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brat-in-a-teacup · 6 months

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brat-in-a-teacup · 6 months

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If I could, I would vanish in an instant.

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brat-in-a-teacup · 7 months

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Moon speaks of love silentlys

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brat-in-a-teacup · 1 year

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fragile

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Alpha/Omega dynamics so I'm tagging non-con AND dub-con for the later parts but it's pretty tame for this chapter but there are mentions of Steve's thoughts on Omegas. World building as usual. Mentions of drugs, misogynistic old school thoughts.

Word Count: 1,550

Notes: This won't be a long fic. Maybe three or four parts at most.

Dark! Alpha Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary | Working at the Avengers compound is a dream come true. You have everything you've ever wanted until a small security breach reveals a secret that has Steve Rogers very interested in who you truly are.

Little routines make you happy.

Like the extra splash of creamer in your coffee. Using the small wooden stirrer instead of the plastic one gives you a sense of pride that you’re making an effort, even a small one, to save the environment.

But the routine you have, the one you have to keep in secret, makes you lock the door as you unlock your safe, dolling out two little pills that could get you arrested if you’re caught. Black market grade, the sort that you have to head to the seedier part of town to receive. To make up a story about how you’re just a buyer who will then turn around and sell it. If that were true, you’d make a hell of a lot more money than you would where you are now.

But you like your job. Love it even. Getting a job at the Avengers compound was a dream come true. A record five interviews, each one more intense than the last to ensure that you could be trusted with data and confidential information. Your past work experience had spoken for itself but it was your final interview, with Nick Fury at the helm that made you his choice.

Despite the nerve wracking questions, you answered them with grace and charm, Fury’s small smile inching at his lips when you replied about your handling of a massive data breach for a firm you used to work at. Your strategy was simple but effective, finding who had let the security patch expire and your recommendations were strict but fair.

And now here you are, tracking missions and in charge of people. A far cry from what you were told was impossible for someone like you.

Against all odds and a little help from your pills, you’re free to do whatever you want. And being a surveillance specialist at the top and answering only to Fury is a damn good start.

💊

Steve shakes out his umbrella, watching you head inside the compound as your black trench coat fans out behind you. Elusive as you are, Steve can’t help but wonder how Fury selected you. Not that he is complaining. He doesn’t mind Betas. You’re a dime a dozen and for once, he wished that Fury would go against the grain and place an Alpha as the surveillance specialist for the team.

He almost wishes for an Omega but he knows that is against the rules. They aren’t allowed in that position. Too triggering for their heats, being around Alphas like the team and that wouldn’t be worth the paperwork or PR twist if it got out of hand. But you don’t say a single word to him unless you need to and for Steve, he understands it. Betas can go either way. Amicable or all business and today, as he catches up to you, watching you at the coffee bar, stirring your coffee with that thin wooden stirrer, he almost swears he smells something sweet until the scent is gone.

He chalks it up to your light perfume and pours himself a cup while you toss the stirrer into one of the sorted bins, giving him a slight nod.

“Captain Rogers,” you greet, continuing on your way.

Two words. That’s all you ever say to him. He’s tried to be polite and welcoming to the various designations that have come through these doors. Sam hosts a mixer for the new employees, giving his usual speech about welcoming everyone and making them feel included. He uses Steve as his model of acceptance. A big, strong Alpha who is for Omega’s rights, including his PowerPoint photo of Steve in a candid shot helping build homes for the less fortunate designation. Steve hates the publicity.

He hates that he’s lying to himself.

Steve can’t bring himself to tell Sam that he doesn’t really a shit about their rights. Sure, he can play the part. Hand out buttons and flyers, listen to them speak on fair treatment and sign his support on their petitions. Take pictures, keep his hands where he knows it’s allowed and where it makes them nervous.

But he’s an old school Alpha. The sort that wants – craves – an Omega at home, to be at his beck and call. When he allows himself to zone out, thinking of how his future Omega would scurry to do his bidding, it makes his throat ache with the need to find one and just take them for his own, commanding them to do whatever he sees fit, making sure they take his knot whenever and wherever he wants. He’s spied the claimed ones on his way into the compound, the bite marks on their necks as they trail behind their Alphas. It’s the way nature intended it to be and he isn’t going to ever apologize for that thought.

But it’s those thoughts that he keeps to himself, too much of a pillar of solidarity to go against the grain.

Still.

That scent lingers long enough for him to hang his head back out from the immaculate break area, watching you speak to Fury, his rapid fire directions making you nod your head in agreement. Fury doesn’t give compliments often – if at all – but Steve has heard of your talent and seen it beforehand, bringing down four assailants within a few hours with a simple hacking code and exposing their location. He wonders what you’ll do next with the information Fury is giving up, your head turning at his stare as your chin inches up, your eyes narrowing at him before you say something to Fury and his eyes are on Steve.

“Not enough on your plate, Cap?” Fury asks while you walk away. “Or do you want me to add to it?”

Steve doesn’t hide his disdain at the questions, shrugging before he heads toward his office, stopping only to watch you continue up the stairs, still not looking at him.

“You said she was good,” Steve tells him. “Not very personable.”

“Personable doesn’t save lives, Captain. She’s damn good. Doesn’t mean she needs to be a friend to everyone. She likes to work alone.”

“Alone,” Steve repeats. “A Beta through and through.”

“Or an Alpha,” Fury offers up with a shrug. “We’re not into asking designations, here.”

“Right,” Steve agrees, watching the door close. “Duly noted.”

💊

With two clicks, the fan on your desk goes full speed, the air flow cooling off the perspiration that was beginning to form on your brow. The side effects from the off the market pills can be severe. Cramping, headaches and unexplained hot flashes. You’d rather take the hot flashes than the cramping and you know you shouldn’t take another two pills until you return tomorrow.

The knock at the door makes you jump in your chair, shutting off the fan while you dab at your forehead with a napkin before crumpling it and tossing it into the trash.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Steve,” comes the reply.

You don’t want to particularly answer the door. It’s locked, bolted shut in case anyone dares to try to come inside. Valuing your privacy is important and the last thing you need is Steve trying to get into your reports.

“Just a minute,” you call out, sweeping the bottle and a pen into your drawer before you take another look at your appearance and stand.

When you unlock the door, Steve waits for you to invite him in, motioning with your head for him to come inside. When he passes, you smell his scent – petrichor, pine and a hint of sandalwood.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says casually, taking a seat across from your desk. “Wanted to apologize if it seemed like I was trying to spy on you.”

“Spy on me?”

Steve shrugs in his seat.

“You and Fury looked like you were having an intense discussion. Everything okay?”

“Fine,” you answer with a nod. “Are you concerned?”

“Well,” Steve begins, stretching out his legs. “Surveillance is a big deal. I think I have a right to know what’s been going on.”

“Nothing new to report.”

“Hmm,” Steve replies, eyes lifting to yours. “Interesting. I could have sworn I saw some notes from you in a case file a few days ago.”

“Only because it was relevant to your mission. Otherwise, it’s nothing. Just notes.”

You know your voice is almost too authoritative when he raises an eyebrow.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you counter, trying to find an excuse to put some space between you both. “I have another report to finish.”

His smile never falters when he inspects your empty desk, getting up with a slight nod before he inhales briefly.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he tells you, heading toward the door before he stops short of it. “It’s good having various designations around, don’t you agree?”

“What?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“I heard Betas are great at keeping things professional. Proving me right. Have a good afternoon.”

“You too,” you tell him quietly, watching him leave as you realize your hand is balled so tightly into a fist that you can feel your fingernails pressing into your palm before you close the door.

Tomorrow is another day.

Another time for you to take your pills.

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brat-in-a-teacup · 2 years

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L.G.B.T.Q.I.A.PEDROPASCAL +

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brat-in-a-teacup · 2 years

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“my first on-screen kiss? i wanna say, like, “tony n’ tina’s wedding”… probably gossip girl. yeah, maybe gossip girl. i don’t know. i think so. i gotta remember it. happy valentine’s day! be careful. protect your heart”.

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brat-in-a-teacup · 2 years

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