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soaps-mohawk · 11 months ago

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.

MASTERLIST | Next ->

“I don’t like this.”

“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.”

He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?”

“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.”

That doesn’t make him feel any better.

He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago.

He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink.

He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her.

“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting.

As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care.

He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long.

His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic.

Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not.

He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack.

Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week.

You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head.

You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath.

“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-”

“Classified?” You finish for her.

Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...”

The less there is to make you a target.

You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time.

What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.”

You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal.

That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military.

That, and the excuse for violence.

Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented.

In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you.

“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together.

“Tired.” You run a hand across your face.

“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.”

You look nervous.

He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly.

This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega.

His omega.

As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy.

“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand.

He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly.

He doesn’t even want to think about that.

Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy.

“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand.

You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed.

“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.”

You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side.

He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents.

“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say.

Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit.

Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about.

“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?”

Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.”

Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went.

“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.”

“What sort of hesitations?” He asks.

“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.”

Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right.

Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.”

“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega.

“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”

“That could be dangerous.” Price says.

“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.”

Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.

“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”

He hasn’t failed her yet.

Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked.

The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.

You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags.

Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment.

You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent.

You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk.

One more to go.

You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk.

This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity.

He’s going to be a problem.

You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible.

Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane.

“Coming, Si?”

Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared.

You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute.

Nothing that could dampen your natural scent.

You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack?

“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door.

Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly.

Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says.

You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no.

You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back.

“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.”

It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression.

Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?”

Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.”

Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it.

You can hold power over them.

The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to.

You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.

Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile.

Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell.

You’re beginning to see the dynamics already.

“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in.

All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha.

Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”

Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs.

“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?”

You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.”

“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer.

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

“You lived on base?” He asks.

You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.”

“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it.

It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say.

The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well.

“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.”

“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent.

You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.”

“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks.

You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.”

“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks.

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.”

“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks.

Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance.

“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.

“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.”

You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.”

Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails.

Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze.

He’s going to be a problem.

“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.”

You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either.

“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.”

You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting.

“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach.

His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell?

What if they don’t like the way you smell?

“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you.

You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier.

“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.”

All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible.

“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully.

Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen.

He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack.

You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs.

“Ready?”

You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin.

He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland.

His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others.

“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you.

You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours.

He’s testing you.

You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl.

He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting.

Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached.

You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place.

“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?”

You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head.

“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.”

His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland.

You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you.

“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze.

“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this.

“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”

He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him.

You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat.

You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper.

“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek.

You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze.

You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them.

They could if they wanted to.

It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you.

“You hungry, pup?”

Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work.

Pup. Price called you Pup.

You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you.

The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment.

“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again.

You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.”

“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.”

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out.

“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear.

His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes.

Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear.

The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing.

He’s proving his ability as a provider.

In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can.

You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you.

He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks.

A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost.

Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult.

NEXT ->

I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #a/b/o

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pshbites · 5 months ago

Text

LOVE ON AiR

SYNOPSiS » two podcast groups, both equally popular on the internet, start interacting with one another. however it isnt how fans want it to be.. OR yn sees sunghoon hating on lauryn hill and accidentally starts an entire fanwar with him.

PAiRiNG » sunghoon x fem!reader

FEAUTRiNG » all of enha, giselle of aespa, txt briefly mentioned

GENRE » smau (social media au), fluff, angst, enemies to lovers (barely), chronically online humor, romance, podcast au, influencer au, HEAVILY inspired from suburb talks and under the influence podcasts, SLOWBURNN

WARNiNGS » profanity, suggestive humor, kys/kms jokes, lots of pop culture references (im chronically online im sorry), drinking, drugs, fanwars, yn haters (BOOOOO), stalking (sorta?) manipulation (NOT FROM SUNGHOON OR Y/N) changes every chapter.

STATUS » completed — (08/03/24) to (10/26/24)

PLAYLiST » your eyes only - enha, after midnight - chappell roan, ex factor - lauryn hill, kiss me - dpr live, read your mind - sabrina carpenter, 3005 - childish gambino, poison poison - renee rapp, thirst - dpr live, just a little bit - enha, daisy - wave to earth, nouvelle vague - wave to earth, thinkin about you - frank ocean. (got carried away .. 😁)

AUTHORS NOTE » BIGGG thanks to my bestest friend ever, my fav british person, @lqfiles , ily so so much and thank you so much for helping me with this process. teaching me how to work tumblr like i was a grandma even tho im only 2 years older than u and making this AMAZING cover (isnt she talented), i love u sooo much more than words can describe, you annoying brit (endearing) 🫶

TAGLIST CLOSED!

written chaps in blue

🔴 RECORDING..

teaser (read first for context!!)

profiles i & profiles ii

1) call my phone a vibrator the way it keeps buzzing

2) YAP CENTRAL EP.135: alpha male podcasts?!

3) first hate thread. feeling nervous

4) pussy slay queen!

5) okay alpha

6) ROUND TABLE EP.149: perfect pitch :o

7) 1 down 3 to go

8) what the fuck is a ynhoon

9) YNXOXO VLOG: night out w/ won and riki

10) wet and bothered

11) just a normal tuesday

12) jungwons evil arc

13) YNXOXO VLOG: cafe date with my girls <3

14) the battle of thirst traps

15) twitch streaming era

16) YAP CENTRAL EP.136: did social media ruin relationships?

17) second interaction: kinda scared

18) fuck skater boys

19) park sunghoon v. round table

20) riki emo era: OVER

21) sunghoons side hoes

22) ROUND TABLE EP.150: we traded phones?!

23) bro define: friend

24) spidey sense

25) on my cellular plan i pay for?

26) YNXOXO VLOG: night time routine + surprise!!

27) a face i would kiss

28) collab of the century

29) YAP CENTRAL EP.137: has love lost its meaning?

30) eyes don’t lie

31) operation: ynhoon (postponed)

32) crybaby

33) operation: ynhoon (BACK ON)

34) chat is this a date yes or no?

35) boss baby jay

36) boyfriend

37) soft or hard?

38) what da heck *tyla voice*

39) YNXOXO VLOG: ice skating! | vlog w/ a special guest!!

40) love is on air

UNCUTS

1) operation: get riki ip banned on twt

2) try not to blow up challenge: FAILED

3) JAYS KITCHEN: my friends trying to help me make food blindfolded. (spoiler: it’s a fail)

4) YNXOXO VLOG: my boyfriend does my makeup voiceover !

5) YAP CENTRAL BLOOPERS: riki kat and yn patreon ad

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cypherscript · 7 months ago

Text

Linchpin

The GIW have finally done it; they finally rid the world of the strongest ghost in their recorded history and the world finally know peace from ghost kind.

Watchtower - Four years three months later.

"Right," Tim Drake-Wayne aka Red Robin stood before a small council of Batman, Wonder Woman, Booster Gold, Martian Manhunter and the Flash, "Thank you, everyone for allowing me to request this meeting but it's imperative that this matter be seen to before something irreversible comes to pass."

"Red Robin, wandering."

"Right, sorry." Tim taps away on the computer and pulls up several of his personal photos from his day off last month of the night sky with two bright pinpoints of lights. "This is the night sky with Alpha Centauri a month ago. I was on vacation and managed to get some good pictures for that night but something else happened that night." He pulls up another photo of the same night sky but one of the stars were gone.

"Where'd the left star go," Flash asks as he pulls over a digital copy of the two pictures.

"I don't know but it's still not there. A month ago Proxima Centauri went out and no one's saying anything about it online. I was hoping to petition the Justice League to borrow the Watchtower's computer and telescope to check the area."

"I don't see why that would be an issue," Wonder Woman says as she also looks over the pictures with the flash. "Batman?"

"I don't have a problem with it but it needed someone not connected to the issue to vote on it." With that said they voted to let Tim borrow the computer's telescope and began scanning the area. Several hours later they had a really clear picture of the area Proxima Centauri had been. In its spot there was nothing; no gas, no planets, no nebulas or anything but darkness.

"We should probably get Green Lantern or one of the space heroes." Batman's Hn spoke leagues to his current mood.

_____________________________________________________________

"So your little bird was right, Bats. Proxima's gone and it's not the only one. The Guardian's have been receiving distress calls for several universal cycles. Tamaran, Corona Seven, Betelgeuse, Alpha Corvi to name some." Hal says as he reads from a list projected from his ring, "They've traced a Decay Field originating from Earth over four years ago. Supposedly failed supervillain attack? Experimentation gone wrong?"

"We're unsure. We've talked with the United Nations and no one's come forward with anything concrete. We do have a list the length of the Batmobile of possible culprits though."

"Sorry but what's a Decay Field? I can hear those capital letters and don't just say it's a field that decays stuff." Flash asks, looking up from his portion of experiments.

"But it is... The Guardian's explained it like a kill switch to certain technologies. Something happened on Earth four years that made the universe start eating itself."

"Then why not start with our sun? Why start at a star 4 light years away," Batman asks, putting down the League's digitized stellar map, "If the field originated on Earth, Sol should have been the first to vanish."

"Strange isn't it?"

A burst of static comes from the speakers at the table, causing a couple to flinch before a corrupted male voice speaks to them.

Ņ̵͙͔̼̓̏̕̚o̸̢̳̮̖̩̪͉͒̊̓̐t̸͙͓̻̙͗̌͆́̈ ̸̢̖̪̫̪͙̉̆ͅǎ̸̦͔̜͂͗͛͘͠t̸͇̏̂̉̆ ̵̹̖̣͎̘̟̞͒͆a̴̛̟͗́͂̿͜ḻ̸̑́̀l̵̢̗̻̙̜̄͆.̶̢̨̤̞̖͕̾̏͌̽̽ ̷̛̩̘͍̺͚͈̐̔́̾͊̚W̸̨̳̟͍͓̱̊͗̿̓͜e̸̛̛̹̒͜ ̵̞̻̌̓͆̂̕w̷͉͐́e̴̼̗͑̐̈̑̆͝r̴̫̻͇͖̞͂è̶̯̺͙̬̲ ̶̢̣̣̥͐̓̓w̶͇̺̯̝̲̌̚o̸̡̢̗͖̤̮͑̇n̵͇̣͙̫̹̄͌̽d̴̺̼͕̙̐́̂̈e̴̢̧̮̣͍̯̽͝r̵̼͙̩͛͆͝i̷̝̱͎̞͑̏̀n̵̯̰̻̹̭͕̫̈́͛́̌͘g̵̨̛̻̯̺̠͈̜̅͂̌͘͠͝ ̸̺͉͍̹̱͕̈́̅̀̾̈́͘ẅ̷̨̝͔̖͉̜̭͘̕h̴͚̘͕͊̄ȩ̷̢̱̱̤̫̗̈͘n̸̼̦̭̹͆̏͘ ̷̰̫̳͊͌̋̇͂̍̕͜ẙ̷̭͙̘̅̋́̚ó̶͔̪̥̩̭͎̺͋͑́́̒ũ̶͙̝̬͖̯̏̎͠ ̴̢͈͎̤̜̲͛̈̓̀̒̍̕ͅp̸̨͈̱̥̙̗̠̊̋̀e̶͚͊̈́͐̀̋͠ơ̵̧̧͍̥̮p̴͈̘̺̙̫͈̀͆́l̵̝̻̼̳̋ͅͅḙ̵̮͍̻̺̀̑͛́͑̕ ̸̮̥̀̉̈́͑͊͐͂w̵̲̥̅̎̋̓ȏ̴͚̰̩̐̓̎̿̍̀ͅȗ̵̙͓̂͝l̶̟̪͐͗͂̂d̵͎̦̈́̌̀͌ ̵̧̗̲̈́́̔f̵̨͙̪̌̌̀͜͠i̷̳͛̉̊̆̈̓̒n̶̮̗̤͋̾̂̂͘a̶̤̫̘͚͌̓̒̊l̴̟̰̼͉͖̉̎̓͒͆̅͜l̶̢̹̾̉̒̊̕y̴̡̙̞͒̒̏̉ ̷̧͙̺̯̼̉ǹ̷̯̲́̉̈̚o̸͓̠̖͌̋͒͛ṭ̵̟̥͕͉̀̔ȋ̴̢͉͎̃͆̈́̈́̈́͠c̵̰̰͎̭̯͑̆͌͗͝ȅ̷̖̫̃̐̈͝ ̵͎̣̖̄̃͋̌̂̌̊w̴̹̦̙̜̙͉̰̓̈́̚h̸͇̣̩̝͇͊̃͑͆̂͝ä̵͚̭̪̖̀͗͑̄͘t̶̛̟̳̣͔͍̿̓͆͘͠ ̷̨̠̪͔͎̐̇͌ẁ̷̢͖͓̹͛̈a̷̭͚̭̳̙͇̽́̉̽̐͘s̷̨̲̖͌̆̊̋̐̈́ͅ ̵̻̻̯͍̤̊̂͝͝ĝ̴̨̢̰̙̞̲̂̽̈o̴̪̥̙̽̅͗̓í̷͈̯̾́̋̾̊n̸̳̘͍͒̋̏͆̀̐͜ͅg̸̻̿͗̐̊̍̚͝ ̶̤̰̹̭͙̬͙̇̀ṏ̴̘̮̱̦͍́͂̑̚͜͝ņ̵̼͊.̴̡̜͔͍͇͍̃̐

(Not at all. We were wondering when you people would finally notic what was going on.)

"Who are you," Batman demands as the voice chuckles, "Is this your doing?"

Ņ̷͙̹̱͕̀͐̄́͜ớ̷̩̠̻̅̉̈́̎̀ͅ.̷̮̲̰̩͆͗͂̆́̒̚

(no)

"But you know about it, what's doing this and how do we stop it?"

I̷̢̬͉̖͗̒̀̈ ̷̟͎̯̺̺͕̅̆͆̌̐̔́d̷͙͔̜̿ȏ̶̡͓̩͝ņ̴̜̤̟̳́͑̂̚͠͝͠'̵̝̜̉̆́t̷̛̯͌̓̎̎ ̴̞́̈̍ţ̴̢͓͙́ḧ̸̲͛̿͗̍i̶̧̯̱̠̩̥̭͛̉̊̌̈̒͝n̷͖̯̩̺͛͂̊̑͐͠ķ̶̧̙̖̐͐̀̄ ̷̛̦̲̎̋̑y̷̧̯̝̝̦̌̒͌͂o̴̧̹̲͉̟̝̱̊̏u̵̱̣̘̳͖̇͗͆͐ͅ ̷͙͇̝̳͒̎̑̓͜͝ͅͅc̵̫̼̠̮͕̠̃ą̸̣͇̩̬̟͌̋͠n̵̛̬̟̼͈̪͓̲̆̀̔̋̈́̕.̸̢̝̳̜̥̗̾́.̸̢̪͔̹͈̂̈̆͛̇́̔.̸͓̯͓̞̃̉̃ ̸̢͉͉̳̬͙̗͗͂͌̄̏T̵͚̩̙̽̈́͛͌́̀h̶̘̲̙̪̗̾i̵̭͕̙̟̒̔͝ͅș̵͗̈́̚͝ ̶̥̲̹̜̖̼̯̉̍į̶͓̥̀̍̓s̸̢̡͓̬̰̹̋̿̿̃́̽͜ ̵̀̈̇́͐̚ͅp̸̡̨͎͇̦̌̍͜ṳ̸̫̖̘̑͋͂̕̕͝n̵͔͔͇̺͚̪͋͂ͅĩ̸̢̛̥̬̮̙̈́́̔s̸̩̝̝̓̀̈́ḧ̸̫͇́̓̄́̕ṃ̸̨̐̄̾̌͂͝ẽ̴͓̈́n̵̮̥̯͑͛͂̀́͝ţ̷̨̟̖͚̹̺͗̋͑͌̄.̷̭̐̈̕

(I don't think you can, this is punishment.)

"Punishment for what?! We didn't do anything," Flash shouts as he stands up to yell at the voice.

Ỳ̸͕̖̼͐o̵̘̻̩̹̽̀̍͑͗̊̓ú̴̢͇̮̯͍̑̚ ̷̢̢͖̹̍͗͜ḏ̵̨̹͔͆̈́̀̀̑͆͜i̶̲̯̯̱͍͐̆̉͛͋͐ͅd̶͈͇̤̙̃̃͑͌̅̓͆n̷͓̳̅̄'̶͙͓͉̣̝͓͌̽͘t̵̡̝̘͔̮̹͔̊̈́͋͂́̾,̷̧͔̲͕̙̋̚ ̶̳̙͉̩̄̐̄͌b̷̻̮̟̩͑̿̕ű̶̩̩͚t̷̛͎̤̠̪̮́̒͜ͅ ̵̠͓̩̤̋̇̂͆̕ͅc̶̘̹͒ị̵̢̟̩̄́͐̒͝t̶̠̥͙̗͎̺̘́͗̄͂̅̚ḯ̸̡̞̳̝̰͆̒̀͂̑̎z̴̯͉̾̑̈́͝͝ę̵̻̼̟̗̌̎͝͝n̴̘̓̈́̎̊͌͛s̷̝̭͔͈͗̂͐̇ ̵̱̇͑̆̋̓͜͝͠ő̶̥̝̠̞̇͆̊̀͌͗͜f̸͈̖͆̀̑̈̇̄̓ ̷̨͇̦͕̺̩̃̓̇̇͐̀t̴̬̬͇͔͛̃̊̿̀̏́h̷̯̠͒̒͋̆̂̅͠é̶̡ ̸̰̘͈̹̳̈́Ẽ̸̢̟̥̺͈̙̓̈̄͘͠͝a̶̛͎̥̦͙͆̑͋̿͝͠ͅr̶̺̟̱̈́̀ţ̵̝̩̬͍̉̔͊́̕͠h̶̥̠̣̹̰̻̖͆͂̉͌͠ ̶̳̣̠͚̮̌͆̋̅͂̈́ḧ̶͖͉̟̮̜̻̖́̊ã̸̲̦̗̜̌̿͌́̑̚v̵̯͚̲̯̖͋̽͝ͅȩ̴̛͕̯̖̈́͌ͅ.̸̩͚̽

(You didn't but the citizens of the Earth have.)

"What did they do to warrant starting a Decay Field to eat the universe?!" The next words spoken was a combination of several voices.

T̷̝̹̥̘̯̠̓̑̽ͅh̶̺͓͕̝̍͗̐̃̄̚ȇ̶̜͉͈̦̮̓͝͠y̵͔̗̫͎͙͚͠ ̷̟̓̃͂ķ̷̦̳͎̓̃͛͌̒͝ͅi̴̫̪̮̰̭̠̘̊͑͛́̐l̴̖̲̙̀̿l̵̹̦̪͐̌̎͆ę̷̨̙͇̮͇̊ḋ̵͉͙͖̦̪̰̒͝ ̴̮̜̥̟͚͇͊̀ḿ̵̱̼̮̠̪̘̓̃̀̐͐͝ŷ̸̖̞̤͐̄͛͆ ̸͎̯̠̰̆͋̓̌̂͌͛b̶̢̜̙͎͌̓̐e̸̛̥̳͒̋̽́́s̴̨̙͑́͑̒͐̐t̷͙͌̀̄͝ ̵̰͑̓͜f̷̛̦̭̀́̅̌r̷̖̹̫͕̬̩̔į̴͎͖̯̜̲̥͒̀͊̓̆͒͘ẻ̵̬͈͊͝n̶̤̼̥͚̱͉̔͗̂͝d̶̯̼̋̏̂̈̿͝ͅ.̴̻̭̣̭̪̣̖̒̐̒̄͝ (They killed my best friend.)

T̶̰̗́̋̓͝h̶̞͔̠̪͖͎̝́ě̴͇̭̻̗̣̉̔y̴̛̝̼͎͇̼͌̽̏̚ ̴̢̛̞͕͓̜̻̑͋̍́k̷̲̃̓̊̊́̽ǐ̷̡̟͔̜͈̃ḽ̶̢̭̠͕͒̈́͊́̈́l̵̠͎̎̋̄͘ȅ̷͖̪͖͒̈́d̴̩͖̳̜̯̹̋͑ ̷̜̜̯̬̤͂̑̀̍͋͒̆m̴̙͕̹̩̞͐̌̅̾y̷̡̱͉̠̗͇̏̓̉ͅ ̴̨̖͇̠͜͝p̷̺̯̖̹͚͎͛̋͌ȃ̵̧̪̼̫͈̺̞̾͋̓͛r̶͇̺̫͂̍̑̕t̵̟̦̞̞͍̀̒̉́̋̓n̸͎̻̻̒ȇ̵̢̪̣̤̫͐͜r̸̡̯̪͖̻̃̉̓͘̕͝.̸̹̖̜̈́̃̎̓ (They killed my partner.)

T̴̗̻̫̼̙͛̐̿̈́͂̈̐̎̔̆̀͑͐͠͝ͅh̸̘̞̫̺̗̹͆̽͒̅ȩ̴̡͕̄ÿ̵̢̳̺̗̲̠̩̹̟͈̞̘́͊̓̀́̏̒͑̐̿̊ ̸̼̞͖̻̰̤͚́k̴̛͚̬̹͚͒̐͊̍̉́́̚͝͠ͅͅi̵̘͈̿̌̋̂̈͌̋̐͑̕͝l̵̘̊̒̄́̈́͂̒̍́̿͗̐̉͝͝l̴̬͔͎̍̓͋̉̐̀͂̕͘͠͝e̷̙̭̪̝̭̜̻̠̓͋͑̔̓̈́̋̈͒̒̉̔̏̚͝d̸͕̫̼͉̫͓̜̩̪̺̫͈͋͝ͅ ̸̧̧̼̙̰̮͓̖̑̈́͋͌̅̃̑́̍͛̂͠t̶̡͎̼̖̳̼̣͚͓̝̘͉̊̍̈́͛͆́̾̀͊̃̚͝ḧ̸̨̛̺̹̭̖̠̞́͛̀e̸̡͚̤̮̼̳̽͗͛̾̀̆͂͑̀͛͜͝ ̸̛̪̝̺͓͇̜̀́̿̄̏̕̚w̸͉͕͐̾̋̏͒̂͒̓̚ḩ̴̠̹͇̘͔͚̖̘̻̈́̿̄͆̓̑͑̚͝͠͠͝ę̶̛͔̲̰̖̗̈͋̾͑̂́̅̈͑͆́̀̓͝l̶̨͇͇͉͖͂̃̈̂p̷̛͇̭̺̲̠͕̝̹͍̙̓̍̈́̾̆́̋̐̀̿̓̂̉ (they killed the whelp)

Ţ̵̇̍͐͝ḥ̶̢͎̇ͅě̶̢̨̇̉̎̉ÿ̶̹͔̼́̅͌͑̚ ̸̖̤͛̿̎̍̂̍ͅk̴͓̞̼̙̰̼̅̑͌̍̄i̷͓̣͎͑͂̌̽̈́̾͝l̸̮͖̖̲͑͑͋̐l̸̛̛͇̹̙̳̟͌̽̃̌è̴͇̒͗͐͂d̷̮͈̋̚ͅ ̴͉͈̞͙̙͇̈́̋͂̚ȯ̶͚͓͋̍̍ǔ̴̢͎̹͕̀͆̇̒̂r̶̮̖̱͂̉̽̔ ̵̤͙̺̒́͌̿̈͠s̷̛͔̣̹̱̼͆͐o̸͕͖̘̬̭͒͑̾̆̓̇n̸̡͖̙̗̩̆̀͌̃.̵̬͗́͊̀̂̓̕��͎̞̬(they killed our son.)

T̷͖͇̱̜̺̳͠ͅh̷̥͍̼̼̥̊ͅę̶̨̺͇͖̹̒͒ỹ̸̟̟̜̗̘̠̓̓̑̑̄͜ ̷̗̲́͊͋̅ͅk̸̻̤͉̝̽͊̃̉̄͒̃i̴͔͙̰̮̐ͅl̸̤̥̭̊̾͘l̶̢̠̹̩͉̦̏͒͘e̷̢͕̠̥̜̘͓̿̈́̏̅͝d̷̪̭͕̓̐͛̿̈̚ͅ ̶̙̱̩̠̄̎̈́́͘̕m̵̪̫͉̲͑͑ͅy̸̢̬̹̞̳͗̃͌̔̔ ̶̢̼͖̼͕̋̎͛͝͠k̶̞̱̘̲̺͔̔̏̇̍̕ǐ̶̜̟͆̍ṋ̶͈͓̱͌͛̑̂͐̇g̸̩͕̻̃̍̔̃̏̚.̵͙̖͐͠ (They killed my king)

T̶͙͍̤̼͕̎͌͜h̴̩̬̞̕̕͜e̷̫͔̟̔͐͒ͅÿ̴̢̢̻̯̩̱́́̇̄͗̑͠ ̸̧̤̪͈̗͈̼̉̓͋̐k̸̢̟̲͝í̵̢̩ͅl̸͈͒̄͋͝͝l̴̡͍̥̱̙̫̣̄̈́͌e̸̛͔̾̒͛̂̉d̴̪̀̓͜ ̴̧̭͚̥͛͗t̶̨͙̬̥͉̼̎͋̍͜h̶͙̲̟̆ḙ̶͕̿ ̶̧̬͒̍͠͝Ḡ̴̨̓ṛ̶͙̺̘̭̮͍̏̒͗͋̇͝e̶̖̙̥͛̄͆̾͋̐̚a̷͚̙̠̙̠͝ͅt̵̰̥̺̹̂̓ ̸̞́̈́Ó̶̞̳̈́̃͋̇́n̴͙̘̤͉͆̆͗̇̈͆̋e̷̛̹͂͝.̵̝̲̣̅(they killed the Great One)

I̵̜͎͎̘͍͒̈̑̄̔͝l̴̝͔̙̞̓͋̅i̶̖͉̠͎͍̽̒ ̸͇̰̝͙̮̩͒̓̒̆̊̚m̷̨̨̘͔̀͊͌̆̈͐̐͜ơ̷̢̺͉͓̤͍̺̒͝r̵̨̧̰͎̓̎̽͒͛t̸̤̲̙̄͐́̈́̕̕͜į̶̧̭̙̗͙͙̊̉̍͛̿̋g̵̜̺̘̙̼͇̃i̵͈̅̀̅s̵̞̯̯̩͖͖̎ ̴̡̤̞̇̾̆̈̓͝m̵̺͈̺̻̫̰̋̽͐̍͛̕͜ȉ̴̮̙̳̄͛ą̵͕̭̲̱͈̒ǹ̸̨̛̫̺̯̥̗́͜͝ ̵̨̳̝͓̼͆͂͂͛̍͘s̴̡̢̟̘̝̠̘̃̏͑̑̎͠à̶̧̛͖̦v̷͚̇̈́́̏͝â̴̢͓̚n̶̢̗͓̘͖̹͂̂̚ṱ̶̒̂̈̃͆ŏ̸̬̥̎̕ń̵̨̛͇̲̫̦̮̎̾̔̀ (ili mortigis mian savanton/killed my savior)

T̸̢̨͍̲̝̣͎͈̖͓͇͈̘͓̐̉̏̉͊̍̈́̋̕h̸̢̨̙͇̳̜͖̎̇͛̈́͜ḛ̶̡̻͕̝̫̣͇̉̅y̷̢͖̤̫̔̎̌ ̵͎͍̭̟̗̼̹̪̠͉̲̍͆̓́͜k̴̢̗̺̘̳̰͎̲͇̃̌͆͂̀̔̾͛͂̉͘͝͝i̶̟̹̳̱̤͚͖͖̫̲̓̾̄̅̆̎͂̕l̴̨̡̡̲̥͓̠̰̼̥̂͑̀͝ḻ̷̡͕̩̫̾͐́͑̓̃́͒̈́͆̿̓͌̚͘ͅȩ̶̡̣̮̯̳͓̼̓̉̽̄̍́̔̓̆̎̀ď̷͈̬̱̂ ̶͖̺̝͉̜͇̅͐̓̆͗̿̋̿̀̍͝b̵̧̮͆̂̄̒̐̿͋͌̆̍̓̈́͘͝ä̴̡̛͔̫̉͆̍̔̄́̈́͝b̸̮͙͛̃͛̀̃̍̓y̵̱͑̈́̽̇̄̓̔̌̚͝͠p̶͈̮̣̠̮͖͇̠̫̫̦̝̩̉̐̂̈́̐͐ǫ̵̯͙͓͚͍̂̊͊̉̾̌̂́͠͝p̷͙̯̪͔̙̗̞̘͙̅̄̒͒̍͛͋̈͋̕(they killed babypop)

T̴̯̮̝͙͕̐̍h̸̡̢̋͌͊ȅ̴̟̼̀̈́̄̀͌͠ý̸̨̯̩͐̎͒͒̒̕ͅ ̶̡͈̝͎̞͗̊͘k̸̭͇͙̬̫̙͊̎͆̓͝͝ͅi̶̦̝̳̪͂̅̈́̑l̷̛͈̭̺̄́̔̈́͋́l̶͙̳̯̩̈́͐e̴͇̰̭͙̙̿͜d̴̛͉͚͍̋͂̀̔̉ ̶̤̞͙͕̃̓͒͐m̴͈̹̟̃y̵̠̜̏̽̐̀́̀͝ ̶̢̥͉̊̊̊͐͝f̶͎̥͉́́ḁ̸̩̤̱̲̬̒̕͘ṯ̷̯̬̘̮͙̚ḩ̸̖͍͌̀̓̃͘ẻ̵̢͎̓͝r̸̨̩̗̘̗̒̈̆̓͂͘̕.̶̥̀͐̓̉(They killed my father)

Ţ̷̠̘̦̍̏̆̍̀͊̚ẖ̷̼̪̝͇̪̥͑e̸̢̨̻͚̬̯̭̊͗̀͝y̵̪͛̾̅́̓̕ ̶̤͕͆̑̓͐k̵̖͎͍̬͙͒̍i̴̛͙̬͚̫̻͑̆͆͂l̵̨͒̂͑l̷̛͖̫̫̳̭̱̀̀ę̴͈͕͖̜͎̋̆͒̓͘̚d̸̢̼͙̬͐͋̎̉͝ ̵̲̥͋̃̆͂͗͝m̷̞̭̖͚̭̣̑͛͗y̶̛̜͎͆̂͑̑ ̸̩̤̫̹́̾̈͂̏ḇ̷̞̱̣̂̋̚̚r̵̛̻̙̯̯̆̋̽̈́̚͝ô̷̱̍̈́t̶̡̙͈̘̹̫͆͒̽͐̏h̴̥̝́͊̅͌̓̔̒͜è̶͙̰̱́̅̾̉̽͂r̴͍͗̍͂̾̂̆.̷̺̖̥̖̹̾̓́̔ (They killed my brother)

Ṱ̵̻̤̩̰͛͆͑͒̍ͅh̸̜̼̅̀̏͒̄͐ĕ̵̲͚͕̓ͅy̷̻̣̭̰͎͊͂̇͛͗ͅ ̴̜̘̣̙͑̄k̵̭̝̹͛͒̽͘ȉ̵̫ļ̴̡͇̺͈̞͐͂̅͑ͅl̶̫̈́̃͊̏ę̶̛͖̪̺̤̌̓d̸̛̤̱͂ ̴̞͇̫̘͊m̴̛͖̩̲͊̏̈́̓͑̆ÿ̵͔͎́́ ̴͎͎͎͕̳͖̭͊͒͋̒͑̿s̷̬̹̔̒̾̉̿́̕͜t̵̹̋ụ̸̩̂̆̓d̷̢̧̪̞̦̻̓́̋̐̇̂e̷̡̢̯̤̜̞͈͛̑̎̿͝ń̵̙ẗ̵̨̛͔̯́.̷̨̟̰̩̲͆̉̚ (They killed my student)

"Stop! Stop!" Flash shouts over the voices, "We can't understand what you're saying! Who is 'They'?!"

The voices stop and the clearest voice they've heard yet speaks.

T̵͔̊h̸̲͑e̴̘͋ ̴̻̋G̴͚̈́h̸̩͌o̵̮̍s̷͍̽t̶̬͛ ̸͍̒Ȉ̵͚n̸͙̑v̴͙̽e̸̞̓s̴̞͘t̷̠̓ĩ̵͎g̷͖͘a̷̭͒ť̵͓i̵̟̇o̶̞̕n̵̨͠ ̸͓̂W̵̱͂a̵̺͝ŕ̷̥d̶͇͒

#dc x dp #dp x dc #space ancient danny #ghost king danny #batman #the flash #wonder woman #green lantern #tucker foley #I translated the zalgo text #sorry #giw fucked around and found out

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hawkinsbnbg · 8 months ago

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Steve had long accepted that Carol always came up with the best or the worst idea. There was no in between. But this time, he might have to thank her for telling him about Eddie Munson's talented mouth.

ao3

One night, when they were drunk and feeling funny, Carol had dared Steve to walk up to The Freak and demand the alpha eat him out.

“What’s the reward?” Steve had squinted at her.

“A mind-blowing orgasm,” Carol had wiggled her brows. “I heard Munson is really good with his mouth.”

Steve had snorted and that was the end of the topic.

He knew Carol hadn't meant it and had probably forgotten about the whole thing came the morning.

But every time he ran into Eddie at the school, his eyes would always linger a bit too long on those plump lips.

Carol’s words kept circling in his head like a broken record.

Munson is really good with his mouth.

Steve should’ve known better than to give in to his curiosity (and desire), but by the time he stood in Eddie’s bedroom, blushing and trying to not fumble around like an idiot, it had been too late to back out.

He had suggested the school’s bathroom stall at first, but the alpha just shook his head with a lopsided smile, “Princesses like you deserve to be taken to a bed.”

It was supposed to be mocking, but the way Eddie scrambled up to follow after him like a dog with a bone told Steve everything he needed to know.

So now, with Eddie’s head burying between his legs and hot tongue lapping at his cunt, Steve decided that Carol was right for once.

That mouth was really talented.

Steve had his fingers tangled in the mass of dark curls, thighs trembling and eyes rolling back as Eddie pinned him down and drank all of his slick from the very source.

“Eddie,” he mewled, seeing stars when the alpha licked at his sweet spot.

And then, his stomach tightened, the pulsating heat coursed through him and before he knew it, the blinding pleasure crashed over him like a bull.

It was his most intense orgasm and he was still shaking when Eddie pulled away, eyes dark and heavy with want.

“Again?” The alpha asked, hand stroking his hipbone slowly, temptingly.

Steve should’ve turned down the offer, told Eddie it was just a one-time thing, put on his briefs and slacks and gone on his way.

But Steve did none of that. He just nodded and spread his legs wider, “Please.”

It was all Eddie needed to kiss him on the forehead, “So polite. Such a good boy, aren't you?”

Steve let out a chirp but before he could feel embarrassed about it, Eddie kissed him again. This time, it was on his lips.

“Gonna treat you right, sweetheart.”

And Steve was helplessly charmed.

In hindsight, he should’ve seen it coming a mile away with how eager Eddie had been at his audacious request.

Because after three orgasms being wrung out of him, Eddie just kept going, sucking and licking and fucking Steve’s sensitive pussy with his tongue.

He didn't stop until Steve screamed his name and squirted all over his face, cross-eyed and delirious from the overstimulation.

Steve had been too out of it to register whatever the alpha tried to tell him afterward. When he regained his senses again, he found himself all cleaned up with his briefs on and tucked under a soft quilt that smelled of citrus and cigarettes.

It felt like coming home but Steve didn't want to get ahead of himself so he ignored the joyful purr from his inner omega and let his eyes wander, searching for a certain alpha instead.

As soon as he wondered where the hell Eddie was, the door opened and let the alpha in. He smiled teasingly when he caught Steve staring.

“Back to earth, Harrington?”

Steve frowned. He wanted to be ‘sweetheart’ again. But he just pushed through his sudden discomfort and sat up.

“Yeah, I gotta go,” he didn't bother meeting Eddie’s eyes as he tried to stand up on his wobbly legs.

And yet, he was taken off guard when Eddie was by his side within seconds and gently pushed him back down.

“Wha–”

The kiss was a surprise, but Steve wasn't picky so he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and let out those happy trills and chirps.

Was he too easy to please? Perhaps.

Then again, Steve wasn't one to turn down his chance and if Eddie decided to give him what he wanted, he didn't see why he shouldn’t take it and run as far away as possible.

“God, you’re so sweet,” Eddie groaned once they parted. “Never taste anything as sweet as you.”

“Liar,” Steve pouted with a haughty sniff.

“I’m not,” Eddie pecked the corner of his lips repeatedly, as if couldn't have enough of him, as if to stave off the endless hunger. “Been crazy about you for years, sweetheart.”

“Really?” Steve arched his eyebrow and bit his lips to contain his stupid smile.

“Really really,” Eddie seemed to give up the charade and kissed him square on the lips again. “Just say the word and I’ll give you everything, baby boy.”

“Then fuck me,” Steve murmured against those plump lips. “And if you’re good, I might ride your knot later.”

Steve knew he had gotten Eddie right where he wanted when the alpha growled and flipped him over.

The next day, he walked to his locker with a limp and Carol just shot him an impressed look.

Honestly, Steve also felt pretty proud of himself.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #pining eddie munson #smitten eddie munson #steve ‘love at first orgasm’ harrington #eddie ‘silver tongue’ munson #sionewritesatmidnight

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kkukverse · 11 days ago

Text

there you are

summary : Everyone he knows already found their mates and he is very anxious about his. Out of all scenarios he had imagined, it didn't cross his mind that his mate came into his house as the shy fried chicken delivery girl, under his big pet dog.

pair: alpha!jk x omega!reader (fem.reader)

genre: abo au

warnings & ratings : explicit sex scenes. 3k words of sex scene | fluff, smut 🔞 (minors dni)

word count: 15 k

author's notes: alpha!jk won the poll and here he is. hope you enjoy.

“Just like that?” Jungkook’s eyes are even wider now.

“Yup, we just locked eyes and we know. We’re each other’s mates.” Jimin smiles until his eyes are crinkled shut. Jungkook can almost feel him vibrating with happiness.

“Lucky,” Jungkook meant it but somehow there’s a tinge of jealousy in his voice and Jimin’s smile turns into a frown for his dear friend.

“Your time will come, Jungkook. And I promise you that all this time you spent on waiting will be worth it.” coaxed Jimin.

The younger boy just nodded with a smile. Jungkook believes in his destiny but he just wants to meet his mate now. Everyone around him already settled down with their mates and Jungkook longed for that.

Jungkook is an alpha, and he is as busy as a bee.

Working as a producer and videographer surely consumed his hours away. His work is mostly him working with computers, cameras and musical machines inside his big studios in the city. He is a very well known producer and lyricist amongst artists, so, Jungkook is rarely alone for most of the time. Everyone wants to meet him.

He is either meeting up with artists in his studio, recording with them, or he is out and about with his closest friends, making videos or directing music videos. With a packed schedule, he sometimes forgot to have a meal. Let alone a hearty one.

When he's with his friends, they often go out eating together, but when he's all alone, he opts for fast food, like fried chickens. His friends always remind him to eat well. Jungkook couldn’t help but fantasize about a life where he would prepare a good warm meal for his mate, having another soul in his house, waiting for each other, eating together, very much like how his parents did for years.

He’s not lonely per say, Jungkook has a handful of friends. He has a lot of acquaintances but he is picky about who he allowed into his life. To summarize, Jungkook is an ambivert. He can be outgoing, doing adventurous activities because he is such an adrenaline junkie. He too, can lock himself up in his own loft, playing with his fluffy husky. Fishing with Seokjin, or just walking alone in the park.

Oh, yes! He loves the park partly because he gets to play with Bam. His Dobermann, a clever dog.

Jungkook and his friends joke that Bam knows the time. Because every time, when it's the evening, Bam will always be ready, biting his harness and bouncing by the door. It's his walking time. Jungkook always bragged that Bam is such a genius, he can even remember people too and is very friendly.

And right now his genius dog is pouncing a poor delivery girl right at his door!

Jungkook noticed that she's an Omega! The alpha in him is eager to help her, afraid that she must be so scared.

“Bam!” Jungkook begged as his wide eyes bulged at his dog licking the delivery girl's face.

Bam is a pretty big dog, and this delivery girl is petite. Jungkook is a little embarrassed at how Bam is standing on his hind legs while putting his front paws on her shoulder. His size is swallowing the girl!

Jungkook felt like his soul was leaving his body the moment Bam jumped off the sofa as someone knocked on his door. And Bam just flew to the door right after he opened it.

Jungkook jumped forward and almost placed his hands on the girl's back when she tumbled as Bam was draping himself on her. She managed to straighten her back before Jungkook could catch her. A sigh of relief was heard. It was from her.

Bam? His tail is wagging wildly as the girl's arms are helplessly encircling his muscular body.

Most people are terrified of big dogs, especially a breed like Bam, which is quite famous for its scary looks. Jungkook was aware of that when he walked with Bam. So he trained his dog diligently so it behaved in public.

Jungkook even treats Bam like a normal dog by not cutting his ear or tail to make it look less intimidating. Jungkook has his ups and downs while training Bam. It was a bit of a task but he's a good boy. He was just a little excited.

But what caught Jungkook off guard was that the omega girl was giggling. The only smell wafting through his nose is bubblegum. Sweet, not distressed. Is not like he expected her to cry or scream but she must be uncomfortable.

“Bam! Get down.” Jungkook begged again. He grabs Bam’s body and pulls his heavy head from her shoulder. He whimpered cutely but Jungkook was embarrassed at his behavior. Jungkook is on his knees as Bam is now facing him.

“There we go, you're a good boy aren't you? Please don't hurt her. Hum?” Jungkook continues coaxing his dog. His hand caressed Bam’s back. The dog is sitting by his legs, yelping here and there but more softly now. Dobermann are very well known for energetic behaviour.

“Easy there,” Jungkook's voice is soothing, calming yet stern and unbeknownst to him, the delivery girl is biting her shy smile.

Though he exudes the alpha aura and he smells like one, Jungkook's voice is not demanding. The shy omega is feeling a tug at her heart.

“I'm so sorry,” Jungkook said to her. He still cannot look at her yet as Bam is blocking the view. “He gets too excited sometimes.”

Bam, being a cheeky boy, turns to face the girl. Tongue out sillily and Jungkook just sighs. This delivery girl must've been very tired and now she had to deal with Bam.

The girl. How strange. Jungkook can smell her very strongly. Even as an alpha, his smelling sense is considered high with the addition that there's an omega present. But there's something about her that tells him to get closer. The gold in his eyes shines so bright as he stares at her.

The girl just hummed. Her finger runs through the black and brownish fur on Bam’s head. Her pinkish eyes still fixated on the happy dog. Jungkook keeps petting him as a subtle sign to not allow Bam jump at her again. He rubs the back pocket of his dark jeans for his wallet. He wants to look at her but it seems like she is shying away, her hair covering half of her face as she looks at the floor.

“I'm truly sorry about him.” Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck. Chuckling nervously because the delivery girl didn't say a word.

“My name’s Jungkook,” He blurted out. It feels wrong to not introduce himself earlier. But it seems like fate is such a funny thing.

He assumes she must be uncomfortable, and he is making her stand there awkwardly. So, he handed out the exact amount of money for his order.

After she received the money, she bowed politely and bolted out of his house. Jungkook would like to think that maybe she's rushing to deliver to somewhere else instead of her rushing out because she's mad at him. She must be thinking that Jungkook is an incompetent dog owner.

The box of fried chicken is on the floor now. Still intact because before Bam jumped at her, she put it down gently. It was like she was expecting him to hug her and she's ready.

It was a shame. Jungkook wanted to apologize properly. And his alpha in him has been whining since she stepped out of his house. Suddenly remembering Jimin’s love story.

It is not possible, the moment was too short. Jungkook is trying to calm his rapid heart.

The omega has teeny tiny hints of alpha smell on her. A low rumble coming from his throat before suppressing it by downing a glass of cold water.

The beating of your heart won’t calm down even after you keep patting your chest softly. You're feeling bittersweet as you walk out of the loft.

Out of nowhere, you feel sad and want to run back up again. To the smell that makes you feel like you're being coddled. A short glimpse of his flickering golden eyes, an alpha eye. His soothing alpha voice-

Shaking your head, you bring your mind to the dog. The dog is so adorable and you wish you could play with it a bit longer. Today is so exhausting. At least the dog makes it a little better. Yes, you’re only thinking about the dog, not the man.

With the last order of the day, you thought you could drop by at your favorite bubble tea shop. But the vibration from your phone suggests otherwise.

Boss: Come pick up another set. The address is on the box.

You let out a short sigh at the message from the owner of the fried chicken restaurant you're working at. Tiredness started to consume you. This is actually your second job. The first one is being a tutor. Life is a little harsh on you but you'll manage.

After graduating a couple of years ago, you didn't get lucky in finding a solid, real stable job. Being an omega has its own cons. Employees are a bit apprehensive at hiring omegas into their company. Partially because omega is seen as a group of people that should be taken care of.

As traditional as that sounds, there are so many omegas breaking those stereotypes as well. You positively think you're unfortunate to fall on the little percentage of a docile omega group.

You usually don't pass after the interviews, deeming that you're too soft spoken and quiet. So, to keep surviving in this city, you keep looking for odd jobs. Forget the biochemistry degree. What matters to you now is what job that can pay your bills and the big bad mountain of student debt.

Min’s fried chicken has been your safe haven for the past year.

They pay you well and Yoongi is a kind alpha. Always treating you well. Sometimes he's a little snappy but he meant well for everyone. It's a quaint restaurant, more like a mini restaurant where it specializes in just fried chicken.

Yoongi can open and close his restaurant anytime he wants as he once claimed that he didn't look for a crazy, blooming, wealthy business. He is a laid back alpha. Living a serene life with his mate.

You get on your bike, put on your helmet and cycle away back to the restaurant. At the back of your mind you're thinking about the furry friend and the soft voice of its owner.

The alpha.

Your heart prickles at the thought of you being away from him. You're not sure why you feel this way. It was a short encounter and you just hope he’s having a good time with the chickens that you've delivered with care.

“Get in here kid,” the calm voice of your boss can be heard. He must be in the kitchen. After putting your helmet and the delivery bag on the front table, you scurry to the back of the restaurant. Yoongi doesn't like it when he has to wait.

“The boxes are stacked on the counter,” his back is facing the deep fryer with one hand on his hip, the other is busy putting the flour coated chickens on the basket. His head just tilted to show where the boxes of freshly fried chickens were.

You didn't say much and just walked towards the neatly arranged boxes, reading the address that was stuck on top of them.

“You can rest after delivering these. I'm not taking orders for the rest of the day,” Yoongi said.

You tilted your head, wondering why.

“I'm accompanying my wife to visit my father in law today.” He explains.

You look around and it dawns on you that his wife is not here. She usually will make you sit down and softly force you to eat something or just rest after delivering. She cares about you. His wife is like a big sister you never have.

Yoongi throws out the black gloves into the bin before he slides a bottle of water on the counter to you in which you catch with a polite nod.

Yoongi smiles but you're not looking at him. You're a little sister to him. As an alpha, he wanted to protect you and his wife always needed to cuddle you when you come to work.

She would be rubbing herself on you, just to cover you with her scent and a hint of Yoongi’s scent. So no one can mess with their baby-sister-omega. His mates have this urge to keep you in her little pocket because you're shy and it’s borderline concerning sometimes when they cannot hear your voice for a whole day.

When you walk into his restaurant, very timid but determined to work, he doesn't have the heart to say no. It was his father and his wife who insisted on employing you. Yoongi wasn't sure where he needed you in his little restaurant.

You cannot be a waitress because you barely speak, and you can't cook because it's Yoongi’s job. So, he suggested you deliver the food and you're smiling wide, telling him you have your own bicycle.

Yoongi winced at that because you're gonna have to work really hard if you're cycling. At least he has a good reason to buy a scooter for you to use. But sometimes you’re comfortable with cycling for the nearby customers. Although you never complained, he and his wife are always worried for you when you're going out all alone.

They learned to trust you in society but they are very aware that they cannot trust strangers around you easily. They can't help their protective instincts too. You have no one in this city. Families are living in different states, miles away. Friends? Yoongi will give out chickens for free for a day, if you said you have a friend.

This kid is as alone as a deserted ship, sailing in a big bad world all by herself. Yoongi thought.

Yoongi is worried about you, not only you're his worker but he feels responsible for your safety. Sometimes you forget to eat, sometimes he can see that you looked dehydrated, working too hard under the blazing sun.

He knows you worked hard but you refuse to be taken lightly. Yoongi is proud of you and so is his beloved, she is always you this and you that. The maternal smell of his wife is so prominent every time she's thinking about you. You're a special kid to his small family.

“How’s today?” Yoongi asked. “Not so tough?” Usually Yoongi is the one who doesn't speak much in his circle of friends. But with you, he has to initiate or else no one will speak a word.

“I met a dog,” you smile.

“Dog?”

You hum while making a big gesture with your arms. “So big and adorable.” You nod at him.

He chuckles. “You like big dogs huh?”

“Yea. There's one back in my hometown.” Your voice is loud now, an indication that you're getting comfortable.

Yoongi observes you so well. When you're in a new environment, you hide in your shell, your pink omega eyes always downcast but sometimes open wide when you see something that interests you. Or when you're coming back from delivering, it usually takes some time for you to warm up. Yoongi has no idea why you are so closed up but as long as he can make you feel safe in your workplace, he is relieved.

“An alpha, Jung,,Jungkook?” You said softly as Yoongi checked on the chickens in the fryer. Saying the name out loud triggered your memory of his warm smile, melodious voice and his perfect round, and golden eyes.

Yonggi also has a pair of golden eyes, but Jungkook’s are different. You regretted that you were too shy to observe his mesmerizing eyes.

“Who?” He asked.

“The owner of the big dog, the customer. His name is Jungkook.” You answered.

“What about him? You remember a customer now, you usually don't,” he teased while shaking the basket to let the excess oil drip down. “These chickens are for you by the way. Eat them after you deliver those boxes, okay. My wife will hit me if she found out I starved you. I'll pack them up for you.” Yoongi nags. He wants to make sure you have something in your stomach before you go home.

“I hope they're still warm by the time you're done with delivering,” Yoongi taps his chin. Mumbles to himself but you can hear him just fine.

“I like his voice, and he smells… like something I used to smell.” You bluntly said. Earning a snort from Yoongi. Another thing about you is you're straightforward.

“How so?” He asked. Very intrigued as you rarely talk about customers. You’re sensitive to smell, you once winced if there’s a strong smell from the customers.

“He smells like fresh wood in the mountains. Like back in my hometown.” With furrowed brows you speak. “It's weird, there's no mountain in this city.”

Yoongi's brows shoot up. You never discussed smell before. When omegas start to think about smell, it usually indicates that they are attracted to somebody. Interesting.

“Okay, let's hope he'll order more from now on,” Yoongi shakes his head. He needs his wife to consult him in moments like this. His wife can have a girl to girl talk with you.

Back in the loft, Bam is sprawling on the floor as Jeon Jungkook is sticking Min’s Chicken advertisement sticker on his refrigerator. With a maker circling the number, and he wrote a little note on it.

“The shy delivery girl”

His hand snatched a bubble gum candy from the candy bowl on the dining table. He has such a sweet tooth. He’s trying to trigger the same feeling he felt when smell you.

Sweet, and soft.

Jungkook is drowning in work. The last time he had a decent meal was days ago. It is clear that he's been staying at his studio instead of going home. His ‘devotion’ to work has an effect on a certain creature too, Bam.

Bam is getting grumpier day by day as the two are stuck in the same space.

Being the active dog he is, Bam has his own designated area in Jungkook's studio. It was decently spacious but dogs like him wanted to run on the field. Dogs wanted to feel the breeze, want to stick out their tongue and be free. Bam has been whining to get Jungkook’s attention.

Jungkook noticed Bam was getting a little sad as he slumped on his paws. Close enough to his big chair by the sound system. He felt guilty. Bam has involuntarily stuck with him for days now. Sometimes staying indoors for too long can make Jungkook feel groggy and moody, too.

If he feels sluggish imagining how boring it is for Bam. At least Jungkook can keep himself busy. Bam is just a dog.

It's just that Jungkook must finish this song because he promised Jimin he can record it next week. Jimin is an indie musician who also happens to be his very best friend as well. Jimin had been consulting with him on his new single and Jungkook wanted to give him a piece of his touch into his music.

This must be done before next week. Though Jungkook is almost finished, he keeps coming back to where he started, because he is such a perfectionist.

It's for his best friend, of course he wanted it to be the best. Jungkook wasn't called the youngest and the most promising producer of the decade for nothing.

Jungkook gives him an apologetic smile but Bam just whimpers sadly. This cannot be. He thought. So, Jungkook slaps his thighs to excite Bam. Much to his pleasure, Bam barks and circles his chair with his tongue out, his tail thumping the wooden floor. Jungkook laughs along at his antics. Bam is too precious!

The moment they step outside of his studio, it's Bam that drags Jungkook. With his size, sometimes the buffy gym rat Jungkook can easily stumble forward.

“Easy there, Bam.” Jungkook chuckles. “The park isn't running away from you.”

The dog just barks excitedly after he hears the word park.

Jungkook just shakes his head. With his hand securely gripping the leash, he slowly pulled Bam, to move together at a slower pace.

At the park, Bam forgets Jungkook as he rushes to his favorite sun spot. Jungkook just sighs and lets him as there's not many people and small kids around. Jungkook would've been on guard if Bam was running excitedly when people were around.

Dogs can be very scary especially if they are not trained properly. Jungkook wants to be and is a good citizen in this neighborhood. He is always careful about bringing Bam into public space. As he was on guard, he heard a squeal.

His heart almost dropped.

“Hey, you!”

He heard the squeal coming from behind the tree, where Bam was gone. He’s rushing to the spot. Afraid of his dog attacking someone or something. Suddenly, a sweet, soft scent of bubblegum is dancing in the air. Scrunching his brows Jungkook moves slowly and closer to the voice, the owner of the familiar smell.

He can also hear Bam huffing and he can hear the jingles from his harness. Jungkook is guessing that Bam is either rolling on the ground or chasing after something. He was ready - not really- for some shocking revelation. But what surprises him is Bam is laying his head on someone's lap.

He acted like a small puppy as the person was rubbing his belly. He was astounded and relieved at the same time. In a millisecond, Jungkook recognized this woman.

Albeit short but he remembers the red shirt, the soft chuckles, the flowy hair and her sweet scent. The bubblegum smell. The omega that’s been on his mind lately.

The delivery girl! You.

Jungkook feels like he will intrude on the serene situation. You were sitting with your back on the tree, your black jeans and the fried chicken restaurant work shirt. The first time you met, Bam was all over you and Jungkook can barely look at you properly let alone apologize. Right now he can see you, truly.

You're giggling and your tiny hands are busy running through Bam’s fur. The said dog accepts the treatment with his whole big heart. His tongue jutted out and started drooling on your laps but you're unfazed. Jungkook winced at his dog’s silliness.

“Bam,” he whispers. But he realizes he was loud when you suddenly snapped your head to him.

Gosh your wide eyes, they're so pink. So mesmerizing. Jungkook gulps. All omegas have the same eye color but yours are so different, it’s like luring him to you.

You slowly raised your hands from Bam, the dog whined at the loss as he tilted his head to you and Jungkook.

“It’s him! The alpha!” You thought. You feel a sudden warm rush in your cheeks. Forget butterflies, there’s a whole zoo in your stomach. The rush feeling somehow turns to embarrassment.

What if this alpha is annoyed because you’re playing with his dog without his permission?

“Hi, Jungkook. Sorry for playing with your dog.” You said while avoiding eye contact with him. Recognizing the submissive behavior from you, his heart fell. To comfort you.

He is guessing that you were shocked to be seen this way. Jungkook wanted to show you that he is not angry that you're playing with his dog.

Jungkook immediately replied, “Yes, but you can play with him. I'm okay as long as you're okay. You’re okay, right? Bam is okay for you to play with, right? I mean Bam is not, not okay. I’m,,yeah. Everything is okay,” Jungkook bites his own tongue. Way too excited, buddy.

“Wait,” he adds. “You remember me?” At this point, Jungkook feels like dancing.

You just nod and smile politely. Jungkook frowned at that because just now he can see your big grin and now he's thinking that he is creeping you out. Granted, you're an omega and he is an alpha. It's natural for you to be timid but Jungkook doesn't want him to come off as scary to you.

“I didn't mean to steal him away,” your voice is soft and he almost couldn't catch them. You're not even looking at him so Jungkook inches closer. He is still wary as you might not want him close to your space. But seeing that you're not flinching, he thought that it was okay.

“I don’t mind. Bam likes you. Can I sit here?” Jungkook suddenly feels bad because you straighten your back and he almost wants to be on his knees and tell you that he means no harm. Jungkook doesn't know who you are, yet, but you seem so shy.

You stiffened at his presence but you allowed him to sit closer. Heck, you even scooted a little so he can be under the tree shades, protected from the evening sun.

You were on your break. After delivering an order to one of the groups that is having a picnic here, you thought it's a good idea to just stay for a while and just sit down.

You almost fell asleep as you're sitting so cozily by the tree before you were almost trampled on by a big dog. But you recognized the dog almost immediately. It was one of the customer’s, Jungkook.

Of course you remember him. Jungkook, the guy who ordered a dozen of mixed fried chickens and marinated wings, lives in the loft, whom you delivered his order to weeks ago.

The alpha with your favorite scent - the mountains smell. He reminds you of your hometown. A place of comfort and peace.

Shamelessly, you were waiting for Yoongi’s wife to tell you to deliver to Jungkook’s house. Yoongi said you were brooding.

But he's here now. And you're freaking out.

Jungkook thinks you don't want him near.

“The chickens were the best I ever had, by the way. Even Bam wanted to steal them,” Jungkook said, lighting up the atmosphere. He's glad you're smiling now. Though it might be because of Bam cozying himself on your lap.

“My boss, he cooked them. I'm just the delivery girl.” Your voice is muffled by the sound of Bam yelping. Why is this dog always stealing Jungkook's moment?!

“Bam really likes you. He’s not usually like this with people,” Jungkook chuckles. His hand ruffled Bam’s fur. Despite his intimidating look, Bam is a careful dog. He doesn’t get comfortable easily with anyone.

“Does he now?” you cooed at Bam. “Why did you stop ordering from us?” You asked timidly. A part of you thinks that's a rude question but another part of you just wanted to know. You have been waiting for him.

Jungkook widened his eyes. He doesn't know why but he feels a tinge of guilt? He has no idea you're waiting for his order?! If he knew he ordered them straight to his studio. He is yelling at himself right now.

“I didn't know you were waiting for my order?” He cheekily smirks at you. Tilting his head to face you with a palm supporting his head. Slowly inching himself closer to you. He did not want to scare you off.

You took some time to say something. Finger twiddling with Bam's Collar.

“My boss asked, not me.” You mumble quickly. What a lie. Yoongi’s the one telling you Jungkook might be busy, which is why he forgot to order.

“My bad, I’m busy working. And I didn't know if you'd deliver it to my workplace.” Jungkook chuckles at your flustered expressions. Though you're not facing him, he can see your side profile very well. Why are you hiding? He thinks you're so cute.

“I can deliver it to you wherever you are,” you bravely said. Honestly, you yourself don’t know where that comes from.

“What can I do to make it up?” Jungkook asked.

“If you asked me, I'd say keep ordering from us. My boss is a good man. It'll be good for his business.” You answered and this time you're looking at him. Not in his eyes, yet. But you're turning your face to him. And Jungkook is blushing.

“I can do that, but it has to be you who delivers them to me, okay?” Jungkook laughs at your honesty.

“Okay, as long as he is there too.” You bop the dog’s nose.

“Bam, his name is Bam. I believe Bam will be over the moon when his favorite delivery girl comes.” Jungkook squished his dog’s face.

You both didn’t realize it was late evening as the two of you chats. You both part ways after a call from Yonggi’s wife. She was worried. Jungkook and Bam accompanied you to your bike.

He kept waving until you were out of his sight.

Jungkook is on a producing sprint. He's suddenly rushed with a creative mood ever since he met you. The short conversations with you was all he needed to write up to three songs.

The meeting at the park made him blush and he ran back to his studio, overflowing with a melody stuck in his head.

It's been a week and it is safe to say that Jungkook has been ordering from you almost every day now. He still feels jittery as he places his orders, bouncing his legs up and down as he waits.

As if Bam can sense his nervousness, and the dog just didn't help much by howling and circling at the door. Waiting for you.

When you arrive, Bam will perk up and pant with his tongue out and Jungkook's heart is thumping in his chest. That's your effect on them.

“Do you really like chickens that much?” You once asked.

Little did you know that Jungkook keeps ordering because he wanted to see his muse? The omega that he feels the need to love and care for? Instead of admitting to that, he sheepishly agreed to your question.

“This is the third song and I didn't realize I'm writing about her. Again. Bam, what is going on with me?” He stares at the dog. The dog completely ignores him as his paws are busy rolling a ball.

Jungkook gets up and stretches, feeling his back is getting stiff from sitting for quite some time.

“Bam, should I get her number? Is it weird?” Jungkook dragged his feet and lay down next to Bam. He was tired. All he thinks about is the girl in her red shirt.

“I love fried chicken, but I love it even more now because she delivered them to me,” Jungkook pouted. As if the dog would understand him. Jungkook stares at the dobermann, seeking confirmation or anything.

Bam just yelps and Jungkook claps his hands once. “Let's meet her, you're a genius Bam!”

He decided to not order today.

“You cannot expect him to eat fried chicken every day, kid.” Yoongi pulled out a chair and sat next to his wife. You were plopping your head on the table. You let his wife play with your hair.

“Let her be Yoongi,” his wife whispered to him. Softly patting your head, the neat braids are tied perfectly.

Yoongi and his wife think you're upset because of a certain customer (The one with the dog). Truthfully, you don't know what you're feeling. Jungkook doesn't order for one day and you're feeling...sad.

“I need to get ready for my tutor class,” you muttered silently. Yoongi's wife frowned at him. Yoongi shrugged, and didn't know what to do. Seeing his wife patting your back as you're getting up, Yoongi lets out a sigh.

You stand at the door with your backpack and the other hand is carrying your helmet. You stand at the glass door as if you're waiting for something, a few seconds gone by, Yoongi nudged his wife, jutting out his lower lips pointing at you. His wife glares back at him.

“You should've comforted her,” she whispered.

He shakes his head, raising his hands in surrender. “I'm bad at this.”

“Just, be safe. Okay? Later, when you're free, we should go on ladies' outings.” His wife said, still sending glares to the husband. Seriously, Yoongi should've said something uplifting. But Yoongi's being real. She knows that too. “Just the two of us,” she winked at you as you turned around to look at her.

“Okay. Bye everyone.” At least your lip is twitching upward. A shy smile sweetly adorning your face. Yoongi and his wife can feel the gloomy atmosphere in the room dissipated.

After you're out of the restaurant, at your second job of the day, Yoongi sat with his wife. “What’s with the kid today?” Yoongi asked.

“She won't tell me either. We just treat her gently. She's a sensitive soul.” His wife turns to him, lightly patting his bottom.

“My guess is that it's about the alpha boy she told you about. I think she might be clueless and oblivious with her omega needs. No one taught her stuff when she came of age. I feel so bad for her.” His wife continues.

“You can teach the kid,” Yoongi plopped his head on his wife's shoulder. She's re-arranging the things on the counter.

She elbowed her husband. “Let's do it together. You're an alpha and you can give us an insight?” His wife giggled. Feeling Yoongi's hands are slowly creeping down her waist.

His wife always knows the best so Yoongi listens to her. All the time.

“The kid found her alpha, what's there to teach?” Yoongi mumbles. A part of him feels sad like a brother watching his baby sister grow up. Of course his beloved can sense that too.

“I hope her alpha is a good man. She deserves all the good things anyone can offer. I know you're protective of her like she's a pup, but when she's sad, try to encourage her a little. Okay?” Her hands cupped on his plumpy cheeks. Leaving a kiss on his nose, earning a whine from him when she pulls away.

“Hello. Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting,” a voice from the front door startled Yoongi. The man instantly stands straight like the alpha he is. When in reality everyone in the shop saw how mushy he was with his mate. Yoongi just grumbles, mumbling something.

“My name is Jungkook,”

“Oh,” Yoongi's eyes widened at his wife. Because that name is awfully familiar as he always heard you giggle when his wife told you Jungkook had ordered. Yoongi crossed his arms on his chest, puffing up to look more muscular and bigger. “So, you’re Jungkoo-”

“Hi, Jungkook! What can we get you? His name is Yoongi, I’m his wife.” His wife breaks him mid sentence, she pinches his side as a sign to usher him to the back of the shop.

She feels the need to introduce themselves to your mate. After all, he’s family now. “Order?” She asked once again.

“Actually, I’m looking for the delivery girl,” Jungkook laughed awkwardly. Afraid that he is being unethical by suddenly barging in to see their worker.

“Oh, sweetie, she just left.” Yoongi’s wife calmly explained. She noticed how Jungkook’s smile faltered. Cooing inside as she finally met your mate. She already sensed that he is a good guy. “But what can we tell her on your behalf?”

“Umm, I don’t know if this is appropriate, but can I have her number?”

“Absolutely no!” Yoongi yells from the kitchen.

“Yes, don’t mind him. He’s a little protective of our worker. She's our only worker.” Yoongi’s wife sheepishly waved her hand. Grabbing a piece of paper and she jotted down your phone number on it.

“She’s our kid sister!” Yoongi feels the need to threaten Jungkook that there is another alpha and his mate looking after you, so he better not mess up. Jungkook swallows hard, feeling like he’s meeting a brother-in-law.

He gets it now, the soft alpha scent on you was Yoongi. You’re in his pack, so it's normal for Yoongi to behave like this. He’s an alpha too, of course he understands Yoongi.

“There you go, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, she talks a lot about you.” Yonggi’s wife politely said. It’s a contrasting reaction from Yoongi. But, Jungkook is glad that aside from him, you have people caring for you.

Jungkook blushed at the last statement from the female omega. His hand firmly gripped on the piece of paper, with your number on it.

There’s no need for you to be nervous, because you’ve been here before. Really, you shouldn’t be nervous. Instead of standing still at the entrance of the apartment you've been to so many times, why don't you just ring his bell and inform him of your arrival. He can allow you up. Like you've done so many times before.

Clammy hands gripping the end of your floral printed blouse, the one Yoongi's wife bought you. Such a good texture, even when your tight knuckles are crumpling it, the blouse still looks fine.

“Okay. Just press his bell,” you muttered to yourself. The apartment’s guard is sitting behind his desk, smiling encouragingly at your tense body. He recognized you.

Even if you're not wearing your usual red shirt. Whatever reason you're here, he's cheering for you. You've always been so polite, greeting him shyly. People like him, the guard, are always invincible. But he feels seen with your small “hello” and “have a nice day”.

He nods at you. “Do you need help?”

“No. I'm good,” you curtly replied. Feeling ashamed of yourself if you told him you're too shy to press the bell.

With one deep breath. You press the bell.

The light on top of the button turned green. Great. One step done! Now walk into the elevator like you always do. You can literally do it with your eyes closed. Just press the loft button and you'd be there in a second.

The ride on the elevator is pretty quick but today it feels even quicker! You barely prepared yourself mentally and now you're already in front of his door. If today is any other day you'd knock on his door. But now, the door is already wide open! He is already waiting for you with his dog barking excitedly. Today is not any usual fried delivery day.

Today, Jungkook invited you over to his house for dinner!

“Come in,” Jungkook said in between his beautiful giggles as he calmed Bam down. The said dog is ready to pounce on you like he always did.

Jungkook noticed the nervous expression on your face completely change as you grinning at the dog. You went straight to ruffle the dog as you stepped into the loft.

Bam really is the cupid. The smell of sweet bubblegum instantly kissed his nose and his alpha instinct is purring at how this smell will stay for a while in his nest!

“You've been here before, but, yea welcome to my humble abode,” Jungkook dramatically waved his hand. A part of him wanted to show off how he's been cleaning and rearranging the house all day.

The kitchen area looks lively with the music coming from there, the sizzling sound on the cooking counter, not to forget the scrumptious smell that makes you salivating so bad.

“It's a very lovely house,” you said. Approvingly nodding your head. The pink of your eyes are glimmering as you take in everything. Usually when you delivered his order, you'd shy away and just leave.

Even Jungkook keeps telling you to be comfortable and just rest for a while - because he's been talking with Yoongi - you politely refuse and are always so honest with your work. Jungkook is so proud of his mate.

“I wanna bring something but you said not to.” You lightly scratch the back of your ears. You remember how sweet he was when he called you. You almost walked to a glass door at one of your students' apartments.

Ever since he got your number, Jungkook is not shying away as he often texted you. Aside from you coming to deliver his order, he makes sure you arrived home safely, sending you good morning and goodnight wishes. At one point he just proposed to you to come over. Said that this time, he wanted to cook for you.

“I‘m already happy you’re here. I don’t need anything else. Let me take care of you,” Jungkook chuckles. He is standing facing the pan as he tossed the food in it. Unconsciously, you were smiling from ear to ear during the whole scene.

“After all, what kind of person am I if I’m not taking care of my mate, hum?” He continues, turning back to you and the golden glimmer of his eyes are so enchanting.

Mate.

No matter how many times you heard of the word you can never help the rush of heat on your cheeks. You have no idea how to feel when you’re supposed to meet your mate. No one told you how to act, what to do when it happened or even what to say. So when Jungkook broke it up to you, your very first reaction was “oh, what do I do now?”

Jungkook is very patient. The very first date was a waffle date. It was short because you’re rushing to tutoring. But Jungkook was fine with it, he’s the one that initiated every text and call. Because, you’re a silly mate, you forgot you have a mate. Jungkook just chuckles when you apologize to him. Yoongi said you’re naive and innocent. He said it’s fine, nothing’s wrong with being innocent.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Jungkook put down your plate in front of you before he put his down.

“I tried,” he shyly confessed.

“You did better than me. I can’t cook.” You said.

“I’ll cook for you forever, don’t worry.”

“There you are, pretty girl.” Jungkook muttered to himself. Chuckling as he strides faster to you. Seeing you standing all alone under the tree. On this cold night with no coat or scarf! Jungkook winced. You must be so cold and he is so mad at himself for not finding you sooner.

After your official visit, Jungkook didn’t hesitate to call you. Ever since that, with you constantly delivering his chickens, in which he ordered just to have them with you in his house, an excuse to spend time with you.

Jungkook comes clean to Yoongi that he’s been stealing your time but the older guy just waved it off, saying that ‘at least she came home safe’

He should’ve learned by now that you're a little straightforward. He should've mentioned where specifically he'd be waiting for you. Instead he just said. “Near the rolling skating avenue.”. He was waiting at the big tree, where there's a food cart under it.

Luckily he can spot you first. Heads turn to search for him, but you’re not mad at all. Smiling at him the moment your eyes caught his figure.

All of the worry by seeing you shivering is only amplified as he can see you're rubbing your arms up and down. Silly girl! Why are you wearing something so thin?

“Hey,” without much thought Jungkook immediately took off his scarf, encircling the thick maroon scarf on your neck. Covering your chin, making your eyes and nose peeking out. Jungkook smiles endearingly at the sight.

Your cheeks are freezing when he cupped your face. Checking you once again and he winces seeing that your nose is runny as you keep sniffing and the pink eyes that he adores the most are glassy.

Jungkook tutted his tongue. You look like you're a second away from catching high fever.

Pulling out his gloves he engulfed your hands in his. Rubbing them together, trying to heat them up. Not truly satisfied, Jungkook blows warm breath on them.

“Why are you wearing so thinly? It's freezing out here.” Jungkook frowned but his eyes softened at your dry lips. Unknowingly he smacked his own lips, feeling the sticky balm that he applied on just before he saw you.

He can just offer his chapstick but his mind betrays him. If he just muster up his courage and lean closer, maybe planting his lips on yours-

“I just got back from tutoring. I didn't realize it's gonna be cold.” You're squeezing his hands. You don't want him to be tense because you're reckless.

The way Jungkook is fussing over you is making you smile like an idiot. You never know how nice it is to have someone to care for you, especially when that person is fated to be yours.

Yoongi and his wife take care of you well too, but Jungkook is different. How he tutted his tongue as he fixed your bangs, how he immediately wrapped you so you can be warm. Nothing is stopping you now.

So you kissed him. It was a poor attempt as your lips landed at the end of his mouth. “Oops, sorry.”

Because of the height difference, you’re awkwardly tiptoeing and the instant warmth from his lips is making you squeal from the inside. This is nice.

Meanwhile Jungkook’s brain short circuited. The sudden act widened his eyes and in a millisecond it happened he missed your lips already.

“You missed, let’s do it again. Please.” Jungkook laughed softly, getting bold now as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Pulling you even closer to the point of sharing one breath.

This time, Jungkook made the move. What started as a touch of lips, suddenly turned braver as he tipped your head with a finger on your chin, granting him easy access to fully locked on your lips. Easily guiding you to open with a gentle nip on your lower lips. With a shy gasp you allowed him and the way your tongue and his tongue are dancing together is making you feel electric all over your body. This is so nice!

Unknowingly you grip hard on his shirt and your little squeal is driving Jungkook wild. Cupping your cheeks he pulled away and laughed at your pout. As if that wasn’t enough.

“Silly, you could've called or texted me that you wanted to wait somewhere warm.” He sighs. “It's not fair.”

“What's not fair?” Raising your brows you stare at him, confused.

“You're making me think about you all the time, worry about you and now I'm nagging at you.” Jungkook fixing your hair behind the scarf.

“I didn't mean to, I'm sorry.”

“No, no. When I said it's not fair, I didn't mean it in a bad way,” he pulled your hands on top of his arm. Together you walked to the nearest cafe. Where he can order you something warm.

“I actually planned on taking you to ice skating, you know.” Jungkook said as he placed your warm cup of chocolate and his latte on the table. A pretty slice of matcha crepe cake makes your eyes glimmer. Jungkook notices it and he grins. Adding it on his mental note of your likes and dislikes.

“I never skate.” You laugh at the imagination of you falling down, landing on your bum.

“Lucky you, I'm the best.” He puffed up his chest. “But some pretty girl forgot to wear thick clothes today. So, I'm thinking roller skating is for our next date.” Jungkook smirks, watching you hide your smile while swirling the spoon, dissolving the marshmallows on the chocolate drink.

Pretty girl? Me?! you thought. “Next date,” you mumble. He caught that.

“Next date. Promise,” he leans over the table to land a kiss on your lips, he couldn’t resist it. You’re too cute.

Yoongi is tired. Last night he went back to his wife's hometown because his father in law fell ill. And he rushed back home to open up his restaurant. Much to his dismay. His favorite worker, the only delivery girl, fell ill as well.

“Fucking cold weather.” He grumbles. Suddenly blaming the weather for making people sick. Now, he's not sure what to do. He can just pack up and close the restaurant for the day. It's not like it's gonna be a big loss. He opened this business as a side job. His real income is writing. Texting the group chat which consists of him, his wife and you.

Boss : kid, how bad is your cold?

you: bearable. I can come clock in for today.

Boss’s wife : nonsense! You, stay home! Yoongi, come home too. Don't open the restaurant today.

you: okay boss

Boss: i’m your boss

you: you are?

Boss: Look at this kid! Getting braver now since you're going out with Jeon.

Jungkook: how are you feeling today?

you: yeah, Jungkook because it makes me feel safe and brave. :p

No reply from Yoongi. You thought he must be busy closing up.

Jungkook: I'm very happy to read that, sweetheart.

A moment of silence passed before you let out the loudest gasp you ever heard coming from your mouth. You thought you replied to Yoongi but you're actually replying to Jungkook!

You're so embarrassed beyond words right now. How are you going to say anything back to him?

Meanwhile Jungkook is blushing red. Kicking his feet up in the air as he rolls down the clean rug in his room. After working for a few hours on a new song for a recording company, Jungkook feels like he needs to text you.

Considering how the date went last night, he just wanted to make sure you're not catching cold. But your reply caught him off guard.

Jungkook feels like his heart swells and it almost bursts as he keeps reading your words. Jungkook makes me feel safe and brave.

Oh, how he wanted to hug you right now. Bam noticed his human was so happy, he started to bounce along.

Your face heats up and you're biting your lips. You have to reply or else he'd think you're being weird. You are so weird! You thought to yourself.

Jungkook: As much as I want you to elaborate on that text, I also wanted to know your wellbeing. Did you catch a cold? Are you working today?

This. This is why Jungkook makes you feel safe. He is caring and attentive to your needs. Despite just getting to know each other, he cares for you.

you: i'm not working today. I don't feel very well. But I'll get better soon.

A few moments passed without his reply and you decided to take a cold shower to eliminate the heat. The cold sweat on your forehead and your back is making you feel so sticky.

Laying down on the couch is making your neck ache as well. You stood up to soothe the ache but you stood up too fast. It makes you very dizzy.

You keep blinking your eyes as you can only see blackspots. It's scary and you start to whimper. With your hand steadying yourself by the wall, you took a deep breath.

Sickness is common, since you're sensitive to cold weather, but it feels like it is coming in tenfold. Like a heavy boulder is on your chest as you breath shakily.

The trip from the living room to the shower feels like miles away. You're living in a tiny flat house. Kitchen, living room and shower are just a few feet apart.

You're really sleepy, maybe after a shower you'll take a nap.

The cold water from the shower head hits the tiles, after you twist the handle, though the sound is muffled in your ears. The cold is messing up with everything. It feels like a huge cotton ball stuck in your ears. The ringing just won't stop. With blurry eyes you pulled it together to drag your feet into the shower.

Yes. Just a splash and then you can have a nice nap on your cozy bed. All you can see and feel is the water hitting your face, the cold walls, and suddenly it's all blank.

“Wake up! Baby! Come on. Shit! Oh god!”

A frantic voice is all you hear but you're so tired to open your eyes and your mouth.

“You're scaring me, baby! Please, please, open your eyes!”

You're focusing on the voice, but the first thing that hits you first is his alpha scent. Unlike the familiar mountain smell, this smell is strong. He smells very distressed and panicked. Jungkook is panicking and you're fighting so hard to hold him, to lean to him.

You're trying to utter a word but everything that comes out from your mouth is groaning and soft whimper. That only spikes Jungkook’s protective sense even higher. With a pained expression, he swept your wet hair from your forehead, running his hand on your head. Peppering kisses all over your cold face.

He is petrified at your blue-ish lips. Bringing your face to his neck, hoping his scent can bring you warmth. Oh, his heart literally dropped when he found you laying down under the running water. God knows how long you've been in that state.

He's guessing this happened the moment after your last text. Which was almost half an hour ago.

Jungkook feels like screaming, seeing you, his omega, helplessly on the cold floor. You could get hypothermia or something! His heart is still not calming down.

After turning off the water he pulled you up onto his laps. He didn't care how wet his pants were right now. He got to make sure you're conscious first.

He carries you gently out of the cold shower. Frantically eyeing up any sort of towel or blanket to cover your naked body. The last thing he can do now is expose your body to the cold. The big blanket on your bed is what Jungkook manages to snatch before he wraps it on your body.

“Can you hear me? Humm?” Jungkook speaks softly. He felt bad when he shouted the moment he saw you, him panicking just now must've shocked you. Lightly caressing your cheeks, he calls your name again and again.

Jungkook was about to call for an ambulance but he heard a broken whimper, his heart pains even more.

He rubbed your head in hope to alleviate any discomfort, feeling a slight relief and your fingers are getting warmer.

“Jungkook,” you said weakly. Your eyes flutter open. You're feeling dazed and starting to mumble incoherently in between his name.

“Shh, I'm here. Let's go to the hospital, hum?” He asked. His fingers keep massaging your scalp. The heat from your body slowly rises as you're no longer wet. Jungkook is anxious yet so gentle when he's rubbing your body with a towel.

“You have a fever, baby.” He tutted.

“No hospital, please.” You whined. You don’t like hospitals. It is the last place you wanted to be. “Stay here.”

“You sure? Your body is like a furnace.” He palms his hand on your forehead, leaning closer as leave a kiss on the scorching skin.

“Jungkook,” you whine, your hand is crumpling his shirt with your fist. With your eyes still shut, you depend on your nose to look for him. When you feel like he is too far away when in fact he is sitting on the bed, very close to you.

For some reason he is too far. That makes you rake out sad sobs.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Jungkook frowns at the distress scent coming from you. His carnal instinct is whimpering, begging him to do something, to calm the omega laying beside him.

“Jungkook, don't go.”

Jungkook cooed as your tears started streaming down your eyes. Instantly he wipes them. “I’m not going anywhere.” He patted the side of your head, hoping it'll calm you down.

For someone smaller than him, and obviously weak at this moment, your fist is tightly gripping on him. As if you're not letting him go even an inch away from you.

Jungkook leans over and suddenly you pull him, circling your arms on his neck. Jungkook was taken aback and luckily he didn't fall onto you, he managed to hold himself up with his arms planted by each of your sides.

What is even more surprising is you're nuzzling on his neck. Searching for his scent. In just a second he heard you're letting out a relieved sigh and the distress scent of yours is slowly disappearing.

Being this close, almost chest to chest, Jungkook can hear your heartbeat beating calmly. You're purring under him and it took him a million ounces to restrain himself from crushing you. You're too adorable!

“There you go, my sweetheart.” Jungkook chuckles lightly, if he knows this is the remedy, he'd hug you tightly a lot sooner.

After he makes sure you're asleep, he slowly gets up from the uncomfortable sitting position. His back is screaming but at least you're no longer crying. The creaking on your bed makes him flinch. But your nakedness under the blanket is what worries him more.

His eyes fell on the neatly folded clothes near the bed. A smile creeping up his face, he never entered your house and seeing how clean it is, he feels a sense of pride.

After he managed to dress you in a shirt and pajama pants that he found, he noticed that your bed had too many pillows. The way you arranged them and how fluffy they looked, it’s like a little nest.

Jungkook's thoughts were interrupted by the vibrations of his phone. It was Yoongi.

“Hey, how's she?” Yoongi asked. Jungkook can also hear his wife's voice. “I told you we should go see her,” she mumbles at the back. Yoongi was just silent, waiting for Jungkook to answer him.

“I found her in the shower. Under it to be exact. I think she passed out while showering but she's okay now. Sleeping.” Jungkook answered as his other hand was placing a pot on the stove.

“Oh god. She passed out in the shower?” Yoongi's wife gasped so loud, snatching the phone from her husband. “Jungkook! How is she now?! Oh thank god I gave you the key Jungkook,” her worried tone makes Jungkook think of his mom.

“She's awake though a bit dazed, but she refused to go to the hospital. I'm making her something to eat.” At the mention of the key, Jungkook feels a rush of relief in his body.

When he texted Yoongi about you, the later man said that you're not coming to work today. His wife pushed Jungkook to come and pick your spare key from her. She said someone should check on you.

Here he is now, thankful for Yoongi's wife.

“Oh she hates hospitals. But, Jungkook. There's something you should know.” Yoongi's wife said in a hushed tone. Earning herself a stare from Yoongi. She wasn't his mate in just a day, she knows he still thinks you are under his care which he shouldn't. Because you have found your alpha. And he is taking care of you now.

“Yeah?” Jungkook asked. Halting his search in your refrigerator.

“I think she is in pre-heat. She usually is around this time.”

Jungkook's eyes widened at the statement. It makes all sense now. The fever, the nesting and her calling him alpha. The reason why Jungkook couldn’t smell her heat scent was probably because his sense was clouded in making sure you’re safe first.

“Obviously she's an omega so she is very clingy and needy at this time. The thing is, she wasn't taught how to take care of herself properly when it comes to this. When we met, I sort of helped and guided her. Since I'm an omega myself, I can watch over her. But now she has you, her alpha. I'm counting on you to treat her with care and love, too. Okay?” She fiddles with her apron, worries are clearly etched on her face and it makes Yoongi frown.

His mate is feeling emotional. So he hugged her side. Letting her finish prepping Jungkook.

Jungkook feels his chest puffing up after hearing that from her. How she put her trust on him in taking care of you. As an alpha, it is a prideful moment when someone else views you as capable of taking care of his own mate.

“I will. I promise. Thank you,” Jungkook firmly said. Yoongi and his wife are important in your life, he wanted to make a great impression and be someone that these two can trust.

“Make her mushrooms congee, she loves that.” Yoongi mouthed to his wife, wanting her to reply to Jungkook.

“Oh if there's mushrooms in her fridge, make her some soup or congee if you can. She can only stomach soft food during this particular time.” She reminds Jungkook. “Soft food, but plenty of them.”

“Got it.” Jungkook silently cheered at the whole pack of mushrooms he found. Thanking the god that his mom taught him to cook. Congee is easy.

“Don't worry too much, I'll take care of her.”

“Call us if anything happens or if you need us.”

“I will,”

You're hearing voices and you recognize the voice. You’re trying your best to respond but you feel as if you’re underwater, because everything is muffled and the ringing in your ear just won’t stop.

You're gathering lots of memories of what happened today. You were sick, you took a shower, and blank, and then there's the familiar scent, you remember feeling someone putting a shirt over your head, the lingering kisses on your face, a feeling of a sturdy chest, a calloused hand brushing your thighs like a feather as he puts on your pants.

His soft touch brought goosebumps on your skin. Somehow the shy thought unconsciously triggered a slick feeling in between your legs.

Jolted up, you shake your head, too fast and it's making you dizzy again. A whine coming out from your mouth as you can feel the whole room is spinning even with your back is supported by the head board.

At the sound, Jungkook is at your door in a second. His hearing is heightened now that he knows his omega is in pre-heat. Whether it's in a few moments or a day, you will completely be in heat. He is getting prepared for that moment.

The two of you have yet to claim each other so Jungkook feels a little constricted. He just wanted to jump on the bed and take care of you the way you would want but he is a well-mannered alpha. He respects your decisions of wanting to take time, slow and steady.

“Koo,” you whine while pinching your head, the pain subsides as soon as you can smell him. He is your alpha through and through.

In a heartbeat Jungkook is on the bed sitting facing you. “How are you feeling? Hum? Is somewhere hurt?” He asked with gentle tones, pulling your hands down while he's the one carefully massaging your head now.

“Not really good, but I'm okay.” You moan when he pinches the right pressure on the pain spot on your head. Earning a chuckle from him, you're practically purring. With your body inching closer to him,

Jungkook took the liberty to just pull you and your head is pressed on his chest. Seeing that you're not rejecting that gesture, Jungkook is blooming on the inside.

Listening to his steady heartbeat and the vibration of him humming almost lulls you back to sleep again.

“You good?” Jungkook laughs at your delirious state. He cannot see your face clearly but the sound you make when he massages your scalp is so adorable.

“Very good,” your reply is muffled as your face is pressed on his chest.

“I made you something, let's eat first.” He tapped on your side, ushering you to stay awake. He'll be at peace if you have something in your stomach before you rest again. “Come on. Up, up. You’re sick and I’m taking care of you and that’s final.” He chuckles at your defeated whine, gifting your obedience with a kiss on your head.

“You’re so nice to me,” You murmur as Jungkook blows softly at the hot porridge. Bringing his hand to spoon-fed you with a bright smile on his face. It is exactly like how he imagined. Taking care of his omega.

Now, he should just come clean now.

“I really want to mark you as my mate, now.” Right after he finished his sentences, he felt a sudden rush on his face. Embarrassed now that he is acting like a teenage boy in love.

Eyes only looking at your mouth opening as he fed you. It is so cute to see Jungkook’s mouth also opening, imitating yours.

“Really?” You asked, like a fool. Wide eyes searching for him. You’ve heard stories of dominant and assertive alpha but Jungkook is so different. He is so gentle with you and that makes your heart melt.

“You have been very patient. Why are you taking so long to mark me? We went on dates, we hung out for some time, too.” you whined. This is the side of you that Jungkook never knew existed. Maybe it’s the preheat talking.

“What do you mean?” he chuckles. Shaking his head at how you tilted your head to him.

“I mean, I didn't know I was supposed to feel this way when I found my mate. And you never said anything too, I thought you were waiting for the right moment. But, I can’t wait anymore, now, after you said you want to mark me.” You babbles, fingers are making unknown patterns on your blanket.

“I want you to be comfortable with me first,” Jungkook answered.

“You’re so kind to me, you know that?” you sobbed.

“Why are you so sad?” Jungkook's eyebrows scrunched at your sudden change. “I think your thoughts are a little cloudy, hum?” He pushed the hair on your sweaty forehead and he realizes you’re breathing hard now.

Your cheeks are burning up and your eyes are unfocused. Jungkook also didn’t miss the heightened smell of bubblegum. Instantly he put down the bowl and cupped your cheeks.

“hey,” he called for you.

“Want you, Koo. Want you now,” you replied. Your warm hands rest on top of him bringing them down to your under belly. “It’s achy,” you sobbed. Jungkook sucked in a deep breath and it was a fault, because his nose was hit by a sudden smell of your arousal. He is on alert. Because that is a big sign that you’re in heat.

Unmated omega when they’re in heat, sometimes they can play with themselves. Mated omega, however are more needy, they will beg to be filled because they are aware of what their body wants.

Mated means there’s an Alpha present and the brain is sending a message to the body to be ready for breeding.

This is why mated omegas are sometimes unstoppable when they’re in heat. The problem right now is, you are not really unmated because Jungkook is your mate. He can practically help you go through the whole period of this intense time.

Jungkook is fighting with everything in him to restrain himself. He wanted to help you only when you’re in the right state of mind. Only when you gave him permission. Because right now he feels like he is violating your trust, disrespecting you or taking advantage of you. He wants it in the right way.

“You’re not thinking straight. I don’t want you to be upset after all of this is over.” Jungkook is slowly coaxing you.

You shake your head, your hands trying to bring his hand closer to your inner thighs.

He tried, he really is trying his best. The alpha in him is clawing inside of him at your soft whimpers.

“I am thinking straight. You’re my alpha, my mate. Aren’t you supposed to help me?” You frown. Blinking repeatedly to brush away the glaze in your eyes. Somehow the tears still managed to escape.

“Are you rejecting me?” Your small voice is killing Jungkook.

“No, no, no. no. I am not rejecting you. I just want you to be in a clear state of mind.” Jungkook explained, cupping your cheeks with his free hand as his thumb wiped away the stray tears. “Shh, don’t cry. Please.”

“But I swear this is not just the heat talking. I really want you, I need you, please,” you ramble on.

Jungkook really looks into your eyes, as if he’s looking for a sign, even if it’s so small, just a sign that you are not very aware of this situation. After seeing the confident glimmer on two surfaces that he fell in love with every damn time, he lets out a chuckle at your silly request.

“Okay, baby.” He rubs your side, only now noticing that you’re already on his lap.

You heave out a relieved sigh. “Thank you,”

“Come closer, pretty.” Jungkook whispers, guiding your hands around his neck. His nose is touching yours and you can feel his warm breath fanning your face. Honestly it makes you feel so secure, knowing that he is so near. You’re obviously already heaving even at the simple touch of his. Finally,

The distance between his lips and yours are torturous. You greedily kissed on his lips. Ignoring him for trying to position you comfortably.

“Kook,” you pulled your lips back, only to slam it harder on him.

“Patience, baby.” Jungkook chuckles. Eyes closing.

All of self-control aside, you started grinding down on his crotch and fondling your breasts right now. Every little breath that passes your lips is breaking Jungkook little by little. He can hold on for so much.

“Do something, it’s achy,” you pouted. You’re sitting on his crotch causing the alpha to let out a grunt. He can feel the dampen wetness from you on his pants.

“I will take care of you baby. I promise.” Jungkook squeezed your hips before he took over your body and laid you down on the bed. Not wanting to take even more time after hearing how desperate you sound, he pulled down your pants.

Curses left his mouth as he stared at your cunt as it was slick with wetness. “God, baby. You’re making a mess. I haven't done anything yet.”

Your hands are struggling to either grip the sheet or just grab his hair. You succumb to the latter and when your fingers are locking in his hair, you swear you never wanna let go.

The sinful sound of him sniffing your cunt is making you more tingling. No more shying away as your priority for now is to have him inside of you or you will go insane.

“Let me taste you first, hum?” The vibration of his voice and the cold air he blew straight to your cunt makes you pull his hair harder. He doesn’t even flinch and you’re growing annoyed.

He slot himself in between your shaky thighs. His hand grips your thigh causing it hard to clamp close. You’re trashing on the bed, begging for some friction. It is very agonizing to see him smelling your cunt instead of touching it.

“You smell divine baby, can’t believe this is mine,” Jungkook sniffed on top of the mound.

“Please, do something, please.” You begged. With eyes shut and knowing how close he already is, you chanted for him to just do whatever he pleases.

“Touch me with your tongue, your finger, your cock, I don’t care! Just wanna be full of cum. Please Kook- ah!” a light pinch on your clit jolted you. Whimpering louder as Jungkook tutted his tongue.

“I have no idea my baby got such a dirty mouth,” Jungkook looked at you with hooded eyes as he straightened his back. Currently looming over you with one hand parting your legs wider and the other hand is playing with your sticky lips. Easily rubbing his fingers on the clit with the help of your wetness that he collected.

“Huh, has she always been this dirty or is it just for me?”

Toying with your clit, Jungkook is switching from rubbing to pinching it, causing you to moan with a fist in your mouth. Jungkook is not having any of it, scoffing, he pulls your hand away from your mouth and he grips the wrist.

“Nuh huh, answer me first. I wanna hear you.” His voice vibrates in between your thighs.

“For you. Only for my alpha,” you breathe out. Satisfied with your answer Jungkook dived down and started lapping on your cunt like a mad man. The sound is sinful. He lapped and licked every drop from your cunt. He’s switching from licking to sucking your clit. That really throws you over the edge.

“Ahhh! Yes!” You chanted. One hand securely gripping his luscious hair and the other is crumpling the bedsheet. Holding on as if it will help you calm. “So good!” You moaned.

“Yeah? So good, baby?” Jungkook asks, sneakily looking at you with every lick he takes. His golden eyes are more focused now and he can feel his dick hardened by the view. Your chest is moving up and down, and he can see your nipples are poking through the shirt. The sound of your moans with how messy the bedsheet is because you’re gripping it so tightly.

At this point Jungkook's cock begs to be released from his pants. He started grinding on the bed as he moved his body. Seeing you writhing on the bed, eyelids fluttering and your mouth agape deliriously. The sinful sight almost makes Jungkook blow off his loads.

It certainly did not help when you roam your hand from his hair, to his ear, his cheek. Your touch is electrifying. Jungkook groaned before he stood on his knees. The sudden stop from him is cruel to you.

You almost reached your high with his tongue.

“Wha-why?” Your hands are scrambling to catch him and bring him back to where he was supposed to be. “More, please. Jungkook, more.”

“Easy, baby. I don’t want it to be over too.” He said. “It's just, your cunt is too good, I almost cum” he breathes. His eyes are full of lust at your wet cunt. He can see how greedy your cunt is sucking on nothing. You clench and unclench the tight muscle and he curses. With laboured breath Jungkook plays with your cunt’s lips. Teasing you. Sort of like a punishment for making him losing control.

“Put your fingers in, Jungkook,” your whines is like a music to his hear. It made him want to tease you more. He purposely run his fingers in your opening. Up and down, up and down.

“Not yet, baby,” he chuckles. You’re a whining mess now, you squirm in hopes his fingers will stick inside.

“Please,” you sobbed.

“Shh, shh.” He reached your face and left trails of kisses from your forehead, your nose, your cheeks.

“An angel,” he said as he lightly brushed his lips against yours. Plump and swollen from your own bites. Jungkook kisses you like a hungry man.

As he kissed you, he slowly pushed down two fingers inside of your cunt. He is not even letting you adjust first as he keeps making the come hither motion, repeatedly. Slamming the slick covered fingers in and out as his eyes are fixed on your eyes. Freeing your wrist, he cups your jaw.

“Look at your alpha. Listen to the sticky sound, how wet you are.” Very contrasting to the brutal fingering, the hand that cupped your jaw is surprisingly soft. “Good omega,” he praises you.

“I really wanna treat you with care. Wanna eat you out slowly, and then open you up nicely with my fingers, but my pretty omega is so desperate for a cock. For my cock. What am I gonna do?” Jungkook feigns a sad pout and before you realize it he is adding another finger into your hole. Gasping at the sudden intrusion, you’re clawing at his biceps.

“Yes! Yes, yes right there!” You moan as he keeps hitting the spot. The feeling of tightness in your lower belly like a band about to snap. His action is taking your breath away, making you panting with broken moans.

With every jab of his fingers, the band is pulled and pulled and you can feel the wave of arousal is about to crash on you.

“Ah, ah, ah Jungkook! Keep going! Please, please, please”

Chuckling darkly from above you, it seems like Jungkook can sense it too by how tight and sticky your cunt has gotten.

“You’re so loud, baby.” He teases the sounds that you produced. If it’s possible, he wants to hear it all night long.If you before your heat could look at you now, she would’ve died in embarrassment.

Truthfully you’d screamed out of your lungs and you’re not gonna give a damn because the sensation is so powerful as you never felt this way before. Maybe in the past all you had was your own hand and some toys, or maybe you just slept away until it’s over because you have no one to help you. Maybe because you’ve found your other half, maybe it’s Jungkook.

Unknowingly you let out a dreamy sigh as you’re thinking more about Jungkook. The said man notices every change of your expression and he wonders what’s on your mind. He crawled down closer to your engorged clit.

Licking it again and started sucking the moment he heard your gasp. His fingers are still working inside of you, with his mouth getting busy as well. The slurping and the sucking sound echo in the room.

“Oh my- oh god,” you moan long. Too much sensation and the band snapped. The ringing in your ears deafen every sound and all you can think is him, him and him. Your mouth is open wide, and the only sounds that come out are broken ah’s and your breath.

Eyes shut tight.

Big hands are rubbing your calf up and down. “Come back to me, baby.” His lips are ghosting on your inner thigh. Weird feeling of wetness trailed every skin his lips landed on. Jungkook’s hand is squeezing your waist. Calling you one more time, coaxing you to open your eyes. And you did.

All you can see is Jungkook, with shaggy hair covering his forehead, and his lips, down to his chin and neck are glistening wet.

“Fuck, pretty baby. That was so hot.” He chuckled. Coming up to give you a languid kiss. Letting you taste yourself on him. As if possessed, you cup his chin and lick up the slick from his jaw making him moan this time.

Now when you’re chest to chest with him again, you needily try to pull his shirt off. Feeling unfair now that you’re already half naked and he is still covered. When he realizes your action, Jungkook helps you by pulling the shirt from the back of his head, using it to wipe out the residue wetness on his neck and chin.

The sight salivates you even more, now that you can see his rigid abs. Eyes trailing down and down, from his wide shoulder to his chest and to the slim waist of his, your eyes widen with lust the lower you look.

Happy to see the tent in his pants.

“Like what you see, baby?” Palming himself, Jungkook said with a deep voice. He himself is at the edge of his self-control. But an alpha like him, he feels the need to pleasure you first.

Your fingers are eager to unbuckle the belt, to free his cock from its confinement. Jungkook helps you out with a chuckle, pulling off the pants leaving him in black boxer brief. From the outline of it, his cock is huge.

You must be high on his pheromones as you crawl closer. The needier part of you is making bold decisions. His smell is getting thicker now that you realized. Jungkook must be emitting his smell to protect you in the nest. You’re rolling with content at that. Feeling at the top of the world, you want to give anything and everything to him.

“Wanna suck you,” you licked your lips, the act that Jungkook followed closely with his golden eyes. If he gives up to lust he’d shoved your face to his throbbing cock. But he is still in a clear state of mind, he wants to pamper you, treat you gently. He wants to worship you.

Pulling out his cock, the tip is already dribbled with precum. Being a good omega you are, you planted your fingernails on your thighs. Patiently waiting for him to guide you.

“Closer, baby.” He moans. One hand is moving up and down his girthy shaft. The head is angry red and it must’ve been hurt. Unknowingly you whine for your mate, never wanting him to be uncomfortable. So, you lick up from his balls. Up the base, following the bulging veins up to the head. You teasingly lick the slit. The heady taste is making your head spin yet you repeated the motion.

“Don’t tease.” Jungkook hissed. His fingers are carding through your hair, pulling them up to a makeshift ponytail. He shut his eyes at the feeling of your coy tongue lapping up his precum.

“baby! ah fuck!!” He never knew he could be vocal at receiving heads. It’s definitely because it is you. Everything about you is electric and new.

“Yeah, good omega, so good.” He moans when you start to suck him properly. “You can suck faster,” With his permission, your head starts bobbing up and down and you know you’re doing a decent job because he cannot stop moaning.

Your hand is engulfing his shaft for the part that your mouth cannot swallow. Hollowing your cheek, you’re giving a fair treatment to his balls by fondling them and your cunt is leaking wet.

Everything is a lot and yet you want more.

With your free hand you’re teasing your own opening. From his view he can clearly see you’re pleasuring yourself as you’re working hard on him. Jungkook pulled your head instantly, diving down to kiss you ferociously as he kicked off his boxer completely.

“Sorry baby. Today’s about you. I wanna help you, baby.” Jungkook said in between kisses and slots himself properly in between your thighs. Guiding his cock to your entrance. The feeling of the bulbous head makes you gasp. Jungkook notices that you’re tense and he distracts you by whispering sweet nothing to your ears.

Omega in heat are usually ready to receive a knot but Jungkook knows that this is your first time experiencing it with an alpha, and a mate at that too. Of course you’re nervous. The sweet pink in your eyes softens Jungkook’s heart. How he adores you and the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

“Relax for me baby,” he kisses and sucks the skin in between your neck and shoulder. The spot that emitted your smell the strongest, planning to place his mark there. In order to relax you, he nibbles on your ear, neck, and chest. The blooming purples and reds are scattered beautifully on your skin.

The moment Jungkook can feel your breathing is even, he gathers your cum from the first orgasm, coating his length before pushing in.

“Oh-,” your hands clawing on his shoulders as he eases inside inch by inch. “You’re so big,” you whine, voice muffling as you sob at his neck.

“Yeah? You’re doing so good.” With his hands on your hips he pulled out with only the tip still inside of you, pushing back even deeper. “That’s it, that’s my pretty omega,” Jungkook picked up the steady pace as you breathed out more and more to him.

“I’m a good omega?” Seeking your Alpha’s attention as you bite his shoulder. “Am I doing well?”

“Yes! Yes, baby. My good omega. Wanna be good to you too.” Jungkook grunt. Your cunt is so warm and keeps gushing out slick, if he moves too fast, his cock might slip out easily. Hiking up your legs to his slim waist, you get the message that he wants you to tighten your hold on him.

With your heels on his ass, he feels a bit more in control. Pounding into you to the point of the only sound that can be heard is the skins slapping on skins and your whimper.

“There! There! You feel so good!” You’re chanting now. The familiar feel in your lower belly is returning as he keeps going harder. “Cum inside, wanna be full of your cum,” you begged.

“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight!” Jungkook growls. The sweat on his body and yours are making everything stuck together. Your chest heaving up and down with your back arched from the bed. Jungkook took this chance to latch his lips on your perking nipple. That elicits another loud moan from you. He bites the nub and with his crazy energy from his lower body almost making you pass out. Again.

“I’m cummin, I’m cumming,” you sob.

“Ready for my knot baby,” not a question anymore as Jungkook can feel his base is about to swell.

“Please!” You’re so lost in your head as the orgasm is looming closer now. “Wanna be swollen with your cum,” you mew. Jungkook’s eyes are even more focused, now that you started to dirty talk to him. How brazen his sweet omega is.

“You’re gonna be so pretty swollen with my cum. Soon, you’ll be carrying my babies. Huh, gonna be so big because of me,” Jungkook let out a loud moan at the thought.

Though at the back of his mind he knows it’s too early for babies but still, thinking about it makes his cock twitch in you.

“Come on baby. Cum for me,” Jungkook rolls his thumb on your clit.

“Ah! I’m close,” you groan. “Mark me now, Jungkook.” Barring your neck to him as your body shakes when the second orgasm hits you.

“My mate, my perfect mate.” Jungkook planted his teeth on the skin, lapping up to soothe the reddened skin as he soon follows you into the orgasm state. His cock is swelling and lodged perfectly inside of you. Shushing you down as you wiggling uncomfortably.

“It’ll deflate soon, baby.” Jungkook reassures you.

“Wanna mark you, too.” With uncertainty you look at him. Jungkook’s heart clenched.

“Please, I am yours,” he cupped the back of your head as he pulled you closer to his neck. The bite of your teeth is like a rush of warm water, soothing.

“My mate,” Jungkook whispered adoringly to your ear, the two of you coming down from your high. It’s the beginning of your heat and before it’s over, it is his duty to take care of you.

It suddenly hits him that he now - officially- has a mate. Lying next to you, with you in his arms and his cock is still deep in you. Jungkook has a mate now.

“My mate,” your soft voice broke him from his thoughts. Jungkook hums along as he scents you.

True to his expectation, the two of you spent the whole week, fucking. In your nest, in your bathroom and even your kitchen. Jungkook thanks the lucky stars that you’ve already stuffed your kitchen cabinets and fridge with lots of food.

During your heat, you never think about the basic necessities but his cock. Only wanting him, his cum and his body.

Jungkook took his role very seriously, providing you snacks after he filled you to the brim. Cleaning you up though you whimpered every time he did so because according to you, you wanted to be covered in his cum.

The idea of drying, flaky cum from the both of you is not very appealing to him so he has to tend to your sulky, bratty attitude.

Maybe he took his alpha role too seriously when he edged you during the whole week of sex but Jungkook is the best in after care.

“Baby?” Jungkook heard the barks of his dog.

After the whole euphoric week, Jungkook can never be away from you. So he insisted you live together with him. Now, it has been a few months since you decided to move in.

“Bam, slow down,” your giggle can be heard from the front door. The sound of your giggle feels like angels singing in his ears. He will always smile adoringly every time he hears you coming in from the door. After work you took Bam, the dobermann to the park, like every other evening.

Jungkook cooly said “Bam likes you now and he is only excited if it’s you who took him to the park,” you know he is frowning as his dog chooses you over him. His companion for years.

But Jungkook didn’t mind at all. Because life is much better now he gets to prepare meals for you, he gets to provide a safe space for you to come home, he is just content that he gets to be with you.

Jungkook tilted his head as he could hear the pitter-patter of Bam’s foot and yours towards him.

“There you are,” Jungkook grins like a fool as you throw yourself onto him.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jugkook smut #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #alpha jungkook #omega reader #there you are

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chxrryhansen · 11 months ago

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans Series Rec List

thought i’d make a list of all the best cevans (characters) series i have read!! i have lots more to add and will continue to update this list🫶🏻 i will also create a one shot fic rec list in the near future💖💘💞

Preying On You Tonight - @evansbby

“Steve is the cocky, brash and domineering alpha who makes your life at university a living hell every day. You’re the complete opposite - quiet, meek and reserved. You’re convinced Steve hates you, but what happens when he finds out you have a boyfriend? (a/b/o dynamics)”

Wicked Games - @evansbby

Ari is the campus fuckboy and you’re his little plaything. But he’s telling the truth when he says he’s going to make you his girlfriend soon, right?

What A World - @onsunnyside

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that. [tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader, nomad!steve, size difference]

Just Because I Won’t Die For You, Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Kill For You - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd Hansen is just another job for you. Your last job. However, when he decides that he wants to take you for a ride and have a good time, well...how’s a girl supposed to say no?

Closer To Heaven And Closer To You - @georgiapeach30513

When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure. Knowing that a rodeo is in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers. All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Just Like The Caged Bird - @georgiapeach30513

You are a widow who moves back to her husband's hometown after selling your in Georgia home. Moving in above your brother in law's garage. Sharing the space with his friend Bucky Barnes, but your other brother-in-law Andy causes problems, along with your overprotective brothers.

Pretty Petals - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems. (multi-character)

His Koala Bear - @kinanabinks

you and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it's getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it.

Belong Here - @angrythingstarlight

Steve has been looking for his perfect girl and suddenly there you are stuck in this dingy restaurant. You don't belong here, you belong with him.

Finding Home - @navybrat817

Steve finds a home with you. (lumberjack Au)

Their Doll - @kaiparker-avengerssmut

y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

No Better Than Beast’s - @lokislastlove

You’re an animal rights activist who sets out to put an end to animal testing… but it’s a risky mission. (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Doppelgänger - @boxofbonesfic

Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale + Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Million Dollar Man - @chrisevansgoodgirl

your relationship with ransom and his insane family.

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart - @spacesnail3000

Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise.

Let It Snow - @spacesnail3000

She was his Omega, and Steve had a plan. She would love him. He knew she would.

Sweet Renegade - @cevansbrat0007

A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.

Evergreen, Evermore - @babyjakes

loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

A Huckleberry Is Nothing Without His Hummingbird - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd and Y/N have been amicably(ish) divorced for four years. However, when earth shattering trauma come their way, will they lean into what they truly want, or will the flames from past traumas still burn too bright?

Civil war- Brooklyn - @saiyanprincessswanie

Ten years ago the Readers world was turned upside down when her father was killed by Hydras Brock Rumlow. She believes the loves of her life Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes were also killed while trying to avenge her fathers death. Reader is now working for the FBI on a task force that is meant to take down Hydra. She volunteers to go undercover to take down Hydra. In doing so she not only puts herself in the cross hairs with Rumlow but she gets to meet the mystery men causing Hydra issues. Who are the Captain and Winter Soldier? What lengths will you go through to uncover the truth and seek revenge?

The Boston Brute - @time-for-a-lullaby

When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.

Planet Evans Universe - @astranva

In which Chris was a nervous mess when he met his A+ list celebrity crush, highest-paid, and the most iconic actress, you, at Vanity Fair’s 2014 after party. (Following the life of overprotective!dad!Chris x wife!actress!reader!)

Don’t Speak - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (Dark!Andy Barber)

Cat and Mouse - @queen-of-the-avengers

You’re called the Vixen because you were HYDRA’s favorite creation. You’re very hard to catch, and once you are, it’s even harder to keep you.

Let’s Ride - @starryevermore

You’re a single mom and have just moved into a new town. You have no interest in looking for love, but the funny thing about love is, it waits for no one. (Biker!Ari Levinson)

Out Of The Darkness - @sunshinexsin

Sienna Jons has lived in Boston for three years now after graduating and is running her own salon in the city. With a small group of friends sticking by her side, she's content with her life. Enter Chris Evans, a known and feared mob boss in Boston’s underground crime world. Coming out of a long relationship ended in a bitter divorce, Chris isn’t looking for anything serious until Sienna crosses his path. Trying to win her over proves difficult for the man who seemingly has it all and Sienna is not willing to be with someone who causes such destruction in his own hometown. Sienna soon finds herself entangled in the crazy, violent world of the mob and struggles to find a way to either live with the hardened man Chris has always been or get away from him before her own life spirals out of control.

Murder He Wrote - @wiypt-writes

You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale)

Poison Paradise - @the-iceni-bitch

Robert Pronge was sure he could settle for a fake domestic life as long as he could go on killing. Little did he know that you could give him everything he needed.

A Bun In The Oven - @witchywithwhiskey

the leaves are changing—green fading into golden yellow, burnt orange and radiant red—and the days are getting shorter and colder as autumn settles in. it's the perfect time of year for baked goods, fall foliage, book stores, and to curl up next to (and get under) our favorite man with a plan, steve rogers

Wilford’s Demands - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Wilford places you in Curtis’ care so he can impregnate you.

In The Balance - @goodgirlofglory

One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?

Drowning Siren - @rogerswifesblog

The Avengers found an old abandoned HYDRA base, that had been cleared after HYDRAs existence had been exposed. At least they thought it was cleared. It was the biggest experimental lab they had ever seen, the closest base to the ocean, full with creatures-dead creatures. Some of them laid still on tables, stripped with metal cuffs, open and already rotting. It was an awful smell. But then they heard something beautiful. A melody, a beautiful voice singing unbelievably gentle sounds. Walking into the building full with ocean creatures, they had no idea their life was about to change.

Vampire Kings Religion - @marvelcriminalhoe

In a world where fantasy beings roam every corner, the humans are on the bottom. Looked at as weak and disgraceful. The vampires are the opposite. They rule the land, and all of the creatures that take part of it. the current ruler, King Steven, has ruled for more than 150 years, alone. After many nights, and long talks with his most trusted hands, he comes to the long awaited decision that he will finally, take a wife. All female creatures, are to be evaluated, so he can find his perfect match. Of course, no one expects for him to choose a human. Especially not one from the church. Especially not the daughter, of the leader, of the church. The same church that detests the mythical creatures, wishing for nothing more than for them to perish in fire. How could this union possibly end well?

Ride And Prejudice - @pagesoflauren

A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job.

Love On The Brain - @howardpotts

You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and voilence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer? (MobBoss!Steve Rogers)

Flamingo King - @onsunnyside

The sun is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole damn city?

Make It A December To Remember - @imyourbratzdoll

AGE AND SIZE DIFFERENCE IS ADDED TO ALL! SANTA AND THE GRINCH ARE LARGER THAN THE READER! THE ELVES ARE THE SIZE OF HER PALM! (a chris evans xmas universe)

This Love Is Bad - @wildestdreamsblog

You were just trying to escape your past, and Ari was trying to chase his future.

Nowhere To Run - @sagechanoafterdark

On the last day that Steve spent in your small town before heading off to basic training for the army, he made sure it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. Years later when he appears in your town he seems like a changed man in more ways than one, but you’re ready to show him that you’ve never forgotten that day. (Dark!Steve Rogers+ Bucky Barnes)

Nice To Be Kneaded - @rogersideup

Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. Steve Rogers face had been plastered on the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. It had been just a few long months shy of a year, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, he found himself in the scanty town of Greenwood in the house right next to yours.

Forever And Ever More - @syntheticavenger

Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha who has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not.

Hackers Heart - @bakugousaysdie

steve rogers has always been america’s golden boy, leading earth’s mightiest heroes and serving his country. you have always been bad with boundaries, a little too curious, and an absolute disruption. you are an absolute menace,so it’s only right you fell in love with the most adored man in the country.

Arranged - @time-for-a-lullaby

Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

#chxrrys fic recs #chxrrys masterlist #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #ransom drysdale #lloyd hansen #andy barber #ari levinson #chris evans fic recs #steve rogers fic recs

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incorrectbatfam · 10 months ago

Note

Damian being a gen alpha implies in gen alpha Jon too ...

[at a sleepover]

Damian, whispering: Jon?

Jon: Yeah?

Damian: Our planet is doomed.

Jon: Yeah, it is.

Jon: Wanna sneak downstairs for snacks?

Damian: Sure.

———————

Steph, as a Batburger cashier: Sorry ma'am, that product was discontinued months ago.

Jon: *secretly starts recording*

Margie: You didn't even bother to check! What kind of lazy service is this? No wonder the world is the way it is with your generation. I should call the corporate hotline right now and report you for refusing to serve a paying customer. See how you like it when you lose your job.

Damian: Hey Karen, she said they don't have it anymore. Either get something else or leave. Some of us have places to be.

Margie: And who do you think you are?

Damian, pointing to Jon's camera: The best friend of someone with 150,000 followers.

Jon: Say hi to the internet!

———————

Damian and Jon: *putting up hand-drawn posters around town*

Comm. Gordon: What are you kids doing?

Damian: Advertising our joint channel.

Jon: We're gonna have an epic Cheese Viking and Fortnite mashup tournament.

Damian: Proceeds go to the Wayne Foundation.

Comm. Gordon: *scribbles a note and hands it to them*

Comm. Gordon: If anyone asks you for a permit, it's on me.

———————

Damian and Jon: *huddled around the Batcomputer*

Jon: I think we should sort it by distance instead.

Damian, typing code: Good idea.

Barbara: What's that?

Jon: Our new website.

Damian: It allows people to report stray animals they see without the risk that comes with physical contact.

Barbara: Oh, cool. Carry on.

———————

Kara: What do you want to drink?

Jon: Mountain Dew. Dami, you want one?

Damian: Depends. Is it vegan?

Kara: *starts typing into Google*

Jon: Hey Alexa, is Mountain Dew vegan?

———————

[texting]

Jon: Dami, get on Discord.

Damian: Why?

Jon: Live-action One Piece streaming in the Gay Minecraft server.

———————

Jon: Ms. Kyle, check it out!

Selina: What is it?

Damian: TikTok added a set of Catwoman stickers.

Selina: Show me.

———————

Kate: I still think you are far too young for things like Instagram.

Damian and Jon: *snicker*

Kate: What?

Jon: Well, Ms. Kane, how should we put it...

Damian: No one uses Instagram anymore.

———————

Jon: *takes a 0.5 of him and Damian with Dick in the background*

Damian: You're in our BeReal now. Deal with it.

Dick: What's a BeReal?

———————

Damian, handing Jon a rock: I would like to buy this playhouse.

Jon: Too bad, the economy just disappeared.

Lois: What are you doing?

Jon: We're playing Society.

———————

Damian: Alfred, we're hungry.

Alfred, on the phone: *makes the thumb and pinky gesture and mouths "I'm busy"*

Jon: Huh?

Alfred: I'm on the phone, boys.

Damian: I think he meant this.

Damian: *puts his palm to his ear*

———————

Jon: Parkour!

Jon: *hops over a log*

Jon: Parkour!

Jon: *climbs a tree*

Damian: *recording*

Clark, to Bruce: That's one way to play.

Bruce: Mhm.

Clark: Do you ever get worried about, you know, how these kids are turning out?

Jon: Parkou—

Damian: Wait, stop, there's a bird's egg here. I wonder what species it is.

Jon: I have an app that can scan it.

Bruce, to Clark: I think they're gonna be alright.

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sundial-bee-scribbles · 2 years ago

Note

Thank you for the translation I am monolingual as fuck and Hsxgjhf because I saw the Moke gamer post right after all I can think about is the sonic 06 fandub “Well I'm not a gamer so maybe they'll respect me!” “That just makes you a Beta Cuc-”

you're welcome!! im always happy to provide translations for any of my stuff :) (well i can only translate so much b/c unfortunately i do not know every language in the world but w/ my eng/esp skills and some intermediate german i will TRY)

STOP OMG i fuckign love the 06 fandub so much do NOT tempt me into making a talkloid out of that shit im gonna go insane. nonono omg

#ask #i figured it was you lolol dont worry abt it. but i love the phrasing 'sign off' i know u mean it literally here but #reminds me of like an old timey tv show host...#FOR THE RECORD i feel fuka & piko would suck absolute shit at games. im so sorry. WELL MAYBE FOR CERTAIN ONES #THEY'D BE OKAY BUT ONLY EXTREMELY SPECIFIC ONES. and NONE of those bitches are alpha males absolutely not #moke is the tryhard gamer thats fuckign CANON he can excel at any game known to man. terrifying. dont test his speedrunning skills #star anon ollie

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godihatethiswebsite · 4 months ago

Text

Tethered Bonds

✽ Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)

A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part Three - Deja vu

Remember when I said this was supposed to be the easy side project made of easy to consume chapters that was supposed to be easy on my brain? Oh the way life throws a wrench in things.

Apologies for the wait but thank you for the patience! A bit longer of a chapter this time (almost double the length) because if you also read my other fic you'll know I have a moderation problem :)

Trigger warnings: angst, depression

Time converted its seconds into a slow-motion camera, capturing the hectic moment as a series of shutter clicks in your mind. Rich earthy elixirs trapped like icicles in a frozen pour from heated spouts. Spare precious change suspended in mid-air spilled from jittery hands. A systolic heartbeat waiting to finish its rhythm. An overplayed Christmas jingle with the record player set to the lowest speed.

How did you not pick up on the telltale signs sooner? It wasn’t as if this was a first occurrence for you anymore. Precious moments of escape wasted daydreaming of warm comfort when it could’ve been spent backpedaling to the safety of your vehicle. Even more insulting when you considered how perceptive you’d been not ten minutes prior, untrusting of your nose to keep you from trouble in the supermarket bakery, head on a dizzying swivel for any more unwanted surprises.

Yet here you were again, betrayed by the very caffeine that was supposed to be your savior, too slow to duck back out the shop before your scent had a chance to reach his nostrils.

Now you were pinned in place by a complete stranger who had no business smelling that edible.

Pupils blown wide mirrored your own. Blue irises framed by full lashes contrasted against a faded tan that spoke of time spent abroad in warmer climates. Dark brown hair shorn close on the sides peaked into a mussed up mohawk, slightly damp from melted snow and tousled by the wind. Your eyes unfocused to take in the body belonging to the man - shifting lower, past slightly parted lips greedily inhaling your scent and a craggy chin scar encircled by a dusting of dark stubble.

A deep brown leather bomber jacket stretched tight across broad shoulders only a few shades darker than his hair, upturned against the elements and protecting a tree trunk neck, accented along the trim by matching tufts of a lighter insulating sherpa. A hint of medium wash jeans caught in your periphery, unable to glance further at the lower portion of his body, too encapsulated by the cosmic force that kept you snared within his gaze.

The back of your neck prickled with the knowledge that whatever was passing between you in the charged space across the checkerboard tiles was a transient mirage at best and a dangerous amalgam of broken aspirations at most. That grim lesson had been embedded into your retinas the hard way–

No matter how potent the connection, this man was not yours.

You shouldn’t be here. You should not be here.

The alpha didn’t miss the way you transferred your weight onto your back leg. Predatory focus latched onto the subtle way you shifted, instincts preparing behind barely contained canines. You’d accidentally triggered something; a millennia’s worth of ingrained primality overriding the structured norms of good societal behaviour. Like an old timey saloon, it was an overstrung standoff to see whose will would break first.

Your need to run outweighing his need to possess.

Eyes narrowed slightly, he pointed right at you with a warning look. In a rough brogue, “Don't…”

You didn't listen.

“Hey hey hey–!”

It was all too familiar now - this choreographed dance of avoiding uncomfortable affairs instead of facing them head on, ignoring the startled clamor of bewildered customers as you darted past a group of unsuspecting teenagers through the narrowing gap of the cafe door.

Nearly bowling an elderly couple over in your haste to escape, you fumbled out a half-hearted apology as you skidded around the next corner with a high pitched squeak, losing traction on the glassy ice in your well-worn snow boots and catching yourself on a vintage lamp post that you used like a springboard to gain a few precious milliseconds of a head start.

This was twice in two days now that you’d undergone a fateful encounter the majority of the population could only dare dream of. And here you were bolting from destiny like a frazzled rabbit scurrying helplessly through the underbrush from what should have been your savior.

What the hell kinda luck was this?! And why did it have to choose now of all times?!

The door flung open only moments after, the previously innocent bell chime now a harbinger of doom. Heavy footfalls slapped through the condensed slush of snowfall. Something feral rose up in the presence of a hunter in pursuit of his quarry.

There was something on your tail, and it felt far more intimidating than a starving wolf leering at his lunch.

Your pulse was bellowing in your ears, weaving through the conglomerated foot traffic as best you could with a body not prepared for a long winded chase. A hot poker stitched your side and hobbled your gait. Frost coated your lungs with every ragged inhale, sapping what little breath capacity you had and crippling until you were little more than a wounded mammal, panicky and acting on pure foolish adrenaline. The rational part of your brain spoke of the futility against someone his size, the brief glimpse afforded to you of his stocky frame earlier proof that your alpha was capable; well fed, sculpted for survival, muscles made of endurance and stamina.

Everything desired in a good mate, the back of your mind unhelpfully supplied.

Long strides ate up the distance, navigating the pavement far more sure footed than you.

“Bleedin’ Christ!” growled out the voice. “Will ye jus’– wait!”

The firm grip on your bicep rather than his frustrated words was what halted you in your tracks. The slippery slush beneath your feet gave way to an involuntary squeak as another hand snapped out to steady your skidding, keeping you from tucking ass over tea kettle. Heavy breaths turned visible in the frigid winter air as you panted from exertion, sucking in a heady mixture of espresso and chilled vapors that fogged up your mind and muddled your senses.

Fuck, he smelled good.

A gloved hand shuffled you further out of the way from the crowds of passersby, huddling beneath a shopkeeper's veranda, muffled conversation from the building’s interior a muted buzzing compared to the ringing in your ears. He shifted so as to take the brunt of the whipping winds on his back, sheltering you from the worst of it and allowing you to blink clear the stinging snowflakes from your eyes.

Although you never really stood any substantial chance of escape, there was still something surreal to be said about standing toe to toe with an alpha outside your family circle. He beheld you with the same wide eyed stare you gawked at him with, pupils stuck in a constant state of dilation as he huffed in your shared air, just as drunk off his scent match as you were. At this proximity, even the outside breeze wasn’t enough to dampen the waves of pheromones spiking like heated tesla coils between you. Unlike you, he found it in him to scrounge together just enough self control to soften his stance and manage a relaxed smile your way.

“There now, lass.” His words weren’t winded in the slightest, something that petulantly annoyed you in your weakened state - even if the accented baritone of his vibrato was soothing the consternation from your veins. “See? No need fer misbehavin’.”

There was an obvious gentling to his tone; something placating with an edge of sternness that felt at odds with his choice of haircut. Blue orbs roamed your face as if he half expected you to collapse on him, no longer holding on to you but keeping a readied hand hovering in case your shaky legs gave way. Truthfully - with how you were still sucking in breaths - you weren’t quite sure his assistance wouldn't be needed.

“Christ, LT was right about ye. Got a scent that can skelp a man flat on his arse.”

Even in your current state he must’ve judged you steady enough to maintain balance, despite still keeping the rigid preparedness in his shoulders as his hands sought a place in denim pockets. “Got a habit fer runnin’, dontcha?”

The capability of speech was all but lost to you, tongue cemented to the roof of your mouth and dry as a wilted prune abandoned on the vineyard soil. You’d at least managed the bare minimum of appearing less like a beached guppy by snapping your jaw shut, but the snicker from his lips at whatever he found while searching your face revealed your inadequacy to mask as a functioning human.

Azure eyes sparkled with mirth. “I ken I’m a looker, hen, but I ‘ave tae say it’s been a while since I’ve left a bonnie lass like yerself truly speechless. Strokin’ my ego a bit, ye are.”

“Your coffee…”

The first words you say to the man of your dreams and all you can think of is his wasted cup left unoccupied on the counter.

“Eh, it’s only a drink.” His shoulder’s finally loosened with a shrug. “More concerned about yers. Not tae make ye feel bad, lass, but ye’re lookin’ a wee bit peckish if I can say.”

So your mirror liked reminding you every morning.

You waved him off on instinct, not needing the alpha to start concerning himself with your health. Not like there was much either of you could do about it. “It’s fine. Shouldn't be spending the money anyways.”

He wasn’t satisfied with that answer, raising an eyebrow at your justifiably frazzled appearance, but choosing not to question it just the same.

“Gonna be honest, lass. Wasn't exactly expectin’ ta bump into ya.”

You could tell by the bite marks on another woman’s neck.

No. Stop it girl. That’s not fair to him.

You shoved back the bitter taste of jealousy, forcing a smile you both knew was awkward. “Yea… what are the odds…”

“Mind ye, when the others mentioned their wee run-in with ye at the shop the other night I ken’d there was a chance– Christ, when Cap’n finds out the…” His words carried on, but you stopped processing them beyond a certain point in his ramblings, focusing more on the melody as it slowly faded to the background. There was a lilt to his speech that didn’t quite fit the occasion - at least to you. A restrained awe; measured happiness so as not to overwhelm you right off the bat with unbridled emotion.

Part of you was thankful for his careful insight considering the delicate nature of the situation. But even so, the squiggly edges of his personality felt forcefully crammed into an elaborate puzzle rather than fitting naturally into a predetermined space.

You should be thrilled to be having this conversation. Things should be clicking and the world should make sense and his voice should be songbirds twittering in your ear on a beautiful summer’s day without a cloud in the sky and…

All you can hear is the man in a blue camry honking at the lady jaywalking in front of his car, the squeal of halted tires and shouted insults from hot spilled coffee across his lap. The poor woman on the corner shaking a can of loose pennies in hopes of a two dollar meal from the shop down on 7th Ave. Dogs barking at strangers and high heels clacking on wet slushy pavement.

Overstimulation hits you hard, leaving you incapable of making out anything but the shapes of his mouth without any of the feedback. His voice muffles despite only the foot distance between you, and try as you might you have no idea what’s causing that smile on his face. For all you know he could be just as easily discussing the week's snowy forecast or reciting Chaucer like those lunatics on the steps outside the performing arts college.

The nagging presence makes itself known in the back of your mind, adding to the chaos plugging your senses and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end in a way that has nothing to do with the chill. The disgruntled alpha half a country away calls to your fraying nerves, taking advantage of your weakened mentality and twisting like a gnarled root around your windpipe. You disguise the full body trembles with a forced shiver, the restlessness of your fingers giving in to the urge to claw at your mating mark, hiding the motion by readjusting your scarf more securely and clearing your throat. A cold sweat breaks out underneath the insulating layers of warmth, adding to the already miserable conditions of the snowy bluster. There’s only so much more you can take before you split apart at the threads and reveal to the stranger just how rotted your insides were.

You needed to end the interaction.

“Look–” you interrupt his languid tirade, voice barely holding steady and as timid as a field mouse, mittened palm up to keep him from going any further and stunning him into silence. “You don’t have to do this. This kinda thing just… doesn’t happen to normal people. I’m not gonna hold anything against you when it was a one in a billion chance of us ever crossing paths. You have your life and I have mine.”

Something hard caught in your throat and gummed up your words, threatening to crawl into your lungs and make a permanent home if you focused on it for too long - gave it too much power. You hoped he didn’t see the way you forced yourself to push through. “Let’s just… be adults, acknowledge that it happened, and go about our day as if we were two strangers passing by on the street. No expectations, no mess. ‘Kay?”

Clearly not envisioning that reaction now that he’d finally gotten his paws on you, something in his look tightened at being told ‘no’. “Hardly seems fair.”

Who was he to know ‘fair’?

“And what about us?” he continued with an unexpected bite. “Ye think we can jus’ ignore the fact that our scent match is wanderin’ about somewhere in the city unguarded and at risk of bein’ hurt or– or taken?”

You could almost taste the self satisfaction flaring across the tainted bond, fighting back a wave of nausea and bristling at the emotional wound he unknowingly gut punched.

“And your omega?” You watched him flinch at the obvious retort, both hating and relishing in his discomfort at having reality thrown back in his face. At least you both knew there was an element of betrayal lingering beneath the surface. “You really want her to have to come home every day with you smelling like another woman? Your fated woman? Do you realize the damage that’ll cause not just to her but to your mating bonds?”

In a perfect world, this whole encounter would be different. He’d say hi, you’d give him your most winning smile. The two of you would go back to the cafe and he’d pay for your coffee. You'd sit across from each other with stars in your eyes, getting to know the ins and outs of their soul for however much time your schedules allowed, blowing off prior commitments in favor of lyrical words dancing sugar plums around your head. Numbers would be exchanged and you’d both part ways feeling lighter and hopeful and impatiently waiting for the start of the next exciting chapter.

God, you hated fairy tales.

The alpha was clearly frustrated at how the conversation was playing out, scratching a rough hand through his mohawk with a groaned out hiss, eyes darting around empty space as a grimaced mouth searched for the right words. “Look, lass. The four of us–”

Four. There were four of them. Four mates.

“–aren’t gonna stop worryin’, not now that we ken ye’re within reach and without a pack of yer own.” Blue eyes skimmed downwards trying to peer beyond the veil of your scarf, flicking back up to your face when he failed, searching for a sign that you remain unmated as he suspects by your reactions thus far.

Glancing off to the side, you avoid his gaze and focus on the piles of brown snow gathered along the curb, not trusting yourself to keep a straight face under his careful scrutiny. He must take your avoidance as confirmation, returning to the conversation at hand.

“Alright, yea. We’ve already bonded another. Nothin’ tae be done about it now and there’s no use bawlin’ o’er what might ‘ave been. But if ye think that's gonna stop us from tryin’ tae be a part of yer life then yer sorely mistaken.”

There’s an endearing quality to his convictions - as misguided as you believe them to be. So sure of himself, reflected in the take-no-objections posture and firm set of his brows. All confident alpha bravado.

A small part of you keens at his certitude, recognizing it on a primal level and wanting to bask in the commanding presence your– the alpha provides. But those same instincts that scream at you to welcome his protective nature also serve as a reminder of why that could never work.

There’s a reason packs only keep one omega. While alphas are stereotyped as being the possessive pigheaded brutes who covet your kind like unstable beasts, everyone knows there is none so fierce as a territorial omega, baring her teeth to encroaching females without a moment’s hesitation to defend. It’s not like you’re the worst sorts of overly attached pack mates though. Society wouldn't be able to function if an omega snapped every time they all came within three feet of each other.

But to have the two coexisting within the same ecosystem fighting over the affections of the same alphas…

If the heartbreak wouldn’t kill them, the blood on their teeth will.

The fact that he’s trying to send all that flying out the window is both impressive and infuriating in its stubbornness.

Your own voice is far more subdued as you fidget with the hem of your coat. “That’s not how this is supposed to work…”

“Oh aye? Turnin’ down gaggles of soulmates jus’ a light Saturday mornin’ fer ya then?”

Despite the dour mood, you huffed in something akin to levity at his words, feeling some of that tension unreel from your bones in the face of the small upward curve of his lips that accompanied them. “If I say yes will that convince you to throw in the towel?”

Enchanting eyes sparked with determination and something playful. “Hate to break it tae ya, lass, but we’re a right stubborn bunch o’ blokes.”

“And her?”

Cerulean eyes hardened again. “We’ll sort that out between us.”

A leather covered arm reaches out to guard your left side, a firm body stepping into your space to block you from a passing beta encroaching too close on your private conversation. You don’t miss the slight rumble in his chest given as a warning to the traipsing man, the subtle growl claiming this spot and two of you in it, an intimidating scowl berating him for nearly knocking into you because of it. It catches you off guard, unconsciously leaning into the alpha's safety from the unaware intruder, the heady scent of freshly ground coffee beans permeating his clothes and coating you in a fresh pot to ease your delicate nerves.

It takes the two of you a moment to separate despite both of you knowing the ‘threat’ is gone; and even then the amount of space between is kept minimal at best. It’s hard to deny the pull molecularly chaining you to this man whose pheromones are carving out spaces in the cracks between the marrow like rapids, filling the pock marked gaps and branding your existence as something completely different than it was before.

The structural fibers in your body are being split in half like colliding atoms in a particle accelerator. It’s a molecular tug of war between listening to ancestral instincts imploring you to stay with the protective alpha and past emotional trauma begging you not to give in to complicated matters of the heart. You’ve been hurt once before by someone of his kind and the last thing you needed was to punt yourself all the way back to square one when it had taken you so long to reach this part of your healing journey.

You know where that path leads. There’s nothing waiting for you but despair.

Unknowing or lacking regard for your internal struggle, the alpha surprises you by shifting his arm to sprawl across your shoulder, a gentle but unrelenting force ushering you back in the direction you’d originally come running from, the deceptively casual grip brokering no room for argument. “Now, what’s say we make up fer scarin’ ye earlier with that cup of caffeine ye were gantin’ after, eh?”

Maybe if you’d possessed a stronger will you might’ve opened your mouth to protest his commanding treatment over you. Instead, nestled close to his body and tucked in tight against his shoulder, he was gentleman enough not to comment on the small whiff you snuck on your way back to the cafe.

The soft instrumentals playing festive tunes over the cafe speakers were an appreciated break from the harsh monotony of whirring kitchen equipment. Depictions of snowmen and candy canes painted artistically on the inside glass celebrated the joyous season. Evergreens and mistletoe; frozen fractals falling from white fluffy clouds. A veritable winter wonderscape - the natural frost accumulated on the outside only adding to the weathering effect.

Red and green twinkle lights hung strewn across overhead support beams. Garlands with small plastic ornament bobbles snaked around the insides of display cases. An electric votive nestled cozily in miniature wreaths and placed at every table flickered warmly for an added ambience to the already welcoming interior.

The holiday decorations had been up since Thanksgiving, but you’d never taken a moment to really notice them, too focused on the transactional exchange and the time on your phone to give it more than a passing glance of acknowledgement. Fidgeting in your seat, it was a welcome distraction.

You’d been ushered towards one of the secluded tables upon returning to the cozy cafe, your companion either ignorant or uncaring of the odd glances tossed your way by those still inside who witnessed your previous outburst. You kept your head ducked from the initial embarrassment, blood heating your face as he helped you out of your coat and slung it over the back of your chair, making sure you were settled before sauntering off towards the register to place the drink order you’d rattled off.

While he stood distracted at the counter amongst a sea of waiting customers, one of the older baristas with a candy cane apron discreetly tried to flag down your attention, meticulously cleaning one of the espresso machines with a soiled napkin purposefully tilted away from his view.

The words in scribbled sharpie pointed your way: ‘You ok?’

Touched by her concern, you gave her a surprisingly genuine smile despite your jittery insides, easing her enough to pass along a thumbs up as she goes back to working on whatever festive drink concoction the lady at the drive thru has deigned to torture her with. It was kind of her to look after you given the strangeness of the day. But against what should be all rational thought you trusted the man who was for all intents a complete stranger.

Here’s to hoping life didn’t pair you with a serial killer.

Shaking your head of such nonsense (hopefully), it took you a moment to recall the last time you gave yourself permission to linger somewhere. With the exception of the hour spent every week in Dr. Miranda’s office, you avoided congregating in public spaces for more than the few minutes it took to get in, get out, and return to the safety of your abode. Crowds made you skittish; the abused animal inside burrowed deep within your rib cage voicing its objections and reflecting its displeasure in the way it made you outwardly twitch. Once upon a time even stepping foot in a place like this - enclosed, swirling with clashing aromas, a singular point of escape - seemed like such an unattainable goal. Even now the awareness of the situation caused your agoraphobia to writhe under your skin, poisoning like fire ant venom and tempting your lungs into anaphylactic shock.

Deep breaths, girl. In… out… in… out… let it wash over you… inhale… exhale…

You are safe. You are safe. You are–

Like nails on a chalkboard, the scratching of wood against ceramic jostled you from your meditative process, an involuntary yelp met with a small grin of apology as the imposing alpha placed your own drink in front of you before taking up residence in the open seat across. Something about the setting exacerbated his already potent smell, mixing with the sweetness of the beverages and leaving you with a deep gnawing ache to lean across the table and drink it straight from the source.

The tide of anxiety receded back to the depths of your mind, your inner omega settling in the presence of your scent match. Even if you couldn’t escape the dark presence prowling like a half-starved panther on the other end of the bond, the natural relief that came with sitting three feet away from your opposite designation had you breathing steadier than you had since leaving therapy a short while ago. You may not be entirely comfortable with this predicament, but at least the attention came with a few built in perks.

The fake candle in the center highlighted the limited edition designs on your respective drinks, but it’s the name scrawled in sparkly black sharpie that catches your attention on his disposable cup. “MacTavish?”

“John,” he confirms, “pleasure ta meet ya, lass. Though I s’pose tha’s how I should’ve started things out in the first place. With, ya know… manners.”

“Not like I made introductions easy for us…” you mumbled with a wince, tracing over the cafe’s symbol on your cup as a small distraction from having to make eye contact at the admission.

“Aye, ye didn’t. But I cannae fault ye fer havin’ a sense of self preservation starin’ down a big burly Scotsman, now can I?”

It had been moreso about running from your problems than being outright intimidated by the man, but you weren’t about to question his assumption and open up a whole new can of worms in the process. “Right...”

There was a brief pause as he stared at you expectantly, hoping you’d return the favor now that he’d taken that first step with an official greeting. Something about offering up even that little part of yourself scared you though. It felt like handing over power to the fae folk; like once he knew your name he could strip the autonomy from your spirit and ensnare you forever in his enchanted domain.

Instead, you took a sip from the hot liquid in your hands, soothed by the syrupy blend like a steady palm rubbing lines down your back. Not nearly as good as the earthy bouquet your nose had been sampling with every inhale. Maybe if you’d added a pump of caramel…

You fought desperately to ignore the part of your brain that whispered comparisons to the rich espresso-y figure across the way, stopping any and all sidetracking towards scandalous thoughts of a more private taste testing.

This was not the time for slick inducing fantasies.

Once he realized he wouldn’t receive an echoing answer, he mirrored you with his own brew, humming in approval at whatever pleasant taste he found and dropping the subject temporarily. Thankful he didn’t push, you read further down on his own drink, unable to help the small scoff of surprise after reading the incriminating label.

“A sugar cookie latte? Not the most masculine of drinks, is it?” You’re not sure where you found the courage to softly tease him over his beverage of choice. Clearly his heavy alpha pheromones were messing with your logic receptors. “Thought your kind liked to keep things dark and bitter.”

“I'm an alpha, lass. Chasin’ after sweet smellin’ omegas is what we do fer fun.” There was a sparkle there that hinted towards your earlier predicament, a not so subtle implication combined with his cheeky grin that reassured you it was all good natured. You at least had the decency to duck your head abashedly, face heating up from more than just the warming drink. “Kinda gives us a wee proclivity fer honeyed tastes.”

Honestly, he had a point. Can’t say you’d ever thought of it that way before. I mean, seriously. Whoever said alphas needed to be gritty when they came naturally ingrained with a sweet tooth?

“Guess that’s why she smells like chocolate.”

Your lips formed the words without thought, something mean tugging at you the same time he did. Nails bite into the recycled coffee sleeve like sharpened teeth, taking out the urge to scratch on the poor item rather than call attention to the scarf still secured around your neck. Couldn’t even get through a normal outing without him adding his two cents to the mix.

A hard tap on the tabletop called your attention back to John. You’d maybe expected an affirming response, but what you don't expect is to find him staring at you from across the table with a suddenly serious expression, speaking to you in an almost chiding manner. “I'd rather ye didn’t bring up sore spots to intentionally cause yerself pain.”

He didn’t allow you to hide, his face moving in tandem with yours as you attempted to duck his gaze, the blunt observation leaving you sheepish as you worried your bottom lip.

“...can't avoid the conversation forever.”

“Aye. But the least we can do is get ta know each other first.”

That genuinely puzzled you. “Why?”

Even through the bulk of his winter coat you could see the way the material stretched to make way for his biceps as he crossed them over his chest, leaning back in his seat as he regarded you with easy going eyes. “Yer my scent match, lass. Ye think I'm not o’er ‘ere stewin’ in a fruity cocktail wishin’ I’d ‘ave taken ye tae a juice bar instead?”

Your face heated again at the implication. Seems his own thought pattern wasn’t too terribly dissimilar to the wiley suggestions pawing at your psyche with scintillating ideas of debauchery. “Wouldn't go that far...”

“Got no shame in admittin’ yer drivin’ me up the wall.”

He really didn’t, did he?

“Not sure you should be saying things like that.”

“Probably.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Ne’er been one fer followin’ rules though. Doesnae make sense when we're both wantin’ the same thing.”

You examined him over the rim of your cup, forearm resting on the sticky laminate as you leaned in closer, almost imploring in your tone. “Isn't that just further proof we shouldn't even be talking right now?”

Taking a sip of his own, he brushed off your concerns like a piece of lint from his sleeve. “Ye really think ye can jus’ wipe yer hands and forget about us?”

Silence laid thick in the air between you. There was no point denying when he felt every bit the earth-rattling gravity well that had the two of you touching toes beneath the table.

He didn’t even bother trying to hide the smugness from his expression. “Exactly. I may not be takin’ ye ta my bed, lass, but yer mine nonetheless.”

You shouldn't have liked the way that sounded. For the past four years of your life you’ve been unwilling property to a man holding you confined in a secret realm of bleak oblivion. You’ve begged and pleaded through every starless sky to go back to being the woman you were before fate intervened, desperate for peace in an internal war. All you ever wanted was freedom; to bound over mountains and soar across fields. To scrape off the layers belonging to him and build castles in the clouds far beyond his reach.

Yet here you were thanking the maker of scent wicking panties that your match couldn’t detect the perfume wafting up between your legs at the thought of him staking his claim over you.

“So,” he went on, “we figure out a way tha’ we can be in yer life that doesnae cross any boundaries and ye gain four brutes that'll gladly shank a man fer ya.”

You raise an eyebrow at his choice of wording before taking a sip from your cup. “Sounds a tad extreme if you ask me.”

Canines gleaming, the look he sends you is downright carnivorous. “Oh, yer in fer a spell, lass.”

Chatter turns to small talk in an effort to distract you from the discomfort of previous conversation. Turns out he’d drawn the short straw when he and his pack mates realized over piles of paperwork and exhaustive meetings that certain individuals who would not be named - but he’d been more than happy to throw under the bus - hadn’t checked some things off their list while out doing a routine grocery run the other night. Seems like the previous two you’d met were left nearly as shaken as you after the encounter, forgoing the last few needed aisles in favor of ending things early to process tough decisions behind closed doors.

That’s all the information he offers; no further details exchanged on the matter. The internal workings of your personal lives kept private. It didn’t take a mathematician to understand why you prefer to remain guarded, but you assume on his end it had a fair bit to do with the obnoxious purple elephant in the room, trumpeting and stampeding all over the future you could’ve built had it just stayed locked in a zoo. There’s still some moments along the line where he lays a trail of tiny bread crumbs, challenging you with hungry eyes to follow the path through winding woodland and glittering caves towards whatever lay beyond. You’re tempted a few times to chance a couple steps, toeing the line of curiosity but always pulling back to the safety of the unknown.

The less you know about their lives the better. You never even inquire as to the missing three names.

Eventually you settle on the topic of just how exactly he proposed this hairbrained… relationship?... was going to work. Fuck, there really had to be a better word for it. Not friends, not lovers. Not a situationship. Not total strangers anymore.

Companions? Counterparts? Symbiotes?

Either way, you’d both been spouting suggestions for the better part of five minutes and you weren’t any closer to a solution that would leave both parties feeling satisfied. Granted the only thing that could work for you would be as little interaction as humanly possible, but he was firm in his convictions.

“We can keep it ta texts fer right now if ye like.”

“But then she'll feel bad if she sees you writing them.”

“Then we'll jus’ ‘ave tae come visit.”

“But then I'll feel like some sleazy homewrecking call girl.”

“Now yer jus’ bein’ a numpty.”

“I’m being realistic.”

“Yea, ye should stop tha’.”

“John!”

“Lass.”

Oh, how you wanted to wipe that flippant laughter off his face and pry it from his mouth with dental tools. The damn thing was unfairly infectious in the way it warmly beckoned a smile to your lips. Here you were trying to be sensible about the situation he created and so far all attempts to come to some sort of compromise were met with off handed ribbing and facetiousness.

You wouldn’t admit that some of the holdup was partially your fault - looking for desperate excuses to keep this from happening - but it hung suspended in the quiet between your words. And what’s more he knew it too.

“What about the occasional email?” you threw out for the hell of it.

John outright guffawed at the ridiculous suggestion, drawing the attention of some of the surrounding tables without a care towards who heard, brawny arms tossed upward in fond exasperation. “This ain’t a business transaction, hen! Saints, what a notion…”

“Well…” you sputtered, “then it seems like we’ve reached an impasse.”

Please just drop it.

He just looked at you with further amusement, swirling circles on the table with the bottom edge of his now empty coffee cup. “Ye always a neurotically charged mess or is this jus’ my lucky day?”

Oh god. In your desperation to undo the upheaval he’s already causing in your life you really weren’t painting a pretty picture of yourself were you?

You cringed backwards at the realization. “Pretty sure you’re the reason I’m making myself look like one.”

“Aye, but a bonnie one,” he agrees.

“And you’re not worried about the mental stability of the person which life has comedically deemed yours and is making a complete fool of herself?”

“Just tryin’ tae make ye smile. It's been workin’.” A fact he looked quite proud of.

And it was. You couldn't deny that. For how much havoc this was wreaking on the parts of yourself that had become so ill equipped to handle basic human interactions outside your minuscule inner circle, there was a part of you that was glad to find you still possessed the capability of laughing with a stranger.

The conversation paused as his brow knit in confusion, the faint buzzing of a cell phone rattling in his pocket barely audible over the din as he drew it from the interior lining of his coat. The way he held the device and flicked through it with his thumb implied a text message as opposed to a phone call, huffing as he read over the contents before palming it in his meaty hand.

“Och, the louses are houndin’ me fer their caffeine fix. Hang on a tic, lass.” Flashing a quick smile, his chair slid back with a sharp squeak as he stood, strolling back towards the counter and flagging down an unoccupied barista. It was impossible not to follow him with your eyes, ogling his stocky frame as he rattled off coffee orders from the conversation pulled up on his phone. Even the sweet beta girl behind the register wasn’t impervious to his roguish charms; just a little more subtle in the way she admired the casual arrogance in which he leaned against the marble.

How long had it been since you last let your eyes wander over the shape of a man and thought of something other than a rancid dumpster and abrasive brick scraping morse code across your exposed back?

There was something uniquely disarming about the alpha. In many ways his ability to break past your bullshit reminded you of Dr. Miranda. Both refused to let you spiral to darker thoughts, spinning the world into one of muted colors rather than shades of desolate gray. But where she spent years undoubtedly locked in a study hall pouring over dissertations and cramming decades of designation theory over red bulls and ramen, John had accomplished that same level of trust in a matter of–

You checked the time on your phone. The pair of you had been sitting in this cafe for roughly fifteen minutes now. That’s all it took for this whirlwind of a man to blow away the cobwebs accumulating in your chest and deliver a shot of adrenaline to your synapses.

Too bad the monster in your veins would make sure it didn’t last.

John came back from the counter holding a cardboard coffee carrier by the handle, looking down at you expectantly from his position towering over you. “Right, lass. Need tae be droppin’ these,” he raised his arm a smidge, gesturing to the drinks, “off tae the lads. So hows about we quit the stallin’ and skip tae the part where ye stop overthinkin’ things and lemme have yer number?”

He didn’t even let you open your mouth in feeble defense of that (true) statement before serving you a warning look that dissolved the syllables from the tip of your tongue. From what little you’d gathered during your brief stint together, you didn’t doubt his potential gumption to wrangle you to the cold tile floor - even in the presence of all these people - just to fish the device out of your pocket himself if need be.

Personally, you didn’t feel up to testing his bluff.

Working off pure muscle memory, you handed over your phone and watched as he pulled up your messaging app, inputting his name amongst the scant others on the list and shooting off a fruit emoji. If he noticed the sparse amount of contacts in your phone he didn't comment on it. Not like it was hard to miss a grand total of four separate text chains.

His phone buzzed again from the text he sent himself, handing back your device with a smile that erred on the side of slightly devious contentment. The bastard knew he won and was being unfairly smug about it. “There now. See how easy that was, lass? Perfectly painless.”

That’s when it hit you.

“What if she says no?” The sheer panic gripping your chest catches you off guard as much as the blurted out words. Trepidation crushes like a hydraulic press, the thought of this precious fleeting moment being all you ever get seizing your body like a hundred electrified shocks. The rickety tower of emotional stability you’d been working so hard to keep steady seemed to crumble beneath your feet now that there was a chance he wouldn't be around to keep it from falling. “What if this is all just some big mistake and we never should have met and I end up ruining your pack–”

Gods, this was so fucked up. A minute ago you wanted nothing more than to never hear from John again and now your inner omega was giving you whiplash trying to cling to an alpha that wasn’t hers by the skin of her blunted teeth.

This was exactly why you didn’t want to have anything to do with them in the first place! It was a no win scenario that was only going to make things worse by confusing your already emotionally precarious omega. Delaying the inevitable. Dragging things out. Torturing her wounded soul trying to wring water from stone.

But you couldn’t give him up anymore - not now. Maybe once you’re home safe in your nest and can breathe clean air not tainted with his fragrance. When you’ve forgotten the oceanic hues that gleam at you with such open eagerness. When his brogue and his candor are replaced with flashes of doe eyed brown and thick flowing locks and the taste of chocolatey truth cuts too deep to heal. Maybe distance will make this ache inside easier to bear.

But at this moment, despite your earlier hesitations, you weren’t ready for the clock to strike midnight on the impossible.

If he couldn’t read the distress on your face then he certainly was made aware of it by the sour smell of overripe fruit cascading off of you, bitter and tart and pungent as you began to spiral, getting lost in a torrent of what ifs and worst case scenarios.

You never got to finish your verbal stream of consciousness. Alpha instincts snapped into action before you could begin blowing fumes, disregarding his coffee as he hoisted you up from your seat with immediate alertness. Strong arms encased your vulnerable form, one hand cradling the back of your neck with gentle pressure, engaging the bundle of nerves located there with a direct line to the body’s limbic system. An omega’s weak spot; it overrides all internal circuitry and sends calming signals to the brain, disengaging stress receptors, activating the amygdala, bringing you to a headspace of obedience and security. It was highly taboo to touch an omega there without their explicit permission; a right reserved only for close family members and chosen pack mates.

You should be angry– you should be furious. How dare he assume that just because he was your scent match that it gave him any right to manhandle you! Robbing your ability to retake control and leaving you just as helpless as that fateful night in the alley.

But he was. And you just didn’t care. Call it biology working against you, but all you felt in that moment was a deep rooted need to sink into his grounding embrace and let your mind go blissfully blank. Trusting in fate to send you an alpha with morals and integrity. Handing over the keys to a man who knew how to drive.

Releasing more of his smooth creamy scent into the air around you, body and designation worked in tandem to soothe every aspect of your overwhelmed being. Outside influences floated away with all the cares of the world, revolving around a fixed point in space exactly where you stood. Nothing else existed in this fraction of the universe. Just two souls destined to be together by forces beyond comprehension.

This was what you were made for. This felt right.

And, god– he was purring for you.

“Hey hey– shhh shhh. Settle, omega, settle... easy now. Jus’ like tha’... There’s a good lass.”

Slowly but surely, the acrid odor of anxiety faded back into the sweet juicy scent of a fresh crisp pear. A small whine escaped your lips as he sapped your body of strength, held aloft only by the taut muscles in his forearms. Glazed over eyes reflected the haze fogging your senses, melting you down into something gooey and malleable that dripped like corn syrup, sticky and coating every inch of your skin in a clear varnish. Breathing became easier. The heavy thumping in your ears faded back to white noise. Bones turned rubbery and tendons fell limp until you could no longer remember what upset you in the first place.

No longer needing the subduing effects of gentling, his hand moved from its spot at the back of your neck to the base of your skull, thumb tenderly stroking where skin met hair, shushing soft assurances against your temple.

“Ye needn’t worry a strand on tha’ bonnie wee head of yers. Ye dunnae ken her like we do. Jus’ leave everythin’ tae me. I’ll sort things right as rain, yea?”

The rational part of your brain knew better than to believe honeyed lies, but in the cloudy serotonin you simply nodded into the dark leather of his coat, spellbound under his tranquilizing touch.

“Atta girl. C’mon, let’s get ye tae yer car.”

Helping you back into your coat, he made sure you were bundled up nice and snug before shuffling you outside into the frosty air, a hand resting over the small of your back in a way you didn’t object to in your current slothful state. The chime felt a little less abrasive this time around as you exited the cafe, moving in the direction of your car parked in its spot alongside the bustling rush hour traffic.

You knew the elderly thing was a spectacle to behold; all chipped paint and rusted metal, duct tape holding the bumper together, a dent in the passenger door from where your neighbor’s kids had kicked a ball into it last spring. There was a crack across the windshield from where a bird made friendly with it earlier in the year that sliced through your vision but didn’t impede you from driving.

‘Character’ was the word you used to describe it, but it certainly wasn’t what everyone else usually chose. John obviously fell into the latter camp.

“Ye sure tha’ thing’s operable, lass?” He scrutinized every banged-up, well-worn inch of it, pulling a face at what he found lacking and raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “Not sure I trust it ta get ya to point b without a few bumps and scrapes.”

You sighed at the familiar criticism, having heard much the same from your fathers. “It gets the job done. Still safer than walking around by myself anyways. I promise I wouldn’t drive it if I thought it’d get me killed one day.” Only a partial lie at least.

He was clearly unconvinced, but blessedly didn’t say anything further besides whatever mumbled remark he kept under his breath. Watching quietly while still keeping an eye on the surrounding area, he stayed near your side as you fumbled with the keys, grabbing the handle to hold it open as you tossed your bag on the passenger seat. “Right. In ya go then.”

You thought that would be the end of it as he closed the door behind you, buckling your fraying seat belt and hoping he was far enough away that you could safely attempt to start your car without any more judgment from him if this ended up being the one time it didn’t turn over.

You jumped slightly as his gloved hand tapped on the glass, turning your head to watch him motion for you to lower the window. Rolling the old school contraption down, you were again hit with a velvety shot of espresso as he half leaned in towards you, forearm resting against the top of your car.

“If ye think fer one minute tha’ I’m gonna jus’ up and forget about ye now tha’ we’re partin’ ways ye’ll be sorely disappointed lass. Tha’ there thing in yer purse’ll be ringin’ before ye ken it and I’m not afraid to come lookin’ if I dunnae get an answer.”

The promise in his tone felt suspiciously like a threat, but one without any real intended consequence. His relaxed posture and sparkling irises assured you that while he’d probably still be cross if you ignored his attempts to reach out, you wouldn’t be awoken in the middle of the night to someone taking a battering ram to your flimsy front door.

At least, you hoped they wouldn’t.

Flashing you a playful wink, John took a step back from the vehicle. “Take care, omega. Be seein’ ya real soon.”

You’re shouting your name at him before you even realize what you’ve done, the small part of you that longs for a deeper connection clawing free from the part that fears having her heart shattered. From a few feet away you could still see the fireworks bursting in his eyes, the way he stands a little taller and puffs out his already broad chest with euphoria at your proffered olive branch. You can’t bring yourself to regret it when his unabashed smile conjures images you never dared hope for.

He waited until you rolled up your window and heard the telltale click of the locks on your doors engaging before finally taking off, crossing to the other side of the slippery street and walking with a hand tucked into his coat pocket until a line of cars finally blocked his retreating form from view.

You sat there for a moment with your hands on the steering wheel, the silence in the vehicle more deafening than the wind howling outside. The past twenty minutes played like rewind on a VCR, speeding through the chain of events leading to the present to be watched again and again and again.

After the fifth or sixth replay, all you could think of was rushing back to your apartment before fate could intervene once more and you accidentally run over your fourth scent match’s pekingese with your fucking car.

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thesparklingwriter · 4 months ago

Text

an unexpected surprise

tags: smut, omegaverse, afab! reader, omega!reader, alpha!zhongli, consensual somno, pet names, reader is in heat, zhongli is in rut, reader pregnancy in afterword, idk if genuine excitement to start a family counts as breeding kink, I STILL think this is somewhat fluffy if not vanilla

word count: 4k (side note what the fuck)

a/n: is celeste doing a good job of hiding the breeding kink or no

masterlist | taglist

It’s scarily easy to forget, you concede. It’s too easy to just question why your stomach is killing you all of a sudden. Or why that stack of pillows in the living room is calling out your name like a record player on repeat. Or why letting Zhongli go on that work trip last week almost made you want to fall to your knees and beg him not to.

But once you realise it's your heat breaking, it's almost like your body doubles down. With Zhongli returning from his trip within two days, there’s really no point in worrying him with the information. His ever-righteous alpha urges would have him running home in a heartbeat, and you can't be responsible for that.

So you call in sick to work for the next week, and if anyone knows why, they don’t question you, and you resign yourself to a horrible few days by yourself. You wear Zhongli’s clothes in the hopes that enough of his scent is left behind to cool your impulses a little. Still, it’s only so long before silk is the only fabric your clammy skin can bear, and since his pyjamas have been freshly laundered, there’s really no point in even trying.

You reluctantly switch to your own clothes again, a silk night dress you've adored since the day Zhongli bought it for you, and focus on building a nest in the spare room to distract yourself. It works so well, in fact, that you wonder how Zhongli will ever fit between the pillows you've piled up —you subconsciously only made it big enough for yourself. The spare room is good because it's the smallest—in fact, it's so small that calling it a room is almost an exaggeration. It was initially an overzealous store cupboard that you ended up forming an affinity to during your heats, and while it was never a badly kept room, Zhongli couldn’t bear the thought of you using a cupboard when you were most vulnerable, so he had it remodelled. It was worth it to him, even if you were only using it 6 times a year.

This would be the third out of six heats this year, and you congratulate yourself on making it halfway through the year without keeling over and calling it quits. But making it through this one would be tricky. One of the many advantages of married life is not having to go through heat alone, and if Zhongli doesn't return home in time, you might explode.

You try to sleep off the anxiety first, surrounded by cooling silk sheets and everything in the house you can find that smells like your alpha, and it works for the first few hours of the night until a heat cramp rips through you and stirs you awake. Zhongli is many things, but above all, he is a doting alpha, and since he has your permission to help you in any way he sees fit during your heats, he has a very good way of satisfying that part of you before a heat cramp can even manifest itself. But since you haven’t experienced a heat cramp to this extent in what feels like years, you find yourself doubled over and whimpering in pain. The waves of agony even have you forgetting how it was that you managed your heats before you found Zhongli and his cool hands and doting kisses and perfect co—

It doesn’t help to think about him, you realise, as another wave of pain shoots through you. If you can make it downstairs to just grab a hot drink, maybe your symptoms will subside enough for you to just take matters into your own hands like you used to, and then you can decide how you want to proceed. So you wait until the waves of pain are retreating, and you take the opportunity to rush downstairs and rifle through Zhongli's stash of teas. He has labelled them meticulously, and even in your dazed, heat-addled state, you know to not disturb it too much.

You find one that seems to be labelled appropriately and do the worst job of preparing yourself a cup to drink. You know he'd have an aneurysm if he saw you, but times are tough, and he’s not here to help you. He would probably be even more offended by the way you chug the drink, not even pausing to appreciate the notes and intricacies of the flavour as you trudge back upstairs and hope you find the energy for one orgasm to get you through the night.

It's tricky during this phase. Your body only desires carnal pursuits, but your mind is so riddled with anxiety that it feels wrong when you slide your underwear down past your knees, and your other hand gently brushes your nipple. It feels awkward to slip your fingers between your legs, to pretend that it's him who’s fucking you with his fingers, but it works, so you can’t complain. You tell yourself that you’ll clean up before you fall back asleep, but the hours of no sleep are catching up to you, and you fall asleep as you are.

When you wake up again, it's not from a heat cramp or because you need to use the toilet, it's because your heightened senses can hear the front door opening. You take a minute to listen before you panic—Zhongli isn't supposed to be back for another day, but when you realise that it's his steady but hurried footsteps that you hear, the tension leaves your body, and you relax. You don't have the strength to go to him, so you just hope that he finds you here, and he does.

He pushes your door open and glances inside, spotting you curled up in your tiny nest, stressed and anticipating another wave of pain. He feels horrible.

“Oh, my love,” he whispers, walking over to you and taking you in his arms. He carefully nips at your scent glands first and is relieved that from the way you smell, you're in your late preheat, so even though you may have suffered up to this point, it hasn't been the worst your body has to offer. A grateful hum slips from your lips as your eyes close in bliss, and his cool hands against your stomach seem to calm the heat cramp that was building up. “Love, why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were coming back anyway,” you reply, clutching at his shirt and capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss. “No need to bother you.”

“There was every need to bother me,” he whispers, gently adjusting the pillows around you on the bed and stripping off layer after layer after layer. He starts with his gloved hands, and the sight has you clenching on nothing, but you're just happy to finally have him to yourself despite your frustration. “You’re my wife, my mate, my omega. It is my job to take care of you. First and foremost.”

He reaches under you to pick you up, but you protest, grabbing his forearm. “I don’t want to move.”

Zhongli is hit with this unyielding wave of desire, so much so that he has to swallow his thoughts of you round with his child down before he speaks.

“Little love,” he shoots back, gently stroking your hair. “I have to take the contraceptive. Should I leave you here?”

“Don’t,” You say. You’d agreed that the next time your heat and his rut coincided, you’d be more thsn happy to explore the idea of having a child, but with the painful realisation that it might not sync up as fast as you want it to, you’re not holding out on luck.

“Beloved,” Zhongli shoots back, devastatingly beautiful, as you pull out the ribbon that holds his hair back. The image in his mind from earlier shoots back into his mind as he quickly contemplates whether he can take your words as they are, given the stage of your heat. If you were further along, you might say anything to get him inside of you again, but right now, he doesn’t think that’s the case. He takes your hand and gently kisses the inside of your wrist, a familiar action that makes you smile lightly.

“Don’t take it.” you repeat. “I don’t want you to take it.” You gently tug the ends of his hair to pull him closer to you, suddenly over-aware of the fact that your scent glands are begging for his attention. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to have regrets later,” Zhongli says quietly, and this time, when he leans in to nip at your neck again, something in his scent tickles the back of your throat, rich and almost spicy, and it makes you cough. His eyes shoot up to yours as realisation dawns on the both of you.

Zhonglis ruts are less common then your heats, with him experiencing only four a year compared to you. And if the last time they coincided was 2 cycles ago…

“Hm,” Zhongli mutters as you pull him into your nest. “That seems to explain things.” He had returned home early from this work trip for a multitude of reasons. At first, it was your reaction to him leaving, and then it was the dreams and constant thoughts of you that proved difficult to handle during important funeral proceedings, and then it was the thoughts of how you would look pregnant the moment he realised you were in heat. He should have realised sooner, instead of ignoring it and letting you suffer thus far.

“Sleepy?” he asks you, as you bury your face into his chest. But the most you do in the way of a response is make a soft humming sound, your omegan senses calmed by the knowledge that your alpha is close. He is upset by the fact that you didn't feel you could reach him when you needed him, but he knows now you need him more than you need an ultimatum. But for the next few hours, it seems like it’s just a waiting game. He is grateful his rut hasn't set in fully, or else the way you nuzzle into his chest might have driven him half crazy.

He gently strokes your hair, unable to tear his eyes from you for a single second—not only because you're the epitome of beauty to him, but also because he has been away, and he wants to take stock of everything. You once joked that he’d probably notice if a strand of hair on your head went missing, and although he’d laughed it off, he wouldn't be surprised if he could.

Your scent slowly begins to shift to something more sweet as you claw at your husband. You're not awake yet, and you won't be for a while, but you’d given Zhongli explicit permission to do whatever he needed to keep you happy during your heats, and he is always eager to please.

Even still, Zhongli takes his cues from you—if you’re grabbing at his face, he’ll kiss you for as long as you want him to, until you escalate things in your heat-addled slumber. And you do, breathy moans punctuating the kiss until you can take no more, and you're grabbing at his hips.

“What do you want?” Zhongli whispers, as he gently rolls you over onto your back. He’s been ignoring his almost painful hardness in favour of doting on you, but he refuses to forgo his manners the moment sex is on the table.

You whine at him, clawing at him some more, and he chuckles, gently pulling your nightgown up to your waist. He clicks his tongue at the sight of you, practically dripping for him, your underwear nowhere to be found, and as much as he wants to dip his tongue into you, he knows it's cruel to play with you in such ways.

“I know, love. I know.” He whispers to you as he gently enters you. You’re so wet that there's almost no resistance, and the breathy moan that slips out of you is almost too much for him to bear. His mind is almost immediately flooding with thoughts of fucking you into the mattress until you’re both so tired that it will take days to recover, but he would never do anything like that unless you were awake. He may have your permission, but he has his own morals.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers as you pull him closer, your head thrown back in silent bliss. Your response is in the way you clench around him, the slight whine in your quiet moans, and the way you dig your nails into his back. Gods, he loves it when you do that. And although it drives him near crazy, he keeps a steady pace until he feels his knot growing. He nips at your scent glands again, using the opportunity to whisper in your ear—filthy words that have you orgasming almost involuntarily, and the way you clench on him as his knot settles into place triggers his.

He pulls you to the side so the both of you can lie down comfortably, and he is convinced that the satisfied look on your face as his knot keeps all of his cum safe inside you is enough to keep it there for another half hour.

His estimations turn out to be correct, and by the time you begin to stir, his knot is still going strong. He talks to you as you wake, gently reminding you to not move too suddenly. You’re dazed but, more than anything, grateful for him as you pull him tighter.

“Thank you,” is the first thing you say when you wake up, gently planting a kiss on his cheek. The action, albeit mostly innocent, makes his cock twitch inside you, and you've regained enough of your sanity to laugh. “Rut?”

“It seems so.”

“Did you…?” your question trails off as if the process of asking is too tiresome for you. If he had, you would understand, but your anxiety is understandable. If he had taken it, it would mean you would both have to wait again, and Zhongli would be lying if he said that the idea of being a father would be unfavourable to him.

“As per our agreement, I did not.”

The smile you give him is so… perfect that Zhongli has to look away before his knot returns with a vengeance, and he opts for pulling you into a hug, the cold silk of your dress against his chest. He wants to bathe you before the next round of cramps set in, otherwise, you will be clammy and irritable, and he learned very quickly that you cannot bear any discomfort that he cannot fix by fucking you during your heats.

He wants to run a hand over your belly, but decides against it, for fear of jinxing things, instead settling on pressing multiple kisses to your head.

“How do you feel?” he asks you. He’s not entirely sure how far into your preheat you were before he returned home and he’s worried that he hasn’t been able to help all of the symptoms as a result.

“Warm,” you whisper. “How come I’m still wearing this?”

“As you remind me every cycle, doing anything but what an omega in heat explicitly asks of you is essentially torture. You didn't ask me to take it off, so I didn’t.”

You pout at him, and he laughs gently at you. His knot has deflated, so he slowly sits up and pulls you into his arms. “Will you fight me if I offer to bathe you?”

You shake your head no, lifting your arms above your head as he carefully drags your nightdress off. He decides to save himself the hassle of trying to get it completely clean and just get you a new one.

The minute your skin is exposed to the cold air, you wrap your arms around your chest, and Zhongli takes personal offence to that, kissing your arms until you move them, and then kissing your breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipples. From the way your nails dig into him, he realises that's just about as far as you’ll let him go with the teasing, so he picks you up and takes you to the bath. It’s easy when you’re as pliant as you are now—any attempt you make to push back is easily combatted with words of praise and a gentle kiss to your head, and before you know it, you’re clean and dry and pressed up against your lover’s cool skin.

“Are you still certain about this?” Zhongli strokes your hair again, gently scratching your scalp in a way that sends satisfying shivers down your spine. “I can still take the contraceptive if you want.”

“No. I want this with you,” you reiterate, pulling him into another kiss. You expect him to kiss you back softly, the way he usually does, but the fact he’s in rut has slipped your mind, and the way he captures your lips in a fiery kiss has a wave of need rushing through you. You gasp at the way his teeth graze your neck, the way his hands rest against your skin, still so gentle despite the fact you know he wants to be anything but.

A heat cramp comes over you so suddenly that Zhongli barely has the chance to register the change in your scent, but he’s quick to respond to your whimper. It’s cheeky of him, he knows, but he gently slides a hand up your thigh and lets it play with your clit for little more than a few seconds. Judging by how drenched you are, if he’d allowed himself to play for any longer, you might have taken matters into your own hands.

Zhongli whispers your name, although it comes out as more of a growl than a whisper, and you know he’s asking for your permission to take you the way he wants to—the way he craves. And even though he knows you’ll be fine, in fact, when you’re in heat you’re most compatible for a mate in rut, he feels the need to check. So when you reach for him and bite on his neck as hard as you physically can, he takes that as an okay.

It takes every single piece of patience he has to gently place your legs over his shoulder, and slowly sink himself into you. It takes even more for him to maintain a slow pace when you’re looking up at him like that, even more so when you moan his name in the breathy way he loves so dear.

“Safe word?” he asks through gritted teeth, and only when you repeat it back to him does he let himself relax a little. He slides a pillow under your hips, before whispering: “Brace yourself, love.” And even though he warns you, you’re still shocked by how hard his next thrust is—if you hadn't been in heat, it probably would have been enough to send you over the edge. His hands grip your waist so hard that in the back of your mind, you're convinced that it’s going to bruise, but the rest of your thoughts are blank, a dull hum in your head where words are supposed to be.

“Are you still alright?” he asks, as he moves his hands from your waist to your wrists.

“More. please, more,” you reply, and he obliges, quietly pleased with the way your pleas shift from words to loud moans and desperate whimpers.

“You want me to breed you, don’t you?” his voice is impossibly steady, his eyes trained on you in a way that stops you from looking elsewhere, even after he thrusts into you so hard that you want to throw your head back. Your whispered please is so faint that he almost doesn't hear it, but he does feel you clench desperately around him, and he's almost disappointed that he’s knotting you so soon.

The way you look at him is unfair. The way you scream his name as you orgasm is unfair, the way you close your eyes in bliss as he cums inside you is so. Fucking. Unfair. How is he ever supposed to win against you? You could ask him for the world, and he would create it for you.

“Is it safe to assume you’re satisfied now?” he asks you when you’re once again capable of speech.

“For now,” you respond. And even though you know it's bad to keep things from him, you don’t tell your husband that you don’t feel another heat cramp for the rest of the week.

~~~

“It has been less than a second since I stepped over the threshold of this house and you are already jumping on me.” Zhongli laughs as you barrel into his arms. He notes you smell different, but he can’t pick up what he is. As he picks you up, he thinks that you're slightly heavier than usual, but that could just be his muscles being fatigued from moving packed boxes of paperwork all day.

“You’re home early,” you smile, looking down at him. He manages to get his shoes off and walk you over to the living room, where you curl up next to him on the sofa. You have been increasingly affectionate as of the last few months and increasingly horny too, but you have those phases every so often, so Zhongli does not question it.

He very quickly realises you’re wearing the replacement of the silk nightgown he got rid of during your last heat. He made sure it was a one-to-one replacement, but it fits differently on you now. Not a bad difference, it’s a perfect difference, he concludes.

“I missed you, my love.” he kisses you softly. “More than should be humanely possible.”

“I missed you more.” you grin. You sit between his legs, your back against his chest, your head tilted lightly to the side so he can kiss your neck the way he always does. But this time, he hovers before he kisses you, and you use his sudden pause to take his hands and place them on your belly.

Zhongli’s smile is peaceful. he likes the quietness of being with you, especially when youre so soft against him, and you smell so…sweet. sweeter than usual. more perfect than normal.

he blames his reignited obsession on his rut somehow. it isn’t his first, obviously, but it’s the first time he’s been able to truly spend it with a partner. he doesn’t know what else to blame it on, nothing else has changed.

except for when the fruit vendor looked at you the wrong way and he almost wanted to rip the man’s throat out. or when then bakery didn’t have the bread you wanted, and it made you cry and he wanted to destroy it there and then. and maybe crying over the bread was a little melodramatic, but it was about the time where your heat returned, so he couldn’t judge you.

but he could judge himself for wanting to resort to such barbarism.

“how have you been, love?”

“tired. hungry. bored.” you retort, your hands falling over his on your belly.

“then we should find something for us to do.”

“i think we should look at remodelling the fourth room,” you grin, “it’s going to be a really boring 6 months if we use your idea of fun as a bench mark,” you sigh.

“The room that conjoins ours?” Zhongli replies, ignoring your mild insult. his body seems to understand your words faster than he does, as his thumbs gently start rubbing your belly. “so you don’t want an office anymore?”

Your husband's brain has been replaced with a rock, you decide.

“Li,” you sigh. “how you have survived so long whilst ignoring your instincts is beyond me.” you tilt you head up so you can look at him as you deliver the news. “i’m pregnant.”

You feel his breathing pause for a second, and the silence that descends between you is warm and comfortable as the words register.

“You’re…” Your husband is speechless. He sits up slowly, his eyes trained on you.

“mmhmm,” you reply, as he gently cradles your face and kisses you softly. it’s only when he pulls away from you that you realise he’s crying.

“oh, my darling,” you smile, pulling him into another hug. “you’ll set me off.”

he pulls away to look at you, eyes shining with unshed tears and eternal love.

“i suppose celebrations are in order,” he says quietly, pressing kisses into your hair, your cheeks, and your neck as you giggle at him. "I am certain you’ll be a great mother, deserving of every praise.”

You smile. “And you’ll be a great father.” you reply. “The best our child could ever ask for.”

notes: i have plenty of things to blame this on but I wont even start. can smut be fluffy...? is that a thing? is this enough to make u guys forgive my absence ?

#[🚨]—restricted fiction #minors dni #zhongli smut #genshin smut #omegaverse #alpha zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli fanfic #genshin zhongli #zhongli genshin impact #genshin impact

834 notes · View notes

soaps-mohawk · 8 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 10,232...oops

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff

A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.

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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate.

What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest.

No one can help you.

You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place.

The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked.

The thought sends a chill running down your spine.

You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover.

Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens.

How long has it been up there?

You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you.

Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat.

You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room.

You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious.

You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk.

A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed.

You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing.

Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden.

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn.

Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.

You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you?

You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick.

You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here?

The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic.

You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again.

“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?”

You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything.

You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen.

Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too.

“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.

“Is everything alright?” She finally asks.

“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.”

It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously.

“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says.

“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.”

“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?”

“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit.

You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine.

You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction.

You just want to feel at home again.

You want to be safe again.

***

The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.

You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat.

You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening.

Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it.

You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping.

You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room.

You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in.

You need tomorrow to come, and fast.

***

Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort.

All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position.

You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed.

That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along.

The thought sends a chill running down your spine.

You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission.

You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do.

You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so.

You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer.

She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?”

No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety.

But what if she gets mad?

Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on.

You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything.

“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.”

You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you.

You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you.

“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?”

“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.”

Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?”

“I-I’m sure.” You reply.

There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.”

You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong.

You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions.

You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it.

You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still.

They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid.

Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare.

One of many.

You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again.

At least, until they have to leave again.

You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return.

***

Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again.

You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright.

You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again.

John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain.

His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again.

“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head.

You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm.

He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here.

“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.”

You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first.

“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again.

“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain?

“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.”

Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him.

And so you do.

Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body.

They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe.

Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact.

***

“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller.

“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.”

“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.”

“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.”

“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks.

“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.”

“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces.

“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.”

“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand.

“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center.

John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far.

“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving.

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently.

You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back.

He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment.

Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task.

So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you.

Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea.

Or maybe that was their plan all along.

He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out.

Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave.

He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them.

Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you.

***

You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.

“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you.

You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking.

John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth.

You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you.

“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says.

Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up.

“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek.

Even though they're back, you still don't have them.

You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”

John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea?

Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start.

You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up?

You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door.

Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it?

You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late.

You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving.

You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement.

You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief.

“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room.

You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene.

Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly.

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure.

“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking.

“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.

He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either.

“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.”

Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”

He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before.

You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general.

Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification.

Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room.

“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be.

And here you are making things worse.

“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone.

“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.”

You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand.

Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you.

They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened.

You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds.

This is your life now. This is your new normal.

“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet.

You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again.

Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours.

It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.

***

You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket.

“Can you breathe under there?”

You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke.

“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything.

“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.”

He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal.

“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek.

You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened.

The dark thought sends a chill down your spine.

“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit.

John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it.

He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous.

You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest.

His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down.

“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”

You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control.

“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”

You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation.

At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it?

You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside.

He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting.

You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.

Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger.

The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.

The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha.

***

“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk.

“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them.

Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore.

John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him.

“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”

“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch.

“No promises.”

Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else.

He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too.

He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them.

He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again.

John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided.

Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling.

“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”

“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him.

“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”

“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes.

“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”

The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle.

Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress.

Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses.

“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long.

“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now.

He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence.

An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger.

He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.”

He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor.

“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.

“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door.

“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office.

He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time.

“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”

“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters.

“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.”

John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds.

If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives.

John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room.

Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind.

You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again?

Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded.

Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help.

Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle.

How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them?

Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet.

He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure.

John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold.

Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again.

Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress.

“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie.

Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you.

It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most.

NEXT ->

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@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce

@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood

@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #poly task force 141 #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #x reader #alpha/beta/omega #a/b/o #omegaverse

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