Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rey trudges wearily through the front door of her apartment, her steps laden with exhaustion. Another evening spent wrangling the blissfully un-reared Williams triplets has left her drained, both physically and emotionally, to the point that she’s numb. She can hardly detect the hunger she’s ignored for the past eight hours, let alone the growing discomfort from the puffy, roddy glands both on her wrists and neck. Her heat is slowly encroaching and despite doing her best to ignore its telltale signs, it’s hard to disregard them now that she’s alone. 

Rey Niima doesn’t have time for her needy designation. 

Rey Niima doesn’t have time for anything. 

She was freshly eighteen, newly on her own after aging out of Plutt’s Home for Girls. Her time was fully dedicated to figuring out this whole adulting thing. She had known, after being placed in the low income efficiency in a not-so-good part of town, that it wouldn’t be easy. However, she didn’t think it would be this hard either. Rey didn’t know the first thing about budgeting, or how many days past expiration was bread still good, or how to properly file taxes. 

It didn’t help that half her check from the nanny agency goes towards paying her expensive health insurance premium. Rey prides herself in being as healthy as a horse, given the fact that she’s hardly ever sick, but it wasn’t an impromptu illness or a sudden visit to the local urgent care that she was worried about.

Rey was an unmated omega who hasn’t had a proper heat since she was sixteen. The first time had been so god-awful, she was sure she was going to die in her bunk bed due to the symptoms of her heat. The sweating, the slick, the whimpering, the mewling. Rey knew her  first heat wasn’t necessarily supposed to be this glamorous, coming-of-age thing, but she hadn’t expected it to be so bad either. Plutt had made her caretakers lock her in a room with nothing but blankets and hardly any food to see her through. 

Rey remembered her pitiful nest, a thing made of cold fabric with no alpha scent to calm her. 

It’s the reason why Rey had made it clear in her application at the nanny agency to never assign her children of alpha’s. The Williams family were made up of beta parents who were devout workaholics, usually out on either business trips or taking on extra hours away at the temp office. Most of her families were like this, either beta or omega, or some combination of both. She sighs as she plops down on her run-down couch—a thing that had probably once been bright cobalt, rendered now a mossy, lived-in green. She pulls out her phone, noticing she had missed social media messages and some texts from Rose, another omega and the closest thing to a friend she had made during her time at Plutt’s. She goes to open the pink agency app to input her hours. 

It’s a simple thing, almost elementary in its layout. She selects the tab labeled ‘hours’ and logs hers for the week. It is currently Friday and Rey, honestly, couldn’t be happier. She may be young but her entire soul was tired. Tired of working so much, tired of worrying about everything, tired of being so helpless. 

Sure, being a nanny made decent money, just enough to keep a roof over her head and food in her stomach. However, the work was backbreaking and for someone who never had a family, constantly being surrounded by ones that would never be her own, was doing some mental gymnastics to her hindbrain. Despite busying herself, she could no more deny her desperate need for connection more than she could have flown herself to the moon. 

Rose 10:14am

<huloooo>

X 12:10pm

[@rosetico sent you a post]

X 1:37pm

[@rosetico sent you a post]

Little Rebels Nanny Agency 2:30pm

[Rose Tico has sent you a new requisition. Tap to view.]

Rose 02:32pm

<i sent you something lmk if u got it>

Rose 5:46pm

<did u get the open req i sent through the app?>

Rey exited her timecard and clicked on the ‘home’ tab, noticing a small red dot above ‘notifications’. She had felt her phone buzzing hours ago but she had been a bit busy playing impromptu referee in a triplet roughhousing. She clicks on it and isn’t surprised to find it cluttered, riddled with expired nanny jobs she’s taken, future pending request logs, and monthly announcements from the agency. She swipes on them, clearing out her inbox. 

Rose’s requisition finally reaches the top. It’s a nanny gig—a permanent nanny gig. 

Rey had been trying for months to find a full-time family to care for. She didn’t mind picking up shifts (except maybe the Williams’) but finding a stable source of income was her ultimate goal.

She rubs the sore gland on her neck as she clicks on the open ad. 

She expects it to denote the usual demographic information, whether it is a single parent or two, the number of children, a nice apartment in the city or house in the country, and designations. Rey finds this one to be slightly different than what she is used to.

Ben Mortimer Solo. Single father, aged 42. 

Designation: Beta

Location: London, England

Children: 7, ages range from 6 - 13 years.

Requirements for this position: willing to relocate and live in-house. This position has recently opened and is urgently seeking candidates. Mr. Solo will be covering the cost of flight as well as room and board should you be chosen. Interviews are selective and based on qualifications. Apply today!

 

Rey 5:53pm

<uh 7 kids?!>

Rose 5:55pm

<🙄look at the pay>

Rey 5:55pm

<it’s not even in america Rose!>

Rose 5:55pm

<LOOK AT THE PAY>

Rey switches back to the app, scrolling down further to the ‘compensation’ portion. 

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her skull. 

Rey 5:57pm

<that has to be a typo>

It had to be. How did anyone have that much money just lying about? This Mr. Solo was rich. The filthy kind. The kind that should be outright illegal or at the very least, frowned upon. 

Her phone dings again. 

Rose 5:59pm

<nope. i already called the agency. all those pretty zeros are A MONTH>

Rey 5:59pm

<the kids must be trolls. five-legged beasts for sure>

Rose 6:00pm

<probably but it’s good money! u have always wanted to visit england too> 

That was true. Rey had always daydreamed about traveling abroad and seeing the world, especially while living in the confines of Plutt’s group home. She knew better now, though, knew that it was all just out of reach, just the fantasies conjured up in the mind of a little girl. She rolls out her neck, bringing her wrist up to her mouth, guiding the puffy gland there to the warmth of her lips. She sucks on it, the act soothing akin to a child sucking their thumb. It’s a mild relief but never enough to quiet the ache of it. 

Rey 6:02pm

<i don’t have a passport 🙁>

Rose 6:02pm

<the agency will sponsor you if you’re chosen.just apply for it. plus, the dad’s a beta! what do u have 2 lose??>

Rey sighs, leaning back into the dusty couch. She had never traveled outside the state let alone taken on so many children at once. The William triplets were the most she’d ever taken on and even then, she felt heavily outnumbered. Seven was definitely questionable, for both her sanity and general well-being. 

Who was this Ben Solo? 

What did he do for a living? 

Rey releases the gland on her wrist and turns to the app. “Live in-house” she reads again from the requirements, she’d never done that before either. How would that work—living amongst your boss and his children? The same children she’d care for whether or not he was around. Would her age matter? The agency itself stipulated that one had to be at least sixteen to even seek employment. This Mr. Solo probably wanted someone with far more experience than she could possibly have at her age. 

She shakes her head, throwing her phone into the ensemble of mismatched couch cushions she had pilfered from the local Goodwill. 

It was a lost cause. She’d definitely never get it and knew it’d be a total waste of her time. 

Resigned, Rey goes to shower, busying herself with thoughts of bills and what she’d make for dinner that night, unwilling to allow herself to hope. She would call Rose later and go about her weekend as usual.

Waiting at the pharmacy line at Publix had to be top ten worst things to do on a Saturday morning. The lines were always ridiculously long, everyone above the age of sixty seemed to materialize here just to lug around aimlessly, and the check out lane moved akin to a walking sloth. Though, by far the worst, was the pheromone thick air, especially the awful scent people gave off when they were either pissed or impatient or, horror of horrors, both.

Rey plugged her nose. Typically, she wouldn't be able to smell anything but she was nearing the end of her suppressant dosing for the month. She was, annoyingly, most sensitive then, from smell to touch, even her emotions were usually taciturn when nearing the end of her cycle. 

All she needed was her refill and she’d be set. No heat meant no need for time off. 

Her shoulders unhitched from her ears as she allowed herself to relax. Things would be fine, Rey was going to be just fine. 

“Next!” 

Rey steps forward, digging into her black hoodie pockets, fishing out her ID from the back of her phone. 

“Rey Niima, my birthday’s May 4th, 2005.”  

The portly lady takes her ID, fingers adjusting the half moon spectacles lower on the bridge of her hooked nose. She looks at it then back at Rey before confirming her address, disappearing behind the endless shelving of medication. Rey taps her foot against the tiles, rolling out the tension in her neck. God, her glands were itchy beyond belief despite taking her medication this morning. She only had a few doses left and couldn’t imagine the hell she’d be in if she were to run out.

“Miss Niima.” 

Rey thought about what the rest of her Saturday would look like. After she picked up her meds, maybe she’d go visit the local consignment store in search of a replacement saucepan. She had burned the only one she had during dinner last night and could definitely use another.

Rey pressed her belly against the counter, pulling out her debit card, but was immediately halted.

“Miss, Niima, we do have your medication but your insurance is inactive.” 

Rey whips her head up, eyebrows slamming over her eyes in apprehension. 

“What?” 

This must be a joke. Some sick twist of the universe. 

“Your insurance lapsed at the beginning of the month it seems.”

“That can’t be.” 

She had paid her health premium amongst her other load of bills. She had placed the amount inside an envelope and mounted it to her fridge. She had made a mental note to… to mail it because she had shoddy wifi and… oh no.

“I’m afraid it is,” Dolores, according to her hot pink name tag, shakes her head pursing her lips. “You can call your insurance company or you can self-pay.” 

Rey might have a heart attack. Or a stroke. Or both. How could she be so stupid? She gnaws at her bottom lip as she tries to think. How much money did she have in her emergency fund? She already had to take a chunk out of it to pay the pest control guy last week. Maybe if she ate only ramen for the next several days, she could try to—

“We’d like to get a move on here you know!”

Rey turns behind her and her chest spasms uncomfortably at the growing line. Sweat starts to coat the back of her neck and she can’t help but shift uncomfortably in her worn chucks. 

Make up your mind. Make up your mind, Rey. 

“How much is self-pay?” 

“$508.38.” 

Rey was officially broke. 

She could live comfortably only if she died in the next twenty minutes and really, that was being generous. 

Her emergency fund was gone and most of her checking account balance was dangerously close to the single digits. It had been a long time since Rey had last felt so hopeless, since she last cried and felt as shitty and as lousy as she did then. She laid back against the messy covers of her bed and stared up at the creaky ceiling fan above her. 

She let out a dejected sigh. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are you going to continue to mope like someone pissed in your coffee?” 

Rose quips from behind her phone screen, her face half-lit by some social media app that took up too much of her time. Rey turns her body to face her friend, tucking her hands beneath her cheek as a makeshift pillow. 

“Rose, I’m broke.” 

“Join the club, sweetheart.”

“No,” Rey sits up on her elbows, snatching the phone from Rose’s hands and tucking it underneath the mayhem of blankets. “No, like I’m broke broke. Like broker than you can even begin to imagine. I didn’t pay my insurance on time and had to self-pay for my suppressants.” 

Her friend’s scowl fades slowly, replaced by realization, thick eyebrows bunching in concern. 

“Fuck.” 

Rey rolls onto her back again, somehow sighing even louder. Her life really was over. Unless she somehow could miraculously get steady nanny requisitions for the next two weeks, she was toast. 

She’d be evicted, her car repo’d, she’d be forced to quit her suppressants and would be left vulnerable, unmated, and on the streets. Her heart hammered away at the thought alone. Of going through a heat on her own without her medication to act as a buffer. She might as well call quits now.

“You’re kinda fucked, dude.” 

“Jeez thanks.” 

There’s a beat of silence, a brief current of understanding sifting between them. Rose is the first to break it.

“Did you apply for that job posting I sent you through the agency?” 

Rey peeked at her from the corner of her eye. What did that have to do with anything?

“The one with the forty-something year old dad with the baseball team for kids. You applied, right?” 

“Rose, I’ll never be selected. There’s no point.” 

Rey had already been over it, she was too young, too inexperienced. It'd be a total waste of her time. She needed something tangible. Something dependable. Rey didn’t believe in wishful thinking. She was pragmatic to a fault. 

“Says who? I know a guy who knows a guy. Just try it. You have nothing to lose.” 

Rose says it so matter-of-factly, she could have told her the sky was green and she would have believed her. 

Rey bites her lip. It didn’t surprise her that her friend knew someone inside the agency. Rose always had random friends in random places—given a personality where one couldn’t help but gravitate towards her (despite her pension for being blunt and entirely too honest). 

“I hate it when you’re right.” 

“You’re kind, responsible, and have an enviable work ethic. They’d be stupid not to pick you.” Rose gets up from the squeaky bed, locating Rey’s phone from the rubble of half-opened envelopes and haphazardly scribbled sticky notes on her desk. “I’ll even do it for you. What’s your passcode again?”

Rey hears nothing for the next several days. It doesn’t surprise her. She’s, thankfully, been able to snag a few nanny gigs from her usuals (unfortunately including the Williams) but not enough to quiet the anxiety that bubbles up everytime she thinks about her bills. Omegas aren’t meant to worry or truly deal with half of the stressors Rey has been blighted with. It makes them flighty, angsty, volatile. If she had an alpha, this would be the time where she’d seek refuge in their presence, where her alpha would seemingly sedate her by tending to her glands and scenting her.

Except that wasn’t the case for Rey. 

All she had to acquiesce her thoughts was an alpha-knot she had bought at the local sex shop in town. She’d also self-soothe by sucking on the gland on her wrist. 

It was awful. Pitiful. 

Rey just didn’t have time for an alpha right now. She needed her sea legs under her in this sea of uncertainty before she’d even attempt that sort of thing anytime soon. 

She’s nearly forgotten about the whole ordeal until she’s cooped up in her covers, doom scrolling on social media when she gets the notification:

Little Rebels Nanny Agency 6:13pm

[Interview Request. Click more for details.]