A snowstorm brings you an unexpected guest for a few days. But when those few days with the Sheriff make it hard to imagine life without him will you give up your freedom to love him?
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.
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.
Summary: Len’s been going back to the Clover regularly now, and a couple of Jim’s employees start to wonder who this guy is wooing their boss. They get to meet Mama McCoy and witness just why Len’s so good at what he does.
~*~*~*~
It becomes, at least, a weekly thing. Leonard would tap Ben in and the two of them made their way to the Clover on Main to sit, sip at some of the best coffee Len had ever had, then duck down below to partake in some of the worst whiskey to ever pass his lips. The redeeming factor was always the dance saved for him by Jim, but he also enjoyed antagonizing Spock, the bartender.
Really, he should have expected what happened next. The whole place was on edge any time Len spent extra attention on their boss, but he never would have thought the piano man Ben fancied and the sax player that couldn’t be older than 18 if that would have the guts to follow them out. He glanced to his side and gave Ben a slight nod with an amused smile; if that’s how this was going to go down, so be it. They’d be in for an interesting time.
About the time they reached the gate that led up to the McCoy family home, Len finally broke the silence, “You boys wanna come up for a real drink? Been a long walk and I’d hate to see ya go back empty handed.”
The responding squeak from the young blonde almost made him laugh, but he schooled his features into a congenial smile. “Come on, now. You don’t have much choice in the matter at this point.”
“What the hell does that mean?” The pianist- Hikaru, if Len remembered Ben’s rambling from the first week- demanded.
“Laddie, I think it means yer outnumbered, outgunned, and out’ve options,” Scotty piped up from behind the group. He and Christine stood behind both Hikaru and the boy with guns trained on the backs of their heads. “Ye must’ve been straight ossified t’be followin’ him here.”
“Christine, you look nice. Did the two of you go out?” Len asked casually as he unlocked the gate.
“She found this bird she fancies and wanted someone te watch her back,” Scotty grumbled. “I cannae find my own fun in a place like tha’, Leonard.”
“Next time you get to pick the place and she’ll wing,” Len replied easily. “Come on, boys. I have a meeting I’m already late for and Marcus isn’t known for his patience.”
The man in question is already seated at the table fuming when the group walks in headed by Len. Christine, Ben, and Scotty stand silently behind the chair of their boss, watching over the other three occupants of the room like hawks.
“Sit down, boys, and we’ll begin. Now Marcus… You and I had an agreement, I believe? We leave each other’s shipments alone and part as silent enemies? What would you go setting fire to one of my cars for?” His tone was deceptively calm, almost like he was having a casual conversation with a high school pal.
“It was in my territory. I was well within my rights to set fire to it and put a couple bullets in the heads of your men, but I didn’t, did I?”
“They were passing through. I’ve let your stock pass through mine unmolested on many occasions.”
“Not my problem if you can’t keep your borders guarded, McCoy, but I’m damn well going to keep your men off mine.”
A small woman Hikaru and Pavel could only assume was Leonard’s mother came in with a glass of whiskey and set it down in front of Marcus. “Here you are, Mr. Marcus. Fresh out’ve the still.”
Instead of thanks, he just nodded and waved her off, missing the way Leonard’s entire body seemed to tighten at the disrespect. Mama seemed to take it in stride, however, and just smiled at her son. “Your friends need something to drink, Leonard?”
“They’re from that cafe I was telling you about, mama. Get them something from yesterday’s batch.”
The second she was out of earshot, Marcus leaned in in an attempt to be intimidating. “You listen here… Any more of your coffin varnish come over my border and you’ll find what’s left of your men in a hat box, you understand me? And if that pretty thing behind you happens to be there, we’ll show her a good time first.”
Lens’ grip on his glass tightened a little, but he just leveled the man with a mild look. Mama came back with drinks for Hikaru and Pavel. “Here you go, dears. Drink up and enjoy!”
After a couple hesitant sips, both their faces lit up. Sulu took a deeper pull from his glass. He looks up at mama’s beaming face with a wide grin. “Ma’am, I haven’t had hootch this good ina dog’s age.”
“Oh hush, young man.” She turned her smile from the boys to Marcus. “And how do you like your drink, Mr. Marcus?”
As the attention of the room turned toward the rival gin runner, he seemed to have a little trouble forming an answer. He started sweating and his face turned a bit red as he started choking on what appeared to be nothing. Hikaru and Pavel shared a horrified look while the others looked almost bored with the proceedings. It wasn’t until Marcus began scrabbling at his neck, flecks of blood flying from his lips, that mama tutted over the red on her nice linens.
“Really, you can’t even die neatly,” she scolded him lightly once his head hit the table. When she saw the shared looks of fear directed at their own glasses, mama couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh bless your hearts! Yours are just whiskey, dears. I can’t abide rudeness under my roof. Ben? Scotty? Be a dear and take care of this, will you? Christine could you help me with this tablecloth? Last thing I need is to ruin my new linens.”
The three hopped to it immediately with a reverent “yes, ma’am.” Len just took another sip of his own drink and turned his gaze toward the two jazzers sitting at his table.
“So. Would you like to tell me what you were doing following me now?”
“We wanted to see what you were like,” Hikaru blurted. Pavel nodded eagerly in agreement.
“The keptin is very… Trusting,” Pavel added.
“I see. Well I can respect that. You’re his men, and you’re just doing your due diligence, hm?” When they nodded, he continued, “I’ll overlook it once. Once. This once. You stick your noses where they don’t belong again, and you’ll be carrying them back to your mamas, you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” came the unison response.
“That being said, you like our whiskey here?” He took the immediate enthusiastic praise as an affirmative. “I’m looking to maybe sell to Jim. That garbage y’all are serving there now makes me want to chase it by chomping on the glass it came with.”
The two shared an uncertain look. That couldn’t be good. A silent conversation took place between them before Pavel spoke, “That might not be possible.”
“Why? Surely he wouldn’t mind having better stock for the same price or better.”
“Yeah, well… Jim’s already got a supplier, and he’s pretty possessive…”
“And he gives the keptin protection for the bar.”
“And if I can offer the same protection or better?” Len asked curiously.
“Might still be too dangerous…” Really, it was the nervous, almost fearful looks that had Len concerned. “
“Who the hell has you two acting like he’ll burst through the walls any second?”
Here is the masterlist for the Historical AU challenge. Thank you to everyone who participated!! You all did a wonderful job!!! I am still working thru the rest that were posted to late yesterday. So I will get those reblogged as soon as possible.
1. Renaissance
Vulnerable Masterpiece by @officialheroesofolympus Jim Kirk
2. Ancient Rome
Do Not Win On Luck by @daily-cup-of-writing Steve Rogers
With You by @omg-imagine Jim Kirk
3. Ancient Greece
Naxos by @shitty-imagines-95 Tony Stark
Winged Men and Demigods by @taylorjacksonandtheolympians Jim Kirk
4. 1600s: Witches, Colonists coming to the New World
A Family by @dontyouwishyouhadlove Stucky
Crucify Me by @travelwithwords Steve Rogers
5. The Golden Age of Piracy
Of Wings and Sirens by @bookcaseninja Jim Kirk
An Entire Ocean by @annathewitch Leonard McCoy
6. 1920s- Mafia (Robin Hood-esque) Flappers, speakeasy
Clover Cafe by @captainsbabysitter-blog McKirk
Mouthpiece or Otherwise by @rauliskafan Rafael Barba
7. Victorian Era
Will Love Win Out by @imoutofmyvulcanmind Leonard McCoy
8. Vikings
A Long Road to Happiness by @lt-sammi-matthews Steve Rogers
9. Revolutionary America
What Are We Fighting For? by @boldlywritingtrek Jim Kirk
10. Regency
A Painter’s Embrace/Part 2 by @tilltheendwilliwrite Steve Rogers
I Have Fallen Against My Will by @writefasttalkevenfaster Aaron Hotchner
11. Old West
Sheriff by @kaunis-sielu Steve Rogers
12. 1950s- Greasers/Bikers
Midnight Ride by @captain-rogers-beard Steve Rogers
13 Elizabethan Era
Hearts and Wars Long Won by @locke-writes Stucky
14. 1980s
Working as a Waitress by @4theluvofall Steve Rogers
15. Middle Ages
Lost and Found by @auduna-druitt McKirk
Author’s Note: Here is my entry for the Historical AU Challenge courtesy of the amazing @yourtropegirl!!! Imagine the SVU crew inside a 1920s speakeasy... and the reader has her sights set on a certain ADA nursing a drink in the corner. This was so different for me but also tons of fun!!! Enjoy!!!
“Looking good, Lovely.”
His name was Sonny. A tall, lanky gent from the other side of the tracks. He wore vests that fit his frame and pomade that belied his age. Were the few silver streaks real or part of the show he put on as he decided who came and went at your club?
"So speaks the spiffy sheik," you said. Passing him a few bills and patting his cheek, you gained entrance with ease.
The place... your place was a palace of archways where ice cold whiskey flowed, and saxophones sizzled from the stage. A dark man in white tails forgot to wail for a few seconds when he met your eyes and sauntered to the footlights.
“There's the best set of gams this side of the Hudson!” he said.
“Sweet, Fin,” you said. “Don’t stop on my account.”
“Had to see if there’s something else you want to hear,” he said. “Got any requests?”
You started to speak when you spotted the man of your hour for the first time that night. You’d seen him before. The Brooklyn lawyer by way of Manhattan. Never too proud to pop in for a drink. Word on the street was that he’d been by a lot as of late. And while the two of you had never exchanged a single word, you wanted to know more.
To know why.
“What’s it gonna be?” Fin asked.
“Let’s have a little I May Be Wrong.”
Naturally you hoped that you weren’t and showed Fin a smile when the song started. Listening to the notes that seemed to paint a path towards the farthest corner, you smoothed your hands down the sides of your beaded gown, your sights fixed on the man who downed another drink, his bow tie and vest askew while he listened to the music... and seemed sadder still. Wondering what had shifted in his section of the world, you inhaled a deep breath and---
"Care to be my luck charm tonight, Lovely?"
Your head snapped back, and you found yourself face to face with the brassy blonde in the short black fringe, sporting a feather in her hair.
"Amanda!" you cried, greeting her with a quick hug and peeking over her shoulder to see the chips on the table stacked in her favor. "Doesn't look like you need it. Someone hit a hot streak all on her own."
"Can never have too much of a good thing," she smirked back. "You in?" Tossing the dice between her fingers, you laughed and softly shook your head.
"Another time," you promised.
"I'll be here," she said, blowing on the cubes and tossing the game pieces to the felt.
"Another natural winner!" the dealer said when she rolled a seven even as no one spoke the word aloud. Amanda blew you a kiss, and you set back on your intended course...
...only to meet another interruption.
"How long you going to let that Dumb Dora keep it up?" Liv narrowed her eyes, and you rolled yours... as Amanda tossed the dice again to another wave of rapturous applause. The music grew louder, and the dance floor filled with swaying customers, drinks still in hand.
"How long are you going to play the bluenose, Liv?" you asked. "She's not hurting anyone."
"Tonight," Liv countered. "When it goes South, it's no easy task getting her to scram."
"Which is why I leave my joint in your more than capable hands," you said, touching her shoulder, your breath starting to catch in your throat when you saw your crush in the corner starting to shift in his seat. What was this? Was he getting ready to mooch?
"Last thing we need is another copper here," she said.
"Another?" you curiously asked.
"The sad sack," she said, pointing the man in the rumpled suit who seemed certain to fade if you didn't move fast.
"He's no copper," you said. "Call Sonny if you need help."
"If he's not chatting up a chippy when he should be watching the door," Liv frowned.
"Olivia!" you said, raising your voice as she took a step back. You patted her arms and forced a smile. "Have a drink. Cool it with the heebie jeebies."
"I don't drink on the job," she said.
"Which makes you the right dame for some things and a flat tire for others."
Taking the hint, she finally let you pass, and you raced forward just in time to see the man on his feet.
And you quickly reached for his arm.
"Hey! Going somewhere?"
He seemed stunned by your touch, and you thought you saw the smallest of smiles before his face fell and his shoulders sagged.
"Fancy meeting you here," he said, his speech slightly slurred. Which sent a rush of blood from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.
"Well it is my gin mill," you said. "And someone seems to like the scenery.”
"Someone needed a drink," he said.
"Makes sense," you said, easing him back to his seat and heaving a sigh of relief when he sat even as he hung his head. “Man in your line of work.”
"I'm on the lam," he said.
"Oh?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as he scrubbed a single hand over his face, tapping his other set of fingers on the tabletop. Fin switched to another song as the dance changed to rocking feet and swinging arms.
"Yes, I..." He stopped short, shaking his head and looking like he wanted to leave again.
"It'd bore you," he said.
"Try me," you challenged, daring to reach for his hand, liking the feel of his long fingers lacing with yours as he slowly lifted his head to meet your eyes.
"What do you think you know about me?" he asked.
"The basics," you replied. "You're a mouthpiece. You like your hooch."
"The two aren't mutually exclusive," he said.
"Thank God for that or the place wouldn't be packed every night."
You felt his palm relax a little in yours, but you waited and watched him, strands of swirling smoke from every lit gasper making him look like a man born in the mist, trying to break free from the haze...
...or possibly fall back into it?
"So what's the scoop?" you asked. "Some gumshoe crumb the play? Or a canary didn't sing?"
"No," he continued. "Can't lay this at anyone else's feet. This... this is all on me."
For a fleeting second, you wondered what he might have done? Was he a fakeloo or something far worse? All you had to do was whistle once, and Liv would make her way to your side. No need for Sonny; she could toss him out on her own if the man had dirt or something deeper, redder embedded about his soul.
"Do... do you know what happens to a man in my line of work when he drops the dime?"
"Isn't that the kind of thing you want?" you carefully asked. "Someone to inform on the bad eggs?"
"Not what happened here," he said. You could sense him wanting to say so much more when he clammed up and said he needed to drift.
"Rafael?"
It was the first time that you uttered his name aloud, having spoken it in your sleep, waking with the syllables and a smile still on your lips.
"You know my name," he said.
"Gotta keep the clientele straight," you said. "Something you want to talk about?"
Again, he looked like he wanted to spill, but you could sense his hesitation as the crowd grew, and Amanda roared after she rolled a Hard 10 for another point. He would be a goner if you didn't...
"Come with me."
Keeping a firm hold on his hand, you led him away from the song and the smoke until you hit the first available backroom. He hesitated when you patted the space beside you on the plush velvet couch, and you held your breath until he finally sat.
"Better?" you asked.
"A little," he said. "But... I mean I could use another---"
"I always carry a spare," you smiled. Reaching for your garter belt, you unveiled a flask and saw his green eyes grow wide when you took a sip before passing the bottle his way.
"Share and share alike," you said.
"You keep the prime merchandise for yourself?" he asked.
"I drink the same as my customers," you said, wanting to take offense. But in a different light he seemed so earnest, miles away from all wet. And playing the high hat was far from your style.
"Imbibe, Mr. ADA," you urged.
"Not for much longer," he said with a swift sip.
"Seriously?”
“I shouldn’t---”
“Come on. You going to get a wiggle on or what?"
You punctuated each word with one hand stroking his thigh and bit your lower lip until he took a deep breath.
And the words poured out.
"There was this kid," he started. "Skinny as a rail. Not a match to strike. And he... he robbed a place very much like this."
"Really," you carefully said. "Why would that be a bad thing? Thought it might help your sort out."
"Not when the fella running that joint is in the DA's back pocket," he said. "So they want to make this kid the fall guy for a whole lot of things that he played no part in. Makes the medicine go down easier for everyone."
"But not sitting right with you," you said.
"Sticks right in my craw," he confessed. "They gave me a choice; play the pushover or be put out to pasture."
"And someone selected the latter," you knowingly said, realizing that it was more than the way he looked with a glass in hand. You were nothing if not a good judge of character, and this man, mouthpiece or otherwise, was the cat's meow because he was a darb in a world of double-crosses.
"I'm sorry," you said, taking his hand again. "But it's just ducky that you came here to get fried."
"Not quite half seas over yet," he said. "Getting there."
"Gives us more time to talk," you said.
"What about?"
Where to start? He'd hit your heart on all sixes the second you laid eyes on him. Joe Brooks with It and so much more in your juice joint. The man knew his onions, the Real McCoy when it came to conscience and compassion. You wanted that in your life. To see where it led. To taste a different flavor than the swells who might take you for a ride, the torpedoes you had to dodge more often than not. But first things first; let him see that you were on the level, that this was a chance for something special. And if the middle aisle was in the cards down the line...?
"Rafael, how'd you like to work for me?" you asked.
"You?" he echoed.
"Could use someone hip to the jive. And before you object, know this; I've had an earful of the cats you described. On both sides of the cooler. Wouldn't you love to find a way to beat them all at their own game?"
You watched him mull over the proposition. Would he take the bait? Or give you the bum's rush?
"They... they call you Lovely, right?"
"My friends do. Are we friends, Rafael?"
Finishing the flask, he passed it back into your free hand and finally flashed a full smile.
Warnings: Mentions of violence, sex, and infidelity. Set in Ancient Rome.
Words: 3,491
A/N: This is for @yourtropegirl’s historical AU challenge! It’s the first challenge and AU that I’ve done and had so much fun writing it. Like most of my stories, there is a lot of angst but it won’t last for long.
The final battle–this was it.
For months, you've watched the strongest and fiercest of men fight to win their freedom. It was a favorite source of entertainment for the Romans, which you could never find any enjoyment in.
The games were barbaric. The agonizing screams of those gladiators and the images of them taking their last breath haunted you in your dreams every night, and there was nothing that you could do. Your husband was the emperor, and organizing those games brought the most profit to the city. Thousands of people would travel from other cities and gather together in the Colosseum where the contests were held.
Never would you have thought that your life would be like this. You were still young and had big dreams. You had the spirit of adventure and have always wanted to explore new lands, those beyond the city’s walls.
However, fate had a much more different plan for you.
The games were to start in less than an hour or so, and you were seated high with a full view of the arena down below. As you reveled in the calmed silence, you looked up to the great heavens above. The hue of the sky instantly reminded you of the bluest eyes you've ever seen.
He would be out there soon, you thought. Live or die, you came to realize that today would be the last time you'll see him.
The moonlight highlighted the soft features of his resting face. The old battle scars have now faded and though he seemed weary, you thought about how beautiful he still was.
“Staring again, (Y/N)?” He whispered and as his eyes fluttered open. “You’re awake.”
“I am,” you replied, nuzzling closer to his warmth and delighted by the feeling of his arms wrapping around your body. “Haven’t been able to sleep.”
“I wonder why,” he teased, pressing intoxicating kisses down your neck while you sighed deeply. He paused for a moment to prop himself up on one elbow, his fingers brushing the stray hairs away from your face. “What’s on your mind?”
You bit your tongue in response. Ever since your secret rendezvous with Jim began, you understood that there were risks involved. If word went out that you were being unfaithful and sleeping with a gladiator, you would be exiled or even worse–killed.
Yet, you threw caution to the wind. You were willing to forget about the consequences just to be with Jim. For six months, you would sneak out of your villa and meet Jim in a small forgotten cabin by the edge of the city. There, the two of you made love as if you were the only ones left in the world.
“It’s my husband,” you finally answered in a quiet voice. “He’s returning tomorrow night and I’m not sure I will be able to see you as often anymore.”
Jim cupped the side of your face and gave you a tender smile. “I understand. This was bound to happen.”
“I don’t want to be with him,” you revealed. “There is no love between him and me.”
It was the truth. Your marriage to Cassius was arranged and you had no say in it. Your parents craved wealth and power and decided that it was best for their child to marry someone for riches rather than for love. Though you lived a lavish lifestyle, something was always missing and you were never truly happy.
“I know,” Jim said, kissing your tears away as he held you close. “Until then, you are with me. We will find a way to be together, (Y/N). I'll win my freedom and I'll take you away from this wretched land, I promise."
You caught a glimpse of Jim strapping his armor on in one corner of the arena. Beads of sweat dripped down his toned arms as he fastened his metal breastplate before picking up a rustic gold helmet nearby. He drew out his sword, inspecting the sharpness of the blade which shone under the bright sun.
You silently wished he could see you from where he stood. You haven’t seen him since a few nights ago and you were missing him terribly.
“It's difficult, isn't it?” asked Lavinia, your husband’s daughter from a previous marriage.
“What is?” You wondered.
“Loving someone you can't have,” she clarified, taking the seat next to yours. You were ready to feign shock at her observation, but it was no use. “I know about your relationship with the slave.”
“Please do not tell your father. He will kill him.”
Lavinia smiled sadly and placed a comforting hand on your back. She was about the same age as you, maybe even slightly older by a year or two. She understood how her father was and felt sorry when you were forced to marry him. Yet since unwillingly becoming a part of the family, Lavinia became a confidant and you trusted her.
“I won't, do not worry,” she reassured. “I once had a love, and my father disapproved of him. We never got the chance to be together after my father banished him from Rome.”
“I’ve heard that story around the villa. I am sorry,” you said and silence washed over the both of you before you spoke again. “I did have him, Lavinia. I loved him but I had to let him go.”
You sighed and held back the tears. It was becoming too difficult to convince yourself that those kisses and touches meant nothing to you. You kept saying that what you felt for the gladiator was far from love, but as much as you tried to believe your own words, you just couldn’t.
“(Y/N), do you love him?”
Her question caught you off guard and you pretended to not have heard. But when Lavinia repeated herself, all you could do was give her an honest nod.
“Would you risk everything to be with James again?”
You stared at your hands resting on your lap. The answer was on the tip of your tongue, and you couldn't bring yourself to say it out loud.
“I came here as fast as I could,” Jim said as he shut the door behind him. “What's the matter?”
“I-I can't…” you stuttered, and he held your hands in his. “Jim…”
“Yes?”
He gazed into your eyes and for just one second, you forgot why you were there in the first place.
You couldn't bear it. You would be breaking his heart as well as yours, but it was for the best. You were concerned about his safety and after deciding that this was the only way to protect him, it didn't matter how hurt you were going to be.
“I am ending this,” you responded. “We are through.”
Jim briefly stared at you and shook his head. “What do you mean? I'm about to win my freedom in the upcoming battle and we’re going to run away like we promised.”
“Plans have changed, James,” you stated with regret. “Win your freedom and leave the city. I can't see you anymore.”
“You’re serious? (Y/N), please do not joke. Is Cassius forcing you to do this?”
Shaking your head, you took a step back. “No, he's not.”
The lie caused an ache in your chest, one that you tried to ignore as you continued on. “I'm sorry, Jim. This was all a mistake. We were both foolish to have acted on our lust.”
“You don't mean that. (Y/N), just two nights ago, you said that you love me.”
“I don't,” you quickly shot back and it pained you even more. “I don't love you. I've never had. My husband was away for months and I was looking for another man to bed with during his absence.”
Jim’s lip tightened and you could see his tears starting to fall. “No, I don't believe it. You and I felt the same thing during the time we were together. Do not deny it.”
You wanted to run into his arms and wipe his tears away. The fact that you were the reason for his heartache didn't sit well with you, and you were almost ready to take your words back.
But it had to be done. It was the only way to keep him safe until the final battle.
Your feet shuffled towards the door, and just before exiting, you spoke to him one last time. “Love can blind a person from the other’s true intentions. I am sorry that your judgment was clouded, but please understand that our affair meant nothing more.”
The game began with a fifty living and breathing men ready to rip each other apart, and by the second hour–only three remained. One by one, Jim executed those who came after him. Though you wanted to turn away from the bloodshed, you needed to know that he’s able to make it out alive.
He’s a survivor, you reminded yourself. He has survived many games as intense as this one, he could certainly survive another.
“My love,” your husband appeared after being gone during most of the event. “You seem very invested in this more than usual.”
“It’s intense,” you simply replied, your eyes not leaving Jim’s form.
“I suppose it is. That gladiator James is on the path to freedom so they say. If he wins this battle, I am told to grant his freedom.”
Glancing over to Cassius, you noticed him studying you. “And will you?”
“Of course, I don’t see why not.”
You let out a sigh of relief and brought your focus back to the game. It wasn’t until you heard your husband muttering something under his breath that you turned to him once more.
“What did you say?”
Cassius smirked. “I said ‘if he makes it to the end will I grant his freedom.’”
“What do you mean?” You asked with a nervous chuckle that you didn't intend to come out. “He always makes it to the end. He’s one of the strongest men out there in the arena. Those two others don’t stand a chance. You might as well end the fight now and give him his freedom because it’s inevitable.”
Cassius shot you a look before leaning back against his seat. “I couldn’t care less about those two unfortunate men. They aren’t the grand finale to this man’s story.”
“What is it then?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You are asking too many questions, dear.”
“This is the last one, I promise.”
“Well, I've arranged a bit of a surprise at the end for our warrior James. I met him during my last travel.”
You suddenly felt uneasy in your seat. Something wrong was about to happen but you haven't got the slightest clue.
All of a sudden, the crowd cheered and stood on their feet when Jim drove his sword through the last man standing–making him the last man standing.
You were so overjoyed, close to bursting into tears but you had to remain calm. You weren't supposed to care the slightest about Jim. You breathed in and out, trying to control your emotions.
He's done it. He's free.
You looked to your left and saw Cassius grinning to himself. He stayed in his seat and you wondered what was taking him so long. He should have been up there already announcing the victor’s name and awarding him with the freedom as promised.
The gate opened up once again, and a large man emerged. You could see the bloodlust in his eyes and the strength and power he had just by the way he gripped the sword in his hand. He was almost beast-like, and he towered over Jim, slowly approaching him with a menacing face.
“His name is Adam of Ephesus, and he is as ruthless as they come. He’s quite a match for James,” Cassius noted, your eyes widening. “Let the final round begin.”
“N-No,” you stuttered. “It can't be. You can't do this!”
“And why not?” Cassius snarled. “You think I'm ignorant? Do you really believe that I would never find out and let you get away with this?”
That's when you realized what he meant by Jim's “grand finale.” Looking below, you saw the two circling each other.
You felt powerless as the fight continued. Jim was exhausted at this point. He had already used up most of his energy and strength earlier, and he would need to recuperate for a while to be able to fight Adam.
For the first time since the battle has started, Jim glanced up at the audience, his eyes searching in the sea of people for yours. Once he meets your attentive gaze, you felt that very same spark you did on the day you first met.
It was a goodbye. He was saying his goodbye.
As the fight went on, Adam quickly gained the upper hand. Jim’s sword was knocked out of his hand and he was left to shield himself from Adam’s powerful thrusts. As Adam raised his sword, Jim ducked and charged towards his lower half, effectively knocking the bigger man down as he quickly retrieved his sword.
When Jim turned around, however, Adam’s closed fist struck his head and he fell on the hard ground. Adam kicked his sword away from Jim’s reach and held him by his throat, growling as the weakened man attempted to free himself from his grasp. Adam then decided against strangling Jim to death and instead, threw him across the arena where he landed with a loud thud.
Jim was bleeding profusely. Despite the broken bones and the deep wounds, Jim attempted to get up once more. But it was impossible for him to do so, he struggled miserably while Adam approached him with a boisterous laugh.
He was going to die. You were about to lose him forever.
Your mind thought back to Lavinia’s question earlier that you couldn't seem to answer before. Would you risk everything to be with James again?
Yes, you admitted to yourself. Yes, yes, yes.
You loved Jim, and he loved you. You didn’t want him to die, you didn’t want to see him die. It would haunt you forever and you knew you would never be able to sleep at night with the memory of Jim, the love of your life, dying right in front of you.
There was one thing you could do, you mused. It was risky, but with Jim, you were willing to take any risk.
You shut your eyes tight and prayed to all the gods for enough strength and courage needed to do what you were about to do.
When you reopened them, you stood up from your seat with much determination. Cassius noticed and yelled for you return to his side at once. You shook your head without turning to face him. You stared at the enormous crowd, who all fell silent when you were in view.
“Do not do something that you will regret, (Y/N),” Cassius warned.
“I won't regret any of this,” you whispered to yourself, looking past your shoulder and meeting your husband’s hateful eyes. “We will find a way together.”
Your gaze returned to the front where Adam was seconds from ending Jim's life. You held a thumbs up out to the crowd, signaling for the fight to cease and to let the love of your life live.
The whole crowd gasped and stared at you. You didn’t know how to react to the complete silence and stillness of the atmosphere. Yet, as you stood tall in front of your people after going against your husband, you could only think about one thing.
“Jim,” you murmured.
He lifted his head up and looked at you. You saw him mouth your name just before he fell unconscious and Cassius dragged you away from the spectators’ view.
Despite the uncertainty of your future, you knew you spared Jim’s life today. And as promised, you two would find a way.
Cassius had you locked up in the same cabin where you would spend the nights with Jim.
For three days, you were plagued with questions. You didn’t know what was going to happen next and you started to second guess whether or not the decision you made was the right one.
You weren’t sure about Jim’s well-being after the fight. The last time you saw him, he was in bad shape and Cassius wouldn’t tell you if he had survived his injuries. If he did, you wondered if you sentenced him to a far worse fate. Cassius would have surely punished Jim in a gruesome way if he had made it out of that arena alive.
You settled into the cot in the middle of the cabin. Jim’s faint scent still lingered in the bed sheets, and you were overwhelmed with the feeling of despair. He could either be alive and well or just another carcass dumped in an unmarked grave. You didn’t know.
“(Y/N)?”
You thought you were hallucinating. A knock and a voice similar to Jim's sounded, but you felt as though it was just your mind playing tricks. Closing your eyes for a minute or two, another persistent knock on the door jolted you awake.
Moving to the front door, you heard keys jingling on the other side. The door slowly swung open and at first, all you saw were the shadows of a man and a woman. They stepped out of the darkness and into the villa, and that’s when you were greeted by those unmistakable blue eyes.
“Jim?”
Again, you weren’t entirely sure if this was real. But when Jim reached out to cup the side of your face, tracing the edges of your quivering lips, you realized that it was truly him.
“It’s me,” he said as he held you. “You spared me.”
“I did,” you uttered. “I thought you were going to die. I was about to lose you.”
“I am here now,” he replied and you reached up to kiss him. You poured everything into that single kiss–all of your emotions, your fears, your worries, and your regrets. You knew it wasn’t enough to show him how much you loved him, but it was definitely enough to let him know that you did.
“I love you, James,” you breathed and he looked at you as though you were the light of his life. “I didn't mean those words I said a couple nights ago. I had to let you go. I had to give you up because Cassius was becoming suspicious and–”
Jim pressed a finger against your lips. “Shh, I know. You do not need to explain yourself because I understand.”
Instead of responding with more words, you pulled him down for another kiss and he was more than happy to oblige.
A cough in the background caused you both to pull apart and that’s when you noticed Lavinia standing nearby. “I apologize for interrupting but we do need to go before the guards come to check up on you.”
“You’re helping us?” you questioned.
Jim took your hands into his. “She is. Cassius is planning on executing me tomorrow morning and Lavinia was able to sneak me out of my cell. We managed to evade the guards and rushed here to come get you.”
“You went against Cassius,” you pointed out in surprise.
“Of course,” Lavinia declared. “I am tired of my father tearing others away from their loved ones. I want you two to have the chance that I’ve never had. I’ve arranged for you safe passage on a ship that leaves in two hours. It will take you someplace far where you can have a fresh start.”
“Lavinia,” you cried as you rushed to hug her. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“It’s my way of honoring my dear lost love. I may not have had a happy ending, but at least you will. Now, let’s go. We have no time to waste. I’ll go on ahead and make sure there is no one around.”
With that, Lavinia exited the villa, leaving you alone with Jim.
“I can’t believe it,” you muttered. “We’re actually doing this.”
Jim grinned as he gave you a kiss on the top of your head. “We are, (Y/N). I promised that I would take you away from this wretched land. We can finally have our own new beginning and explore the lands we have not known before. It will be an adventure–one that we will have together.”
You smiled at him. With Jim, you didn’t need all the riches and all the jewels of the land. You didn’t need a picturesque villa that had a perfect view of the sunrise and sunset. You didn’t need to become the envy of all others because of the life you were given.
All you needed was James, the gladiator who stole your heart, and your entire world was complete.
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?”
