A Bond Can be a Blessing
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The insistent droplets leaking from the worn faucet grew closer to driving you towards insanity. And if that wasn’t enough, your neighbor's dog had taken to clawing at the thin wall separating the two of you and whining loudly whenever you so much as blinked. Living in this tiny place was so much of a hassle sometimes, but you didn’t have it in you just yet to move out. This had been your refuge, your home and resting place for so many years of fighting to keep yourself off the streets with no parents to watch after you.Every scrap of food had to be earned back then, every article of used clothing was savored and stored, and every night you thanked a higher power for having a roof over your head even if that roof groaned when it rained too hard.
“Ugh,” You groaned softly, the combined leak and dog chatter finally driving you to do something about it. Your cracked phone screen showed 8:30pm glaring up at you in the fading light peeking in through your loose drapes. Not too late to head out for a small walk and maybe a quick stop at the nearby market to stock up on more ice cream, the only treat able to appease you from this less than stellar mood. Ignoring the pup yapping away, you slid off of your small, creaky bed and reached down to pick up an abandoned red and black sweater to combat the chilly outdoors. Tugging it over your (h/l), (h/c) tresses, you finger combed your hair as you stalked out of your bedroom and down the little hallway to the front door. You squatted down after the quick hair maintenance and pulled on your black converse, a pair of black tights snug around your waist. After tying the laces, you straightened up and pulled your keys off the hook hanging by the door, bracing yourself before opening your door to face the cold.
The frigid wind kisses your cheeks affectionately, but you’re much too lazy to go back inside to find something warmer. You hear the barking suddenly close in to the apartment door beside you and shake your head while managing a soft laugh. From a different perspective, you couldn’t be too upset with the little dog; her owner was always working and almost never home. You pondered on it as you made a left and headed towards the elevators. Maybe you could offer to pet sit some time and give the dog some attention it probably craved.
And in some ways, you could relate. Neglected, almost unwanted, really. The depressing truth is that you are alone, or as alone as you allow yourself to be. Friends are hard to come by with where you live and your lack of status in the lowly Brooklyn slums. Your job is low paying and there is much more you want to do, so many places you want to see, and maybe the chance to find the name you seldom look at anymore. Even now, as the cold sweeps past your small stature, that small inkling of wonder is back. You never found your Bonded, or they never found you. Not when you were begging and pleading over some nonexistent link to save you from your father. Not when your mother used up your college fund for her unhealthy drinking habits, or when a torn ACL ruined any chance you had of becoming something worthwhile. Your soul mate never rode up on a white horse to rescue you; after a while, you stopped listening to the bullshit in Bonding Studies class at school. You didn’t believe in it, didn’t need it. Everything you were ever given, you had to fight for with everything in your heart and soul. There was no special someone to help you, to save you from your wretched world.
And you no longer hated them, whoever they were. No, hate had long since burned away to sadness which melted into quiet resignation. The name was still very much there, an empty mark to you now. Clint wouldn’t want you anyway, you were sure of it. You slipped into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor, watching the doors close slowly. Whoever this Clint is, he’s fucking lucky that he missed out on dealing with you and your excessive baggage and shitty attitude, which were horrible attributes for an omega to possess. You lean against the back wall of the small space as the elevator shudders and lowers, the dulled numbers in the top left corner decreasing until you made it to the ground level. You step out and head across the lobby to exit through the side door.
It is darker than you thought, but there are enough dimly lit street lamps to guide your way along the sidewalk. The night is cold, dark, with a sense of emptiness you try your best to ignore. It is quiet save for the wind whisking by and whipping your hair back gently, and although it is lonely, there is a sweet relief to it as well. You take in a deep breath, your heightened senses picking up on the sweet scent of cookies from the closed bakery down the street, a mixing of alphas, omegas, and betas alike all jumbled up with the heady scent of nature. It smells better than the dank dampness of your apartment by far. You gaze across a few run-down apartment complexes in the distance, able to make them out with your nocturnal vision. Still, you would have preferred it better if the city finally got around to renovating your part of town as promised. Taking in a deep breath, you walked at a slow gait, not really paying attention to much around you.
It was the first mistake, or was it the third? Your first mistake was leaving at such a late hour under the cover of darkness. Omega Rights had progressed enough for alphas and betas to respect boundaries and do the proper courting, but if an Omega were to suddenly be forcibly bonded to someone they shouldn’t be with, well, there wasn’t much anyone would try to do. It was an unfair, unjust system that leaned toward alpha hierarchy. Being an omega would always put you at risk and a higher disadvantage than a beta by far. Your second mistake was not taking any precautions. You lived in a super sketchy part of town, that was obvious, but your taser lay abandoned under your pillow. You had taken enough taekwondo to be effective, but you were smaller than most, and if a group of larger alphas were to attack, it would be harder to fend them off. You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings or the scent markers left behind, or the fact that there is a constant scent here under the guise of wind. If you were more aware, then you would have picked up on the tangy musk of an alpha nearby, stalking you as you walked along.
When the stench finally reaches you, it causes a ripple of unease to rush through you and you subtly picked up your pace, trying to remain calm and in control. Whoever it was would get their ass handed to them thoroughly if they so much as touched you. A beacon faintly in the distance made you sigh in relief because it meant that the market was close at hand and you could finally calm down. But no- the smell is growing closer, more pungent despite you not hearing any footsteps. The moment you realize the danger is already here, a large, calloused hand is wrapping around your wrist with enough force to crush your bones. You hold in the gasp, bite back the pain, and attempt to twist out of the hold.
“You try to run and I’ll kill you. I want all of your money.” Oh God, it was the worst type of person ever: an entitled Alpha with a more than inflated ego. Terror digs a grave in your thoughts before you shake your head and bare your teeth, growling in protest.
“Get your fucking hands off of me, you alpha bitch-” Wrong . No . Stop. Your inner Omega is begging you to quiet your mouth but you can’t help yourself. You are not submissive. You are not weak and in need of protection. And you wouldn’t let this guy intimidate you into bowing down to him. He smelled like cheap beer and even cheaper cologne as he growled lowly in warning, and squeezed at your wrist even more, the grip suffocating in every way. It only grows worse when he leans in a takes in a deep sniff of your natural Omega smell.
“Bitch, I’ll teach you a lesson.” Pain blooms to the tips of your fingers as you realize his massive size is going to be a problem. The beacon of hope is growing distant when he tries to pull you away, even as you fight at his grip and screech out obscenities.
“No one will come for you, bitch. You’re just some little Omega who needs an alpha like me to keep you satisfied.” You were really up for giving him your money now if it meant he would get his hands off of you or the idea that you could ever want him.
“Take my money, I don’t care! But let go of me!” In your distress, you send unconscious waves of panic over your dormant bond, your scent changing to mask your emotions. You try to twist your wrist out of his to big hand, but it’s no use. You try to put yourself in denial, that this isn’t happening, that you aren’t about to be robbed or worse-
“I’d suggest you let go of her hand, or I might break your arms.” A voice speaks nonchalantly from your left, in the depths of the darkness around you. You strain your eyes, fear still thundering in your blood as the alpha only growls aggressively, so stupid and narrow minded that he can no longer form words.
“You better run along home before I get mad. She is no property of yours.” Despite your fear, you bare your teeth slowly, anger plugging up some of the fright because no one calls you property. No one ever fucking calls you property . Using the new arrival as a distraction, you twist your arm harshly, ignoring the pain of his squeeze as you try again to valiantly fight your own battles the way you always have since you were young. The alpha grows irritated as a form seems to materialize from the shadows, carrying something that- is that a-
Bow and arrow in hand? Except it’s nothing like the old types you’ve seen on television. It’s metallic and the heavy shape is visible despite the darkness, but you can barely make out this would-be saviors face. You didn’t want his help even if you needed it. You sniff in the rank smell of the alpha pressed to you and the reeking streets; but the new smell is nothing like them. It chills you with a calmness you don’t know and makes you feel off balance. You’ve lived in this area for years and never once came across such a scent before.
“You don’t listen very well do you?” The male speaks in a light, airy tone, as if chiding a small child for not listening to directions. In the span of a moment, there’s an arrow notched to the bow and before a scream can peek through your chapped lips, the steel is buried in the arm of the hand currently holding tight to your wrist. Your mouth opens as your eyes widen, the alpha’s grip loosening enough for you to tear free as a howl of pain leaves him. You jump back, fingers curling into fists as the adrenaline drives you forward, the buckle of your knuckles as they crunch against the male’s nose enough to bear with the awful twist of your wrists. It’s probably broken, but you don’t care. The alpha crumples to the ground, grasping at his arm with the arrow protruding from it, now more concerned with the injury than you or the mystery man who’s stalking towards you. Before you can speak, he’s quickly ushering you away, gently pulling you through the shadows until he’s sure there is a safe distance between you and the mugger. A better stream of light reflects off of his green- no, blue? eyes as he glances over at you with a small smile.
“That should be far enough way. Being near me lets your smell blend in so it’ll be much harder to find you if that fuck face even tries.” With a single nod, you turn to face him, back straight as you tugged your arm free. For a moment, you feel his grasp give a slight squeeze before he lets you go and takes a safe step back.
“I could’ve handled it on my own,” You mutter, your wrist already turning purple with an ugly bruise. You try to move your fingers but no- all five are definitely broken.
“Is that why you were screaming for me or was it just to humor me?” He shot back, brow raised in a rather attractive- shut up- irritating way.
“You ? Why the hell would I be calling for some guy who carries around a bow and arrow like some hero?” You seethe, canines glinting as you bare your fangs. It’s rude, rude for an omega to show aggression towards an alpha (you can smell it off of him in waves, the sense of calm he brings you is leaning towards scary), and you should be thanking him for saving your life, but your arrogance is haunting.
“Maybe because this guy, who actually is a hero, is bound to you, and if I hadn’t felt you through the bond, you’d be dead. If I didn’t show up when I did, who knows how soon anyone would’ve been able to find you? And you wait this long to even try to feel for me? What the fuck is that about?” The more he talks, the more his tone becomes more disapproving and irritated, his eyes closing into little glaring slits. You try not to look him in the face, try not to put the sounds of his vowels to memory because you’ll dream about it until you die, you’ll remember it until it fades into old memories in the back of your mind. You make an attempt to stop scenting the air for him, or to look at him in hopes of seeing your name plastered on his skin. No, this couldn’t be your bonded. No way.
“I don’t believe this. Just- Just go away.” You manage, swallowing down your questions and evading his own. You make to turn away, but his voice stops you, the way it quakes makes it hard to move, and he smells stressed.
“Not until you talk to me, (y/n). Not until you tell me why it took someone almost killing to you try and reach out to me. Why you never responded to anything I ever tried to say through our bond. You locked me the fuck out and I couldn’t feel anything. I didn’t know how to find you… Couldn’t tell you anything because of what I do… but I tried. God, I fucking tried my heart out. And tonight, when you begged me to save you, I was going out of my mind, worried that you were going to be taken from me before I even had a chance to see you for the first time. And I- I can fucking smell him on you and it makes me sick to my stomach to know that he touched any part of you. You’re pissy and angry and beautiful and I can barely stop myself from wanting to rub my scent all over you right now.” Oh. That’s- You aren’t sure what to do now that the adrenaline is steadily pouring from your veins, leaving you physically and mentally exhausted, your cheeks warmed slightly with the thought of his earthy smell brushing all over you. You take a few minutes to process before you slowly turn back and brace yourself to look at him.
It almost hurts to look, because you’re noticing how much taller he is, how much bigger he is compared to your frail frame. The street lamp reveals his blond locks and his attire looks like some type of stealth wear, his bow already strapped to his back with a quiver of arrows. His eyes, you still can’t pinpoint the exact shade, but they glimmer with a complex mix of relief and sadness that hurts you and you hate him more for it. It doesn’t help that your Bonded is as handsome as they come, undeniably so. You want to wrap yourself up in your rage, drink off of it until you feel nothing, the same way you’ve felt nothing for years. You don’t want his sudden appearance to turn you into some weak, crying omega. You’d grown tougher than that, it was a necessity. Clearing your throat, you hate how much your voice reveals.
“I waited. I waited for you for a long time… Clint.” His name sounds raw in your mouth and it hurts to breathe it out into the atmosphere as your mark, just along the left side of your hip, throbs gently as if to try and soothe you. It’s rare that you’re this emotional; you didn’t know you still had the ability to act like this at all. “I waited while my father beat the shit out of me for being an omega. I waited while my mother took all of my money and left me homeless. I even waited when an accident left me with no college scholarship and no chance to get out of here. I used to talk to our bond at night, and tell you about my day, about soccer practice and how terrified I was of being like my mother. And when everything got worse, and you never responded, I just stopped. I stopped everything and moved out and found a shitty apartment in this horrible part of town. I’ve taken care of myself for a long time now, and I don’t need anyone, especially you, to suddenly save me. I was reckless tonight, I know. I’ll take better care of myself next time.” It’s dismissive and you both know it. Deep down, you know this is going to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, heading out at night only being a close second. Of course you don’t want him to vanish into thin air like this never happened. You don’t want him to vanish into obscurity, but what else could you do. You remember an earlier thought that you had, “ Clint wouldn’t want you anyway ... he’s fucking lucky that he missed out on dealing with you and your excessive baggage and shitty attitude…” This was just proving your own words right.
“You can’t expect me to believe you don’t want me here. You’re so close that I can tell you’re lying to me and yourself. How would you know whether I want you or not if you’re not even going to give me a chance? You’re not the only one who’s waited. I’ve been through so much shit that for a while, I couldn’t even feel my own soul, let alone you. And I hated it. I hated not knowing where the hell you were or if you were okay, if you were missing me the way I miss you. And you are so damn stubborn, but so am I. The second I felt you screaming for me, I left my post to come and save you because I could finally sense exactly where you were. I’m sorry that I’m so late. I’m sorry. There’s so much I want to tell you, but none of it matters right now. I-” You blink the second his voice fades out, realizing you’ve been staring at his shoulder the entire time, but you shift your gaze to his eyes. You’ve always been extremely good at reading people and right now, you could only tell that he was being honest. It didn’t make you trust him anymore, but it was enough to stop you from running away with your tail between your legs.
“I get that you’ve been on your own for a long time and you’re used to that, but you don’t have to be, not anymore. Not now that I’ve finally found you. And if you let me- I’ll never let you down again. I’m a really big disappointment, but I’d do my best not to disappoint you.” He admits with a peer at your eyes and his expression set in stone. You gnaw away at your lower lip before sighing. All you wanted was ice cream and a nice walk along the street. You never expected to almost be mugged and/or killed or meeting your Bonded because of said Bonded saving you from being mugged. God, it was so melodramatic that you were finding it hard to believe at all. Maybe you were back in your apartment with the drip, drip, dripping and you would wake up in a couple seconds because of your neighbor’s sad dog barking again. Yeah, that made so much more sense than this did.
“(y/n)...” You hate him. God, you hate him. You hate the way he’s looking at you and the way he says your name and how every single fucking cell in your body feels it. Your mark hurts and you hate that it makes your heart skip a small beat or that maybe he can tell without you having to say anything.
“I… I don’t know, Clint. I don’t… You may end up realizing you should’ve just left me to die. I don’t know if you’ll understand how much of a fucking wreck I am… I’m not going to come at your beck and call or treat you like my master. I’m not going to listen to whatever you say or behave or any of that Alpha bullshit. You know that, right?” He should. Not many alphas or betas would ever put up with an omega like you, so strong willed and stubborn.
“I happen to know quite a few fuck ups, (y/n); in fact, I am one. I may be an Alpha, but I don’t want to dictate your life like that. Shit, I don’t want you to change with that smart ass mouth either. I just want to.. Take care of you. Make you safe. Nothing more, nothing less.” As he speaks, the avenger takes a step closer to you once he’s sure you won’t run away. You aren’t so skittish anymore, just tired and hungry and more than grumpy with a broken wrist and fingers. Through your bond to Clint, you can physically feel the emotions welling up inside him as he comes closer, close enough to reach down and gently take your injured hand. You wince, but stand still, letting his scent wash over you as he inspects your bruised up hand.
“And I’m not going to say “I love you” right now just because you’re my Bonded. You haven’t earned it. And I’m not going to kiss you. You don’t deserve that either. And-” You crinkle your nose at the sight of his genuine smile, as he raises your hand to softly brush his lips over the horrid sight of your black and blue knuckles.
“And I take it you won’t just fall into my arms like some damsel in distress, right?”
“Fuck no.”
“And you aren’t going to share a bed with me either?”
“In your dreams.”
Clint releases your hand and takes the other, undamaged one, easily lacing your fingers together despite your protests.
“H-Hey, where do you think you’re taking me? Who said-” Still smiling, Clint starts to guide you down the sidewalk, his grip not too tight, but tight enough that you can’t easily pull away.
“I’ve got friends nearby who can take care of your hand. Then we’re going to get you home since you’re against spending the night with me, little brat.”
“Did you just call me brat? You alpha asshole.” You spat back, huffing and grumbling under your breath, “I hate you so much.”
“Mhm. Yeah, yeah, brat.”
.x.
And somewhere along the way, you found yourself smiling small for the first time in a long time. It may not have been love… but it could be, later. Clint finding you that night had been a blessing in disguise because without him, you would've never found the happiness that had always been waiting right there for you.