please-“
But he only gripped your hips and pulled you back to him until you felt his hardness grind against your ass.
“Calm down, baby,” he murmured. “It’ll only hurt for a second.”
Before you could beg him anymore, he started pushing into you, and nothing could have prepared you for the stretch. It burned, so bad that all you could do was bite down on your hand and trying to hold back your tears as he impaled you.
“Fu-uck,” he groaned. “Oh, my god, baby. So good, so fucking good-“
He paused only when his head pushed painfully against your cervix, and for a long moment he stayed still, allowing you the small kindness of adjusting to his thickness.
“Shh, it’s ok,” he cooed, pressing his chest flush to your back. “The worst part is over, baby. We can take our time from here.”
He nuzzled your mating gland and cupped your tits, rolling them in his palms as he pressed kisses over the curve of your shoulder.
“This is the tightest little pussy I’ve ever felt,” he whispered. “You’re making your alpha feel so good, doll.”
And as twisted as it was, as much as you hated it, his words actually helped. Slowly, you let your muscles relax, and he rewarded you with an open-mouthed kiss to that sensitive spot in your neck. One of his hands snaked its way beneath your body and began toying with your still-sensitive clit, rubbing it until your hips squirmed against him.
He took your movements as a sign to move, and a surprised moan escaped your lips when he pulled back, nearly pulling out completely before thrusting forward. Your pussy made an embarrassingly loud squelching noise, but you found yourself grateful that you were wet enough to make the stretch that much more bearable.
Steve slowly began to find an easy rhythm, and despite his rough treatment of you, he was gentle as he took you. At least, as gentle as rape could be. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself; despite every sweet word that left his lips and despite every moan he managed to pull from yours, you still didn’t want this. You didn’t want him.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathed. “Best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had…”
You whined as he kept rubbing your clit, matching the rhythm of his fingers to the rhythm of his hips. Your body betrayed you as it started aching for more, and as he started speeding up you found yourself moving your hips back to meet his thrusts. Steve’s moans grew louder, and you heard a loud crack as his palm smacked your ass.
“Good girl-“ he panted. “Taking your alpha’s cock so well…”
Suddenly, he pulled out, leaving you empty and dripping and wanting, and you felt him shift upwards onto his knees. Roughly, he shoved your knees further apart and entered you again, immediately snapping his hips at a hard, brutal pace. Every thrust drew a moan out of your parted lips, and your arm and leg muscles were starting to shake.
The bed beneath you creaked loudly as he fucked you into the mattress, and your scents had mingled into something heady and warm and intoxicating. The founds of skin slapping skin was as intimate as it was erotic, and your moans became deeper, throatier as his pace suddenly shifted, slowing down as he bucked his hips harder. Each movement drew a strangled moan from your throat, and Steve’s fingers found your clit once again.
This was somehow even worse than the erratic, frantic claiming. This had somehow become more intimate, less frenzied, but the pleasure dulling your senses remained the same.
“Knew it from the first moment I smelled you,” Steve whispered, his voice strained and husky. “I knew that you were gonna be mine. ‘ve never met anyone like you.”
Your eyebrows furrowed together and you let out a low whine as the head of his cock brushed against a sensitive, delicious spot inside of you. Without thinking, you pushed back against him, silently urging him to move faster.
“Oh? Right there?” You nodded your head, mewling as he hit your g-spot again. “Right there, little omega?”
“Y-yes,” you gasped, resting your forehead against your arms. “Please…”
“Please what, little one?” he grunted, slowing down until he was only just barely grinding his hips. “Tell me what you want.”
You whined, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head; you wouldn’t say it out loud – your pride wouldn’t allow you to.
“Say it,” Steve urged. “I won’t give it to you until you do.”
You bit your lip, trying to ignore the fluttering in your pussy, urging Steve’s cock in deeper, but after a few seconds you snapped. With tears in your eyes, you looked over your shoulder at him, taking in the rapid rising and falling of his hips, the way his lips were parted as he watched you.
“…Fuck me,” you finally whispered, bowing your head as your defeat washed over you. “Please, fuck me…”
Your eyes widened when he pulled out of you completely, but you understood when he flipped you over onto your back. You stared up at him as he positioned himself at your entrance once again, and your back arched up as if you’d been electrocuted when he shoved himself inside of you once more.
His pace was no longer kind nor was it unhurried as he fucked you; you were both so tantalizingly close to your release, and now it was just a matter of chasing it. His moans escaped from behind clenched teeth as he gripped your thigh in one hand, hoisting it up and bending it until your knee was almost touching your chest. But from this angle, you felt him so deep inside of you that you didn’t care; you laid back and took it, clawing at his biceps as you got closer and closer.
All too soon, your body tensed up, your pussy clenching as you came. White exploded behind your eyes as the pleasure overtook you, and not even the ringing in your ears could drown out Steve’s names as you screamed it. You glanced up through your lashes to find the alpha’s eyes already gazing into your own, until he grit his teeth and threw his head back.
Your name was a prayer on his lips as he grew closer and closer, until he lunged forward with a growl. His tongue lapped at your mating gland in ways that had your pussy fluttering even after your release, but time seemed to stand still when you felt his teeth sink into your flesh.
You were vaguely aware of the heat of Steve’s cum as it painted your walls, and even your own, second, orgasm faded into the background. Your eyes were unseeing, your body unfeeling; the only thing you could focus on was your mating gland being bitten, being claimed, by Steve Rogers. It was a permanent mark of who you belonged to; a milky white scar would forever be left behind, as would the memory of who put it there.
A broken, distressed moan escaped your lips when he pulled away, but you immediately understood what he wanted when he bared his neck to you in a rare sign of submission, especially from an alpha like himself. As his knot swelled inside you, locking you in place, you leaned forward, licking your lips.
Later, you would blame it on your hormones, on your body’s natural instinct as an omega who had just been claimed. But whatever the true reason was for your actions, you latched onto his neck and bit his mating gland in return. The piercing of teeth against skin felt amazing in an explainable, primal way, and you both moaned as you marked Steve in the same, permanent way he’d marked you.
You stayed there until you’d both caught your breaths, reveling in your ability to hurt him, to wield control over him in the way he’d forcibly done to you. When you finally tasted his blood on your tongue, you let go, licking it off of your lips and wincing at how far his knot had stretched you.
Looking up into his blue eyes, the reality of it all came crashing down onto you; you’d been raped, claimed, by a total stranger. You knew of him only from history books and news reports, and now he was inside you, the mark on your neck a permanent part of him that would follow you for the rest of your days.
A sob wracked your shoulders, and your hands flew up to cover your face. A sad, almost pitying look swept across Steve’s features, and he gathered you into his arms as he rolled you onto your sides.
“Shhh, it’s ok,” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair. “I know, I know… It’s ok, omega. I’ve got you.”
You wanted to throw your fists against his chest; you wanted to slap the pitiful look off of his face. You wanted to throw yourself off of the deck just as he’d done hours earlier.
But instead you closed your eyes and let him whisper empty words of comfort to you until sleep finally, finally, came.
_____________
If it weren’t for the soreness that had spread all over your body, you would’ve thought it had all been a dream.
You woke up with the sheets neatly tucked around you. You were still naked, but your clothes from last night had been tucked away into the laundry hamper in the corner. You heard faint noises coming from the kitchen – the occasional clang of two plates clinking together, the sizzling of something on the stove – but there was nothing out of place in the bedroom.
Wincing, you pushed the covers back and stood up swaying unsteadily on your feet. You glanced in the mirror, feeling your blood run cold at the sight that greeted you. Your reflection was covered in bruises and bitemarks; you hadn’t even been aware of Steve biting you that much during last night’s activities. Your hair was a mess, but there was no dried cum along the inside of your thighs. He must have cleaned you up after his knot allowed the two of you to separate.
Gulping, you tilted your head and leaned forward, feeling a fresh wave of tears sting your eyes when you saw the red, irritated bitemark on your mating gland. Soon enough, the puffy flesh would calm down, and the crimson would be replaced by a silvery scar that would remain there for the rest of your life. Every look in the mirror would be a fresh reminder of what Steve had done to you.
Clearing your throat, you arranged your hair until it covered over the mark, and you reached into the dresser to pull out a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You didn’t really think that you could escape the famous Captain America, but you still crept down the stairs, avoiding the squeaky ones you’d discovered yesterday as you made your slow descent.
Upon reaching the first floor, your eyes focused on the side table next to the front door, but your keys weren’t resting on it like you’d left them yesterday. A disappointed sigh left your lips, and you tiptoed closer to the door. Maybe you could make it on foot-
“I made breakfast,” you suddenly heard Steve call from the kitchen. “Come and get it before it gets cold.”
Your heart sank, and you immediately knew that there would be no use in trying to leave now. Squaring your shoulders, you cautiously made your way to him, your abused pussy aching with every step you took.
Steve was standing over the sink, washing a pan and wearing only a pair of sweatpants. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten them; you doubted he could have fit into any of your aunt’s clothes.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” he instructed you, not looking up from the pan. “I’ll bring over our plates. Do you like coffee?”
You bit your lip and did as he said, lowering yourself into the seat with a wince. Steve finally looked up when he heard your sharp inhalation, and guilt flashed across his face.
“I’ll get you some pain killers,” he said. “Can you take ibuprofen?”
You looked down at the table, wringing your hands in your lap.
“…I’d prefer Tylenol,” you murmured. “And yes, I like coffee.”
The alpha nodded, and you continued resolutely staring at the table, even when he set down a plate of steaming eggs and bacon, a mug of coffee, and a bottle of pain killers. You mechanically took four of the pills, washing them down with the black coffee. You jumped when Steve settled down into the chair across from yours, but you refused to look up at him as he began devouring his meal.
“…You should eat something,” he remarked, but you ignored him, only taking another sip of your coffee. With a sigh, he set down his fork, swallowing a bit of eggs before addressing you again.
“I mean it,” he insisted. “I haven’t even started my rut yet; you’ll need the strength.”
A tear slipped out of your eyes, and you looked down at your food. With shaking fingers, you picked up a slab of bacon, but when its smell hit you, you felt bile rise up in your throat. You immediately dropped it, taking another gulp of coffee to help push down your nausea.
“Hon,” Steve huffed. “C’mon. At least try.”
“I’m not hungry,” you muttered.
“Just one bite, then,” he persisted. “Please.”
You shot him a glare from beneath your lashes, but he only raised his eyebrows expectantly. You stared until you couldn’t stand the sight of him, and your resolve crumbled as you finally looked down. Picking up your fork, you shoveled a bite of scrambled egg into your mouth, not tasting it as you chewed and then swallowed.
“There,” you grumbled. “Happy?’
Steve once again sighed through his nose, but he only shook his head and went back to eating. For a long moment, the two of you were silent, until he finished his plate and slid yours over towards himself.
“So,” he started, picking up the piece of bacon you hadn’t been able to stomach. “You obviously don’t live here. Who does? A relative – sister, maybe? Is she the one in all the photos?”
You didn’t answer him, and with a frustrated grunt he reached over, grabbing your hand.
“I know that you probably hate me,” he mumbled. “And I can understand why. But we’re together now; you might as well make the most of it. Tell me about yourself.”
Your chest ached with unshed tears, and you looked down at his massive palm as it engulfed yours.
“…I always dreamed about falling in love,” you finally spoke. “I didn’t care who it was with – an alpha or a beta. I just knew that I wanted to love the person I shared my first time with. They didn’t have to be my mate, and I never expected it to be perfect. But I wanted it to mean something.”
You looked up, clenching your jaw as you pulled your hair away, showing him the bonding mark still fresh on your neck.
“You…took that from me,” you growled. “And you stole so much more than just my virginity. You took my choice; you made the years that I’d waited for someone special mean nothing. And I’ll never be able to forget it because of this fucking scar you left behind. So no, I’m not going to make the most out of a shitty situation, because no matter how nice we play, no matter how much I try, it will always and forever be a shitty thing that you did.”
Steve’s jaw clenched, and you flinched when he abruptly stood up from his chair. You pressed yourself against the back of the chair as he towered over for you, and you feared the worst when you saw his hands clench into fists at his side.
“…I’m going out,” he growled. “If you try to run, I’ll find you.”
With that, he stormed out, nearly yanking the front door off its hinges and letting it slam shut behind him. For the next several seconds, the only sounds in the room were the muffled birdsong from outside and the ticking of a clock from the hallway.
Eventually, you stood up, bringing your still-full plate into the kitchen and scraping its contents into the trash can. Your mating gland throbbed, but inside you felt nothing but numbness as you went about your cleaning.
After everything was spotless, you futilely searched for your keys, but Steve must have taken them with him. And despite your earlier desire to try and flee on foot, a gut instinct told you that he’d meant it when he said he would find you. You were miles away from a road that wasn’t made of dirt or gravel, and even the nearest highway was even more miles from any signs of civilization. You were well and truly stuck here.
Not knowing what else to do, you went outside onto the back deck, where it had all started. You sat out there until the sun was high in the sky, and it must have been hours until you heard the screen door open. You kept your eyes focused on the forest around you as Steve sat down next to you, and you remained still as a statue even as you felt his eyes baring into you.
“…I first came here two weeks ago,” he started. “No one was here, so I used it as a safehouse. I’ve been on the run since…since the Avengers split apart.”
The only response you gave him was a nod, and he took that as a sign to continue on.
“It had been a while for me. Since I’d…been with anyone. Ever since I was given the serum, my ruts have been more intense. At first, I tried to ignore them, fight ‘em off, but eventually that just stopped working.
“When I first saw you, smelled you, I knew that I wanted you,” he sighed. “Everything else kind of…faded into the background. Your scent was enough to send me spiraling towards a rut. Hell, I haven’t even started it yet, but it’s gonna be one of my most intense ones yet.
“I’m not saying that I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Because I know we’re way past that. And I’m not gonna say I’m not gonna do it again, cuz even now it’s taking all of my willpower not to bend you over the side of the balcony. But I guess I’m saying that… I get what I’ve done to you. I know it’s…heinous. And a younger me would’ve been disgusted with it. But now that we’re bonded to each other, I’m going to make this work.”
You turned to him, feeling your blood go cold at how determined he sounded.
“Make this… Steve, this can’t… There’s no future for us,” you stammered. “We don’t know each other; you, you raped me. There is no ‘making this work’.”
“Yes, there is,” he insisted. “I waited for someone special too, you know. I let the only woman I ever loved slip out of my fingers; when I woke up after the ice, I knew I wasn’t gonna just spend the rest of my life with anybody. And even if we don’t know each other, it doesn’t mean it’ll always be that way. We can learn-“
“I don’t want to learn!” you exclaimed, rushing to your feet. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you! If you’re bound and determined to ride out the rest of your rut with me, then fine. I’ll hate it, but I’ll get it. Use me like a glorified sex doll like you did last night. But don’t turn this into something it’s not. Just leave me the fuck alone once you’ve had your fun.”
“No.”
Steve stood up, towering over you, and you stumbled backwards as he advanced towards you.
“You don’t want me to be your alpha? Well tough shit,” he spat. “You should’ve thought about that before you bit me back.”
You opened your mouth to deny it, but then your eyes fell onto the side of his neck, and your mouth snapped shut. It was a perfect mirror of your own scar, and you gulped when Steve tilted his head to the side so he could get a better view of it. Your teeth were perfectly imprinted in red right over his gland, and sick shame washed over you as you stared at it.
“I’m going to carry around a piece of you for the rest of my life,” he continued, starting to walk towards you again. “So you’d better be damned sure that I’m not going to let you go anywhere.”
A gasp escaped your parted lips when you felt your ass press against the deck’s railing, and you looked over your shoulder to see a fifteen foot drop just on its other side. Gulping, you turned back around, and once again Steve was towering over you, his scent wafting to your nostrils as he caged you in.
“I’m yours just as much as you’re mine, sugar,” he growled. “I’d get used to it if I were you.”
One of his hands tangled in your hair, and then, before you knew it, he was pressing his lips to yours, His other hand trailed up the side of your neck, tracing his bitemark with his fingertips in ways that shot tingles all the way down your spine, to your toes, and back up again. Your whole body twitched at the sensation, and a laugh that sounded more like a purr sounded from his chest.
“I’ll always love how responsive you are,” he murmured. “And eventually, one day, I’ll love the rest of you. Even that bratty little mouth of yours.”
You whimpered when his hands moved down to your hips, picking you up and setting you on the rail. You gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders, leaning towards him and away from the drop behind you.
“Steve!” you exclaimed. “Wait, I don’t-“
“I’m tired of waiting,” he interrupted. “You’ve been walking around in those tiny shorts all fucking day. I’ve held back for long enough.”
He reached down and roughly yanked your shirt up, tearing it down your arms and tossing it behind him. Your nipples pebbled as your breasts were exposed to the slight chill in the spring air, and goosebumps rose up all over your torso.
“I fucking love your tits,” he growled, dipping his head down to suck on one of your nipples. His hand roughly rolled and groped your other breast, and you fought not to arch your back, already feeling off balance as you tried to remain seated on the thin rail.
“Steve, can we please go inside-“
“No, baby,” he grunted. “I need you right here, right now.”
He did, however, pull you forward, and you let out a huff of relief when your feet met solid ground once again. Your relief was short-lived, however, as he turned you around and pushed you forward with a hand between your shoulder blades. You bent down, clutching the top of the low fence and staring at the forest floor below as he ground his erection against your ass. He was already half-hard, growing harder by the second as he rubbed himself against you.
“At least I chose the best pussy I’ve ever felt,” he mused, and you whined when two fingers suddenly plunged into you.
Your slick sounds were obscenely loud, and despite the cabin’s isolation, you felt a fleeting stab of fear that someone would hear him as he fingered you. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the top of the rail, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your moan when Steve’s thumb found your clit.
“No, no, no,” he chided. “I want to hear you, little one. Let me hear those cute little noises you make.”
He reached down and grabbed your wrist, pulling it away as his thumb traced quick, tight circles against your bud. All the while, he was still grinding his clothed erection against the curve of your ass, and your thoughts swam as he added a third finger inside of you.
“I did make you feel good last night,” he breathed. “Didn’t I? You came…I think it was three times? Fuck, I think you were just as desperate as I was.”
He chuckled, pulling his hand away.
“But who am I kidding? I’m still desperate for you.”
Without warning, he spun you around and sat you on the rail once again, shoving his sweatpants down before lining his cock up with your entrance. It all happened so fast; you had no time to prepare yourself as he slid into you in one fluid, fast motion.
“Oh, god-“ you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders. “Steve, please, it hurts-“
“It’s gonna hurt these first couple of times, babygirl,” he sighed, as if he were an exasperated teacher trying to explain a difficult problem to you. “But if you just, fuck-“
He was cut off by his own moan as he started thrusting, not pausing to give you any time to adjust before starting to pump his hips forward.
“If you just relax,” he continued, “then it’ll feel better.”
You clung to him as he started pounding into you, letting your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. There was nothing else you could do as he snapped his hips; you were powerless against him as he used you for his own pleasure.
Oh, and you’re not getting anything out of this? A treacherous voice whispered to you in the back of your mind, and as you started to feel the same pleasure as you had last night, it grew louder and louder. He’s right – it does feel good. Just give in; it would be so easy to just enjoy it.
You couldn’t bite back a moan as the head of his cock brushed against your g-spot, just as it had last night, and Steve rewarded you by snaking a hand between your bodies and rubbing your clit with his thumb once more. The stimulation to your bud made your thighs tremble, and you found your hips rolling forward as you felt that familiar knot start to tighten in your belly.
Your eyes opened, and you found yourself face to face with your bite mark. In your pleasure-addled mind, you couldn’t help but admire the impression that now marked his flesh; you thought back to how it had felt to bite him, to sink your teeth into him as he’d made you cum a second time with his cock buried deep inside of you.
As if reading your thoughts, Steve leaned downwards, and you cried out when he fit his teeth into your fresh scar once again. It hurt like a bitch, but it also felt perfect, as if a puzzle piece you hadn’t realized you were missing had finally found its rightful place in your body. You let your instincts guide you as you opened your mouth, first licking at Steve’s mating gland before sinking your own teeth into his bond mark.
Steve’s hips stilled, and you felt him growl as he pulled you tighter against him. He removed his teeth from you and squeezed your ass, picking you up.
“Keep biting me,” he commanded, his voice huskier than you’d ever heard it. “Don’t you fucking stop.”
You whined and nodded, biting harder as he pressed your back against the screen door. Once again, he started pounding into you, starting out at a punishing rhythm as he held you aloft. You could tell he was close, and you weren’t far behind him.
“I’m gonna fill you up again, omega,” he grunted. “Gonna make your belly round and – fuck – and swollen with my child. Gonna cum in you again and again and again, just like I know you need.”
A moan escaped your throat, and you let go of his neck to let your head fall back against the glass. Your eyes met his pleadingly, captured by those intense, terrifying blue irises as you both approached your peak.
“You gonna cum?” he murmured, and you nodded wordlessly, whimpers and groans spilling out of your open mouth as he snapped his hips harder.
He thrust one, two more times before you both snapped, and your screams of release mingled together as you came. His knot pushed past your entrance, swelling inside of you as his cum filled your pussy, and you let out a low groan at the strange sensation. Your nails were biting into his biceps, but neither of you cared as you rode out the aftershocks.
Last night, you’d been able to find respite in falling asleep, in not having to deal with the immediate consequences of what Steve had done to you and of what you’d done to him in return. But now, you were wide awake, watching in horror as the alpha, your alpha, caught his breath.
“…How long does it take for your knot to go away?” you asked in a quiet, almost timid voice.
“Um…” Steve thought about it. “Typically about twenty minutes.”
You sighed, closing your eyes.
“Fuck.”
“You know, now would be a good time for us to talk, since you refused to earlier.”
You shot Steve a withering glare, and he only chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“You’re not like any of the other omegas I’ve met,” he murmured.
“If you’re seriously going to tell me I’m not like other girls,” you quipped, “I’m going to throw both of us off this balcony.”
Steve chuckled again, tightening his grip on you and walking you over to the outdoor couch. You were feeling a medley of confusing, conflicting emotions, and you looked away as you fought to process all of them. It was true, what they said – you did feel more vulnerable after having sex with Steve. You refused to cry, though. You’d wasted enough time and energy on tears.
“I meant what I said, you know,” the alpha suddenly said. You pulled back enough to meet his eyes, arching an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?”
“When I said I wanted to get you pregnant,” he clarified. “You would look beautiful with my child growing inside of you.”
Your eyes grew comically wide, and you had to look away.
“I… I’m not ready to have kids,” was all you said, and Steve nodded thoughtfully.
“I’m not really in a position to have them, either,” he sighed, letting his head fall back. “I’m still on the run from Tony until everything blows over. It’s not a situation to bring a child up in.
“But one day, omega,” he said, his voice dipping low in its timber as he grew more serious, “I’m going to fuck a baby into you. I don’t want to hear any lip about it, either.”
You bit your trembling lip at the thought of being pregnant with this man’s child; if that ever were to happen, you really would be well and truly stuck with him.
You couldn’t think about that, though. You wouldn’t let yourself think about it. As Steve rubbed your back, waiting until his knot released you, the only thing you could think about was getting from one moment to the next. You didn’t know how or when you would manage to do it, but one thing was for certain.
One day, you would find a way to escape Steve Rogers. After all, it was like your aunt had said in her letter – you were strong. Even stronger than Captain America. And the only thing in life you needed was you.
#Steve Rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#dark!steve rogers#dark!steve rogers x reader#alpha!steve rogers#alpha!steve#omega!reader
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