#yourtropegirlchallenge

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

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

[thesoftdumbass]

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!

[fatbottombucky]

Do Not Win On Luck*Steve Rogers x Reader*

Summary: Historical AU Challenge- Gladiators  Warnings: None Pairings: Steve x Reader Word count: 557 A/N: Part of @yourtropegirl writing challenge, hopefully, this lives up to standard. I wrote this around three weeks ago, I think, it’s bad but I didn’t have the time to change it! Sorry. This has actually inspired a totally unrelated Roman AU series that I wanna write but have to wait till I have finished my other series lol - Rosalie

You watched intently as steel met spear, the preparations for tomorrow’s entertainment was unfolding before you. Sparks flying from both weapons and falling to the sand at their feet. Your heart momentarily picks up in speed as you watch the two battle, unyielding and so interesting.

You had never been a fan of the games, it was completely brutal and beyond violent. Your father Emperor had always loved the games, although never taking part, he loved to sit and watch the Gladiators fight for their freedom- which would never come to them anyway. Something about the training before you had enticed you to stop, you usually came to visit the slaves the night before; it had become a ritual that your mother did, now you alone since your sister refused to step foot near the Gladiators.

The Gladiator that caught your eye stood tall. His hard body radiates a glow in the Roman sun, he looked as though he was carved and hand sculpted by the Gods themselves. His broad shoulders and defined waist, strong arms and legs, he was fearfully intimidating but his bright blue eyes and an amused smile made your heart flutter briefly.

“Ah, Y/N, little dove, you’ve come to watch the sparring?” The summa radis grins, you smiled at the old friend of your father, Alexander. He had been a Gladiator in his own youth, only now he is retired from the fighting to make sure each match is equally fought right.

“I’ve come to see the entertainment, my father sent me to spy.” You give a small smile as he calls the Gladiators to stop, “no, please, continue. I merely come to watch and send good luck,” you speak to the Gladiators more so than Alexander.

The slightly shorter one with long, dark hair scoffs in your direction. His reaction doesn’t bother you, you’re used to the Gladiators and most slaves treating you with abandon. Some even taking your niceness as pity, which you didn’t intend but they received it as such and you didn’t try to make them see otherwise.

“Thank you, but I and James do not win on luck.” His smile is even kinder than you expected it to be, his eyes shining and lighting up with it as they wandered over your stola; a blush crept up on your cheeks, the light blue silk, your jewels catching the sun and sparkling.

“They’re the best Gladiators, I am surprised they haven’t shown their skill to your father sooner.” Alexander interjects to you, you nod once eyes still on the Gladiator before you and his on you. You turn slightly when Alexander is called away to deal with another sparring pair, your cheeks heating up when you’re left with two Gladiators and your handmaid.

There’s a moment of silence between you. “Will you be watching tomorrow?” You glance up and nod, he’s giving you that smile again and you feel slightly weak from it, that or it’s the blazing heat of the sun. “I guess I’ll have to impress more than just the Emperor tomorrow,” your breath hitches slightly and you nod silently.

“What’s your name?” You enquire confidently, “So, I know what name to cheer for tomorrow.”

“Steven.”

You smile brightly, stepping up to him and tilting your head slightly. “I hope you win tomorrow, it’d be nice to see you at the winning feast.”

(I didn’t know how to finish it, I was gonna rewrite it but I have been really uninspired lately, I know this is bad. I am so sorry, wish it could have been better. - Rosalie)

[themaliciousravioli]

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

[commander-writergirl]

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.

[boldlywritingtrek]

What We’re Fighting For: Part 1

Kirk x Female Reader

Warnings: None really, maybe just dumb gender shit from early America? Idk it’s not super realistic so if you’re a history buff you’ll probably hate me. 

A/N: Yikes, sorry, this is a hella late entry for @yourtropegirl‘s historical AU challenge. It’s been a wild ride trying to write this, it started in a totally different direction, and then I just ended up cutting the first part and whoops it’s a multi-chapter fic now. It’s my first attempt at any AU writing, so I hope you like it!

Words: 1,916

Summary: After British soldiers sweep through, taking horses and supplies from your family’s home, a company of American rebels comes to your defense. Taking wounds in the battle, your family offers them a safe place to recover, and their dashing commander takes a special interest in you. 

“Captain Kirk?” You spoke softly. He continued to rock, his gaze fixed on the horizon.      

“Y/N, I thought I asked you to dispense with the formalities.”     

 "Mr. Kirk, I–“     

 "No, I mean…” he sighed. “Never mind.” His gaze wavered finally, slipping down to the porch floor, then up to meet yours. Once again you found your breath caught in your throat when the full intensity of his piercing blue stare was turned on you.     

 "James,“ you whispered. His lips quirked up into a small smile. You stepped closer to him, and this time he didn’t recoil. One hand released the death grip he had on the arm of the rocking chair, and turned upwards for yours. You gently set your palm over his, and he wrapped his fingers around yours and pulled your hand to gently kiss the back of it. You felt your face heat and fought the urge to clear your throat. “Why don’t you come inside, let me take care of that wound?” He glanced down, as if seeing the slice in his side for the first time.     

 "Are all my men taken care of?“ He shifted finally, turning his body towards yours so that his knees brushed against your skirts. His hand tightened involuntarily around yours, and you knew he was in terrible pain at the movement.     

 "Yes sir. Many of them are resting comfortably now, and only time will tell how they fare with their wounds. Those who survive the next night will likely recover.” He nodded slowly, processing. “Come inside. You’re already hurt, you’ll catch cold sitting out here.”      

He smiled, a hint of the twinkle sparking in his eyes. “I can handle a little chill, miss Y/L/N.” He dropped your hand as he stood, then gestured stiffly. “After you.”      

Lifting your skirts you stepped over the threshold to the house. Some of the other girls had come from town to help turn your home into a makeshift hospital, and they hurried between the rows of young men lying in various states of disarray on the floor. Bowls of water sat beside heaps of bloody rags as dressings were changed, and you saw Kirk hesitate as he cast his gaze around at the wounded men. For all the reservations and nervousness you had seen from him, he was a caring commander who was well-loved by his troops. In that moment he looked almost boyish; for a man who’d been skirmishing against the Crown for close to three years, he didn’t have the grizzled serious look you’d expect of colonial fighters.     

 As you lead him to the sitting room, you half-wondered how he’d come to be in command of his rag-tag crew; many of the men were so clearly older than him, more level-headed–and yet this charmingly reckless man was in charge. You gave him the courtesy of an empty room to look at his injury, to save face. He quickly doffed his jacket and the bloodied shirt beneath it. You knelt on the ground beside him, your focus on cleaning the dirt out of his cut. He stared through the doors, watching the movements of his men and the caretakers. His lips were pressed tightly together, his face pale. You took a deep breath, sitting back on your heels. “I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through,” you start. He immediately looks down at you. “But I want you to know that I care, and you aren’t alone.”    

  "Y/N!“ Your uncle steps into the room, his black bag clutched in his hand. "Tell me what’s going on with Mr. Kirk here?” He settled down beside you, adjusting his glasses and peering at the wound.      

“Glancing blow by a bayonet, uncle. I’ve already cleaned the fabric from his shirt out, and most of the dirt.” He examines your work with critical eyes, then seems to remember his manners.      He takes a step back, extending one hand to the Captain. “Name’s Dr. McCoy, I’m the local physician. Came out here as a favor to my sister, when she said she had a company of wounded Americans here. My nieces are capable women, but an extra set of hands never hurt anything.” He turned back to you when he released Kirk’s hand. “You’re doing well, Y/N. Clean it, wrap it, and make sure he eats something; the man’s whiter than a sheet.” You nod your understanding, and your uncle moves on to other patients.    

  "Hell of a bedside manner,“ James mused, and you let out a short peal of laughter.     

 "I’d be cross too, if I had to come all the way out here to look at a bunch of patients that my sister and her children had already treated just fine.” He was grinning when you glanced up at his face, but you scrubbed the cloth over his side again and he grunted and clenched his jaw.     

 "You didn’t have to come back here, you know. They wouldn’t have hurt us.“       

Darkness passed across his face, and he looked away. "You don’t know what they’re capable of, Y/N. Your family helped us, gave us shelter, and for that they can take your home from you? What kind of a life is that?” He huffed a heavy sigh out as you wound a bandage carefully around his ribs. You focused on smoothing the creases of the linen down, leaving a faint red smudge in the wake of your bloodstained fingers. He reached out hesitantly, as if to put a hand on your shoulder, then drew it back. “If we can’t take care of our own, what are we even fighting for?”      

His words and the melancholy in his voice tugged at your heart, and you wished you had the words to comfort him. Wished you could smooth the wrinkles in his forehead with your fingertips. Instead, you took his proffered hand and rose to your feet beside him. “Mr. Kirk,” you said gently, tilting your head to the side. “Why are you fighting?”       

You could see that he was trying to figure out a good response to save face. He sucked in a deep breath and turned those bright eyes on you, scrunching his face up. He was saved from having to answer your question when his name was called in the next room. He grabbed his shirt and practically ran from the room, leaving you to wipe your hands on the blood-spattered apron over your skirts and wonder if you’d ever really know his story. 

     The company stayed several days in your family home, recovering and regrouping. You found yourself speaking with the Captain every morning, sitting outside in the cool morning air with a quilt pulled tightly around your shoulders. Your sisters had begun to take notice, and tease you about your quick infatuation with the man. He was quiet and charming, and had a sharp mind behind the military bravado. Things had settled into a comfortable routine by the fourth day, and your house felt full of more warmth than it had since your eldest brother had been killed the year before.       

 On the sixth day of the soldiers being there, James didn’t join you on the front porch in the morning. After waiting for a while, you got up to go and find him, missing your daily conversation partner. Your father and the Captain both quit talking abruptly when you passed through the sitting room. Unable to resist temptation, you paused. Your father took his glasses off and carefully polished them on the hem of his shirt. “Can we help you, Y/N?” He looked weary. Kirk’s face was unreadable, but he chewed his lip lightly as he watched you wring your hands in front of you.      

 "I’m just wondering, pa… What’s going on? Uncle had us packing up some bandages, and–“      "It’s nothing for you to worry about, darling, we’re just sending the boys away with some supplies.” He turned back to Kirk, and you took it as your cue to leave. Your stomach twisted strangely as you stepped back out into the hallway, and headed towards the front porch. Of course they were leaving again; they’d been there a handful of days, long enough to recover, and they had to move on. You knew virtually nothing about any of them, least of all James, but your heart felt strangely empty at the prospect of losing his company.       

You were watching the clouds roll by in the wide blue sky, leaning back against the wall beside the door. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw James step outside. He folded his hands carefully behind his back as he approached you, his usual slight smile missing from the corner of his lips. “Good morning, James,” you smiled, turning towards him.       

He ducked his head, pink tinging his cheekbones. “I’m sorry I didn’t join you this morning, I was tending to preparations.”     

 "I hadn’t realized you were leaving today, Captain.“       

"Well,” he smirked. The bravado was back. “We can’t spend the entire war here.” You felt your face fall, and didn’t try to stop it. Instantly he sobered. “Your father told me what happened.” He stepped forwards. “I hadn’t realized, I’m sorry. I hope our presence didn’t bring up any memories.”      

 "No, of course not. I’ve just grown to enjoy you–our conversations.“ You stopped yourself, and felt your face heating in embarrassment. There was no reason to feel the way you did about him, already. It was absolutely absurd; he was a kind, brave man, who was simply showing you kindness.     

  He reached out and lifted your hand from where it was fisted against your skirts. "I will miss you.” He said, plainly. His face was open and earnest, but his eyes were guarded. “I would like to write you, if you’re…if you’d…” he rubbed his free hand on the back of his neck, and you felt his fingers trembling in yours.      

 You felt your face break out into a smile. “Are you nervous, Captain?”      

 "Of course I am,“ he spluttered. "And I don’t know if letter carriers will be reliable at all, but I’d like to try.” He peered at you from under thick eyelashes, and you finally squeezed his hand back.      

 "I’d like that.“ His face instantly brightened. "I was worried you’d just leave without ever saying a thing to me.”       

“Of course not.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.” You stood there together, in a moment of unusual calm, and you hoped dearly that you could continue to correspond.     

 "Captain,“ a young man with curly hair and bright eyes poked his head out the doorway. "Could use your help in here, sir!”       

“I’ll be right there,” he nodded briskly. When the boy disappeared, he turned back to meet your eyes again. “I’ll be seeing you again, Y/N.” He brushed his lips lightly to the back of your hand, then slowly backed away and disappeared through the doorway.       

[thefanficfaerie]

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 

[the-stories-in-my-head-95]

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.  

Permanent Tag List- @spideytrxsh @helgahuffelpuff @just-another-teen01 @iamwarrenspeace  @thevillainway @thekayceenicole @loneliestlittlerainbow @jenniegs @queenrhae666  @thedoctorscamanion @loveisfriendship @kanupps06 @-fuck-you-world- @mymourningtea @sydsmut @dragolena @cassiopeia-barrow @marvels-ghost @lilylovelyxo @okayputta  @batmanzplan @cuddlefish85 @loverbug1123 @pbandj14 @itsintothegreatbeyondstuff @princessleah5684 @loveideserve @courtneychicken @pleasantdreamqueen @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 @mylifeisbeingconsumedbypineapple @sai-kida134 

Marvel Tag List- @tabziecat  @i-love-superhero @i-hate-the-pie-people @i-just-wanna-run-hell  @theoutlinez @huntermichelle @tonystarkismyboy @asexualmarauder @learisa @cutie1365 @lara-ludbey @mymarvelobsessions @bluesnowyangel @xclo02 @msmaximoff @bestillmystuckyheart @kitkatgaming @ravenclaw-fangirl-7

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

A Painter’s Embrace

Chapter Three

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x OFC  | Word Count: 5143 Warnings: Smexy and feels

Constance smiled smugly at Lizzy when she and the Colonel rejoined their friends. The redhead was quick to seize Lizzy’s arm and drag her off for a stroll around the pond, giggling and teasing quietly about how she smelled of pine and warm musk and asking just what had Lizzy been up to among the hedge roses with the clearly smitten alpha.

Lizzy could only blush, unwilling to describe the sweet, final moment among the flowers when Steven had taken her in his arms and kissed her breathless. Their wings touching in an intimate embrace. How his hands had held her so very tightly but had been so gentle when the tips had trailed down the bare skin between her wings and made her shiver. He’d marked her with his scent, a clear claim to any with the nose to smell it by repeating the same action as Davenport, but with a much more pleasing outcome.

She’d clung to him when his lips and teeth had worshiped her skin as if there was no greater taste to be had than that of her flesh. The soft growls and rumbles of pleasure from his throat had set her sighing and quaking, willing to do anything he asked as long as he never stopped touching her.

Unfortunately, he had to stop, take a step back, and regain the composure he’d lost as well as clear his nose of the scent of her arousal. But the way he’d looked at her, a male starving for one more kiss, one more touch, had prompted a shiver of want to streak her spine.

No, Lizzy would not make him chase her for long. Not long at all.

Pepper and Tony landed shortly thereafter. The woman Lizzy considered her surrogate mother gave a knowing smile, while her Uncle shot a glare at the man who’d so thoroughly saturated her in his scent.

“A chaperone is meant to keep an eye on things, Constance,” he grumbled, turning the glare on his daughter.

“Oh, hush, Tony,” Pepper scolded. “If the Colonel isn’t Lizzy’s one, I will eat your hat.”

“If you’re hungry, darling, there is food in the house. No need to eat felt,” he quipped as he stepped forward and collected Lizzy’s hand to his arm. “Elizabeth and I are going to take a walk and have a private discussion.”

Pepper rolled her eyes while Constance sighed, and Lizzy glanced back in time to see Steve’s demeanour change to one of wings lifted in warning. His fists clenched as her Uncle led her away. Lord Barnes wrapped his hand around Steve’s wrist, a single point of contact to keep him calm. It appeared to be working.

“Uncle?” Lizzy asked softly once they were away from the others.

“Your father left me a letter with his will, you know,” he said, gazing into the distance.

“You never told me that,” Lizzy murmured.

“He bid me watch over you as if you were my own hatchling, and I think, for the most part, I have.”

“You’ve done an excellent job,” she agreed, tilting her head to his shoulder and finding comfort in the wrap of his wing around her smaller frame. The gentle brush of his Will was a warmth she fell into easily, and she tightened the hold she had on his arm. “I love you, Uncle Tony.”

He chuckled softly, leaned closer, and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I feel for you no different than I do Constance, Lizzy. I only want what’s best for you. Are you sure a Warlord Alpha is it?”

“Aunt Pepper is correct. He’s my alpha. His scent is… what I’ve waited for, for so long.”

“After eleven years of your stubbornness and strong opinion, I won’t bother to ask if you’re certain. I know you know your own mind, Elizabeth. He informed me quite formally he would be courting you. I can see now why he felt the need.” Tony came to a stop and turned, his wings thoroughly blocking them from view. “You lead from here, omega at your pace and in your time. You can wed if you choose, or take him as mate first. Either is acceptable.”

She flushed red, embarrassed by his candour but pleased at his acceptance and support. “Thank you, Uncle, but I think… a little more time to get to know one another would be best.”

He cupped her face and tilted it up. “He is your alpha and a Warlord one at that. His instincts will be strong with you, Lizzy. Be careful around other males. I will have Jarvis inform your callers that you are entertaining a mating offer and will no longer be receiving them but Constance will.”

“I will be careful,” she promised. The last thing they needed was an overzealous suitor turning his attention to her when she was finalizing her agreement with the Colonel. Such a thing could end with blood on the floor, and no one wanted that.

“Excellent. We will see you and the Colonel are given adequate time together while he remains in residence.” Tony’s wings swept back, revealing the two of them to the onlookers.

When Lizzy looked up, her gaze connected with Steve who had slipped away from the others to stand alone a few feet apart, he lifted his chin and straightened to his full height. His Will flowed forth; his shoulders appeared to grow wider as he took in a breath and let his wings unfurl behind him. The mass of golden feathers seemed to stretch on forever, and Lizzy gave a quiet little growl at the enticement.

Tony chuckled softly, though his scent carried notes of happy, sad, sentimental in it.

Lizzy squeezed his forearm before he could move, pulling his attention back down to her. “Thank you, Uncle Tony. For everything. For eleven years you’ve kept me safe and treated me with kindness and love. I could never have asked for a better alpha after my father’s passing. You and Aunt Pepper have been the pair I wish to fashion my mating after. You’ve set a very strong example.” Moisture dampened his eyes as she lifted up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

Clearing his throat, Tony escorted her over to the Colonel. “It appears, Colonel, that my niece is inclined toward your company. Your formal offer of courtship is accepted.” Removing Lizzy’s hand from his arm, Tony offered it to Steve. “What happens from here is at the Queen’s discretion.”

It was a warning from the alpha who considered himself her father to the one who sought to steal her away. Tony would not let Steve push Lizzy into anything she was not ready for. Steve would wait for her to give her consent before anything further happened.

The reality of things was, if the Colonel so wished it, there was nothing her Uncle could do to stop him. Steve’s Will as a Warlord Alpha would far outweigh anything Tony could produce, and if he wanted to, he could just take Lizzy as his own at any time. But this was a sign of respect between the two alphas and for her as his potential mate. It would be dishonourable of the Colonel if he disagreed or broke his word once given.

“My Queen,” Steve murmured as he lifted her knuckles to his lips, an action which caused flutters to form in her belly every time. “I await your pleasure.” A tint of red highlighted his eyes. “I ask only that you do not attend another male who is not of this weyr alone. If you should need to be in the presence of others, it is with me at your elbow or Lord Barnes at your back.”

“I am agreeable to that, my lord,” Lizzy sighed and smiled when Steve did.

“Good, great, all done.” Tony clapped his hands together. “Now, Rogers, let’s collect Barnes and get some work done.”

“Tony!” Pepper huffed. “You can wait till after luncheon!”

“Oh… that’s,” Lizzy blushed and looked up at Steve. “We can, we can… later.”

“There, see? All settled.” Tony turned on his heel and leapt into the air, winging his way back toward the house.

Steve rumbled out a soft growl of irritation before his wings snapped around Lizzy, drawing her in and hiding them both from the watchful eyes of her family. “I would rather be spending my time with you, omega.” His hands walked the curves of her waist and hips, touching and claiming as he pulled her in tight to his chest. “Would that I could wallow in your scent, in your touch, in your warmth. I would drown in it. Bury myself in this lush fragrance. How sweet you smell. How delectable,” he whispered as he nudged and nuzzled his nose over her throat and chest.

His arousal was evident in the press of his hardness against her belly, and Lizzy clutched at his coat when his scent saturated her nose with the fragrance of pine and warm musk. Emotions clouded the air, everything from happy, need, and nerves flowed around them both. Both eager to learn and explore the other but lacking the time.

Lizzy extended her wrist and dragged her bare skin over the shoulder of his jacket, leaving behind a clear scent mark. Another deep rumble, one of granite and stone sliding together came from his chest when Steve’s teeth gently scraped the skin of her throat. His hands skimmed her ribcage and up to stroke through the soft, downy feathers on the underside of her wings where they joined her back.

A sigh of quiet pleasure escaped Lizzy’s lips. “Steven,” she moaned.

“Say it again,” he whispered in her ear.

“Steven,” she said with a sigh. “My alpha.”

“Precious omega. How sweet you sound.” He tucked his nose into her throat and inhaled deeply. “To tide me over until we can next be together.” Then, he took her mouth in a kiss which saw her melting into him, her body limp and pliant, her wings relaxing until they lay on the ground around their feet.

When he finally broke the kiss, it was to rest his forehead on hers for but a moment before he stepped back, swept his wings up and leapt away with Barnes hot on his primaries. There had been a look of pain on his face and unhappiness had washed against her omega with his leaving.

Pepper fluttered closer and took Lizzy’s hands as she watched the golden alpha fly away. “Oh, darling…” she sighed and smiled. “How wonderful for you.”

“A magnificent alpha,” Constance agreed.

Lizzy looked at her friend, and though her smile was bright, there was a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. She took Constance’s hand and squeezed it tightly, offering what comfort she could without saying a word.

“Come, Elizabeth,” Pepper coaxed, “There are things to discuss and preparations to be made. We’ll use your library for your private conversations with the Colonel.”

***

Lizzy waited nervously, her fingers twisted together in her lap, for her afternoon appointment with the Colonel. There was a fragrant pot of tea sitting on the rolling tray to her right, small finger sandwiches and petit confectionaries on fancy plates just waiting to be tasted. If her stomach wasn’t rolling with twelve different kinds of butterflies, she would have already filtched one of the lemon squares.

The men had missed luncheon, not surprising when it came to her Uncle. He often forgot to eat when he was inventing, but that his guests had also failed to appear had been disheartening and had caused Lizzy’s nerves to spiral rapidly out of control.

She’d tried reading, but her mind was too full of blue eyes and golden feathers and had given up within minutes when the book had fallen from her lap for the second time. Now, she sat on her favourite settee and watched the clouds through the big picture window float across the sky.

When the door opened and closed, she glanced up and blushed as she drew a wing forward and around to fidget with her feathers. “Colonel,” she said quietly.

“What happened to Steven, omega?” he asked, his smile gentle as he crossed the room and slowly removed his jacket.

“You missed luncheon,” she murmured and looked away. “Can I offer you tea or something to eat? You must certainly be hungry.”

“Elizabeth?” he frowned and inhaled deeply. The smile returned as he set his jacket on the arm of the sofa, but instead of sitting at her side, he knelt to the floor at her feet. “Sweet omega, there’s no need to be nervous.”

The comforting brush of warm Will washed over her like a heavy blanket, surrounding her in reassurance. Lizzy closed her eyes, all the muscles in her body relaxing under his care. A warm hand touched her cheek. Tender fingers traced the curve and down along her jaw to cup her chin. Then, soft lips pressed against hers and Lizzy sighed into his mouth. The kiss stayed gentle, nothing more than a simple brush of lips until Lizzy’s wings relaxed, then Steve lifted his head.

“Ah, there’s my Queen.” He smiled widely and skimmed his knuckles over her cheek. “Better?” She gave a small nod. “And what had you so nervous, my darling Lizzy?”

“Aunt Pepper was rather… um… descriptive about… about what to expect, and I’m…” she trailed off, wondering if her face was as red as it felt.

He growled softly, the sound full of annoyance before both his hands came up to hold her warm face. “Omega,” he purred, and the rumble of it seemed to vibrate through her body.

“Yes, alpha?” she whispered, her fingers tangling together again in her lap.

“From now on, if you have questions regarding what is expected of our time together, you will ask me.”

Lizzy lifted her gaze to his and found red tinting his eyes. “Are you upset with her?”

His hands shifted to her shoulders and out to lightly stroke the edge of her wing. “No, sweet omega. Not upset. But how we proceed from here, including what… liberties you wish to extend me are for you and I to decide, not for your aunt to pressure you into.”

“Oh! I did not mean to imply she had spoken out of turn.” Lizzy shook her head, never wanting him to think poorly of Pepper. “It is just… female things.” She ducked her chin. “Things my mother would have… educated me about and it… I… she…”

***

Steve chuckled softly and returned to his feet to step toward the tea service. “I see. Tea?” he asked, but Lizzy’s eyes had been caught by the sweep of golden feathers hanging down his back.

Steve’s smile went unnoticed as he flicked his wings backward, pretending to shake them out and brushed the tips of his primaries against her shin. Her hand reached out, then pulled back as if she feared she’d be scolded if she gave into temptation. But he wanted her to touch him whenever she wished and sent out a gentle, coaxing brush of Will to encourage her to do so.

Again her hand lifted, drifted forward as if in a trance, and gloveless fingers skimmed his feathers. The touch of her hand was just as potent as the first time, and he had to dig deep to contain himself.

Her emotions hummed against his alpha, soft ones of intrigue, attraction, and just the barest hint of desire. His nose was full of her sweet scent; a scent made all the stronger because of their location.

The library full of books was heavily saturated with her beautiful aroma. It filled his head, making it difficult to think beyond returning his mouth to her soft skin, but he held it together and poured the tea.

“Tea?” he purred a second time, smiling over his shoulder at her.

“Hm? Oh, yes. Thank you,” she murmured, slowly pulling her hand from his feathers. “Clearly, you’re not superstitious.”

“Sugar?”

“Lemon,” she sighed, continuing to gaze at his wings.

Steve added a slice of citrus, turned, and handed her the delicate saucer and cup. “Why do you say that?” She smiled and shifted toward him when he seated himself on her settee, shaking his wings out, so they flowed off the edge of the seat behind him.

“There is an old wives tale that if someone besides the hostess of a house pours the tea, then the hostess will find herself in need of a nest for her forthcoming hatchling.” She sipped her tea and eyed him over the rim.

The idea of bedding his sweet omega to plant said hatchling had Steve’s alpha surging so strongly his wings rippled, and he had to catch himself before he snapped the cup in his hand. “I am afraid I was not familiar with such a thing,” he murmured.

“I assumed. Will you tell me about yourself, Colonel?” she asked, finally relaxing.

“Steve,” he rumbled. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything,” she chuckled. “Tell me about you. Your lands, your hobbies. What do you do when you’re not flying off to save the world.”

Steve set his tea down on the table situated at the back of the settee. “My lands are not so different from these, though my weyr is… slightly larger. Three betas stay with us, Barnes and I. A few omegas for whom we offer protection. Barnes raises dogs, hounds really, sleek ones who can run and keep up with us over long flights. And I’ve already told you of my landed and the terrible state of my garden,” he chuckled softly.

“If the Lieutenant raises dogs as his hobby, what do you do… Steven?”

She looked at him with her earnest grey eyes, and his heart melted. “I paint,” he said softly.

“Really?” Her eyes widened and sparkled, and she sat forward, her cup joining his. “What kind? Oils? Watercolours?”

“Both.” Her lack of scorn shouldn’t have surprised him, but when she jumped up excitedly and rushed across the room to leap a few rungs up a well-used ladder and pluck a hefty book from a high shelf, he found himself intrigued.

She stepped nimbly off the ladder, her wings sweeping up to steady her as she floated like a feather to the floor. It was an action she was confident in, for she did it without looking and without knocking anything over, returning to him with the book held tight to her chest. “While I’m no William Blake, and I cannot needlepoint to save my life, I do… dabble a bit in watercolours.”

It was then Steve realized her book was a leather-wrapped journal, loose pages sticking out at the top, and tied with a leather thong. “Might I see them?” he asked, curious to access her skill.

She clutched the book all the tighter. “They’re just… just nothing special.”

Uncertainty filled his nose. Steve stood slowly when she paused a few feet away, appearing to rethink her offer to share her talents. “I would love to see them, little dove if you are inclined to share.”

Again he sent his Will to coax her to his purpose. It mattered not if she drew stick people or had a horrible eye for colour. They shared an interest, and he would see it nurtured.

She bit her lip, an action he wished to mimic, and slowly held out the book. When he took it from her, she was quick to turn away, her hands closing over her elbows as she paced over to stare out the window.

Even at a distance, he could hear her heart pound. Needing to reassure her, his alpha practically howling at him to go after his upset omega, Steve swiftly unwrapped the journal and flipped open the cover only to freeze.

They were stunning, and he flipped through the thicker pages, staring in awe at her abilities. Exquisite, some appearing as nothing more than a wash of muted colours over the page, entire landscapes were done in a monotone of colour like a drizzly English spring, grey and dreary, while others were vibrant, detailed, and as colourful as a rainbow. He couldn’t believe she kept them hidden away in her library like something to be ashamed of.

Steve set the book down and made his way over to where she stood, tense and waiting. When he stepped into her spine, he slipped his arms beneath her wings and around her waist, so she didn’t feel trapped, but also couldn’t escape when he brought his mouth to her scent gland and licked it slowly. “You are a very talented artist, Elizabeth. You should share it, not hide it away.”

“It’s… it’s only a hobby,” she whispered.

“It is a beautiful hobby,” he crooned and nuzzled against her ear. “May I have one?”

“Which… which one?” she sighed, tilting her head for him.

It was an inherently submissive act which had Steve releasing a quiet purr as he lapped at her throat. “The one with the boat and the cliffs. It is stunning. You can nearly hear the wind blow.”

“If… if you want it.” Her hands landed lightly on his. “Alpha,” she whispered.

The word drove a spike through his loins, and he rumbled a continual purr. It wasn’t the same as a house cat, more a deep growl, a tumbling sound of boulders and granite rolling together. “Tell me, omega. What do you need?”

Her scent was spiking as it had earlier in the garden, filling with need, desire, want. She smelled like her roses with the tiniest hint of paper and ink, as if the scent of her library had soaked into her very essence as she had saturated every inch of her sacred space. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever smelled and couldn’t seem to get enough of it now that he’d had it fill his nose. Mixed with the rising scent of her arousal, Steve could feel himself salivate.

“I… I don’t know,” she whimpered, panting softly.

He drew his arms away slowly, letting his palms graze her sides and trace up her spine to the skin laid bare between her wings. The soft down tickled his fingers and shimmered with the same iridescence as the underside of her feathers. Her skin was like silk, softer than the down of her feathers. So smooth beneath his fingertips he had to stroke it twice. “Have I told you how beautiful I think your wings are?” he murmured, not expecting an answer and continued when one wasn’t forthcoming. “I saw you first across the room last night because of them. They are such a pure white, like the clouds floating outside this window, or the petals of one of your fragrant roses. They drew my eye to you, my stunning dove, and I felt my breath catch. You were exquisite, and nothing would have stopped me finding and speaking with you. Then, to find you in such a precarious state,” a quiet growl escaped him, and he clenched his fist to contain his anger at an alpha, any alpha, harassing his omega, “enraged me. But even then, my first thought was, “I wonder if she’d let me paint her?” I’m not even sure I can reproduce the rainbow shimmering on the inside of your wings, but I would love to try, sweet omega.”

He’d bent as he spoke, seducing her with words and gentle pets, tender touches to the down and small feathers at the base of her wings until his breath caused the down to ruffle right before he pressed his lips to her spine.

The sound this produced was something between a moan and growl. Her hand snapped up to hold onto the edge of the window when she shook from the onslaught of sensation rushing through her body, causing her scent to blossom like a flower. Her wings spread open, and the glory of her silver tipped primaries dragged along the floor as they stretched to their full extent.

She didn’t lift them from the ground, just presented them for him in another act of quiet submission. Done without fear, without hesitation, Steve was stunned by the trust she showed him, the ease with which she gave of her affections, and gave his back in kind.

He sank his fingers into her feathers slowly, gently, letting them thread through so the pleasure she would feel at the touch would stretch on and on. At the same time, he curled his wings forward until they matched hers curve for curve, and feather for feather in a sensual, seductive caress.

“Steven,” she moaned.

He closed his eyes, wallowing in her scent, soaking in it until he felt as if it was all he could breathe. He pressed another kiss to the space between her wings, and another, and another, travelling up the length of her spine until the button tie of her dress got in his way. He nipped it with his teeth, but before he could ask, she was already reaching up to release the button.

Her dress slipped down her shoulders, but she caught it at her breasts, keeping it up as she looked at him over her shoulder. Her demeanour said shy, but the Queen he’d met earlier lived in her eyes.

“I would touch you more, Elizabeth,” he murmured and scraped his teeth carefully over her shoulder. His canines had already grown long and sharpened to the point he had to be careful not to cut his tongue. One day soon he would sink them into her throat, claim her as his omega as his alpha had been fighting him to do since the first breath of her sweet scent. But, for now, he used them as a gentle enticement. A way to call to her base instincts.

“How would you touch me, alpha?”

The rumble of his purr grew louder with her seductive look, coy smile, and sweet voice. “Everywhere.” He pressed an opened mouth kiss on her shoulder. “Anywhere.” Another kiss to the sleek arch of her neck. “Wherever you will let me,” he breathed against her ear and laid his wings heavily over hers.

Her knees wobbled, and Steve swiftly wrapped an arm around her, trapping one of her wings in the action. She stiffened, but he soothed her with a strong rumble, one which vibrated against her spine when he drew her tight to his chest. “Easy, sweet omega.”

“I don’t like having my wings pinned, Steven.” She sent him another glance over her shoulder, this one full of pique and was rather withering.

“You are not pinned, Elizabeth. You appeared about to fall, something I would never allow if I could prevent it.” He knew his little omega would be touchy about having her wings trapped. It had once been common practice to chain and tie an omega so they could not fly away. This, through the ages, had bred the fear into them, one some alphas, like Davenport Steve suspected who’d tried to trap her against the balcony railing, still played on.

“I’m asking you to release me, Colonel.”

Panic had begun to seep into her scent, and Steve wrapped her in his Will. “And I am asking you to trust me, omega. I would never cage you.” He held her gently, remained calm, and continued to soothe her with his rumbly purr and the weight of his approval until her tight muscles loosened.

“Good,” he praised and licked her scent gland before releasing her from his hold and freeing her wing, only to lift his hand to trace the pads of his fingers over her chest and cup her chin. “I think we should move this back to your settee, Elizabeth.”

“I think…” Whatever she’d been about to say was cut off when Steve bit down on her throat.

“Yes?” he whispered in her ear.

“I think…” He did it again and made her gasp.

“What?” he asked, careful to keep the smile out of his voice.

She growled in frustration and shoved him back with her wings so she could turn and face him. Her hand landed on his chest, gave him another shove he willingly retreated before, and eventually found himself running out of room when his calves hit the seat.

“You, sir, are a cad and a flirt!” she huffed.

“Are you complaining, Lizzy darling?” he asked as he spread his wings out and sat, bringing her down with him. He nearly growled when she straddled his lap, a most forward position, but it afforded her the ability to sink her fingers in his cravat and pull it free.

“I will only complain if you do not kiss me again, Colonel Rogers,” she quipped most cheekily and smiled like the Queen she was. His were not the only instincts affected as two sharp fangs indented her bottom lip, and her eyes had become thunderclouds of dark, dangerous grey.

Steve snapped his wings around them, creating a cocoon of golden feathers and muted light when he dragged her closer and shifted slightly to lay back into the corner with its heap of pillows. Clearly, it was a favoured little nest of hers for it was quite comfortable.

Now, with her pressed fully to his chest and her deft fingers thoroughly messing his cravat, Steve loosened the hold he kept on his Alpha. There was a surge in his blood, a lightning whip of sensation which seared him and made him groan when he reached up and plucked free the pin holding the twist of hair and curls high off the back of her neck. They tumbled down, and he sank his fingers into the sooty blackness.

“Your hair is like ink, so dark but so soft. I’ve ached to touch it, Elizabeth,” he murmured, teasing the curls through his spread fingers. “You are so lovely, omega. My omega.” He drew her mouth back to his and held her there, trembling, a breath away from seeing them both satisfied.

“Why do you hesitate?” she asked.

“At the Queen’s pleasure, remember?” he teased.

“Such a cad,” she murmured and closed the distance.

Next Chapter

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

A Painter’s Embrace

Chapter One

Introduction (Read Me First)

Summary: Set in the Regency Period, this is my submission for @yourtropegirl ‘s Historical AU Challenge (and it’s been a bitch to write. I created a world for you, woman. There had better be cookies!) Please note this is an ABO fic, but it is not your regular ABO style of dynamic. For more information read the Introduction first. Also, this fic will be slower to update as the research takes longer. It will not update weekly!

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x OFC  | Word Count: 5276 Warnings: None

Lady Elizabeth Heartright, the darling of the Ton - the high society set of stuffy and rather tedious people she socialized with - was standing in the ballroom of Iron Court, doing her best to ward off the unwanted advances of many a suitor. She had only just managed to escape out from under the attention of Lord Davenport, the overbearing alpha who seemed unable - or more likely unwilling - to take no for an answer, and she was desperately thirsty.

Just because she was an omega did not mean she would roll over for the first male who snarled at her, and this male had been snarling for quite some time. However, having been raised by an alpha father and a beta mother, and being the Omega Queen she was, she had far more backbone than most women of her type.

It was off-putting to some, but, all in all, she had decided if the males who came calling could not handle a little bite in their omega, she did not want them for an alpha. As she was also the heir to the Heartright fortune, every male with even a modicum of pedigree was hanging off her primaries. Weeding out a few of the less desirable set, those who could not tolerate her… quirks made her life easier.

She shook her wings to free the tension in her shoulders. They’d been held in a defensive position for so long Lizzy was certain she would have a headache to contend with the next day thanks to her tight back muscles.

“Lady Heartright, you are most fortunate to have caught the eye of Lord Davenport. He is a fine alpha,” Martha Winthrop said, swooning slightly at Lizzy’s side.

She tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “I would rather have caught the eye of a mallard,” she muttered, tugging her glove up her elbow and taking the cup of punch offered her by the servant at the refreshment table. Martin’s eyes twinkled merrily, apparently enjoying her pronouncement, but she did not hold it against him. The landed servants of this house all knew they could trust her to keep her mouth shut when it came to their amusements and entertainments.

“Lady Heartright!” Martha gasped, her blue eyes wide in shock and dowdy grey wings fluttering in distress. “Hush yourself. Whatever would your mother say?”

“She would say Lizzy had every right to choose her mate, Miss Winthrop. Now, go away and let Lizzy be.”

Lizzy smiled past the rim of her cup at the approaching woman in sky blue silk. The high waist of her gown was patterned with loops of pearls and heavy embroidery, mimicked on the short, puffy sleeve. Wings of black and grey swept out behind her, a startling contrast to Constance’s bright red hair. Had it been anyone else to speak so to Martha there would have been hell to pay, but, as it was Constance Stark, daughter and heir to Lord Stark the Earl of Iron and host for the evening, Martha bobbed a curtsey and hurried off, her wings folded tightly to her spine.

“Thank you, Constance,” Lizzy said, linking her arm through the proffered one after returning her cup to the servant.

She smiled and led Lizzy away from the refreshments to take a slow turn around the room. “I was actually coming to save you from the advances of Lord Davenport when father waylaid me.” An omega herself, she lifted her wings high and wrapped one around the back of Lizzy, indicating their desire for privacy when the males looked to advance upon them.

Lizzy and Constance had been friends from birth, the Starks and the Heartrights close in both age and distance, so when at the tender age of ten both of Lizzy’s parents were killed in a carriage accident, it had been to the Starks she had gone.

Her father’s will had made it quite clear Lizzy was to be allowed to choose her own path in life and love, as her parents had before her, and Lord Stark had been most accommodating. Yes, it was an oddity in this age, a woman, an Omega Queen at that, being allowed to rule her own life, but Anthony Edward Stark was an eccentric man himself.

An inventor, he had created many a unique trinket. Some of which had gone to help the war effort against Napoleon and his army. Lord Stark was an oddity, but then his wife, Lady Pepper was no better. An alpha and an omega who fit so perfectly their love was blinding, but Lord help anyone who tried to intimidate Lady Pepper.

The woman was as fiery as her hair and wings implied. A vibrant red, Lizzy had heard her take many an overbearing alpha or beta to task with the sharpness of her tongue. Was it any wonder the Ton knew both Lizzy and Constance as spirited women?

Stubborn was the word used by polite company. Pigheaded was the one used behind closed doors. Unseemly most likely as well.

Such was the reason that at twenty and one summer’s Lizzy was still unmated and unwed. She had yet to find a mate to suit her. One for whom she could love and be loved without the restrictions of society. One who could tolerate her strong-headed ways, silly quirks, and stubborn qualities. She would not be meek. She would not simper and cower and walk two steps behind her alpha. She would be his partner in life. Not just a body he could breed his offspring on.

“Take a breath, Lizzy. Your irritation is spiking,” Constance murmured, curling her wing tighter around them.

“My apologies. I was woolgathering again,” she sighed softly.

“You worry you will never find an alpha worthy of you. I understand, Lizzy. I have the same fear.”

It was too dower a subject for such a splendid fête, and Lizzy pushed the distressing thoughts to the side. “Tell me what your father wanted?”

“It appears his honoured guests have arrived. He was going to greet them personally before bringing them into the ball and was stepping away for a moment.”

“This is the Earl of Denton and his friend? The ones from the war effort?” Lizzy asked curiously.

The Earl was spoken of frequently and with great admiration by Lord Stark. He had been a staunch supporter of Tony’s weapons and gadgets, using many of them himself on the front lines of the battle.

“Indeed,” Constance giggled softly, her excitement clear in her scent. “Father is most pleased to meet them after corresponding with them for so long. Tis a shame it is injury which has returned them to us from France, but good fortune the Earl lives only a short flight away.”

Lizzy wondered if some of Constance’s excitement was due to how both males were unknown to them. Perhaps one would make a fitting mate for her friend. For Lizzy herself, she simply hoped neither would chase after her like a hawk after a sparrow. She was tired of the constant barrage of suitors, almost ready to place herself squarely off the market simply to have a break from the incessant banter.

She knew as all omegas did, she was a highly desirable commodity. She was also not blind to the image of herself in the mirror. Her hair had been likened to a raven’s feathers so many times; she often wished she could change it if only to hear a different remark. Her wings, a swans crowning glory dipped in the moon’s shining beams was enough to make her gag. Her eyes like storm-swept skies… Please! She’d read better prose in the trashy novels smuggled in by the landed servants.

“How nice for them,” she commented absently.

“Lizzy, darling, are you feeling alright?” Constance asked, giving the air a surreptitious sniff.

“Stop it, Constance. You know you and I… do that at the same time.” She blushed, refusing to speak about heats in public.

“You appeared so sad, Lizzy. I was worried about you,” Constance murmured, coming to a stop in a slightly secluded corner of the ballroom.

Lizzy sighed and leaned her head against Constance’s shoulder, her best friend’s wings now hiding them fully from view. “I have grown weary of the pretense. At times I think I should simply become the maiden aunt to your offspring and spend father’s fortune on frivolous things. Perhaps I should become an eccentric cat collector.”

“Perish the thought!” Constance scoffed, not a cat person herself. “But I know, love.” She smiled gently, cupping Lizzy’s cheeks. “Do not give up hope just yet. I truly believe something good is about to happen.”

“If you say so.” Lizzy wiped the lone tear from her cheek. “I will forever be grateful to your father for never once pushing me to choose.”

“Mother would pluck his feathers if he tried,” she giggled, returning them to their leisurely strolling.

“Uncle Stark is most vain about his feathers.” The man had large wings of black and red and gold. They were quite stunning and most intimidating when he was in a mood. “At times I think he spends more time preening than even you, dear Const…” Her voice trailed off when the hullabaloo erupted near the entrance.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Stark called out, his wings lifted high as he stood atop the stairs. “It is my great honour and privilege to present to you, Colonel Rogers, the Earl of Denton, and Lieutenant Colonel Barnes, Lord of Winterborne.”

The alpha’s wings swept down, and Lizzy’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh… my,” she whispered, unable to pull her eyes from the blond man in the red military uniform with ropes of gold braiding and lapels of navy. He stood tall and regal at the top of the stairs in breeches of white silk and high boots. Though impeccably dressed, he was outfitted so differently from the rest of the men in the room he quite stood out from the others.

His short cropped hair curled ever so slightly at his ears and over his forehead, while eyes of crystalline blue could be seen even at a distance. When he stepped forward and bowed to the room, she felt a blossom of heat curl in her core for he had the most beautiful golden wings she’d ever seen.

They lifted up, high and wide, spreading out behind him magnificently. Lizzy had never seen so many shades of gold. Everything from deep, rich antique to bright and shiny as a newly minted coin. It wasn’t until his primaries fanned out she noted the shocking touch of bronze along the tips.

Her heart fairly pounded, and she lifted a hand to her throat to contain the flutter. “Constance…” she whispered.

“Oh… my,” her friend sighed.

Lizzy felt a moment of panic. Certainly, Constance couldn’t be as entranced by the alpha - and an alpha he must be with those wings - as she was. When she darted a glance her way, Lizzy nearly sobbed in relief for Constance’s gaze was not on the golden one, but rather the rougher looking dark male at his side.

Lord Barnes appeared the quintessential rake in his red uniform and breeches of black highlighting his thick muscles. He was dressed as the Earl in high boots though his hair was a touch too long to be fashionable. When his wings lifted, brushing along the edge of the Earl’s in a move born of familiarity, Constance sighed at their grandeur. They were the deepest, purest black Lizzy had ever seen. They appeared to absorb the light around him until he was wreathed in shadow and proclaimed him an alpha as well.

In truth, he scared Lizzy a little. There was a hardness to him she was disinclined to be acquainted with. But Constance, her much more adventurous friend, appeared wholly enamoured of the dark soldier.

It was not until the two men made to descend the stairs that Lizzy became aware of the injuries which had seen them returning home. The Colonel leaned heavily on a silver-headed cane, his limp pronounced, while a sling tied across his body hindered the Lieutenant's left arm.  

“Come, Lizzy dear. We should make our presence known to them before they are encumbered by any number of fawning females.”

She eyed Constance with amusement. “Are you not simply adding yourself the mix of fawning females?”

“What? No!” she huffed. “As a Stark myself, and you as father’s ward, it is only correct we introduce ourselves.”

Lizzy detached her arm from Constance with a small smile. “You go on. I am going to take in the air on the terrace. It is far too stuffy in here for me.” And with everyone flocking to the newcomers, perhaps she could find a moments peace and a welcome touch of privacy.

“Are you certain you are alright?” Constance asked, torn between coming with her and inserting herself into the growing circle of simpering omegas.

“Go. I will be fine.” She smiled, patted Constance’s hand, and shooed her away.

Once her friend was off in a flutter of feathers, Lizzy turned to the exterior doors and made her way outside to stand in the shadows along the railing.

It was a soft night in the English countryside. The air was fresh and clean, the stars were bright, and she inhaled the satisfaction of it. But it was a short-lived peace for, when she lifted her wings high and wide behind her, letting them stretch after the tightness induced by Lord Davenport’s presence, a hand, big and rough and unwanted, landed on the bare flesh between them.

Her shriek of fear ripped through the night as she spun to face the intruder, snapping her wings around herself protectively to glare at the man for whom she held only contempt.

“Come now, darling. Is that any way to treat your alpha? When will you end this charade? We both know you will be mine eventually.” Davenport leered at her, his hand skimming the edge of her feathers.

“Do not touch me, sir!” Lizzy yelped, stepping back and finding herself trapped against the railing.

He stepped into her, murky brown wings coming up to hide them from view, the alpha doing his best to intimidate her into submitting. “Why should I not touch what is mine, little omega? You keep running from me, but you will give me what I want eventually.”

He gripped her by a wing and yanked her toward him, causing Lizzy to cry out and fear to explode in her scent. “No! Get away from me!”

He dragged her closer and pushed his nose into her neck, stroking it up to scent her and leaving his foul one behind when he licked at her skin. “You smell lush, Elizabeth.”

“Someone, help me!” she cried. Well aware the noise of the ball would likely muffle her plea, Lizzy brought her free wing up, smacking him in the jaw with the hard arc of bone, knocking his face away and his grip from her feathers.

“You will pay for that, omega!” he snarled, eyes tinting red.

She wanted to cower, wanted to back away from the rage, but she would not fall beneath the Will of this heinous male. “Stay away from me!” Lizzy snapped, sweeping her wings down to launch herself to the railing she was trapped against. “Your company is neither requested nor wanted. I reject you, Lord Davenport, and shall be informing Lord Stark of this blatant breach of good manners!”

He made to lunge for her, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“The lady has made her wishes known, sir. It is time for you to abandon your quest.”

“Who the hell do you think you are interfering in business between an alpha and his omega?” Davenport snarled as he spun around, wings raised high, seeking to intimidate Lizzy’s would be rescuer.

Lizzy gasped when the other male’s wings lifted and snapped outward. They fairly doubled that of Davenport’s and were shining shimmering gold. The omega in her whimpered, and Lizzy nearly did as well when she whispered, “Warlord Alpha.”

***

“I would be Colonel Steven Grant Rogers, Earl of Denton, and I would thank you, sir, to stop harassing that omega! She clearly is not yours nor does she wish to be.” Steve felt his alpha surge, the secondary biology which drove him to follow instincts old as time. It whipped out as a lash against the lesser alpha, slapping him with a wall of his Will not many could resist for long.

His instincts had led him here to the terrace when his ear had caught the first muffled scream. When he’d arrived at the door to find the woman needing assistance was the incredible dove he’d seen across the ballroom, his heart had clenched.

She was lovely with hair like ink, skin like cream, and eyes of slate grey, but it was her wings which had drawn his attention. Even across the expanse of the room he could see they were the purest of white, a shimmering alabaster, but stretched to their full extent as she made to escape her assailant he found they were even more remarkable for not only did they proclaimed her a Queen, but the underside gleamed like mother of pearl. A cascade of pastel colours, all soft and glorious, while the tip of her primaries appeared dipped in silver.

His artist’s heart thumped a hard cadence. What would it take to have her agreeing to sit for a portrait? Would he even be able to capture the magnificence of such wings?

Her impassioned snarl was so unlike an omega he’d had to take a moment to find his bearings before making his way out on the terrace to assist her; the pain in his leg momentarily forgotten.

“The Golden Devil…” Davenport whispered, the red leaving his eyes as his wings folded submissively behind him. “I beg pardon, my lord.”

“You should be begging the pardon of Lady…?” He looked up to the ethereal creature standing on the railing like an Egret about to take flight.

“Heartright, my lord.” She bobbed an effective curtsey for one so precariously perched.

“Lady Heartright as it is she you have distressed.” Steve glowered at Davenport until the man snapped a swift bow.

“Miss. I beg forgiveness for my forward actions. I shall inform your Uncle I will be withdrawing my suit. Good evening.”

He straightened, nodded to Steve, and returned inside, allowing Steve to appreciate the beauty before him fully. The shimmering lavender of her gown hugged her breasts. He could tell she would be trim of waist and round of hip even had she not been laced into a corset. The ribbon beneath her breasts was a darker variation of purple, strung with beads and jewels, a match for the bands of her sleeves and the collar of her pretty dress. Pins held up her curls, ones of flowers and butterflies, appearing to fly across the blanket of night her hair had become.

She was utterly disarming.

He had never been so enraptured by a woman at first glance before. Then, the breeze shifted, carrying her scent to his nose and he almost growled. Mine. The stunning dove was his.

His mate. His omega. His Queen. His.

And her fear scented the air.

The very thought of her being afraid of him snapped him out of his haze of scents and instincts. “You are safe,” he said softly, stepping closer, his limp going unnoticed in favour of enticing the little female to him. “Come down, pretty dove.” He held up his hand to assist her, lowering his wings to be less threatening, but leaving them spread out, a hard to resist temptation.

She looked at him suspiciously for a time, one hand repeatedly rubbing over the scent gland on her throat, driving him insane with the desire to do so himself. After what felt an eternity of time, she reached for his hand and took it gently to step with grace and a curl of her wings to the ground.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He lifted her gloved hand to his lips, unable to look away from her eyes. “A gentleman must assist a lady in distress.”

She blushed, the colour highlighting her cheeks. “What a special breed of gentleman you must be. Not many would have stood against Lord Davenport.”

“Aggravating sot,” Steve muttered, earning a surprised giggle. The musical sound made him smile. “Would you sit with me, Lady Heartright? I’m afraid my leg is still not quite healed.”

“Oh! How dreadful of me to keep you standing. Please.” She took his arm and led him slowly across the terrace to sit on a stone bench.

Steve stretched his leg out and rubbed at his thigh, well aware of the spike of interest which floated between them. Unlike him, who’d caught the delectable natural scent of her and knew without a doubt she was his, his high collar, cravat, and heavy waistcoat effectively masked his scent to the point where she had not yet caught his.

“Heartright… Heartright… would you be Elizabeth Heartright, the ward of Lord Stark?” he asked, tilting his head, studying the way the moonlight seemed to shimmer over her feathers.

“Yes. He is my uncle… of a sort,” Lizzy smiled.

“Of a sort sounds rather mysterious. Are you a mysterious sort of omega, Lady Heartright?”

She laughed, bringing her gloved fingers to her lips before rubbing, again, the spot on her throat. It lifted her scent into the air, one mixed with that of Davenport.

His audacity offended Steve greatly. To mark an unwilling omega in such a way was frowned upon. This was not the days of yore when omegas were seen as chattel, property to be owned and parcelled out. They were people, human beings, and should be cherished and pampered, not bullied and forced.

“I hate to be a disappointment, my lord, but I am a plain country girl.” She shook her head, her eyes alight with amusement.

Steve reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled forth a handkerchief scented with lavender. “For your neck, if you’ll permit me?” he asked, motioning to the spot which was bothering her.

Her eyes grew round, and he thought she would reject his offer before a shift came over her, a rise of her secondary nature. She may not have caught his scent, but her omega was not averse to his alpha.

“Would you?” she asked softly.

Perhaps it was forward, but Steve would not allow himself to think of the impropriety when his need to care for the beautiful omega was making his alpha snarl. Evidently, her omega was pushing her to let him in much the same fashion.

Without further thought, he leaned toward her, her scent intoxicating to his senses. It made his head swim, and he longed to tuck his nose in her throat and lick away the offending odour of the other male. Instead, he gently wiped the linen over her skin.

She tilted her head, the act a submissive one which saw Steve biting back another growl. When the scent of the other male no longer lingered on her skin, he pulled away, but not before grazing her jaw with his thumb.

“Thank you, my lord,” she sighed. “His advances were unwanted. His actions even more so.”

“I am glad I arrived before he could force your hand,” Steve agreed.   

“Would you explain something to me, my lord?” she asked softly, her fingers twisting together.

“If I can, I will do so.”

“What did Lord Davenport mean by The Golden Devil?” She looked up at him with curious eyes.

Steve chuckled softly and shook his head. “It was a name given me by my men. The French captured Lord Barnes and a contingent of my soldiers. I knew where they were, and knew how to get to them, but was told to stand down and wait for reinforcements. Lord Barnes, James who goes by Bucky, has been my best friend, my brother, since our nursery days and when my parents passed, his took me in. I could not, would not leave him to the French. I disobeyed orders, went in after the contingent alone and freed the soldiers. We fought our way out, taking down one of Napoleon’s strongholds in the process. Bucky had been… well, it is not for polite company.”

“Tortured?” she asked, concern in her voice. “And as for polite company, I find it dreadfully dull. Speak as you will, Colonel Rogers.”

He smiled at her, happy to have her drop the my lord stuffiness. He was too long in the military with men of a rough and tumble nature to hold with such formalities. “Yes, the Lieutenant had been tortured, his injuries great, but I refused to leave him behind. I fought my way through with Bucky on my shoulder. The men said watching me fight, wings high and sweeping, was like watching the devil. After, whenever we went into battle, it was said the sight of my wings alone was enough to send Napoleon’s forces fleeing. We were turning the tide of the war till this took me down.” He slapped his thigh with a sigh.

“And your friend? Was he also injured so?”

“In the same battle. Barnes is a crack marksman. A sniper, but when he saw me go down, he came to assist and took a bullet for his trouble.”

“Oh, how brave but how terrible,” she said, drawing her left wing closer. She winced when it moved, sending pain and distress into the air.

“Are you injured from your ordeal, Lady Heartright?”

“My wing is a trifle tender. I’m afraid Lord Davenport was rather insistent.”

Steve growled, low and deadly, but tenderly touched her sore wing. “Forgive my forwardness, but if anything is damaged…”

“No… I… I understand,” she blushed, extending it out to him.

As gently as possible, he manipulated the bones and tendons. When he finished, assured she was only bruised, Steve was unable to resist running his palm over the sleek feathers. “You have the most beautiful wings I have ever seen. I suppose one would say they were like a swan’s dipped in moonlight,” she stiffened, then sighed as if disappointed, “but I would not.”

“You wouldn’t?” Surprise had her lifting her head.

“No.” Steve shook his head, tenderly tracing a finger over the arch of her wing. “They are like a blanket of fresh snow upon the hills which sparkles beneath the glow of a full moon. A ribbon of a frozen river appears silver beneath the night sky to tip your primaries in its glory.”

She looked at him with eyes full of wonder before they darted down and away. “You… you honour me, Colonel,” she murmured.

A host of emotions rose from her to thrum against his alpha. Happy, surprised, pleased, embarrassed. They seemed to swirl in his nose and stroke his ego, urging him onward in his early pursuit of this sweet omega.

He gently manipulated her wing to touch the interior of her stunning feathers hesitantly. “But this, my lady, this took my breath away. It is as if someone inlaid your feathers in mother of pearl. I have never seen such wonders before.”

She blushed and gently pulling her wing from his grasp so they could sweep submissively down her back. Her lashes fluttered and more pleased, happy, awed appeared in her scent. “I must admit, yours are… quite fetching as well.”

“These?” he asked sliding one forward, so it opened and cut off the light from the ballroom.

“Magnificent,” she whispered. Her hand lifted, but she hesitated before reaching for the top of her glove. She peeled it down, exposing her smooth forearm, only to pause at her wrist. “Please, do not think less of me?”

“I could never,” he whispered and took her hand to pull away each finger of her glove, freeing her of the fabric.

Her hand returned to his wing and gentle fingers, warm and soft, stroked languidly down them.

Steve felt her touch all the way to his soul. His cock jumped when she pressed her palm against his secondaries and jumped again when she traced the edge of one of his bronze-tipped primaries.

“They are so beautiful.”

“Omega,” he rumbled softly.

She turned to him, hand buried still in his feathers. Shy was written all over her posture.

When he held out his hand, she gave hers over willingly. He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on the bare flesh. “Lord Barnes and I will be in residence a few days to discuss… things of a military nature with Lord Stark. Would it be forward of me to ask to spend time with you while we are here? To… to call upon you, Lady Heartright? Perhaps take in the grounds?”

“Yes,” she whispered, taking her hand back with reluctance to return her glove to its proper place.

“Yes, it would be forward, or yes, you would take a walk with me? Albeit a short one,” he teased gently, patting his thigh.

“Oh, no… I mean yes, I mean…” she cleared her throat, “I would be most delighted to take even a short walk with you, my lord.”

“And here I thought we’d slipped past silly formalities.” He took her hand and got slowly to his feet to balance on his good leg while he tucked her hand in the bend of his elbow. “I would be most pleased for you to call me Colonel Rogers, my lady.”

“Colonel,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling with reflected stars.

“Allow me to escort you back to your Uncle.” He needed to stake a claim before another could, and speaking with her Uncle would expedite things.

“How did you manage to make it through all these people to assist me?” she asked, looking up at him curiously as they stepped back inside.

He smiled softly down at her. “Not many people can stand against me when I put my mind to something, fair lady.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed.” He bent a little closer, aware of the eyes on them. “I always get what I’m after. It’s part of my charm,” he said with a roguish smile.

She laughed in surprised delight. “I’m sure you are most charming… for a Golden Devil.”

Steve only smiled, pleased with her wit as her shyness waned, and lifted his wings to settle one behind hers before casting a glance around the room at the many disappointed faces both male and female. Clearly, they had all been hoping for more from both himself and the darling woman with him.

But it was of little consequence for this Golden Devil would have his sweet White Dove. Nothing and no one would stand in the way of a Warlord Alpha in pursuit of his Omega Queen.

Next Chapter

[thefanficfaerie]

Historical AU Challenge

Time Periods   

1. Renaissance    Jim KIrk/Reader @officialheroesofolympus

2. Ancient Rome- Gladiators     Steve Rogers/Reader @daily-cup-of-writing     Jim Kirk/Reader @omg-imagine

3. Ancient Greece- Myths (pick a myth and write story based on that myth)     Tony/Reader @shitty-imagines-95     Jim Kirk/Reader by @taylorjacksonandtheolympians

4. 1600s: Witches, Colonists coming to the New World     Steve Rogers/Reader @travelwithwords          Stucky/Reader @dontyouwishyouhadlove

4. The Golden Age of Piracy     Leonard McCoy/Reader @annathewitch     Jim Kirk/Reader @bookcaseninja

6. 1920s- Mafia (Robin Hood-esque) Flappers, speakeasy     McKirk @captainsbabysitter-blog     Rafael Barba/Reader with the rest of the SVU crew by @rauliskafan

7. Victorian Era      Leonard McCoy/Reader @imoutofmyvulcanmind

8. Vikings      Steve Rogers/Reader @lt-sammi-matthews

9. Revolutionary America       Jim Kirk/ Reader @boldlywritingtrek

10. Regency       Steve Rogers/Reader by @tilltheendwilliwrite       Hotch/Reader @writefasttalkevenfaster

11. Old West       Steve Rogers/Reader @kaunis-sielu

12. 1950s- Greasers/Bikers       Steve Rogers/Reader by @captain-rogers-beard       Rafael Barba/Reader by @paigeinastory

13 Elizabethan Era-Kings, queens, royal      Stucky/Reader @locke-writes      Rafael Barba/Reader @writefasttalkevenfaster

14. 1970s or 80s         Steve Rogers/Reader @4theluvofall

15. Middle Ages (Medieval Period)        McKirk x Reader @auduna-druitt

[thefanficfaerie]

1 Year Anniversary Challenge

So this was supposed to go out this morning. But I woke up late and then had to get things ready for Thanksgiving, which is pretty near ready surprisingly. As I said last night my one year Tumblr Anniversary is coming up, specifically 5 days from today. But I always get challenge ideas in my head and can’t let them go till I post them. So I am posting it a week early. 

Challenge: To Write a Historical AU using my favorite characters. If you also manage to make it an A/B/O Dynamic or a Wing!fic, I will give you bonus points, a virtual cookie and a mood board of your choosing. For every story that gets completed, I will make a mood board to go with your story. 

Rules:

1. Must be reader insert for one of the characters I follow or a ship I follow (McKirk and Stony). I am only taking 2 McKirks. If I get more Len/Reader and Jim/Reader than I do McKirk, Ill open McKirk back up. 

2. I will take sign-ups til January 1. 

3. All Entries are due February 14. 

4. Please use the Keep Reading link if your story is longer than 750 words. I will add it to the list but I won't reblog if you don’t. 

5. You can do angst but must have a fluffy ending.

6. You can take a time period that is already taken but no more than two to a time period and you must do a different character. 

7. Please tag the stories #yourtropegirlchallenge or #historicalauchallenge 

8. And the last and most important rule HAVE FUN. 

Time Periods

1. Ancient Egypt-Pharoah, Pharoah’s Daughters

2. Renaissance

3. Ancient Rome- Gladiators 

4. Ancient Greece- Myths (pick a myth and write story based on that myth)

5. 1600s: Witches, Colonists coming to the New World 

6. The Golden Age of Piracy 

7. 1920s- Mafia (Robin Hood-esque) Flappers, speakeasy

8. Victorian Era

9. Vikings

10. Revolutionary America 

11. Regency 

12. Old West 

13. 1950s- Greasers/Bikers

14 Elizabethan Era-Kings, queens, royal 

15. Imperial Russia (I know this spans like 200 years so I was thinking more like the last 50 years or so of Imperial Russia. 

If you don’t see a time period on here you want to do let me know. The keywords are just suggestions you don’t have to use them. Any other questions let me know. 

@bookcaseninja @goingknowherewastaken @pinkamour1588 @rauliskafan @randomlittleimp @captain-rogers-beard @captainsbabysitter-blog @not-close-to-straight @vintagemichelle91 @auduna-druitt @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @tilltheendwilliwrite @caplansteverogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @outside-the-government @starshiphufflebadger @imoutofmyvulcanmind @medicatemedrmccoy @mrsrafaelbarba @thatgirlwhosalwayssinging @locke-writes @imamotherfuckingstar-lord  @goodnightwife @girl-next-door-writes @emilyevanston @theycallmebecca @janeykath318 @nobodys-baby-now @writefasttalkevenfaster @writers-square @melonshino @shitty-imagines-95 @sherrykinss @ohbelieveyoume @seekret-fanfic @xemopeachx @witchymarvelspacecase @ruckystarnes @travelwithwords @enterprisewriting @4theluvofall @avaalons@avaalons @imagicana @becaamm @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps @daily-cup-of-writing @dolamrothianlady @bkwrm523 @atari-writes @this-kitty-has-claws @stucky-and-reader-au  @promarvelfangirl   and anyone I have forgotten.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

A Painter’s Embrace

Chapter Two

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x OFC  |  Word Count: 4787 Warnings: This one is a little smexy

Lizzy sat on the edge of the bed in her nightclothes and stared down at the knuckles on her right hand before lifting them to her nose. His scent, the alpha - Colonel Rogers - was a tease to her senses. So faint she could barely catch it, but the feel of his lips lingered, tingling her skin.

In all her previous encounters with alphas, she’d been left feeling unfulfilled, disappointed, and sad. But now, tonight, her heart beat with the swiftness of a hummingbird’s wings, joy seemed to take flight, and her omega purred in happiness.

She closed her eyes and breathed against her knuckles, desperate to catch the scent of him. It was so unfair the fashion of this age keeping the males a secret while the females remained wholly on display. Never in all her years had she wanted to know what an alpha smelled like. Not before him.

Colonel Rogers with his sky blue eyes and golden crop of curls. There had been no need to pad the thighs of his breeks. He was a man who cut a dashing figure in his uniform, and Lizzy assumed he would cut one just as impressive out of it.

A deep blush coated her face at such thoughts. They may be guided by their secondary nature, but they did not need to be led around by their base instincts.

“Lizzy, dear. What a flush you are sporting,” Constance giggled, shutting the door behind her as she came to bed.

Practically hatchlings together, she and Constance had shared a room and a nest from the moment of Lizzy’s arrival. The comfort she’d taken after her parents passing had been sorely needed. Though she no longer felt the severe pain she had back then, it was nice to share a nest and was comfortable to have someone to cuddle with.

Omega were tactile creatures. They craved contact, and as both she and Constance were without alphas of their own, they satisfied the need for a cuddle with each other. Occasionally when they had been young, Pepper had joined their nest. Her quiet purr a comforting sound which eased the young, heartbroken Lizzy into sleep when her tears had seemed unending.

“Hush, Constance,” Lizzy grumbled, getting up to help her undress.

“Is it the Colonel who has brought such a rosy blush to your cheeks?” Constance teased, lifting her wings out of Lizzy’s way.

Her blush burned all the hotter.

“I knew it!” Constance crowed. “You must tell me everything!”

“There is nothing to tell, Constance!” Lizzy denied, but the way her face went fully scarlet betrayed her in an instant.

Once her dress and petticoat fell to the carpet, Constance spun around and took Lizzy by the arms. She dragged her close and stuck her nose firmly against Lizzy’s throat.

“Constance Stark! Whatever do you think you're about?” Lizzy bellowed.

“You smell of lavender. Why do you smell of lavender?” Constance giggled.

Knowing she would not let it alone, Lizzy gave in to her friend’s nosy nature. “Colonel Rogers was most kind in assisting me to be rid of Lord Davenport’s scent when the alpha… nuzzled me,” she finished with a shudder.

“Lizzy! No!” Constance gasped, well aware of Lizzy’s disapproval of Lord Davenport. “You simply must tell father! His high handed ways won’t be tolerated!”

She motioned for Constance to turn around and began unlacing her short stays. “The Earl saw he apologized and made it quite clear he wouldn’t tolerate Davenport’s behaviour. Then Davenport said he would be informing Uncle of his intentions to withdraw his suit. I am most relieved.” Lizzy sighed, happy to be rid of him.

“I still think you should inform Father of his lack of propriety. That man has been a menace since your first step into society.”

“I will on the ‘morrow,” she assured Constance, removing her friend's corset and helping with her nightgown. “And what of Lord Barnes?” Lizzy asked, not having had the chance to enquire after the man what with spending a goodly amount of time in the presence of Colonel Rogers.

“Lieutenant Colonel Barnes is as chivalrous as a pig! I will thank you not to bring him up again!”

“You do realize they are staying here?”

“Hmph, I am aware. Still, I refuse to spend time with the man. He's a brute. Rude and unconscionable and just, ugh! I will not be forced to suffer his company!”

“My goodness, Constance! Whatever did he do?” Lizzy asked, climbing into bed and nudging pillows around until she was comfortable.

“He looked right at me when I walked up to him, and after I introduced myself, he had the audacity to ask me to move along. I was too old for him! The nerve of the man!” Constance huffed, punching more pillows before putting out the light.

Lizzy clasped her hand tightly once she found it in the dark. “I’m sorry he was so cruel, Constance.” Hurt, pain, rejection, and despair filled the air and Lizzy’s nose. “You will find a good alpha one day. I know you will.”

She sniffled softly but said no more on the subject. “And you, Lizzy? Do you think, mayhap, you’ve found a good alpha?”

A shiver worked its way down Lizzy’s spine. “I want to know what he smells like,” she whispered, feeling her face flush.

“Oh, Lizzy,” Constance sighed happily, scooting closer. “You’ve never had that before.”

“He’s so… handsome, and strong, and powerful, and his wings were so… so soft.”

“You touched his wings!” Constance squealed, only for Lizzy to shush her.

“Exclaim it to the entire keep! I don’t think the boys in the bailey heard you!”

“Sorry, sorry. But, Lizzy, how daring of you,” Constance giggled.

“They were so soft,” Lizzy sighed. “Like velvet and silk but they were so strong and big, and long. Constance, his primaries where huge!”

A snort reverberated in the darkness. “You know what they say about a man’s primaries.”

“Stop it, you hussy!” Lizzy said through muffled laughter.

The two of them giggled for sometime before they fell into companionable silence.

“He asked to call on me and wondered if I’d take a turn around the grounds with him.”

“What did you say?” Constance asked as if she weren’t already aware. 

“Yes,” Lizzy whispered, more heat filling her face. “Will you help me ready tomorrow?”

“Of course I will!” Constance exclaimed. “I will get mother’s help. We are going to make you shine.”

“I’m sure Auntie has better things to do.”

“No, Lizzy. She’d want to be here for this. You’ve found an alpha who holds your interest and for whom you certainly hold his. He had his wing over you all night.”

Constance clutched her hands tighter. “He just being was kind after my ordeal.”

“He was being territorial. Every time anyone even thought of approaching you, his eyes tinged red, and they backed off. He is well on his way to being smitten.”

Silence fell after another round of giggles.

“What if he hates my tenacity?” Lizzy whispered.

“He won’t.”

“But he might.”

“But he won’t.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because, Lizzy dear, I heard him telling Father how much your spirit intrigued him.”

“What! Have you been keeping secrets, Constance?”

“Maybe,” she giggled.

“What do you know?” Lizzy demanded, tickling the ribs of the woman.

“Ah! Stop, stop! I’ll tell.”

“You’d best!” Lizzy warned.

“It seems the Colonel was so taken with you; he informed father quite formally he intends to pursue you, Lizzy darling.”

“Oh… my…” Lizzy whispered.

“Now, the only question is, Lizzy dear, how long will you make him chase you before you submit?”

Lizzy had no answer to give, but the flutter in her heart seemed to speak loud and clear.

Not long at all.

***

Lizzy, Constance, and Pepper entered the breakfast room together the next morning to find the men already at table.

“Pepper, my love. I was afraid you'd gotten lost,” Tony teased. “But how could I fault a small delay when three such beautiful omegas have come to grace my table.”

“Your notice is appreciated, husband,” Pepper said, gliding forward to smile at the men now on their feet. “Lord Denton, Lord Barnes. I do hope you had a restful sleep and are enjoying your stay in our weyr so far.”

“Quite, my lady.” The Earl offered her a smile and short bow, but his gaze drifted back to Lizzy and made her blush.

“My lords.” Both she and Constance bobbed a swift curtsy before taking their seats.

It was Lizzy's fault for the delay. She'd changed her morning dress twice, uncertain in which to choose before settling on the light linen dress in white with a small checked pattern on the bodice in blue. The sleeves were long with buttons at the cuffs, while a dainty bow tied her waist-defining ribbon just below her breasts and beneath her wings. The back draped low to allow free access to the feathered appendages, while a second, smaller strap buttoned above to keep the shoulders of her dress from slipping out of place. Lace gloves adorned her hands, and she'd had Constance assist her with her mother's locket that morning, feeling rather nostalgic. Usually, a strand of pearls or small amethyst graced her decolletage, but the gleam of gold from within her jewelry box had called to mind the colour of the Colonel’s magnificent wings.

“Elizabeth, dear, I noticed your roses are blooming quiet magnificently this morning. You and Constance should take the Colonel and the Lieutenant on a tour of the grounds,” Pepper said while selecting her choice of meat from the servant’s offered dish as their breakfast got underway.

“We have business to attend to this morning,” Tony countered.

“You can attend to your business later,” Pepper handily overrode him, gently sliding her hand down his arm. “How often will we be able to appreciate a morning like this in the countryside? It is gorgeous, my alpha, and I had thought you might fly out with me. But if you're not interested...” She let the words trail off and shrugged.

Lizzy bit her lip when Tony’s head jerked up. Her uncle quite loved to fly out with her aunt, though the woman with the fiery red wings didn't often make the offer. Pepper was a busy woman, overseeing not only this estate but the others the Starks had acquired. While Lizzy had a fine steward who visited her once per month to go over the Heartright accounts, Pepper had multiple stewards, tenants, and lands to manage, but between herself and Jarvis, the Starks majordomo and a wonderful Beta, they kept everything running tip top, allowing Tony the ability to invent and create as he loved without the distraction inherent in running an estate.

The fact Pepper was taking time out of her schedule to distract Uncle Stark simply made Lizzy love her all the more.

“Perhaps a short delay wouldn't be too inconvenient to the Colonel?” Tony looked at the Earl of Denton.

“On the contrary. A walk among the roses would do us both good, eh, Barnes?”

The brooding, dark Lieutenant hummed his agreement. “As you say, Rogers.”

“Excellent!” Tony dug into his breakfast with gusto.

“Father? Did Lord Davenport withdraw his pursuit of Lizzy?” Constance asked as she helped herself to the toast.

“He did.” Tony frowned. “Do not tell me you-"

“Good god, no!” she huffed in disgust. “He made an inappropriate advance toward Elizabeth last night. Quite rough. I would hate to think what might have occurred if not for Lord Denton’s timely intervention.” Constance beamed at him.

“It was my honour to assist, Lady Heartright.” The Colonel nodded his head. “Alphas of that nature should be severely reprimanded.”

“And what is your take on ones who are simply rude?” Constance asked, smiling sickeningly sweetly at Lord Barnes.

Lizzy kicked her in the shin. “Why don't you have some tea, Constance?”

“Excuse me?” Tony’s growl was a low, deadly rumble followed by a rise and flare of his wings which sent the poor landed servants scurrying to back away from the table. “Davenport touched you inappropriately, and you didn't think to inform me at once?”

Her wings clamped down tight in distress at his anger. “It… it was nothing, Uncle. A bully move I had already extracted myself from, and then with the Earl’s assistance I was freed of Davenport’s suit.” 

He instantly relaxed his wings. “Lizzy, darling, you should have told me,” he scolded gently.

“I was just happy he was gone, ” she whispered, her appetite all but vanished beneath the weight of Tony’s displeasure.

Warmth reached out to her from across the table, a strong brush of Will which didn't come from her Uncle but the man seated opposite her.

“Your niece was quite strict with him. I was… most impressed with Lady Heartright’s resistance against such a strong alpha.” The Colonel said as he adjusted his wings to keep them out of the way of the server with the tray of meats who'd worked up the courage to return to the table.

“Her mother was a wonderful strong beta and dear friend,” Pepper murmured, gently petting Lizzy’s arm in a soothing gesture before nudging the bowl of preserves her direction. “Amanda's loss was difficult, but she and Robert both raised our Lizzy to speak her mind and make her own way.”

Lizzy blushed beneath the praise and appreciative glance of the Colonel. “I found him… off-putting,” she said. “It was not difficult to deny someone so…” she was at a loss for the right word.

“Wrong?” Lord Barnes supplied.

“Yes,” she agreed, darting a hesitant glance his way.

He smiled, and it was… charming, disconcerting Lizzy all the more after Constance’s evening revelation.

“Some people simply do not fit,” he continued to say, turning his blue-grey gaze to Constance.

“Some people need to learn when an introduction is nothing more than that,” muttered Constance.

Barnes only snorted as he filled his plate.

“You’ll have to forgive Lord Barnes,” the Colonel said to Constance with a kind, teasing smile. “He’s not fit for polite company, or most company, these days.”

Barnes only grunted and ignored the Colonel.

A flicker of understanding and compassion filled Lizzy. A man who’d gone through what he had, an experience she could only imagine, would likely find it difficult to fit in and return to their occasionally frivolous society. His eyes darted her way, surprise evident before he looked back to his plate and ate without further comment.

***

Lizzy kept her pace slow, conscious of the cane and the limp of the man beside her. Her straw bonnet kept the sun off her skin while a light shawl hung from her elbows. The fringe floated in the breeze when she reached out and touched the head of a blooming rose.

“Are flowers a passion of yours, Lady Heartright?”

She looked up at the Colonel with a smile. “Roses are a hobby. They can be so finicky. I enjoy the challenge of them.”

“You could likely teach my gardener a thing or two. I’m afraid my grounds look less like a fairy’s enchanted bower and more like a trolls wasteland.”

She chuckled softly and took his arm when he offered it. “Ours is a wonderful landed. He taught me so much of plants and making them grow.”

His brow arched in surprise. “You learned from a landed?”

Lizzy blushed, knowing how many felt about those without wings. “They are… such a hardy folk and Brampton was very knowledgeable. He was elderly, and when I was younger, I enjoyed assisting him.”

He tugged her to a stop and leaned heavily on his cane. “I find it admirable your befriending of a landed. They are good people, kind and quite caring of their own. My lands are host to a large village of landed people whom I care deeply for.”

“Really?” Lizzy gasped. “That’s wonderful! I adore going to the landed village. Uncle Stark has always been so willing to listen to them, and they are treated, well, perhaps not as equals but not as the lowbrow common peasants people like Martha Winthrop and Lord Davenport see them as.” She swiftly brought her fingers to her lips. “Oh… forgive me. That was rather… um, opinionated.”

“I find I quite like your opinions, Lady Heartright.” The Colonel smiled and led them toward a bench where he could sit for a moment. “I too, view the landed as beneficial to our society and make the effort to visit when I can to assure myself they have what is needed.”

Lizzy settled at his side and curled her hands in her lap. He cut as dashing a figure today as he had the previous evening, though now he appeared more the country gentleman than the Colonel. His waistcoat was a beautiful deep blue, his shirt and cravat a blinding white, while his vest was a lovely brocade in blue and black. Again he wore breeks and boots with the addition of a tall hat. He looked the part of an Earl today, and quite set her heart aflutter.

Returning her attention to the roses, hoping she wasn’t giving away her thoughts by her scent, Lizzy said, “There’s a woman in the landed village whose name is Rosalee. She makes the most beautiful tapestries.”

“Perhaps another day you could show me?”

Her eyes snapped back to the Colonels. They were filled with kindness and sweet affection, and an admiration which made her blush. “If… if the weather holds… and Uncle Stark approves, I would like that… very much.”

He nodded, and his smile matched his eyes. “Tell me, my lady, what other things besides roses hold your interest?”

“Oh, well…” She bit her lip and fidgeted with her fingers. “There’s the usual, I suppose. Whist and music. I’m afraid I’m absolute rubbish when it comes to needlepoint or things of that nature. I… like to sing, and I do enjoy a dance.” She cast a glance to his leg.

“But what is your passion, fair lady?” he asked, gently cupping her chin and turning her face up to his.

He’d swept his hat from his head, and Lizzy was filled with the desire to sink her fingers into his golden curls. He shifted closer, and the edge of his wing lightly caressed hers, causing Lizzy to shiver as a curl of heat stoked low in her abdomen. The blue of his eyes brightened, his nostrils flared, and she knew he could smell her interest.

His wings lifted, surrounded them in a cocoon of golden feathers, muffling the outside world and keeping their voices from travelling. Both Constance and the Lieutenant were playing chaperone, but neither seemed overly concerned about doing a proper job, so Lizzy found herself alone, seated among the roses and surrounded in gold.

“Tell me… my lady,” he crooned, the sound coaxing. The hand holding her chin shifted to loosen the tie of her bonnet and allow it to tumble down her back before he ever so gently cupped her cheek. “What is the passion you hide from all your suitors?”

His touch lit a fire under her skin, and Lizzy’s eyes closed on a delicate sigh. “Books, my lord. I like to read, and my education is… vast.”

“I knew it,” he breathed, and the breath washed over her lips.

Lizzy opened her eyes to find his mouth but an inch from her own. “Colonel…”

“My lady?”

“When I look at you I… feel certain of something. I’ve never… never felt like this with an alpha before.”

His mouth quirked up into a smile. “Perhaps you were simply waiting for the right alpha.”

“Are you certain that alpha is you?” she asked, shocking herself with her audacity.

He only chuckled. “Oh, yes, my sweet dove, I know it's me.”

“You sound very assured,” she whispered, her gaze locked on the rather full lips so close to her own.

His fingers rested lightly on the sensitive gland beneath her jaw, but where Davenport’s touch had felt distressing, she almost wished the Colonel would move, stroke her skin with his work-roughened hands. They felt big and warm and teased her flesh in the most pleasing way. His wings closed further around them, brushing over hers and making her shiver at the delightful feeling.

How she longed to rip the cravat from his throat, lean forward and drag her nose up his neck, she ached to know what he smelled like. 

“I am assured.” His hand slipped around her spine to pull her closer until Lizzy’s thigh pressed the length of his.

She gave a rather wanton moan. It set her cheeks burning with embarrassment, and her hands came up to press to his chest. “I don’t quite know what’s come over me,” she said softly.

“Yes, you do.” His hand moved from her jaw to the back of her neck, sliding along her skin like she’d wished. He cupped the base of her skull, and Lizzy’s lips parted on a soft sigh. He was big and strong and commanding. His alpha hummed against her omega, coaxing and soft. His wings shimmered in the sun, and his eyes were as blue as the sky. “You know me, sweet omega. Say it. Say what rests on the tip of your tongue.”

“Colonel…”

He growled, and the sound quaked through her body. “No, darling. Not that one.”

He seemed to tower over her even though he was seated, his presence commanding, and Lizzy felt herself soften, relaxing into his body as her hands crept up to find his broad shoulders. He was correct in how the word seemed to rest on the tip of her tongue, tingle there with the desire to be spoken, and finally tumbled forth on another quiet sigh. “Alpha…”

“That’s right, sweet omega,” he whispered and took her lips in a gentle, soft, beautiful kiss.

Lizzy whimpered as she gave herself to the warmth and tenderness of his mouth. Her wings relaxed, sliding down her spine and spreading out submissively. When he broke the sweet kiss, he did so only to press his cheek to hers, rub gently, and drop his nose down to bury beneath her ear. This, in turn, brought his throat close enough for her to bury her nose beneath his and finally inhale the scent she’d longed for.

It hit her like a slap to the face. She growled happily as she reached up, grabbed his collars, and tugged them down. Her tongue was sliding over his skin before she’d even thought to do so, causing him to growl and nip sharply at her throat.

“Omega,” he purred when she moaned. “My omega.”

“My alpha,” she sighed. Her body had lit up with that first delectable breath of his scent. Her breasts burned and tingled, her belly was full of butterflies, and the slick between her thighs was undeniable. It was like the start of a heat cycle, only she was too early, and her temperature hadn’t spiked.

“You smell delicious, Elizabeth,” he sighed, lifting her closer to seat her on his uninjured thigh.

“Colonel,” she whimpered when his mouth caressed the length of her throat, and his tongue bathed a path between her breasts. Hearing her name roll from his lips had her squeezing her thighs together.  

“Steven or Steve, sweet omega. Say you’ll be mine and use my name.”

It was a command quietly worded as a request, but Lizzy’s head was too full of his scent, the pheromones seeping through his clothing becoming trapped by the cage of his wings to create a cloud of mind-fogging arousal. “Yes, yes, Steven,” she said and dived back into his mouth.

The second kiss was nowhere near soft or sweet. It was passionate and wild, a mating of lips and clashing of mouths. When he opened his lips, and his tongue swept the seam of hers, Lizzy let him in without hesitation and found her tongue tangled up with the wild, Warlord Alpha’s in a dance she couldn’t hope to win. In her excitement, she didn’t realize she’d thrust her hands into his hair until the silky strands tangled and she pulled against the knot.

He growled but not in warning. The sound was all pleasure and Lizzy did it again, gave his locks another testing tug. A purr rumbled from him, deep and wild and she gasped in excited pleasure. She bit his lip gently and earned another, sucked on his tongue and had his hand fall to clamp on her bottom.

“Elizabeth, pretty omega,” he groaned. “You must stop, darling or I will not be able to keep from mating you here and now.”

She lifted her head reluctantly only to find Steve’s blue eyes had turned fully red. The alpha was straining with everything he was to hold back, and she swiftly ducked her chin, baring her throat as she jerked her hands from his hair.

He settled her back to the stone bench at his side and quickly caught her face between his palms while he loosened the cage his wings had become, letting a bit of breeze refresh the air around them. “You need never be afraid of me, Elizabeth. I would never hurt you.”

“Everyone speaks of the volatility of Warlord Alphas,” she said, finding his eyes had returned to blue.

“With good reason. Both Barnes and I have been known to do… rather temperamental things at times. We walk that razor’s edge, Bucky more so than myself, but it serves us well. I would not have been able to get Bucky, and my men back had I not been able to rise to the edge and tap into that other part of me. Bucky would not have survived his captivity without it. But you, sweet Elizabeth, have nothing to fear from me. Not even in my rut would I injure you.”

It was common knowledge Warlords had a harder time during their rut. It usually lasted a day or two longer and had a higher chance of turning violent if they were approached incorrectly.

While Lizzy may have had a fleeting moment of trepidation on the terrace the previous evening, she had swiftly found herself at ease with the large alpha. He was so incredibly kind. He was soft and gentle with her. She felt as if she could sink into his Will and simply wrap herself in it.

“I have… a habit of being rather outspoken,” she said quietly.

“No?” he gasped. “I never would have guessed.”

She chuckled softly. “That was very cheeky.” He simply grinned and gave an unrepentant shrug. “What I was trying to say, Colonel is while we may be true mates, you have to know I won’t be some meek, fluttering female only good for producing hatchlings. I have yet to accept an alpha because most find my ideals… untenable.”

“And you think I have waited this long to find my mate because I want a featherbrained female who has no mind and couldn’t hold a conversation to save her life?” He tsked softly and tilted his head. “You don’t yet know me, fair Elizabeth, but I can assure you that is the last thing I desire.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked bluntly.

He let his wings uncurl, taking his scent with him as he stood and held out his hand. “Nothing more than what you have to offer, Lady Heartright. An omega with tenacity, an active mind, and a sweet demeanour.”

She smirked a little grin. “I’m not always sweet.”

He assisted her to her feet but didn’t move away, continuing to crowd her against the bench as he lifted her knuckles to his lips. “I am well aware of the passionate Queen you can become, my lady. I assure you, I look forward to seeing her again as well.”

His lips were quite warm and caused an all-new flutter to form in her belly. “As do I, my lord,” she teased, maneuvering around him and returning her bonnet to her head.

A growl rippled behind her, but Lizzy only glanced over her shoulder at him. “Coming… alpha?” The flash of red to his eyes and lift of his wings made her smile. She’d seen Pepper use the same sentence on Tony and it always ended the same way. With one or the other slamming their bedroom door shut. To see the same type of desire reflected in the Colonel’s eyes gave her a thrill as she sauntered on down the trail.

Next Chapter

[thefanficfaerie]

Historical AU Challenge is due in 13 days

Reminder only the first part is due by Valentine’s Day if your story will have multiple parts. 

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