hey-sunshines

[hey-sunshines]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 30: Butterfly's Wings

Summary: Now that the truth has come out, everyone has a decision to make

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,377 words

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has several panic attacks, violation of privacy, vomiting, anger, Simon yells at the reader, Simon does manhandle the reader a bit but it's not in a violent way, lots and lots of crying, sort of interrogation, conspiracy theories, not a lot of comfort in this one

A/N: And so the angst continues. The awaited reveal of what happens next has come. A lot of emotions here, a lot of thinking. I am not sorry for what is going to happen in these next few chapters

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You swallow thickly, squeezing your fingers together as they begin to shake. He knows, he heard it perfectly. He’s giving you a chance to come clean, to admit that you’ve lied to them for months. There’s no going back. You’re panicking again, just as you had in the mess a few minutes ago. 

For the first time in a long time, you’re afraid. 

“I-I...” You try to find the words, trying to put together a coherent sentence under the sharp, scrutinizing gaze of the alpha in front of you. 

He leans over even further across the table, holding eye contact with you. His eyes are so sharp you think they may leave knife marks on your skin, burn scorch marks across your body. He’s pulled taut, even his voice sharp. You’re not talking to Simon anymore. You’re facing Ghost now. 

“I said, do you want to repeat that?” He repeats it slower, enunciating every word as if you didn’t hear him the first time. You almost didn’t with the blood pulsing in your ears, the panic lifting your heart rate higher and higher. He’s pushing you, daring you to try to lie to his face more than you already have. He’s using his status against you, making you feel cornered. 

“I-I found cameras...in my room.” You try not to choke around the nervous lump in your throat. Your voice is quiet, shaking just as much as your body is. Maybe you should let that lump choke you. Death seems less terrifying right now than the angry alpha in front of you. He is angry. You don’t even have to read his body language to know. You can tell just by his eyes and the quickly rising edge of ozone in his scent. “T-The first mission when everyone left...someone broke into my room and put up cameras...I found them and broke them and I hid the bag in my bathroom.” 

He stares at you for a long moment, the silence so tense you can nearly taste it. He slams his hands on the table, pushing himself up so he’s standing. You jump, starting to curl in on yourself, an attempt to protect yourself from his wrath. You know he won’t hurt you, but your brain is screaming at you to run, to hide, to make yourself as small as possible. 

“Get up.” He snaps, his anger freezing you in place. You can’t move, even though you know you should. “I said get your fucking ass off that bench and let’s go.” He yells, forcing your body into motion. 

You nearly fall in your attempt to get off of the bench, your body trembling almost violently in fear. Your breaths are coming in gasps again, the alpha rasping at the edges of his voice melting your brain into a fear-filled mush. His hand wraps around your arm, fingers digging into your skin. If you hadn’t been wearing a sweatshirt, you know you would see the indents from his fingers. You’re going to bruise later.

Your shoulder pops as he tugs you harshly towards the barracks, your feet scrambling to keep up. Passersby stare at you, sensing your fear and his anger, but they wouldn’t dare intervene. It’s not their place, and you can’t blame them for not waiting to face down the giant, angry alpha hauling you to the barracks. 

You’ve fucked up. You’ve royally fucked up. You should have just told them when they got back, admitted to everything then. You should have been honest, should have revealed everything instead of trying to keep it all hidden.

The fear you felt back then is nothing compared to the fear you feel now. 

You’ve betrayed them, betrayed their trust. Admitting to your stupidity would have been nothing compared to the shame burning hot through you now. 

Simon throws open the door, dragging you into the barracks. You know where he’s heading, your feet finally under you on the tile. He lets you go and you scurry to your room, too afraid to even try running for help. None of them will protect you, not after he tells them why you’re so afraid. 

Your hand fumbles with the doorknob, the nervous sweat on your skin making it slide right off the metal. He’s behind you, lingering as you use your sleeve to finally turn the knob and get the door open. There’s no hesitation as you enter the room, going straight for the bathroom. Fear trickles down your spine as you kneel down, hands shaking as you pull everything out from the cabinet. The bag is still there, still tucked in the far corner. It’s like it’s mocking you now, jeering at your fear. The bag that holds your deepest secret, the bag that you had almost forgotten about until now. 

You ignore the mess as you pull the bag out, turning your body to face the alpha in your room. Simon is standing there just outside the doorway, anger still rolling off of him. You’re shaking so badly the bag of broken plastic and metal pieces clinks as you hold it up to him. He takes it from your hand, holding it up to the harsh bathroom light. It’s impossible not to tell what’s in it, especially not to someone who probably encounters these items often. 

“Get up.” He snaps again, and you use the sink to aid you in rising on your shaky legs. They feel like jello, nearly giving out as you stand there in front of him. 

He reaches for you and you expect him to grab your arm or even your throat but instead he reaches around, gripping you by the back of the shirt. He pulls you after him, half dragging you to your door and out into the hallway. Your shoes squeak on the floor, slipping as you attempt to get your weak legs to keep up with his steps. He doesn’t care, and you know he’d drag you if you stopped trying to walk. 

You’re thrown back violently to that time years ago when you had been in a similar position, being dragged from the safety of your room, your father’s fingers digging into your skin as he dragged you down the hall. He was ashamed of you, angry at you for what you were. The shame you felt for months from disappointing him, the ozone-laced scent of alpha anger still burning in your nose even years later. 

The same kind of shame burns in you now. 

Simon’s anger is like a thunderstorm, the familiar scent of ozone pricking dangerously in the back of your mind. You want to sink in there, retreat into the safety in the back of your mind but you can’t. It’s like your omega knows you have to face the consequences, abandoning you in revenge for keeping this secret for so long. 

The squeaking of your shoes has brought Kyle out of the rec room, his brows furrowing as he sees you being dragged along by Simon. 

“What’s going on?” He asks, looking between your teary face and Simon’s angry one. 

“Find MacTavish and meet me in Price’s office.” Simon snaps. It’s the only explanation he gives before he’s turning the corner, making his way towards the half opened door. 

He shoves it open with his shoulder, not even bothering to knock. The door hits the chair pushed into the table in the corner with a bang. John looks up in surprise, his brow furrowing as Simon drags you to his desk, your legs finally giving out as he releases you. 

You kneel there on the floor, tears streaming down your cheeks in shame now more than fear. They’re going to get rid of you, they’re going to drag you from what has become your home and send you back to the CIA, or worse, the institute. All the progress you’ve made is gone, it’s been undone by your choice to lie, to hide this from them. You’re crying from fear, but also from anger at yourself. Why didn’t you just tell them? Why did you think they’d ever be upset for you revealing something so serious, something that could be dangerous? There could be cameras all over the barracks and they wouldn’t know, all because of your anxiety, your fear, your stupidity. 

“Someone bugged her room,” Simon says, tossing the bag of broken pieces on John’s desk. “And she’s been keeping it from us for months.” 

You want to melt. You want to sink into the couch and dissolve into nothing. Your metaphorical tail has never been tucked quite so far between your legs as you sit there, cowering on the couch in John’s office. The alpha is pacing back and forth in the small space, the scent electric with ozone and the bitter stench of your fear. Even the attempts to overpower the scent by the betas sitting on either side of you have failed. They’re too upset. You know it. 

“I want you to run that all by me again.” John says, pausing in his pacing to stand over you. Simon is leaning against the door, arms crossed and still reeling with anger. 

You had felt like you were in an interrogation when they asked you about your nightmares. That feeling is nothing compared to what you’re feeling now. That had been simple probling, the concern of your pack as they guided you into telling them the truth. This is an interrogation, a first-hand glance at their abilities, their skills, who they are in the field and not the pack that you recognize. 

You’ve fucked up. You’ve royally fucked up. 

“I-It was the day before you got back.” You say, looking down at your hands. You can’t handle facing any of them right now, seeing the anger and disappointment on their faces. “A beta, a woman, knocked on my door. She was an American, a-a soldier. She told me General Shepherd was waiting for me. I-I didn’t know what to do and I panicked because I knew I couldn’t just say no, so I went with her. General Shepherd asked me some questions about the pack and how we were settling in and he looked at my mark and then sent me back to the barracks. When I got back I noticed my door was open and I know I closed it when I left. I always close it.” 

You swallow thickly, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. The last thing you need to do right now is distress. You’re not sure John would help you, any of them would help you. They’d just stare down at your pathetic form as you give into your fear, their anger wiping out the instinct to help, to care for their omega. You’ll die while they all look down at you in disgust. 

“I noticed something sticking out of the vent slightly, so I climbed up and it was a camera.” You continue, your voice shaking. “Someone went in and put cameras and recording devices all over the room. I-I looked everywhere for them and then smashed the ones I found and hid them in the cabinet in the bathroom.” 

John lets out a sigh before he starts pacing back and forth again. The silence is almost worse than if he had been yelling at you. “Why did you keep this from us?” He snaps, turning on you again. 

You flinch at his anger, sinking deeper into the couch between the two betas. “I-I thought you might have known.” You say quietly, trying to curl in on yourself. “I-I thought there was no way your superior could have been on base without you knowing, and then I...I panicked about the cameras and I was scared if I told you, something might happen and if you started asking questions you might get hurt or s-something might happen to me, and I was ashamed that I did something so stupid, leaving like that with a stranger and I couldn’t handle it if you were disappointed in me or angry and I just wanted to bury it and forget.” The tears are falling freely now, every breath a sob. “I-I was scared you might send me back or, or do something worse because I was stupid, but I shouldn’t have kept it from you I’m sorry.” 

You’re crying earnestly now, your breaths catching on every inhale. You curl in on yourself, drawing your knees up as you cross your arms, trying to put pressure against your chest. You wish you had your bear, you wish you had something to squeeze, something to try and regulate your mind before you distress. Something to hide behind.

John curses quietly, running a hand down his face. He drops to a knee in front of you, reaching out for you. You flinch out of reflex as his hand closes around the back of your neck. “Look at me.” He says, his voice rough. You’re not speaking to John anymore, you’re facing Captain Price. 

You meet his gaze, looking into eyes that once might have been comforting to you, but the hardness in them, the accusatory glint to them has you curling up tighter. There will be no pity, no mercy. The back of your neck tingles, his hand almost burning where it presses against the skin there. All he has to do is move his fingers just slightly, dig them into your skin and force the truth out of you. It wouldn’t do any good. You are telling them the truth. 

They just need to believe that. 

“Do you know who could have done this?” He asks, his voice softer than it had been just moments ago. “Footprints, a scent, anything?” 

You shake your head, trying to calm your sobs. “T-There was n-nothing. N-No scent.” 

He sighs, releasing you to stand. He turns his back to you, resting his hands on his desk. His shoulders are taut, muscles straining as he tries to hold back his anger. You almost wish he wasn’t, you almost wish he’d take it out on you, give you the punishment you feel you deserve. Shame still burns hot in you, more than it had when you made the decision to lie to them. They’ll never trust you again. 

“Whoever it was had access to high grade monitoring equipment.” Simon says, holding the bag of broken pieces. He steps away from the door, tossing it back on John’s desk. 

“You think it was someone here?” Kyle asks. 

Or someone who came with General Shepherd. 

They’re all thinking it. They just don’t want to say it out loud. 

The thought sends a shiver down your spine. The general had seemed very interested in the status of your pack, the bonds that were forming. The way he stared at your mark like it was a trophy, the way he stared at you like you were a trophy. You’re used to being looked at like an object. You’ve been looked at that way since you presented. Yet the way General Shepherd had looked at you...it makes your stomach churn. He wouldn’t have had the cameras put up, would he? What would he gain from it?

If he was so interested in your pack, then why hasn’t he come back? It’s been months since his visit, months since you removed the cameras, and yet you haven’t heard or seen any sign of him. Maybe he was only interested in making sure you had been claimed, that John had done his duty and not faked it or lied about it. Maybe John has been keeping him satisfied with his reports since then, giving them the details they want now that it’s been proven all of you have done your jobs. 

The thought of what the details John has been putting in could be makes your stomach churn.

You need something to hold. You need something to push against your chest, keep the pressure there so you don’t fall into distress in the middle of John’s office. 

“You’re sure you got all of them.” John says, turning back to you. 

The yes dies on your tongue as you take a moment to think about it. The lingering feeling of being watched, the tickling feeling in the back of your mind in the last few days. The soulless black eyes staring back at you. The bumpy seam. 

The bear. 

There’s no other thoughts in your mind as you jump up off the couch, throwing the door open as you race down the hallway. They’re on your heels, your speed the only thing keeping them from catching you. Your shoes squeak as you race down the hallway, shouldering your door open. You go directly to your bed, grabbing the bear. 

The way it’s been sitting there for weeks, almost mocking you. ‘You should have known. You should have guessed. I’ve been watching you this whole time.’ It’s saying to you. 

You sink your fingers into the small hole, ripping the crudely stitched seam up the back. You sink your hand into the stuffing, reaching up towards the head, feeling, feeling until your fingers hit a wire. Nausea churns your stomach, the shaking in your body stilling as you wrap your fingers around it, tears blurring your eyes. 

You yank on the wire, pulling the bear’s left eye out with it. The bear falls from your hand as you begin to hyperventilate, staring at the camera in disbelief. You turn to the others, the camera beginning to shake in your hand as your body comes back to reality, tremors of fear and disgust wracking your form. 

John gently pulls the camera from your tingling fingers, turning to face the others. “Kyle, get her out of here.” 

You flinch as the beta wraps his arm around you, guiding you out of your room, what’s supposed to be your safe space. It’s been violated again, or was it never safe in the first place? 

Your stomach churns, more tears falling again, this time for a different reason. All the times you’ve slept, all the times you’ve fucked one of them in your room, all the times you’ve changed. Your heat. 

You free yourself from Kyle’s hold, racing down the hallway towards the bathroom. You push open the door, slipping on the tile clumsily. Your knees knock into the floor painfully as you barely make it, vomiting into the toilet. Kyle is right behind you, kneeling down in the stall with you. He rubs your back, holding your hair out of the way. 

You vomit until there’s nothing left to come up, dry heaving as you sob. Your stomach hurts, fear and disgust still causing your stomach to churn violently. Kyle pulls you up before flushing the toilet, leading you over to the sinks. He bends you down over one, using a paper towel to clean your face. 

“Easy.” He tries to soothe you, wetting another paper towel in the cold before pressing it against the back of your neck. 

Your hands are going numb as you cry, unable to take a deep enough breath to oxygenate your blood. You’re going to pass out. Your vision is tunneling. Maybe if Kyle is merciful enough, he’ll let your head hit the sink on the way down. 

Maybe you’ll wake up and not remember anything. 

“Search them all.” John says as soon as you’re out of the room. 

Rage burns hot in him still, his hands almost shaking as he grabs another stuffed animal off your bed. Your betrayal hurts. The fact you hadn’t felt comfortable enough to tell them the truth, the fact you’ve kept this a secret for so long stings something deep in his chest. Were you ever going to tell them? Or would you have kept this a secret for the rest of your life had the truth not slipped out on its own? 

He slices down the seam of another bear with his knife, sinking his hand into the fluff. He feels around, touching every inch of fluff and fabric, but there’s nothing. Stuffing falls on the floor, decorating it like fake snow as they tear open each stuffed animal and pillow. 

“Got another.” Johnny says, pulling a recording device from another bear. 

Fuck. 

Simon grabs your giant bear, cutting it open far too happily. He’s none too gentle as he sinks his hand in, tugging out clump after clump of stuffing. “Nothing.” He says, tossing the bear on the floor almost angrily. 

John stares down at the camera and recording device in his hand before motioning for them to follow silently. He heads back to his office, grabbing the bag of crushed cameras before adding them to it. He shoves the bag into a drawer in his desk before stepping back out into the hallway. 

“Search every inch of this building.” He says quietly to Johnny and Simon. “For all we know they’re everywhere. I’m going to go have a chat with someone.” 

His hands are still shaking, anger radiating off him in waves. He’d had enough sense to spray himself with scent blocker before he stepped out into the warm air. It’s nearly suffocating, sweat beading on his back as he heads straight for the medical center. His mind is reeling. Your betrayal, the cameras, the ones in your stuffed animals. Where else could there be bugs planted? Someone invaded their space, invaded your space, with the intention of spying on them. 

And you tried to hide it from them. 

He’s still reeling as he makes his way down the hallway towards the familiar door. His knock is firm, his breaths deep and slow as he tries to calm himself. Anger won’t get him anywhere in this situation. He needs a clear head, he needs to think logically. He squeezes the knob at the call to enter, taking another breath before he steps inside. 

The soothing scent of beta goes straight to his head, calming the rage a bit as he approaches Dr. Keller’s desk. It always smells good in here, the scent soft and warm and relaxing. His anger far outweighs the light scent, though. If it had been more concentrated, directed at him, it may have been able to steady his swirling emotions. 

By the look on Dr. Keller’s face, she can sense the emotions radiating off of him, even without being able to smell them. He doesn’t want to use his alpha, intimidate the truth out of her, but he will if he has to. This is a direct threat to you, to your safety, to them and their safety. He needs the truth, and he won’t tolerate anything but.  

“Captain Price? Is everything alright?” She asks, closing the file on her desk as he stands just inside the doorway. 

“Walk with me.” He says, his hand still gripping the door handle. 

She doesn’t offer any complaint, doesn’t even ask why as she slips the file on her desk into a drawer before locking it. He’s impressed by her willingness, though he’d expected her to follow without question. If he’s approaching her alone, it’s not without reason, and it usually relates to you in some way. 

She stands from her desk, slipping her keys around her wrist before approaching him. He can smell the nervous taint beginning to form on the edge of her scent. He steps out of the doorway back into the hall, taking another breath. He can’t get too accusing until he’s more confident in his conspiracy, until he’s certain. She locks the door before turning to face him. He stares down at her for a second before he heads for the door. She follows him silently, keeping up with his pace. He’s eager to get outside, away from any prying eyes, anyone that might overhear. 

Away from cameras. 

He waits until they’re outside, leading her away from the more populated areas of the base. Normally he wouldn’t mind having this conversation in her office, but with this new development, he can’t be too careful. For all he knows there’s cameras there too. Dr. Keller doesn’t spend all her time in her office. It would be easy for someone to enter in the late hours of the night, when only A&E staff are milling about, and plant cameras in the room. If whoever planted them in your room was so dedicated to watching you as much as possible, he wouldn’t put it past them to watch you during your sessions too. 

He feels a bit strange being so conspiratorial, a bit paranoid, but he can’t help it. He can’t be sure of anything anymore. 

“Were you aware that a certain omega left the barracks with a stranger months ago when we left on our assignment?” He can’t quite bring himself to use your name, the thought of it making anger flare in him again. 

Dr. Keller’s brows furrow as she glances up at him, slowing her pace. “No, I had no idea.” She shakes her head. 

“A certain general also came to visit. Wanted to ‘check on the status of our pack’s progress.’ She went to see him alone.” He glances down at her. “Do you know anything about that?” 

“Of course not.” She says, stopping in her tracks. “Even if I did, you would have been the first to know, whether or not I thought you knew about it. I know what these people are like. If I knew he was here, I would assume he sought her out too. I wouldn’t put it past him to invade the barracks because he felt like he had a right to as both your commanding officer and one of the heads of the initiative.” 

He stares down at her for a long moment, holding her gaze. She’s smart, more aware than he’d given her credit for. Though, he supposes, one can never be too careful in her position.  The Keller siblings are alike, he muses. 

She doesn’t look away from him, even in his angry state. She doesn’t waver, doesn’t shy away. She’s not lying, he decides. He knows what liars look like, and she’s far too comfortable staring at him for someone that might be guilty. She’s not intimidated by him, not even a bit uneasy now that she has an understanding of the reason for his anger. 

“Some soldier, an American she said, entered the barracks and took her to meet General Shepherd.” He says, still holding her gaze. “While she was gone, someone bugged her room with cameras and recording devices.” 

Her eyes widen in surprise. “What?” She breathes the word in shock. So this was news to her too. 

“She found them and hid them from us. For months she knew and she didn’t say anything.” He’s trying not to sound accusing, but he can’t help it. He needs to hear her say it. The anger is still simmering under the surface. Anger at you, anger at whoever put those cameras up. 

Dr. Keller shakes her head, still fearlessly facing down his simmering anger. “She didn’t say anything to me either. I may be a firm believer in doctor-patient confidentiality, but there are some things that necessitate the breaking of those laws. Those include things that put patients, or others, in danger. I would have told you if I knew.” 

John stares at her for a moment. There’s no lie, no deception in her face or her tone. “I know.” He finally says, relaxing a bit in his anger. He can never be too careful, but he doubts now that Dr. Keller had any hand in this, much less knew about it before they did. 

“You think there’s something deeper going on behind the scenes, Captain?” She asks, almost reading his mind. 

“John.” He says. It’s been long enough that she can call him by name. “I know there is.” He says, letting out a sigh. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while. Pulling all four of us for a mission that would have only needed two so soon after her heat? General Shepherd just happening to show up unannounced at the same time? The incessant emails requiring an in depth report on the status of our pack...” 

“How long have those emails been coming in?” She asks cautiously. 

“Two weeks.” He says, a frown forming on his own face. “You’ve been getting them too?” 

She nods. “Two weeks of formal requests for all of my records and notes relating to my patient. Something is going on, John. Yesterday, a formal request from General Shepherd for access to all documents, records, and notes regarding my patient was delivered by an American soldier.” She shakes her head. “They gave me 48 hours to deliver before I get removed from the initiative.” 

John stares at her, his frown deepening. He’d been handed a similar document yesterday as well. A formal request for the in depth report before disciplinary action would be taken. He’s been loath to think what that action might be. He’d tear them all limb from limb if they ever tried to go after you. He doubts they would sink that far, not if they’re so dedicated to the success of whatever experiment they’re unwilling guinea pigs in. They’re far too interested in you and your integration into the pack to take that risk. They just want more...detailed information, and not just from him. 

Detailed enough they may have put cameras up in your room. 

He lets out a sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “Send them.” 

She blinks at him. “What?” 

“Send the files.” He steps closer, lowering his voice. “She can’t lose you. She needs someone she trusts. I need someone I trust in on this.” 

“You think she’s hiding something else?” She asks. 

“She hid this from us.” He says. “I don’t want to say I don’t trust her, but if she lied about this so easily...” 

Dr. Keller makes a face. John knows she’s the last person that wants to do this, but they may not have much of a choice. Your safety is on the line. They need to know, and John knows you trust her. Not enough to reveal the cameras, but perhaps Dr. Keller can coax other things out of you that may have happened. John knows you’re telling them the truth about what happened when they were gone. With your reactions, he has no doubt about that. He just can’t be too careful now that he knows how easily you lied, how easily you hid things from them. He needs to know. He needs to be sure. 

He hates how you reacted to his anger, how close you were to distressing there in his office. As angry as he was, he would have helped you. He wouldn’t have let you succumb to that. You were afraid, you are afraid. It almost hurts him more that you were scared enough to try and hide out of shame. 

“It’s for her own safety.” John says. 

She lets out a sigh, nodding. “I’ll see what I can get out of her. I don’t doubt she’ll want to talk about this.” 

“Let her tell you.” John says. “If you reveal you know, she may hide out of shame again.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “That was my thought exactly.”

“Keep me posted.” John says. “I’ve got some digging to do. You should check your office, make sure no one hid cameras in there as well.” 

“I will.” She nods. “John?” She calls as he begins to walk away. He turns back to look at her. “Be careful.” 

He nods once before turning back around. He feels slightly better now, after talking to Dr. Keller. She hadn’t known either, just as in the dark about everything as they were. They’re in the same boat, having gotten the same threats from General Shepherd for information. He wants to write it off as being necessary for the initiative, to garner more information about how to best proceed with integration once it's greenlit. He doesn't want to think too much into the conspiracies forming, the existing ones being fed by this new development. He’s no stranger to questioning direct orders, going against them, but this time he may not have a choice. 

He lets out a sigh, running his hand over his face again. He has a report to write. 

You can’t move. Sweat is beading on your forehead but you’re still shaking and shivering. You’re immobilized, wrapped in a blanket burrito laid out on the couch. The tears have stopped, your face tight and swollen as they dry on your skin. Your gaze is far away, not focused on anything even as Simon and Johnny tear apart the rec room, checking every inch for any hidden cameras and recording devices. 

They’ve been going through the whole barracks, room by room, turning them upside down looking for any that might have been put up. You don’t know if they’ve found any, and you’re incapable of caring right now. You’re not sure which is worse, that there might be others that have gone unnoticed because you didn’t say anything, or if the cameras were exclusively placed in your room. 

Kyle is seated at your feet. He’s angry. It’s not hard to tell. He hasn’t touched you since he rolled you up in the blanket, electing to sit as far from you as he can. He’s been staring into the distance just as you have, his knee bouncing. You’ve betrayed him, just as you’ve betrayed everyone. The thought makes you sick, your stomach rolling again. You cough, trying to hold down the bile. There’s nothing left in your stomach. Your mouth is dry, lips cracked. He hasn’t offered you any water, and even if you weren’t restrained, you’re not sure you could find it in you to move and get some. 

The mood shifts as John appears in the doorway, your eyes moving automatically to look at him. The angry cloud that had permeated his scent is gone, though you can tell from his face the emotions haven’t left. Not completely. 

“Found anything?” He asks, addressing Johnny and Simon who are both placing the books on the shelves again. 

“Nothing.” Simon says. “Not even a recording device.” 

“You checked the vents?” John asks. 

“Vents, electronics, lights.” Johnny says. “Nothing.” 

A broken whimper leaves your throat. So it was just your room that was bugged. The thought is worse than the idea there were others in the barracks that have gone unnoticed. Whoever had placed them had done it purposefully to watch you. It makes your stomach churn again and you shift on the couch, leaning over more in case you puke again. They’ll make you clean it, but you don’t care, not right now. 

Boots appear in your vision before John takes a seat on the coffee table in front of you. He lets out a quiet sigh before reaching forward, his fingers brushing your cheek. You flinch, ready for something worse, but his touch is light. He brushes your hair off your sweaty forehead, the tenderness a shocking change from the anger he had been burning with earlier. 

“What you did was dangerous.” He says, making you flinch slightly at his words. “Leaving the barracks with a stranger was stupid, but nothing compared to hiding the cameras from us. Part of our job is to keep you safe, but we can’t do that when you lie to us.” He pulls his hand back, resting his arms on his knees. “Your safety is paramount. Your anonymity is vital and if someone put those cameras up with the intent of revealing your existence and ties to us, that could get you killed.” 

You flinch at his words again, wanting to cry but you have no tears left. He’s right. You were stupid for hiding the cameras. You don’t know who put them up or why. It could wind up getting you hurt in the future. You’re vulnerable when they leave, even if one of them stays with you. A sneak attack could leave you unguarded. Your only chance would be to run, but where would you go? You couldn’t put Dr. Keller at risk like that. Could you trust the other soldiers would defend you and not take advantage of the situation? 

What if they’re involved? What if they put them up for their own sick entertainment? 

You make a horrible choking noise as bile rises in your throat, burning your already raw esophagus. You’re going to puke again, all over John’s boots. 

John shifts so he’s kneeling on the floor, cupping your face and turning it to look at him. His palms are warm on your clammy skin, your inability to read him through his scent making you uneasy. The sting of scent blocker burns your nose, and you can’t tell if he put it on purposefully. Was his anger too much, was the risk of sending you into distress so high that he had to hide that anger before it overwhelmed you? 

“Look at me.” He says softly, softer than when he said it earlier in his office. His eyes are softer, almost back to the stare you recognize. “What happens next is important.” He’s not just speaking to you, he’s speaking to everyone. “There’s things going on that I can’t be certain of yet. Finding the last of those cameras may set some things in motion. We have to be on guard and aware. Anything suspicious goes on, we need to know about it and take care of it. Even if it’s just a feeling.” His thumbs brush your cheeks, calluses scraping against your tingling skin. “Your safety is our prime concern. Whoever did this wanted eyes on you. We need to know why.” He lowers his head slightly, looking you in the eyes. “If there’s anything else, we need to know. Anything. We need the truth. All of it.” 

They think you might be a spy. 

They don’t say it directly, but you know that’s at least part of what they’re asking. Nothing is off the table anymore. Any conspiracy they may have shrugged off before has a chance of being real. Every little thought, every little tickle in the back of their brain now has the possibility of being real until the truth gets unveiled. You’re just as in the dark as they are. In fact, you probably know less than they do. 

A prickling begins at the base of your spine, slowly crawling its way up your back to your brain. Your blood runs cold, goosebumps forming on your skin as your breath hitches. You’re not sure how you didn’t put things together sooner. Maybe it was the fear in the moment blocking out all rational thought, making you blind to things that should have been glaringly obvious in the moment. 

You should have said something sooner. 

“There is one thing.” You say, staring at John with wide eyes. Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest, so hard you’re scared it might thump right through your chest cavity. Your voice shakes, your fingers going numb where they’re trapped against your sides. You’re starting to feel claustrophobic, the blanket around you becoming constricting, like it’s keeping you from possibly running, possibly escaping from the realization that’s slammed into you like a train.

John’s brows furrow just slightly, a movement that would have gone unnoticed had you not been locked onto his face. You can see the subtle shift, the change from John into Captain Price again. He’s thinking the worst, expecting what they had all been silently thinking. 

“Something Kate said before we boarded the helicopter in London.” You continue, taking their silence as an invitation to drop the bomb you’re about to blow this whole thing up with. 

“What did she say?” John asks, shifting slightly where he’s kneeling. 

You take in a shaky breath, your hands curling into fists. Their eyes are all on you, waiting with bated breath. The anticipation is palpable, all of them, even you, on edge, waiting for what you’re about to drop on them, what you’re about to admit to. They’re questioning all of their partnerships, their relationships. They’re questioning Kate, they’re questioning you. Can either of you really be trusted? Can anyone be trusted? 

“She told me to do what I need to do, because they’ll be watching me.” You say. 

The silence hangs heavy in the air. It’s thick and heavy as your words sink in, as they all come to the realization you just had. The double meaning of those words should have been obvious. They should have been at the front of your mind as soon as you found the cameras, yet you had forgotten entirely about your short conversation, the silent warning. Did Kate know they would be literally watching, planting cameras and spying on you? Or had she simply been referring to how they would be waiting to see how things progressed, eagerly waiting for the many reports John has had to send over the last few months since your arrival on base. 

John pulls his hands from your face, resting his arm on his knee for a moment. He’s thinking just as hard as you are, the pieces beginning to fall into place. He’s questioning the same things you are. Was Kate more involved in this than she let on? Or was she as unaware as you all were? Are you all pawns, or does Kate have a hand on the chess board as well? Did she pick you because she knew enough about the initiative to choose you above all the others?

Was this why she chose you? Did she think you were smart enough to figure the truth out on your own? 

You’ve never cursed your fear and anxiety more than you are right now. 

“I have some things I need to do.” John says, letting out a sigh. “I want you to stay here. You don’t leave these barracks unless they are on fire, understood?” 

You nod. “Understood.” 

“Good.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. He looks between Kyle, Johnny, and Simon. “One of you stays, the other two follow me.” 

“I’ll stay.” Johnny says, glancing down at you before looking back at John. 

John pats his shoulder before leaving the rec room, Simon and Kyle following. He watches them go before letting out a sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit. You can’t look at him, face his disappointment anymore, the hurt in his eyes. You wiggle on the couch, trying to get a limb free so you can unwrap the burrito you’ve been encased in. It’s too constricting, too hot. 

You begin to roll, gravity betraying you as the end of the couch begins to sink from your body. You wince in preparation for hitting the floor on your face, praying the blanket is thick enough to keep you from slamming your head back onto the tile. You wince even as hands push you back the other way, rolling you towards the back of the couch again. Those hands untuck the edge of the blanket, slowly unrolling you from your fuzzy prison. 

Your face still feels tight from your tears, your mouth dry from the copious amounts of salty liquid that you’ve lost over the last two hours. You push yourself up to sit, maneuvering the blanket out from under you. 

“Will you get me some water?” You ask quietly, half expecting him to say no, to get it yourself. 

He does move to the fridge though, grabbing a bottle before moving back to the couch. Johnny sinks down on the cushion, sitting as far as he can from you as he passes you the bottle. You unscrew the cap, chugging the water as fast as you can. The cool liquid hurts your throat but you can’t stop, and Johnny makes no move to stop you. 

He’s not looking at you, his elbow resting on the arm of the couch, his chin resting on his fist as he stares at the far corner of the room. You don’t know what to say as you finish the bottle, the plastic crinkling in the silence as you screw the cap back on. You’re not sure you should say anything. 

You know Johnny can be a ticking time bomb. You haven’t seen him angry very many times, but he burns hot with it in those rare moments when you have seen it. It’s never been directed at you before, and you’d like to assume it never will be, even now. You can’t sense any anger, even with your stuffy nose. The scent slipping through isn’t laced with the sharp, almost burning scent of beta anger.

He’s not angry, you think. He’s disappointed. 

It almost hurts worse. 

You lean over slowly, keeping your eyes on him as you set the empty bottle on the coffee table before curling up against the other arm of the couch. You feel like crying again, but you have no tears left. Your stomach is still churning, the events of the last two hours still feeling unreal. You’d spilled the secret you’ve been keeping for months to Simon, who of course told the rest of your pack. You were interrogated, placed in the path of their anger and disappointment in you. Then your worst fears were confirmed and there were cameras you missed, ones that could have been spying on you for months, violating your privacy after you thought you were safe. 

You never were safe, keeping this secret. This goes deeper than you think it does. 

Now that you know what you know, it’s not impossible to see that. You’ve been delaying this for months by not confessing to them right away. Is it worse, or perhaps it’s better that you delayed this probing into the depths of this initiative, into who could possibly be behind the violation, the invasion of the pack’s sacred spaces. The last thing you want is your pack to get hurt, for it to be your fault. 

Will it be your fault because you held off for so long? 

You won’t be able to live with yourself if something happens to them. 

“Why did ye do it?” Johnny’s voice pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts. “Why did ye keep this from us?” 

You swallow thickly, your mouth feeling dry again despite the water you had just chugged. “I was afraid.” You say, the same thing you told John. “I let my irrational fears take over.” 

“We wouldnae been mad at ye.” Johnny says, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “Still aren’t.” His voice softens. “Was right glaikit of ye, but John is right. We want tae keep ye safe. Cannae do tha’ if yer keeping secrets.” 

“I know it was stupid.” You say. “I wish I hadn’t hidden it.” The water you chugged is threatening to come back up as your stomach churns. “If anything happened to any of you because of it...” 

Johnny scoffs, finally turning to look at you. “We’ll be fine. It’s ye we have tae worry about. Someone’s keeking at ye. We need tae find out who it is and put a stop to it.” His hand curls into a fist where it rests against his thigh. “I’d like tae know who so I can...” He trails off, punching his hand against his leg. 

“Beat them up?” You offer. 

“Nae, they don’t deserve to live after this.” He says, his voice lower than it had been before. 

A chill runs down your spine at the obvious shift in him. You’ve never really seen this side of them, the side that comes out in the field when they shift into soldiers on a mission. No hesitation, no remorse. Killers. 

You know that, deep down. You’ve been living with that reality since you first learned where you were being assigned. It’s easy to look the other way, to ignore the things they’ve done, the things they will continue to do, because it’s never involved you. You were innocent to it all, kept in the dark, staying home while they go off and do whatever atrocities are necessary in order to maintain world peace, or whatever it is they tell themselves to rationalize it.

Now it does involve you. 

How far will they go to hunt down who put up those cameras? What happens if they do figure out who it was, if they uncover the reason why they were put up in the first place? Blood is going to be shed over this, you knew that as soon as you pulled the bag of cameras from under your sink and handed them off to Simon. Maybe you knew that deep down as soon as you found them. Maybe that’s why you had held off for so long, determined to keep this a secret as long as you possibly could. 

Blood is going to be shed because of you. 

You’re not sure you can stomach that thought, even if whoever did this does deserve it. 

“I spoke to Kate.” John says, folding his hands on his desk, squeezing his fingers together. “She’s claiming innocence in this. She wasn’t aware of any orders made from the initiative for surveillance of our omega.” 

“You trust her?” Simon asks, crossing his arms. 

“We may not have much of a choice.” John squeezes his fingers harder, so hard they turn white. “I’ve sent the cameras off to her. See if she can trace where the footage was being routed to.” 

“You’re sure that’s a good idea?” Kyle asks, glancing between John and Simon. 

“I’ve known Kate for a long time. I like to trust she wouldn’t hide something like this from us. Not to this extent.” John answers. 

“She knew something.” Simon says. “Enough to try and give a warning.” 

“She could have meant a lot of things.” John sighs. “If she meant it literally...we’ll never really know. If she was blind to this like we were, you bet your arse she’ll dig until she finds the truth behind all of this.” 

“The doctor?” Simon asks. John knows he’s never entirely trusted Dr. Keller. Trust doesn’t come easy for him. He’s absolutely shattered over this. 

“She wasn’t aware of any of this either. I trust her on that.” John says before Simon can interject. “She’s just as deep in this as we are.” John pulls the manilla folder out of his desk, pulling out the orders. “Both of us got orders directly from General Shepherd. Hers was a command to send copies of all of her notes and records within 48 hours or she’d be removed from the initiative.” 

“What is she going to do?” Kyle asks. 

“I told her to send them.” John says, holding out his own orders to Simon. 

“You think Shepherd is involved in all of this?” Kyle asks. 

“Speculation won’t get us anywhere.” John says. But it’s hard not to think so.

“We can’t trust anyone.” Simon passes the orders to Kyle. 

“We have to be careful.” John says. “We have no leads on any of this. Until we know more, we leave the probing to Kate.” 

“You think she’s telling the whole truth?” Simon asks, staring down at John. He doesn’t need to specify who he’s talking about. 

“Yes.” John nods. “She’s scared enough as is, I don’t think she could hide anything else, even if she wanted to. She made a stupid decision, but we’re hardly innocent either. I think it was almost better that she kept it a secret until now. Had we jumped into this sooner, it may have been far more conspicuous, and it could have been written off easily. Whoever is behind it has known that she’s known for months now. They were banking on her keeping it a secret. Now they know that we know, so it’s their turn to make a move.” 

“They make the move first, they risk revealing themselves.” Kyle says. 

“Exactly. Forcing their hand is too much of a risk for now.” John says, looking between them. “We wait for them to make a move while we continue to dig for answers. If nothing else, it will force their hand.” 

“What do we do in the meantime?” Simon asks. 

“They’ve targeted our omega. We have to protect her. She doesn’t leave our sight. One of us has to stay with her always. We keep her in the barracks unless we have no other choice. Be vigilant. Anyone looks slightly suspicious, you tell me. Whoever put those cameras in there was bold enough to enter the barracks in the first place. I don’t doubt they’ll try again, even with us here.” John pushes himself up to stand. “Keep an eye on her. I’ll debrief Johnny.” 

You feel a bit like a prisoner. 

You know they don’t mean to, but with their lingering and their constant watching, it’s like they’re waiting for you to mess up again, waiting for you to do something suspicious. You’re afraid to even move too much. You’d eaten in the barracks again, John staying with you while the others went to get dinner. The food hadn’t been very appetizing, but you knew you had to eat. John was serious about keeping you in the barracks for now, though with what’s happened recently, you can hardly complain. 

You’re curled up on one side of the couch, Kyle sitting on the other. Simon is in his usual spot in the chair, only sitting closer to you out of necessity. Kyle is on his phone, the room quiet aside from the evening news playing on the TV. Kyle hasn’t said much to you, still hurting from your distrust and betrayal. Simon hasn’t said anything at all, and you know you’ve lost all the trust you’ve built up with him over the last few weeks. You don’t blame either of them for being upset with you, disappointed in you. Part of you wishes they were still angry. The disappointment hurts worse than being yelled at. 

You rest your head on the arm of the couch, your eyes burning after spending a good portion of the day crying so hard you made yourself sick. The exhaustion is beginning to settle in, your eyes fluttering as you fight to stay awake, listening to the news anchor delivering the latest breaking news. 

“Breaking news, an Austrian tourist was found dead in his hotel room this morning. Authorities say there’s no leads as of yet as to what caused his death...” 

Your eyes close, sleep beginning to fog at the edges of your mind. You’re going to lose the battle against it quickly. 

“I killed an Austrian once.” Simon says, the words barely registering in your quickly numbing mind. “Big fucker. Shitty sniper, but the t-shirt over his face probably didn’t help...”

You have no choice but to give in, your body going lax as you’re finally pulled into the depths of sleep. 

You jump when a hand gently shakes your arm. Sleep still clouds your mind as you look around, desperately trying to find whatever it was that disturbed you. 

“Time for bed.” A quiet voice says as you blink desperately against the bright lights assaulting your eyes. 

The attempt to say something comes out as a garbled sound. The news is still playing in the background, meaning you haven’t been asleep for long. 

“Come on.” The fingers wrap around your arm gently, easing you up onto your feet. 

Your legs barely get under you to hold you up, your eyes squinting as you try to clear them enough to see what’s happening. A quiet groan leaves your lips as you rub your face, awareness starting to creep back in as you force your body to move. 

You follow the blurry figure out of the rec room, shuffling along behind it. You want nothing more than to crawl into a bed and sleep for the next sixteen hours. You want the comfort of your nest but you don’t have that anymore. 

You pause for a second, your brain snapping into awareness at the thought. You don’t have a nest anymore. It’s gone, the safety and security of it broken once again. The thought makes your skin crawl, your body wanting to sink in on itself. Your nest is gone. It’ll never be the same again. 

“Come on.” John says again, guiding you down the hall towards his room. You let him lead you, the back of your neck prickling. 

Anger bubbles inside of you. Not sadness, not depression, not grief. Anger. Anger at whoever broke in and planted those cameras. Anger at whoever invaded your private space. Anger at yourself for not telling them sooner. It makes you feel violated and angry. 

John ushers you into his room, not missing the frown on your face. A few of your things have been moved into his room, likely because you wouldn’t be spending much time, if any, in your room for a while. It’s like a crime scene now. Ripped apart again just as it had been when you found the cameras the first time. The floor littered with stuffing from your pillows and plushes, furniture rearranged. The scene of a massacre. 

The perfect picture of the violation of your privacy and the destruction of your safe space. 

John closes the door behind you before ushering you to his bathroom. You get ready for bed, the anger fading to numbness as you change into one of his shirts. You want to shower, but you don’t have the energy for that. With your luck, you’ll fall asleep and need to make a visit to the medical center. 

You’re hesitant as you exit the bathroom, tugging at the hem of the shirt. John has changed into his usual sleep pants, electing to wear a shirt this time. It makes you flinch involuntarily. Things really have regressed that far back now. The only reason you’re sleeping in here is because they can’t leave you alone without the risk of something happening to you. 

Maybe you should offer to sleep on the floor. That might make things easier on the both of you. 

“Here.” John says, holding something out to you. 

You stare at it for a long moment, at the pink and green fuzzy fabric. You reach out for it hesitantly, wrapping your arms around the strawberry pillow you had counted as a loss. You counted most of your nest as a loss. 

“Johnny is working on sewing them back together.” John explains. “All except the two we found surveillance equipment in. Your big bear was innocent.” He says. “Johnny just needs extra stuffing for that one.” 

You hold the strawberry against your chest, trying to comprehend his words. They were fixing your plushes and your pillows? You’re not quite sure what to think. On one hand you’re glad they’re not a total loss, but at the same time, you’re not sure you can trust them again. They have been thoroughly checked, obviously if they were being fixed up again, but the thought of them staring at you, listening to you...

“Johnny’s fixing them?” Is all you can manage to get out. 

John’s lips pull up in a smirk. “Thought you’d appreciate it.” He puts a hand on your back, turning you towards the bed. “Come on. You’re exhausted.” 

You are. The sleep is probing at your mind again, making your eyes burn. As much as you want to protest, to offer up sleeping on the floor, you let yourself be guided to the bed, climbing onto the mattress. You shove the strawberry into the corner before you settle in, laying facing the wall. John turns off the light, the room going dark. Your nightlight is plugged in on John’s desk, casting a soft glow that pushes away the threatening darkness. 

John doesn’t wrap his arm around you, keeping as much space as he can from you. It hurts, tears stinging your eyes as you lay there. You shift your hand up, fingers reaching for the strawberry. You wish you had a bear, something smaller to clutch to your chest, to push away the anguish you’re feeling. 

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, fingers brushing the soft fabric of the strawberry. “I should have known better, I should have-” 

“Don’t.” He interrupts you, shifting behind you. “You didn’t trust us because you didn’t know better. You’ve been betrayed and traumatized by the people you trusted in the past for things that were out of your control. You were made to believe that it was your mistake that caused everything that happened in your life since your presentation. You were traumatized by authority figures that were supposed to help you and support you.” 

You feel a bit like you’re in a session with Dr. Keller rather than in bed with John. You might have assumed he had spoken to Dr. Keller himself, but you know how knowledgeable and aware and analytical John is. He can read situations quickly, something you know was born from his experience and his training. 

“Of course your first instinct would be to hide your mistakes.” He continues. “You’ve been punished for them before.” His fingers brush your arm, making you flinch. 

It’s not the only reason you flinch, however. You’ve never told him, never explicitly laid it out, but you’re not surprised he knows. He’s aware of everything, always watching, always assessing, just like Simon. They’re all aware, but the two alphas seem to have almost an extra sense when it comes to the pack and others outside of it. It’s part of the job, but it also seems to extend past that. 

Alpha instincts. 

“Get some sleep.” John says, finally wrapping his arm around you. “We’ll deal with everything else in the morning. 

Nearly a week goes by and you’ve heard nothing else regarding the cameras, or your mistake. Johnny and Kyle have forgiven you, warming back up to you, not quite to where they were before, but more than they had been that day. John is distant, not in emotion but physically. He’s been spending a lot of time in his office, Simon coming and going frequently. It’s about the cameras, you figure, or perhaps they’re digging into who might be behind it. They’re not just going to leave it at that. They wouldn’t tolerate a slight against their omega, much less someone invading the pack’s territory like that. 

Simon...he’s still distant, closed off, hardly looking at you unless it’s entirely necessary. He’s reverted back to how he was before, and it’s tearing you up inside. More than the knowledge that you made a mistake, more than the knowledge you broke their trust, more than the knowledge that they’re upset with you. You made it so far with Simon, and now it’s all come unraveled and it’s all your fault. 

You want to speak with him, but you don’t know how. You’re almost afraid to, like acknowledging him might set off the bomb ticking inside him.  

What if he’s waiting for you to break the silence again? 

You’re not brave enough to do it. Not so soon. You’re afraid of pushing too much, of ruining things more than you already have. 

Besides Simon, things are slowly moving back to normal. The rift that had begun to form is slowly closing, sealing back up before any more damage is done. You still regret it, still hate yourself for causing it in the first place. It’s your fault this scar will always remain in your bonds, always there, always a reminder of your stupidity and your fear. 

Guilt is eating you alive, and you know all of them can tell. 

They’re all uncomfortable, still very much intune to you despite everything. It’s hard to break those instincts, even with the scar left on the bond. Even Simon has to be feeling it, despite his regression, despite his attempts not to. It’s not hard to miss that Johnny is trying to goad him to at least go easy on you, to lighten his still swirling emotions towards you. 

He doesn’t trust easily, and you’ve betrayed the trust you so carefully built, betrayed that vulnerability he showed towards you. 

The knowledge of what you’ve done to him is almost worse than everything else.  

“Hey.” Fingers snap in front of your face, making you yelp as you jump back into awareness. You clutch your hand to your chest, trying to stop yourself from diving straight into a panic attack. You’ve been on edge since the reveal, jumpy even around your pack. You know they'd never let anything happen, but with their hovering and constant watching you can’t help but be a bit panicky in response. 

Johnny shifts where he’s sitting on the couch, sensing your change in emotion. “Didnae have to give her a heart attack, Si.” He says. 

“Price needs you in his office.” Simon says, ignoring Johnny. He moves out into the hall, waiting for you to get up. 

You swallow thickly, trying to calm your racing heart before you push yourself up to stand, nerves starting to twist in your stomach. It’s the first time you’ve been in John’s office since your confession and you’re not quite sure what to expect. You feel like if it was something serious, everyone would be gathering there. 

Or perhaps they already did and now it’s your turn. 

Simon walks you down the hall, their hovering not allowing you to even go to the bathroom without one of them following. You know it’s partially because they have to be vigilant and leaving you alone leaves you vulnerable to anyone that might not be happy with the cameras being discovered. Whoever is behind it knows that the others know now. There’s been no nightly visitors, no wiggling of the doorknob, no sneaking into the barracks like there had been when you were alone. They put their own cameras up, watching and waiting for someone to be stupid enough to try something. They’re ready and waiting, yet you’re all on edge, waiting for it to happen. With so many unknowns, it’s hard to guess when or how it will happen. 

While you don’t know any details directly, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. 

Simon opens the door for you when John calls for you to enter, letting you go through before closing the door behind you. The air feels heavy, the energy in the office low. You shift nervously on your feet, staring at John. He looks tired, exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. It’s been a long week for everyone, and you don’t doubt he’s been feeling it the most. 

He stands up from his desk, approaching you slowly. You can sense something, something off, something bothering him. It puts you on edge, your stomach starting to churn nervously. You expect a lecture, or him to yell at you for something, or him to get angry, but that’s not it. He’s frustrated, but not at you. 

Has he figured something out? Gotten an answer as to why, or maybe who was behind all of this? Is he about to tell you he has to send you off, hide you away while they deal with this new development? Separate you from the pack for your own safety? 

He stops in front of you, his hands closing lightly around your arms. He stares down at you for a long moment as you look up at him with a concerned face. Something stirs in your chest, anticipating bad news. Something’s happened. They have to send you back, the discovery of the cameras has started the decommissioning of the initiative. You’ve fucked everything up somehow, and now you’re about to pay the price one way or another. 

John lets out a sigh, squeezing your arms tightly as if he’s trying to keep you from floating away. You’re expecting the worst, your heart thumping in your chest as you swallow thickly. 

“Kyle and I are being shipped out on an assignment.” He finally says, dropping a bomb worse than any of the others you had been anticipating. “I don’t know when we’ll be back.” 

NEXT ->

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happy werewolf transgenderism wednesday

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TIL Dr. Sigmund Freud was addicted to smoking and failed to quit for good throughout a 45 years long battle that included 33 operations for cancer of the jaw, an artificial jaw replacement, and attacks of “tobacco angina” exacerbated by nicotine . He was known to smoke up to twenty cigars a day.

via reddit.com

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Do y’all think siblings in medieval times would look at the little beasts in illuminated manuscripts and point at each other like ‘ha! ‘Tis thou!’

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Guys, let's make a sandwich. I'll start:

Bread

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 29: There's Something Wrong With My Omega

Summary: Things after your heat begin to go back to normal...but you know better than to think that will last long.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 10,708 words

Warnings: Suggestive content, kissing, the reader's daddy kink showing itself briefly, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has a panic attack, grief, kneeling, angst, fluff, massive time jumps, brief paranoia, my bad attempts at Scottish slang, angst

A/N: So we're covering a lot of ground with this one in favor of getting to the good stuff. I've put references when there's time jumps relative to the reader's most recent heat. So, for example, "six weeks after" is six weeks post the reader's heat. This was originally going to be two chapters, but then I decided to just smash it into one to avoid dragging things out further. So yeah. Get your tissues, get your ice cream and settle in for this wonderful ride.

ALSO, This will be the last time I'm using the taglist, follow HERE if you'd like to get notifications for new posts

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A Few Days After

You’re like two pups, huddled together under a pile of blankets. The muscle relaxer kicked in an hour ago and you’ve been softly snoring since. Johnny’s arm is tossed over your back, keeping you pinned to his chest as he snores against your head. He’s probably drooling on your hair, but after this last week, it’s probably not the worst thing you’ve been covered in. 

You’ve both just showered, your hair still damp against your pillow. Johnny’s mohawk is plastered against his head, strands sticking to his forehead. It needs a trim again.

John lets out a quiet sigh, shifting in your desk chair as he adjusts the ice pack between his legs. He’s sore, more sore than he had been the first time. You’d put them all through the wringer the week before your pre-heat started, and you’d put him through the wringer during the week of your heat. Maybe Kyle was right, maybe he is getting old. 

He shakes the thought away, staring at the slow and steady rise and fall of your side as you breathe. You’d cried for longer this time, the tears still streaming as he fed you small bites of mash and mushy peas. He had been worried you might choke as your inhales caught and shuddered, but you ate albeit begrudgingly. The next few days you spent in an exhaustion and muscle relaxer induced haze. You woke long enough to eat and use the bathroom, but then you crawled back into bed and napped. Johnny has been a constant presence in your room, having crawled into your nest after they got you settled the first day to cuddle. 

This morning you had been awake for longer, downing some porridge before the ache settled in and John gave you another muscle relaxer. He’d gotten you to down another electrolyte drink before the muscle relaxer kicked in, and before Johnny joined you so the two of you could cuddle up like a couple of pups to nap. 

“You should take a break.” Simon says softly where he’s leaning up against your closet. “Get some rest yourself.” 

John grunts quietly, sinking down further in the chair. He should, yet he can’t bring himself to step away. Things do feel different this time, though he’s not sure if that’s normal, or if Kyle’s participation had shifted things slightly. Did their reactions to your heat change depending on the heat? Did your own symptoms change heat to heat? He has half a mind to call Dr. Keller, get her opinion and ask for her advice. You don’t seem different, aside from the lingering symptoms. He feels different though, and Kyle had lingered a bit longer than he needed to. 

“She’ll be fine.” Simon says, John’s body tensing as his second alpha places a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed Simon’s approach, not that he was all that far away to begin with. “I’ll stay with them.” 

John knows Simon won’t let anything happen to you. Logically he knows Simon would do everything in his power to keep you safe, and physically he’d be more capable. Yet John finds himself hesitating, still watching the rise and fall of your body as you breathe. 

“You know I’ll alert you if anything happens.” Simon says, trying to reassure him. 

It’s nothing personal. John just can’t seem to bring himself to move. 

“I know.” He says quietly, finally pulling his gaze from you. “Things...feel different now.” 

“Could just be the exhaustion.” Simon offers, trying to think up an explanation for John’s obvious inner conflict. “Go take a nap. You need it.” Simon squeezes his shoulder gently, massaging his thumb into John’s tense muscles. He could use a good massage. Maybe another hot bath too. 

“Perhaps you’re right.” John murmurs, pulling the ice pack from his aching balls before standing. “You’ll wake me?” He asks, turning to face Simon. 

“Course.” Simon nods, giving him as much of a reassuring look as he can manage. 

John takes one last look at you, sleeping peacefully tucked in Johnny’s arms, the blankets wrapped around you both. You’ll be warm enough, with Johnny’s puppy-like warmth, and nothing will happen under Simon’s watchful gaze. Kyle will be back in soon after his own nap. Maybe he should crawl in with Kyle for a bit. Maybe that will help ease his mind. 

John forces himself to look away, not even bothering to take the ice pack back to the rec room before slipping into Kyle’s room. 

Simon turns the pages quietly, being careful not to disrupt either of you as you nap. He’d pulled a book off your desk to mind the time while he lets Price sleep. His fellow alpha needs it after the last week. He’s no good to anyone, much less you if he’s exhausted. God forbid they get called into something in the next few days. 

Simon will gladly play babysitter if it gets Price to rest. 

He’s tempted to text Kyle and tell him to keep Price in bed as long as possible, but he knows Price will be mad if he sleeps too much. Simon isn’t sure how Price keeps going for so long. He admires his strength and determination, but he can see how tired he gets, the hunch of his shoulders as he begins to feel the weight he carries, the dark circles under his eyes, how sluggish his movements get. He knows Price secretly dreads your heats, when he’s put out of commission completely, 

As a man of action, he doesn't do well laying low. The few times Simon has seen Price get hurt, he’s always disobeyed orders for bedrest, even for just taking it easy. The man never stops, and Simon was hoping you would change that. 

Price will want to be at his best at all times to ensure you’re well cared for, even if that means sacrificing taking breaks himself. Simon knows he’s struggling. That need to ensure he’s able to take care of his omega combating his need to push through and do his duty. The job comes first. That’s what had been driven like a nail into their brains since they found out they’d be getting an omega. 

How silly they were to think they could uphold that. 

Simon glances up as you move, wiggling your way onto your other side. You settle with a sigh, your back now to Johnny. You’re still gripping your bear, arms wrapped around it tightly. He stares at it for a moment, something prickling in the back of his mind as he stares into the beady eyes. It’s almost like they’re staring back at him, cogniscient and aware. 

He shakes his head, going back to his book. The isolation of the last week must be getting to him finally. 

It’s been an hour since Price left, an hour he’s hopefully spent sleeping. Simon is still dutifully keeping watch, halfway through the book he’d grabbed off your desk. You and Johnny are still sleeping peacefully, Johnny snoring into your pillow with an arm thrown over your side. 

The door opens quietly, Kyle sticking his head in. He glances at the bed before entering the room, padding over to Simon quietly. 

“Still out?” He asks, speaking quietly. 

“Sleeping like pups.” Simon answers. 

“You need a break?” Kyle rubs his eyes, still a bit bleary from his own nap. 

“I’m good.” Simon responds, holding up the book. “You keep Price from doing too much.” 

“You got it, boss.” Kyle smirks, patting his shoulder before leaving the room. 

Simon returns to his book, trusting Kyle to do his duty diligently, even if it means keeping Price in a headlock. He doesn’t doubt they’ve been in that position at least once before, and not during training. 

Another hour passes before you let out a quiet groan. Simon glances at you, watching the frown start to pull at your eyebrows. One arm untangles from around the bear, reaching out to the nightstand. Your fingers find the top, your arm stretching as far as it can, fingers sliding along the surface in search of something. 

Simon marks his place in the book, setting it on the chair before he moves to the bed, kneeling down. He takes your hand, holding it still in an effort not to startle you. “What do you need?” He asks quietly. 

“Water.” You croak, licking your lips. 

Simon grabs one of the electrolyte drinks, screwing the top off before he helps you sit up a little bit. He holds the bottom of the bottle as you grab it, keeping it steady so you don’t dump it all over yourself as you drink. Your eyes are half open, your hair in quite the interesting shape after laying down with it still damp. 

You drink half the bottle before he makes you stop, pulling it away. Soft pants leave your lips as he screws the cap back on the bottle, setting it on the nightstand. 

“Better?” He asks, leaning his arm on his knee. 

You nod, licking the remainder of the drink off your lips before you flop back against the mattress. He watches you for a second before getting back up, taking his spot on the chair once more. 

If you fall back asleep, it’s not for very long. You shift closer to the edge of the bed, the bear falling onto the floor. You let it, laying there with your arm dangling off the side. 

“Simon?” You murmur, staring at him sleepily. 

He grunts, glancing up from the book. Johnny is still fast asleep, almost on his stomach taking up the space you’ve vacated, his arm still tossed over you. 

“What does your mom smell like?” 

The question takes him by surprise. He blinks at you for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. It’s an odd question for a time like this, and he almost writes it off as a half-asleep rambling, but your eyes are fully open now, a bit glossy from sleep, but you’re wide awake.

“Flowers.” He finally answers, drawing forward the memories of her scent as he closes the book resting it on his lap. “Fresh flowers on a warm spring day.” 

You hum quietly, tucking your hand beneath your cheek. “My mom smelled like warm sugar cookies fresh out of the oven.” You say. “And vanilla.” 

So that’s where that soft undertone beneath your scent comes from. He doesn’t say anything, sensing you have more to say. 

“After her heats, when we’d come back from the care facility, the house always smelled like sugar cookies.” You swallow thickly. “Every time after her heat, when she was able to, she’d make us cookies. It was like she was apologizing for what we returned to. Most of us didn’t understand until we were older. My brothers never said anything.” A tear slides down your cheek and you hastily wipe it away. “I’m glad they didn’t.” 

Simon feels a lump starting to form in his throat, threatening to choke him. He doesn’t miss the meaning behind your words. He knows exactly what you mean. He remembers those times, sleeping in the living room with Tommy, pillows over their ears so they didn’t have to listen. The few times they escaped to friends' houses, they returned to angry fists and blood on the floor. His mother never stepped in during those times because she couldn’t. She’d already endured a week of him. She couldn’t take any more. 

Simon didn’t understand it either until he was older. The pain, the suffering, the things mothers try to do to ease the unsettling energy pups endure during heats, or in your case return home to. 

He rises from the chair, setting the book down as he frantically blinks back the tears threatening to cloud his vision. He lets out a breath before moving to the bed, kneeling on the floor again. He tosses the bear across the room, almost like it might listen in, learn some secret it shouldn’t know. 

He reaches out, brushing the hair from your forehead. Johnny shifts slightly behind you, almost like he can sense your emotions in his sleep. Simon isn’t sure what to say as his fingers brush your cheek, wiping away the tear that slides down your face. 

“I miss her.” You whisper, your voice crackling slightly. 

“I know.” Simon says, continuing to wipe the tears as they fall. “If I could find her, if it was safe enough, I would. Though, I’d have to beat the living shit out of your father first.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips. “He deserves it.” You sniffle. “Though, I suppose deep down I don’t hate him completely for his decision. If he hadn’t sent me to the institute, I would have never wound up here.” 

Simon lets out a breath, his fingers faltering against your skin. He hadn’t thought of it that way. If things hadn’t happened as they had, they would have never had you as part of their pack. They wouldn’t have ever known you existed, and you might have wound up somewhere worse. Though things weren’t ideal for how they played out, he supposes the outcome wasn’t that terrible for any of you. 

He is glad things happened this way too, even if he still wants to beat the shit out of your dad. 

“Do you want me to make you cookies?” He asks, his thumb still brushing your cheek. 

“No, that’s okay.” You say, attempting to pull the blanket up further, but Johnny’s weight is hogging it. “I’m more of a brownie person anyway.” 

“Do you want brownies, then?” He asks, shoving Johnny to the side to pull the blanket up. He lets out a snore, mumbling in his sleep before pulling his arm from your waist to tuck it up against his chest. 

“If it’s not too much trouble.” You say, blinking up at him as he tucks the blanket around you. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead through the mask. 

An hour later you're wrapped in a blanket, reclined on the rec room couch with a plate of warm brownies on your chest. Your fingers are sticky with chocolate as you half watch whatever daytime TV is playing, content in your cocoon with your sweet treat. 

“You really make those brownies?” Kyle asks, leaning against the wall across the hall. 

“Nah, bribed one of the chefs to do it.” Simon says, standing next to him. 

“Bribed, or threatened?” Kyle smirks. 

“I asked nicely this time.” Simon says, crossing his arms. “Said it was life or death.”

Kyle's brows raise. “Might be next time with how she's downing them. This will become a thing now.”

Simon shrugs. “Makes her happy after everything. I'll threaten - I mean ask, whatever chef I need to each time.” 

“John is going to worry about her getting cavities.” Kyle watches as you shove an entire brownie into your mouth at once. “Or diabetes.” 

Simon shrugs. “We’ll force some protein in her later. Maybe another vegetable.” 

Johnny turns the corner rubbing his eyes. “Smells fuckin’ braw down here. Like chocolate.” 

“No.” Simon says, grabbing him by the nape and turning him around. “You’re not taking that risk. Last time you tried she drew blood.” He walks Johnny back down the hall. “Might lose a finger this time.” 

Kyle watches them, shaking his head. Johnny had paid for trying to steal your popcorn before your heat started. You caught him on the shoulder with your teeth, biting hard enough to draw blood. That had been an interesting trip to the med center. The best part was you didn’t even look guilty. He’d found you eating the last pieces of popcorn up off the floor. 

He pushes off the wall, entering the rec room. You turn to look at him, giving him a grin with your chocolate stained lips. It’s all over your face but you don’t seem to care as you shove the second to last brownie into your mouth. 

“Taste good?” He asks, sitting on the edge of the couch next to you. 

You nod, licking chocolate off your fingers. It doesn’t do much good, only smearing it further. “Very good.” 

“Stomach hurt yet?” He gives you a look. 

You shake your head. “Nope. Just my pussy.” 

He nearly chokes at your words, having to cover his mouth to hide his laugh, but he’s only partially successful. He takes a couple deep breaths, running his hand down his face to try and keep his composure. You seem to lose your filter in the week before and after your heat. It’s like it removes that last layer of uncertainty that keeps your personality from shining through all the time. 

“It’s almost time for another dose of muscle relaxers.” He says, still trying not to laugh. “If you want another one.” 

You nod, taking a bite out of the last brownie this time. “Mhm.” You nod in agreement, chewing slowly like you’re trying to savor it. Like you couldn’t convince them to get you anything you wanted at any time. “Feel like I was in a helicopter crash.” 

Kyle snorts quietly. “I can imagine.” 

You stop chewing for a moment, blinking at him. “You’ve been in one before?” The words come out around the brownie still in your mouth, barely intelligible but he understands them perfectly. 

“A couple times.” He shrugs. “Fell out of one once too.” 

Your mouth hangs open, the last piece of brownie centimeters from your lips. “Huh?” 

He grins, pushing the brownie so it’s touching your lips. “That’s a story for another time. Finish your brownie then you can take your medication.” 

You shove the last piece into your mouth, staring down at your hands as you chew. Kyle moves the plate from your chest, setting it on the coffee table. You hold your hands out to him. “Sticky.” 

He wraps his fingers around your wrist, bringing your hand to his mouth. He wraps his lips around your finger, swirling his tongue around it to clean off the sweet chocolate. You stare at him wide eyed, mouth slightly parted as he moves to the next finger. He cleans the chocolate off of one hand before moving it out of the way as he leans in. He kisses you, licking the chocolate off of your lips. You whine against his mouth, his other hand catching your other wrist before it can touch him and cover him in chocolate. 

He pulls away, leaving you panting. You pout, chocolate still stuck to your face and hands. “That’s not fair.” 

He smirks, licking the sticky sweetness of his lips. “Almost as sweet as your slick.” 

You stare at him wide eyed, hands still in the air as your mouth hangs open. “Huh?” 

“I’ll go get a rag, clean you up.” He pats your leg before standing. 

“You can’t just leave me with that!” You yell as he heads for the bathroom across the hall. 

He’ll tell you, of course. He might just wait until you’re feeling less sore, though.

2 Weeks After

Two weeks pass and so does the pain in your pelvis. It had dulled to a slight throb by the end of the first week, only rearing its ugly head if you sat on a hard surface. You were back for the most part to your normal routine. Waking up early some mornings for training or running, more like jogging right now, on the other days, then breakfast, then stretching for a bit while the guys go to their own training, or your weekly visits with Dr. Keller. Then lunch, then your free time until dinner, then the guys’ free time before bed. 

It feels good, being back in a semi-normal routine. It makes your omega purr in delight being able to predict and plan around a set schedule. Maybe you are perfect for this lifestyle. 

Maybe Kate had been right in choosing you for this. Maybe the initiative was a good idea. Omegas thrive around routine and schedules and predictability. It’s not hard to understand why omegas aren’t allowed in the military, but perhaps integrating them into packs wouldn’t be as bad of an idea as you once thought. Though, you do wish the food was better sometimes. 

That might just be British food in general, though. 

You do miss America. Even after months away, you still feel that yearning for what you thought of as home. Or maybe you were just yearning for your family, the way things were before you committed a sin in your fathers eyes. It wasn’t hard to tell he wished you were never born, or maybe if you had been another son you wouldn’t have disappointed him. Your brothers didn’t disappoint him, so why did you have to be the one to do it? 

Your half asleep conversation with Simon hasn’t left your mind. You do miss your family, your parents. Despite all his faults and failures, you do miss your dad too. He wasn’t all bad, there were good moments in there, though you don’t think you could ever fully forgive him for forcing you away in shame over something you couldn’t control. If it hadn’t happened, though, you would have never wound up here. Though it wasn’t ideal, you wouldn’t trade your pack for anything. 

That doesn’t stop the subtle ache in your chest at the thought of your mother. Though you know the chances are slim that you would ever get to see her again, you just want to know that she’s alright. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” 

Simon’s words ring in your ears, bringing you back to reality again. The plastic around your wrists snaps off before he stands, holstering his knife quickly.

“Good to know even in these situations you’ll dissociate your way through it.” He says, lifting you right out of the chair and tossing you over his shoulder in one movement. 

“It’s called a coping mechanism.” You yell as he races out of the building and over the finish line. 

He lowers you down off of his shoulder, your legs nearly giving out as your feet hit the concrete floor of the warehouse. You take a deep breath, feeling like your diaphragm has been compressed by the edge of your own tactical vest. 

“Three minutes and fifteen seconds.” John says, writing the time down on his sheet. 

“Not bad, LT.” Johnny says, punching Simon’s shoulder. 

“Let’s see if you can do better.” Simon says, punching his shoulder back, only harder. 

Johnny winces, rubbing his shoulder as Simon steps away. 

“Gimme minute.” You gasp out, leaning against a crate so you can catch your breath. “These vests are not comfortable.” 

“Be worse if it was full gear.” Johnny says. 

You make a face. “Don’t you guys carry like 100 pounds of gear or something?” 

“41 kilos at the most, usually.” Kyle shrugs. 

You blink at him, trying to do the math in your head. You’ve gotten used to trying to convert, though you utilize your phone for it more than anything. Of course you don’t have that right now. It’s tucked away in John’s pocket. 

“Roughly 90 pounds in freedom units.” Johnny says. 

“Ah.” You nod, choosing to ignore his comment for now. “That’s still a lot. I couldn’t carry that.” 

“Luckily you don’t have to.” John says, stepping up to you. “Come on, one more.” He motions with his head. 

You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. At least in this exercise you don’t have to do anything but sit there. You adjust your vest as you follow him into the makeshift house, heading into the room with the chair for the third time. You were playing hostage again, this time in a timed test. Get in, take out the fake targets and then rescue the hostage. They’re firing blanks, but they don’t know what room you’re in so there’s a slight chance you could take a shot still, if they get a bit trigger happy under pressure. 

You plop down in the chair again, holding your hands behind your back. John holds your wrists in one hand, the other securing the zip tie around them. It sends a shiver up your spine, the thoughts of what he could do with a set of ropes flashing through your mind. 

“Alright?” He asks, slipping a finger between your wrists and the zip tie. You could slip out of them easily if you had to. 

“Yeah.” You breathe, leaning your cheek against his hand as he puts it on your shoulder. 

“One more, then we can get lunch.” He squeezes your shoulder gently. 

“Mhm.” You hum before sitting up straight in the chair. 

He leaves you there, closing the door and you wait patiently for the beep of the timer. Your feet tap expectantly as you listen to the door fly open, the crack of blanks being fired. The first round with Kyle had been nerve wracking, your muscles tensing with every loud noise. The three minutes and ten seconds had felt like a lifetime as you waited for the door to fly open and him to rescue you. 

By the second round you knew what to expect, and had even managed to drift off into your thoughts. Of course it had been during Simon’s turn. It was like your brain just automatically drifted off as soon as it realized he was coming. A pavlovian response to his presence. 

The time passing feels like an age as you wait, and you wonder how long it’s really taking Johnny. You had tried counting seconds but had lost count after about a minute. Simon and Johnny were in constant battle for second place, bumping each other up and down the list. Kyle remained in first place in almost all the training you’ve seen or heard about, fast and efficient and forever taunting the competitive Johnny. 

You flinch when the door flies open, Johnny quickly lowering his rifle. “Hi kitten.” He grins as he pulls out his knife, popping the plastic zip tie off your wrists. “Yer hero is here tae save the day.” 

He lifts you over his shoulder before racing out of the crudely built house, your vest digging into your stomach again. It’s making you almost nauseous, the bounce from Johnny running not helping any. 

He sets you on your feet after he crosses the line and you nearly fall backwards from the sudden rush of blood to your head. 

“Three minutes and twelve seconds.” John says, writing the time down. 

“Ha! I did it again!” Johnny says, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Not bad, Sergeant.” Simon says. 

“Not the fastest, though.” Kyle smirks, Johnny just two seconds below his time. 

“I’ll get there.” Johnny says, puffing his chest. “Ye just wait.” 

You tug at the velcro restraints on the vest, managing to get one side undone before pulling it off of you. You let it drop to the floor, breathing out a sigh of relief as you cup your breasts. “My poor tits. They were being compressed.” 

Johnny grins, completely switching mindsets from the previous conversation in the blink of an eye. “Ye need me tae massage them back to life?” He asks, reaching out towards you. 

Simon slaps his hands away, pushing him back. “Not in public you won’t.” 

Johnny pouts, but you give him a grin. “Later.” You wink at him before cantering after John. 

You slip your hand into his, leaning against his side as you and your pack leave the warehouse to head to lunch. You’re hungry after such an exciting morning, the ache in your stomach easing after removing the vest. You don’t know how they wear them all the time, but then again they’re men and don’t have boobs to worry about. Well, except for maybe Simon and his massive pecs. He has to get sore after a while. 

John pulls away from you as you near the mess, giving you a soft pat on the ass. “Go on. I’ll join you shortly.” 

You grin at him before latching on to Kyle, wrapping your fingers around his hand as he leads you into the mess. It’s busy as usual during prime meal time, alive and bustling with soldiers and conversations. You stick close to Kyle, Simon and Johnny walking behind the two of you like threatening shadows, the passing soldiers giving you the usual wide berth. 

Simon yanks the tray out of your hands before you can set it on the tray slide, putting it down next to his before he begins putting food on it for you. You beam up at him, giving him a giddy smile. “Don’t.” He warns, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll make you eat mushy peas again.” 

You make a disgusted face, but you still can’t hide your happiness as Simon makes your tray for you, carrying it over to the table. You plop down next to him, sitting as close as you can. He stares down at you for a long moment before sighing, resting his arm on the table and pushing you to the side just slightly to give himself more room. 

The smile doesn’t leave your face as you eat, Simon having put all your favorites on the tray. Your scent is sweet in the air, filled with contentment and happiness. Your feet even tap under the table, making up some random rhythm. Even being surrounded by unknown alphas and betas, you feel comfortable and safe with your pack around you. 

“Someone got bit by the happy bug.” Johnny says, glancing at you as John joins you at the table. 

“I am happy.” You shrug. “We’re all together and everyone is fine and content. Makes my omega happy.” 

John smiles at you across the table. “I’m glad you feel that way, sweetheart.” 

“Aye, just a crouse wee omega.” Johnny says, patting your head. 

You turn to him blinking. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“I think it’s a compliment.” Kyle says. 

“Aye.” Johnny says, pulling you close to kiss the side of your head. “Wouldnae be mean to ye. These dunderheid’s though...” 

Simon reaches over you, smacking the back of Johnny’s head. “We know what that means, you wanker.” 

You can’t help but giggle, even as your table gets some looks for the sudden rambunctious energy. 

3 Weeks After

Another week passes, same as it always does. 

Your routine stays steady, waking up early some mornings for training or running, breakfast, then stretching for a bit while the guys go to their own training, or your weekly visits to Dr. Keller. Then lunch, then your free time until dinner, then the guys free time before bed. Your life is back to a predictable cycle, and where some might consider it boring, it’s far from it. 

Mostly because you have free time to look forward to. 

Tonight you’re spending it in the living room with Kyle, both of you scrolling on your phones. The TV is on, playing some game show that neither of you are paying attention to. You’re far too busy on your phone, scrolling through websites. You’ve started to run low on panties again, and you’d rather not subject the poor, innocent shoppers of the lingerie store to another scent overload if Simon went with you. Not after the developments between the two of you. 

You might not be able to stop him from getting a bit...handsy. 

So instead you’re looking online, finding far more options than in the store, and so many possibilities. You’re having trouble making up your mind.

“Kyle?” You pat his arm lightly, trying to decide between colors. You want his input, and you’d prefer not to get Johnny involved. You’ll wind up forgetting all about your attempts to fill your dwindling underwear drawer. “Kyle?” You pat his arm a little harder. 

“Hm?” He hums, still looking at his phone. 

“Kyle?” You shake him, but he’s locked in on whatever he’s looking at. An idea comes to mind, something that might get his attention. You sigh, turning to face him. “Daddy?” 

He hums again, turning to glance at you for a second before his head whips around, turning to stare at you wide eyed. “Huh?” 

“I need your help choosing a color.” You say, scooting closer to him, pretending like you didn’t just call him ‘daddy.’

“What did you just call me?” He’s bewildered, not even looking at your phone as you hold it out to him. 

“I need your help.” You say, pointing at your phone. 

“No, first we’re gonna cover this.” He says, pulling your phone out of your hand. “Did you just call me ‘daddy?’” He asks in disbelief, a grin pulling at the sides of his lips. 

“Yeah.” You deadpan, staring up at him. “I needed your attention.” 

“So you chose ‘daddy?’” He laughs. 

“Well, it worked didn’t it?” You shrug. 

“You fucking-” He breathes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. “What are we going to do with you?” 

You shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I dunno, thought you’d keep me around since I’m kinda funny and nice to look at.” 

He laughs, shaking his head. “I love you.” 

You grin, shifting closer to him. “You do?” 

“Mhm.” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “Hard not to.” 

You smile down at him, getting lost in those big brown eyes for a moment. They’re so soft and tender as they look at you, and you can almost feel the affection radiating off of him. “I love you too.” You say, leaning down to kiss him. 

He meets your lips eagerly, kissing you deeply. It conveys his love and the deep feelings he has for you, his arms tightening to pull you tight against his chest. 

He presses one last kiss to your lips before pulling away, smiling softly up at you. You want to kiss him again with that look on his face. You’ve never doubted that any of them love you, well, except maybe Simon but he’s a special case. He at least likes you now. 

“What was it you wanted to ask me?” He says, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Huh?” You blink at him, coming out of your stupor. “Oh!” You grab your phone from where he’d set it on the couch, pulling up the webpage again. “Which color?” 

You hold it up to his face, flicking between the two shades of blue you can’t decide on. He stares at the screen for a moment, his hands trailing down your back. 

“I think I quite prefer no panties.” He says, slipping his hands under your sweatpants. 

“Kyle, pay attention. This is important.” You say, continuing to flip between the two colors. 

He hums, his hands cupping your ass. “Get them both. John is gonna rip them both off you anyway.” He says, leaning forward to nip at your bottom lip. 

You hum, pushing your ass back into his hands as you sit back. “You’re right. Between him and Simon, my stash is getting smaller faster than it had been before. Would help if Johnny quit stealing them too.” 

Kyle pulls your phone from your hand, dropping it onto the couch again. His eyes are dark, his scent thicker in the air. A shiver runs down your spine at the musky edge to it, his hands pulling you close against his chest again. You can feel the bulge under his pants as your arms wrap around his neck again. 

“Worry about that later.” He murmurs, pressing his face into your neck. His lips brush the delicate skin, drawing a quiet sound from your lips. “Right now, I need to show you just how much I love you.” 

He presses a kiss to your pulse before he shifts on the couch, using his grip on you to lift you before moving you onto your back. He hovers over you for a moment before moving back to kneel between your legs. His fingers slip under your shirt, trailing the skin above your sweatpants. 

“Oh.” You say, knowing exactly where this is going. 

He smirks. “Hope you don’t have plans tonight.” His fingers slip under your waistband, starting to tug your pants down. “We’re gonna be here for a while.” 

You're rudely woken after falling asleep quite contently. The arms around you are moving, the chest against your back shifting. It's far too early in the morning, you can tell just by how crusty your eyes feel. The movement behind you stops, and you crack your eyes open in curiosity. 

There's a phone in front of you, screen facing towards you with the camera open. You quickly close your eyes, pretending to be asleep and the quiet click of the camera sounds a couple times. You open your eyes again as the arm under you flexes, the quiet click of the keyboard making you curious. 

Kyle has the group chat open, the one you're not a part of. You've been curious about it since Johnny mentioned it, the need to see what's in it eating you alive. You had tried John's phone but he keeps it locked like they all do. You really should start paying better attention so you can learn their passwords and lock patterns. Would have come in handy in this situation. 

He's posting the picture of you sleeping, and you wait until he's hit send before you strike. You fling the blankets back, grabbing the phone from his hands as you escape his grip. You have his surprise on your side as you just escape his hands grabbing you as you race for the door. You fling it open, running down the hall towards the rec room, victorious giggles leaving your lips. Kyle is on your heels, but your bare feet give you traction as you fake left before heading straight into the laundry room. You manage to get in the door and get it locked seconds before he slams against it. 

You grin victoriously as you push yourself up to sit on a washing machine, finally feeding your curiosity. You ignore the sounds at the door as you scroll through the photos of you, most of them of you sleeping in various positions with many heart eyes from Johnny following. There's texts about you and your training, how impressed they are with your progress, complaints about their dicks hurting and a photo of Johnny's asking if it looks normal or not. 

A photo of Johnny's drawing of you giving him head is next, then a photo of you, tits out and mouth open, your face a picture of bliss sent by Simon. When he had even taken that, you're not sure. There's texts from Kyle giving out advice on eating you out, a few texts from John about positions, as well as a few boring texts talking about your favorite foods, or at least what you pick most often, as well as a short debate about the never ending tea vs coffee argument. 

You've just gotten to the interesting texts about your earlier days with the pack when the door handle falls to the floor with a clang. The door flies open as Kyle shoulders his way through, reaching you in two strides and pulling his phone from your hands. 

“Hey!” You complain, but you don't get much of a chance to continue before Kyle is tossing you over his shoulder, leaving the laundry room. 

“This little sneak was scrolling through the group chat.” Kyle says, setting you on your feet in the concourse. John, Johnny, and Simon are waiting there and you wind up in the middle of the circle. 

“I was just curious. It's only fair considering it's about me.” You pout. 

“How'd you find out about it?” Simon asks, crossing his arms. You turn to look at Johnny, their gazes following. “Fucking hell.” Simon breathes. 

“What?” Johnny asks, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “She was gonnae find out eventually.” 

“Yeah.” You cross your arms pouting more. “Taking pictures of me in my sleep.” You murmur. 

“Can't help it, love.” Kyle says. “Not when you're just so cute.”

You grumble under your breath before looking up at Simon. “How did you get that picture of me cumming?” 

He snorts quietly. “You're not very aware when you're orgasming, love.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as they all step closer, closing in around you. You gulp, looking between Simon and Johnny who are in front of you. 

“We all appreciated that one.” John says, his voice raspier than normal. 

“Bout had a circle jerk to it.” Kyle says. 

You gulp again, the mental image of kneeling in the middle of them, cocks out as they cum all over you sending a thrilled shiver down your spine. Your scent thickens in the air, your eyes meeting Simon's as they press in even closer around you. You can almost feel John and Kyle pressed up against your back, their scents mixing into an alluring cocktail around you. 

“Maybe soon we won't need that group chat.” John says, dragging a knuckle down your spine. 

A shiver wracks through you, your nipples hardening and poking through the baggy shirt. Johnny curses, the toothbrush falling from his mouth as he stares right at your tits. 

“Would you like that, baby girl?” Kyle asks, leaning down towards you. “Think you can take all four of us?”

Your mouth waters as the many images you've conjured up of the five of you together flash through your mind. 

You let out a quiet sound as John's hand smacks against your ass, pushing you forward towards Simon and Johnny. “You haven't answered the question.”

“Yeah.” You breathe, eyes locked on Simon's hand as it lifts.

He grips your chin, lifting your face up so you're looking him in the eyes. “Want to try that again, omega?” The low rumble of his voice and your status coming from him has another shiver trailing down your spine, heading straight between your legs. 

Your scent thickens in the air, your breathing picking up as you swallow thickly. “Yes, sir.” 

A pleased growl rumbles in Simon's chest, Johnny groaning in response. “Good omega.”

You nearly fall to your knees right there, ready to take all four of their dicks at once, but you manage to keep your legs under you as Simon releases your chin. You're ready for it, that moment that the bonds open completely between the five of you and you allow yourselves that vulnerability with each other. Your pussy has been clenching in anticipation of seeing Simon and Kyle together. The image of Johnny's head between John's thighs had been plaguing you for weeks now. Even the image of John and Simon, hands on each other's cocks, has your head spinning. 

Warmth presses against your back, hot breath fanning against your ear as you tremble in anticipation. John's tongue darts out, licking the shell of your ear before he nearly purrs his promise.  

“Soon.” 

4 Weeks After

It’s a Friday evening. 

They’re always rough, the transition between the schedule of the weekdays and the unknown of the weekend always has your head spinning a bit. You feel a bit uneasy as you stand in the doorway to your room, staring into the darkness lit only by your nightlight on your desk. It casts a shadow over your bed, and for a moment you feel as if something is standing there, hidden in the shadows as it stares at you. You’re afraid to turn the light on, afraid to reveal what might be lingering in the darkness. 

You quietly close your door before hurrying down the hallway, nearly knocking your shoulder against the corner as you turn. You take a moment once you’re in front of the door before knocking quietly. You try to steady the rapid beat of your heart as you wait, your fingers trembling around the handle as you get the call to enter. 

The door clicks shut behind you, John’s eyes on you as you turn around. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, his brows furrowing slightly. 

You nod, stepping up to his desk. “Yeah, just...feeling a bit on edge.” You swallow your nerves, trying to calm yourself. “Can I...can I kneel for you?” 

“Of course.” He says, pushing his rolling chair to the side to give you room. 

It’s been a while since you knelt for him. Not since the week after your heat ended. Your knees had hurt, but you’d quickly forgotten after he eased you into that blissful state where your mind becomes unaware and your worries begin to float away. 

You need that right now. 

You kneel down on the floor beside him, sitting back on your feet. Your breath shakes as he runs a hand over your head, moving your hair out of the way. Your hands curl into the fabric of your shirt as you relax, trying to calm the stress from just a few moments ago. Soon it will be over. Soon it will be behind you as your alpha helps you calm those thoughts. You wait for it, the warmth of his hand around the back of your neck, for the gentle press of his fingers against those pressure points in your neck. 

You’ve been working with Dr. Keller on your instincts, on how to get better control over them. She hasn’t graduated you to those pressure points yet, the most sensitive in your entire body. The ones that draw the thin line between kneeling and scruffing. You’re glad she hasn’t pushed that far yet. You’re not quite sure you could handle it. 

A quiet breath leaves your lips as you relax your shoulders, eyes fluttering closed as he begins to apply the gentle pressure, your mind quieting into a hum. You begin to float away, all awareness of the office you’re enclosed in drifting into the distance. All there is, is you and your alpha and the gentle pressure of his fingers guiding your brain into peace and quiet. All the worry, all the stress, all the fear you had been feeling even as recently as a few minutes ago, begin to ease away into nothing. The worry and grief you’ve been feeling around your mother begins to quiet, drifting away for the moment. It’s relieving, your mind calming into a quiet buzz, finally easing away all the swirling emotions from the last few weeks. 

Time seems to still, sounds muffling as you kneel there, being supported by your alpha. He’s always there, always ready to give you what you need. You trust him, even in your most vulnerable moments. He’ll always be there to support you, to catch you when you fall. He’ll never leave you, never betray you. 

6 Weeks After

Things feel strange when you wake. It’s later than you usually nap, the sun not quite as bright as it usually is in your window. It’s quiet in the barracks, the usual sound of boots on the tile floor absent, the shuffling of bodies as they return from training. Even the fullness in the air, the energy of their presence is missing. The barracks feel empty. 

They’re still gone. 

You lift your phone, blinking away the sleep as you stare at the bright screen. It’s just past 11:30 in the morning, and there’s a text from John. 

‘Training late. One of us will take you to lunch.’ 

You let out a quiet groan, setting your phone back on the nightstand. You roll over, tugging a bear against your chest. You trace your fingers along the bear’s back, running your fingers absentmindedly over the soft fur. You’re groggy with sleep, not meaning to sleep so early. You’ve been taking afternoon naps lately to make up for your early mornings. It’s not that unusual for you to nap, but you’ve been tired more than normal lately. 

Ever since your heat, there’s been a nagging at the back of your brain, some kind of warning going off, yet you can’t quite figure out what it is. The feeling of being watched is back, but you searched every inch of your room and there were no more cameras. There wouldn’t have been a time where someone could have entered the barracks unseen. Someone would have seen. Someone would have noticed and alerted John, right? 

Unless they’re all in on it. 

You’re yanked out of your paranoid thoughts as your fingers brush a raised part of the seam on the bear’s back. You’ve never noticed it before, the small bump almost like there’s a hole starting. You’ll have to ask Johnny if he can patch it later. 

You pull the bear away from your chest, staring at it for a moment. You look into its eyes, into the blank, plastic black holes that stare right back at you. Something tickles down your spine, your hackles raising. Danger! Your mind screams, your fingers starting to shake the longer you stare into those eyes. 

Maybe you are starting to go crazy. 

You set the bear down on the bed, facing towards your room as you get up, stretching your arms over your head. You pull the baggy shirt you’d changed into over your head, pulling on the bra you’d ditched earlier and the clothes you’d taken off in favor of something more comfortable to nap in. 

You rub the sleep from your eyes as you head for the bathroom, letting out a quiet curse as you hit your knee against the open cupboard door. You kick it closed before standing at the sink, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You let out a sigh, dragging your fingers through your hair before walking back out to your room, sitting down on the edge of your bed. The bear falls forward but you don’t bother picking it up, grabbing your phone as you wait for whoever it is that’s going to pick you up. 

That familiar tickling in the back of your brain picks up again, your eyes darting around the room. There’s nothing. You’ve checked before. You’ve checked several times when you were alone, tearing apart your room and putting it back together. You’ve learned Simon’s organization system, memorized it to put almost everything back almost exactly as he had it. You always leave at least one thing out of place, just to make it seem less perfect. 

Perfection from you would raise suspicions. 

How strange it is that at one time you yearned for perfection, drove yourself to tears of shame trying to be the perfect omega. There’s no such thing as a perfect omega, because perfect people don’t exist. You may look perfect on paper, but in reality you’re far from it. Your pack doesn't care. They never cared. John never cared about your scores, the many essays you poured hours into at the institute. He never cared about what the CIA had to say, their own remarks on your aptitude, your ability to learn and adapt, your drive for success that was almost a fatal flaw. 

He always cared about you. They all only cared about you and what makes you a person, an individual. Not just an omega, but an actual living, breathing human being. 

The thought brings tears to your eyes. How many hours you stressed and the things you hid to try and come across as perfect when they were never interested in perfection. Would they have cared, had you been allowed in the military? Would they have cared about perfection if you weren’t just a part of the pack, but also a part of the team?

You’re not, though. You’re an omega, you’re their omega. You don’t know things because they have to keep you safe. 

If only you had been honest with them. 

It’s been almost four months since you discovered the cameras, since they left and you made the stupid decision to break the rules, to go against everything they drilled into your head. Don’t talk to any strangers. Don’t leave the barracks alone. Tell us, or Dr. Keller if anything happens.

You failed all three of those in a matter of hours. You’ve continued to fail one of them. 

They can’t ever know. It’s going to be a secret you take to your grave. 

They have their secrets, so why can’t you have yours? 

The uneasy feeling continues to grow, a shiver running down your spine as you sit there. You can’t take it anymore. You have to get out. You grab your phone, slipping on a pair of shoes before slipping out your door, pulling it closed. 

You let out a shriek as you turn, a looming figure standing right in front of you. 

“Simon!” You shout, putting a hand on your chest, your heart beating rapidly under your palm. You take deep breaths, trying to calm your panic. “Scared the shit out of me.” 

“Jumpy today.” He rumbles, staring at you as you try to stop yourself from having a heart attack. 

“Not my fault you’re like a ghost.” You stand up, driving your fist into his chest. It hits his pec, and you’re sure it hurts you more than it does him. “You can’t just go sneaking up on people like that! Fuck.” You take a deep breath, leaning against the wall for a moment. 

“I think you’ll live.” He says, stepping up closer to you. You tilt your head up, staring at his face. He’s wearing his eye black today, meaning they were doing training training. It makes something stir in your stomach, the sight of him in his gear, eye black on to hide his face further. How he looks in the field. Even now with his gear removed, you still feel warmth in your stomach. It’s exciting, the difference between Simon and Ghost. Though he has tried to keep you under the tender touch of Simon, you wouldn’t mind if Ghost began to show himself occasionally. You’d let him bend you over a crate in the warehouse, fuck you in full gear where anyone could walk in and see. The mental image of him, covered in blood, smearing it on your skin as he takes that post-fight adrenaline out on you...

You try to calm the rush of arousal straight between your legs. 

“I don’t know.” You pout. “Think I might need a kiss to make it better.” 

He stares at you for a moment before shifting so he’s hovering over you, pressing his hand against the wall above your head. He continues to stare down at you, his eyes boring into yours. “Well?” He asks, his voice low. “Are you going to get your kiss?” 

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare up at him. You hesitate, unsure if you’re supposed to cross this boundary, if he’s really opening this door. He’s always been the one to move the mask, to lift it before leaning down. Instead this time he’s allowing you to do it, to lift the mask, to reach up to him. 

He doesn’t move as you lift your hands, your fingers trembling as they close around the edge of his mask. You slowly lift it up, rolling it up over the tip of his nose. You stop there, unsure if you should continue. If he wanted you to take it off completely, he would have made that clear. You doubt he’d do it here, in the hallway. It feels like far too intimate of a moment to be done in the hallway. 

Your fingers trace his lips, sliding down to brush over the scar on his chin, his stubble tickling your fingers. You drop your hands to his shoulders, using them as leverage to lift up on your toes. You wrap your arms around his neck and he lets you pull him down slightly so you can press your lips to his. 

He kisses you deeply, pushing you back up against the wall, crowding into your space. You don’t mind it, his presence comforting, encompassing. It wraps you in a cloak of safety and security. Nothing can hurt you while you’re close to him. 

You know that, so why can’t he ease the prickling fear lingering in the back of your mind? Something is off, something not even Simon can protect you from. 

That thought makes your stomach clench, and not in a good way. 

Simon’s other hand falls to your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he kisses you like he’s trying to devour you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moan quietly, pressing your tongue against his. His muscles are tense and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to lift you up, carry you to his room and fuck your brains out. He has a mission though, he’s been sent here for a reason. 

“One of us will take you to lunch.”

He pulls away from your lips, pressing one last soft peck to them before stepping away. You’re panting softly for a different reason now, your heart thudding in your chest from the raw energy that Simon exudes. It makes your omega stir in the back of your mind, prickling down your spine. It mixes with the paranoia, the tickling of danger creating an almost toxic cocktail of sensations. It puts you on edge, your body seeking out Simon’s, and you’re not sure if you want him to hold you or fuck you. 

He tugs his mask back down, lowering his head to stare at you. “C’mon. Let’s get food in you before you get grumpy.” 

“I don’t get grumpy.” You pout, pushing yourself off the wall. 

He gives you a look of disbelief. 

“Okay, fine, I get a little grumpy.” You say, following him out of the barracks. 

You walk with him, slipping your arm around his. The uncomfortable prickling sensation doesn’t ease up any as you walk towards the mess, your fingers wrapping around the sleeve of his sweatshirt. It’s a path you’ve followed many times, so often you’re surprised there’s no footprints worn into the asphalt and gravel. 

You let go of his arm as you enter the mess. It’s prime meal time again, meaning it’s full of soldiers getting their second meal of the day. The back of your mind is tickling again, your metaphorical hackles raising. Your eyes dart around the tables as you pause, your feet gluing themselves to the floor, rendering you unable to move. That feeling is back, the feeling like someone is watching you, someone who shouldn’t be. 

They’re all staring at you. They all shouldn’t. Nothing can stop that. You’re in a public place. They’re going to stare, they’re going to assess. That’s what they’re trained to do. 

It could be any of them. 

The thought makes you sick. Any of them could have put the cameras in your room. Any of them could have violated your space, set up invisible eyes to watch and record you and everything you do, everything you say. They could have watched you with the others, watched your heat. They would have seen you in your most vulnerable moments, the amount of times you’ve changed in your room, come out of the shower in nothing but a towel. 

The blood is pulsing in your ears, the sounds simultaneously too loud and too quiet. You stand there, frozen, your chest rising and falling quickly as you begin to hyperventilate. They’re staring at you, curiously and cautiously. You know you’re projecting, your body trying to keep you safe from whatever threat is causing this reaction, even if it’s just in your mind. 

You let out a yelp as hands grab you, more of them turning to look at you. Your head snaps to the side, the hand that had curled into a fist instinctively relaxing as you recognize Simon staring down at you. He doesn’t have to say anything as he pushes you towards the door, your feet freeing themselves from the glue that held them down automatically, moving before you even realize it. 

You gulp down breaths of fresh air as you step outside, your feet stumbling in the gravel. Your hands are going numb, twisting into fists as adrenaline pumps through you. Simon keeps you steady, moving you away from the door. He takes you around the side of the mess to where there’s tables set up, the place you’ve seen most often used as a smoking area. Thankfully it’s empty right now, Simon pushing you to sit on the bench. He sits on the bench on the other side of the table, leaning on his arms as he stares at you. 

Your breathing is starting to relax now that you’re no longer confined in that space, surrounded by soldiers and alphas, ones that might hurt you. Simon doesn’t say anything for a while, eyes analyzing and observing as you work to calm yourself. Your hands slowly relax, uncurling as you take deep breaths, calming the adrenaline. Your eyes are burning, tears of embarrassment and fear stinging your waterline. 

“You want to tell me what happened in there?” Simon finally asks, leaning slightly closer to you.  

You know he doesn’t mean to, but his tone sounds almost accusing, prying and interrogating you for some logical explanation as to why you just had a panic attack in the mess. He could probably sense the nervous energy coming off of you in waves since he first stepped into the barracks, something not even a kiss from him could push away. You desperately want to sink into him, to hold him until you’ve become one, safe and secure where no one can hurt you. 

Where no one would dare watch you. 

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers twisting together nervously on the table. “I-I don’t know. It’s just...it’s all so much and it feels like everything is wrong.” The words come spilling out before you can stop them, bearing your inner thoughts to the alpha in front of you. “I-I’m going insane. Between the fear and the paranoia and the worry, I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t feel safe anymore, and ever since I found the cameras I feel like I’ve been silently spiraling out of control-” 

The words cut off as you realize what you just said. It had slipped out before you could even stop it. Maybe it was the yearning for some kind of relief, for the weight of your secret to finally be removed from your shoulders. Maybe it was the safety you felt around Simon urging you to confess, urging you to seek out that safety once more. 

Or maybe everything has become too much, and you’re at the risk of spiraling to a place you can’t come back from, and your omega is desperately pushing everything out in an attempt to save you. The paranoia of earlier in your room, the creeping feeling that you missed something, that someone is watching you, the thought that it could be anyone in the mess right now, anyone on base. It makes you sick thinking about it, and perhaps this was a last ditch effort to avoid it scaring you permanently. 

Simon’s back straightens as he stares at you, and for a moment you hope he didn’t hear it, that he might shrug it off as something he misheard. You’re gaslighting yourself, attempting to ease the panic that’s rising in you again. You know he heard it. He’s far too attentive, far too aware to miss something like that. There’s no going back now, there’s no playing it off. You can’t lie again. You’re not even trying to make up a story, an excuse as you wait for his response, for the inevitable question. 

His eyes are piercing into you, all the softness he had been looking at you with before gone. His voice is low, dangerous, not offering up a chance to lie your way out of this again, but telling you, you can’t lie. He knows. You’ve spilled it and there’s no going back now. 

“You want to repeat that?” 

Fuck.

NEXT ->

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[hey-sunshines]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 28: Two Is Company, Three Is A Party

Summary: Things don't quite go as expected during your heat, but he can hardly complain.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 12.150 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, UNSAFE SEX (please do not do this in real life, practice safe sex), anal sex, anal fingering, oral (m and f receiving), Dom/sub dynamics, threesomes, heat cycles, knotting, kissing, body fluids, cum eating, face sitting, spanking (it's like twice), Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, aftercare, and fluff

A/N: Well, this one got away from me. Not much to say other than heed the warnings and DO NOT read this in public or in underwear you care about...also maybe ditch the underwear all together this time.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Kyle’s eyes immediately dart back to meet John’s gaze. The word coming from your lips has shocked him, startled him even. You hadn’t said much during your first heat, reduced mostly to unintelligible mumbling when you were aware enough to look around with that hazy gleam in your eyes. Here, but not aware. Now your eyes are clear, staring up at him intently as you cling to his wrist. He can’t help but wonder if you’ll remember this, or if it’ll stay lost in the haze. 

John stares back at him, his gaze focused but Kyle knows him well enough to tell he’s just as surprised. He’s still drinking the electrolyte drink, his throat bobbing slowly with every swallow. Kyle knows he’s doing it so he won’t have to answer right away, assessing the situation in the moment of clarity from his rut. He’s still wrapped around you, still locked inside you. 

The moment seems to last an hour, the tension between the three of you palpable. The anticipation from Kyle, waiting to see what John will say, the intense desire from you to pull him onto the bed, and John’s uncertainty as to how to proceed. It's not uncommon for betas to join during heats, it's not even that uncommon for betas to be the ones helping during heats. The pups of a beta and omega pairing do exist after all. 

Kyle's eyes haven't left John's, even as you mouth at his wrist, tongue laving over the sensitive skin, teeth gently scraping like you're trying to devour him. He can't help the stirring in his pants from the heavy scents in the air, the sounds that had been coming from the room less than 20 minutes ago still ringing loud in his ears. 

John pulls the now empty bottle from his lips, taking the time to screw the cap back on. Kyle holds his hand out automatically, ready to take it like he could escape your tight grip to toss it into the garbage with the others. He debates throwing it into the garbage from where he's standing, but the loud nose might startle you, which might make John get defensive. 

Instead he lets it drop to the floor. He'll pick it up later. 

John continues to stare at him, holding his gaze. There's sweat beading on Kyle's back as he waits for what's coming next, what John's decision will be. He has no reason to be nervous. The fact he's in this room, so close to them speaks volumes of trust John has, the safety he feels letting Kyle around his omega in such a vulnerable position. 

“She wants you.” John finally says, leaving it open to Kyle. It's not an order, it's not a hesitant decision left open for you to make, it's not even a direct question. It's an opportunity, an opportunity for Kyle to make the final decision. You've already decided, and in presenting this opportunity, so has John. 

Kyle takes half a step back, a whine leaving your lips but you let him go. Your whine cuts through him, desperate and needy and almost sad. It hurts him, only aiding his decision. 

He kicks off his shoes, stripping out of his shirt and pants. He debates leaving his boxers on, but he already knows what's going to happen, what the endgame of this will be. It’ll be one less obstacle for all three of you. 

Your eyes are intense as you stare at him, lips parted as your eyes zero in on his half-hard cock. Kyle approaches the bed again, the sweet scent of omega in heat thickening in the air. You reach out for him again, but not for his wrist. 

John folds your arms against your chest, shifting the two of you backwards to make room. “Not yet,” he murmurs in your ear. “Let him get settled in.”

Kyle stares down at where the two of you are still connected, your pussy gaping wide around John’s knot. He swallows thickly, his cock twitching to life. He’s careful as he climbs on the bed, not wanting to cause you to shift on John's knot. He lays down face to face with you, a content smile tugging at your lips. The haze is returning, your eyes getting glassy as you tug Kyle closer.

He's not expecting it as you kiss him, wet and sloppy as your tongue traces his lips. Kyle shifts himself closer, his hand settling on your hip as he kisses you back, your mouth wet and hot as his tongue slips inside, dragging against yours. 

His hand slowly trails down your hip, fingers gliding across your still warm skin. You moan against his lips as his fingers follow the dip of your hip down closer to your mound. He can feel where John's knot begins, bulging in your pelvis right above your slit. Kyle lets a finger brush your clit and he can feel the way you spasm around John’s knot. John lets out a groan as you tighten around him. 

You pull away from his lips with a whine, pressing your face into his neck. Kyle leans up on his elbow, giving you more skin to explore as his fingers trail lower, brushing around your puffy lips to the base of John's cock, the small bit that still sticks out of you. He runs his fingers over the red, almost pulsing skin. John lets out another groan, his hips grinding against your ass. It tugs at the knot inside you, causing you to let out a breathy moan that blows hot against the wet spot you’ve made on his neck. Goosebumps form on his skin as he brushes the underside of John's cock, the alpha pushing his hips against yours again. 

Kyle pulls his hand away as pain erupts in the dip where his neck meets his shoulder. “Ow-fuck!” He hisses, jerking away as John sinks his hand into your hair with the arm that's under you, forcing your head back. 

Kyle rubs the sore spot on his neck as John chuckles, leaning his head against yours. “She's in a biting mood this time.” He rasps, a satisfied grin pulling at your lips, still shiny with a mix of yours and Kyle’s spit. “Got me at the start, naughty little thing.”

John grinds his hips against you again, your eyes nearly rolling back as you meet his movements, grinding back against him. Kyle can see it, the change beginning to happen. The haze is settling back in, the moment of clarity gone. It's been almost just over a half hour. It can take between 30 minutes to an hour for an alpha's knot to deflate. 

“She's so sensitive.” John continues, his lips brushing your cheek. “Can make her cum so easily.” 

John's other hand wraps around you, pushing against the bulge in your pelvis. You let out a high pitched whine, your body shaking as you cum around his knot just like that. John curses, eyes squeezing closed as he presses his face against the side of your head. His cock is twitching, his knot tugging on your pussy but you don't seem to care. 

“Fuck...” John groans, the sound long and dragged out as his hand leaves your pelvis, sinking into the sheets in front of you. 

Kyle sits all the way up, watching curiously as John's cock continues to spasm. Quiet growls leave his lips as his cock begins to soften. His knot is getting smaller and smaller, deflating and releasing its hold on you. John lifts your top leg up over his hips before pulling his cock free. A gush of slick and cum is forced out of you as your walls spasm, slowly relaxing after being forced open for so long. 

Kyle can't help himself as he reaches out, gathering some of the viscous cocktail that's gathered on your thigh. It's almost slimy as it coats his fingers, your slick wetter than your normal arousal. Not quite as sticky. John's cum has thickened it, tainting it a milky white color. 

“Beautiful, isn't it?” John smirks, watching Kyle rub the mix of their fluids between his fingers. “Give her a minute, she'll be gushing slick again and you can get a taste.”

He's right, you've begun to tremble, the skin of your thigh starting to warm even more where his leg is pressed against yours. Your pussy is fluttering still, pushing the rest of John's cum out.

Kyle can't help himself again as he gathers more of your release on his fingers, pushing it back inside you. You're tight around his fingers despite the fact you had just taken your alpha’s knot. You squeeze around him, slick gushing around his fingers. It coats his hand, warm and wet. He pulls his fingers from you, watching your pussy spasm as more slick seeps out of you, coating your folds and dripping onto the skin of your thigh. Your scent has thickened in the air, making his mouth water. It's going to his head, making his cock throb. 

He can understand now why alphas will fight over an omega in heat. 

John moves, shifting both of you on the bed until his back rests against your headboard, your body between his legs. He grips you behind your knees, pulling your legs up until you're damn near folded in half. You don't seem to care, panting as sweat begins to bead on your skin. You've gone almost limp, pliable and willing so long as the ache in your core gets relieved. 

John's eyes are dark as he stares at Kyle, his fingers digging into your skin. “Well?” He smirks. “Are you going to give her what she wants?” 

Kyle's eyes drift between your legs, your pussy spread open before him like a buffet. It’s not a new sight. He’s been between your thighs many times, tasted you on his tongue. Yet it feels different now, because it is different. The situation has changed. He’s not fucking you because you’ve come to him, sought him out to relieve the ache between your legs, the neediness that’s built up the whole day. You’re still needy, still begging, but it’s because you have to. Your body needs to be filled, needs to have an alpha’s knot to ease the ache. Your body wants pups, and so it’s forcing you to the peak of attraction to an alpha. Pheromones thick in the air to drive alphas into their most base state, slick coating your thighs to ease the taking of a knot. 

His eyes are glued to you as slick continues to seep out of you, sliding down your ass until it drips onto the sheet below. He’s no alpha, but your pheromones are getting to him, fogging his own mind in need. He’s felt it when he enters to clean, to ensure you’ve eaten and hydrated, that nothing has gone wrong, but the feeling leaves as soon as he’s in the clear air in the hallway. He had thought it was simply the knowledge of what was happening, the sounds from the room and then seeing you and his alpha knotted together. It’s a natural reaction to a beautiful omega naked in front of him. 

He understands it now as his mouth goes dry, staring at your shiny pussy. It’s his turn to experience it, his chance to understand firsthand what both you and John go through. He feels the urge to bend down, to taste you, to drink from the source like your slick is the only thing that will ease his thirst. 

He bends down, laying flat on the bed so he’s face to face with your weeping slit. The room is silent, even your own panting breaths quiet, waiting in anticipation. He leans forward, pressing his face against your slit. He inhales deeply, his eyes almost fluttering as your pheromones go straight to his brain. They swirl around his synapses before shooting down his spine, seeping into his veins and warming his body. His cock is hard and leaking onto the mattress beneath him, throbbing for some relief. He won't give it any yet, wanting to wait until he at least gets a taste of you. 

He drags his tongue through your folds, moaning at the sweet taste of you. There's still a hint of your natural taste under there, but the sweetness of your slick has him burying his face in your folds. He laps at the source, pressing his tongue into your pussy, drinking up your slick like a man starved. His nose presses against your clit, and he inhales the sweet scent of your slit with every breath. Your skin is hot, feverish as his hands slip under you, holding your hips up as he feasts on you desperately. He feels like he's in heat himself, or perhaps as close to a rut as a beta can get. His face is soaked, your slick dripping down his chin, adding to the mess both dry and still wet on the sheets.

You're panting and whining, pushing your hips up against his face desperately. He doesn't care. He'd drown here happily. His nose continues to brush your clit, making you whine all desperate and needy. His cock is throbbing, but he resists the urge to grind against the bed. Not yet. 

“Please, please!” You whine, pussy fluttering around his tongue. You are sensitive, nearly to the brink and he's barely touched you. 

He presses harder against your clit, a loud moan falling from your lips as you cum around his tongue, sweet slick gushing into his face along with the familiar, tangy taste of your cum. He licks every last drop from your pussy, or at least as much as he can with how your slick is still seeping out of you endlessly. 

He lifts himself up from your pussy, meeting John's gaze. John beckons him closer, gripping Kyle's chin as soon as he's within arm’s distance and pulling him against his lips. There’s a low rumble in his chest, the sound shooting straight down Kyle’s spine. It makes him shudder, his cock twitching. 

John licks into his mouth, tasting you on his tongue before licking your slick from his face. Kyle can't help but moan, his cock smearing precum against your thigh. 

“You want her?” John breathes against his lips. “You want to feel her?”

Kyle breathes out a quiet moan, nodding. “Yes, sir.” 

He backs up as John releases your legs, letting you flop onto the bed. He maneuvers out from behind you until you're laying flat on the bed, limp yet willing. You let out a whine, rubbing your thighs together for any sort of friction. He can’t imagine you’re getting any, not with how slick your thighs and pussy are. 

John moves off the bed, cock hanging hard and heavy between his thighs. “Present for your beta.” John says, the alpha command strong in his voice as he slaps your ass lightly. “Show him how good of an omega you are.”

You let out a whine, flopping over and shuffling your legs under you. Kyle doesn’t think you’ll be able to do it, given your weak state, but you surprise him. Your upper body is still pressed into the mattress, but your hips lift, slick still drooling out of your pussy. Kyle is nearly drooling himself staring at your puffy lips and soaked skin. 

He jumps as John's hand slaps his own ass cheek. “Well, give her what she wants.” His voice is rough, his alpha still slipping out around the edges. 

Kyle moves forward almost automatically, obeying the command of his alpha. He shifts so he's kneeling behind you, fisting his cock. It's still hard and throbbing, precum dripping from the tip. He drags the head through your folds, slipping through easily thanks to the slick. He’d understood the importance of slick before from his research for your first heat, but now he’s getting a firsthand demonstration. 

His hand closes around your hip, holding you steady as he presses into you with a groan. You’re so hot and wet and tight around him, your pussy fluttering around him like it’s trying to pull him in. Soft, breathy moans slip from your lips, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as he sinks into you completely with one press of his hips. He pauses in surprise as his hips press flush against your ass without even having to work you open. He supposes you’ve been taking John’s not repeatedly, but yet you’re still just as tight around him as he remembers, if not tighter. He shifts forward slightly so his hips are flush with your ass, his eyes following a bead of sweat as it slides down the line of your spine. It’s hot in the room, and you’re hot under his hands, skin burning with the flames of your desperation. He understands can’t give you what you need, not completely, but he can give you a little relief. 

He can feel John’s eyes on him as he begins to move, pulling back before sinking back into you. Your pussy seems to have a mind of its own as it flutters around him, letting him pull back before pulsing around him, pulling him back in. He’s fucked you plenty of times, but it’s never felt like this. So slick and warm and responsive. Your body moves in accordance with his movements, pushing and pulling with every thrust of his cock in and out of you. It makes his head spin, his movements starting to pick up speed. There’s no resistance, his cock gliding in and out of your pussy easily. 

“Fuck...” He groans, clinging desperately to his sanity as he tries not to cum immediately. You’re whimpering and whining under him, legs already shaking but he can’t tell if it's from the effort of holding yourself up or from your pleasure. 

Low growls rumble in John’s throat, the wet sound of him pumping his cock mixing with the wet squelch of your pussy. It’s an obscene chorus, the harmony of moans and growls and the wet sounds of sex. Slick continues to drip out around his cock, smearing on his skin. You’re pushing back weakly against him, moaning and drooling on the sheets. You’re doing what omegas are supposed to do during heats, lay there and take your alpha’s knot over and over in hopes of being bred. You won’t be, you have protections against that, but your brain can’t comprehend that right now. It can’t comprehend much of anything in this state.  

You squeeze tightly around him, trembling as you’re thrown into an orgasm. Your walls clench, gripping him like a vice, so tightly he almost can’t move. Slick gushes out around his cock, soaking his pelvis, dripping down his thighs. The sensation is almost heavenly as you spasm around him, almost trying to pull him deeper, coax a knot out of him that he can’t give you. 

He starts to grind against you, his vision almost going dark as his own orgasm is forced out of him suddenly, his hands tightening around your hips. You whine as he holds you, hips probably sore from John, but he can’t find it in him to care as he bends over your back, holding your ass flush with his hips. He’s gasping for air, trembling himself from the shared sensation of your orgasm and his own. 

It’s almost too much. 

Almost. 

“You’re not done.” John says, trailing a hand down Kyle’s spine, smearing the sweat that’s broken out across his body. “Give her another.” 

Kyle can’t disagree, can’t even ask for a moment to gather his head as he begins moving again, your body sucking him in so tightly he can hardly do more than grind his hips against your ass. You don’t seem to care, needy whines and moans slipping out of your lips. 

John’s hand dips between Kyle’s thighs, collecting some of your slick before he presses his finger against Kyle’s hole. Kyle lets out a sound that’s almost a whine of his own at the sensation.

“Open up for me.” His alpha growls, nipping at the skin of his ass cheek. “Be a good boy.” 

Kyle nearly cums again, fighting to relax as he continues to fuck you. He bends over you further as John presses a slick covered finger into his ass, a deep groan leaving his throat. You’re still laying there, eyes pinched closed in pleasure as you create a puddle of drool around your mouth. Whisps of hair stick to your face, falling out of the braid Johnny had done for you. He should redo it, keep it in place for the few days still left of your heat. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when John grips his throat, pulling him back upright. John’s finger is still in his ass, moving with the thrusts of his hips. “Gonna make her cum again?” John growls, licking Kyle’s lips. Their kiss is rough and sloppy, spit passing between them as they lick at each other’s mouths. 

Kyle groans as John pulls the finger from his ass, gathering more slick before pressing two back in. “Shit,” He curses, his hips stuttering against your ass. 

You cum around him again, legs nearly giving out. He clings to your hips, keeping you up. He understands why you carry such nasty looking bruises around your hips after your heat now. It’s not just John’s iron grip, it’s to keep you steady. 

“That’s it.” John growls, fucking his fingers into Kyle’s ass, opening him up. 

Kyle’s cock twitches in anticipation, his hips driving into your ass to hasten his own orgasm in excitement for what’s coming next. 

Kyle’s body does give out as his orgasm slams into him, his hands just barely managing to catch him before he falls into you. Your own body trembles, squeezing around him, milking every last drop. Your legs give out, your body slumping onto the bed. Kyle follows you, keeping his cock inside you. You’re tensed around him, still seeking what he can’t give you. It has to be torture, your body desperate for a knot, for some relief to the pain you must be in, yet Kyle can’t stop. He can’t have mercy on you, not yet. 

It’s addicting, the feeling of fucking you during your heat. He gets the insanity alphas seem to be overwhelmed by during an omega’s heat. It’s not just the pheromones driving the mating instinct, not the sweet scent that drives them crazy. The feeling of your body, the way your pussy sucks him in all wet and hot...for a moment he does wish he could knot you, just to feel what it’s like. 

John pushes a hand into his back, pressing him fully on top of you. Kyle moves onto his elbows, just preventing you from taking his full weight. You’re hot under him, skin feverish and slicked with sweat. His cheek rests against your damp hair, one of his hands slipping up the bed. He brushes your drool slick skin with his thumb, your shallow gasps pressing your back up against his chest. 

“Please....please...” You whine, pushing your ass back against him. 

“Easy.” John says, kneeling over both of you on the bed. His hand slips down between your legs, gathering the slick still seeping out around Kyle’s cock. 

The wet sound of John smearing your slick on his cock is loud in the silence, Kyle’s cheeks clamping in anticipation. You’re clenching around him, almost begging him to move again, but it won’t be him in control anymore. 

Not that he really was in control in the first place. 

John presses his tip against Kyle’s hole, the beta pressing his face into your hair as he groans. His own hand grips the sheets as John presses further in, shifting closer to Kyle’s ass as he works himself into the tight passage. 

“Fuck...” Kyle whines, grinding his hips against your ass. You whine softly at the sensation, pressing against him as much as you can with their combined weight pinning you down. 

“That’s it.” John groans, pressing in further. “Fuck...you can take it.” 

John begins moving his hips shallowly, thrusting further and further into Kyle’s ass. Kyle feels a bit like you, unable to do much but lay there and take it as John begins to fuck his ass. John’s thrusts push him into you, his cock grinding into your pussy. Their combined rocking has your clit rubbing against the bed, your eyes rolling in pleasure. 

You cum twice around Kyle’s cock as John fucks him, his hips slapping against Kyle’s ass. John's hands grip Kyle’s hips tight enough Kyle might sport bruises of his own after this. Deep growls rumble in John’s chest, echoing almost in time with his thrusts. Kyle feels like whimpering from the combined pleasure of your pussy clenching around him and John’s cock driving into his ass. He can’t think anymore feeling just as out of it as you look. 

For a moment Kyle is worried you might have passed out under him, and he lifts himself higher up on his elbows, ready to tap out in concern. You shift under him as he presses up, trying to push yourself up too, arching against Kyle’s chest. He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as you move, unable to do much still except whine and plead. 

“Please, please, please,” You repeat it like a mantra, head bending back as your body spasms, the sweetest moans falling from your lips. “Alpha!” 

You cry out for him as slick and fluid gushes out of you, your hips lifting off the bed as you push your ass against Kyle. John lets out an animalistic growl as he picks up the pace, fucking Kyle so hard he nearly sees stars. 

“I’ve got you,” John grunts, bending over Kyle’s back. “I’ve got you.” 

Kyle can feel it, worry flooding through him for a moment as the base of John’s cock swells, pushing against the ring of his ass. He’s never taken a knot before, never had a chance to. He’s not sure he wants to as the feels the size of it. He might tear in half. 

Instead John pulls out of him, grunting as he jerks his cock until he’s spurting his hot cum across Kyle’s ass. You’ve gone limp beneath him again, your only movement the slow push of your hips backwards against him. Kyle gently turns your head so your face isn’t pressed into the mattress. The last thing they need is you accidentally suffocating yourself. He can’t help but wonder if John has enough awareness to do the same, or if suffocation is a fear he should worry about during your heats. He hadn’t even thought of that during your first heat. 

John slaps his ass, getting his attention again. “Off.” He says, pushing Kyle to the side. 

Kyle gets the memo, his cock sore as he pulls out of you, flopping over to the side. John drags a hand up your back, the motion very soft and intimate compared to the rough fucking you both had just taken. John wraps his arms around you, lifting you up against his chest. You let him move you, limp again in his arms, your head pressing back against his shoulder. Slick still dribbles out of you, mixed with Kyle’s cum. 

“Over here. On your back.” John directs Kyle and he moves despite his own exhaustion, laying where you had just been. The bed is wet, the sheets soaked through. Kyle silently thanks whoever created plastic heat protectors for mattresses as he settles on his back. 

John lets you flop to the side, Kyle grateful you just miss smacking your head against the wall. You’re staring at him, eyes lidded as you continue to pant. Your hand slips down between your legs, fingers pressing into your pussy despite the fucking you had just taken, the fucking you’ve done since your heat started. John tugs him further down the bed, his knees bent and feet against the footboard. His cock twitches as he waits patiently for what’s going to come next. 

John tugs you up, a whine leaving your lips as your fingers are forced out of you. He maneuvers your body into place, kneeling over Kyle’s face. Excitement thrums in his veins as slick dribbles out of you, dripping onto his chin. He licks his lips, dipping his tongue down his chin to try and get a taste of it again. 

Kyle feels like he may be in heat as John pushes you forward just slightly, his arms wrapped around your middle as his cock presses into you. His knot has deflated for now, his length slipping easily into your slick pussy. Your hands grip the headboard as John begins to fuck you, holding you up over Kyle’s face. Kyle sticks his tongue out, catching your slick and the remnants of his own cum as John’s thrusts force it out of you. Despite the soreness of his cock it’s twitching back to life, the taste and scent of you on his face nearly driving him over the edge. 

You let out the most delicious sounding whines as your alpha finally fucks you, promising you what Kyle can’t: temporary relief from the fire in your veins and the ache between your thighs. A knot. Your legs shake around his head, Kyle’s hands coming up to grip the backs of your knees. He wouldn’t care if you dropped on him. He’d take a broken nose if it meant he’d get to taste your slick from the source again. He could always text Dr. Keller to come and patch him up, though he’d have to tell her how it happened. 

He doubts she’d care. 

John keeps his hold on you tight though, keeping you up as he fucks into you roughly, the bed shaking from the force of his thrusts. You tremble above Kyle as you cum again, more slick gushing out around John’s cock. It’s obscene from his angle, John’s cock driving into your sopping pussy, slick oozing out around his cock, wetting your thighs and John’s thighs and Kyle’s face. He licks as much as he can from his face, basking in the sweet taste of you raining down over him like manna from heaven. 

John groans, his cock twitching as he cums inside you, his hips pressing tight against your ass. Your legs nearly give out again, Kyle’s grip tightening around your thighs instinctively. John pulls out of you, quickly lowering you over Kyle’s mouth. He doesn’t have to say anything as Kyle’s hands slide up to grip your hips, holding you in place as he begins to lick up the slick and cum seeping out of you. 

It’s a musky, sweet concoction, savory and sweet on his tongue. John is still holding you up, keeping you steady as you twitch over Kyle, sensitive and dripping all over his face. Your knees squeeze Kyle’s head as you cum again, Kyle having to turn his head to breathe for a moment as you nearly waterboard him with your slick. 

Kyle licks every last drop of your cum and John’s. He could lay here, licking your slick all day, but he knows that would be near torture for you. No matter how many times he can make you cum, he can’t give you what you need. 

He pushes you up slightly, back into John’s hold. “Do it.” He gasps, taking in deep breaths after nearly being drowned in your slick. “Give her what she needs.” 

John pulls you back, backing up slightly as Kyle moves up the bed more. Your slick is still coating his face, dripping down his chin to his neck and chest. John bends you over Kyle’s chest, letting you rest there as you present for your alpha, somehow still able to hold yourself up. Omega instincts he supposes, giving you the strength to present all pretty and dripping for your alpha. Kyle’s fingers brush your burning skin, your entire body soaked in sweat. You’re still rocking your hips, trying to push back against John. How you’re even awake, let alone still moving is a miracle to him. Another wonder of omega biology. 

You let out a content sigh as John presses back into you, his hips immediately snapping against your ass as he sets a near brutal pace. He’s been fighting it as well, fighting that urge to knot you as soon as he can. Kyle feels honored, having this opportunity, sharing this moment with the two of you. His research has paled in comparison to seeing it in person. He understands it better now, understands the two of you and how you fit together perfectly in this moment. Your body responds naturally to your alpha’s, pulsing around John’s cock as you seek out his knot. John brings you endless amounts of pleasure, both of you ruled by your instincts which provide you both with an intense stamina. 

Kyle doesn't have that stamina, but he doesn’t mind. He can’t even imagine doing this for a day, much less a week. Yet, despite his exhaustion, his cock still continues to twitch, half hard as he holds John’s gaze. His alpha’s eyes are dark, focused and intense. Growls leave his lips, rumbling through his chest. You answer with your own whines, only driving the animalistic instincts within you both. You’re lost in your heat now, just as John is lost in his rut, only bordering on awareness because of Kyle’s presence. 

Had Kyle not been in here, he knows John would have had you in this position for the next hour, fucking you relentlessly until he could finally knot you and bring both of yourselves a little relief. Kyle would have stayed out in the hallway for a while, letting you both rest and John care for you until he decided it was time to check on you both and clean things up a little. 

You’re both close. He can tell by the way you shake over him, hands pushing into his chest as you try to lift yourself up, fingers scratching at his skin, but they can’t get enough of a grip to hurt. John is close too, deep growls rumbling in his chest as he pulls back into his thrusts. His knot must be swelling, pushing against your entrance. 

“Please...Please alpha!!” You cry, trying to push back against him. “Need it!” 

“Need that?” John growls, grinding against you. “Need my knot?” 

“Please!” You whine pathetically, writhing over Kyle. 

He wants to watch, he wants to see John’s knot push into you, spread you open, push in until you’re locked in place. “Let me see.” He breathes, still holding John’s gaze. “Let me see it.” 

John understands even in his hazy state, bending down to lift you back up against his chest. Kyle can see it, his swollen knot pushing against your pussy with every thrust of his hips. You’re crying, begging incoherently for it, trying to push down on it. 

“Shhhh,” John shushes you, his lips brushing your cheek. “Alpha’s got you.” 

The words nearly have Kyle cumming again, his balls tightening as John reassures you, promises you he’ll give you what you need. Your neck bends back, your head pushing against John’s shoulder as he begins to lower you while pushing his hips up, fighting the natural resistance as his knot spreads you open. The slight tapering of it makes it easier, easing your pussy open in preparation for the widest part. You’re shaking, body almost spasming as he presses his knot into you, your pussy spread almost impossibly wide as he slips all the way in, groaning as he locks in place inside you. Kyle can see your pussy spasm, your eyes rolling back as you cum again around him, the last bit of slick dribbling out of you before the rest is trapped inside you by your alpha’s knot. 

John doesn’t let you drop this time, instead lowering you down gently against Kyle’s chest, moving with you. The dark intensity of his eyes has lessened, softening back into the blue he recognizes. John gently moves you off Kyle’s chest, shifting to the side so you’re lying next to the beta. Kyle turns onto his side facing the two of you, his body covered in slick and sweat and your drool. The heaviness of your combined scents has faded a bit in the air, not quite as intense as it had been even just moments ago. 

He’s breathing heavily, almost as heavily as the two of you. You’ve fallen unconscious, or at least you look like you have as you lay there limply, eyes closed, sweaty with drool still wet on your chin. “Thank you.” He says, his gaze meeting John’s again. “Thank you for letting me do this.” 

The corners of John’s lips pull up in a smile. “I’m glad you got to experience it. I doubt she’d complain if you wanted to stay.” He says, trailing his fingers down your arm. You twitch just slightly, and Kyle can imagine how overstimulated you must be from everything. 

Kyle breathes out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I could handle much more.” 

John does smile now, his eyes flickering downwards. “One more?” 

Kyle swallows as John reaches for his throbbing cock, nodding in agreement. He shifts slightly closer as John’s warm hand wraps around his length, his thumb teasing Kyle’s leaking slit. Kyle sighs softly, his cock sensitive from the intense fucking it had just experienced. He’s gone for longer, but it hadn’t been like this. You squeezing around him, tightening like a vice as you came, sucking him in as your body searched for a knot. 

John begins to move his hand, pumping Kyle’s cock. He won’t last much longer, nearly burning with overstimulation and sensitivity. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He curses softly, eyes squeezing closed as his balls tighten, the wet thwack of his cock filling the air. It’s damp still from your slick and the mixture of his cum and John’s. 

He cums with a moan, spilling on his chest and the bed. He’s surprised there’s anything left, a whimper leaving his lips as John continues to move his hand, working him through his orgasm. John squeezes the base of his cock before releasing him, lifting his hand to Kyle’s face. Kyle licks the bit of his cum that leaked onto John’s thumb before leaning into his touch. 

“Good boy.” John praises, his eyes hooded with exhaustion. 

The base of Kyle’s spine tingles from his alpha’s praise, but he can’t even bring himself to think about getting hard again, much less actually doing it. 

You let out a soft sound, your eyes cracked open as you stare up at Kyle. He meets your gaze, surprised to see you still conscious. Your hand lifts weakly, thumb pressing against Kyle’s lips before it falls back to the bed. “Pretty.” 

Both Kyle and John chuckle as you drift back out of it, John keeping one arm tucked under you, the other reaching over to pull Kyle closer. He should get up, grab you all electrolyte drinks and nutrition bars but he can’t quite get his body to move. Instead he lays there, staring at you both as you drift in and out of sleep during your quick moment of relief and clarity. John is purring quietly, the sound so different to the deep, animalistic growls that had just been rumbling in his chest. 

You’ll be back at it soon, needy and desperate to fuck like you haven’t been for almost two straight days. There’s still at least three more days to go, four if you’re unlucky. Then he’ll have to worry about things after your heat ends. It had been rough the first time, and he can imagine it will be again, especially with the week you had before your pre-heat started. He’ll call Dr. Keller again after it’s over, let her come and help you, make sure everything is alright. He doubts anything will go wrong, that John would let anything happen to you. 

“Alpha’s got you.” 

The words still ring in his head. The sincerity, the promise in them. He really does have control, he does make sure you’re safe and well cared for, he does catch you when you fall. Not just during your heat, but outside of it. The difference between John and Simon is only getting clearer as you begin to bond with the pack’s second alpha. 

John is the caretaker, the comforter whose strength comes from his heart and his emotional control. The one who can stay calm and lead even in the most dire situations. He’s seen it in the pack, and he’s seen it out in the field. His dominance is soft and he’s only harsh when the need arises. 

Simon is the protector. He’s rough around the edges, a man of action not comforting words. A clear minded leader, but one well versed in raw power and violence. He’s abrasive and standoffish, yet fiercely protective of those he deems his. 

They can see it the most now with you. John is the one you turn to when you need comforting words and to be held. Simon is the one who looms like a protective shadow, a silent threat behind you. 

Yet he can see the softening around Simon’s harsh edges, those walls he’s built up since you arrived crumbling down around the two of you. It’s not just in his physical acceptance of you, but the mental acceptance of you being a part of the pack, you being a part of him. 

He hopes Simon does do it. He hopes Simon will claim you someday, let you bring together both halves of the pack completely. He knows Simon wants to. Johnny has talked about the yearning, the stares, the lingering. You’d let him. You probably want him to yourself. Yet he knows Simon will hold off, torture himself with it until he has no choice but to give in. 

It’s a pattern, a fatal flaw of his. 

It will happen eventually though. They all know it. 

It’s quiet. Has been for nearly an hour. It’s been a while since he’s checked on you both, forcing a nutrient bar into John’s hands as Kyle sat by the bed feeding you one. Neither of you had been interested in eating, but had begrudgingly chewed the indistinguishable dried mush of nutrient-rich foods shaped into a bar. Kyle had tried a bite of one just to see what it was like. 

It wasn’t good. 

He had taken it as a sign the end was near. The thumping of the bed against the wall had slowed, losing the ferocity with which it had steadily thump-thump-thumped against the wall for the last five days. Even the moans and groans and growls have quieted, and the breaks between rounds have gotten longer and longer. 

He gets off his cot, padding silently to the door. He opens it, slipping in before closing it quietly. You and John are cuddled together on the bed. You’re shivering, the blanket he’d folded and draped over the footboard five days ago is draped over you both. 

Kyle steps up to the bed, John’s eyes opening. He looks tired, eyes slightly red and bags hanging heavy under them. You both have to be exhausted, physically and mentally. He presses his hand to your forehead, a soft whine leaving your lips. John gently shushes you, tightening his hold around you. Your temperature is considerably lower than it has been, even a few hours ago. Kyle lifts the blanket for a moment, checking the two of you. John’s knot has deflated and the only thing still leaking out of you is a mixture of leftover slick and John’s cum. 

“I’ll go start the bath.” Kyle says, letting the blanket drape over you again. 

He heads into your bathroom, starting the water in the tub. He waits until it gets warm before putting the stopper in, letting it fill. He opens the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the epsom salt Dr. Keller recommended to help with the soreness. He’s used it himself, the few times he’s had a bath in the last few years, mostly after missions when he’s been particularly sore, bruised and aching after taking a beating physically and mentally. He’d used lavender scented salts to try and calm his mind, but he’d chosen to go with unscented for your heat, knowing the added scent may confuse you. You’ll need your alpha’s scent close to ground you in the disoriented state you’ll be in for the next couple hours. 

He pours some salt into the bath, stirring it with his hand until it’s dissolved. He seals the bag, slipping it back in the cupboard before pushing himself to stand. He heads back into your room, pulling the blanket back again before helping John off the bed. They try not to disturb you too much, John flinching at the whine you let out as his warmth disappears. Kyle knows he doesn't want to leave you, but you both need the bath to help with the sore muscles and keep them from locking up after so long. You also need it to help with the sudden drop in your temperature. 

Kyle eases John into the warm water, helping him sit in the tub. He wishes it was a bigger tub as his alpha’s long legs bend at the knees, unable to stretch out completely. They’ll want a longer, deeper tub in the seaside cottage you’ve dreamed of. Maybe one with jacuzzi jets. Kyle turns off the water, John leaning back against the tile wall, his eyes half closed. 

Kyle pushes himself up to stand after a moment, heading back to the bed to get you. You’re shivering, letting out quiet whines as you search out your alpha in your confusion and disorientation. 

“I know, I know.” He tries to soothe you, projecting his beta scent into the air. It won’t be enough, but it at least offers up some comfort in your state. You still need your alpha even though your heat is over. 

He scoops you up, wincing as you whine in pain, but he knows it’s necessary. You need the warm water to help keep you stable, and a moment with your alpha to help get you grounded. 

He eases you into the tub, John’s legs parting to make room for you as Kyle settles you against his chest. Your alpha wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly as you whimper softly. Kyle makes sure the two of you are settled before getting back up, ensuring the towels are ready before heading back into your room. 

He pulls the sheet off your bed, crusty and still slightly damp from the week of near nonstop fucking. He knows some of those crusty spots are his own cum, yet he still can’t quite believe it really happened. He’s spent the last few days thinking about it, pinching himself to remind himself it wasn’t a dream. He really did get to experience some of your heat. 

He can’t get the image of John’s knot pressing into you, your puffy, slick pussy spreading wide around it. The way your body shuddered, the relieved moan as you finally got what you wanted, what you needed. It was a beautiful sight, and he wishes he had Johnny’s talent so he could paint it and keep it forever. 

He bundles your clothes in the sheet along with the blanket to take them to the wash, cleaning up the wrappers and bottles and adding them to the trash bag he’d started. He pulls the plastic heat protector from the bed, balling it into another trash bag. He packs the bundle of laundry to the laundry room, starting the washer before taking the two bags of trash out and stuffing them in the bin to get picked up later this week. He wouldn’t be surprised if one of them goes missing, some young, desperate alpha pulling it out to jerk off to your scent. 

It makes his nose scrunch up in disgust. 

He heads back to your room, pulling the clean sheets out of the top of your closet, remaking the bed. He puts your comforter back on the bed, folding your blankets and putting them at the end of the bed. He stacks your pillows and stuffed animals back in place as much as he can remember, though he knows you’ll remake your nest later once you’re more aware. Right now it’s important you be surrounded by the comfort of familiar scents. 

He makes sure everything is as back in place as it can be, pulling a shirt out of your closet for you to change into once you’re out of the bath. He’s not quite sure whose it is, the only smell coming off it is the scent of laundry detergent. It’s soft after being washed quite a few times, likely one of the first you got from them, or at least one you’d stolen early on. You’d cut the tags out, something you’ve done with almost all of your clothes. He can’t blame you. If he could, he would do the same. 

He heads back into the bathroom once everything looks as back to normal as it can, kneeling next to the tub. 

“How do you feel?” John asks. 

Kyle nearly laughs at the question. He should be the one asking him that, but of course John would be worried about the rest of his pack before himself. “Not bad.” He answers. “Tired, but nothing compared to how you have to be feeling right now.” 

John huffs out a laugh, gently stroking your hair as you whimper softly. He’s taken it out of the braid, managing to untangle it a little. “This is the hardest part, I think.” 

Kyle nods. “I can imagine.” He grabs a washcloth, squirting some of your strawberry scented soap onto it before he begins gently scrubbing your skin, attempting to get some of the dried fluids off. 

“Fucking nonstop for days in a lust induced haze is easy.” John says, shifting you slightly so Kyle can reach more of your skin. “It’s coming down from it, when you start to feel the effects of fucking for days nearly nonstop that it really starts to settle in. The aches, the pains, the exhaustion from almost no sleep, the hunger, the thirst.” He shakes his head. “Maybe I’m just old.” 

Kyle makes a face. “You are getting up there.” 

John gives him a playful glare, shaking his head. His face softens as he looks at Kyle, dutifully cleaning up after their five day instinct-induced haze. “Thank you, for earlier. Giving her what she wanted.” 

Kyle nods. “Of course. Couldn’t turn down a chance to experience it, and I wouldn’t want to leave you with an upset omega during her heat.” 

John snorts quietly. “I doubt she’d have been upset for long. Probably doesn’t remember most of it.”

Kyle hums, John helping him get you sitting up so he can rinse your back and attempt to get some of the dirt and fluids out of your hair. A part of him knows that’s true, but a part of him hopes you will remember at least some of it. He’ll never forget it, his mouth watering slightly as the memories of your slick on his tongue, dripping onto his face. John fucking you over him, letting you drip all over him. It may be a bit selfish of him, but he wants to experience that over and over, every time you sit on his face, every time he fucks you, every time John fucks you in front of him. 

Kyle helps hold you up, wincing at your whines both in pain and from the loss of your alpha’s touch as he scrubs the dried slick off of his skin. The water is murky from the mix of soap, slick, and cum coming off of you both. The water is starting to get cold as he rinses John’s hair, making sure to get the soap off of you both. 

“Ready?” He asks, reaching down to pull the plug. 

“No.” John says, lips tugging up in a half smile, likely all he can manage in his exhausted state. “But the bed is more comfortable than the tub.” 

Kyle grins at him, slipping his hands under your arms, and with the help of John, he gets you standing. John twitches at your whine of protest, Kyle holding you up as he tries to towel you off as much as he can. The dryer he can get you, the less cold you’ll be once you’re back in bed. You’re still shivering despite the bath, your face pressing against Kyle’s chest in search of any warmth you can get. 

Kyle scoops you up, carrying you to the bed. You let out a whine as he eases you down onto the edge of the bed, but he shushes you gently, quickly drying your hair as much as he can. He pulls the shirt over your head, pulling your arms though the holes before shifting you to the head of the bed. He pulls the comforter over you, letting you sink into the softness of your stuffed animals before he heads  back to the bathroom. 

John has gotten himself standing, leaning against the wall as he dries himself with the other towel. Kyle drapes one of his arms over his shoulder, helping guide him back to the bed, lowering him onto the edge. He finishes drying John off before he grabs a pair of boxers from your dresser. He’s not sure whose they are either, but they fit decently enough for now. 

He helps John under the covers with you, his arms wrapping around you. You immediately gravitate towards him, pressing against his chest. John holds you tightly, shushing your quiet whimpers. 

“Here.” He passes John an electrolyte drink. “Keep hydrating yourself. I’ll go scrounge up some real food.” 

“You’re a good man, Kyle.” John says. “A good beta.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Kyle says, looking over the two of you again before leaving the room in search of food. 

You’re crying when he returns. 

He’s expecting it this time, less shocked by your shuddering breaths and quiet sobs. John has shifted you both, his back against the headboard, your body curled up between his legs. There’s a stack of blankets wrapped around you, and one of your stuffed bears clutched tightly against your chest. John is purring softly, the sound vibrating in his chest as he tries to soothe you through the disorientation and sudden drop in hormones as you become more aware. 

“I let Dr. Keller know.” Kyle says, setting the tray of food down on the nightstand. “She’ll be here soon. Wants to do a quick checkup.”

“Fine with me.” John says, shifting you just slightly so he can set the tray in his lap. You let out a whimper at being moved, John’s purr intensifying until you settle again. “I’m starving.” He says, picking up the fork. 

“Johnny went and picked up lunch.” Kyle says, pulling your desk chair over to sit next to the bed. 

John chews the bite of food in his mouth. “How are they?” 

A smile tugs at Kyle’s lips. “Holding up. Johnny’s got a noticeable limp to his step.” 

John lets out a quiet chuckle. “I’d imagine so. Might have to mark him down as a casualty.” 

“I don’t think he’d complain.” Kyle says. “I can’t imagine any of us will be doing much for the next few days.” 

John shakes his head. “Definitely not. You and Simon are probably in the best shape. You’ll have to hold down the fort.” 

“We’ll do our best.” Kyle says. 

John eats his food eagerly, managing to get a couple bites of potato and some peas into your mouth. You’re aware enough to chew them a few times, probably not wanting to eat in your current state, but your body knows you need to. He’s glad omegas have the drive to eat as much as they can before their heats. You might not survive if you didn’t. Not on those nutritional bars. 

Kyle takes the tray once John is finished, setting it on your desk for now. He’ll give it to Johnny to take back when they go for dinner. John adjusts you against his chest again, resting his chin on your head as he goes through his emails and messages. You shift in his arms, pressing your face into his neck, your tears sliding down his skin. He rubs your back, keeping you pinned against him as he quietly purrs, trying to soothe you. It hurts them both that he can’t, but Kyle knows it’s a natural response. He doesn’t blame you. It must be so jarring not remembering, and all the physical things changing so rapidly, and adding on top of that the pain? He’d probably cry too. 

The knock at the door is soft and quiet, yet you still startle at it, jumping slightly in John's arms. He gently shushes you as a whimper chokes out through the tears. 

Kyle lets Dr. Keller in, closing the door behind her. The soft scent of beta fills the room, Dr. Keller doing her best not to startle you further in your disoriented state. John shifts you slightly so she can see you better. You let out a whine of indignation at being moved, the quiet purr still rumbling in John's chest. 

Dr. Keller sets her bag on the floor before kneeling next to the bed. “Hi honey.” She says, opening up her bag. “Still pretty out of it, huh.” 

The tears continue to cascade down your cheeks, your eyes barely open as you stare at her. You’re still leaning heavily against John’s chest, unable to hold yourself up. Dr. Keller brushes the hair away from your face before taking your temperature, holding the digital thermometer up to your forehead. 

She glances at the screen when it beeps, her brows furrowing just slightly. “A little low,” She says, putting the thermometer back in the bag. “But not concerning.”

John maneuvers you again, pulling an arm free from the blankets so she can check your blood pressure and pulse. 

“How did things go this time?” She asks, placing the blood pressure cuff around your arm. 

“Better.” John responds. “Smoother.” 

“Easier now that we know what to expect.” Kyle says. 

“Good.” Dr. Keller says, taking your pulse and blood pressure. “Heart rate and blood pressure are normal.” She puts the monitors back into the bag, pulling out a pill bottle. “Muscle relaxers, same as last time. Her temperature is a little low, but that could just be a response to such a rapid drop in body temperature as well as changes in her hormones. If she starts feeling cold to the touch, or her extremities start turning blue, get her to emergency.” She zips up her bag, pushing herself up to stand. She gives John a pointed look. “Take care of yourself too. I recommend ice packs.” 

A smile quirks John’s lips, but he doesn't offer any arguments or disagreements. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” 

Kyle already knows he’s going to be sent for ice packs soon. 

Dr. Keller turns to face him, giving him a soft smile. Kyle hasn’t had many interactions with your doctor, most of them being during your heat and after. Yet, he can’t help but feel comforted by her presence. Maybe it’s her ability to project her scent so much, enough to make even him feel relaxed, or maybe it’s just her calm demeanor, the way she always seems to be so confident and in control. 

“Same thing as last time. Check for blood, if she’s still unresponsive or refusing food after a couple of hours, call me.” She says. “You did a good job, again. You should be proud.” 

Kyle smiles. “I am. Thank you, doctor.” 

He sees her out of the barracks, standing in the cool air for a moment before he closes the door, heading back to your room. 

You’re tucked against John’s chest again, curled up as tight as you can. John has shuffled down the headboard a bit, relaxing back against your pillows. You’re still crying, but it’s been reduced to mostly sniffles. He steps up to the bed, running a hand over your head. He wants to braid your hair again, keep it from tangling but he wouldn’t dare move you right now. His hand moves lower, wrapping around John’s wrist, his thumb brushing his alpha’s skin for a moment. 

“You should go do something.” John says, eyes half closed. “Get out of here and take a break for a bit. We’ll be fine. Going to take a long nap.” 

A smile tugs at Kyle’s lips. He loves moments like this, when his Captain, his alpha is sleepy. He’s softer, the usual sternness that paints his face gone, his shoulders relaxed. It’s partially due to the pain he has to be in, and the exhaustion after the last five days beginning to hit him now that your heat has passed. Kyle squeezes his wrist for a moment before letting go. He’s a bit unsure of what he should do, after standing watch and taking care of the two of you for almost a week. It feels strange to leave now, especially with the two of you so vulnerable. 

John’s hand wraps around his wrist before he can move away, and he turns to look back at his alpha. “Grab me an ice pack first.” 

Kyle’s lips tug up in a smirk. “Of course, sir.” 

He heads to the rec room, pulling one of the larger ice packs out of the freezer before heading back to your room. He doesn’t bother closing your door this time, letting the room air out just a bit as he goes to your bathroom. He grabs a hand towel from under your sink before wrapping it around the ice pack. He pushes the cabinet door closed with his foot before heading back into your room. 

He pulls the stack of blankets and your comforter up just enough to slip it underneath, feeling blindly as he situates it against John’s crotch. The alpha lets out a quiet sigh as he settles the ice pack in place, the cold already beginning to sink through the towel. 

“Thank you.” He says to Kyle, eyes half open as he stares up at his beta. 

“Get some sleep.” Kyle says, tucking the blankets around the both of you before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. 

He stares at his cot, knowing he should start cleaning up, but he’s tired himself. He feels the urge to lay down again, but instead he heads for the laundry room, switching over the laundry. 

He stands in the middle of the hallway once he’s done, staring down one side towards the rec room. He could always sprawl out on the couch and turn on some daytime TV show and pass out there. It wouldn't be too terribly uncomfortable compared to the cot he’s spent the last five days on. 

He turns his head down the other side of the hallway, glancing toward Simon’s office. They have yet to show their faces, not since they left to grab lunch. He wonders if they’ve even returned, or if they chose to stay away for the time being. He chews on his lip for a moment before making his decision, turning down the hallway towards Simon’s office. 

The scent of alpha is strong down the hallway, the musky scent a relief after the sweet scent that’s permeated his thoughts. He doesn’t mind your scent usually, but after five days of the intoxicating sweetness, he needs a break. He needs something fresher, something...different. 

He pauses at the door, hesitating for a moment. He could use some company for a while. He’s been alone with his thoughts far too much. He takes the plunge, knocking on the door. There’s no immediate response, which he was expecting. 

“Just me.” He says, pressing close to the door as he waits. 

“Enter.” Simon’s gruff voice finally says, Kyle just catching it through the door. He might not have heard it if he hadn’t been so close. 

Kyle turns the knob, opening the door. The scent of sex and the thick musk of alpha hits him like a train as he leans into the office. Simon is seated on the edge of one of the cots, mask off and pants flung onto the floor by his desk. Johnny is on his knees between Simon’s legs, a distinct choking sound coming from his throat. 

Simon releases Johnny’s head, letting him pull back from his alpha’s cock. He takes in deep gulps of air, his hand still wrapped around Simon’s hard length. Kyle leans against the doorway, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. 

“They’re done and cleared, whenever you’re ready.” He tells them. 

Simon grips Johnny’s mohawk, still looking at Kyle as he pushes Johnny’s head towards his cock again. “We’re not quite done here yet.” 

“Looks that way.” Kyle says, and he can’t help the stirring in his pants as Johnny takes Simon back into his mouth. 

A smirk tugs at Simon’s lips as he stares at the other beta. “Want to lend a helping hand? Give poor Johnny a break?” 

Kyle’s throat goes dry at the idea, his eyes flickering to where Johnny has Simon in the back of his throat, lips wide around the alpha’s thick cock. Kyle can’t help but wonder how many times he’s been in that position over the last few days. Johnny lets out a whine as Simon pushes him deeper, his nose almost pressed against the light hair at the base of Simon’s cock. 

“Fuck.” Kyle groans, closing the door behind him. 

Simon wraps his fingers around Kyle’s arm as soon as he’s close, yanking him down so hard Kyle almost falls against him. Kyle has a clear view of Johnny sucking on his alpha’s cock, bobbing his head on the massive length from this angle. Simon’s hand is tight around his forearm, holding him still as he presses his nose against Kyle’s throat. A deep growl rumbles in his chest, his teeth nipping at Kyle’s skin. 

Of course. Kyle hadn’t showered or changed clothes after he left your room. 

He smells like you. 

Simon’s hips buck up, Johnny letting out a strangled gag before he pulls back off of Simon’s cock. 

“Fucking christ.” Johnny chokes out, coughing after getting hit in the back of the throat by Simon’s cock. “Gonnae kill me.” 

Simon doesn’t pay him any mind, his tongue too busy trailing Kyle’s throat, as if he could lick every inch of your scent from his skin. There’s a low rumbling vibrating in Simon’s chest, his grip tight around Kyle’s arm. 

Kyle’s own cock is throbbing, almost as much as it had upon seeing slick drip out of your pussy. Simon lets out a growl before releasing Kyle’s arm, gripping him around the back of his neck. Kyle lets out a quiet moan as Simon forces him down on his knees next to Johnny. The alpha stands from the cot, towering over them as his hard cock nearly throbs in their faces. 

He stares down at them, his eyes dark with lust. It’s not unlike how John’s eyes had looked when he was lost to his rut. 

“Such pretty boys.” Simon rasps, running a hand over each of their heads. 

Johnny purrs, leaning into his touch. Kyle feels the beginnings of a purr rising in his chest, his beta pleased by the large alpha’s praise. 

Kyle turns to face Johnny, gripping his fellow beta’s chin. He turns Johnny to look at him, that gleam in his eyes and stupid grin he gets when he’s subby on his face. Kyle leans forward, licking Johnny’s lips, silently conveying what he wants. Johnny responds immediately, opening his mouth to Kyle. Kyle drags his tongue along Johnny’s, tasting the familiar muskiness of Simon’s cum. 

They’ve been at this for a while. 

Johnny moans needily, his lips closing around Kyle’s tongue, sucking it into his mouth. Kyle groans, pressing his lips to Johnny’s, kissing him deeply. 

“Fucking hell.” Simon groans, fisting his throbbing cock as he stares down at the two betas making out in front of him. 

Drool drips down their chins, Kyle’s mind flashing back to the drool that had dripped out of your mouth, pooling on his chest. His cock throbs and he presses closer to Johnny, holding his face still as he licks the spit from Johnny’s skin. 

Simon groans, watching them. “If you two don’t get back to what you’re supposed to be doing...” 

Johnny grins playfully, both of them turning to face Simon with shiny faces. Simon’s cock is hard and angry looking as he holds it out for them, waiting patiently. Kyle slides his hand down Simon’s cock, replacing the alpha’s hand as he grips the base. Johnny and Kyle both lean forward, dragging their tongues down the sides of Simon’s cock, tracing the veins popping out. Simon groans as they work their way back towards his head, their tongues meeting at the tip. Their tongues swirl over the engorged head, flicking along his slit to gather the precum dripping from the tip of his cock. 

They pull away for a moment, Johnny licking the fluid from Kyle’s mouth before they kiss again, Kyle’s hand pumping Simon’s length. Kyle’s free hand sinks into Johnny’s mohawk, tugging him away from his lips. His hand is still pumping Simon’s cock as he guides Johnny back towards his alpha, Johnny’s mouth opening eagerly. Kyle guides Simon’s thick length into Johnny’s mouth again, using his grip on Johnny’s hair to move him along Simon’s cock. 

Johnny takes more and more of Simon into his mouth, choking slightly as Simon’s head pushes against his tongue. His throat has to be sore after this last week, but not nearly as much as his poor ass. Kyle pushes Johnny all the way onto Simon’s cock, the beta’s nose pressing into the hair around Simon’s cock. Johnny gags, his hands pressing against Simon’s thick thighs before Kyle pulls him off his alpha’s cock. 

Kyle quickly replaces him, licking Johnny’s saliva off the thick length before taking Simon’s cock into his mouth. He relaxes his throat, bobbing his head lower and lower on Simon’s cock. He’s always impressed by the alpha’s size, his own cock throbbing at the memory of John’s cock, the knot pressing right against his rim. 

Simon’s knot must be damn near colossal. 

Kyle presses down until he can feel it, Simon’s cock pushing on the back of his tongue. He pulls off of Simon’s cock, pumping the length for a moment as he breathes. Johnny takes his place again, sucking on Simon’s tip as Kyle cups Simon’s balls in his hand. Simon groans, a growl still rumbling in his chest as your scent still lingers in the air. 

“Gonna cum for us, alpha?” Kyle says, squeezing Simon’s balls gently. 

“Fuck...” Simon groans, the word long and drawn out. 

Kyle and Johnny switch places, Johnny fondling Simon’s balls as Kyle takes Simon’s cock in his mouth again. Simon reaches down, cupping the back of Kyle’s head as he begins to thrust into his mouth, the tangy precum dripping onto Kyle’s tongue telling him everything he needs to know. The alpha is close, his thick length twitching against Kyle’s tongue. Johnny massages Simon’s balls, holding onto them as Simon continues to fuck Kyle’s mouth, the beta suctioning around the alpha as best he can. 

Simon pulls out of Kyle’s mouth, pumping his cock rapidly as he cums, his seed spurting out and landing on Kyle and Johnny’s faces. Kyle licks the salty cum from his lips, wiping the bits from his face with his fingers before sucking them into his mouth. He leans over, dragging his tongue over Johnny’s skin, gathering the rest of Simon’s cum. 

Simon is breathing heavily as he watches Kyle lick Johnny clean before they kiss again, passing Simon’s cum back and forth on their tongues. Simon moans, squeezing around the base of his cock, trying to keep himself from getting hard again as he watches the two betas. 

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny groans as Kyle licks his lips one last time before swallowing down Simon’s cum. “Never gonnae tire of that.” 

“Such a good boy.” Simon praises, running a hand over Kyle’s head. “A reward for taking such good care of our alpha and omega.” 

Kyle grins, practically preening from the alpha’s praise. 

They have no idea. 

NEXT ->

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@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp

[hey-sunshines]

the scene where odysseus kills the suitors is very dramatic and all but like. he’s got no clothes on????

i arrive on ithaca

bow: strung

disguise: off

dick: out

[hey-sunshines]

reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead

[hey-sunshines]

simon riley is buying the engagement ring after he got you inside after a night out at the bar. he heard your sweet little frustrated noises and your soft 'no's when he tried to give you water. and then refused to wear nothing but his xxl hoodie to bed because all other clothes were too "complicated" - whatever that meant.

eventually he got you settled into bed with promises of french toast in the morning - you wanted it now. and while he stayed up for a little bit more, he scrolled online for engagement ring options and wondered if he could measure your ring size while you were asleep beside him.

he couldn't remember, did you want a (lab-grown) diamond or a plain band? maybe when the hangover healed he'd ask you <3

[hey-sunshines]

Old man!Price who has an erectile dysfunction but still has massive musky sweaty breeder balls is my happy place.

I forgot who but one of the writers here were talking about how Price gets whiskey dick (please someone let me know who it is so I can tag them) but that cannot be further from the bloody truth!

Especially when he’s slightly dazed from the alcohol and all the blood is rushing to his cock, John is definitely getting you on your knees for a little sucky sucky.

Now, now, don’t worry. He’ll make sure to fuck you afterwards but he just needs the feel of your own on his painfully hard ‘blue balls’ cock right now.

I am a big fan of thinking about giving Price head when he’s all soft. Price feels vulnerable and soft and loved and literally boneless from your worship.

But, hard dick Price combined with being drink is insufferable. He’ll make sure that his cock hits the back of your throat every time he thrusts into your mouth while he holds your hands above you head so that you can’t push him away.

Afterwards when he’s cum down your throat at least once, he’ll shove his breeder balls into your face and make you sniff them real good and lick the sweat of them.

Best believe you nuzzle into his balls for the reminder of the night.

[hey-sunshines]

Gaz is giving "I'm not a gynecologist, but I know a cunt when I see" one in this pic 🤣

[hey-sunshines]

MODERN WARFARE II   ►   LT. SIMON ’GHOST’ RILEY

“Be careful who you trust, Sergeant.  People you know can hurt you the most.”

[hey-sunshines]

simon would own one of two dogs - either a rottweiler or a corgi.

rottweiler - courageous, obedient, good with the little riley babies, over-all a good guard dog for the household while simon was out. she's protecting you and your sons!

corgi - it's the queen's dog...

[hey-sunshines]

[hey-sunshines]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 27: Drown In It

Summary: Your heat lingers closer and closer, which leaves you with some conflicting feelings. Of course, you're not going to worry about them for much longer...

Paring: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,179 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, bodily fluids, heat cycles, knotting, licking, biting, grinding, spanking (it's like once), kissing, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, a sprinkle of angst, language, emotions, and of course some fluff

A/N: And we're in it again, folks. It's happening (again). Though this time, there may be a bit of a surprise....

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Yes I am using a Barry Sloane gif, trust me you will understand once you read the chapter)

You freeze, dread and panic beginning to fill you as you stand in the doorway to the rec room. The pounding of your heart is loud in your ears, which are quickly growing hot. The urge to turn tail and run is strong, yet you can’t move, frozen in place by the sight in front of you. 

Simon is sitting, far too relaxed, in the chair where he normally sits. There’s a book in his hands, the crinkle of the page being turned is like a gunshot. You almost flinch in response, but hold still, wondering if you could back away before he notices your presence. You know it would be futile. He would have heard the crinkling of the bag of chips in your hand, the quiet rustle of it against your leg as soon as you turned the corner. 

“Interesting book, this.” He says, not bothering to look up as he sits reclined in the chair, about halfway through the book in his hands. 

Your mouth goes dry as you stare at him. You might never have given him, or the book, a second glance had you not been so clearly able to see the cover. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose, hoping you’d see what he’d found, what he’d discovered in your underwear drawer. It’s almost like he was hoping you’d walk in and see it. Or maybe he heard you coming and positioned himself so you’d see it. 

“‘The Powerful Omega.’” He says, closing the book to stare at the title. 

You shift on your feet nervously, ready to run if you need to, the bag of chips crinkling as you tighten your grip on it.. “I-I can explain-” 

“No need.” He says, cutting you off as he flips the book back open. “Is this how you got into our heads so easily?” 

Despite the accusing question, his tone isn’t malicious or even disparaging. You fiddle with your fingers, starting to feel like you’re being tested. If you say yes, what will he do? Get angry, accuse you of manipulation? But if you say no, he might think you’re lying, or perhaps he already knows the answer. 

“I-It helped a bit.” You say, shuffling forward a step. “At first. I almost forgot it was in there.” 

“‘Learn to Speak Their Language.’” He reads off the chapter title, your cheeks warming a bit. Of course he’d be there when you caught him. He stares at you over the top of the book, your gaze turned to the black TV screen. You can’t stare at him. Not right now. “Is this why you asked me to train you?” 

There’s no lying to him. You already know that. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, nodding. “It was part of it. It gave me the idea, but then I realized if I’m gonna go around making stupid decisions like punching alphas, maybe I should know how to defend myself a little. I-I also thought it might help me get closer to you, at least get you to tolerate me a bit.” 

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, I can say it worked. Was more you than anything, but I was a bit touched you asked me.” 

Your nervousness begins to calm as you realize he’s not angry you have the book. He’s also not angry you used it to get closer to them, to begin to integrate yourself into their pack. You set your chips down on the coffee table, sitting on the edge of the couch. 

“How did you get it?” He asks. 

“I called Kate.” You give him a small smile. “When she sent me the first uh...care package. That was part of it.” 

He huffs, shaking his head. “Sneaky thing.” 

“I mean, one of you was bound to find it eventually.” You shrug. “Thought it might be Johnny with how often he sneaks into my underwear drawer. Though, I suppose he steals them from the laundry basket more often.” 

He hums, his gaze returning to the book. 

“Are you really reading it?” You ask. 

“‘Course.” He responds, getting comfortable in the chair again. 

A smile tugs at your lips as you watch him, his focus zeroing in on the book again. You get an idea, rising from the couch to scan the shelves in the rec room. You find a manual on guns and ammunition, sitting back down with the heavy book in one hand, your chips in the other. Simon glances at you over the top of his book again as you make yourself comfortable on the other side of the couch, the title clearly visible as you turn to the first page. 

“Really?” He asks, exasperated. 

You shrug, glancing up at him. “It’s only fair.” 

“Little shit.” He rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh as he goes back to reading your book. You sink down against the arm of the couch, using your book to hide your satisfied grin. 

“It never fails to amaze me.” 

“Huh?” You turn to face Johnny, a piece of popcorn falling out of your mouth from how much you've managed to stuff inside in one bite. 

“How much ye can eat during your pre-heat.” He says, grabbing the piece of popcorn that landed on the couch between you. 

You attempt to say something in response, but it comes out as a muffled mess around the popcorn you’re chewing. Johnny eats the piece that fell, reaching for the bowl. You move it out of his reach, pressing your foot against his side to keep him from getting too close. 

“Mine.” You say, pushing against his side, trying to get him to move away from you. 

He’s undeterred, using his size against you as he reaches for the bowl. A low growl rubles in your chest as you lean backwards, trying to keep it out of his reach. He freezes at the sound, staring down at you as you glare at him. 

“Did ye just growl at me?” He blinks at you, his lips turning up in a grin. 

You bare your teeth at him, another growl rumbling in your chest. You go for his arm, his reflexes just managing to yank it out of the way before your teeth sink into his skin. 

“Alright, alright.” He says, holding up his hands as he sinks back into his spot. “I got the message.” He grins as you sit up, holding the bowl protectively against your chest. “That might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” He pulls out his phone, snapping a picture as you glare at him. 

Your glare deepens as you shovel more popcorn into your mouth. He nearly giggles as he stares down at his phone, tapping on the screen a few times. You push yourself up, trying to get a look at his screen. “Who are you sending that to?” You ask between mouthfuls of popcorn. 

“The group chat.” He says, as if that’s not revealing news. 

“Group chat?” You ask around another mouthful. 

He nods. “Just the four of us fellas for blethering.” 

You blink at him, trying to translate what he means in your pre-heat addled brain. “Huh?” You say stupidly, a piece of popcorn dropping back into the bowl from the handful you had been holding up halfway to your mouth. 

“We like tae gossip among each other.” He says, giving you a grin. 

“Do you...talk about me?” You ask before shoving the handful of popcorn in your mouth. 

“All the time.” He answers, using his reflexes to steal a piece of popcorn from the bowl. 

You’re too distracted to care, though if your mouth hadn’t been full you might have been tempted to bite him in retaliation. “‘Bout what?” You ask, the words almost unintelligible thanks to the popcorn you’re still chewing. 

“Oh, lots of things.” He grins. “How cute ye look all cozy in yer bed, how nicely yer arse looks in your skids, how we got ye to moan like that, tips on how tae make yer legs shake-” He does let out a giggle as you softly kick him in his side.

“Rude.” You pout as you curl up against the arm of the couch away from him with your bowl. “Could at least include me.” 

“Aw but we need our space,” He says, leaning closer to you. “Fer all our mingin' gab.” 

You give him a look, still trying to process his words as he presses a kiss to your head. He uses your distraction to steal a piece of popcorn from the bowl, immediately jumping away from you as you react, letting out another growl. The popcorn bowl falls to the floor as you leap at him, ready to sink your teeth into his arm. 

“You're avoiding me.”

Simon glances up at you before looking back at his computer. “Not on purpose. You know the dangers if you go into heat too close.” 

He’s right. Though, you think you’d know if your heat was starting and you could get away before things got dangerous. Of course, with his sensitive instincts, he might notice before you do. Things would get ugly fast if John noticed too and tried to stop Simon. You’re not sure the betas could get to you in time to try and stop them, or at least get you away in hopes it clears their heads enough. 

You look around Simon’s office, the desk shoved further back to make room for the two cots set up in the corner closest to the door. Soon he and Johnny would be shut in here, avoiding the hallway around the corner while you and John fucked nearly non-stop for the next week. 

It feels different now that you’ve reached this new stage of your relationship with Simon. He’s not on the outside anymore, not separate from you. There’s a strong bond there now, one both of you have contributed to. He had made the boundary clear, even without having to say anything. He won’t take the risk of helping you. He’s not your alpha. 

However, wouldn’t complain if he were the one to get to you first, to lock you in his office and throw you on the cots and fuck you stupid for the next week. You shift on your feet at the thought of taking his knot, being pumped full of him and locked together. Would he remove his mask? Would you remember his face at the end of your heat-induced haze? 

He’d never forgive himself if it happened. He’d close himself off, avoid you like the plague. It would shred that fragile bond that has been set in place. 

You won’t entertain those thoughts anymore. Not when he’s so clearly drawn the line. 

You take half a step forward, pausing at the growl that rumbles in his chest. He’s setting another boundary, warning you of the dangers both of you pose towards each other in this delicate time. 

You continue forward despite the obvious warning, pushing against the instincts telling you to heed it and stay back. Yet, he doesn't stop you as you pass his desk, slinging a leg over him and planting yourself in his lap. It’s obvious, the tension in his body as you sit there, as if you might go into heat at any second. There will be signs once it is coming on, symptoms different from ones you feel outside of heats. 

You stare up into his eyes, his gaze sharp but not piercing as it once might have been. There’s a softness to it, something you might even call affection as he stares down at you. 

“Will you kiss me?” You ask softly, hesitantly. “One last time? So maybe I might remember you still like me when I wake up on the other side of this?” 

“I don’t think you could forget that.” He says, his hands dropping to grip your thighs. 

“Still...would be nice to have one.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “For good luck?” 

He hums, the sound rumbling in his chest, before he lifts a hand, pulling his mask up to his nose. He leans forward, meeting you halfway as he presses his lips to yours. 

The kiss is searing, conveying a deep passion and almost a longing feeling as his lips move against yours. Does he regret his decision not to even offer to help you? You’re not sure even you would have said yes to his offer. It’s only your second heat, the second time you’ve trusted your pack to care for you in such a vulnerable position. While you don’t distrust Simon and his ability to take care of you, a deep part of you longs for your alpha and the surety and safety he’s already proven. 

Simon’s hand slides up your back, brushing over your neck before cradling the back of your head. He holds you still as he licks the seam of your lips. You moan softly against his mouth, wishing you could pull him closer, wishing you could sink into him and avoid the inevitable heat lingering over your head. 

A sigh is pulled from your lips as his tongue presses into your mouth, taking its time to explore before flicking against your own. His other arm wraps around your back, tugging you against him, chest to chest, legs spread around his hips. Had you not been trying to rest your body, or entirely disinterested in sex currently, you might have fucked him right in this chair, one last time before you’re lost to your heat and your alpha. 

He pulls away from your lips, resting his forehead against yours as you both pant softly. The silence is loud, but it speaks volumes between you, sharing things you’re too scared to say out loud, things that push the boundaries of vulnerability between the two of you. There will be time afterward, plenty of time to gently push those boundaries and continue to worm your way into his most intimate thoughts. 

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. You can see the dots of freckles on his skin, the shades of brown in his eyes. His breath is warm against your lips as you sit there, almost like you’re trying to commit each other to memory, as if you’ll forget about him as soon as the door seals you and John inside your room. You will forget in the throes of your heat, but once the haze fades and you come back to yourself, you’ll remember him. He won’t be far, and neither will you. 

“See you on the other side?” You say, cupping his face, letting your thumb trace the line of his jaw, his stubble prickling your skin. 

He leans forward, kissing you once more, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

“See you on the other side.” 

You’re on fire.

Sweat has soaked your skin and right through the loose shirt you had donned earlier. It’s dripping down your face, offering no relief from the lava pulsing under your skin. You’re surprised the liquid doesn’t start sizzling as it drips down your chest and arms. You’re panting softly, legs spread as you lay on the bed. There’s a steady pulsing between your legs, the ache and need beginning to steadily grow more intense as slick seeps out of you and onto the blankets below. 

You woke earlier with a crawling sensation under your skin, your pajamas quickly ditched in favor of the baggy shirt to avoid the overstimulation of any tight fabric. You knew last night as soon as the ravenous hunger began to abate that you were close. Mid-bite of some potatoes the hunger had faded and suddenly they looked almost repulsive. Simon and Johnny had moved into his office and you quarantined in your room with Kyle and John on standby. 

Sleep had evaded you for most of the night as you waited for it to start, expecting it to be in the middle of the night like last time. Your mind had faded in and out of sleep, expecting to wake any moment with the uncomfortable feverish heat beneath your skin. 

Instead you woke early with no sign of it yet, still dry between your legs and almost cold from the always cool air in the barracks. The only sign had been the itching, crawling feeling beneath your skin. 

You’d made it just past lunch, Kyle bringing in food for you, which you had struggled through, only eating to try and get some last calories into your body. The familiar electrolyte drinks and nutrition bars that will keep both you and John alive over the next week, sit in stacks next to the door, some already set up on your nightstand. Your bed has been stripped down to a sheet, your pillow, and the blanket you slept under last night. Your stuffed animals and decorative pillows sit piled on your desk in the corner. 

It came on suddenly, the heat beneath your skin. The prickling sensation had begun in your core and flared outward to your very fingertips. It had been like a flushing feeling, the heat rippling through you. The book in your hands slid onto the floor as the deep cramping began, making you wince. You’re not quite sure what had been worse, the pain or the initial panic. 

Your phone is on the floor with your book after you’d managed to send a text to Kyle. The panic is still bubbling under the surface as your brain begins to get foggy, its only focus the pulsing between your thighs. It’s been a while since you’ve been awake for the start of your heat. The last one had started in your sleep, and the one before that you had been sedated by the CIA, closely monitored and put under before the itching even began under your skin. 

Your trembling fingers fumble with one of the electrolyte drinks on your nightstand, struggling to wrap around it and then get the cap off. It does little to soothe the dryness in your mouth, but you drink as much of it as you can. 

The door opens, Kyle slipping through before quickly closing it behind him. He approaches the bed, that sympathetic look in his eyes again. He’s not sure what to say, you can tell by his hesitance, but what is there to say in this moment? ‘Good luck, hope John doesn’t accidentally hurt you?’ 

You don’t blame him for his silence, though you know his beta is agitated, wanting to offer you comfort and support, but he can’t. He can’t do much for you this time, only your alpha can. 

Kyle bends down, picking up your phone and book from the floor before checking the charge on your phone. He sets it down on the nightstand, pulling another from his pocket and placing it down next to yours. It’s John’s personal phone. You recognize the familiar olive green case. Kyle will alternate charging them, mostly for John’s peace of mind. Not that he’ll care much about potential calls or messages while he’s knotted inside of you. 

“You’ll be okay.” Kyle says, brushing the wisps of hair stuck to your forehead back. Johnny had braided it last night, his final act of comfort before retreating with Simon to their own quarantined space. Kyle must have noted the nervous edges in your scent still lingering in the air as he tries to comfort you. 

You hold his hand against your face, nuzzling your cheek against his rough palm. It’s not quite enough, he’s not quite enough, but it’s no fault of his own. Your instincts are beginning to take over. The desire for an alpha, your alpha, to help you is overtaking any rational thought. 

Kyle strokes your cheek for a moment before he pulls away, taking the bottle from your trembling hands and tossing it in the trash. He folds your blanket and drapes it over the footboard before setting your book on your desk. 

“John knows.” He says, standing close to the door. “He’ll be in soon.” 

All you can do is nod as you rub your thighs together, trying to get any ounce of friction you can. The fabric of the shirt you’re wearing is like a million tiny knives against your skin, but your hands are useless as they tug at the fabric. You can’t get your body to work enough to pull it off. 

A pathetic whine leaves your lips as the door opens again. You’re still tugging at your shirt, writhing in your attempts to both remove the offending fabric from your skin and also get some relief for the pulsing between your thighs. 

“Alpha...” You whine, vision zeroing in on your alpha as he stands there, staring at you with dark eyes. 

“Look at you.” He rasps, taking slow steps closer and closer to you. 

Another whine falls from your lips as you reach out for him, desperate to feel him against you, like his very touch could ease the fire burning beneath your skin. Your arm is shaking by the time he reaches you, his fingers brushing against your hand. A content purr rumbles in your chest as he finally touches you, rough fingers tracing your palm before continuing down the inside of your arm. A shiver shakes your body at the feeling of his rough calluses against your sensitive skin. You wish those fingers would go elsewhere, your mouth watering at the thought of them between your thighs again. 

“Alpha,” You whine again as he grips your upper arm, yanking you up. 

In one fluid motion he sits on your bed, tugging your body onto his lap. His arms wrap around you, holding you against him, your slick dribbling onto the front of his pants. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest, his pupils dilating as his alpha begins to come out, his alpha responding to the thick scent of your pheromones in the room. 

You press against him, but it’s not enough. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the prickling of the hair on his chest against your sensitive skin. His hands trail up your sides, the drag of the fabric of your shirt against your skin making you whine. You need to feel him, not the synthetic material separating you. He slides his hands all the way up, skirting past your breasts and sensitive nipples to grip the neck of the shirt, ripping it down the center. 

Your omega purrs happily at the display of strength, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as he pushes the shirt from your shoulders, freeing you from the overwhelming sensation. His hands flatten against your back, a content purr leaving your lips at the feeling of his skin against yours. You arch into him, pressing your hips against the prominent bulge in his pants. Your fingers tug at his own shirt, but you lack the strength to tear it off him, even as you paw at the fabric. You likely wouldn’t have been able to anyway outside the throes of your heat. 

“Needy little thing.” He purrs, nipping at your bottom lip. 

You chase his lips, kissing him harshly. His fingers dig into your back as you push your tongue into his mouth, licking at his own tongue. Your thighs clench around his hips at the thought of that tongue between your legs, more slick soaking the front of his pants as it gushes out of you. 

His hands slide down to grip your hips, dragging your slit along the front of his jeans. You moan at the delicious friction, pulling away from his mouth to kiss down his throat. His beard tickles your skin as he tilts his head, bearing his throat to you. A low growl rumbles through your chest as he allows himself to be in such a vulnerable position. You’re shaking in his arms as he guides your hips to grind against his pants, legs clenching around his hips. You’re close, the pulsing beneath your veins getting stronger and stronger. 

“Gonna cum like this?” He growls, his grip almost bruising on your hips. “Without me even touching you? Make yourself cum and I’ll give you what you need.” 

Your heat-addled brain somehow comprehends his words, picking out the parts it needs as you shift on his lap, dragging your clit against the seam of his jeans. Your face presses against his throat, devouring his scent straight from the source. It goes right to your head, the earthy scent nearly indistinguishable from the musk of his rut. 

Your body shudders as your first orgasm rocks you, slick gushing out of you like a tidal wave. You sink your teeth into his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin. 

“Son of a-” He curses, delivering a harsh slap to your bare ass. “Fuckin’ naughty little omega.” 

You grin, lapping at the teeth marks you’ve left on his skin as you press your ass into his hand. Your orgasm has provided a little relief, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. Not until you have his knot inside you. 

You tug at his shirt again, bunching the fabric in your hands. “Off.” You whine, desperate to feel his skin against yours. 

He finally acquiesces, pushing you back far enough to tug his shirt off. Drool drips down your chin as you stare at the skin now exposed to you. You can’t help yourself as you lean forward, licking your way across his collarbones and his chest. You slide off his lap, kneeling between his legs as you lick your way down his chest, dragging your tongue across his soft stomach. 

He grips the back of your neck, pulling you away from his skin. Your tongue is still sticking out, almost like it’s trying to taste every last bit of him that might be in the air. “Fuck.” He groans, pushing you back as he moves to stand. 

You grab his hand before he can fully stand, tugging with surprising strength. He falls into you, both of you falling back onto the floor in a mess of limbs. Your omega scratches in the back of your brain, your gaze sharpening as you wrestle with him, finally managing to pin him on the floor. 

His eyes are almost black, a dangerous growl rumbling in his chest. Slick dribbles out of you, smearing on his stomach as you return his growl, baring your teeth at him. You want him to submit, you need him to submit to you. Your omega doesn't care about the obvious challenge, the stupidity of trying to control a rutting alpha. 

Yet, he goes lax beneath you, his gaze still sharp and cautious as he stares at you. 

Your growl softens into a purr as he relaxes, submitting to you for a moment. You bend down again, your tongue flattening against his skin once more. Your eyes are locked on his as you lick the beading sweat on his chest, purring at the saltiness of it on your tongue. You continue your way down his body, following the path down his chest and across his stomach. His eyes leave yours, watching the wiggle of your bare ass as you crawl backwards, continuing to lick across his stomach until you reach the puddle of shiny slick streaked across his skin. 

He lets out a rumbling purr as you lap at your own slick. It’s sweet from your pheromones, yet there’s the familiar tang of your natural taste on your tongue as you clean the mess you’ve made on your alpha’s skin. 

As soon as you deem his skin clean enough you continue downward, licking at the waistband of his jeans. Your fingers are shaking as you paw at his pants, trying to get your fingers to work to remove the last barrier between you. You need your alpha’s cock, you need to see it, to taste it. Your mouth is watering as you fumble helplessly, unable to handle such fine motor skills when all your brain is screaming to do is fuck. 

He pushes your hands out of the way, undoing his pants easily. He wiggles them down enough until his cock has sprung free, heavy and almost throbbing on his stomach. You stare at it wide eyed, drool slipping down your chin as you stare at it. You need it, you need his knot now, the burning under your skin intensifying from how close you are to finally getting what you need. You wrap your hand around his heavy length, the tip already leaking as you lean down, dragging your tongue from his balls to the tip. He lets out a groan as you close your lips around the head, flicking your tongue across his slit. 

You hold his gaze, dragging your tongue across his head once more before lifting yourself and shifting over his hips. You hold his gaze as you drag his cock through your folds, your needy brain searching for the spot you need. You let out a whine as you find it, his head catching on your entrance. You don’t hesitate, a long, desperate sounding whine falling from your lips as you sink down onto his length. 

It goes in easily, your body opening to him eagerly, your slick aiding the process as it gushes down the length of his cock. You make it halfway before pausing, breathing for a moment before you sink the rest of the way down. 

Your pussy flutters around him, a whimper leaving your lips. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch of his cock inside of you. It’s still not enough, it’s still not what you need, but it does ease the ache throbbing in your pelvis. 

He lays there, eyes hooded as he watches you, content to let yourself use him in your needy state for now. Your hands press against his stomach as he sinks almost impossibly deep inside you, your hips settling against his. He reaches up, pressing against the bulge in your pelvis, your hips jerking at the shock of pleasure that thrums through you. 

He lets out a pleased rumble as you squeeze around him, slick dribbling out around the base of his cock. “Be a good omega, take what you need.” He commands, his alpha rough around the edges of his voice. 

Your hands press firmly against his stomach, using him for leverage as you begin to move, lifting your hips and then letting them drop. Quiet whimpers leave your lips with every movement as his cock drags along your walls. The ache in your bones is finally starting to ease, the burning itch beneath your skin fading. You rock on your alpha’s cock, using his body for your pleasure as he lays there, content to watch you. 

The low rumble in his chest vibrates through you, inaudible under your desperate whines and the squelch of your pussy on his cock, but you can feel it in your hands, your subconscious picking up on it in a way you can’t understand. It only adds to the pleasure coursing through you, your clit throbbing from the friction against his jeans earlier. 

You’re tired, your legs shaking as you begin to slow down. The need pulsing through you is strong, but your heat-addled body is not. You whine desperately as you grind on his cock, seeking out any sort of pleasure you can get as your legs give out, too exhausted and weak to continue. 

“What’s the matter?” John says, lips pulling up in a smirk. “Poor little omega getting tired? Can’t fuck herself on my cock anymore?” 

“Please...” You whine, nearly crying in desperation. “Need your knot alpha.” 

“Then take it.” He says, not making any move to help you. 

“Can’t,” You whine. “Need you to do it. Need you to take care of me.” 

He lets out a growl at your confession, his hands finally moving to your hips. He pulls you off of his cock, flipping you around so you’re on your knees, upper body pressed against the floor. You push your ass up as high as you can for him, presenting for your alpha. He lets out a pleased rumble, his fingers dragging through your slick coated slit. You whine needily, pushing back against his hand. 

“Easy.” He says, pressing close behind you. “Alpha’s got you.” 

Your eyes nearly roll back as he sinks into you again, the change in position nearly making you see stars as he begins fucking in you, the snap of his hips against yours rocking your body on the carpet. Your knees burn but you can hardly feel it as he fucks you through an orgasm, your walls clenching desperately around his cock. Your brain is going hazy again as you feel the swelling at the base of his cock pushing up against your entrance, drool pooling on the carpet beneath you as you wait for it, wait for him to push his knot inside you and tie the two of you together. 

“Alpha...alpha...” You chant the title like a mantra, the sounds slurring together as you push back against him. 

“Take it,” He grunts, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you steady in place. He pushes against you, his knot stretching your pussy as he begins pushing it into you. “Take it...good girl.” 

You whine as his knot pops into place, your body shuddering with another orgasm from the gaping stretch around him. He grinds his hips against you, his knot tugging at the entrance of your pussy as you clench tightly around him. He cums with a groan, his body falling over yours as he spurts his seed into you. You lay there, whining and panting beneath him, sweat still dripping down your back. 

Your brain is starting to float away, your mind going hazy again, but you’re not fighting it this time. You’re giving into your instincts, unable to do anything but submit to them, submit to your alpha. 

“I’ve got you.” Price says softly, gently brushing the sweaty strands of hair from your face that have fallen loose from your braid. 

You give into the haze, trusting him to take care of you. 

You’re not sure when you moved to the bed. It’s the crackle of the mattress protector that’s pulled you from your haze for a moment. One of those rare moments of clarity post-knot as you come back into your brain enough to be semi-aware of your surroundings. You won’t remember it by the time you come out of your heat, lost in the mush of hazy memories from the week. 

Your pussy is pulsing around John’s knot, his chest pressed into your back. You still feel hot, feverish as you lay there half out of it. John’s right arm is under you, wrapped around so his hand is against your chest. He’s holding the cap of an electrolyte bottle in his right hand, the plastic cool against your heated skin. 

There’s hands moving in front of you, pulling a charging cord from one phone to put it in the other. There’s voices, but you’re too far in the haze to understand what they’re saying. There’s a scent in the air, clearer and softer than the heavy musk that’s settled in the room. It goes straight to your head, nearly making you black out again. You want to taste it, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. 

Your hand shoots out, surprising even you with how fast it’s moved. Your brain feels slow as it tries to catch up with the movement, your fingers wrapped around someone’s wrist. Your hand has a mind of its own as it pulls the wrist closer, pressing it against your face. 

A soft, fresh scent fills your nose, your eyes fluttering as it pulses through you, your pussy convulsing around John’s knot. He groans behind you, his hips shifting just slightly in response. Your tongue darts out, licking at the wrist pressed against your face, trying to taste the scent. 

Salty, briney, fresh. The sea, you remember from the haze in your mind. It smells like the sea. You continue to lick it, wanting it to consume you, to sink into your brain and ease the aching need. 

“Careful, love.” A soft voice says, cutting through the scent-induced haze you’re in. 

The attached body tries to pull the wrist in your grip away, but you let out a whine, fingers tightening around it as you pull it closer. You drag your tongue against the skin again, letting out a quiet whine. You need it, your hand trembling around his wrist. 

The word feels heavy on your tongue, your heat-addled, scent drunk brain trying to form it on your lips, pushing it from your mind until it vibrates in the air audibly. The process feels like it takes minutes, when in reality it was likely only seconds. You tug on the wrist again, trying to bring the source closer. 

“Stay.” 

NEXT ->

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

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@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp

[hey-sunshines]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 26: Fuck

Summary: You're going insane. The need is insatiable, but that's not the only thing plaguing you.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,261

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, bodily fluids, gagging, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, a sprinkle of angst, fluff, obviously language, someone drops the L word, Simon rizzin' with the 'tism

A/N: You might be asking, am I really naming the chapter that? Yeah. I've been half asleep these last couple days (including while writing most of this) due to my change of meds so if this is ass, blame it on my medication lol. Anyway, yeah, you'll see with this one.

I'd also like to give very special thanks to @141wh0re who helped me with the Johnny scene I owe you big time, princess 🫶

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Hands squeeze your ass cheeks, pushing them apart to reveal your soaked pussy. You let out a quiet moan as the cool air in the room hits your damp slit. Another, louder moan leaves your lips as a thumb drags through your folds. Your pussy clenches at the sensation, slick oozing out of you in anticipation. Fingers rub it through your folds, teasing over your clit before pulling back. 

You let out a whine of indignation and disappointment, pressing your hips back as you chase after the touch needily. 

“Easy, you needy little pup.” You jump at the harsh slap against your cheek in retaliation. “I'll give you what you need.”

You whine, face pressed into the sheets as John kneels behind you. His warm breath across your damp folds is a delicious contrast to the cool air in the room. It has you whining and twitching, fingers sinking into the soft fabric under you. 

Your legs nearly give out at the first drag of his tongue through your folds. You moan softly, pressing back against his mouth. His hands press against your ass, keeping you still as he drags his tongue through your folds again. His beard tickles your thighs, prickling deliciously against the sensitive skin. You'll have beard burn by the end of this, but you can hardly complain. 

You never do. 

His thumbs part your folds again, spreading you open as his lips close around your clit. A long moan falls from your lips as he sucks on the sensitive bud. You're close to cumming already, your pussy sensitive after the last few days of near nonstop fucking with the members of your pack. 

“Fuck!” You moan against the sheets as John gives your clit a particularly hard suck. 

“Sensitive little thing.” He murmurs against your clit, his tongue flicking against the bud. 

You whine, legs starting to tremble as they fight to hold you up against the pleasure from John's mouth. He continues his relentless ministrations against your clit, rotating between suckling it and flicking it with his tongue. 

Your moans get more and more needy as you get closer and closer to the edge, John pushing you harder against the mattress so you don’t fall as your legs nearly give out. 

You cum with a cry, legs shaking as he holds you up, licking up every last drop from your pussy. 

He stands from between your legs, delivering another light slap to your ass. “On the bed.”

You pull yourself up fully on the mattress, turning to face him with a smirk. “How do you want me, daddy?”

A low growl rumbles in his chest as he stares down at you, his gaze darkening. He nods towards the pillow, his voice deep and rough. “On your back.”

You shift so you're laying on the bed, sinking into the pillow. He strips off his shirt and pants, hard cock springing free. You nearly drool at the sight of it, hard and weeping. He climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping from his weight. He settles himself between your knees, pushing them apart so you're spread open before him. He stares down at your weeping pussy, licking his lips. 

“So fucking needy.” He groans, pressing two fingers into you. You mewl at the stretch, pussy fluttering around his fingers. “So worked up over the littlest things. You'd cum just like this on my fingers, couldn't you?”

You clench around his fingers, your hips pressing closer to his hand. You could, even if he held them still. Your body feels like it's on fire, desire and lust and pleasure coursing through you. His scent has gone straight to your head, driving the neediness and desperation for some relief, something to take the edge off the intense throbbing in your pussy. 

“Need you, alpha.” You whine, continuing to fuck yourself on his fingers. 

He holds his hand there for a few moments, watching your slick coat his fingers before he pulls them free, spreading your legs further apart. You lift yourself up on your elbows as you watch him press forward, dragging his cock through your folds. Your lips part, quiet gasps slipping free as his head catches on your clit, smearing his precum through your folds. 

You flop back against the pillow again as he presses into you, splitting you open around his cock. He's so big, so warm as he takes his time, working himself into you. You moan at the stretch, pressing your legs further open around him, as if that will help him sink in deeper. 

You can't do anything but lay there and moan as he pushes into you to the hilt, hips flush against yours as he bends over you, his hands framing your face. You stare up at him, meeting his gaze as he sits there inside you for a moment. Your pussy flutters around him, the intensity of his stare shooting straight through you. 

He lets out a quiet grunt as you squeeze around him, pulling his hips back before slowly pressing back in. You’re nearly hypnotized as you stare up at him, as he continues to move, fucking you slowly. Your breath hitches at the intensity, the passion building in the moment. 

He shifts his position, pressing his body down against yours. He grinds against you as he picks up the pace, his hand cupping the back of your head as he presses his lips to yours. You moan into the kiss with every pass of his pelvis over your clit, your arms lifting to wrap around his back, pressing him as close to you as you can. He pulls back from your mouth, his lips parting in a groan as you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to take him deeper than he already is. It's all very sensual, the way he moves against you, his eyes locked on yours, the quiet grunts leaving his lips, the twitch of his cock inside you. 

It’s too much as you cum suddenly, your orgasm slamming into you like a battering ram. You squeeze around him, legs tightening around his hips. He lets out a low groan, his pace faltering a bit as you squeeze around him like a vice. It doesn't stop him, though, his thrusts continuing even after your body has gone lax around him. You continue to cling to him, holding on for dear life as he fucks you to the point of overstimulation. 

You whine, nails digging into his back as the sensations become too much, squirming in his grasp. 

“You can take it.” He grunts, shifting his hips just slightly. “Come on, be a good girl for me.” 

You whine at his words, your body shaking as sweat drips down your face. “Yes, daddy.” 

He lets out a deep growl, his hips slamming against yours at the pet name. You’re not quite sure where it came from, why you’ve decided now is the time to pull it from the recesses of your mind. You remember when he jokingly told you, you could call him that if you wanted before your last heat, but you had yet to be brave enough to let it slip from your lips. 

Until now. 

Maybe it was the desperation, the neediness driving you to sink to places you’ve never gone before. He likes it, you can tell by the growls rumbling in his chest, the way his cock throbbed inside you when you let the name spill out. Maybe once the ache in your pussy subsides, when this relentless itch has finally been scratched, you’ll be brave enough to say it again. 

He finally cums, hips snapping into yours as he spills into you with a deep groan. His hips twitch against you as you continue to hold him there, letting him fill you. 

He nearly collapses over you, just managing to keep his full weight off of you. His skin is hot against yours, only adding to the sweat slicking your bodies. You’re worried he might suction to you, though you could hardly complain. You’d suction yourself to your alpha permanently if you could. You stroke his sweaty back, both of you laying in silence as you catch your breaths, letting the pleasure of the moment linger as long as possible. Your pussy flutters around him, pushing some of his seed out around his cock. 

“Fuck.” He groans, his lips brushing your ear. “Making my cock hurt, sweetheart.”

You hum, drawing patterns on his back. “You don't have to do it, you know. I can always go to one of the others.”

He lets out a low growl, pressing down so his weight is almost fully against you, trapping you under him. “You're mine to take care of.” He rumbles in your ear, lips brushing the shell. 

You let out a quiet whine, relaxing under him as he presses soft kisses to your skin. A shiver running through you as he kisses his mark on your neck. You arch your back slightly, pressing closer to his chest. 

“Easy, pup.” He says, shifting off of you. You whine as his cock slips from your pussy, your walls fluttering at the loss. “You need to rest.”

You pout as he rolls you onto your side, locking his arms around you to keep you still. Your pout shifts into a smirk as you press your ass back against him, putting pressure on his cock. 

“Stop.” He commands, releasing you to slap the side of your thigh. 

You yelp at the contact, but a smile pulls at your lips. “Yes, daddy.”

A low growl rumbles in his chest as he wraps his arms around you again, keeping you pinned against his chest. “What prompted this change?” He growls in your ear. 

You shrug, your hands coming up to wrap around his arms. “Mood felt right, I guess.” 

“I’m certainly not complaining.” He says, nipping at your ear. 

You whine, pressing your ass back against him again. He pushes back, pressing your legs further forward. 

“You need to sleep.” He says, the warning in his tone clear as day. 

“Can’t.” You whine, slickness already coating your thighs again. 

He slips a hand down your front, pushing it between your legs to feel how wet you are still. “Did you tell Dr. Keller about this?” He asks. 

You nod, spreading your legs as he pushes two fingers into you. “Yeah.” 

“And what did she say?” He asks, holding his fingers still inside you. 

You pause for a moment, your hazy brain trying to remember that conversation, but all you can remember is how insanely horny you’ve been these last few days. “I don’t remember.” 

He grunts in disapproval, your legs closing around his hand, trapping him there. “I’ll ask her about it tomorrow.” He breathes, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “Get some rest, for me. I know you’re tired.” 

You let out a quiet whine at the growl under his voice, his alpha slipping out to try and convince you to sleep without commanding it. You know he could, he probably should, as you shift on his fingers, moaning softly as they press up against your sensitive walls. 

This is going to be a long night. 

He feels like this is becoming a regular occurrence, sitting across from Dr. Keller, voicing his concerns about his omega. She always looks so sympathetic and understanding, always so attentive, listening to every word. He never had any doubts about your doctor, but the more time he spends in her office, he can see why you like her so much. 

“Pseudo-heat.” She says, after listening to him ramble on about your intense desire and neediness, the insane level of horniness that’s plagued you these last few days, ever since your first time with Simon. “I had my concerns after our last appointment together. She brought it up, but she was so out of it, here but not here.” A smile tugs at her lips. “I’m not sure she heard a word I said.” 

“I don’t think she did.” John says, leaning back in his seat. “Is this dangerous?” 

Dr. Keller shakes her head. “Not entirely. They can happen for many reasons, usually a hormone imbalance, a disruption in pack dynamics, or a rejection of an alpha. Occasionally, though, they can be brought on by a new bond with a second alpha.” 

John grunts quietly, the pieces beginning to come together. “This started after she slept with Simon the first time.” 

Dr. Keller nods. Obviously you would have brought that up to her. “They both have very intense instincts, and while Lieutenant Riley might not have claimed her, that bond is equally as intense as it settles into place.” 

“Is there a way to stop the intense...neediness? I’m worried she might fuck herself to death.” 

Dr. Keller chuckles. “She won’t. She’s young and healthy and while it might take a physical toll, the rest of you are more likely to suffer before she does. This is where toys come in handy for omegas. I don’t doubt the rest of you are beginning to feel it.” 

John grunts. “You could say that.” 

“Keep her hydrated, try to get her to rest if you can. It’ll pass in a few days.” 

“Will this have an effect on her actual heat?” John asks. He knows you’re due for one very soon. 

“It shouldn’t.” Dr. Keller says, looking at her calendar. “The only thing I’d worry about is if she’ll have enough time to physically recover before it starts. Otherwise she’s going to be in for a world of hurt when she comes out the other side. Of course, I can help with that once she gets there. It’s very likely her preheat may cause this all to stop. I doubt she’d get thrown into her heat without her body doing any preparation. Just keep a close eye on her, watch her temperature and any other typical physical signs of her heat.” 

John nods. He knows how dangerous it would be if you suddenly went into heat. He’d never dream of hurting Simon on purpose, but the thought of losing his mind and attacking his second alpha over their omega has him terrified. 

“Simon?” You ask, rolling over in his bed as he picks up the towel from the floor. 

“Hm?” He hums, walking into the bathroom to hang the towel over the shower door. 

“Can I ask you something?” You continue as he comes back out of the bathroom with a damp rag, parting your legs to wipe you clean. You wince at the roughness of the rag on your sensitive skin.

“Depends.” He says, going back into the bathroom. You hear running water for a few seconds before he comes back out. 

“You don't have to answer if you don't want to.” You say, scooting over to give him room as he slides under the covers with you. “Just curious.”

“Go ahead.” He says, tucking his sheets around the two of you. 

“How did you learn to do that?” You ask, pressing yourself against his chest, your cheeks warming a bit. “Make a girl squirt?” 

He hums again, the sound vibrating against your ear. “One of the few relationships I've been in, back when I was a recruit. Dated a beta. She was into it and taught me how to do it.” 

“Why did you break up?” You ask, immediately regretting the question. You know how closed off he is, how tightly he keeps his past sealed. That you know as much as you do about him is a privilege.

“Mutual decision.” He says. “Got busy, started going on longer and longer deployments as I moved up the ranks. She didn't like me being away for so long at a time, so we moved on with our lives. Never really had time for another relationship or wanted one until I joined this pack. Even then, at first I wasn't interested.”

“But Johnny wormed his way into your heart.” You say. You've heard the story from Johnny before. 

Simon huffs out a laugh. “Persistent bastard.” He squeezes you tightly. “Almost worse than you.”

You giggle, squirming in his grasp as he tickles your sides. “Hey! I wasn't even trying!” 

He rolls over onto his back, shifting you onto his chest. “Still.” He says, cupping your face. “Managed to win me over in the end.”

“I'm glad I did.” You say, looking into his eyes. “I'm glad you finally gave in.”

He smirks under the mask, you can tell by the way his mouth moves beneath the fabric. “Me too.” He releases your face, letting you rest on his chest. “Don’t tell Johnny.” 

Your nails drag over the top of his muscular thighs, feeling the soft skin mingling with faded scars and wiry hair. Johnny stares at you over the edge of his sketchpad, his dark eyes watching your every move like a hawk. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, fighting to contain the eager grin that bares your teeth to him, showing your excitement at being face to face with his cock. Your nails dare to venture closer to his base, teasing the skin of his pelvis now as you lower your head to place a kiss on his weeping tip. 

Johnny’s breath hitches, his eyes falling shut at the initial contact. A shudder runs through him, his grip on the sketch pad tightening, fingers curling around the edges. 

“Thought you were supposed to be drawing.” You say, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

“Christ almighty...” He breathes, staring at you for a moment longer before turning his gaze to the sketchpad. 

You don’t move until you hear the scratch of his pencil on the paper, lowering your head as you hold his length in place. Johnny bites his lip, a strangled moan choking in his throat as your tongue trails a line from his sack, up the length of his shaft until you reach the sensitive head. You close your mouth around the tip, meeting his gaze as the sound of the pencil pauses. 

You pull away from him, meeting his gaze as he stares at you. A smile tugs at your lips, your hand holding his cock in place as he fights the urge to throw the sketch pad off the bed. He’s struggling to stay focused, fighting the urge to succumb to the pleasure of your touch. 

You don’t move until he looks back at the pad, the scratch of the pencil starting once more. You return your attention to his cock, flicking your tongue over his slit, tasting the salty precum pooling at the tip. Johnny’s nostrils flare as he exhales deeply, shaking his head just slightly as if he’s trying to shake off the distraction you’re proving to be. 

Your other hand moves to gently cup his balls, massaging and rolling the soft spheres in your hold. Johnny finally reacts, letting a breathless moan escape him in a moment of lost concentration, his hips bucking involuntarily. 

“Christ, bonnie,” He exhales. 

Your thighs clench together, still slick from when you sat on his face earlier, pussy still pulsing despite the three orgasms he gave you. Your arousal threatens to leave a damp spot on the bed, a lasting reminder of the events of this evening. 

You finally take him into your mouth, shifting just slightly as you sink down on his length. Another groan leaves his lips, the pencil stalling for a moment as you flatten your tongue against his shaft, taking as much as you can into your mouth. You fight the urge to gag around him, pulling back until just his tip is in your mouth. You swallow the build up of saliva in your mouth, tinted with the flavor of his precum. 

You continue your ministrations as he continues drawing, bobbing in a slow, steady rhythm as your free hand cups his balls. His legs clench around you, muscles flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing as he fights to keep control over himself. Drool pools at the edges of your lips, dribbling down his length and collecting at the hand still wrapped around his base. 

You take a breath through your nose before easing further down until his tip hits the back of your throat. You gag around him, tears reflexively rimming your waterline. Johnny's hips twitch as he fights the urge to buck up into you, knuckles going white around the edge of the sketchpad. 

You hold that position for a moment, breathing through your nose before relaxing your throat, taking him as far as you can. Johnny groans, peering over the edge of the sketchpad, meeting your gaze as your lips nearly press against the hand holding his base. He stares at you for a moment before going back to his sketch, pretending to pay you no mind as his legs relax around you. 

You accept the silent challenge, speeding up your movements as you bob on him, your tongue flicking the underside of his crown. Your hands leave his cock, settling on his thighs as you take him as deep as you can with each movement of your head, nails biting into the sensitive skin. 

“Fuck....” He groans, muscles tensing under you again, and you would have smiled had it not been for the cock currently stuffed in your mouth. 

Your lips are starting to sting from being stretched around his girth as you take him deep into your throat, gagging around him. He echoes with his own groan from the way your throat constricts around him. The hand holding the sketch pad is shaking slightly, his breaths quiet gasps as he tries to hold in his pleasure. 

You ease yourself back up his cock, your tongue tracing the tick vein on the underside of his shaft. You flick the tip of your tongue along the underside of his crown, nearly pulling a whine from his lips. The pathetic sound drives you to continue the motion, flicking your tongue back and forth as your hand shifts to stroke his length. His cock is raging red, twitching in your grasp as you drag your tongue along his weeping slit again. 

“Fuck...” He hisses, his hips twitching again. 

He’s not holding back anymore, needy moans falling from his lips, his pencil continuing to falter as you tease his head. His hips jerk, trying to push his cock against your face, smearing precum on your lips. 

“Gonna cum?” You ask, taking hold of his cock again as you lazily trailing your tongue over the veins lining the throbbing appendage. 

He groans, fingers nearly denting the sketch pad as he grips it for dear life. “Fuckin’...yes!” 

You take him into your mouth again, sinking down as far as you can, your nose nearly touching the hand holding his cock. He twitches in your mouth, his stomach flexing as you gag again, squeezing your eyes shut to fight the reflex. More drool drips onto his pelvis, soaking the dark hair that lines his cock. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He drops his pencil, his hand shooting to hold the back of your head as he cums in your mouth. You take what he gives you, swallowing around him as he twitches against your tongue. “Screamin’ Jesus.” He moans, tugging on your hair to lift you off his cock. “Gonnae kill me. Fuckin’ got my boabie aching.” 

You lick your lips, getting every last drop of precum and drool left. Johnny groans as he releases your hair, his hand reaching for his pencil where he’d dropped it off to his side. He’s not wrong in complaining about his cock hurting. Even you’re beginning to feel the last few days, the ache lingering longer and longer after every fuck, every orgasm. 

You crawl your way up Johnny’s body, flopping yourself on his chest. He grunts quietly as your weight falls rather ungracefully on him. You lay there, catching your breath, the salty tang of his cum on your tongue. He’s breathing heavily too, sweat slicking his skin where it’s pressed against yours. 

“Insatiable little kitten.” He grumbles, resting his sketchpad on your back as he returns to drawing. 

“Can't help it.” You murmur, your head resting on his shoulder. “Feel like I'm going insane.”

“Yer just releasin’ pent up energy.” Johnny says. 

You shift slightly against his chest, shocked he can have such coherent thoughts after an orgasm. “Huh?”

“You and Simon have been dancin’ around each other fer months now. Ye have a lot of pent up energy between you, and ye need to let it out. He's been just as insatiable.” Johnny explains. 

A frown pulls at your brows as you think it over. It makes sense, that the two of you would have a lot of pent up energy, paired with your heightened instincts, you just want to fuck each other senseless until that energy disperses. 

“Makes sense.” You murmur, nuzzling against Johnny's shoulder, relaxing in his soothing scent and the sound of the pencil on paper. 

He hums, the sound vibrating through you. He presses his nose into your hair for a moment, breathing you in. His lips brush your forehead, pressing soft kisses along your hairline. “So fuckin’ sweet.” He groans. “Fuckin’ love you.”

His words wipe all urge to sleep from your mind, suddenly wide awake. You tense just slightly, waiting for him to realize what he said, to change his mind and backtrack. 

You've said it, confessed your feelings to John and he had said it back with no hesitation, but had he only said it because you said it first? He hasn't said it since then, but neither have you. 

You take in a shaky breath, planting your hand against his chest to ground yourself. You'll never know until you ask. It's Johnny, you can trust him, ask him anything and trust he'll be honest with you. “You mean it?” the words are small, quiet on the off chance he won't hear and you can backtrack yourself. 

“Course.” He says, his lips brushing your forehead. “We all do. Hard not to love our sweet omega.” 

You hum quietly, shocked by the words. “Well, that’s good.” You say, swallowing the nervous lump forming in your throat. “Because I love you too.” 

He turns to look at you, a grin pulling at his lips. He sets his sketchpad against your back, wrapping his arms around you. He presses his lips to yours, tangling a hand in his hair again. The kiss leaves you breathless, so much emotion and passion poured into it. He licks into your mouth, stirring the warmth in your stomach again. 

He groans against your lips, feeling the slick of your thighs as you start to slip off his chest to his side. “Not again.” He whines, pulling away from your lips. 

“I’m fine.” You say, trying to force away the insatiable warmth in your stomach. “Can I see what you were drawing?” 

“‘Course.” He says, shifting the sketch pad to his right hand so you can see. 

It’s a drawing of you, eyes looking forward with his cock halfway into your mouth, lips spread around him. Your hand is holding his base, fingers delicately wrapped around the thick shaft. You lick your lips, suddenly finding it hard to stop the slick wetting your thighs again. 

���If you ever get tired of the military, you could be a professional artist.” You say, staring at the detail in the drawing that he managed despite the fact you were attempting to suck the soul out of him. 

He chuckles. “Yer not the first one to say that.” 

“‘M serious.” You say, as the exhaustion from the day starts to weigh heavy on your brain. 

“Thank ye.” He says, kissing your forehead. “Get some rest, kitten.” He says, moving the sketchpad back so it’s resting on your side as he goes back to drawing. 

You can't help it as your eyes begin to slip closed, lulled to sleep by his warmth and the sounds of him sketching. 

It's the first time in days you've woken up without your pussy throbbing in need. Your half asleep brain can't comprehend what it means as you press a hand between your legs, finding only the dried fluids from the night stuck to your thighs. You blink awareness back into your mind, laying there with your hand between your legs. 

Kyle groans behind you, his arm tight around your waist. “Not again.”

You're finally awake enough to digest what the dryness between your legs means and you push yourself up to sit. “I'm not horny.”

Kyle shifts slightly behind you, still half asleep. “Hmm?”

“I'm not horny.” You repeat yourself, withdrawing your hand from between your legs. 

Kyle pushes himself up to sit, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He slips his own hand between your legs, running his fingers over your folds. Despite how nice it feels, you don't feel the urge to grind against them, to take his wrist and hold his hand still as you fuck yourself on his fingers. 

“Damn.” He says, withdrawing his hand. “Looks like we finally fucked it out of you.” He leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Fucking glad, my cock is starting to hurt.”

You huff out a breath. “You old men and your sore cocks.”

“Hey!” He tries to grab for you, but you're faster, slipping out of arm's length as you grab your panties from the floor. “‘M not that old.”

“Well, you're certainly acting like it.” You say, sticking your tongue out at him. 

He jumps off the bed, wrapping his arms around you before you can reach the door, lifting you off your feet. His fingers dig into your sides, tickling you. You shriek out a laugh, wiggling to try and escape his relentless tickling. 

“Okay, okay!” You gasp out. “You’re not old.” 

“Thank you.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he sets you back on your feet. “We've spent way too much time fucking this week for you to call me old.” He delivers a slap to your ass before pulling away. 

He grabs clothes to change into and you steal one of his shirts, pulling it on before walking down to your room. You pause in front of your door, your eyes drawing to the gap between the door and the frame. Your heart rate picks up as you stand there, panic making your fingers shake. You closed it. You distinctly remember closing it, hearing it click before you slipped into Kyle's room. 

You peek around the hallway, trying to keep your breathing even. Johnny's door is open across the hall, but he's not inside. Kyle has gone to the bathroom, and both Simon’s and John's doors are closed. You have half a mind to run for John's office, or to knock on the doors, something. 

What if they're not in there, though? No one will hear you if something happens, or be able to get to you in time. 

But what is the likelihood of anyone managing to get in without anyone noticing, even if none of them are in the hallway? Kyle had just left and would have noticed. There would be a smell, a bad vibe, something. Simon would have noticed immediately if he’s left his room already. Johnny would have noticed. Someone would know. 

Your fingers shake as they wrap around the knob. You can scream. Scream and they'll make it in record time. For all you know, maybe you didn't close your door. Or maybe one of them had come looking for you and forgot to close it. 

Yeah. 

That's probably it. 

You take a deep breath in, closing your hand around the knob tightly before throwing the door open. You take half a step back in shock, your startled shriek reducing to a squeak in your throat as a familiar dark figure turns to you. 

“Simon!” You gasp, putting a hand on your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!” You look between him and your closet, and the many clothes draped over your bed and your desk chair, and even the bear. “What are you doing?” 

“Your closet is a mess.” He says, hanging the shirt in his hands. “You're living in a pigsty.”

You pout, looking around at your dirty clothes on the floor. “It's not a pigsty.”

He gives you a glance out of the corner of his eye as he hangs the shirt in your closet. 

You step into your room, calming the uneasy panic. It's just Simon who entered your room. Simon who felt the need to reorganize your clothes. “Simon?”  

He hums, hanging things back in your closet. 

“Where's my laundry basket?” You ask, noticing the empty space against the wall. 

“Started a load for you.” He says, grabbing more from the stack on your desk chair. 

You look over at your desk, your eyes scanning your books. “Did...did you reorganize my books too?” 

He nods. “Alphabetically by author's last name in each genre.” 

You nod slowly, turning away from your desk. “Right. How long have you been up?” 

Simon shrugs. “Couple hours.” 

“Uh huh.” You nod, moving to your dresser to dig out clean clothes for the day. 

Simon lets out a long breath as you dig for a shirt, drawing your gaze up to him. He shakes his head, eyes focused on your mess. 

“It's not that bad!” You say defensively, pushing the drawer closed. 

“How do you find anything?” He says, staring down at you disappointedly. 

“Like I just did. I know which shirt is which.” You say, crossing your arms. 

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he turns back to your closet. “Fucking hell.” 

You can’t hide your smile as you head for your bathroom, getting ready for the day. 

Your stomach starts to growl as you’re brushing your teeth, the hunger gnawing almost painfully. You frown, rubbing at your stomach as you rinse your mouth. You’d had a snack last night before creeping into Kyle’s room. Maybe the exertion of the last week is catching up to you. 

You exit the bathroom, finding your clothes put away in your closet and Simon missing with the dirty clothes on the floor. You’re not usually that messy, but with the last week having gone the way it did, cleaning was the last thing on your mind. You grab a pair of shoes before stepping out into the hallway, still rubbing your stomach. 

“Hungry?” John asks, coming down the hallway. 

You nod, your stomach growling again. “Yeah.” 

“Come on.” He puts a hand on your back, steering you out of the barracks. 

You’re still a bit on edge from your panic earlier, your body shifting towards John’s as you pass by groups of soldiers. He wraps an arm around you, keeping you glued to his side as you make your way into the mess. 

He makes your tray for you, plating up your favorites before carrying it to the table. You’re the first ones there, the other three still missing. You don’t care, digging into your tray immediately to try and ease the ache in your stomach. It’s like you’ve traded now, the ache in your pussy for the ache in your stomach. 

You're halfway done with your tray by the time the others take their seats, not even pausing shoveling food in your mouth to acknowledge their presence. 

“Slow down, love. Food’s not going anywhere.” Kyle says, patting your back gently. 

“Hungry.” Is all you say around bites of sausage. 

“How much of a workout did ye put her through last night?” Johnny asks Kyle. 

Kyle smirks, glancing down at you before looking at Johnny. “Apparently a good one.” 

The dig into their own trays, eating slowly as you continue to inhale your food until there’s nothing left. The scrape of your spoon against the tray has you pouting, your stomach still rumbling. You’re half tempted to lick the tray to get up every last bit of food off of it. 

“What?” Simon asks, looking at you as you pout. 

“Still hungry.” You say, pushing your empty tray away from you, resting your elbows on the table and your head in your hands. 

They all share a look, pausing in their own eating. You feel like crying, the gnawing in your stomach relentless and uncomfortable. 

“Love...” Kyle says, his tone hesitant, like he’s about to deliver horrible news. 

It will be horrible news. The pieces are beginning to come together now. Waking up not horny after nearly a week of being horny, the insatiable hunger, your pouty attitude. 

You lift your head from your hands, your arms dropping onto the table. You don’t look at them, already knowing what you’d see if you did. They’ve put it together faster than you have, your stomach swirling with emotions. You’ve lost track of time, not even thinking about how much time has passed, how the weeks have flown by. Dr. Keller had mentioned it briefly, but you had been in too much of a horny daze to really comprehend it. 

There’s a pit in your stomach, the panic from earlier starting to bubble up again, but this time for a different reason. You feel like crawling under the table and curling up in a ball, that, or stealing Johnny’s tray to finish off the eggs he’s not eating nearly fast enough. You take in a deep breath, trying to steady the sudden onslaught of overwhelming emotions

“Fuck.” 

NEXT ->

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