#warlord steve

Tony is so used to Thiiv basically ignoring him beyond short, one-sided conversations and sleeping at night, that when Thiiv grabs him during supper and kisses him, he makes a high-pitched sound and drops his bowl of stew. And then when the rest of the group around the fire laughs at his reaction, he gets up and scampers back to Thiiv’s tent, flushed bright red and burning with humiliation, wondering if he’ll ever be able to face any of them again. He immediately goes inside and cowers in the furthest corner, mind racing.

Thiiv’s never kissed him before. He hadn’t believed Thiiv would want to kiss him. He realizes, suddenly, how incredibly naïve he’d been and how comfortable he’d gotten with the status quo—Thiiv had only touched him lightly before, like Tony was an especially skittish bird, allowing him to turn away from his touch if he felt uncomfortable and taking every frown or flinch as indication to stop. Maybe Thiiv’s grown impatient. It’s been an awfully long time since he’d parlayed for their assistance, and Thiiv… is a healthy young man.

Yes, now that Tony thinks about it, Thiiv must be growing frustrated. Tony had promised him a body to use, and Tony hasn’t been allowing him to have it. Thiiv must be tried of waiting and is finally annoyed enough to just take. Tony should just be glad that he’s had as long as he has to settle in and get used to the nomadic tribe’s ways before he was taken, so he knows who to go to in the morning for poultices and potions.

Tony wishes, desperately, that he hadn’t listened to the Jarvises in his youth and had done more than feverishly pet over clothes with partners. Perhaps if he’d been a bit more experienced, he would be more prepared for what will happen to him. But, he decides, sitting up straight. It was what he’d promised Thiiv. He’d be breaking the deal if he refused Thiiv’s attention. He hadn’t even put any conditions on it, so if Thiiv wanted to… to do that in front of his comrades, that was his right, too. Tony will apologize for running like a frightened hare when he sees Thiiv. After all, he probably hadn’t done him any favors, leaving him there to the delighted jeering of his people.

.-.-.-.

Thiiv comes in a few hours later, when it’s dark and the talk around the fires has quieted in favor of music and dancing. He lingers in the entrance for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, looking large and fearsome with the fires crackling at his back. Tony hadn’t lit the lanterns inside. He doesn’t want Thiiv to see how nervous he is, especially after what had happened at supper.

“Toyny?” Thiiv asks uncertainly, letting the flaps fall closed behind him.

“Stheve,” Tony says, for lack of anything else. He doesn’t know many of their words yet, and none of the ones he does know seem appropriate.

Thiiv approaches him slowly, curses softly when he knocks over something, and then reaches out to finally light one of the lamps with quick fingers. Tony flinches a little, but he hopes Thiiv doesn’t notice it as his eyes adjust to the dim light. He’s already on the sleeping platform, clothes discarded but undershirt and shorts still in place. He doesn’t have a lot of clothes, and he’d been afraid that Thiiv, impassioned, would have ripped them off of him. He swallows thickly when Thiiv turns his gaze on him again, clasping his shaking hands under the furs so Thiiv won’t be offended by how frightened he is.

“Toyny,” Thiiv murmurs, and reaches out to cup his cheeks.

Tony leans into his hands, eyes fluttering shut. Thiiv’s touch is still just as gentle as ever. Maybe it takes him a minute to get worked up, to want to grab and take. Tony can’t help the shaky breath he lets out when he feels Thiiv’s lips brush over his, surprisingly tentative for a man who takes what he wants in battle. He wonders if it’s been a while for Thiiv, if he’s being slow because he knows Tony’s frightened or if he’s afraid he might hurt him in his passion. He certainly hasn’t been bedding Tony, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t take his pleasures elsewhere while Tony learns how to weave bandages and mix poultices from the other non-fighters in the camp during the day.

The kiss is slow and soft until it isn’t, and Tony gasps, trembling, as Thiiv tilts his head just so, takes control of the kiss and delves his tongue into his mouth. He tastes like the stew Tony abandoned in mortification, and tobacco, with a hint of honeyed mead. Tony mewls helplessly, reaching up to grab Thiiv’s shoulders, gasping when Thiiv breaks the kiss to nip and suck at his jaw and throat.

“Stheve,” Tony whimpers, voice shaking, as Thiiv lets his hands drift down from his cheeks, fingers trailing lightly over his throat before he follows them with his lips and teeth.

Thiiv sighs out a word before he goes back to his ministrations, and Tony has no idea if it’s good or bad, but he desperately hopes it’s good, because he doesn’t want to disappoint Thiiv after Thiiv has been so patient. He cries out when Thiiv reaches down to yank the furs off of him, instinctively reaching to cover himself, but Thiiv just gathers his wrists in one hand and holds them above his head, moving back up to devour his mouth as his other hand pushes his shirt up to his armpits, fingers grazing over his nipples as he kisses him.

Tony trembles beneath him, trying to kiss back, hoping his eyes don’t look as hot with frightened tears as they feel. Perhaps it’s dim enough that Thiiv won’t notice, or maybe he just won’t care. Tony had promised Thiiv that he could use him however and whenever he pleased, and Thiiv clearly pleases to use him now.

Still, he can’t help the frightened flinch when Thiiv’s free hand roams down to cup between his legs, palm rubbing against his cock, fingertips trailing between his cheeks in search. He can’t help the way his body clenches up with terror, or the way his thighs clamp together to protect himself, as useless as it may be. He can’t help the mortified keen that escapes his lips when Thiiv leans back to stare down at him in confusion, or the tear that rolls down his cheek.

Thiiv stares at him as if struck dumb, but finally he manages to whisper, “Gy xoj?”

Tony cringes at the words, unable to help feeling ashamed because of the weight clearly being wielded in them. He knows them, unfortunately, words that have dripped into Common slang and taken root for lack of better words among the serfs, and while the words still shock and discomfort him, he had no choice but to learn them as Jarvis and Ana tried desperately to teach him how not to be royalty. ‘Xoj’ translated literally into ‘fruit,’ typically a juicy one, like a cherry or a peach or a plum. ‘Gy’ had a little more nuance to it, didn’t really translate directly; but ultimately, in conjunction with xoj, it meant ‘ripe, untouched, ready for picking.’ It had apparently, at one point, been used only in agriculture, letting the fruit hang until they were ready to be plucked for greatest profit.

In slang, though, it had changed to mean ‘fruit yet to be picked,’ or ‘virgin,’ and the way Thiiv’s face is quickly falling, brows furrowing together with anger, he’s unhappy with that fact.

Thiiv lets go of him as if his touch had burned him, and Tony can’t help but cover himself again, pulling his undershirt back down and the furs back up as Thiiv leaps backward off the bed. He turns and storms to the flaps of his tent, pulling them open to bellow, “SAM!”

Sam appears almost immediately, looking concerned, and he says something to Thiiv, but is cut off by Thiiv going into a tirade. His eyes grow as big as saucers as he looks between Thiiv and Tony, but he says nothing until Thiiv finally slows down, takes a deep, gulping breath and then lets it back out. He waits for Thiiv to catch his breath before entering the tent and approaching Tony.

Tony pulls the furs up tighter miserably, wondering if Thiiv is going to rescind the deal and tell him to go please his men instead, or if he’ll just wash his hands of the whole thing and send him home like a disobedient child.

“Thiiv thinks you did yourself an injustice,” Sam says gently.

Tony sniffles, confused, and lifts a hand to wipe his eyes. “Huh?”

“It’s one thing to have the prince of the land he’s about to conquer under him,” Sam explains, not unkindly. “It’s quite another to be the first to take him.” When Tony only continues to weep, uncomprehending, he continues, “In Thiiv’s culture, the right of being someone’s chosen first is a gift. Had he known he would be your first…” He looks Tony up and down, then shrugs, smiling helplessly. “He thought you were just shy. And he won’t admit it, but he’s embarrassed, for having not asked for more details about your experience. He thought you were afraid because you’ve never bedded a stranger before, not that you hadn’t bedded anyone at all.”

“I didn’t think it was important,” Tony admits, sniffling. “I was always going to be his to do with as he wished, to use as he saw fit.”

Sam’s smile falls. “If you didn’t want it, Tony, Thiiv would never have forced you.”

“But it was part of the deal,” Tony says helplessly. “My body in exchange for him killing Obadiah Stane.”

Sam looks exasperated and tired all at once, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. Thiiv nudges him impatiently, looking between him and Tony, and Tony realizes that Thiiv hasn’t understood a word of what they’ve said.

With how livid he looks when Sam translates, Tony thinks maybe it was better that he hadn’t. He says something so acidly that Sam takes a step back in shock, then turns on his heel and storms from the tent, muttering under his breath.

“…Wow,” Sam murmurs, rubbing the back of his head, then sighs and turns back toward Tony. “He says he’ll honor his side of the deal, but he wants no part in yours if that’s how you really feel about it. He’d like you to stay in the tent with the healers from now on.”

“Oh,” Tony says, and wonders why he feels so hollow when he thinks he should feel glad. “Okay.”

“For what it’s worth,” Sam adds. “I think you should do whatever you want to.”

Tony wants to fulfill his end of the bargain, wants to feel like he’s doing something instead of just being a parasite that soaks up resources, but Thiiv had looked… he’d looked so angry. And above all, Tony wants Stane to pay for what he’s done, so he’ll have to stay on Thiiv’s good side. And if Thiiv wants him out of his tent? Out of his tent he’ll go.

This plot bunny got away from me lol:

Prince Tony is an Omega but has a younger (twin) brother Prince Gregory who is Alpha and in accordance with their laws the Alpha inherits first. Tony gets wind of the fact that he’s going to be married off to an older Alpha to secure a political alliance (Obie? Pierce??) and is Not Happy About This. His bodyguard Rhodey and manservant Jarvis help smuggle Tony out of the capital while faking his suicide (Oh no, the Prince has thrown himself into the sea from the highest tower in his despair! No sir, I swear no one came in or out of that room. I have faaaaailed in my duty to the Prince, woe is me!). Tony sets out for the distant land of Wakanda because a, Wakanda has the most skilled metallurgists and smiths in the world b, equal Omega rights c, Tony has been penpals with Princess Shuri since an official state visit in their childhood so he’s fairly sure he can wrangle asylum there.

On the way there however he has to cross territories controlled by Warlord Steve and shenanigans ensue. Tony gets himself in trouble with his big mouth and in order to get himself out of being sold into a brothel/mine/galley slavery he reveals his royal heritage. Tony is taken before Steve and Tony resigns himself to being shipped home in exchange for a hefty ransom. However, when Steve meets a hot, feisty Omega who just told him to sit on a flagpole in five different languages it’s obviously love at first sight (let’s face it, Steve has the self-preservation instincts of a lemming). So Steve declares that he will marry this Omega and because a, Steve has a type and b, under their laws the oldest child inherits regardless of designation so if Tony’s claim is real then that gives Steve (and future children) a legitimate claim to Howard’s throne.

Chapters: 16/31 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Tony Stark/T'Challa, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Other Marvel Characters, Nebula (Marvel), Friday (Marvel), T'Challa (Marvel) Additional Tags: whumptober 2019, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Kidnapping, Tony Angst, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Tony Stark Feels, Not Beta Read, False Accusations, Terrorism, Aftermath of Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Canon Divergence - Iron Man 3, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Misunderstandings, Time Travel, Tony Stark Has A Heart, One Shot Collection, (Or is it?), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, BAMF Tony Stark, Domestic Fluff, Omega Tony, Arranged Marriage, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Genie Tony Stark, Djinni & Genies, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Tony-centric Summary:

look. life is bad. everyones sad. we're all gona die. but i alredy bought this inflatable boumcy castle so are u gona take ur shoes off or wat -- jomny sun

"Whumptober" fic in which Tony has a... less than ideal time. Each chapter is completely, for sure, 100% unrelated.

(Right?)

'Verses Featured So Far:

{See index for complete list}

Chapter Sixteen: Pinned Down (A/B/O Warlord!Steve/Tony )

+++ A hulking figure filled the doorway. He was the burliest Alpha Tony had ever seen. On the man’s chest was an all-too-familiar celtic knot. A buzzing, staticky hum filled Tony's ears. This was it, then. His fated soul-bound.

(“The universe itself knows you were born for this.”)

A finished Warlord Steve and prize Tony for @sabrecmc because they have The Best ideas ♡