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annathewitch · 7 years

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An Entire Ocean

Summary: Bones x reader, pirate!au. Autumn 1715. Travelling from Boston to Barbados to meet your betrothed, your ship is captured by Black Jim and the pirates of the dread ship Enterprise, including the tall, dark and objectionable Bones. Part 1 of about 3.

Word Count: 5500

Warnings: Swearing, panic attack, may be further warnings in future parts.

A/N: Written for the @yourtropegirl Historical AU challenge Golden Age of Piracy era. This has been so much fun, but is totally outside of my normal writing experience! I hope you enjoy! Title is from a poem by Nikita Gill.

Standing at the rail near the prow of the Mary Charlotte as it sliced a steady path through gentle rolling swells, you turned your face into the spray and inhaled deep breaths of fresh salty air. After being confined belowdecks for the last days to suffer the wild pitching and tossing of the barque during a most tiresome storm, you were relieved and excited to feel sun and the rush of a warm Atlantic breeze.

Although it felt uncharitable to think it, you were secretly pleased that Mrs Stewart did not yet feel equal to emerging from the cabin you shared. While you had disliked the feeling of being thrown about your berth, your companion had been left retching miserably at every movement.

However, her seasickness had not prevented the matron from assuming her usual stern, disapproving demeanour and she had scolded you soundly to properly dress your hair and tighten your stays before leaving the cabin. When you grumbled that it wasn’t as if you had the need or inclination to impress any gentlemen on the ship, she merely narrowed her eyes and repeated the promise she had made to your elderly aunt, to ensure you maintained proper Boston standards of decorum until your safe delivery to your betrothed, even if savage seamen were unlikely to appreciate it.

It chafed at you that everyone treated you like some beautifully wrapped, fragile package, to be carefully couriered to the allotted destination, while you had very little say in the matter. It was only your future after all. But while Mrs Stewart recovered her spirits you were free to wander the ship at your pleasure and enjoy a small amount of liberty and excitement. Perhaps the last I shall get.

Shaking your head, you squashed that melancholy thought and picked your way carefully across the deck, minding the orderly bustle of seamen going about their work, to approach the steps to the quarterdeck. The Captain had generously given you leave to sit up there, as long as you kept out of the way, and you had found it to be a perfect spot to observe the daily routine of the ship, and to read a little.

A man of few words, Captain Carter politely expressed his pleasure at seeing you up and about, before returning to the business of adjusting course, and, abandoning your parasol, you settled on your little wooden stool with your book open on your lap. Orders were bellowed to the crew, Topmen dropped sails and as the Mary Charlotte tacked, she heeled to starboard to better catch the wind and propel you more quickly to Barbados.

Since leaving the dull, comfortable familiarity of your Aunt’s home in Boston some weeks earlier, your final destination and your future life there had never been far from your mind. When your father had visited last year, he had hinted at the possibility of your marrying, but it had come as a surprise when his letter had arrived in the spring presenting your betrothal to the son of a dear friend as a fait accompli. Some great service had been rendered by that family and your father had considered it a debt of honour to be settled through offering the hand of his only daughter.

Over the summer, whatever childish hopes you had held for a match of mutual feeling you suppressed, until you were resigned to the inevitability of your marriage to a man you had no more than a vague childhood recollection of. You trusted your father, and felt your sense of duty keenly. However, that did nothing to quell the growing nervousness, as each mile brought you closer to Barbados, that you were to live with a virtual stranger for the rest of your days, in a place you could barely remember. Fingering the locket that was your mother’s, you swallowed the lump in your throat and attempted to absorb the lines of French on the page of your book.

Some miles away, just out of the view of the watchful eyes of the midshipman in the Mary Charlotte’s crow’s nest, another vessel was lying to, sails furled and riding the gentle swells. Waiting.

On the main deck of the ship a dark-haired man leaned against the rails, staring contemplatively out at the vast expanse of ocean. These days, he didn’t often wonder at the strange turns his life had taken, but today was different. It marked four years since he had discovered the treachery of women and taken to the sea to try and forget. It had been the whim of a drunk, and he had fully expected the disease and danger of seafaring to kill him, but here he was alive and well. And restless.

As he frowned at the unwelcome intrusion of long abandoned hopes, he was joined by a younger man, who leaned back against the hammock netting beside him and sighed.

“It’s too quiet. We are overdue some excitement.”

The first man huffed and turned to the other with a grim smile. “For once I find myself in need of some distraction too. We should not linger here too long, or we risk discovery by those who would dearly like to capture this ship and it’s notorious captain. I’m sure that’s not the kind of excitement you imply.”

“No my friend.” The younger man paused. “It is your anniversary is it not?” Receiving only a grunt in reply he continued, “I may not be a well-educated man, but I know enough to tell you not to let the past rob you of your future.”

The other opened his mouth to form a cynical reply, after all what sort of future could he expect, but he was forestalled by an excited shout from the top of the mainsail. “Sail-ho! A merchantman!”

His friend grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Looks like Chekov has found us that excitement. Time to gussy up Bones!”

“Aye Captain,” he muttered, but the ship’s master was already halfway across the deck, shouting orders to set the sails and come about. There would be plenty of time, and plenty of rum, to be melancholy later.

The first you knew that something was amiss, was when the shrill sound of the bosun’s whistle was heard from above decks. You had been about to sit down to a noon meal in the officers wardroom, but the urgency of the sound sent your company scurrying up the companionway and, curious, you made to follow them.

As you emerged out of the hatch onto the main deck, cursing your skirts for being so cumbersome, there was a strange kind of tension and an unusual stillness had fallen over the vessel. The crew, to a man, were staring up at the top of the mainsail where the midshipman on watch had been joined by the Chief Mate. He had his legs looped in the rigging and his spyglass trained on the far horizon in the wake of the ship. After a few moments he stowed the glass and rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, before shouting “‘Tis a frigate. No colours.”

A low murmuring started amongst the crew, and you knew as well as they did that a ship flying no colours was an ominous sign. They leapt to action as a series of orders were issued and you pressed yourself against a rail out of the way. From there, looking out towards the horizon, your naked eye could just discern the white smudge of sails, almost blending into the wispy clouds. Eventually a midshipman tugged on your sleeve.

“Begging your pardon miss, but the Captain would like a word.” He escorted you onto the quarterdeck where you waited as Carter observed the progress of the unknown vessel with a worried frown.

“Miss Y/L/N, you seem a sensible young lady, so I will be blunt. It appears we are being pursued and there is every chance that it is by pirates.” You swallowed thickly, having your suspicions confirmed.

“Are we in danger Captain Carter?”

He paced a couple of steps up and down the deck before answering. “It is a frigate, and likely faster than this lady, we are laden with cargo. We will try and outrun them and the men are trimming the sails as we speak. But should they catch up with us it is hard to know what they may do. If I give the order you must lock yourself in your cabin with Mrs Stewart and I will do my best to see that you come to no harm.”

It was more words than he had spoken to you for the entire voyage, but none of the others had shaken you so. Not wanting to appear frightened or missish, you lifted your chin stubbornly and nodded crisply. “Yes sir, I will do as you say.”

Something in your expression must have betrayed you, as the Captain laid a hand on your arm and said in as soft a voice as he could manage, “Do not worry, the cargo will be their object.”

The next half hour saw a hundred minor adjustments to sail and course, each trying to get the ship to produce a vital burst of speed, but it was to no avail. Slowly the smudge of sails grew larger and more distinct and there was no doubt that the Mary Charlotte would be slowly but inevitably reeled in like a large fish. A leaden feeling grew in your gut.

At length, the stalking ship was clearly visible and Chief O’Brien raised his spyglass to see if it was possible to determine its identity. He swore under his breath, before glancing at you and apologising. “I beg your pardon miss, but Captain, I would swear on my mother’s grave that it is the Enterprise.”

Carter visibly blanched under his ruddy seafarer’s complexion. “The Enterprise? Black Jim? God help us,” he muttered. Removing his hat and wiping a hand across his damp brow, he turned to you. “Miss Y/L/N it is time for you to go belowdecks. I will come for you myself when this storm has passed.” You bobbed a curtsey and hurried to do as you were bid.

In the cabin, Mrs Stewart was sleeping soundly and you were loathe to wake her until the situation became dire. So you shot the bolt on the cabin door and dragged your trunk across it. You tried to sit on your berth, but could not rest. Every creak and groan of the timbers, every muffled shout and footstep made you jump. So you paced the four steps up and down the narrow space between the beds, trying fruitlessly to avoid thinking about what was going on above and what fate was to befall the Mary Charlotte, until she heeled hard to port. At the same moment, the unmistakeable thunder of cannon fire rattled the very walls and your companion sat up with a scream.

Bones climbed up the steps to the quarterdeck of the Enterprise to take his customary position behind his Captain. He was dressed to the nines in his best shirt and a richly embroidered coat, as were the rest of the crew. As a raw recruit to the ship he had laughed it off as a silly affectation, but he couldn’t deny that they made an intimidating spectacle and goddammit if it wasn’t effective.

As he buckled on his sword and adjusted his eye patch, he saw that the pursuit had unfolded much as he had expected. Despite the desperate manoeuvres of the merchant barque, the distance between them had closed until they were perhaps a half mile apart. Though they did not know it, it was a fool’s errand to try and outrun the Enterprise with Sulu at the helm and Captain Jim Kirk’s instinctive knack for predicting the winds. There was not a more dangerous predator on the high seas.

He was joined by Mr Spock, a strange, stiff sort of fellow with a cool logical head that made him ideally suited for his role as quartermaster.

The Captain turned to them, the thrill of the chase evident in the fierce expression in his eyes. “I have a good feeling about this one, and the way we are reeling her in it is as if she was destined to be ours!”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I do not believe it is a matter of destiny Captain, she is a large vessel and judging from the way she is sitting low in the water she is well loaded. As such she is far slower than we are, and likely to have a promising cargo. It’s an entirely logical pursuit,” he said flatly.

Kirk laughed. “Aye Spock, but destiny put her in our way. We shall overhaul them in short order, let’s put on a good show.” He winked at his two crew mates and bellowed, “All hands to their stations, man the guns! Prepare to intercept across their starboard bow.”

The main deck swarmed with activity, accompanied by the low rumble of the frigate’s thirty-six guns being run out. Crewmen lined the rails with swords and pistols, and a few marksmen climbed the rigging with muskets. They were close enough now that Bones could see the crew on the unfortunate barque scuttling around in futile preparations; even to his inexpert eye the merchant ship was not well armed.

He checked his own pair of pistols and braced against the heeling motion of the Enterprise as it overtook the Mary Charlotte and cut across her bow, throwing up a churn of white foam and spray. The other ship had no choice but to turn hard to port to avoid a collision.

“Let’s give them an Enterprise welcome lads! Fire two across their bow,” Jim ordered. The deck of the ship erupted into a deafening clamour of shouting and rattling of swords and the roar of the port cannon sent two shots whistling within feet of the Mary Charlotte’s bowsprit. A deft turn brought the Enterprise alongside its prey, guns primed and aimed, and the Captain swaggered across the quarterdeck to the port rail, heedless of several pairs of pistols aimed at him across the water.

“Avast and back off your sails! Prepare to be boarded. Resist and we’ll show no quarter to any man,” the Captain boomed through his speaking trumpet. His counterpart and lieutenant were engaged in furious discussion and Bones waited with breath held to see if they would be sensible in the face of such odds. Not all men were, he recalled grimly, and it was such an unnecessary waste. A flag was waved to indicate acceptance and he sighed in relief.

A short while later a well-armed boarding party, including Bones, had crossed to the other ship to accept surrender. Some of the captured crew had thought they could salvage some of their damaged pride and had started a scuffle that was swiftly suppressed when one of the marksmen in the sails of the Enterprise shot Captain Carter’s hat clean off. The perpetrators were knocked out with pistol butts and lashed to the rails.

“Keep your men under control, or you will pay the price,” Kirk smiled at his counterpart as he ascended to take control of the wheel, but the threat glinted in his eyes and he drew a pistol to drive the point home. “Are these all your hands? I don’t want to find a nasty surprise belowdecks.”

Carter swallowed, and threw a nervous look towards his Chief Mate. “Aye, tis all my men.”

It was Spock who spotted the evidence of his prevarication, as he cast an appraising eye over the deck, he noticed the parasol tucked in the corner where you had abandoned it earlier that day. Bringing it to Kirk he cleared his throat. “Captain, unless these gentlemen are particularly careful to protect their complexion from the sun, I would surmise there are others aboard this ship.”

Bones snorted at Spock’s rare humour. Kirk’s eyes narrowed. “You are beginning to try my patience Captain Carter. Where are they?”

“They are but two female passengers, they have no part in this business, I beg of you sir leave them be.”

“Their part in this is not for you to decide,” Kirk snarled and grabbed Carter by the lapels, digging the nose of his pistol under the man’s ribs. “You think we will not search every inch of this ship anyway? Where. Are. They?”

“One of the aft cabins.” The man gasped in relief as his captor released him.

Glancing around at his men, the Captain’s eyes came to rest on Bones who was stood with arms crossed, wearing his customary scowl. “Take Scotty and fetch them up.”

With a huff, Bones strode across the deck and jumped down the companionway steps two at a time, the wiry bosun following close behind. At the end of the berth deck was a narrow corridor with four doors. He banged his fist on each in turn before opening the door, and swearing loudly when they turned up empty, until only the last door remained. He pounded on it hard enough to rattle teeth and made to open it, but it was stuck fast.

“Open the door and you’ll not be harmed,” he bellowed loud enough to make even Mr Scott wince.

The only sound from within was a muffled sobbing. Bones slammed his hand on the doorframe. It was bad enough that Jim sent him to fetch the women, but to have to deal with female hysterics? An unwelcome memory of his life as a country doctor flashed into his head. “Goddammit! Open the bloody door!”

“Beggin’ yer pardon Bones, but yer as like to terrify ‘em, as get ‘em t’open tha door,” Scotty suggested with a wry smile.

“I have no patience for this,” he muttered in return before backing up and aiming a series of forceful kicks at the hinges of the cabin door. To his satisfaction the wood splintered and the door buckled inwards kept up only by a piece of furniture that was blocking it. Together with Scotty he shouldered the door in, shoving the offending trunk with it.

There was a second’s silence, then the sound of shattering glass and Scotty stumbled towards him clutching his bleeding head.

After the blast of the cannons, you had to quickly calm a terrified Mrs Stewart. As you explained hastily what had happened and tried to quiet the moans of terror from the older woman, you couldn’t help but think that surely this scene should be the other way around. Thankfully there were no further blasts and no terrifying sounds of wood splintering, or cries of injured men, only a vast deal of hooting and hollering and the amplified sound of someone shouting through a trumpet, but you couldn’t make out the words.

Eventually there was a scraping sound and the creak and groan of timbers and ropes, followed by a great thunder of footsteps and more shouting. A single gunshot sounded and your heart leapt into your throat hoping that none of the crew had been felled. Things went quiet after that, and you sat on the edge of Mrs Stewart’s bunk rubbing her back gently. Perhaps all would be well.

However, the sound of heavy footsteps sounded, drawing closer down the berth deck followed by a deafening pounding on one of the other cabin doors and a deep rough voice that you did not recognise, demanding entry. Your heart raced, as the man drew closer and your companion began to wail and sob.

Frantically looking around for some sort of weapon with which to defend yourself, you lamented the bad luck that your parasol had been abandoned on deck. Being able to wield its sturdy handle as a club would have made you feel much more courageous. But it was too late, as the pounding reached your door, and you hushed Mrs Stewart, grabbed the bottle containing your rosewater from the dresser and pressed yourself against the wall beside the door.

The angry voice demanded entry, but you did not comply and there was muttering and another voice then the awful sound of something battering against the door, until the hinges gave with an awful crack, and the intruders had barged the door in. Screwing your eyes closed, you lashed out with the bottle in your fist and smashed it over the head of the man nearest you, who stumbled into the other.

Gripping your rosewater soaked skirts in the other hand you moved to put yourself between Mrs Stewart and these barbarians, waving the broken stump of glass in front of you. You saw you had hit the smaller of the two men who was now leaning on the doorpost rubbing blood away from a gash on his forehead, and his large friend loomed, wide as the doorway, face twisted in a grimace of displeasure.

“Stay back! I will slash you, do not think I won’t!” You shouted, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. But the great dark haired brute merely sneered and glared out of his single eye before grabbing your wrist and pressing his thumb between the bones until you yelped in pain and dropped the makeshift weapon. Instinctively, you swung your free hand to slap him, but he caught that too, and backed you up his body pressing you against the far wall, arms pinned at your sides. No one had ever manhandled you like this before. Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

“Goddammit no you won’t, you little hellion,” he growled an inch away from your face. The brush of his hot breath made you shiver. “Scotty, bind her wrists.” He stepped back and pulled your hands out in front of you and the shorter man made swift work of tying them together with a narrow piece of rope. “Now her,” he nodded at poor Mrs Stewart who was shocked into silence and huddled on her berth.

“She dinnae look like she’ll give us bother Bones,” he protested in broad Scotch brogue, rubbing his gingery beard.

“No, she is frightened enough already, please do not.” It was a hopeless plea you thought. This man was a pirate, cold and unprincipled. He stared down at you intently with his one eye the colour of seaweed, his grip still firm on your bruised wrists, until you looked away at his scrutiny.

“Very well. Let’s get them up top.” The man named Scotty, helped a compliant Mrs Stewart to her feet and steered her through the door. Shocked at your captor’s acquiescence, he had to pull you into motion and you stumbled. He growled, “Do I need to hoist you over my shoulder like a sack of flour?”

Indignation foamed in your chest and unable to form words, you merely shook your head, and stuck out your chin stubbornly before climbing over the remains of the door and allowing the beastly man to lead you like an animal above deck. You heard him sigh and mutter something unintelligible as he tugged you along.

Up on the quarterdeck, you discovered that piracy was not the quick business you had assumed. Scotty steered Mrs Stewart over to the little stool you had been settled on only hours before and the awful Bones handed you over to the supervision of the Scotsman with a scowl, before going to confer with his Captain.

It relieved you that the pirate Captain spared you little more than a passing glance, while issuing orders to his men to search and secure all valuable cargo and, in short order, goods were brought up from the hold, inspected and transferred to the pirate ship. You stifled a cry when you saw that amongst the haul were the trunks of your trousseau. Yards of beautiful fabrics, delicate garments that you had spent hours stitching. Superficial it might be, but they had been your consolation in the midst of the uncertain feelings about your marriage.

Captain Carter looked chagrined, as well he might having failed to give you the protection he promised. Trying to distract yourself from your fear and discomfort at the heat of the afternoon sun beating down on you, you cast your eye around you taking a better look at your captors.

To a man they were ostentatiously dressed, clearly these were a successful pirate crew. The Captain himself in a long black velvet coat with gold buttons and embroidery, a rich yellow silk sash and a shirt with acres of lace at the collar and sleeves, cut a figure that you would have called dashing were he not a pirate and a scoundrel. Scotty beside you wore a deep red brocade waistcoat with trimmings as fine as any you had seen in New York, and a beautiful scarf tied around his head now marred with blood from the wound you had inflicted.

However, despite your disdain for the man, your eye was drawn to the tall, broad figure of Bones, now standing a little apart, feet planted and arms crossed over his chest. His long dark hair was neatly clubbed back and his beard trimmed close. He was a little less flamboyant than the others in a deep blue coat with embroidered hem and cuffs, and a fine lawn shirt with an impeccably tied stock at his throat. His sword belt was worked with gold inlays and if you were honest he could have passed as a gentleman, had it not been for the pair of pistols, the eye patch and the ever present glower that marked him as a dangerous man.

Scotty saw the direction of your stare and chuckled grimly. “Aye lass, yer dinnae want ta anger Bones any more than yer have. He’s quite a temper on him and nae love towards womenfolk in general.”

As if aware that he was the topic of conversation, his gaze turned to you across the deck and he frowned. You levelled your most ferocious glare back at him locking eyes until you realised you had become the object of the pirate Captain’s scrutiny too. Kirk glanced at Bones, then with an amused grin he gestured to Scotty for you to be brought forward.

He regarded you silently for a few seconds, looking you up and down with cool blue eyes in a manner that suggested he had appraised the worth of every item of your attire, and the likely shape of everything underneath, before smiling most charmingly and tipping his hat. “Captain James Kirk at your service madam.” You stayed pointedly silent, which only made him grin even more rakishly. “You must be Miss Y/L/N. Pray, why are you bound for Barbados?”

“I do not see what business it is of yours, sir,” you replied mockingly, all the while suppressing the lurching sensation in your stomach.

“No matter, Miss Y/L/N.” The smile vanished and he stared, a calculating look in his eye, before nodding to you and turning away to issue another order to his crew. “Ready a dinghy for Captain Carter here. We cannot leave without making an example of him for his attempts at deception.” Carter blanched, but to his credit stood proudly.

“He is to be set adrift, sir?” You gasped, incredulous, thinking of the poor man’s family in Boston. “That is barbaric!”

Kirk swung around to face you again, his expression hard. “Why, yes Miss Y/L/N. It is an unfortunate necessity in this business to ensure absolute compliance in future. Just think, I could have ordered the whole ship scuttled.”

As he moved to step past you, you grabbed at his sleeve. “But surely there is something else you could do? He surely cannot survive being set adrift so far from civilisation!”

He looked down at your bound wrists and then back up at you with a spark of interest. “Perhaps there is Miss Y/L/N,” he said thoughtfully. “I will make you a deal. In exchange for Captain Carter’s life, you will agree to be taken as our hostage on board the Enterprise. We will ransom you in Bridgetown back to your family.”

You felt suddenly lightheaded as all the blood rushed from your face. You distantly heard Carter cry a protestation at this most abominable offer, but it surprised you more to see Bones step up to Kirk and hiss at him, “Are you out of your goddamn mind Jim!”

“She is clearly well to do Bones, we should get a pretty sum in ransom.”

“I don’t like it. Hostage taking is a messy business as you well know. And she’s a damned woman!” He glared at his Captain much as he had glared at you earlier. Perhaps he was generally predisposed to be displeased.

“I can see that,” Kirk replied drily, eyes lingering over your décolletage. “My mind is made up. It is the lady’s choice. Well?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, it was no kind of choice at all when a man’s life was at stake. “I will do it.”

The pirate Captain laughed, “By God she has more courage than the rest of this lot put together!” He shot a scathing look at Carter. “Do not fret sir, upon my honour I will see that she is unharmed.”

He stepped up to you and reached out to take a lock of your hair that you had carefully curled over your shoulder that morning, smoothing it through his fingers. With a flash of intuition, you had the awful feeling that this pirate had just gotten exactly what he wanted. As he laid the lock down, his hand traced across your collarbone. “Miss Y/L/N, that is a lovely necklace you are wearing.” And before you had time to protest, he pulled your mother’s locket from your neck and tossed it to Bones. “Keep it safe for me. We will need it for ransom.”

“You are a thief and a scoundrel! My father and my fiancé will see you hang for this!” you spat in outrage. This man had no honour at all.

He tipped his hat again, with a smirk. “Oh, I doubt it. But they will pay a pretty penny to have you returned. Scotty, escort our guest aboard the Enterprise.”

As the Scotsman led you away your stubborn facade finally cracked and you felt tears pool in your eyes which you dashed away with your fists. The heat and exhaustion hit you like bricks, and suddenly it seemed much harder to breathe, but you steadfastly put one foot in front of the other across the gangplank, trying not to imagine what fate awaited amongst the din of victorious pirates on the other side.

Bones turned away from his Captain, anger barely suppressed below the surface, and saw you clutch awkwardly at your blue silk petticoats and stumble across the plank between ships. This whole escapade was sheer madness and unlikely to end well. Kirk clapped him on the shoulder. “I have a feeling about this one Bones, trust me.”

As he watched the crew of the Mary Charlotte be herded down into the hold to be locked up, and the Enterprise crew climb the rigging to cut lines and slash down sails, the scent of roses seemed to linger in the air. He shook his head in resignation. “I damn well hope you’re right Captain.” With a deep sigh, he strode across to the steps and descended to the main deck. He couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding he had, but perhaps it was simply the melancholy mood that had plagued him all day. Back on the Enterprise there would be rum, and maybe he could chase this black mood away.

He tugged at his stock to loosen it as he walked. By god it was hot in this get up, and he had been standing in the sun for what felt like hours. As he crossed the gangplank it occurred to him that he should offer you some salve for your skin. A coddled miss like you was probably not used to the exposure and would suffer for it tomorrow.

But his anticipated oblivion, would have to wait. As he jumped down onto the deck of the Enterprise, it was clear that something had caused a commotion. A raucous cluster of crew had formed around the bottom of the main mast where he could see a flash of pale blue, and they were cheering and yelling. With a sinking feeling, Bones knew before he elbowed his way through what the cause would be, and sure enough, there at the centre of the knot you were pressed against the mast with Scotty in front of you brandishing his sword at the other men and issuing an impressive string of Celtic curses.

“Goddammit, bringing a woman on board as part of the prize, what were you thinking Jim?” he growled to himself. He yanked a pistol out of his belt and fired it in the air. “Avast! You best be going about your business smartly lads,” he roared. “This woman is under the Captain’s protection. He won’t be too pleased to see her manhandled.” He stared down the men in the front, and with some grumbling at the end of their sport, they dispersed.

He turned to see what damage had been done, and you were leaning heavily against the mast, eyes wide in fright and fighting for breath, hands pressed against your chest. Your face was ashen, and a fine sheen of sweat beaded your brow. You slid down, knees buckling, and Bones lunged toward you cursing up a storm.

As he seized you under the arms you twisted and fought, gasping “no, please no...” but he paid you no heed and grasping the front of your gown ripped it open where it was pinned to the stomacher to expose your stays.

He was caught unaware as you lashed out with your feet landing a vicious kick to his shin and stamping on his foot. “Dammit all to hell you little spitfire!” he bellowed, his face twisting in pain Reaching into his boot he pulled out a short blade, and at the sight of it the fight seemed to go out of you. You were struggling to breathe in shallow rasps, and he wrestled your gown down your arms as far as the bindings would allow. As he flipped you over so you lay on your front across his bent knee, he felt you go limp as you passed out.

Swiftly running the blade of his knife up the laces of your stays, Bones tore them away from you and turned you over again in his arms, relieved to see you take some unhindered breaths though you remained unconscious. Carefully, he cut the binding on your wrists. Then he scooped you up and, glowering at Scotty who stared dumbly at the scene before him, carried you across the deck to the hatch down to the berth deck and the sickbay below.

Pain throbbed in his leg with every step, and he cursed the fates, the universe and Jim bloody Kirk for landing him in the middle of an entire ocean, with a woman who was nothing but pure unadulterated trouble.

TO BE CONTINUED...

A/N: Its quite a lot of set up in this first part, there will be more Bones and reader from now on!

Tags: tagging a couple of people who have expressed interest in this, happy to add or remove. I have a tag list for Falling, but not sure if people on that want to be tagged in all fics, so if you do, just let me know.

@musikat18 @taylorjacksonandtheolympians @space-helen

#historicalauchallenge #bones x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #star trek fanfiction #pirate!au #pirate!bones #golden age of piracy

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thesoftdumbass · 7 years

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Winged Men and Demigods

Jim Kirk x reader

1 Year Anniversary Challenge: Ancient Greece Myth

Summary: You are a demigod, the daughter of Selene, goddess of the moon. You are sent on a quest to capture storm-spirits, monsters, and receive some help along the way in the form of a winged man with blond hair and striking blue eyes.

Word Count: 6.6 K

Warnings: slight anxiety, weapons, fighting, storms, slight feelings of inadequacy, inferences of sexy times. Not beta’d. Barely edited. Lord help us.

Characters: Pythia, Nyota Uhura, Pavel Chekov, Hikaru Sulu, Spock, Christopher Pike, Montgomery “Scotty” Scott, Leonard McCoy, Jim Kirk

Tags: @yourtropegirl @starshiphufflebadger @annathewitch

Walking around the garden of your small home in Delphi, Greece, watering the anemone and pulling weeds, you sense a presence behind you. Bending over casually as if smelling one of your flowers, you reach into the slit in your dress and unsheathe the celestial bronze dagger from your thigh holder. With precise movements, you spin in your place and hold the knife to the throat of the person invading your home.

“Am I supposed to feel threatened, demigod?” The Oracle of Delphi stands in front of you in her robes of bronze and scarlet, her face blank. You immediately remove the weapon, re-sheathe it and step back, bowing and then standing, your back straight with respect.

“I apologize, Pythia. I did not know that it was you.”

“Apparently,” she says, looking you over skeptically. “I am surprised you did not use your mother’s weapon.”

You smile sheepishly, twirling the ring on your finger. “You could have been anybody. I don’t want a stranger knowing my secret. Only you and the other demigods at the Temple know that I am half human. Unleashing the weapon could expose me”

“That is wise, young demigod,” she nods in approval.

“I do have a name, Pythia. Besides, I am no younger than you,” you point out.

“I am much older than I look, YN,” she puts an accent on your name and gives a small smirk. “You must be wondering why I have come to you.”

“It has crossed my mind, yes. Is something wrong?”

The Oracle sits down on a nearby bench and gestures for you to join her. You do, and after a few minutes of silence, she starts speaking. “Do you know of the Hurricane Winds?” Remembering the scrolls that you read from during your training when you were young, you nod your head. “So you must remember that they are kept on an island far away from civilization, under the rule of Aeolus.”

“Of course, they are only released when the gods need them,” you recall.

“Two of the Anemoi Thuellai have escaped the island, as I saw last night. Nobody knows how, but they need to be taken back before they cause irreparable damage to the mortal world. You and two other demigods will seek out and capture the storm spirits to be taken back to Aeolus. Your partners for the journey will join you at the Temple of Apollo in two days. Make sure you are ready to leave then.”

And so you were. Two days later, you left your home in the morning and made the walk to the Temple, carrying a pack filled with anything you might need on your journey; clothes, weapons, money, food, and maps of Greece.

You walk into the Temple around noon, the sun brightly shining down on you. Making your way to where the Pythia is, you see her standing with two other people, and you observe them as you walk. The woman is beautiful, dark skin and long silky hair, her almond shaped eyes set off by perfect cheekbones. The man that is with them, though he is clearly younger than you, is handsome as well. Blond hair sits in curls on top of his head, and his bright eyes widen as he catches sight of you nearing the group, a smile gracing his face.

“You must be YN!” he exclaims as you reach them.

“I am. And you are…” you say with an unsure smile.

“Chekov, Pavel Andreievich,” he steps forward and offers his hand, which you shake.

“I am Nyota Uhura,” the woman introduces with a smile and nod of her head.

“It is nice to meet you both.”

The Pythia let you get introductions out but decided to get to business. “The three of you can get to know each other better while on the journey. Right now there are things to discuss.”

Nyota, Pavel, and yourself nod respectfully and let her speak.

“I received a vision from Apollo last night. He told me that you need to consult the Anemoi. They can help you find the venti and capture them, you only have to be respectful of them. There is a boat at the docks waiting to take you to Thrace.”

“Will the wind gods know where the venti are, or do we have to search all of Greece?” Pavel asks, concerned.

“They will be able to tell you where to go,” she answers assuringly.

After this the Pythia walks you out of the Temple, leading you down the mountain and to the dock. The white sails of the ship flap in the breeze, the promise of smooth sailing ahead. Right before you walk up the ramp to board, the Oracle stops you.

“I wish you luck on your quest, may the gods be with you and protect you.”

“Thank you, Pythia. We will do what we have been chosen for,” you say.

You hear Pavel and Nyota also say farewells but you don’t want to eavesdrop, so you walk onto the ship and look around. You notice the captain walk across the deck, and your companions join you as he reaches where you are standing.

“My name is Captain Hikaru Sulu, welcome aboard. It’s an honor to have half-bloods with us,” he says warmly, his face adorned with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Captain,” Uhura says respectfully.

“We are ready to set sail, it should just be a few minutes now.”

“Can we pray before we go? I would like to ask for safe passage from my father,” Pavel asks modestly.

“Of course.”

The four of you gather into a circle on the deck of the ship, your hands joined and heads bowed, and Chekov starts to speak in his thick accent.

“Poseidon, we ask for safe travel over the sea, and for luck with our quest. Please protect my new friends and I as we journey to Thrace, and then wherever else the gods send us.”

With a few words of thanks and a promise to send burnt offerings at the next opportunity, you set off. Captain Sulu shows you to your quarters, three separate bedrooms on the same deck, and you settle in for the long journey, putting away the few things you brought with you and pacing around the room.

You have no idea what you’re up against, and even though you are a trained demigod with strength surpassing that of the average mortal, you are scared of what awaits you.

You head to dinner after failing to rest, your mind far too worked up for that, and are given a plate. You sit down at a nearby table and find yourself accompanied by Nyota and Pavel. You sit with them while they make small talk, content to just listen, but Pavel brings you into the conversation.

“I think we should all get to know each other better. YN, do you want to start? You haven’t talked much.”

“I guess so,” you clear your throat, “I wasn’t raised by my parents. I grew up at the Temple of Apollo, training for the day when I could help people, but this is my first quest. I moved into town when I came of age and have stayed there since.” You shrug, not knowing what else they would want to know about you.”

“What about your godly parent? Do you know who they are?” Nyota asks kindly.

“My mother is Selene,” you tell them. You understand why she asks that second question. Many demigods go their whole lives without being claimed by their parent, though luckily you had been claimed at a rather young age.

“Goddess of the moon! That is very exciting. Poseidon is my father, which you may have heard earlier.” Chekov’s eyes sparkle with silent pride and you nod, chuckling.

“What about you, Nyota? Do you know your parent?” you ask, becoming more invested in the conversation.

“Hermes,” she says with a humble voice. “My father is actually the reason that I study dialect, it comes to me naturally because he is the god of language.”

“That is fantastic! The only thing I can do is swim well,” Pav admits.

They both turn to you, asking silently for your input. “I didn’t get any special abilities, I can’t lead the moon’s chariot or anything like that. I do have a weapon that my mother gave me, I only like to use it when necessary, but it is nice to have.”

You continue speaking to your new friends all throughout dinner, learning more about each other and becoming closer. That night you go to bed with positive thoughts running through your head, your anxiety about the quest held at bay as you fall asleep.

The rest of the trip to Thrace passes quickly. You spend your time learning how to fight in harmony with Nyota and Pavel, listening to the Captain tell stories about his young daughter Demora, and watching the sea pass by from the bow of the boat. Sooner than you realize, you are leaving the ship.

“Be safe, my friends. If you need anything, my crew and I will be in Thrace for another two days, we could take you where you need to go,” Captain Sulu tells the three of you as you step off the ship, clasping a hand on each of your shoulders in a sign of friendship.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Hikaru,” Uhura says sincerely, and you leave, making your way to the cavern of the Anemoi.

When you arrive at the base of Mount Haemus, you look up at it in wonder. The mountain is covered with lush green plant life and clouds encircle the snowy caps, giving the mountain a majestic beauty. You love the view, there’s just one problem.

“We don’t have to go to the top of the mountain, do we?” you question.

“If so, then I am wearing the wrong sandals to hike in,” Pavel chimes in.

“Wait, look!” Nyota points, frowning in consideration at what is happening to the mountain. Slowly lines form and shift in the stone, revealing a grand doorway of gold and midnight blue just a few feet in front of you.

You brave a step toward the door that seems to be opening by itself, but take a step back when you find that someone has appeared in the doorway. The man before you stands tall with a stiff spine and his hands behind his back, his black hair laying over his forehead uniformly.

“Welcome to Mount Haemus, half-bloods. We were sent word of your journey to reach us. Please, come in.” You give a nervous glance to your friends but follow the man as he steps back through the opening. He stands back as the three of you enter and the gilded door closes behind you. “My name is Spock. If you will come with me, please.” Spock turns around and walks down the corridor that you are currently in, causing you to follow him. You only notice after a step or two that there is a pair of wings situated on his back. The torches illuminating the corridor cast off of the black feathers, silhouetting his bird-like appendages every few steps.

To prevent yourself from staring, you turn your gaze to the floor and the shadows playing against the marble tile as you walk. Finally entering a brightly lit cavernous space and looking around, you stand in awe at the marvelous paintings and sculptures, only to notice that Spock had continued walking without you.

You catch up with the group just as they reach the back of the room where there is a platform set above the ground, and on it stands four beautiful thrones, each adorned with different fabrics and precious metals. Only the third seat is taken, and the occupant stands as you near the platform. His hair is wavy and graying. His face is impassive and his eyes watch as you approach, soft gray wings extended out to his sides and radiating authority, even as he stands with a cane.

“Sir, these are the demigods whose journey we were told of,” Spock bows to the man in front of you out of respect and you follow suit.

“Please, stand up. There’s no need to bow.” You follow his request and stand straight. “My name is Eurus, but I go by Christopher Pike around here. Call me whatever you wish, my friends. What can I call you?”

Ny is first to speak up, “My name is Nyota Uhura, daughter of Hermes. It is an honor to be here, sir.” You and Pavel follow her lead and soon introductions are made, the five of you sitting down to dinner at a lengthy table, you and your friends have not eaten since breakfast on the boat. You are joined by two other men, one of them with floppy brown hair and kind hazel eyes disguised by what seems to be a permanent scowl, the other with thinning red hair and a friendly smile. They were introduced as Leonard McCoy and Montgomery Scott, respectively.

You’re waiting for the meal to start, sitting across from Leonard and listening to him talk about the work that Hippocrates is doing in the field of modern medicine, his brown wings rippling as he speaks happily. Another person enters the dining hall, his steps echoing loudly as he rushes to a seat, finding one to your right. He lets out a profanity as he sits on his wings, one only you can hear.

You chance a look as he adjusts in his seat and your breath catches, this is possibly the most beautiful man you have ever seen. His tan skin and golden hair remind you of Apollo, but the striking blue eyes that cast over you hold depths greater even than the sea. You shake yourself out of your daze though when Chris starts speaking.

“Ahh, Jim. I was wondering if you were going to join us for supper, we’ve been waiting for you. YN, Pavel, Nyota, this is James Kirk. He’s the last of my attendants, now you’ve met everybody but my brothers.”

“Sorry I’m late, Pike, I lost track of time while reading through my scrolls. It’s a pleasure to meet everybody.”

“It’s fine, Jim. Let us eat!”

With that, dishes start moving to the table, appearing as if from thin air. The Anemoi act as though it is an everyday occurrence and maybe it is, but you are not used to it and it seems that you’re not the only one.

“How do you get the food to float through the air like that?!” Pavel’s face shows awe and wonder.

“The dishes aren’t floating, the Aurai move them. They’re breeze nymphs, most people can’t see them unless one reveals herself to you. They work here with us,” Leonard tells Pavel, who smiles like he’s just learned a secret.

Food is passed around and wine flows until your stomachs are full and your thirsts are quenched, and then Chris decides to get to business.

“So what is the reason that you’ve graced us with your presence?” he asks cordially.

“It is the Anemoi Thuellai, sir. Two of them have escaped Aeolus’ Isle, and the three of us have been sent on a quest to capture them so they can be taken back. Apollo sent us in your direction, knowing that you would be able to help us locate the storm winds,” you say in a polite voice.

Pike listens as you speak, nodding decisively when you’re finished. “I’ll send some Harpies to scout, they will be back in the morning with the information you need. You are all welcome to stay the night, of course. I will make sure your rooms are ready soon, and the four of you can head out first thing in the morning.”

“Four of us?”

“But there are only three on the quest, sir.”

Pav and Nyota speak at the same time, and Chris just smiles at the confusion.

“I’m sending one of my attendants with you. While I am sure you are very capable demigods, the venti are extremely powerful beings and you may need some help. And I would go myself, but,” he gestures to his cane and his bad leg, “I can’t go on adventures anymore.”

“So which of us is joining the quest?” Montgomery, or Scotty as you had been informed to call him, asks the group.

“I can go,” Jim volunteers without hesitation. He hasn’t left the mountain in a long time and wants to stretch his wings, but that isn’t the only reason that he wants to join. From the moment that Jim Kirk entered the dining room, he has been mesmerized by the ethereal beauty currently sitting beside him, has listened to her speak throughout the meal, and now that he has an opportunity to spend more time with her, he won’t let it pass.

“Are you sure about that, son? It will not be easy,” Pike double checks.

“I’m happy to help, Chris.” Jim gives a bright smile and you’re surprised you don’t melt at the sight.

“Alright then,” Chris claps his hands and stands up, drawing everyone’s attention. “Len, Spock, the two of you gather a party of Harpies and send them to search for the two ventus and get back to me by the morning. We need to know where they are and what they’ve been up to. Scotty, can you help me make our guests’ rooms up?” When he receives affirmations, Pike sends everyone to do their tasks.

“Do I need to do anything, sir?” Jim asks, making to stand from his chair.

“You have a lot to do in the next few days, you should rest for now.” Pike turns and addresses your friends, “I’ll tell you when your sleeping arrangements are ready,” and with that, he walks out of the room.

It’s relatively quiet as you try to come up with something to say. You are already close with Ny and Pav, but you are hesitant to say anything, lest you embarrass yourself in front of Jim. You’re saved from having to fill the silence, though, as Leonard comes to rejoin the group.

“Harpies are on their way out, we should know something by dawn,” he says, sitting back down and reaching for a drink.

“That’s good, the venti have already been gone for so long. The sooner we can get them back to the island, the better,” Ny states.

The conversation picks up after that, just small talk to pass the time, and pretty soon Eurus comes back into the room and informs you that your beds are ready, sending you off so you can rest.

The next morning you peek your eyes open slowly, letting yourself wake fully before getting up and getting dressed. Just as you are securing your weapons in place, you hear a knock on the door to your bedchamber. You are greeted by the sight of Jim standing on the other side of the door, bright eyes shining as he notices you in front of him.

“Good morning,” you greet softly.

“Good morning YN, Chris asked me to bring you to the dining room for breakfast,” Jim says, sending a smile your way.

You nod with a smile, looping your arm through Jim’s, which he offered you. When you reach your destination Jim pulls out your chair for you, making your heart skip a beat at the gesture. You murmur your thanks and earn a nod in return as Jim sits down beside you. Breakfast passes by quietly, bread and honey filling you and giving you the energy you need for the day. Soon after, Pike shares with you what he has learned.

“The Harpies that were sent to scout returned this morning with some news. The two Anemoi Thuellai that have escaped are nearby Chios, an island in the Aegean sea and off the coast of Asia Minor. We do not know why this place has drawn them, but we must stop the storm-winds. They have already caused severe disturbances in the atmosphere and need to be stopped.”

“And how do we stop them? I know we take them back to Aeolus, but how can we capture them?” Pavel asks.

“I will provide you with a bag made of ox-hide to carry the venti in. You must keep both of them busy until they are within close range of each other and then open the bag, they will be drawn in. As soon as they are inside, secure the bag and they will not be able to escape.” Chris allows you to absorb that information for a few moments before speaking again. “Now, do you have transportation to Chios island or shall I arrange for some?”

“We have a friend at the port of Thrace, he said that he would help us, he will still be at the dock,” you tell them of Hikaru and how helpful he has been.

“Wonderful. While I’m getting everything ready to go, you can spar to stay ready for the venti.”

You are led into a large training room in the cavern, covered in mats, a wall to one side loaded down with weapons. You survey the rack of swords, longing to hold the weight of your own again. You feel somebody step up beside you as your finger brushes along the edge of a shined blade, the handle glowing gold.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you hear Kirk speak reverently by your ear, one of his large hands reaching out to grasp the handle and lifting the sword from its perch.

“It is… it makes me miss using my own.”

“So why don’t you?”

You touch the adamantine ring on your right hand, wishing to unleash the weapon inside. As long as it doesn’t hurt anybody, you think, why not? “I suppose I will.”

You take a few steps and end up in the middle of the floor, looking around to make sure that no one is nearby before closing your eyes and taking a steadying breath. Channeling your energy in a short burst as you exhale, you feel the familiar weight of your blade in your grip and move your hand in a small wave, allowing the sword to swing around in a showy move. You hold it up in front of your face, the crescent-shape of the crossguard glittering in the lights of the room.

Applause breaks out around you, giving you a burst of confidence, and you rotate your sword a few times in the air around you. “Zat is incredible,” you hear Pavel’s unmistakable accent and smile.

“YN, how did you do that,” Nyota asks, impressed.

You shrug, giving a reserved smile. “I told you that I got this from my mother, well… I harness a little bit of energy from the moon and turn the ring into what it was truly made for, protection… I don’t really know how to explain it,” you say, shrugging your shoulders once more.

You look around at your friends grinning back at you, but a breath catches in your throat at the look of absolute awe on Jim’s face. He catches you looking at him though, causing your face to heat up and you to avert your eyes. Clearing his throat he steps forward, reaching a hand out to you.

“May I?”

“Of course,” you answer, thinking that he is going to compare both of your weapons, but before you can pass it over, your instincts kick in and you block the hit that he sends toward you. You bring your arm up to counter-attack, which Jim sees coming and defends. It goes like this for a few minutes before you’re bent over, hands on knees and breathing heavily. Calling it a truce, you reach out a hand to Jim, which he accepts.

Allowing your heart rate to slow back to normal, you look around you. During your sparring match, everybody had dispersed into their own fights and you watch as Nyota gains the upper hand on Spock, but before she can strike, Spock leaps to avoid her weapon, spinning mid-air with his wings folded around him in a protective cocoon before coming down several steps from her. You can’t help it, you clap your hands in admiration for the swift movements and Spock bows stiffly to show his appreciation.

You go over basic fighting maneuvers until Scotty and Chris come into the training room, the former carrying a large satchel in his hands. Chris waves his hands for everyone to gather in the middle of the room and you do, Scotty’s wings fluttering as he merrily explains how to use the special ox-skin to capture the venti.

Once the four of you have memorized the new information, you are sent to gather your belongings from your rooms and prepare to leave the cavern and Mount Haemus behind. Gathering your pack and ensuring that your sword is safely back on your finger, you make your way to the throne room to say goodbye to your host and depart.

Jim leads your group through the corridors, walking to town and back to the docks where you meet Hikaru and his crew once again. “My friends,” he greets with a smile and open arms before his eyes land on Jim standing at the back of the group. If he finds Kirk’s wings to be out of the ordinary he doesn’t let on, just introducing himself in a friendly manner.

Pavel tells Captain Sulu about the information you have received and he plots a course for Chios, setting sail not long after. This trip on the boat passes much like the first, nothing remarkable happening for the entire journey. That is until you are approaching your destination. The closer you get to the island of Chios, the rougher the seas are, sending the ship lurching in the rising waves.

High winds cause the sails to thrash uncontrollably and dark clouds become even more ominous. Sulu steers the ship into an alcove of the island to avoid rocky shores, narrowly being missed by a flash of lightning.

“Where is that storm coming from? The weather was clear only this morning,” Hikaru is confused.

“That would be the venti,” Kirk says darkly, the feathers on his wings bristling.

“I’ve read about the Anemoi Thuellai, but there is not much information about them, only that they wreak havoc over the seas,” Nyota offers.

“I’m guessing that we are about to learn a lot more about them,” Pavel swallows as the ship pitches, and you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

“So, do we have a plan?” you ask, looking around at your group hopefully.

“Eurus told us to distract the storm-winds and get them close. I think that one of us should control the container while two others lead them to the south side of the island, away from the village. We can meet at the center of the island, opening the bag and drawing them inside. Scotty said that the ties you close it with are magic and will hold for as long as they need to, allowing us to take them to Thrace.”

“Good luck, demigods. I will be here when you get back,” Captain Sulu assures you.

Nyota’s plan is simple, but it’s a good one. Walking off the bridge and out the door onto the deck of the ship along with your friends, you are stopped by a hesitant touch to your arm. Looking back, Jim is behind you, facing you with a look that you can’t decipher. He quickly moves his hand away. A look of determination fills his face then, though his eyes display a softness.

“Be careful, YN,” he says, softer than you had heard him speak before.

“You too, Jim,” you smile, reaching for his hand and giving his fingers a comforting squeeze. Amber wings unfurl and stretch before your eyes, beating against the tempest and taking Jim into the air. You watch as he moves toward the small town on the edge of the island, ensuring that the citizens of Chios are safe and have taken shelter.

You climb over the rail on the port side of the vessel and descend the ladder into the shallow water beneath you, wind pushing waves up over your knees and making it difficult to get to your destination quickly, but you manage. You reach the shore where Ny and Chekov are waiting for you and tie your hair back, preventing the wind from whipping it around.

Nyota double checks that the ox-hide is secured to the belt around her waist and looks at you steadily, her brown eyes unwavering. “You two know what you have to do?” You and Pavel give affirmations and Uhura nods. “Bring the venti my way. Stay safe, and we’ll get these monsters back to where they belong.”

You split ways with Ny, moving alongside Pav to where the typhoon appears to be strongest. You fidget as you walk, twisting your mother’s ring around your finger. Pavel notices and asks if you are alright.

“I’m okay, Pav, thanks. I’m just anxious. I’ve never fought a storm before, and I don’t even know how effective I will be in a brawl,” you lift your arms in exasperation.

“I have no idea what I’m doing either. None of us have had to do this before, not even Jim. The best we can do is to stay level headed and put our minds to work. We will succeed.” Chekov’s assurances help clear your head, giving you confidence for the first time since you left Delphi and you tell him how much it means to you.

As you approach the Anemoi Thuellai, you hear a flapping noise even above the wind and Jim touches down beside you, hair sticking to his face from the rain that you are currently being subjected to.

“Everybody in the village is safe, I told them to stay indoors,” he says before you can ask.

“That’s good, we don’t want anybody hurt that doesn’t have to be,” Pav speaks up.

“These guys are bad news, I got a good look as I was flying overhead,” Jim warns as he removes his sword from its scabbard.

“Let’s do this, then,” you summon a bit of energy and your sword is once again held firmly in your grip. Pavel raises his spear high, letting out a loud yell and gaining the nearest storm’s attention.

That may have been a mistake.

The ventus turns toward your trio and you can barely see it from behind the wind and rain. Their entire form is made up of the storm; dark clouds swirling in a vaguely humanoid shape. Bright balls of light distinguish the beast from the storm it is creating, lightning extending out every few seconds. You look up in horror, guessing your opponent’s height to be around ten feet… far above your height.

The daimone lets out a powerful roar that sounds distinctly like thunder, causing its friend to face you also. Immediately you raise the sword in your hand, swinging at the monster nearest you. You puncture its leg and a bright light erupts from the wound, diminishing the storm clouds, but it only serves to anger it more. Lightning crackles around you and it’s as if you can taste the electricity in the air. You inflict several more wounds, dark gray slowly being replaced by a soft glow, but it’s still not enough.

You turn away quickly, preparing to run, but you’re surrounded before you can move a step. You are shielded from the wind and rain and you open your eyes only to be met by the sight of Jim. His wings wrapped around the both of you protectively and you have to stop yourself from thinking about how /soft/ they are.

You’d lost track of your friends as you fought, but Jim had been circling in the air, hitting the ventus’ defense and came to help when your adversary got too close. You still heard Pavel fighting the other monster a few hundred feet away. You look back at Jim, his face holding concern for you and you answer his unasked question.

“I’m alright.”

“Okay YN, now we need to run, we have to get over to Nyota. She’s waiting with the satchel, and I think the venti are mad enough now to chase after us. When I let you go I need you to run to the rendezvous point. I will be behind you and Chekov the whole time if you need my help.”

“Thank you,” you say breathily and lean forward to place a chaste kiss on Jim’s lips, not even noticing as his jaw goes slack in shock and happiness.

He unfurls his wings from around you after you return your sword to its original form, and you do as you were told, making a break for it. “Pav!” you yell, indicating for the younger man to follow after you. It takes a few moments but you feel his steps sync up with yours and hear him panting in exertion. You look behind you to confirm that the venti are following you and they are, their energies sparking off one another.

Facing forward again, you empty your mind of thoughts and worries and just let yourself breathe, losing yourself in the action of placing one foot in front of the other and find yourself looking at Nyota in the distance.

The world around you becomes a blur as you close in on Ny and the venti advance on the three of you. The next thing you know you’re looking up at the suddenly clear sky from between Jim’s arms, the ox-skin glowing as the storm-winds try to escape the magic containing them.

“We did it,” Pavel mutters to himself almost disbelieving, and then shouting. “We did it!”

You giggle at his excitement and allow yourself to catch your breath, tucking your head into Jim’s shoulder and reveling in the victory.

“We thank you for the help you have provided us on this quest, we will be forever grateful for your hospitality, sir,” Uhura addresses Eurus as the four of you stand in front of the platform in the throne room of Mount Haemus.

“It was my pleasure, Nyota. Thank you for bringing the venti back, now Spock has been able to return them to their isle. You are all welcome to stay as long as you wish, we need some excitement around here.” Pike addresses all three of you, but his gray eyes sparkle as they linger on you and Jim standing so close to each other. Your cheeks warm and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, averting your eyes.

You and Jim had become extremely close on the trip back to Thrace, staying up late talking, sharing your love for the stars, and getting to know each other better, so much that you began to let yourself imagine spending more time with him.

“We appreciate it, Chris. If it is acceptable, we would like to stay for a few days before making our way back to Delphi. We have been traveling for so long, and Captain Sulu and his crew need time to rest before setting sail again.”

“Any time. Your rooms are still ready from when you were last here. I will see you all at dinner,” Pike dismisses you all. You grab your bag and head for your quarters, but a voice stops you before you are halfway there.

“YN, can we talk for a few minutes?”

Jim’s voice is timid and you stop walking, curious. “Of course.”

He leads you to a library, large shelves displaying different texts and tables covered in scrolls. You take a seat at one of these tables and wait for him to speak. You can see him thinking through how to phrase his words, opening his mouth and closing it a couple times. After a few minutes, you decide to try and get him to spit it out.

“Jim,” you say softly, approaching his pacing form, and his wings flutter as he turns to face you and you smile. “Are you okay?”

This seems to do the trick, as he finally speaks what is on his mind.

“Would it be ludicrous if I asked you to stay with me? Here at the cavern, I mean. I know you have a home in Delphi and I wouldn’t want to tear you away from that, but,” he can’t seem to find the words for a moment, “I think I love you. It may seem laughable, but I have been enamored since I laid eyes on you, and fallen more and more each time we talk. I don’t want you to feel pressured into staying here, but if you want… you have a place at Mount Haemus.”

As Jim finishes his monologue, you turn your gaze to him. You had been trying to process his words, and looking into his sincere eyes, you believe him. Jim isn’t someone who would lie about something so serious, but you’re still shocked. You had never thought of yourself as anything special, your mother’s blood and protection the only thing that set you apart, but the way Jim is looking at you tells you differently. Thinking back on it, he had only ever looked at you in adoration and respect.

As you are evaluating your own feelings, Jim is silently freaking out. Did he read you wrong, and you weren’t really interested in him? Was that too much to dump on you all at once? The mute environment is too much and after a few minutes, Jim really has to say something.

“YN?” You look up into his vulnerable face, watching as he tries to deduce your thoughts. After a moment, though, he gives up. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, Jim?”

“I… shouldn’t have rushed all of that out. I can give you time to think-”

“I love you too,” you interrupt him before he can take his invitation back, “what more is there to think about? I would love to stay here with you, if you’re still offering.”

“I am still offering,” he speaks hurriedly, reaching his arms around you in an embrace. After a minute he pulls away, brow furrowed. “What about your life in Delphi though, your friends and family?”

“I don’t have any family back there. And my friends, they are here with me. If I stay, they will surely come visit. And if I haven’t imagined it, Spock and Nyota seem to be getting familiar. I doubt it will be long before something happens between those two,” you chuckle.

“Are you sure you want to be with me,” he asks, his eyes gleaming with hope.

“I am sure. I love you, Jim,” you murmur.

The moment between the two of you changes and you feel yourself leaning towards him, your lips touching briefly. You open your eyes when you feel Jim pull back, but soon enough his lips are back on yours and your senses are engulfed by all of him.

“Let’s go tell everyone the good news, shall we,” he says, his voice husky with desire, “or better yet, maybe I can show you to your room first…”

You shudder at the unspoken proposition and lean into him further, placing a kiss to his jaw “I really like that second option…” and giggle as you take the lead down the hallway to your bed, ready for a long life ahead of you spent with Jim.

Post-A/N: So what did you guys think? I hope you enjoyed reading this! It took me so long to write, and I know it’s pretty long, but I am so glad you stuck with me ‘til the end. I know that it’s not perfect, I probably got a lot of details wrong and also left some characters in the background, but I tried. Really hard. I need sleep...

I wrote this in the present tense, as you can see. If you have a preference about which tense I use (past/present/both) then I can try to do that next time., this one just turned out this way. I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s Day!

#yourtropegirlchallenge #historicalauchallenge #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk imagine #jim kirk x you #star trek #star trek aos #star trek imagine #star trek aos imagine #chris pine #chris pine x reader #chris pine x you #chris pine imagine #jim kirk #ancient greece #ancient greece au #wing!fic

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thefanficfaerie · 7 years

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Historical AU Challenge

Here is the masterlist for the Historical AU challenge. Thank you to everyone who participated!! You all did a wonderful job!!! I am still working thru the rest that were posted to late yesterday. So I will get those reblogged as soon as possible.

1. Renaissance Vulnerable Masterpiece by @officialheroesofolympus Jim Kirk

2. Ancient Rome Do Not Win On Luck by @daily-cup-of-writing Steve Rogers With You by @omg-imagine Jim Kirk

3. Ancient Greece Naxos by @shitty-imagines-95 Tony Stark Winged Men and Demigods by @taylorjacksonandtheolympians Jim Kirk

4. 1600s: Witches, Colonists coming to the New World A Family by @dontyouwishyouhadlove Stucky Crucify Me by @travelwithwords Steve Rogers

5. The Golden Age of Piracy Of Wings and Sirens by @bookcaseninja Jim Kirk An Entire Ocean by @annathewitch Leonard McCoy

6. 1920s- Mafia (Robin Hood-esque) Flappers, speakeasy Clover Cafe by @captainsbabysitter-blog McKirk Mouthpiece or Otherwise by @rauliskafan Rafael Barba

7. Victorian Era Will Love Win Out by @imoutofmyvulcanmind Leonard McCoy

8. Vikings A Long Road to Happiness by @lt-sammi-matthews Steve Rogers

9. Revolutionary America What Are We Fighting For? by @boldlywritingtrek Jim Kirk

10. Regency A Painter’s Embrace/Part 2 by @tilltheendwilliwrite Steve Rogers I Have Fallen Against My Will by @writefasttalkevenfaster Aaron Hotchner

11. Old West Sheriff by @kaunis-sielu Steve Rogers

12. 1950s- Greasers/Bikers Midnight Ride by @captain-rogers-beard Steve Rogers

13 Elizabethan Era Hearts and Wars Long Won by @locke-writes Stucky

14. 1980s Working as a Waitress by @4theluvofall Steve Rogers

15. Middle Ages Lost and Found by @auduna-druitt McKirk

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themaliciousravioli · 7 years

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Of Wings and Sirens

A/N: Okay, this is really shitty but I didn’t have time to edit it. This is my entry for @yourtropegirl‘s Historical AU Challenge.

Summary: The RMS Enterprise get an... unusual passenger.

Pairing: Pirate!Jim x Siren!Reader

Words: 855

The creaking wood was a constant companion in the brig of the mighty ship.

You sat on the floor of the jail cell, carving little drawings into the floor with a small dagger you made sure to hide whenever the guard decided to walk past. It had been two days since the incident and you missed the feel of water on your skin, the sound of waves crashing all around you. You were starting to wonder if the captain had forgotten about you.

Three more days passed. The lack of stimulation was starting to make you antsy. You paced back and forth, not even stopping when the guard came in with a meager meal. It wasn’t until that night - or afternoon, you weren’t entirely sure anymore - when a different officer came into the brig. You froze in the midst of your pacing, trying to hear what words the officer was exchanging with the guard, but they were too quiet, even for your hearing.

A few minutes later, she heard two pairs of footsteps walking toward your cell. You all but dived onto the cot, sprawling out on your back in an attempt to make it look like you hadn’t been eavesdropping. Or trying to, anyway.

The footsteps stopped just outside your cell door. There was a clanging as whoever was out there unlocked the door. Your wings twitched against your back as you forced yourself not to sit up as the heavy wooden door swung open. The first mate - his name was Spock, wasn’t it? - stepped inside, looking much cleaner than the last time she saw him. His ebony wings were folded neatly against his back, almost blocking the guard in the doorway from your sight. Almost

“Hello, Commander!” You greeted him as joyfully as you could. “I trust your day has been well so far?”

The first mate ignored your words and took a step toward the cot. “The captain wants to see you,” was all he said. It was then that you noticed the handcuffs dangling from his fingers. You threw away the first thought that came to mind and sat up instead.

“Oh, alright,” You said.

You took your time standing up and stretching before you put your hands behind your back and allowed yourself to be shackled. As Commander Spock lead your out way the cell, you glanced at the guard and said, “Much obliged for lettin’ me stay in your place of refuge, cupcake.”

To his credit, he didn’t react.

You didn’t speak again once the two of you were out of the brig, nor did Spock. People stepped of your paths as you walked past. None of them so much as blinked an eye at your scantily dressed form. The commander lead you up three decks above the brig, to an elaborately carved door. He knocked once, but instead of waiting for an answer, he opened the door and guided you into what looked like a study. There were bookshelves covering every wall except for the across the room, which held a porthole window.

Just in front of that wall was a desk and sitting in behind it was a very familiar face.

“I brought the prisoner up, Captain,” He said.

A wicked grin curved your lips. “Why, hello, Captain Kirk!” You said with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Captain James T. Kirk looked at you, his blue eyes scanning you up and down before he glanced at his first mate. “Thank you, Mr. Spock. Return to your post,” He said quietly. Commander Spock left without a word.

“Thank you for the escort!” You called out as he walked out. As soon as the door swung shut, you turned to him. “He could use lighten up a bit, I reckon.”

Captain Kirk didn’t dignify that with an answer. He stood up from his seat and walked around the desk. “What government are you working for?” He asked.

You tilted her head in confusion. “Government?” Then you realized what he meant. “Oh no, no. I’m not a spy,” You said quickly.

“Then why have you been following us?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Because I didn’t have anything else to do.” You shrugged, stretching your wings out behind you.

“For three days?”

“Despite what the stories might say, life as a siren tends to be pretty boring when ships aren’t around.”

He tried to hide his surprise, but his wings - with blue feathers the same shade as yours - flared out, giving him away.

You laughed at that. “What, didn’t think sirens were real, did you?”

He glared at you. “No, I just didn’t think that the soulmate principle applied to them as well,” He said defensively. “Or that one would be so cocky.”

It was your turn to glare. “You know, I would love to insult you, but I am afraid I can’t do as well as nature did,” You shot back.

You stared at each other, neither of you daring to say a word.

After what felt like hours, but only a handful of minutes, he sighed and gave in. “What do we do now?”

“Well, it looks like I’m stuck with you.”

Tags: @yourtropegirl, @imamotherfuckingstar-lord, @annathewitch, @taylorjacksonandtheolympians, @auduna-druitt, @pinkamour1588, @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse, @feelmyroarrrr

#historicalauchallenge #jim kirk x reader #star trek aos #yourtropegirlchallenge #alex writes

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rauliskafan · 7 years

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Mouthpiece or Otherwise

Author’s Note: Here is my entry for the Historical AU Challenge courtesy of the amazing @yourtropegirl!!! Imagine the SVU crew inside a 1920s speakeasy... and the reader has her sights set on a certain ADA nursing a drink in the corner. This was so different for me but also tons of fun!!! Enjoy!!!

“Looking good, Lovely.”

His name was Sonny. A tall, lanky gent from the other side of the tracks. He wore vests that fit his frame and pomade that belied his age. Were the few silver streaks real or part of the show he put on as he decided who came and went at your club?

"So speaks the spiffy sheik," you said. Passing him a few bills and patting his cheek, you gained entrance with ease.

The place... your place was a palace of archways where ice cold whiskey flowed, and saxophones sizzled from the stage. A dark man in white tails forgot to wail for a few seconds when he met your eyes and sauntered to the footlights.

“There's the best set of gams this side of the Hudson!” he said.

“Sweet, Fin,” you said. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Had to see if there’s something else you want to hear,” he said. “Got any requests?”

You started to speak when you spotted the man of your hour for the first time that night. You’d seen him before. The Brooklyn lawyer by way of Manhattan. Never too proud to pop in for a drink. Word on the street was that he’d been by a lot as of late. And while the two of you had never exchanged a single word, you wanted to know more.

To know why.

“What’s it gonna be?” Fin asked.

“Let’s have a little I May Be Wrong.”

Naturally you hoped that you weren’t and showed Fin a smile when the song started. Listening to the notes that seemed to paint a path towards the farthest corner, you smoothed your hands down the sides of your beaded gown, your sights fixed on the man who downed another drink, his bow tie and vest askew while he listened to the music... and seemed sadder still. Wondering what had shifted in his section of the world, you inhaled a deep breath and---

"Care to be my luck charm tonight, Lovely?"

Your head snapped back, and you found yourself face to face with the brassy blonde in the short black fringe, sporting a feather in her hair.

"Amanda!" you cried, greeting her with a quick hug and peeking over her shoulder to see the chips on the table stacked in her favor. "Doesn't look like you need it. Someone hit a hot streak all on her own."

"Can never have too much of a good thing," she smirked back. "You in?" Tossing the dice between her fingers, you laughed and softly shook your head.

"Another time," you promised.

"I'll be here," she said, blowing on the cubes and tossing the game pieces to the felt.

"Another natural winner!" the dealer said when she rolled a seven even as no one spoke the word aloud. Amanda blew you a kiss, and you set back on your intended course...

...only to meet another interruption.

"How long you going to let that Dumb Dora keep it up?" Liv narrowed her eyes, and you rolled yours... as Amanda tossed the dice again to another wave of rapturous applause. The music grew louder, and the dance floor filled with swaying customers, drinks still in hand.

"How long are you going to play the bluenose, Liv?" you asked. "She's not hurting anyone."

"Tonight," Liv countered. "When it goes South, it's no easy task getting her to scram."

"Which is why I leave my joint in your more than capable hands," you said, touching her shoulder, your breath starting to catch in your throat when you saw your crush in the corner starting to shift in his seat. What was this? Was he getting ready to mooch?

"Last thing we need is another copper here," she said.

"Another?" you curiously asked.

"The sad sack," she said, pointing the man in the rumpled suit who seemed certain to fade if you didn't move fast.

"He's no copper," you said. "Call Sonny if you need help."

"If he's not chatting up a chippy when he should be watching the door," Liv frowned.

"Olivia!" you said, raising your voice as she took a step back. You patted her arms and forced a smile. "Have a drink. Cool it with the heebie jeebies."

"I don't drink on the job," she said.

"Which makes you the right dame for some things and a flat tire for others."

Taking the hint, she finally let you pass, and you raced forward just in time to see the man on his feet.

And you quickly reached for his arm.

"Hey! Going somewhere?"

He seemed stunned by your touch, and you thought you saw the smallest of smiles before his face fell and his shoulders sagged.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, his speech slightly slurred. Which sent a rush of blood from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

"Well it is my gin mill," you said. "And someone seems to like the scenery.”

"Someone needed a drink," he said.

"Makes sense," you said, easing him back to his seat and heaving a sigh of relief when he sat even as he hung his head. “Man in your line of work.”

"I'm on the lam," he said.

"Oh?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as he scrubbed a single hand over his face, tapping his other set of fingers on the tabletop. Fin switched to another song as the dance changed to rocking feet and swinging arms.

"Yes, I..." He stopped short, shaking his head and looking like he wanted to leave again.

"It'd bore you," he said.

"Try me," you challenged, daring to reach for his hand, liking the feel of his long fingers lacing with yours as he slowly lifted his head to meet your eyes.

"What do you think you know about me?" he asked.

"The basics," you replied. "You're a mouthpiece. You like your hooch."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive," he said.

"Thank God for that or the place wouldn't be packed every night."

You felt his palm relax a little in yours, but you waited and watched him, strands of swirling smoke from every lit gasper making him look like a man born in the mist, trying to break free from the haze...

...or possibly fall back into it?

"So what's the scoop?" you asked. "Some gumshoe crumb the play? Or a canary didn't sing?"

"No," he continued. "Can't lay this at anyone else's feet. This... this is all on me."

For a fleeting second, you wondered what he might have done? Was he a fakeloo or something far worse? All you had to do was whistle once, and Liv would make her way to your side. No need for Sonny; she could toss him out on her own if the man had dirt or something deeper, redder embedded about his soul.

"Do... do you know what happens to a man in my line of work when he drops the dime?"

"Isn't that the kind of thing you want?" you carefully asked. "Someone to inform on the bad eggs?"

"Not what happened here," he said. You could sense him wanting to say so much more when he clammed up and said he needed to drift.

"Rafael?"

It was the first time that you uttered his name aloud, having spoken it in your sleep, waking with the syllables and a smile still on your lips.

"You know my name," he said.

"Gotta keep the clientele straight," you said. "Something you want to talk about?"

Again, he looked like he wanted to spill, but you could sense his hesitation as the crowd grew, and Amanda roared after she rolled a Hard 10 for another point. He would be a goner if you didn't...

"Come with me."

Keeping a firm hold on his hand, you led him away from the song and the smoke until you hit the first available backroom. He hesitated when you patted the space beside you on the plush velvet couch, and you held your breath until he finally sat.

"Better?" you asked.

"A little," he said. "But... I mean I could use another---"

"I always carry a spare," you smiled. Reaching for your garter belt, you unveiled a flask and saw his green eyes grow wide when you took a sip before passing the bottle his way.

"Share and share alike," you said.

"You keep the prime merchandise for yourself?" he asked.

"I drink the same as my customers," you said, wanting to take offense. But in a different light he seemed so earnest, miles away from all wet. And playing the high hat was far from your style.

"Imbibe, Mr. ADA," you urged.

"Not for much longer," he said with a swift sip.

"Seriously?”

“I shouldn’t---”

“Come on. You going to get a wiggle on or what?"

You punctuated each word with one hand stroking his thigh and bit your lower lip until he took a deep breath.

And the words poured out.

"There was this kid," he started. "Skinny as a rail. Not a match to strike. And he... he robbed a place very much like this."

"Really," you carefully said. "Why would that be a bad thing? Thought it might help your sort out."

"Not when the fella running that joint is in the DA's back pocket," he said. "So they want to make this kid the fall guy for a whole lot of things that he played no part in. Makes the medicine go down easier for everyone."

"But not sitting right with you," you said.

"Sticks right in my craw," he confessed. "They gave me a choice; play the pushover or be put out to pasture."

"And someone selected the latter," you knowingly said, realizing that it was more than the way he looked with a glass in hand. You were nothing if not a good judge of character, and this man, mouthpiece or otherwise, was the cat's meow because he was a darb in a world of double-crosses.

"I'm sorry," you said, taking his hand again. "But it's just ducky that you came here to get fried."

"Not quite half seas over yet," he said. "Getting there."

"Gives us more time to talk," you said.

"What about?"

Where to start? He'd hit your heart on all sixes the second you laid eyes on him. Joe Brooks with It and so much more in your juice joint. The man knew his onions, the Real McCoy when it came to conscience and compassion. You wanted that in your life. To see where it led. To taste a different flavor than the swells who might take you for a ride, the torpedoes you had to dodge more often than not. But first things first; let him see that you were on the level, that this was a chance for something special. And if the middle aisle was in the cards down the line...?

"Rafael, how'd you like to work for me?" you asked.

"You?" he echoed.

"Could use someone hip to the jive. And before you object, know this; I've had an earful of the cats you described. On both sides of the cooler. Wouldn't you love to find a way to beat them all at their own game?"

You watched him mull over the proposition. Would he take the bait? Or give you the bum's rush?

"They... they call you Lovely, right?"

"My friends do. Are we friends, Rafael?"

Finishing the flask, he passed it back into your free hand and finally flashed a full smile.

"Yes, Lovely. And I'm listening."

#raúl esparza #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #historicalauchallenge #1920s #speakeasy #dominick sonny carisi #fin tutuola #amanda rollins #olivia benson #law & order: svu #svu fanfiction

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commander-writergirl · 7 years

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A Long Road to Happiness

Title: Long Road to Happiness (Viking Steve) Summary: Steve must find a mate and protect his clan. Though not every road is easy or simple and comes with a few bumps Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Mention of nudity, labor, death, and sexual mentioning Word Count: 1910 Tags: This is for @yourtropegirl Historical AU challenge so :)

Steve walked through the village. His official ceremony on becoming chief was days away as was his 18th birthday and his placement day. With all this coming about the council was pressuring Steve to find a mate.

Many of the girls in the village had been placed years ago. Steve wanted to be with Peggy, but she had been set up as an Alpha and he knew it would probably not work out if he became an Alpha as well. Steve sighed as he continues his walk, leading himself into the woods.

As Steve continued his walks, his mind full of everything going on, when he heard the voice of an angel. Steve started following it til he came across you.

Steve watched you as you did what could be clothes. You were an orphan and Steve was warned about what would happen if he picked you as his mate. But now, Steve felt something inside him change. When you showed signs of getting ready to leave, Steve bolted back to the village.

That night Steve was restless as he slept, his body changing to fit his new status.

When Steve awoke the next morning, his body felt like it had gone through a hundred battles at once. He slowly got up and swung his legs over his bed, his feet fully touching the ground. Steve looked over himself and gasped slightly. He was no longer scrawny but muscular and it seemed he grew a foot more overnight. As Steve admired his new body, Bucky walked in.

“Oh wow, smells like your placement came early, Alpha.” Steve looked over at his friend.

“I guess I’ll need new clothes.”

“Already ahead of you.”

As Steve walked through the village he could feel every eye on him. But the only eyes he cared for were yours. Steve never realized how intoxicating your scent was until he was a few feet away.

“Y/N.”

“Steven.” You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling self-conscious in front of the boy you used to play with. But now he was an alpha and you were an unclaimed omega.

“I would like to marry you, Y/N. If you would allow me.”

“Steven, you will be chief in a few days, you should…”

“I only want you, Y/N.” You looked at him. You knew what the village thought of you, but every part of you craved Steve’s touch, even if it would be months before your marriage.

“Yes, then my answer is yes.” Steve smiled at your response and picked you up before spinning you around.

A week after Steve’s chief ceremony, he and his men were sent into battle, where Steve experienced his first rut. The men found Steve an unclaimed to have even against his and Bucky’s wishes, but once the smell hit him Steve had no control. Once the week had passed and Steve came down from his rut all he felt was guilt for what he did and anger towards his men. When the men returned you could tell something happened and after hearing the men speak, you knew exactly what it was. For the next month you ignored and avoided Steve. For the whole week of your heat, your body wanted Steve, but your heart still felt too much pain.

Once your heat passed, you left your hut and headed for the private lake you had found long ago. Once there, you stripped out of your clothes and sank into the water. You sighed as the cool water washed your stress away.

“Y/N?” You jumped slightly and looked over to find Steve staring at you. “Please Y/N just listen to me?” You looked down and sighed nodding your head. “I didn’t want to do it, I even told the men not to worry about it but… I’m sorry Y/N, I truly am.” You bit your lip and looked over Steve.

“Come join me.” Steve looked at you before getting out of his clothes. You moved to the middle of the lake when Steve started to enter. Once Steve got to you, he snaked his arms around your waist. “I’m hurt Steve, but I also understand. Just don’t let it happen again.” Steve nodded and pulled you flush against him.

“I promise.” You laid your forehead against his and closed your eyes listening to the forest around you.

Your wedding had come and gone off without a hitch. Most of the older clan members still judged you. For with no knowledge of your family could they know if you could produce an heir. Steve didn’t care though, he had hope in the gods.

The morning after your wedding, you slept quietly under the furs gifted to you and Steve. Steve sat watching you and smiled whenever you made a little noise. It was late spring, and Steve would hopefully not have to leave you for many months for the hunting season. Steve was awake because his fears had returned. After the death of both his parents, Steve held a fear of losing everyone close to him. Now with you he feared it would happen again.

“Steve?” Steve looked over to find you waking up. “Come back to bed babe.” Steve got up and climbed back into bed with you. “What is it?”

“Nothing my love, just nightmares.” You looked up at him with concern in your eyes. “Its nothing Y/N.” You gently strokes his cheek than pecked his lips pressing against him slightly.

“When you are ready, you can tell me anything.” Steve brought your hand to his lips and kissed it lightly.

“I know, and I will someday. But now I think I want to ravish my bride some more.” You giggled as Steve moved to hover over you, his arousal pressed against your thigh.

At the year mark of your marriage you were proud to tell the clan of your pregnancy. Although soon after the men had to leave for battle. The last thing Steve wanted was to leave you.

“I will be fine Steven. The Shield Maidens will allow no harm to come to me or our pups.” You and Steve looked at your growing belly.

“Still though.” Steve looked at you.

“Steven, I know your instincts are telling you to stay but what example will that set for your men.” Steve knew you were right, but it didn’t change the facts.

“We will return before you know it.” Steve kissed you deeply before joining his men. You and the others stood and watched.

It was months before the men had returned and when they did, Steve and his men were battered and bruised with a handful of men lost.

“We will need to move along, its not longer safe in these lands.” Steve spoke to his people. They had won but the enemy would return and so the clan quickly got to packing up what they needed while Steve went to prepare your stuff. When Steve found you, you were huddled in your nest, arms wrapped around your swollen belly sound asleep. Steve kneeled next to you and strokes your hair from your face. Steve quickly started packing things up as you slept and requested a cart for you and the other pregnant members of your clan. When you awoke the whole hut was packed save for the furs and blankets you slept on.

“Steve, what’s happening?” You slowly got up making Steve quickly rushing to your side.

“We have to find a new home my love.” Steve picked up the makings of your nest and carried them to the cart waiting. You looked around the hut, rubbing your belly before following after Steve.

Steve helped you into the cart and you quickly got to work on fixing your nest. The other women has agreed to share a cart but said you deserved your own since among them you were the only omega and the chief’s wife. As his closest friend and ally, Bucky was to watch over you as Steve lead the clan.

Bucky kept you entertained and calm through the journey and when everyone stopped for the night, Steve joined you in the cart.

“I’ve missed you Y/N.”

“We’ve missed you too Steven.” You curled up facing him, so your belly was completely protected. That night, Steve did not truly sleep. His fears coming to the forefront of his mind again. Though he knew tomorrow night the clan would find their new home and everyone would be safe again.

You went into labor just as the last hut was being finished. Steve had been kicked out by the midwives. He had started pacing, your screams putting everyone on edge.

As the day went on, Steve became worried when the screaming had stopped but no one had come out yet. But soon Peggy came out with something in her arms.

“Chief, this is your son.” Steve carefully took the new born from Peggy and held him close. Though as Steve admired his boy, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. It was another mid-wife with a bundle in her arms, but she was walking away from Steve. When he went to follow her, Peggy stopped him. “One didn’t make it Steve.” Peggy’s voice held a touch of sadness and Steve felt a part of him break.

“How many?”

“Four in total; two girls and two boys.” Steve nodded his head and looked down at his son. “You can go see her now if you wish.” Steve nodded and walked into the hut to find you slightly paler but with a small smile on your face. You reclined with your arms full. Steve walked over to you and settled next to you.

“Steven, this is Lorelei and Sif, your daughters.” Steve looked at his two girls and his heart was no longer his own. You and your girls owned it. “And you are holding Ari, your son.” Steve looked down at Ari to find two perfect Y/E/C eyes staring up at him. A mid-wife came by and helped you set the girls into their cradle, so you could finally rest. When the mid-wives all finally left and it was just you, Steve, and your children; Steve asked his question.

“What happened with our other son?”

“He was our last and I was in so much pain Steven. I couldn’t push and the mid-wife couldn’t get him out in time. He was still born.” Steve could hear the guilt in your voice. He carefully set the now sleeping Ari in his crib and held you against him as you started crying. “I’m so sorry Steve, I’m sorry.” Steve quickly silenced you with a kiss, wiping away your tears as he stroked your cheek.

“It will be alright my love, I promise. You have given me an heir and two beautiful girls, I will not force you to have anymore children.” You nodded your head and curled up against Steve the exhaustion catching up with you. “Sleep my love, we will be here when you wake.” You nodded your head and quickly fell asleep. Steve stroked your hair as he held you. He knew the clan would mourn the one lost tonight and tomorrow would celebrate the birth of three new members.

For the whole night though, Steve did not sleep taking care of anything you or the babies needed. For he would give up his place as chief just to spend every day with the four of you.

#steve rogers #au #Viking!steve #captain america #marvel #historicalauchallenge #yourtropegirlchallenge #sammi's writing #SJ Green

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theenchantedgalleryofstories · 7 years

Photo

Victorian era

@rauliskafan @pinkamour1588 @auduna-druitt @captainsbabysitter-blog @randomlittleimp @viioletdelights @eyeofdionysus @tilltheendwilliwrite @vintagemichelle91

#my mood boards #aesthetics #story boards #victorian era #historicalauchallenge #mood boards

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captainsbabysitter-blog · 7 years

Text

Clover Cafe Ch2

Chapter One

Pairing: McKirk

Rating: M for violence-ish in this one

Length: 1249 words

Summary: Len’s been going back to the Clover regularly now, and a couple of Jim’s employees start to wonder who this guy is wooing their boss. They get to meet Mama McCoy and witness just why Len’s so good at what he does.

~*~*~*~

It becomes, at least, a weekly thing. Leonard would tap Ben in and the two of them made their way to the Clover on Main to sit, sip at some of the best coffee Len had ever had, then duck down below to partake in some of the worst whiskey to ever pass his lips. The redeeming factor was always the dance saved for him by Jim, but he also enjoyed antagonizing Spock, the bartender.

Really, he should have expected what happened next. The whole place was on edge any time Len spent extra attention on their boss, but he never would have thought the piano man Ben fancied and the sax player that couldn’t be older than 18 if that would have the guts to follow them out. He glanced to his side and gave Ben a slight nod with an amused smile; if that’s how this was going to go down, so be it. They’d be in for an interesting time.

About the time they reached the gate that led up to the McCoy family home, Len finally broke the silence, “You boys wanna come up for a real drink? Been a long walk and I’d hate to see ya go back empty handed.”

The responding squeak from the young blonde almost made him laugh, but he schooled his features into a congenial smile. “Come on, now. You don’t have much choice in the matter at this point.”

“What the hell does that mean?” The pianist- Hikaru, if Len remembered Ben’s rambling from the first week- demanded.

“Laddie, I think it means yer outnumbered, outgunned, and out’ve options,” Scotty piped up from behind the group. He and Christine stood behind both Hikaru and the boy with guns trained on the backs of their heads. “Ye must’ve been straight ossified t’be followin’ him here.”

“Christine, you look nice. Did the two of you go out?” Len asked casually as he unlocked the gate.

“She found this bird she fancies and wanted someone te watch her back,” Scotty grumbled. “I cannae find my own fun in a place like tha’, Leonard.”

“Next time you get to pick the place and she’ll wing,” Len replied easily. “Come on, boys. I have a meeting I’m already late for and Marcus isn’t known for his patience.”

The man in question is already seated at the table fuming when the group walks in headed by Len. Christine, Ben, and Scotty stand silently behind the chair of their boss, watching over the other three occupants of the room like hawks.

“Sit down, boys, and we’ll begin. Now Marcus… You and I had an agreement, I believe? We leave each other’s shipments alone and part as silent enemies? What would you go setting fire to one of my cars for?” His tone was deceptively calm, almost like he was having a casual conversation with a high school pal.

“It was in my territory. I was well within my rights to set fire to it and put a couple bullets in the heads of your men, but I didn’t, did I?”

“They were passing through. I’ve let your stock pass through mine unmolested on many occasions.”

“Not my problem if you can’t keep your borders guarded, McCoy, but I’m damn well going to keep your men off mine.”

A small woman Hikaru and Pavel could only assume was Leonard’s mother came in with a glass of whiskey and set it down in front of Marcus. “Here you are, Mr. Marcus. Fresh out’ve the still.”

Instead of thanks, he just nodded and waved her off, missing the way Leonard’s entire body seemed to tighten at the disrespect. Mama seemed to take it in stride, however, and just smiled at her son. “Your friends need something to drink, Leonard?”

“They’re from that cafe I was telling you about, mama. Get them something from yesterday’s batch.”

The second she was out of earshot, Marcus leaned in in an attempt to be intimidating. “You listen here… Any more of your coffin varnish come over my border and you’ll find what’s left of your men in a hat box, you understand me? And if that pretty thing behind you happens to be there, we’ll show her a good time first.”

Lens’ grip on his glass tightened a little, but he just leveled the man with a mild look. Mama came back with drinks for Hikaru and Pavel. “Here you go, dears. Drink up and enjoy!”

After a couple hesitant sips, both their faces lit up. Sulu took a deeper pull from his glass. He looks up at mama’s beaming face with a wide grin. “Ma’am, I haven’t had hootch this good ina dog’s age.”

“Oh hush, young man.” She turned her smile from the boys to Marcus. “And how do you like your drink, Mr. Marcus?”

As the attention of the room turned toward the rival gin runner, he seemed to have a little trouble forming an answer. He started sweating and his face turned a bit red as he started choking on what appeared to be nothing. Hikaru and Pavel shared a horrified look while the others looked almost bored with the proceedings. It wasn’t until Marcus began scrabbling at his neck, flecks of blood flying from his lips, that mama tutted over the red on her nice linens.

“Really, you can’t even die neatly,” she scolded him lightly once his head hit the table. When she saw the shared looks of fear directed at their own glasses, mama couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh bless your hearts! Yours are just whiskey, dears. I can’t abide rudeness under my roof. Ben? Scotty? Be a dear and take care of this, will you? Christine could you help me with this tablecloth? Last thing I need is to ruin my new linens.”

The three hopped to it immediately with a reverent “yes, ma’am.” Len just took another sip of his own drink and turned his gaze toward the two jazzers sitting at his table.

“So. Would you like to tell me what you were doing following me now?”

“We wanted to see what you were like,” Hikaru blurted. Pavel nodded eagerly in agreement.

“The keptin is very… Trusting,” Pavel added.

“I see. Well I can respect that. You’re his men, and you’re just doing your due diligence, hm?” When they nodded, he continued, “I’ll overlook it once. Once. This once. You stick your noses where they don’t belong again, and you’ll be carrying them back to your mamas, you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” came the unison response.

“That being said, you like our whiskey here?” He took the immediate enthusiastic praise as an affirmative. “I’m looking to maybe sell to Jim. That garbage y’all are serving there now makes me want to chase it by chomping on the glass it came with.”

The two shared an uncertain look. That couldn’t be good. A silent conversation took place between them before Pavel spoke, “That might not be possible.”

“Why? Surely he wouldn’t mind having better stock for the same price or better.”

“Yeah, well… Jim’s already got a supplier, and he’s pretty possessive…”

“And he gives the keptin protection for the bar.”

“And if I can offer the same protection or better?” Len asked curiously.

“Might still be too dangerous…” Really, it was the nervous, almost fearful looks that had Len concerned. “

“Who the hell has you two acting like he’ll burst through the walls any second?”

“You ever hear of a cat called Khan?”

Tagging: @pinkamour1588 @auduna-druitt @yourtropegirl @gracieminabox @thevalesofanduin @southernbellestatues @emmkolenn @randomlittleimp @the-space-goddess-16 @thinkwritexpress-official @kawaiiusagichansan @yallneedtrek @whatif-animagineblog @bookcaseninja @zaczytanka-fangirl

Click here if you want to be added to my tag list!

#historicalauchallenge #mckirk #jim kirk #leonard mccoy #mama's a badass in this one guys #i love her #star trek fanfiction #tia writes #clover cafe

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kaunis-sielu · 7 years

Text

The Sheriff

A/N: this is for @yourtropegirl historical au challenge. I know there’s not a lot of dialogue, there will be more in the next part. This was just getting waaaaay too long.

It usually doesn’t get so cold. It gets cold, obviously, you live in northern Nevada so winters do exist. You’ve just never seen so much snow.

It feels like it’s been coming down for days. Sometimes as little flurries, other times as big flakes. You’re thankful for your friendship with the Native population and their willingness to trade with a woman. The thick blankets, lined with fur, were a godsend. The wooden frame with the deer hide cover that they’d taught you to build inside the cave to keep weather and animals out was proving a success. It wasn’t warm by any means but you were dry, safe and with your mutt by your side. It wasn’t ideal but you were able to survive, rarely needed anything you couldn’t trade for or make and most importantly no one has ever found you.

It’s been getting darker earlier and since the snow has been falling even mid-day has seemed like dusk.

You’re just starting to cook some dinner over the small fire you’ve got in your cave when you hear a noise. A high pitched noise, you can’t place it until you hear it again.

A whinny.

Who the hell, was going to be out in this weather? You hear it again and decide that you can’t just let someone be lost out in the cold. Wrapping yourself into your warmest clothing you’ve got, you hurry to the entrance of the cave and peer out into the twilight. Sure enough, there’s a large dark shape of a horse. You don’t see a rider, so after checking both directions you scurry out of your cave and over to the horse.

“Hey. Hey buddy, it’s okay.” You soothe as you make your way to the spooked horse. The horse shies away from you as you slowly make your way toward it. “Shhh. Shhh. Where’s your rider buddy?” You coo stepping toward him when you suddenly step on something squishy.

The squishy something grunts and you scream leaping back. You’ve stepped on the horse’s rider.

“Oh god. Oh my god are you alright?” You ask brushing some of the snow away from the rider’s body, they sounded male when they grunted but it was hard to tell. Sure enough when you get the snow off of the rider you see a light brown beard.

He’s huge compared to you. At least 6 feet tall and if his broad shoulders are any indicator he’s fit too. You try to pull him up by the front of the jacket he’s wearing and quickly realize that this is never going to work.

“Alright cowboy. You’re gonna have to help me out here. I need you to stand.” You tell him, his eyes barely open and you’re honestly not sure he’s even conscious. “Come on cowboy, stand up. I can’t get you to safety without your help.” You search the horse for something, anything, to help you move the stranger back to your cave. You find a rope on the horse’s saddle and after looping the rope around his torso a few times you bring the rope to the other side of the horse and hoist him onto the horse’s back. His chest is pressed against the saddle as his arms and legs hang over each side of the horse. He doesn’t say anything, just groans and you lead his horse into your cave.

You ease him onto the floor near your bedroll, then cover him with your fur blanket. You want to warm him but you’ve got to take care of this horse too.

Grabbing the horse’s bridle you lead him further down the cave to one of the off-shoots where you’ve kept horses before. You remove the saddle, bridle, blanket and make sure he’s got some food and water before hurrying back to his rider.

He’s sitting up and staring off into the distance. His brown hair has flopped into his face but you can see one of his bright blue eyes. Sitting on his chest is a golden star that says ‘SHERIFF’.

“Uh, Sheriff what are you doin’?”

“Hot.” He growls as he starts to pull at his clothes.

“Okay, well you’ve got hypothermia, so let’s get some of your wet things off.” You peel off the coat and unbutton his shirt, which is a huge mistake, he’s so fit. You shake your head to clear it then lay his clothes out in front of the fire. “Wrap yourself in the blanket then give me your pants.”

“What?” His voice is deeper than you thought it’d be. Richer. Of course you’ve seen the Sheriff around but you’d never spoken to him, never needed to.

“You have to get all of your wet clothes off or you could get frost bite. I might have some men’s clothes-“ you trail off after his pants come out from the blanket. Again you have to shake yourself to get your mind back on track. “Alright Sheriff, get closer to the fire but watch out for my blanket. I like that one. Food should be done soon.”

“Where’s my horse?”

“Safe.”

“Kay.” You hang his pants too then move to the fire to check the food before moving back to him to make sure that his body is recovering. He’s not shivering yet which isn’t a great sign but he’s still conscious and his eyes are tracking your movement. You grab your second blanket from your bed and drape it around his shoulders.

“Lucky.” You call, cupping the Sheriff’s face in your hands his skin is cold, and a little clammy.

“What?”

“My dog. I want her to curl up with you. You need the body heat.” Moments later your dog comes trotting over. “Come ‘mere.” She does and you point to his lap, “Curl up.” Thankfully Lucky does as you ask and curls into his lap.

#steverogersimagine #steverogersau #imagine steve rogers au #steve rogers au #wild west au #imagine avengers au #avengers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #imagine #imagine steve rogers #captain america au #captainamericaau #captain america x reader #historicalauchallenge

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omg-imagine · 7 years

Text

⊱ With You ⊰

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Pairing: Jim Kirk x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, sex, and infidelity. Set in Ancient Rome.

Words: 3,491

A/N: This is for @yourtropegirl’s historical AU challenge! It’s the first challenge and AU that I’ve done and had so much fun writing it. Like most of my stories, there is a lot of angst but it won’t last for long.

The final battle–this was it.

For months, you've watched the strongest and fiercest of men fight to win their freedom. It was a favorite source of entertainment for the Romans, which you could never find any enjoyment in.

The games were barbaric. The agonizing screams of those gladiators and the images of them taking their last breath haunted you in your dreams every night, and there was nothing that you could do. Your husband was the emperor, and organizing those games brought the most profit to the city. Thousands of people would travel from other cities and gather together in the Colosseum where the contests were held.

Never would you have thought that your life would be like this. You were still young and had big dreams. You had the spirit of adventure and have always wanted to explore new lands, those beyond the city’s walls.

However, fate had a much more different plan for you.

The games were to start in less than an hour or so, and you were seated high with a full view of the arena down below. As you reveled in the calmed silence, you looked up to the great heavens above. The hue of the sky instantly reminded you of the bluest eyes you've ever seen.

He would be out there soon, you thought. Live or die, you came to realize that today would be the last time you'll see him.

The moonlight highlighted the soft features of his resting face. The old battle scars have now faded and though he seemed weary, you thought about how beautiful he still was.

“Staring again, (Y/N)?” He whispered and as his eyes fluttered open. “You’re awake.”

“I am,” you replied, nuzzling closer to his warmth and delighted by the feeling of his arms wrapping around your body. “Haven’t been able to sleep.”

“I wonder why,” he teased, pressing intoxicating kisses down your neck while you sighed deeply. He paused for a moment to prop himself up on one elbow, his fingers brushing the stray hairs away from your face. “What’s on your mind?”

You bit your tongue in response. Ever since your secret rendezvous with Jim began, you understood that there were risks involved. If word went out that you were being unfaithful and sleeping with a gladiator, you would be exiled or even worse–killed.

Yet, you threw caution to the wind. You were willing to forget about the consequences just to be with Jim. For six months, you would sneak out of your villa and meet Jim in a small forgotten cabin by the edge of the city. There, the two of you made love as if you were the only ones left in the world.

“It’s my husband,” you finally answered in a quiet voice. “He’s returning tomorrow night and I’m not sure I will be able to see you as often anymore.”

Jim cupped the side of your face and gave you a tender smile. “I understand. This was bound to happen.”

“I don’t want to be with him,” you revealed. “There is no love between him and me.”

It was the truth. Your marriage to Cassius was arranged and you had no say in it. Your parents craved wealth and power and decided that it was best for their child to marry someone for riches rather than for love. Though you lived a lavish lifestyle, something was always missing and you were never truly happy.

“I know,” Jim said, kissing your tears away as he held you close. “Until then, you are with me. We will find a way to be together, (Y/N). I'll win my freedom and I'll take you away from this wretched land, I promise."

You caught a glimpse of Jim strapping his armor on in one corner of the arena. Beads of sweat dripped down his toned arms as he fastened his metal breastplate before picking up a rustic gold helmet nearby. He drew out his sword, inspecting the sharpness of the blade which shone under the bright sun.

You silently wished he could see you from where he stood. You haven’t seen him since a few nights ago and you were missing him terribly.

“It's difficult, isn't it?” asked Lavinia, your husband’s daughter from a previous marriage.

“What is?” You wondered.

“Loving someone you can't have,” she clarified, taking the seat next to yours. You were ready to feign shock at her observation, but it was no use. “I know about your relationship with the slave.”

“Please do not tell your father. He will kill him.”

Lavinia smiled sadly and placed a comforting hand on your back. She was about the same age as you, maybe even slightly older by a year or two. She understood how her father was and felt sorry when you were forced to marry him. Yet since unwillingly becoming a part of the family, Lavinia became a confidant and you trusted her.

“I won't, do not worry,” she reassured. “I once had a love, and my father disapproved of him. We never got the chance to be together after my father banished him from Rome.”

“I’ve heard that story around the villa. I am sorry,” you said and silence washed over the both of you before you spoke again. “I did have him, Lavinia. I loved him but I had to let him go.”

You sighed and held back the tears. It was becoming too difficult to convince yourself that those kisses and touches meant nothing to you. You kept saying that what you felt for the gladiator was far from love, but as much as you tried to believe your own words, you just couldn’t.

“(Y/N), do you love him?”

Her question caught you off guard and you pretended to not have heard. But when Lavinia repeated herself, all you could do was give her an honest nod.

“Would you risk everything to be with James again?”

You stared at your hands resting on your lap. The answer was on the tip of your tongue, and you couldn't bring yourself to say it out loud.

“I came here as fast as I could,” Jim said as he shut the door behind him. “What's the matter?”

“I-I can't…” you stuttered, and he held your hands in his. “Jim…”

“Yes?”

He gazed into your eyes and for just one second, you forgot why you were there in the first place.

You couldn't bear it. You would be breaking his heart as well as yours, but it was for the best. You were concerned about his safety and after deciding that this was the only way to protect him, it didn't matter how hurt you were going to be.

“I am ending this,” you responded. “We are through.”

Jim briefly stared at you and shook his head. “What do you mean? I'm about to win my freedom in the upcoming battle and we’re going to run away like we promised.”

“Plans have changed, James,” you stated with regret. “Win your freedom and leave the city. I can't see you anymore.”

“You’re serious? (Y/N), please do not joke. Is Cassius forcing you to do this?”

Shaking your head, you took a step back. “No, he's not.”

The lie caused an ache in your chest, one that you tried to ignore as you continued on. “I'm sorry, Jim. This was all a mistake. We were both foolish to have acted on our lust.”

“You don't mean that. (Y/N), just two nights ago, you said that you love me.”

“I don't,” you quickly shot back and it pained you even more. “I don't love you. I've never had. My husband was away for months and I was looking for another man to bed with during his absence.”

Jim’s lip tightened and you could see his tears starting to fall. “No, I don't believe it. You and I felt the same thing during the time we were together. Do not deny it.”

You wanted to run into his arms and wipe his tears away. The fact that you were the reason for his heartache didn't sit well with you, and you were almost ready to take your words back.

But it had to be done. It was the only way to keep him safe until the final battle.

Your feet shuffled towards the door, and just before exiting, you spoke to him one last time. “Love can blind a person from the other’s true intentions. I am sorry that your judgment was clouded, but please understand that our affair meant nothing more.”

The game began with a fifty living and breathing men ready to rip each other apart, and by the second hour–only three remained. One by one, Jim executed those who came after him. Though you wanted to turn away from the bloodshed, you needed to know that he’s able to make it out alive.

He’s a survivor, you reminded yourself. He has survived many games as intense as this one, he could certainly survive another.

“My love,” your husband appeared after being gone during most of the event. “You seem very invested in this more than usual.”

“It’s intense,” you simply replied, your eyes not leaving Jim’s form.

“I suppose it is. That gladiator James is on the path to freedom so they say. If he wins this battle, I am told to grant his freedom.”

Glancing over to Cassius, you noticed him studying you. “And will you?”

“Of course, I don’t see why not.”

You let out a sigh of relief and brought your focus back to the game. It wasn’t until you heard your husband muttering something under his breath that you turned to him once more.

“What did you say?”

Cassius smirked. “I said ‘if he makes it to the end will I grant his freedom.’”

“What do you mean?” You asked with a nervous chuckle that you didn't intend to come out. “He always makes it to the end. He’s one of the strongest men out there in the arena. Those two others don’t stand a chance. You might as well end the fight now and give him his freedom because it’s inevitable.”

Cassius shot you a look before leaning back against his seat. “I couldn’t care less about those two unfortunate men. They aren’t the grand finale to this man’s story.”

“What is it then?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You are asking too many questions, dear.”

“This is the last one, I promise.”

“Well, I've arranged a bit of a surprise at the end for our warrior James. I met him during my last travel.”

You suddenly felt uneasy in your seat. Something wrong was about to happen but you haven't got the slightest clue.

All of a sudden, the crowd cheered and stood on their feet when Jim drove his sword through the last man standing–making him the last man standing.

You were so overjoyed, close to bursting into tears but you had to remain calm. You weren't supposed to care the slightest about Jim. You breathed in and out, trying to control your emotions.

He's done it. He's free.

You looked to your left and saw Cassius grinning to himself. He stayed in his seat and you wondered what was taking him so long. He should have been up there already announcing the victor’s name and awarding him with the freedom as promised.

The gate opened up once again, and a large man emerged. You could see the bloodlust in his eyes and the strength and power he had just by the way he gripped the sword in his hand. He was almost beast-like, and he towered over Jim, slowly approaching him with a menacing face.

“His name is Adam of Ephesus, and he is as ruthless as they come. He’s quite a match for James,” Cassius noted, your eyes widening. “Let the final round begin.”

“N-No,” you stuttered. “It can't be. You can't do this!”

“And why not?” Cassius snarled. “You think I'm ignorant? Do you really believe that I would never find out and let you get away with this?”

That's when you realized what he meant by Jim's “grand finale.” Looking below, you saw the two circling each other.

You felt powerless as the fight continued. Jim was exhausted at this point. He had already used up most of his energy and strength earlier, and he would need to recuperate for a while to be able to fight Adam.

For the first time since the battle has started, Jim glanced up at the audience, his eyes searching in the sea of people for yours. Once he meets your attentive gaze, you felt that very same spark you did on the day you first met.

It was a goodbye. He was saying his goodbye.

As the fight went on, Adam quickly gained the upper hand. Jim’s sword was knocked out of his hand and he was left to shield himself from Adam’s powerful thrusts. As Adam raised his sword, Jim ducked and charged towards his lower half, effectively knocking the bigger man down as he quickly retrieved his sword.

When Jim turned around, however, Adam’s closed fist struck his head and he fell on the hard ground. Adam kicked his sword away from Jim’s reach and held him by his throat, growling as the weakened man attempted to free himself from his grasp. Adam then decided against strangling Jim to death and instead, threw him across the arena where he landed with a loud thud.

Jim was bleeding profusely. Despite the broken bones and the deep wounds, Jim attempted to get up once more. But it was impossible for him to do so, he struggled miserably while Adam approached him with a boisterous laugh.

He was going to die. You were about to lose him forever.

Your mind thought back to Lavinia’s question earlier that you couldn't seem to answer before. Would you risk everything to be with James again?

Yes, you admitted to yourself. Yes, yes, yes.

You loved Jim, and he loved you. You didn’t want him to die, you didn’t want to see him die. It would haunt you forever and you knew you would never be able to sleep at night with the memory of Jim, the love of your life, dying right in front of you.

There was one thing you could do, you mused. It was risky, but with Jim, you were willing to take any risk.

You shut your eyes tight and prayed to all the gods for enough strength and courage needed to do what you were about to do.

When you reopened them, you stood up from your seat with much determination. Cassius noticed and yelled for you return to his side at once. You shook your head without turning to face him. You stared at the enormous crowd, who all fell silent when you were in view.

“Do not do something that you will regret, (Y/N),” Cassius warned.

“I won't regret any of this,” you whispered to yourself, looking past your shoulder and meeting your husband’s hateful eyes. “We will find a way together.”

Your gaze returned to the front where Adam was seconds from ending Jim's life. You held a thumbs up out to the crowd, signaling for the fight to cease and to let the love of your life live.

The whole crowd gasped and stared at you. You didn’t know how to react to the complete silence and stillness of the atmosphere. Yet, as you stood tall in front of your people after going against your husband, you could only think about one thing.

“Jim,” you murmured.

He lifted his head up and looked at you. You saw him mouth your name just before he fell unconscious and Cassius dragged you away from the spectators’ view.

Despite the uncertainty of your future, you knew you spared Jim’s life today. And as promised, you two would find a way.

Cassius had you locked up in the same cabin where you would spend the nights with Jim.

For three days, you were plagued with questions. You didn’t know what was going to happen next and you started to second guess whether or not the decision you made was the right one.

You weren’t sure about Jim’s well-being after the fight. The last time you saw him, he was in bad shape and Cassius wouldn’t tell you if he had survived his injuries. If he did, you wondered if you sentenced him to a far worse fate. Cassius would have surely punished Jim in a gruesome way if he had made it out of that arena alive.

You settled into the cot in the middle of the cabin. Jim’s faint scent still lingered in the bed sheets, and you were overwhelmed with the feeling of despair. He could either be alive and well or just another carcass dumped in an unmarked grave. You didn’t know.

“(Y/N)?”

You thought you were hallucinating. A knock and a voice similar to Jim's sounded, but you felt as though it was just your mind playing tricks. Closing your eyes for a minute or two, another persistent knock on the door jolted you awake.

Moving to the front door, you heard keys jingling on the other side. The door slowly swung open and at first, all you saw were the shadows of a man and a woman. They stepped out of the darkness and into the villa, and that’s when you were greeted by those unmistakable blue eyes.

“Jim?”

Again, you weren’t entirely sure if this was real. But when Jim reached out to cup the side of your face, tracing the edges of your quivering lips, you realized that it was truly him.

“It’s me,” he said as he held you. “You spared me.”

“I did,” you uttered. “I thought you were going to die. I was about to lose you.”

“I am here now,” he replied and you reached up to kiss him. You poured everything into that single kiss–all of your emotions, your fears, your worries, and your regrets. You knew it wasn’t enough to show him how much you loved him, but it was definitely enough to let him know that you did.

“I love you, James,” you breathed and he looked at you as though you were the light of his life. “I didn't mean those words I said a couple nights ago. I had to let you go. I had to give you up because Cassius was becoming suspicious and–”

Jim pressed a finger against your lips. “Shh, I know. You do not need to explain yourself because I understand.”

Instead of responding with more words, you pulled him down for another kiss and he was more than happy to oblige.

A cough in the background caused you both to pull apart and that’s when you noticed Lavinia standing nearby. “I apologize for interrupting but we do need to go before the guards come to check up on you.”

“You’re helping us?” you questioned.

Jim took your hands into his. “She is. Cassius is planning on executing me tomorrow morning and Lavinia was able to sneak me out of my cell. We managed to evade the guards and rushed here to come get you.”

“You went against Cassius,” you pointed out in surprise.

“Of course,” Lavinia declared. “I am tired of my father tearing others away from their loved ones. I want you two to have the chance that I’ve never had. I’ve arranged for you safe passage on a ship that leaves in two hours. It will take you someplace far where you can have a fresh start.”

“Lavinia,” you cried as you rushed to hug her. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“It’s my way of honoring my dear lost love. I may not have had a happy ending, but at least you will. Now, let’s go. We have no time to waste. I’ll go on ahead and make sure there is no one around.”

With that, Lavinia exited the villa, leaving you alone with Jim.

“I can’t believe it,” you muttered. “We’re actually doing this.”

Jim grinned as he gave you a kiss on the top of your head. “We are, (Y/N). I promised that I would take you away from this wretched land. We can finally have our own new beginning and explore the lands we have not known before. It will be an adventure–one that we will have together.”

You smiled at him. With Jim, you didn’t need all the riches and all the jewels of the land. You didn’t need a picturesque villa that had a perfect view of the sunrise and sunset. You didn’t need to become the envy of all others because of the life you were given.

All you needed was James, the gladiator who stole your heart, and your entire world was complete.

#historicalauchallenge #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk imagine #jim kirk #star trek aos #my fics #fiction #reader insert #AU

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thefanficfaerie · 7 years

Text

Historical AU challenge

is due in 3.5 weeks. I already have two of them. And it sounds like @captainsbabysitter-blog and @tilltheendwilliwrite‘s are going really well. I can’t wait to read the rest of them!!!

@this-kitty-has-claws @officialheroesofolympus @daily-cup-of-writing @omg-imagine @taylorjacksonandtheolympians @travelwithwords @dontyouwishyouhadlove @annathewitch @bookcaseninja @rauliskafan @auduna-druitt @imoutofmyvulcanmind @lt-sammi-matthews @atomicpizzaandoneshots @boldlywritingtrek @writefasttalkevenfaster @captain-rogers-beard @paigeinastory @locke-writes @4theluvofall

#historicalauchallenge #yourtropegirlchallenge

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theenchantedgalleryofstories · 7 years

Photo

Ancient Rome

@rauliskafan @pinkamour1588 @auduna-druitt @captainsbabysitter-blog @randomlittleimp @viioletdelights @eyeofdionysus

#my mood boards #ancient rome #senatus populusque romanus #caesar #gladiators #historicalauchallenge #mood boards

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kaunis-sielu · 7 years

Text

The Sheriff: 6

You make it three more days without seeing him before you cave and after gathering up a few furs that you’ve collected over the last week and put them into a bag. Lucky runs through the snow happily bounding along ahead of you. You keep mostly to the rocky areas that’ll leave less of a trail but your dog has no such worries. You head to the tailors first, selling him your furs, which he’s always happy to get.

“These are smaller than usual.” Clint comments, as he checks for damage.

“I know. It’s been a rough winter for everyone.”

“Glad to see you made it through the storm.” His wife, Natasha the local tavern owner, says coming into the room. “If we knew where you were staying we could’ve come and checked on you.”

“I appreciate the concern but it’s not necessary.” You say with a smile as Clint hands you over the money that he owes you. “Pleasure doing business with you.” They’re two of the few that actually tolerate you. Mostly because you’ve been good for their business.

Next stop is the local general store. Run by a rather cynical man named Tony. His wife Virginia is much less so and has always treated you kindly. You’re crossing the street when someone calls your name. Your heart thudding in your chest you turn and see Steve making his way toward you on his horse a wide smile on his face.

“Miss me Darlin’?” He asks after dismounting his horse.

“Someone didn’t show up this weekend so I got worried.” You tell him smirking up at him.

“Schmidt and his gang have been hangin’ ‘round more than I’d like.” He admits, “Couldn’t risk leavin’.”

“I understand. I also had some pelts to sell and need some new rope before I head back.”

“Mmhmm.” He hums, his eyes teasing. He grabs your hand and pulls you between two of the buildings and into the shadows before he pins you against the side of the General Store and covers your mouth with his. God you missed him.

“Cap!” A voice yells and Steve yanks away from you like you’re on fire.

“Stay here.” He whispers before meandering out of the the alleyway. “Yea Buck?” He calls and the other man responds but you can’t hear what he says. You slip around the side of the building and run directly into an African American man with a gap toothed smile.

“Hello Darlin’. What’re ya doin’ back there?” You back away from him, wide-eyed and when you hit the wall you let out a terrified squeak. He advances on you and you throw a punch that connects with his jaw before turning back toward the main road and sprinting to where you know Steve is. You hear the other man hot on your heels as you burst out of the alleyway and into Steve’s back. One of his arms wraps back as his other hand reaches for his gun. He spins around keeping you behind him and then swears loudly.

“Damn it Sam!” That’s Sam?

“I told ya this was a bad idea!” Sam snaps glaring over at Bucky.

“We’d never meet her if we didn’t do somethin’ drastic.” Bucky says from behind you.

“You ain’t the one she punched.” Sam complains rubbing his jaw where you caught him.

“You idiots.” Steve grumbles relaxing and bring you back around to his front. “It’s okay Darlin’ these are my two deputies. Bucky and Sam. Goddamn idiots these two.”

“Hi.” You mutter, trying to slyly rub your hand from where you punched Sam. You don’t succeed as Steve gently takes your hand and checks it for any visible damage.

“We wanted to know who saved him.”

“You coulda just asked rather than scare the shit outta me.” You grumble and Steve chuckles.

“It wa’ his idea. You should punch him too.” Sam complains causing Bucky to laugh.

“You two owe me a drink. Darlin’ you want somethin’?”

“No. I should be gettin’ back. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Can I give ya a ride? At least get you some dinner first.” A ride sounds so nice, you won’t have to trek all the way back up.

“Ya think that’s a good idea Cap? With Hydra ‘round and more active since the snowstorm.”

“I’ll be fine Steve.” You assure him giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve got Lucky and my knife, I just have to go now.” You tell him. He huffs causing not only you but both Bucky and Sam to laugh.

“You better be safe. If you run into any trouble come straight back. Hydra’s been more active than I’m comfortable with.”

“I’ll be safe.” You promise and he kisses you quickly to the teasing of his two deputies. You and Lucky make the cold hike back home, you’re on high alert as you walk.

You’re grateful when you get back without any issues. Closing the cave off you get dinner ready then curling up with Lucky you fall into an exhausted sleep.

@yourtropegirl @sistasarah-sallysaidso @anyakinamidala

#captain america au #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america au imagine #imagine captain america au #imagine captain america #imagine #imagine steve rogers au #imagine steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steverogersau #steverogersimagine #steve rogers au #historicalauchallenge #bucky barnes #sam wilson

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 6 years

Text

A Painter’s Embrace*

Chapter Four

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x OFC | Word Count: 3228 Warnings: Angst, hurt, fluff, smexy bordering on smut

Constance tried not to sigh loudly in the face of Mister George Bailey. A nice enough alpha, he danced attendance along with the others, but Constance had grown weary of his company.

She'd grown weary of all their company. Grown weary of the pretense. None of these males did for her what the Colonel had for Lizzy.

And she wanted that. She wanted heat and fire. Wanted uncontrollable desire. Wanted a male who looked at her like she was everything: the beginning and the end of all things. She was not that for these men. She was a prize to be won. Nothing more.

“Jarvis.”

Her father’s beta arrived instantly at her side. “Miss?”

“I am tired, Jarvis.”

“Gentlemen.” Jarvis’s wings, a deep russet and black swept up. “The lady is retiring. I shall see you out.”

There were six males in attendance today. All of which sought her hand for their own personal reasons. In other words, they were after her fortune.

Constance wasn't stupid. She knew that was her major draw. Her last name and the fortune attached to it had become a beacon causing every alpha with even a modicum of pedigree to pant at her wing tips. But she didn't want just any alpha; she wanted her alpha.

She wanted what her parents had. She wanted what Lizzy had.

Quietly bidding her suitors farewell, Constance stood and brushed past Mister Bailey to go and look out the window. Even know she knew Lizzy was upstairs with her prospective mate, likely getting into who knew what kind of trouble.

Well, not trouble per se, but a modicum of fun Constance envied. What she wouldn't give to have an alpha sweep her off her feet. What she wouldn't do to have one stroke her wings.

She would love to get her hands on those midnight feathers or into those raven locks. Feel the rough stubble of his unshaven face against her palm. Breathe in the scent of his skin once she’d divested him of the cravat which hid his scent-

Her thoughts came to a grinding halt.

What in the world are you thinking, fool? Constance berated herself.

Lord Barnes was nothing but a rake in a uniform. He’d made his opinion of her blatantly obvious, and to let herself daydream down that folly of a road would only lead to disaster.

Still, a quiet voice inside her whispered, he has magnificent wings.

She sighed softly and stretched her own out behind her to their full extent. It had been too long since she'd taken to the sky and let the air fill her feathers.

“What? Chase them all out already?”

Constance yelped and jerked her wings in. Pain tore it's way up her shoulder, and she grabbed for it when her wing drooped toward the floor. “Was that truly necessary?” she snapped, turning to face the man most prevalent in her thoughts.

He gazed at her without comprehension. “It was only a query. Not that I care about the males you bat your eyes at.”

“Not that, you ignoramus! You startled me, and now I have pulled something in my shoulder!”

He came to attention so swiftly it gave Constance pause. His entire remember changed, going from petulant ass to concerned Alpha so quickly it left her breathless when he cleared the room in five long strides.

“Show me,” he demanded.

“I'm well able to care for myself!” she snapped defensively.

He turned eyes of silver blue to hers. “I did not say you couldn't, but an injury of any kind to the wing muscles is not something to ignore. Now show me.”

This time the demand was accompanied by a brush of Will, firm but warm, which saw her submitting before she'd fully comprehended what was happening as she turned to give him her back. Gentle prodding of a rough hand had her standing very still until he found the sore spot and she hissed in pain.

“It's a flight muscle. You're grounded for two weeks.”

Constance gritted her teeth together and stepped away from him. “I shall take your opinion under advisement, Lord Barnes.”

“It's not an opinion. It's a statement of fact. If you try and fly with that muscle acting up, you could do permanent damage!”

“And I said I would take your opinion under advisement!” she huffed. “I'm not a child, sir. I can care for myself.”

He took a step closer. “Now you listen here you little fool! I'm trying to help you!”

“By ordering me grounded?” she gasped. “Who died and made you my alpha?”

Red tinted his eyes. “Do not sass me, omega.”

Constance’s wings slowly lifted, the one drooping when her muscles gave out, but the other lifted high and spread with her anger. “Do not speak to me like that again! Alpha or not, Lord or not, you have no right to speak to me like I'm yours! Not after last night and what you said. I am not some village girl you can treat with contempt one moment and order around the next! I am a Stark, Lord of Winterborne, and you will show respect to me in my own home or I will have you tossed out on your ass. Have I made myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” he snarled. “But let me explain something to you, omega. I'm here at the behest of your father.” He stepped closer and locked his fingers around her wrist. “You can spit, and you can snarl all you like, but I'm not going anywhere until the Colonel tells me it's time to go.” The arm he had in the sling slowly pulled free of it as he backed her into the wall and closed his left hand around her throat.

He didn't squeeze but brushed his thumb over her scent gland and made her shake. Then, without warning, he laid the full weight of his Will against her.

Constance whined as her knees gave out.

“Make no mistake, my pretty omega. No one will make this Warlord Alpha leave before he's damn good and ready. Not you, not your threats about your father, nothing!” he hissed harshly, continuing to massage her throat.

“Alpha,” Constance whimpered, only for him to release her roughly and step away. She looked at him for one long, heated moment before rushing from the room, unwilling to allow her tears to fall in front of him.

It wasn't fair. Not fair at all.

She'd found him, her alpha, but he didn't want her.

***

Lizzy lay on Steve’s chest, her head pillowed over his heart. She felt… floaty, like when a strong updraft held one aloft without the need to work one’s wings.

Her dress had long ago pooled around her waist, though her stays and soft blue slip remained in place. His shirt was open to the navel, and her hand rested on warm, toned, ridiculously sculpted muscle. He liked her touch, had in fact, encouraged her to touch more; such was the reason for their scandalous lack of dress.

She smiled and rubbed her cheek on his chest. Not so scandalous, she supposed. They were courting, his offer of mating accepted, and if what Aunt Pepper had told her was true, her Aunt and Uncle’s interactions had been even more risqué during their initial encounters.

His hand had yet to leave the skin between her wings, his fingers tracing and dancing patterns on her flesh. The passionate kissing, touching, wandering of hands had pushed her farther than she was ready, but her alpha had known instantly and slowed down, bringing them to this position of comfort.

“I could sleep here,” Lizzy sighed. Never had she felt so warm or safe as she did in his arms.

He caressed her cheek, trailing his fingers down to her chin which he lifted so she could see his intense eyes. “You could if you wished it,” he offered quietly. “No one would think anything of it if you came to my bed, omega.”

Butterflies jumped in her stomach. Could she? Did she dare?

“I’m… not ready,” she whispered, looking away.

“Elizabeth Heartright,” he huffed teasingly, “I was only offering myself as your pillow. That you would imply I meant something nefarious,” he gasped and placed his hand on his chest, “I am shocked and appalled!”

She’d started to giggle long before he finished and wriggled around until her chin could rest on the back of her hand while she peered up at him. His eyes twinkled, his smile was full and genuine, and she smiled coyly. “Isn’t the Golden Devil known for his devious nature? A girl must protect her virtue from those who would seek to snatch it away, after all.”

He sat up slowly, all power and grace, forcing her thighs to part over his when he shifted their positions and laid her back on the seat. He was so gentle, tucking her wing, careful of her feathers, seeing each one lay flat and straight on the wing stuck between her body and the back of the settee. The other, he ran his fingers through, stretching it out long into the room, sending the pastel rainbows shimmering through the plumage.

Then, his began to lift, big and beautiful and golden, gleaming in the daylight streaming into the room. They went higher and higher, curved out slowly, then snapped outward, quick and sharp, cracking loudly in the silent room when the air was cut by his feathers.

Lizzy gasped, her heart pounding. He hovered over her, like a dragon who’d caught his prey, glinting fangs, red-rimmed eyes, and flexing muscle. His Will washed over her, caused her to quake and moan with the tender brushing. Heat built in her abdomen. Need hummed on the air. And when he lowered his head to lave his tongue along the edge of her stays, press beneath, and slide over the hard bud of her nipple, Lizzy growled.

“I assure you, Miss Heartright,” he rumbled, treating the other breast to the same attention, “if I wished it, I could be most nefarious. But,” he brought his mouth to the gland on the side of her throat, “I gave my word. At the Queen’s pleasure.”

His words whispered over her skin before his mouth latched down and pulled on the tender flesh. She gave a soft cry, the pleasure intense, and wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging him down until his big frame pressed against hers. She needed the weight, craved it like she craved his scent. Craved the way he made her feel. Safe. Desired. Adored. Protected.

“Alpha! Please!” she begged, her legs falling farther apart, the fabric of her dress pinned beneath his hips. A surge of heat shot through her body when his ground down, giving her only some of what she needed. Still, the pleasure was beyond what she’d yet experienced, exciting her omega, and leading her down a dangerous path when she rumbled a purr, soft and low, meant to entice and invite her alpha to continue.

He rutted against her slowly, pushing, grinding, pressing the hard length of his arousal into her, soaking her pantaloons in seconds when heat began to build there. There, where before she’d only felt pain and discomfort, aching for something she had failed to find when each heat had torn through her body.

He collected her hands one at a time, drawing them up, linking their fingers together and holding them above her head. The rumble of his purr was nearly a growl when he bit lightly at her throat, nipped and sucked and licked her skin, leaving marks behind she was certain, but Lizzy found herself unable to care.

He was calling to her base self, stoking her instincts into a raging fire. She wanted him. She lusted for him. She was desperate to release the pressure building in her belly and heard her dress tear when she jerked her knee up to feel him better.

“‘mega,” he purred and it was an avalanche falling, a cascade of boulders tumbling through her body. “Lizzy,” he whispered, soft and sweet, barely audible above her harsh breathing. “Tell me you want me.”

“Oh, gods,” she whimpered, nearly screaming when his teeth scraped her skin.

“Tell me you want me.”

“Yes!” she cried, her hands clenching in his. “But I’ve never felt…”

“I know, my sweet dove,” he purred, kissing her tenderly, still rutting, still rocking into her aching center. “I could show you pleasure unimagined, Elizabeth.” She stiffened, but he nuzzled his nose against hers. “Completely clothed, my darling. Just like this. I could give you a taste, Lizzy. A taste of what being mine would entail.”

His eyes were heavily shuttered when she managed to bring her gaze to his, but there was enough room to see the bright sky blue swimming in a sea of red.

It gave her pause for only a second before she nodded slowly, giving permission. He hadn’t tried to force her, or coax her with his Will, only waited for her agreement.

Once she gave it, he settled further into her, adding more weight, shocking her that he’d held back, to begin with. Then his wings came down, covering them completely, closing them in a haven of darkness and heat, need, desire, and excitement swiftly suffusing the air. She tasted them on her tongue, just like she could practically taste her own arousal, so thick was the moist heat between her legs.

Again he began to grind his hips into hers, rut against her, but this time there seemed to be a purpose to it as the heat built swiftly in Lizzy’s belly. Her breasts burned, ached and tingled, then his mouth was there, hot tongue stroking, teeth nipping, sneaking beneath the edge of her stays again to curl and flick and worry her nipple. Her heavy breathing eventually worked to his advantage when the flesh worked its way upward with the assistance of his mouth. His lips closed over the entire bud and pulled.

Lizzy growled, excitement pulsing with the pleasure searing her veins. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so good. Not even flying filled her with such freedom as the attention of her alpha’s mouth on her body. When his hips connected the next time a shock ran through her, driving her head back into the settee in bliss, her throat arched, nose fogged with the intensity of the scents surrounding her.

She could smell him laced through them all, musk and pine and a sharp spice like cinnamon suddenly joining the bouquet. Lizzy knew instantly it was the scent of his arousal. Hot and sexy and she lost herself in the haze of instincts pounding through her blood when she twisted one hand free of his and buried it in his golden curls to pull his head up. He moaned, deep and throaty, and she tugged further, lifting her head to latch her mouth to his throat and suck hard.

His teeth snapped together, and he snarled, his now free hand sinking into her hair to hold her to him. The rutting of his hips became frantic, pulsing in time with the beat of her heart until the tight coiling the heat in her middle had been doing snapped, and she wailed, her cry cutting off under the onslaught of his mouth swallowing her scream.

He thrust gently twice more, sending her body reeling before going still above her. He continued to kiss her though. Long, drugging kisses, pulling every ounce of pleasure out of the action he could before letting his forehead rest against hers as he sucked in air.

“Thank you, omega,” he sighed, a smile curling his lips.

A blush coated her cheeks, and Lizzy looked shyly away. “That was… incredible.”

“Come to my bed,” he coaxed, placing soft kisses on her cheek and jaw. “I can show you more. So much more, Elizabeth.”

“Steven…” she hesitated, knowing just how easy it would be to give in and mate the Warlord Alpha.

“I give you my word, my dove, as a Colonel and an Alpha, I will not mate with you until you agree to it. Until you ask me to before a heated moment happening in my bed. I would never take advantage,” he promised, truth resonating in the words.

Lizzy bit her lip, wanting to give agreement, but hesitant toward the unknown. Could she trust herself with him? Could she keep her hands to herself when all she wanted to do was submit?

A pounding on the door had his eyes flashing instantly red right before he leapt to his feet, his leg giving out before a sweep of wings steadied him. He dragged Lizzy to her feet, had her dress up and refastened in an instant, his shirt buttoned, and was striding with his cane toward the door before she’d fully registered the intrusion.

Steve wrenched the door open. “Who the bloody hell interrupts a courting…” his voice trailed off.

The distress hit her but a second later and sent Lizzy stumbling forward. “Constance?” The woman’s face crumbled, but it was the abject despair which hung on her like a cloud which broke Lizzy’s heart. “Oh, Constance! What happened?”

“He… he… he,” she tried, only to shake her head when the crying wouldn’t stop.

“She smells like…” Steve’s nostrils flared, and his brows pulled together. Then, anger coated his face, followed swiftly by rage when red ran through his eyes. “I’ll kill him.”

He was gone out the door before Lizzy could ask, slamming it loudly behind him. Constance jumped and hunched in on herself at the noise, her wings snapping down as she bawled into her hands.

Lizzy rushed forward and hugged her friend. “Whatever has happened? Constance, please! You’re scaring me!”

She looked up, her face blotchy and eyes devastated. “He’s mine. He’s mine, and he doesn’t want me.”

It took a moment for what she was saying to make sense, but when it did, Lizzy felt all the blood rush from her head. “Lord Barnes? Lord Barnes is your alpha?”

She burst back into tears and nodded.

“How? Are you sure?” Lizzy asked, leading Constance toward the settee before changing her mind and taking her to the window seat instead.

A frantic nod was all Constance could manage for a few minutes as she sobbed against Lizzy’s shoulder. Finally, after soft coos and soothing pets, she calmed enough to give a coherent answer.

“He’s not wearing a glove on his left hand. I knew it the second I smelled him. He’s mine, Lizzy… and he doesn’t want me.” Constance closed her eyes and curled in on herself, her head landing against the window pane. Her wings lay limp behind her, the picture of pain.

Lizzy stared in disbelief. It wasn’t possible. It didn’t happen. Alphas didn’t reject their omegas. Ever.

She took Constance’s hand and held it tightly between her own, silent tears now falling down her face.

Whatever were they going to do?

Next Chapter

#A painter's embrace #yourtropegirlchallenge #historicalauchallenge #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #alpha!steve #regency era #colonel rogers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #wings!fic

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the-stories-in-my-head-95 · 7 years

Text

Naxos

Tony Stark x Reader

Summary- Your fiance Theseus had left you on an uninhabited island. So your day already kinda sucked, then a god came alone and asked you to marry him, but you feeling salty towards the other sex tell him no. I mean who in their right mind would marry a complete stranger! But when he becomes less of a stranger and more of a friend will you regret saying no to his proposal?

Message- this is my submission for @yourtropegirl one year anniversary challenge! It’s loosely based on the myth of Ariadne and how she became the wife of Dionysus.

WARNINGS- Abandonment. Serious injuries.

Word Count- 1332

Men suck.

That had become pretty clear to you when you woke up on a deserted island all alone. Your fiancé- well ex-fiancé now- had used you to make slay the Minotaur and make it through the labyrinth. Theseus had promised the two of them would wed once they got back to his father’s city-state. Apparently he had lied. You sit down on the beach and start to sob, your chest hurt from the heart break you were now going through.

“Here.” A voice says as a chalice filled with wine is shoved at you. You look up and see a man with odd facial hair kneeling in front of you. “I hate seeing pretty girls cry.”

“No thank you.” You say, standing up. Then you start walking away from the man.

“I can help you.” He says appearing in front of you.

“What-what are you?” You gasp scrambling backwards, you trip on a rock and fall on your behind.

“I believe your people call me Dionysus. But I prefer Tony.”

“You’re the god of wine?” You ask incredulously.

“And the grape harvest, winemaking, fertility, theatre, ritual madness. I mean really would it kill you mortals to get it right!” Tony says.

“I am so sorry!” You say scrambling to your knees. “I meant no offence.” You had heard the legends of what gods did to those who displeased them.

“Hey none of that now.” Tony murmurs. “I know that you did not mean to offend me.” He adds moving to help you off of your knees.

“Why are you here?” You whisper, entwining your fingers with his.

“To take you as my wife.” Tony says, smiling at you.

“Excuse me?” You ask.

“We are to be wed.”

“No.” You murmur.

“Excuse me?” Tony asks.

“No! I-I don’t even know you!” You say ripping your hand from his.

“Did you know that man you were going to marry?” Tony asks folding his arms over his chest.

“Not really and look where that got me! Abandoned on an uninhabited island!” You scream. “I will not make the same mistake twice! Now leave me alone!”

“Very well, I will leave you.” Tony says looking endlessly sad, he reaches to caress your cheek but you flinch away. “If you need me, you only need to call my name.”

“I will not need you! I do not need any man!” You sneer, Tony just nods before he disappears.

***

You had been on the island for about a month when you get a visitor.

“Hello.” A soft voice says.

“Who are you?” You ask, not moving from your small hut.

“Natasha. But you most likely know me as Artemis. This is Pepper, known to mortals as Athena.”

“Why are you here?” You ask cautiously.

“To talk. We imagined being on an island alone would get rather lonely.” Pepper says.

“It’s peaceful.” You murmur.

“Why did you deny Tony?” Pepper asks. “He is kind and would be good to you.”

“I have heard those words before!” You hiss and the two goddesses sigh, looking at one another.

“Your heart was broken by a dishonest man, do not let that one bad thing be what defines the rest of your life.” Natasha says, moving to sit next to you.

“What if I trust him a-and he abandons me!”

“But what if he doesn’t. What if the two of you fall in love and live happily. Wouldn’t that be worth the risk?” Natasha asks and you just shrug your shoulders. The two of them stay with you until the sun starts to rise, and then they disappear, leaving promises of their return. You spend the day thinking about what they said, what if they were correct? You decide to push the thought to the back of your mind.

A great storm hits your island about a week after the two goddesses visit, ravaging everything you had worked so long to build, is destroyed. You feel your leg and arm break with the wind pushes you into a cluster of rocks. Your vision fades to black. You regain consciousness after the storm passes. You try to move but everything hurts.

“Tony.” You sob. He appears almost instantly.

“Y/N! What happened?” Tony says frantically, as he rushes to your side.

“Storm.” You slur. Then you start coughing, you can taste blood on your tongue.

“Clint! Clint! I need you!” Tony screams, tears in his eyes as he whips the blood off of your lips. Your vision fades to black before anything else happens.

***

You wake up feeling better than before, still sore but better. You look around and see Tony sitting in the corner of your newly rebuilt hut.

“Thank you.” You murmur.

“This was my fault! Don’t thank me! I-I should have brought you back to your fathers palace after you said no to my proposal!” Tony says.

“I like my island.”

“It’s actually my island.” Tony murmurs, blushing. “It is where those who worship me will soon settle, a temple will be built.

“Maybe we can share.” You say smiling.

“I’d like that.” Tony murmurs. Then you go to sit up, but you realize that it was a bad idea. “You still need rest, Clint could only do so much.”

“Clint?” You ask.

“Apollo.” Tony answers.

“Thank you for rebuilding my home.” You say.

“Yes, well you will need it, if you intend to stay. You will be bed bound for quite some time. So if it is all right with you, I’ll stay to help you recover.” Tony says.

“I’d like that.” You murmur and Tony gives you a small smile.

***

Tony ends up staying with you way longer than necessary- not that you minded as you found yourself falling deeply in love with him. But since his re-arrival Tony had not made one advancement towards you. He has not made mention of marriage or love, or anything even remotely related to it.

“Why did you want to marry me?” You ask one day.

“You’re lovely.” Tony answers simply. “And brave, and smart and kind. What you did, showing Theseus the way through the labyrinth was cleaver enough to catch the attention of us gods on Mount Olympus. Why wouldn’t I have wanted to marry you?” Your heart hurts at the tense of which he speaks of his desire to marry you.

“I’m mortal.” You say simply. “Why marry someone who will die in a couple decades? Why go through that pain?”

“You would have been made into a goddess if you had agreed to marry me.” Tony says, frowning a bit.

“Oh.” Is all you have to say.

***

You jolt awake from a nightmare. You start sobbing hysterically and Tony is by your side in an instant.

“Are you in pain? What is happening?” Tony says frantically.

“I-I had a horrendous dream.” You whimper as Tony takes you into your arms. His hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“Tell me about it.” Tony whispers.

“Theseus did not abandon me. H-He married me to gain my father’s favor. T-then h-he…” You dissolve into more frantic sobs.

“That did not happen. It is alright. I’m hear.” Tony says in an attempt to soothe you.

“I-I think the worst part was I never met you. I never grew to love you, you were a stranger, someone locked in the cell next to mine.” You whimper. You hear Tony’s breathe hitch and you realize your mistake.

“Y-You love me.” Tony asks and you stiffen in his arms.

“If I did what would happen?” You ask cautiously.

“I would ask you to marry me once more.” Tony whispers, before kissing your hand. “Then if you said yes, I would take you to Olympus where we would be married and live out eternity as husband and wife.”

“I love you.” You murmur, and Tony’s smile gets wider, because he knows that you are accepting his proposal.

“As I love you.” Tony says before leaning down so his lips can graze yours.

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