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novemberheart · 1 month ago

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{overview} Your pack comes home

{warnings} fem reader, cursing, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141, chapter story, short chapter, fighting, slight angst

Chapter 36 <- Chapter 37 -> Chapter 38

“John I”-

“Get in now,” he growled lowly. You swallowed, holding Vernie closer in comfort. Kyle stayed by the car opening the door for you. Both of them were being pelted by rain. You swore you could see steam coming off of them.

“Kyle,” you started. He nodded his head towards the car, urging you along. You crawled in, already shedding your backpack off. The car was warm, infested with the putrid smell of an angry alpha. The door shut behind you, Kyle and John getting in the front.

This wasn't the reunion you had expected.

You could probably say the same for them.

Your eyes locked on the rearview mirror, hoping to catch John’s gaze. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, the only sound being some labored breathing and rain snapping against the military-grade vehicle. You chewed your bottom lip, angling yourself towards Kyle.

You wanted to touch him.

You refrained.

The car came to another screeching halt, both men getting out. John opened the door for you this time. He refused to look at you. It was in the elevator when you started to crack. You resisted the urge to throw yourself at John, instead curling against the elevator wall.

“Go take a shower and get warm,” John commanded, opening the front door. Johnny and Simon were at the counter. You whimpered low in your throat, Johnny’s face curling At the sound. Simon was looking at you.

His eyes were completely unreadable beside the glimmer of dissatisfaction. He didn’t even seem angry. Maybe John was angry enough for the both of them.

You couldn’t bear it.

You latched onto Simon first, loud sobs wracking your body. He was stiff under you for a moment, before melting against you. It was biological.

“Stupid girl,” he grumbled, lips rough against your raw cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you sputtered, your claws tearing the thick layers covering his shoulder. He pulled away, his hand resting against your stomach to keep distance between the two of you.

“Go shower. We’ll talk then,” he commanded. You sniffled, nodding in agreement. You picked Vernie off the floor heading towards the bathroom to get her dried off. You shedded your clothes, opening the bathroom door just enough for Vernie to slip back through. She immediately paddled over to Johnny who hoisted her up, his nose resting against her scruff.

She smelled like you.

The bathroom door opened while you were in the shower, Kyle’s arm darting in to drop off a few clothes before closing.

They couldn’t be that mad.

Maybe the fact you had been separated so long was working in your favor.

They were sitting on the couch when you came out. It was eerily quiet, all of them sitting up straight upon your arrival.

“I want you to start with your visit to the medical center,” John spoke, leading as always. You decided to settle on the floor, the carpet plush under your knees.

“You were looking at my chip?” You questioned.

“Of course. That’s why we got it,” He replied instantly.

You had them right where you wanted.

“You had time to do that but none to call me?” You shot back. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve been marked. No effort is needed anymore,” you grumbled.

They didn’t like that.

Well, neither did you.

The hairs on your neck stood up at the sound of their low growls. It was like they did it unintentionally, immediately cutting themselves off as you shrunk back.

“Laswell had access to it,” Kyle spoke. “She’d keep us updated. We weren’t in a position to contact you,” Kyle explained. It felt condescending. Like all of them were confused as to the point you were trying to make.

“I don’t believe you,” you replied bluntly. “Before you were able to contact me every few days at least then all of a sudden that changed?” You questioned.

“Yes,” Simon interjected. “Calling you would lead to risks and put you in danger.”

“You could’ve sent a message through Laswell,” you argued.

“We couldn't,” Simon affirmed. “You're just going to have to understand that,” Simon barked, moving to a stand. Your face curled, your body following close behind. You rested your chin against your knees. John sighed, running a hand over his face.

“Why’d you go to the medical center?” John pressed. His voice was softer, resembling your alpha.

“I fell earlier this week. I thought it was okay but it started to look infected. I got it taken care of.”

They hated how monotone you sounded.

“Went by yourself?” Johnny spoke up. You knew he would have the biggest problem with you going through something like that alone.

“No one was here,” you spat back.

John stood up and Simon spun on his heels. Both of them opened their mouths to speak. John was able to get the words out faster.

“Stop actin’ like you weren't taken care of,” he growled. “Yes, you were alone, and I did everything in my power to make sure that didn't happen, but you were safe here. We made sure you had enough to last you for three times the amount of time we were supposed to be gone. It may not feel like it sometimes but everything we do is for you, even things you don't quite see,” he finished with a shaky breath.

“Really? So sitting in a hospital room alone, absolutely terrified of what's wrong with me is you taking care of me?”

“Course not,” he shot back. “I hate that you had to go through that and were without the people that are supposed to make things alright for you. But you understood what would happen if you joined this pack. I’ll put you first- no matter what- but it can't always be instant,” he spoke through a clenched jaw.

You could feel yourself softening by the minute.

You hated it.

You weren't ready to just get over it.

They had cut you off like it was nothing. Even now they sat before you showing very little signs of actually missing you. Maybe they were still angry at you for leaving the base.

“Can I go to bed now?” you asked quietly.

“No,” Simon responded. “The hell were you thinking leaving base?”

“Self sabotage?” you shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to get back at all of you for leaving me for so long. Maybe I wanted to prove to myself that I could actually do something. Maybe I wanted to see if it would make you come home,” you choked, turning your head over your shoulder.

They remained silent.

This was unbearable. Your eyes red and swollen. The sting of lemons in the air. Your knotted hair.

All because of them.

And their fucking jobs.

“Should bloody ‘retire’ after this,” John growled, taking a large puff of his cigar. Nothing sounded better at the moment. Two weeks away from you hitting him like a truck. He could retire from the field and resign himself to paperwork. He’d get the two of you a house with some land for you and Vernie to run around. Take you into town for dates. Take you out on the lake and teach you how to fish. He’d grill every night and the two of you would end each night looking at the stars.

His radio going off snapped him out of his thoughts.

Simon groaned at his headache, popping another pill in his mouth. They were some form of suppressants. It was supposed to make being away from you easier. Those who had insisted they worked obviously didn't have an omega like you.

“Right behind you,” Simon nearly chuckled.

He wasn't quite ready to retire yet. He still had some fight in him. But he had underestimated just how much you had domesticated him. The thought of stretching out in a recliner with you propped on his lap was far more compelling than this.

The betas had been worse off. Johnny had been acting like a zombie since day four. His fingers are constantly rolling the bracelet you had made him between his fingers. Kyle was just prick. Growing more and more frustrated each time he was denied access to you, whether by phone or through tracking. At least they had Laswell.

They had to persevere.

The enemy was lurking around. Waiting for one slip up. One thing to hold over their head.

What better thing than you?

“Don’t do it again,” John chided coldly. You wiped your eyes against your shoulder, nodding.

“Can I go to bed now?” You repeated, even softer than before. “All of you are tired too,” you added, already moving to a stand.

Their brows furrowed as you made your way towards your door.

Your mattress was still in John’s room from your heat. There had been no reason to move it back.

Had you moved it back?

“Fat fucking chance,” Johnny growled, connecting the distance. “Just got back from a month of hell and I’d rather die than sleep alone,” he gruffed. “That’s the only way you could get me to sleep alone,” he added. His hands found your waist, easily lifting you up. A small moan escaped you at the contact, your body begrudgingly aching for his touch. He purred roughly, his nose buried in your neck. His hand twisted the knob to your room. You hadn’t moved anything back. John breathed a sigh of relief.

“What were you going to do? Sleep on the floor?” John questioned.

“I want to be by myself,” you breathed, your legs trying to touch the ground.

“You’ve been by yourself enough,” Kyle piqued up. “In that head of yours,” he murmured the last part. You were tossed on the bed, the sheets cold and uninviting. The pit in your stomach only grew, your face hiding itself in the pillows. Johnny flopped down next to you, Kyle following suit. John and Simon remained in the doorway, Simon disappearing towards his room.

You were sandwiched between the two betas, which was all you had wanted the past few weeks. Now you wanted anything else.

“Some forced proximity will do you good,” Kyle sighed, his arm tossed over you and Johnny. You remained silent and still, breathing in the familiar scent of your nest. It smelt like you. No traces of your pack embedded within its fibers. It wasn’t theirs anymore. It was yours.

It was yours.

They were infringing on your territory.

A nasty snarl escaped you, causing both betas to take a scoot back.

“Bonbon?” Johnny breathed. The sound could’ve rivaled an alphas. Their stomach churned, John shifting on his feet. The noise echoing in his brain, his alpha on fight mode. Something had frightened you. His eyes shrunk, looking for a threat.

The air escaping his lungs when he realized.

They were the threats.

He bit the inside of his cheek, his mouth tangy from copper.

“Give ‘er space you two,” he commanded. “Now,” his voice urgent. The betas crawled out slowly, their eyes pleading- their eyes waiting. Waiting for you to whine and usher them back into bed. Pleading for you to seek comfort in them. Instead they got your back, your scent increasing in the air to drown out theirs. John grabbed them both by the arm, pulling them towards the door.

They felt a wave of relief when you stood up, face downcast as you headed towards the door. Johnny extended his arm, ready to meet you in the middle. That was quickly replaced with dread when it shut in their faces.

Hi friends! 👋See you in four days for chapter 38! As always lots of love 🧡

#novemberheart #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #poly141 #price x reader #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #poly141 x fem reader #poly 141 #poly141 x reader

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queenhunter102 · 9 months ago

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The picture they use to show you off on base

The boys from Kortac were asking the 141 if they had partners, all of them agreeing or grunting at the kid. “Come on Show us”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

the picture he shows off is one, where you are sprawled out on his chest, fast asleep, your hair a little messy from the impromptu nap, his hand was visible in the picture holding your hand, your face a little blurred.

Captain John Price

John would Show the picture where you were sat on a bench, your back twisted looking at the pond behind you, his shirt YOUR shirt, was soaked from water, and a water gun sat beside you, your hair soaked.

Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish

Johnny’s is one from your first date, the picture looking down the boot you were sitting in the back of his car, of your head tipped back with your cup in hand, a blanket over your lap, the tray of food laid out the only movie playing behind him, casting the only light into the picture

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro’s picture was of you standing on the porch of his parent’s house, your hands on your hips and a look of mock anger on your face, there was fluor covering your face as well as your jeans and t-shirt, the sunset in the background hitting you with just the perfect amount of light.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

Kyle’s is one of you on your wedding night, you laying on the bed facing away from him, your back bare, littered with bites and hickeys, lovingly placed all over your back, the sheets rustled and messy, parts of your hair sticking to your forehead and other parts sticking up.

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godihatethiswebsite · 5 months ago

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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 One - A twisted fate

I'm gonna be honest: this came to me in a tired, period induced haze and I have no idea what the hell I'm doing but the bunnies would not let me stop until I finished it. Was supposed to be a oneshot... until it wasn't XD Hoping this is just gonna be a short little pet project on the side. Lemme know if I missed any triggers!

Trigger warnings: SA (not by the 141), biting, claiming, angst, depression, hurt/no comfort, self harm

[Edit 7/16/24: updated relationship tags]

The parking lot was a certified mess to navigate, a veritable winter hellscape with the continual snowfall keeping the pavement slick and churning around spinning wheels to create a thick dirty slush. Packed cars fought for spaces towards the front of the store, wanting to avoid the headache of trudging through sloppy sleet, heavy carts overflowing with expensive gifts and last minute groceries.

Parents loaded up their trunks for their upcoming banquets. Little ones chattered in youthful exuberance about brightly wrapped packages and a jolly fat man. Festively dressed bell ringers exhausted their muscles for the cause of charity, offering joyous smiles to those passing by gracious enough to offer a token. Even six inches of heavy wet snowfall were not enough to deter shoppers from their mood. Coupled with the obnoxiously boisterous music that met you at the door it was almost impossible not to get swept up in the infectious holiday spirit.

Almost.

You hadn’t bothered joining the chaotic dominance for prime parking, opting to choose the very last row towards the street instead of wasting precious minutes yelling profanities out the window to an uppity pack trying to steal your spot. The harsh wind burned your face and nipped at your skin, pulling the woolen scarf tighter around your neck and up over your bitten nose. You avoided eye contact with the chipper lady at the front, not wanting to feel guilty for not donating when you barely had enough to scrape by as it is.

Normally you avoided venturing out this close to Christmas unless absolutely necessary. Holidays haven't meant much to you in recent years since your parent’s untimely passing and you hated the constant reminder of ‘the most wonderful time of the year’. Sure, there were still your other two alpha fathers, but they’d opted for someplace warmer in their age and visitation was difficult with your busy work schedule. Your younger brother wasn’t almost worth mentioning with his new prissy family somewhere up north. That bridge was burned the day he called you a harlot.

Needless to say, you’d become something of a grinch.

You’d been miserably sick the week prior and ate through most of your stockpile of hoarded food, not enough remaining to keep blowing off shopping with the bustling crowds. If you wanted to last past New Years then a trip into town was unavoidable.

The intense blast of hot air from the overhead heaters thawed your aching bones upon entering the store, shaking the accumulated dampness from your head and shoulders but leaving the thick cloth covering the lower half of your face. It would help you in your endeavors to get through the aisles expediently without irritating your delicate omega olfactory senses.

It got harder to distinguish the source of fragrances this time of year, when folk spent their days burrowed away from the bitter cold surrounded by the comforts of the season. A chilled glass of rich subtly spiced eggnog, smokey cedar logs crackling in the hearth, sweet woodsy pine wreaths and garlands wrapped around thick oak banisters, trees decorated with peppermint candy canes and dried strings of popcorn.

Gingerbread, mulled wine, cinnamon, orange, clove; a bountiful buffet of complementary aromas. Your own father had smelled of cranberry sauce once upon a time (it made the holidays that much harder when he was gone). And with so many people filling the space - even with the heating fans working overtime trying to filter out most of it - it could get difficult trying to figure out whether a boozy scent originated from a lovely beta or the soaked rum cake she was placing in her cart.

Honestly if it weren't for the outrageous delivery fees you would've had the groceries dropped off instead of enduring the aggressive pheromones floating through the air. Alas this was one of your few exceptions to your hermit lifestyle.

Truthfully, it wasn’t just December that had you hesitant to leave the sanctuary of your meager apartment.

For the past few years, you’d been battling a severe case of agoraphobia, something you’d been working on wholeheartedly with a therapist since the accident that made you so. It had crippled you to the point that even daring to have the blinds open on your windows sent you spiraling into that dark abyss of cackling distress, panic consuming every last ounce of breath until you found yourself minutes later curled up on the bathroom floor, lightheaded and queasy.

Nausea was a constant in your life, along with the cold sweat that had you sleeping on a towel just to keep from ruining your bedsheets. Lethargy was embedded in your muscle fibers. A searing ache in your throat. The painful deep tugging in your chest an ever present reminder of the uphill battle you fought each time you opened your crusty sleep filled eyes. Depression was your best friend, curled around you in a false sense of comfort where it was easier to slip into a maladaptive headspace than face the truth of your harsh reality.

But despite the physical manifestations of your trauma, you’d made good strides so far with your weekly sessions. It had been a difficult road getting to this point and your therapist praised you for your dedication to not letting it hinder the life you had ahead. You weren’t sure what it looked like, but you tried all the same.

Like a hound that heard you calling, that ominous presence that filled you with dread came crawling into the back of your skull, mittened hand discreetly itching at the wool around your neck and scratching the irritated skin beneath. Forcing yourself to take a few deep breaths until it settled, you grabbed one of the many baskets available and began the trek weaving down the rows of food.

Christmas was about a week away and the mobs were out in full force. Thankfully the items you were on the hunt for were not the same ingredients needed by everyone else. There was the occasional overlap of things like milk, eggs, bread, etc. But there was no call for a full sized turkey or spiraled ham; no sweet potato casserole or chocolate yule log to bake. Just some bologna, shredded cheese, a couple packs of ramen, and a few other household things here you were running low on.

Maybe for the hell of it you’d stop in the frozen section and find yourself a mini cheesecake to splurge on for when you inevitably opened that bottle of fireball sitting on the shelf come next Tuesday, forced to listen to your upstairs neighbors' horrendous attempts at Christmas caroling.

Halfway through the store, your browsing was interrupted by an alluring scent swirling somewhere nearby.

Citrusy. Acidic. Sweet. Airy.

Your scarf had slipped off your face when you bent down to grab something off the lower racks, exposing you to the freshly baked goods across the way. Someone nearby was carrying a batch of lemon cupcakes, your mouth watering as the scent invaded your tastebuds and forced a pleasant hum from the back of your throat.

Something curled in your chest like a finger beckoning forward, begging for an acknowledgement that had you standing at rapt attention. Your body seemed to move on its own, head swiveling like a rickety chair, scanning the nearby vicinity - for what, you couldn’t say. The inner omega that prowled just underneath the surface vibrated restlessly, choking back a needy whine while your eyes swept over the closest individuals. Something primal had called out to you, throwing your hormones out of whack, piecing together invisible clues so obviously standing right in front of you.

The summery concoction felt so out of place in the harsh winter months, swirling and nagging at the base of your spine, urgent and loud and taking up too much space until you felt like you could drown in its tang–

Your muscles locked in place, gaze affixed to something - someone - at the end of the aisle.

A big someone. An alpha.

And he was massive.

There was a natural musculature that came with the inherited alpha genetics. Beta’s could grow to a similar size if they worked at it, but there was a casual arrogance that was impossible to mistake with the former designation. Even still, this man towered over most others in the vicinity, lesser alphas giving a wide berth to the intimidating figure currently staring down at his phone screen. Thick grey hoodie pulled up over his head, a black military jacket layered over top. Dark wash jeans led down to warm boots hefty enough to stomp a man’s skull in. Messy dark blonde hair peeked out from up top, a black surgical mask covering the lower half of his face from view.

He couldn’t have given off any more ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibes if he had it tattooed across his forehead. There was nothing sinister about his bearing per se - one hand casually shoved into a coat pocket as he leaned back against one of the dessert displays - but there was a coiled alertness that gave you the distinct impression he was more aware of his surroundings than he led you to believe.

One thing was for certain: you were never more sure of anything in your less than perfect life that that man was your scent match.

Your lungs expanded in your chest to drink in more of his scent. Palms turned sweaty, hair on the back of your neck prickled, the weight of the basket on your arm all but forgotten. Your throat parched at the prospect of getting to shove your face against his scent gland and taste the delectable lemony goodness right off his skin.

People went lifetimes never meeting their perfect scent matches. The odds of you ever encountering one wasn’t even worth holding out hope for. Over seven billion people on the planet and you had to win an epic fucking lottery to get as lucky as you just did. Bonding ceremonies like that made the news for how rare it was. You’d never even dreamed of this happening, making peace with the idea that mates only existed in fairytale romance.

You just about dropped your groceries when he was joined shortly thereafter by another gorgeous male, slightly shorter by a few inches and not as broadly built. Rich dark skin, effortlessly cool street style, short black curls, and a dazzling pearly white smile.

This new alpha didn’t seem to flinch in the presence of the other, lemon cupcake glancing up only briefly to acknowledge the newcomer whose toasted coconut aroma barrelled right into you, colliding like a runaway freight at an unguarded intersection. Gulping down mouthfuls of air like a fish heaving on dry land, your head spun wildly at the nutty intrusion; smokey yet sweet, conjuring images of a warm evening bonfire on a lush sandy beach.

Hope bloomed in your chest something fierce and bright. Your omega preened in unbridled delight, pawing at the surface, eager to get her hands on the two beautiful specimens whose every atom screamed ‘mine’. Tears stung behind your eyes, a mixture of relief and elation, vibrant like bursting fireworks and twinkling Christmas lights.

What would you say to them? Do you approach them first? Should you wait for them to scent you back or try to pretend you didn’t smell them yet? What did their voices sound like? You could see their lips moving, even if the ones’ were hidden behind a surgical mask. Tenor, baritone, rumbly bass? What were their names? Where did they live? Was this really happening right now?!

Something twisted and gnarled sunk its claws into your subconscious, rearing its ugly head in protest at the newfound revelation, but for the first time in years you didn’t fucking care.

They were here. Your alphas. Your pack. Your salvation.

“Babes!”

Decadent chocolate floated past you, a small apology from her lips as the omega brushed by, bumping her arm against yours on the way to her intended destination. You’d hardly noticed, too caught up in your own inner monologue and girlish fantasies to barely manage a quiet ‘no worries’.

For a split second, your eyes met coconut’s beautiful luscious brown, breath catching in your throat as the object of your desire finally seemed to take note of your existence. It was like gazing into the threads of the universe, pulling taut between you in a cosmic symphony that brought your stardust back together from whence it scattered at the dawn of time.

A perfect part of an incomplete whole.

…until those shimmering umber pools shifted left, aimed at the bubbly figure headed right towards them.

Huh?

Confusion as both alphas turned their full undivided attention to the dark haired omega, holding out a box of something for them to inspect and smiling when it met their approval, an affectionate pat on the head from lemon for her success that left her beaming with pride.

That’s when you noticed it - peeking out underneath the collar of her elegant peacoat. A faint white crescent moon shaped scar, standing out against her lightly tanned skin, a matching one a little farther down.

Mating bites. A bonded omega.

And your scent matched alphas were gazing lovingly at her as if she’d hung the stars.

She was theirs. They’d already found their mate.

And it wasn’t you.

Something died in your chest, a broken scream torn silent from your soul as it condensed into a burning black hole. Agony unlike anything you’ve ever known, piercing your fragile heart and burrowing like a plague into your veins until the sickness had spread to every corner of your being. Your omega clawed at her eyes, willing the visions in front of you to vanish like a twisted mirage, begging for a bullet to erase the image of coconut planting a soft forehead kiss before wrapping an arm around her waist and turning to leave.

A dejected whine ripped from your throat as you took an unconscious step forward, hand vaguely outreached, instincts screaming to chase after them and make them choose you instead of her. But you did no such thing. You watched helplessly as the alphas who were supposedly destined for you by the stars turned their backs on your pathetic existence.

This couldn't be happening. Why was this happening?! Please turn around!!!

With the same circulating air that had guided their scents to you, the wind in the store shifted.

Lemon cupcake went ramrod straight, whipping his head around so fast you were worried it’d go flying off his shoulders. It was uncanny the way he immediately zeroed in on your poor trembling figure, standing in the middle of a crowded aisle, uncaring to the concerned glances of the other shoppers as he unknowingly ruined your life.

Recognition sparked deep behind voided irises before going completely neutral, steeling his expression but remaining unmoving as stone. It’s like the two of you were locked into place, orbiting each other by an invisible tether, watery eyes begging the ones staring back to please… please not leave you behind.

Coconut halted in his own step at the end of the aisle, sniffing the air for a moment with a furrowed brow, glancing over his shoulder at lemon, asking him something too far away to overhear. You can only assume the contents of his reply, the slightest shift of his mask the only tell he’d responded before coconut turned to face you as well.

This time garnered more of a physical reaction than the last, jaw dropping while staring just as unabashedly as his alpha companion. Eyes swept from head to toe, cataloging every minute detail the same as you’d done to them. Pupils dilated exponentially, nostrils flaring taking in the crisp pear scent you exuded, memorizing every facet and swallowing it down like a ravenous predator.

What a sight you must’ve made; eyes red and puffy from the tears that now flowed freely from suffering instead of the earlier jubilation, meek and sheepish and falling apart at the seams. What a piss poor impression to give the men fated to be your mates.

There was a brief moment where coconut seemed to match your initial energy, a flash of something saccharine and longing, only for it to collapse under the grueling weight of our fatalistic reality. There was an internal struggle in the crease of his brow, the downturned expression souring behind clenched teeth and tight fists. But more than that there was pity - pity at how you couldn’t have met sooner. Pity that you’d had to discover them like this, a woman on their arm and bite marks on her neck. Pity that they hadn’t had faith that they would be the lucky ones in a packed society.

You can make out a question on the chocolate omega’s perfectly pouty lips, trying to put the jigsaw together as to why her alphas were suddenly acting this way while glancing between the three of you.

Ignoring her, coconut takes a half step forward; you take two steps back. There’s an apology in your watery eyes, a hushed ‘merry christmas’ too strained for their ears. Your heart’s beating too loudly, your breath comes too shallow. You don’t even realize you’re sucking in heaving sobs until a gentle hand of a passerby lands on your shoulder, snapping you out of the chaos of your psyche.

You can’t take it any more; the shame, the embarrassment, the gut wrenching defeat.

The basket falls to the floor with a loud clatter, startling the people nearby who let out shrieks and gasps of surprise as the spilled contents inside break open and shatter. Eggs crack, milk pours onto the mud trekked tile, a fragile jar of strawberry jam splatters across someones pristine boots with an indignant shout.

A smooth tenor voice calls out ‘WAIT’, but you’ve already rounded the corner, barreling through the crowds of happy smiles and ecstatic giggles, too torn up inside to feel anything but desolation at the future so cruelly ripped from your fingers.

The crisp frigid air smacks the breath from your lungs, winter boots slapping on the slushy frozen ground. The squeal of brakes accompanies you as you sprint uncaringly through the bustling traffic, horns honking and voices shouting, muffled and far away as you drown in the whirlwind of your mind. It’s a miracle you’re not hit by a car, an even bigger one that you make it back to your own unscathed.

Slamming the car door shut, you smack your padded palms repeatedly against the steering wheel, banshee wailing your vocal cords raw in despair. The dark presence creeps in once more, a mocking chill down your spine as it caresses your fractured soul. The nausea comes back full force, the tugging on your chest, the burning in your throat. There’s a desperation as you tear your fitted mittens off, reaching under the woolen scarf and incessantly scratching at the irritated skin until it shreds under your nails. The pain doesn't register through your emotional torment, blocking out the inner voice until it inevitably slinks back into the shadows after its bitter lick of victory.

Panting hard, your head slumps back against the cloth headrest, stewing in the silence of misery and defeat, the distant joyful bells of Christmas the only company you have on this cold winter’s night.

It takes a few tries to fit the key in your deadbolt, blinking through tears now frozen to your eyelashes. There’s no recollection of how you even made it home in your brittle mental state. For all you knew were twelve civilians flattened like pancakes on the side of the road and a warrant out for your arrest.

Wouldn’t that be nice? A break from having to pay bills and function like an adult.

Stumbling through the door, the sparse furnishings of your minimal studio glare at you, flipping them off as you shuck the damp outer layers from your frail form. A mess to be cleaned up another day.

It wasn't just the rejection of your fated mates you were facing. It was the knowledge that your entire future had been ripped away and no amount of hot glue could piece it back together. Today’s revelation was the final nail in the coffin for the rest of your life.

The bathroom lights flickered with dying bulbs, something that had been on your shopping list tonight and was now being swept off the floor along with everything else you’d left behind. It didn’t stop you from locating the first aid kit under your sink, setting it on the ceramic counter and pulling out the well loved supplies inside.

You avoided staring at your gaunt reflection, not wanting to see the person looking back as you tugged at the thick scarf looped around your neck. The constricting material tore away with ease, falling into a discarded heap on the floor, revealing the torn mottled flesh hidden underneath.

Your own set of crescent shaped scars - where the line of your neck connected to the meat of your shoulder, long since healed over and faded with time. The area surrounding it was now swollen and inflamed, raised angry red lines dotted with scrapes like a bad case of road rash, bloody from where you'd furiously clawed at your neck on the car ride home. The only time the fucker in your head shuts up - the connection tethering you emotionally gone silent once he got tired of feeling physical pain across the bond.

Memories came unbidden. Flashes of that fateful encounter coming home late from work, dragged into a sequestered shadowy overhang a few meters down the darkened alleyway. A feral alpha hopped up on something illegal, tearing into your clothes and violating the virginal space between your thighs. The muffled cries as he overpowered you, panting through a rut with his greasy fingers shoved down your throat to silence you, gagging on the musky taste. The scream as his teeth pierced your flesh, the bond snapping taut and stealing your future from you without a thought to your own wishes.

He’d fucked you ragged that night, waking up with your cheek pressed into the damp pavement and his arm slung around your waist from hours earlier. There’d been no one to turn to, no one who would care. By law now you were his - no matter the means it had been done.

A mating bite was binding.

You’d crawled away from him, your outfit in tatters hanging loosely over your bruised form, dried blood stuck to your neck and a stabbing pain at your apex. You felt dirty and used and wanted nothing more than to strip the skin from your bones. The unconscious form of the– your alpha flopped prone on his back, crimson stains around his mouth and his flaccid cock still half out of his trousers. The pinpricks on his arm told the tale of a junkie. It’s possible he hadn’t even been fully aware of the crime he’d committed.

You didn’t stick around to find out.

But you paid for that decision harshly, opting for a life not attached to your abuser, at a steep tormented cost. Bonds weren’t meant to be strained for so long. It starts to cause negative impacts on the pair, the omega bearing the worst of the brunt. Nausea, sweating, pain, dizziness, fatigue. The chronic illnesses you endured day in and day out would stay with you for the rest of your life. So long as he was up and walking free - alive somewhere on the other side of the country - his greasy claws strumming your senses through the connection tethering you eternally.

Only a perfect scent match could override the original bite and free you from the oppressive bonds that shackled you to an invisible alpha - the last remaining hope you had at any semblance of happiness.

And you just lost it.

>> ✿ Next ✿ >>

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teletubbyinlipstick · 3 months ago

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Kiss Me More, Please.

Artemis. R.

Guys, idk what to say lmao, I've been obsessed with these men mostly thanks to @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts , the ultimate legend. This one's for the hoes fr

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a balmy Sunday, grey clouds hanging low, creating a dense fog. You had just been transferred from the states to an elite task force in Europe. Delightful. At 24, you had made a name for yourself as a sniper, over 20 kills with 6 badges of honor to show for it it was no wonder you eventually got sent to higher rankings.

You just didn't realize those rankings would be in a pack with 2 alphas and 2 betas. As an omega, it puts you on edge a bit to share such intimate spaces with alphas. But, being completely honest with yourself, you can't deny they smell heavenly. John Price, the pack alpha, had a woodsy pine, undertones of cigar, and mint made a head spinning concoction, and you embarrassingly whined when scenting him for the first time.

The other alpha, Simon Riley, was a bit…harder to gauge a reaction. He was never mean, if a bit standoffish, at the dining hall he always made your tray and carried it for you. He held doors open, a protective hand on your back when guiding you places. He smells of cedar and eucalyptus, a faint patchouli pulling through.

God, why did these alphas smell so fucking addicting.

Kyle Garrick was a sweet beta, with kind eyes, strong wide shoulders, and, in your professional opinion, one of the finest asses known to man. He was so sweet and open, he helped you put up tapestries in your room (with explicit permission as invading an omegas den could end badly) , always gave you extra snacks during training, Kyle was a true man through and through. He smelled of vetiver and amber noir. When you shoved your nose into his neck to get more, you picked up a tang…citrus.

It wasn't your fault you usually ended up having to change your panties after hanging with him.

Johnny MacTavish was the last one you met, a strong level-headed beta with a feisty sense of humor and a very good shoulder to cry on. He might've been the last to meet you but certainly the one you bonded to the quickest. He liked to sling you over his shoulder and take off through the training post your delighted giggles chiming through the wind. He was your go-to movie cuddle buddy, and he always had an open space on his lap for you. He smelled so fucking divine bonsai, cloves and an allspice lavender, anytime youre within his vicinity it usually ends with you in his lap, drunk of his scent and purring loudly. The smell of lilies, cinnamon, and chamomile wafted from you; it was soothing and the answering rumble from the alphas chest had your omega preening.

It's hard not to crush on him.

It's been almost 2 and a half months since you arrived. Tf141 made it very clear their intentions on you by week 3, declaring they wanted you as their pack omega. They wanted to spoil you, protect you, and provide for you. The sudden declaration was sprang up by Johnny over a random breakfast at the table. You had gazed wide-eyed at all of them, almost like a deer in headlights.

“I...um…I need to think about it…” Truthfully, you really didn't. You knew you wanted them. All of them. It was nerve-wracking you were younger, a bit more inexperienced in life and romance. What if they ended up hating you? Or being annoyed at your unknowing? What if you gave them your heart so beautifully beating, and they gave it right back, stabbed through with 4 shiny knives.

You're unsure if you could live with that.

So going on week 6 of being on task force, week 3 of confession, you have yet to give them an answer. It was crude of you, you knew it. But it was hard to form the words, hard to speak when your heart swelled to your throat and lodged itself there. Leaving you breathless and fumbling; spewing out nonsense in hopes of adoration.

Right now was one of those moments you were sitting across from Price, fiddling with your fingers as you both gazed at each other in silence. You knew why you were called in here. You knew they wanted-deserved- an answer.

"Come here, y/n." Your breath hitched, oh god, his voice. Deep, barretoned words woven with an authoritative spike. You felt too hot, too seen under his intense gaze. Swallowing the lump forming, you gathered what small ounces of courage you could. Straightening your spine under the alpha's eyes.

"No." It came out more steady than you expected, and if the raised eyebrow of John was anything to go by, he wasn't expecting the answer. It emboldened you, made you feel taller, bigger than the man in front of you almost.

"No?"

"No. You come to me…please” And oh boy, did he take it as the invitation it was, eyes twinkling in amusement, something darker brewing in them. He pushed himself up from the chair, walking round the desk to stand directly in front of you. Your head tilted back to stare up at him, mouth parted as the courage left you in a swoop.

John's hand grazed across your jaw, thumb trailing down your throat before cupping your cheek. It was nerve-wracking, being in the presence of a God with nothing but mortal thoughts to shield you.

"The last time I was told no, I tore the man's throat out where he stood." A gasp left you, tensing just slightly under his palm. Was it a threat? Was it even true?? Maybe you read the room wrong. Maybe he was sizing you up. It's not like you had to wonder long. He tutted, pulling you from your thoughts as his other hand swept stray hair from your face.

"I find you enrapturing, Y/N we all do. You have bewitched us. And I would let you say anything to me. Anything. And now I'm asking you to please say how you feel. You know we want you, we see you as our omega. But we want you to want us. Do you?” You didn't know what to say, speechless in the hands of a prophet. The way he spoke was hypnotizing, and you leaned into his touch, hands grazing up his muscular chest until you cupped his jaw on both sides. Tugging him down, and my my my did he bend to your whims. Noses bumped together, breaths mingling, and you looked into his eyes.

"I-I…want you guys too. I want to be the pack omega” A stuttered breath in from the alpha in front of you had that flame of courage coming back full force. You gripped him harder, tilting your child up.

“Kiss me, please." A huff of air, and he was on you, kissing you so sensually, so sweetly you wondered if you would drown in its bliss. It was as cliche as every romance book ever said, wanton and needy with touch of his lips on yours. And God wasn't it unfair? To have euphoria in human form, holding you, kissing you like you hung the stars.

And when he finally pulled back, both of you panting, foreheads pressing against each other. You only had one thought.

"Kiss me more, please."

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ramvur · 1 year ago

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a little angst

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moody-alcoholic · 2 months ago

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These Violent Delights

Chapter 5 - Once Upon A Playground Rainy

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe. 6.6k words. Omega's trying to be helpful for better and for worse.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (claiming, heats), Gaslighting, medical procedures, bullying, angst.

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

You make it to the lab just after 6. The barracks were quiet when you left but the base is busy with activity. You feel like you’re breaking some kind of rule sneaking around. You don’t need to sneak, Dr. Piper knows about this. The lab is quiet too, there is only Dr. Miller sat in his usual spot at the desk. He has goggles on as he looks at something in a jar.

“Hey, glad you remembered, I was worried you weren't going to show.” He smiles at you looking up from whatever he’s working on.

“I want to help them, I won't forget,” you say walking over to him. He takes his goggles off and pushes back from the table. You stop at the bottom of the steps.

“Come on, we need to go to the medical room,” he says walking over to you. You both make your way up to the room which has a keycode on it now. He knows the code, Dr. Piper must trust him. You automatically sit up on the exam bed when you go in.

“Is Dr. Piper coming?” you ask as you watch him clean his hands.

“I told her she could sit this one out, she needs all the rest she can get.” He smiles at you as he drys his hands off. Well that’s true. She’s always working so late you barely get to see her.

“So what are we doing?” you ask. His scent is strong in the air now and you try not to let it go to your head.

“I need to take some blood, and I have something for you to take,” he says, taking things out of the cupboard.

“What is it?” you ask watching him organize everything.

“The drug? The same you had last time,” he says looking at you confused.

“Last time?” you ask, you remember him giving you 2 injections.

“Yeah, do you not remember?” he says, coming over to you with the tray of supplies. You try to think back, but you can’t remember. You remember the conversion about when he left the bunker.

“Do you normally have trouble remembering things?” he asks. You shake your head, why can’t you remember ?

“Good, we wouldn’t want to give Dr. Montgomery more to worry about, would we.”

“No,” you say, rolling your sleeve up so he can take some blood. When he’s done he comes back over with a syringe. You’re too scared to ask what it is now. You should remember, you’re sure he told you.

“It’s for the hormone blocker right?” you ask, pulling the rest of your sleeve up.

“There you go, you’re not losing the plot.” He smiles, you smile back. It’s for Simon, it’s the hormone blocker of course.

“So are you ready for your heat?” he asks as he finishes up.

“I guess so, I still have a few weeks. Do you think the blocker will be ready by then?” you ask, pulling your sleeve down.

“I hope so. I’m working as hard as I can. You doing this is a big help,” he says, throwing everything in the trash. You hop off the bed.

“Wait, you should lay down for a bit, 15 minutes. Wouldn’t want you passing out on the way back to the barracks would we?” You shake your head getting back up on the bed. He comes round and raises the back for you so you can lean back a bit.

“Why would I pass out? I didn’t last time,” you say.

“No but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I wouldn't want you getting hurt,” he says, you sigh, relaxing back. It’s the first time you’ve been up this early in days and with the sleepless nights, it’s not long before you’re starting to doze off. The room is warm and the exam table is surprisingly comfy.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you’re woken by the room door opening.

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Miller asks. You blink away the sleep in your eyes. You move off the bed.

“Fine, tired.” He smiles and you follow him out of the room.

“Take it easy, okay, we don’t need to give Dr. Montgomery or Captain Price anything to worry about, okay?” You nod blindly at him as you leave. You’re so tired, you want to get back into bed. The walk back over to the barracks is nice. The morning sun lights up the dew-covered grass, and there’s a low fog making the forest look like something out of a picture book. You let the smell of pine fill your nose before you walk back into the barracks.

“Hey, where have you been so early?” Johnny asks from the table, you look up at the clock it’s already almost 7. You didn’t think anyone would be up this early. Shit , you don’t know what to say.

“Dr. Piper. I needed to see her about something,” you lie. You take another step towards the kitchen. There’s no way he can tell you’re lying. You blow out the nerves.

Dr. Piper comes into the kitchen. You freeze watching as Johnny looks at her then back at you, confused. She goes over to the kettle while you’re just standing there trying to decide what to do.

“Dr. Piper, I need to talk to you,” you say quickly, before Johnny can get a word in. She turns with a mug in her hand, and she frowns at you.

“Okay.” She puts the mug down and starts to head back to her room. You quickly follow after her.

“I thought you were at the lab,” you say loud enough for Johnny to hear.

“You were at the lab? Is everything okay?” she asks as you walk into her room. She closes the door behind you.

“Yeah, just the sleeping pills. I think they’re a good idea,” you say.

“Okay, I’ll get that sorted,” she says. You sigh. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else?”

“No, I’m just tired,” you say. You want to get out of the room now.

“We still need to talk with Captain Price about your heat.” You feel yourself blushing, you’re embarrassed all of a sudden.

“We kissed,” you blurt out. “Me and John.”

Dr. Piper looks a little shocked.

“How do you feel about that?” she asks.

“I don’t know, it was nice, I trust him.” You look at her as she takes a step towards you.

“I mean we’re going to have sex in a few weeks, I feel like a kiss is nothing really.”

“That’s true but heats are very different from something romantic like a kiss,” she says. Romantic?

“I like John,” you say.

“That’s good, and he’s a good alpha. It’s okay to feel all these new emotions. This heat will be very different from the past ones. It’s good that we’re talking, and you know my door is always open,” she says, resting her hand on your shoulder.

You nod, smiling at her. She’s right, this time it will be different. You’re going to be getting claimed for one, not to mention you’ll actually be with someone you trust. It’s different now that you’re in a pack. A device beeps on Dr. Piper's waist. She drops her hand looking at it.

“Crap, I have to go. I’ll sort out the meeting with John okay?” she says as you walk out the room. You nod at her and she smiles, rushing down the corridor. Johnny steps round the corner with a bowl in his hand and a spoon in his mouth. He gives you a look. You’re not quite sure what it means, so you go into your room, closing the door behind you. You don’t need anyone to worry. You just need to be a good omega.

A week goes by and Dr. Piper still hasn’t set up the meeting. She’s been busy: new scientists show up—normal people, not people who worked for the professor. They don’t look at you as weird as the regular soldiers. They look at you more in awe, like you’re something to be studied.

Your visits with Dr. Miller have been going well. He keeps you up to date on the progress, and how it’s going. He thinks he's perfected the hormone blocker but the true test will come during your heat. You’ve been tired, the early mornings mixed with the restless nights have been hitting you hard.

You haven’t seen much of John or Simon, but Johnny and Kyle have been around and you’ve been eating lunch or dinner with them which is nice. Not so many people stare and talk when you’re with them. You really want to spend some time with John and maybe go for a walk again.

It surprises you when John asks if you could help with a training exercise. You don’t mind, in fact you were more than happy to help. You’ve not really seen them in action apart from when they rescued you. You weren't really paying attention to what was going on then, just hoping you made the right choice to trust them.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” John says, getting everyone’s attention. You’re standing next to him and everyone else is lined up with their backs to what looks like an empty abandoned building. Everyone is dressed head to toe in gear with massive weapons swung over their shoulders. The sight of them makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck.

“So now that we have these heightened senses, we need to train them. Dr. Montgomery suggested this. Since omegas give off the strongest scent, she’s going to hide somewhere in the building and it’ll be your job to find her and bring her out without using your eyes.” John picks up a bag by his feet throwing strips of black cloth to them all.

“We’re playing hide and seek with blindfolds?” Johnny asks as he catches one.

“Yes, and the quicker you find her the less drills we have to do. You’ve all felt the heightened sensations, your sight, hearing, smell. That’s a benefit of the formula. It’s the main reason Professor Hale was trying to perfect it, so that the US could have an army of ‘super soldiers,’” John explains.

“So we’re super soldiers now?” Johnny asks, tying the black strip round his forehead.

“The only thing super about you is how much you can run that mouth of yours MacTavish,” Simon says. You smile as you watch him secure his blindfold on his forehead.

John turns to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Okay, so you’re going to hide anywhere you want inside the building. Make it as hard as you want, just don’t get yourself hurt.” You nod.

“What about you, are you going to be looking for me too?” He shakes his head

“Actually alphas are the worst at detecting scent so maybe you would need more training,” you say looking at John. You feel yourself blushing as you hear Johnny chuckle.

“Someone needs to watch to make sure you’re not cheating.” Kyle nudges Johnny, who starts to protest and you see John shake his head.

“Go on then, go hide. We'll give you a few minutes,” John says to you, nodding towards the building. You smile at him and walk past them all into the entrance of the building. There's rubble everywhere and before you’ve really even made it in you're tripping over stones. You go upstairs walking down one of the empty halls looking in each room seeing if there’s anything you could hide behind or inside of. John did say make it hard, but you’re not sure what that means for 3 trained soldiers.

You can hear them talking outside. You know for sure they can hear you moving around no matter how hard you try to avoid making noise. You come to the end of the long building. There is another staircase down but you want to stay upstairs. You duck into one of the rooms that has boards on the top half of the door. There’s a desk in the room. Better than nothing.

You sit down. This is fun, and you’re helping them. You hear John tell them they can go and you feel nervous all of a sudden. Your adrenaline spikes at the thought of you being hunted. You keep still, but you project your scent. You want to help them a little bit. You can hear them downstairs, talking and moving around.

“So we’re like sniffer dogs?” Johnny asks. You hear Simon sigh. They’re under you now, you think. Maybe they’re confused. You stop projecting your scent.

“What dog would you be if you could be a dog?” Johnny asks. The thought of Johnny as a dog makes you giggle.

“Shush!” They stop. You slap your hand over your mouth realizing what you’ve done. You can’t help but smile though. You hear them moving a little quicker now. It sounds like they’re heading to the staircase at the end of the hall. It takes them a while to get up the steps. You contemplate moving but decide to stay. If you so much as move the stones around you, they’ll be able to hear it.

When you can see their shadows in the hallway you hold your breath. You’re not sure why. Even an alpha would be able to smell you this close. They’re quiet on their feet, sure of their movements even with the blindfolds. You see Simon first. You can only see the bottom half of his body as he turns to face the room, his hands feeling the boards.

“Duck into this room on the right,” Simon says. Shit, it’s over, they’ve found you. Simon walks over to you and you stand up putting your arm out to stop him before he walks into you. He pulls the blindfold off and you smile at him.

“Found her,” Simon says as Johnny and Kyle stumble in pulling their blindfolds up. You walk out with them and Johnny wraps his arm around your shoulders. You feel like if you'd let him he would have carried you out of the building like some trophy they’ve just won. When you get back out John seems happy, nodding and smiling before asking everyone to do it again. You try to pick a harder spot but the place is pretty barren. You start just trying to avoid them, moving from room to room when they get close to you.

One of the runs you accidentally bump into Kyle when they split up. They’re too good at this, always finding you within at least 10 minutes which makes John happy. You’re not sure how long you’ve been doing this for but it must be midday at least. The sun is high in the sky and it's unusually warm. Johnny has his arm around you again as you walk out the building. You look up at the sky when you leave, you're bringing your hand up to block the sun when everything goes fuzzy. You’re overcome with dizziness and then everything goes black.

“Hey, can you hear us lass?” That’s Johnny’s voice. You open your eyes. The sun is bright in the sky. Johnny is leaning over you, his hands shaking your shoulders. You feel sick and lightheaded. You should have eaten something this morning. You hear more voices around you as you start to sit up, what happened? The last thing you remember was stepping out of the building.

“Don’t move, let's wait for the doctor to come.” Johnny pushes your shoulder back down. Your fingers are tingling as your senses start to come back. All you can smell is beta in the air, it’s calming. You look around seeing John come over to you. His alpha is strong, overwhelming the beta in the air. Now you really don’t want to be laid on the floor.

“I’m fine,” you say, trying to sit up again. You don’t want to be a bother. You remember what Dr. Miller told you. Dr. Piper and John are always so busy. They don’t have time for you to be forgetting to eat.

“You’re not fine, stay there.” John’s voice is commanding. It makes hairs stand up on the back of your neck. He’s worried. Johnny lets you sit up supporting your shoulders. You watch as Simon walks back over to John and you can see Kyle walking over with Dr. Piper. You don’t need her—you’re fine, you just pushed yourself too much and skipped breakfast. Dr. Piper kneels down putting a bag on the floor next to you.

“I’m fine,” you repeat. She sighs, opening the bag and taking out the blood pressure cuff. You stare at her. You’ve been through this a million times before.

“How do you feel? You’re not allowed to say fine,” she asks as she swabs your forehead with a thermometer.

“Lightheaded,” you admit, “but it’s going away.”

“Blood pressure is low. When was the last time you ate?” she asks. You look up at John.

“I had breakfast,” you lie.

“Yeah? We’re going to check that theory,” she says, reaching out for your hand. You sigh, letting her prick your finger. She puts it in the machine as you wait for the reading.

“Low blood pressure, oh look at that! Low blood sugar,” she says, standing up and putting everything away. You look up at John. His arms are crossed, and you can’t tell if he looks angry or worried. You’ve been a bad omega. You should have eaten breakfast.

“You know you can’t be doing this so close to your heat. You need to eat 3 meals a day,” she says, helping you up to your feet. You nod, keeping your eyes on John. He’s disappointed at least.

“Simon’s going to take you back to the barracks,” John says. You look over at Simon. You can never tell what he’s thinking, especially with the mask. You don’t want to go with Simon, but you don’t want to upset John more than you already have. You nod following him as he walks away. You feel sick. You shouldn’t have been projecting your scent so much. If you had given them a challenge then you wouldn’t be as tired. You walk in silence back to the barracks. You feel like a kid that’s done something wrong. When you get through the door he pulls out one of the chairs from the table.

“Sit,” he says, going into the kitchen. You watch as Simon waits for the kettle to boil. You’re nervous, and you don’t know why.

“Milk and sugar?” he asks, looking over at you. You nod. It feels like the most he’s ever spoken to you. You watch as he makes tea. You think this is the most you’ve ever seen him do, too. He comes over placing a mug down. You smile, pulling it into your hands, warming them as he sits next to you. You swallow the nerves away. His alpha is strong in the air for a second before it completely evaporates. You’re not sure what to say to him. You don’t know if he will start the conversation or not.

“Do you like the book?” he asks, nodding at the copy of Alice in Wonderland next to you.

“Dr. Piper gave it to me. I used to read a lot in the bunker,” you say. “Have you read it? It’s about this girl called Alice, she falls down a rabbit hole. I like the cat. I like all the animals actually.” You look up at him.

“I’ve read it before. Drink your tea,” he says. You look down at the cup. You didn’t really think he was the type of person to read. You sip the tea, it’s almost too sweet for you but you don’t want to complain.

“What kind of books did you have in the bunker?” he asks.

“Just story books. Have you read Charlotte's Web?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I know there’s a film though.”

You almost spit your tea out.

“There’s a film?”

“Yeah. There’s an Alice in Wonderland film too,” he says. You smile.

“Do you think we could watch them?” you ask, looking over at the TV.

“Yeah, maybe,” he says. You take another sip of the tea.

“Do you have a family back in the UK?” Maybe now is better than ever to get some information out of him. Get to know him better.

“Yeah.”

“Do you miss them?” you ask. You’re trying to read his eyes at least, since he does such a good job at protecting his scent. He’s almost as good as a trained beta. He’s one of those people who’s just a natural at it.

“Every day.” There’s sadness in the air now. He turns away from you, upset. You sip your tea again.

“How old were you when Professor Hale took you away?” You’re surprised by the question.

“I don’t know, 13, I think. My memories before that time, they’re not really there.” You don’t know how to word it. All you could remember from before was your mother and now you’ve learned that was just a memory planted in your head.

“What do you remember?” he asks, looking back at you.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to believe anymore.” You shrug.

“It must have been hard, being alone.”

“I’m used to it. I was never really alone. Dr. Piper was always around, or the Professor,” you say, watching his eyes, trying to see if there’s any change. You take in a deep breath but all you can smell is the tea.

“Do you have any siblings?” you ask. There’s the smell of sadness again. It’s overwhelming. You feel like you can see a change in his eyes, or maybe you’re looking too hard.

“Why do you care?” he asks, his voice a little harsher than he meant it to be.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to get to know you.” You sigh looking into your tea. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he doesn’t want to get to know you.

“Did you ever go to school?” he asks. You look up at him. He seems more relaxed now. You try to think back, you don’t remember much about school or anything before the bunker.

“All I remember is what I learned from the bunker. Dr. Piper would teach me things. I don’t remember ever going to school.” You almost laugh at the question. “What about you? Did you go to school?”

“Yeah. Whenever it rains I think of school,” he says.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“I like the rain.” You smile, sipping the tea. You look out the window. It’s bright out. For once, the skies are clear. You hear his chair scraping as he gets up. You see him disappear around the corner down the hallway, and you hear a door open. He comes back around to the table placing a book down.

“Catch-22?”

“It might not be your style, but if you’re bored of Alice in Wonderland, it might be a good change.”

“What is it about?”

“The war. Like I said, you might not like it.” He shrugs as he sits back down.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. Thank you.” You smile at him. You wish you could see what he was thinking.

“Could get you more if you wanted?”

“Yeah, that would be nice. You don’t have to, though, I know you’re busy. You and John have other things to worry about.”

“Price likes you, I'm sure he’d sort something out,” he says.

“Do you like me?” you ask. He doesn’t say anything, and his eyes don't tell you what he’s thinking. You can’t help but feel like he doesn’t want to answer.

The door to the building opens and you turn to see John walk in. You don’t know why that makes you blush.

“Soap and Gaz are in the pit. Go.” Simon gets up. Your eyes follow him as leaves. John comes to sit next to you.

“So why have you been skipping meals?” he asks. You look down at your empty mug.

“I don’t know, I guess I haven’t been paying attention. Sorry.”

“You need to take better care of yourself.” He sighs. You look up at him nodding.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, but from now on someone will be coming with you for meals. Lunch and dinner,” he says. You sigh, slouching down in the chair. It’s okay. You don’t really mind. You’ve missed having someone around for lunch. You nod at him.

“I don’t think Simon likes me,” you say, gripping the book.

“Simon’s a tough nut to crack. Don’t take it personally.” You nod. You wish he would like you.

“You would let us know if anything is wrong right? If you don’t want to talk to any of us, you can always talk to Dr. Montgomery,” he says.

“I know I'm sorry, I’ll do better,” you say. He smiles.

“Come on, let's get an early lunch then you can take a nap. You probably need it.” He gets up and you smile following after him.

Another week goes by. There’s more training with everyone, the same as before with them having to find you blindfolded. They’re getting better and you don’t even need to project your scent any more. John says maybe he’ll look at going somewhere outside the base for drills. Better practice, as you can get more distance from them. Regardless, it sounds like fun. You’re sitting in the lab. It's the weekend so most of the scientists go home. It’s just Dr. Miller and Dr. Piper. Although Dr. Piper is out, it's just you.

“How have you been feeling this week? No more incidents?” he asks. You shake your head.

“How many of these are left?” you ask as you roll your sleeve up.

“A few more, then we can move on to stage 2,” he says. You frown, for some reason it hurts this time.

“Stage 2?”

“You haven’t been listening have you?” he says frowning as you pull your sleeve back down.

“Sorry, I know I’ve been tired lately, thanks to the early mornings. It’s hard to sleep at night.” You jump off the stool, looking towards Dr. Piper's office. You wish you could take the sleeping pills, but they make you feel sick.

“You should start going to bed earlier. Try herbal tea.” You nod at him. Maybe that’s a good idea.

“Stage 2, that will come when you’re in heat. When do you think that will be?” he asks. You count in your head.

“Next week, maybe the week after. It doesn’t really work on a timer,” you say.

“You worried about John’s rut? Alphas can get aggressive,” he says. You feel yourself blushing.

“No, I trust John,” you say, pulling your jacket on. It’s not like you can do anything.

“Well, if you need anything you know where to find me,” he says, turning back to his work. You nod walking out of the lab back to the barracks. It looks like it might rain. You like the rain, the idea of curling up in your nest with a book while you listen to the rain sounds like the best idea right now. When you make it to the barracks you bump into Johnny.

“Lunch?” he asks. You nod, looking at the time. It’s almost 1 o’clock. His arm wraps around your shoulders.

“What have you been doing today?” he asks.

“Nothing really,” you say. There hasn’t been any training today, you’ve been stuck inside all day.

“I have a story to tell you about Gaz slapping a drill sergeant's ass,” he says. You chuckle. “See he thought it was Si’s ass, until the guy turned around.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t you who did that?” You laugh as you walk into the mess hall.

“Why, what did you hear?” You smile, picking up a tray.

“Sounds like something you’d do, not Kyle.”

“You don’t know what I'm capable of.” He nudges you. You fill your plate up with food and two puddings, it’s chocolate again. You both make your way over to an empty table. There’s a few people around but not as many as usual. You keep making small talk with Johnny. If there is something Johnny is always good at, it’s filling dead air. You never feel alone when he’s around. Halfway through eating a new group of soldiers comes through and for some reason they make you nervous, taking seats at a table behind Johnny.

“Is that her?”

You feel sick. The pit in your stomach isn’t going away. You can hear them laughing, you know Johnny can hear them too he sits up in his seat.

“Is this why you’ve been skipping meals?” He asks, you shake your head pushing the food around your plate. You don’t want to eat anymore, not even the pudding. You feel embarrassed. You wish you could just curl up in a ball and vanish.

“Would you?”

“What risk discharge for her?”

“No, she needs bigger tits.”

“Bigger ass too.”

Laughter follows. You really try to ignore it, digging your nails into your palm. It's almost like you can only hear that table now, the group of 5. What if you’re not good enough? What if John thinks these things? If there was another omega would he pick her? You don’t remember standing up or running past them, you just feel the cool outside air hit your face.

You don’t wait for Johnny, just rush over to the barracks. Your head is pounding as you burst through the door rushing straight over to John’s office. You’re ignoring everything around you, tears streaming down your face as you knock on his door. You barely even hear him say come in before you open the door. John looks over his desk at you, as soon as he sees you he gets out his chair.

“What's wrong? Where’s Johnny?” he asks, putting his hands on your shoulders trying to look you in your eyes. You can't talk, you're too worked up, you're just sobbing in front of him. This isn’t helping, he probably thinks you're being so stupid. You hear people talking behind you as John squeezes your shoulders. His alpha is strong in the air. You're making him upset. You’re being a bad omega.

“What happened?” John asks someone behind you.

“Some rookies in the mess saying some not nice things.” It’s Johnny. John sighs, pulling you onto his chest wrapping his arms around you.

“Take Gaz, get me names,” he says. You don't hear Johnny reply but you hear the door close.

“Come sit,” he says, guiding you over to the sofa. You sit down as he reaches over to his desk pulling out some tissues.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffle taking the tissue.

“No need to be sorry. What did they say?” he asks, his scent still strong in the air. You turn to look at him trying to compose yourself. Don’t be a problem.

“Nothing, just stupid stuff,” you say, wiping your nose.

“Come on, let's go for a walk,” he says, offering his hand. You nod, brushing the tears away and taking his hand. He walks you back out the base to the dirt path just like last time. As soon as the base is outside of earshot you let out a long breath and breathe in the forest air. It smells of pine and damp wood. Now that you know there’s a lake here your ears are hypertuned to pick up the sounds of the lapping water. John's hand comes to the small of your back.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around much,” he says.

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy,” you reply.

“You’ve been doing a great job helping out with all the training,” he says. You smile.

“It’s been fun.” You’re not sure what to say. You don’t want to think about training right now, you don’t want to think about the work with Dr. Miller. You like spending time alone with John. You lean against him, his scent filling your nose as you walk around to the lake. You smile, closing your eyes letting the breeze wash over you. You’ve calmed down now, the whole thing just felt like you’ve blown it out of proportion. John moves behind you wrapping his arms around you, his hands resting on your hips. Pulling you up against him, you can feel his breathing as you lean back. His scent is calming, it complements the smells of nature.

“Do you want to talk?” he asks after a few minutes. You let out a breath. Your eyes are still stinging from the crying.

“If there was another omega, a better omega, would you rather be with her than me?” you ask him.

“What? No, why would you even think that?”

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the perfect omega,” you say, digging your shoe in the dirt.

He turns you in his arms so you’re face to face. “All I want is for you to be safe and happy. To do that we need to communicate,” he says. His eyes are kind. You don’t want to lie to him, but you want to upset him even less. You breathe in his scent letting it calm you.

“I am happy,” you say. One of his hands comes to your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He hums, looking around your face. You smile up at him. He leans down and kisses you. You close your eyes, sinking into the kiss, letting his tongue press against yours. You don’t know if you’re getting any better at kissing or not, but he doesn’t complain. His hands running down your body pulling you closer to him. He pulls away, one of his hands brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re so beautiful, my beautiful perfect omega.” His thumb brushes your cheek. You smile at the praise, it makes you feel all warm inside. It’s high praise from your alpha, you can tell he means it. It makes you project your scent more for him. You can’t help it, the sweet smell of strawberries cutting through the smells of nature. He smiles back at you as his nostrils flare, breathing you in.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask, nerves welling up inside you, your mouth feeling suddenly dry. He nods.

“I want to have sex with you before my heat.” You feel yourself blushing. He smiles at you, kissing your forehead.

"Are you sure?” he asks. You look up in his eyes, his beautiful kind eyes. You nod.

“Okay then, we can figure something out.” You press your face into his chest wrapping your arms around him.

“Are you worried about your heat?” he asks. You pull your head out his chest so you can look at him.

“I’m not worried. I know this time will be different, but I trust you.” You smile at him. You’ve never had someone you trust with you during your heats. You know people have been involved, and you’re lucky you remember so little. It’s not that you don’t remember it. It’s suppressed memories, or at least that’s what Dr. Piper calls them. It’s the nightmares that get you the most, reminding you were just a plaything for the Professor.

“Are you nervous?” you ask.

“No,” he says. It’s what you needed to hear. You’re not worried, he’s not worried. He’s your alpha and he’ll take care of you. You step up on your toes and kiss him. His arms pull you closer to him. There’s a cold breeze that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You can feel the first drops of rain. You don’t care, you want to stay in this forest forever with John.

“C’mon we should get back before it rains,” he says, breaking away from the kiss.

“I like the rain,” you say, keeping your arms wrapped around him. He chuckles, prying your arms off him. You move to the side of him gripping his waist.

“John, what made you agree to claim me?” you ask as you make it back to the dirt road.

“There's a connection I can’t explain. I know you and Dr. Montgomery say it's just biology but I think there's something more.”

“Really?”

“If it was just chemicals then it would be more like a need, something my body is missing. It doesn’t explain other feelings like, love or—”

“Love?” You stop your fingers gripping his waist. You look up at him, confused. Love?

“Love, patience, caring.” He turns to look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“How do you know it’s love and not just chemicals?” you ask. You don’t know what love feels like or what it smells like. You try to smell the air but you just smell nature, pine, damp wood and hints of wild herbs in the air. You can smell John’s scent too but nothing new. You don’t even know if you can feel love.

“Love is something you feel, it’s this feeling of wanting to care for someone, maybe more than you want to care for yourself. I think it’s more than just chemicals.” He pulls you closer to him and you keep walking.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt that before,” you admit. You think about Dr. Piper, and the Professor. The only two people who have been constants in your life, always there for good and for bad. Love for you is just something you’ve read about in books. People do stupid things for the people they love. You look up at John, his arm wrapped around your waist. He’s a good alpha, you want to believe it's more than just chemicals, more than just the biological need to find and mate with an omega.

You wish you knew what love feels like so you would know too, if it was more than chemicals. You walk back in silence. You like spending time with John, you like feeling his hands on you, his touch, his kisses. Maybe it is love. You shake the thought away as you walk up to the barracks. When you walk into the building you see Kate, you almost don’t recognise her with her back turned but as soon as the door opens she’s looking at you both.

“Where have you been!” she snaps. She doesn’t sound angry, just worried.

“Kate? I thought you were supposed to be in Langley?” he says, his arm dropping from your back. She looks over at you then at John. You see Kyle and Johnny stood behind her, they look worried too. Their scent is thick in the air and it's making you nervous.

“It’s Shepard, he’s on his way here. He knows about the omega and he wants to take her.” She says. You’re holding your breath.

“What? Take her where?” John asks.

“Back to Professor Hale.”

Next Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui My rock rememberwren <3

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ghouljams · 1 month ago

Note

supervisor: we are not gonna test their gd sperm count

Site Memo from ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛:

Stop asking if you can clean up the ejaculate in SCP-141-C's containment unit. I know you freaks aren't trying to help out the janitorial staff.

Messages from now defunct slack channel "I want to [redacted] the anomalies":

⬛⬛⬛⬛: Oh no I'm on SCP-141 supervision duty :( whatever will I do :( ⬛⬛⬛⬛: Oh no it's 141-C :( he'll probably jack off :( oh no :( ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Girl if you don't stfu ⬛⬛⬛⬛: >:) ⬛⬛⬛: I've never been so jealous in my life. ⬛⬛: Test his sperm count I want that man's babies. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: lmao ⬛⬛⬛: lmao ⬛⬛⬛⬛: Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ says I'm not allowed in containment. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Booooooo ⬛⬛⬛: Boo Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ boo ⬛⬛: At least Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ lets us talk to 141-A. ⬛⬛⬛⬛: Lucky :( ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Who's on 141-D(addy) tonight. ⬛⬛: You gotta stop calling him that I almost put that in my notes yesterday. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: I'll stop calling him that when he stops looking like that. ⬛⬛⬛⬛: What does 141-D even do all day? ⬛⬛: Nothing. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Make panties drop. ⬛⬛: He's literally so boring, he just sits there. He's working ⬛⬛⬛⬛: ??? ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: What the fuck is that? Hello. ⬛⬛: Hello???? ⬛⬛⬛: Slack is glitching hold on. You all seem rather useful. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Just reboot the channel. ⬛⬛⬛: So annoying when it does this. Oh Gaz is going to love this.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #scp au #scp!tf 141 #a = price #b = gaz #c = soap #d = ghost #kate laswell #e = laswell #go for watcher :)

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soaps-mohawk · 2 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 38: Shattered

Summary: Things aren't okay. They never will be again.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,743 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, medical stuff, injuries, brief description of a possible death, language, mention of weight loss due to medical stuff, emotionally heavy chapter (again), slightly graphic imagery, illness, so much crying

A/N: I just want to make something very clear here since there's a scene in this chapter that might be interpreted this way, but 'mega is NOT suicidal. That's not something that's going to be in this fic, and neither is self-harm. It would have been well warned in advance if that was going to be something coming up in this fic. She's struggling a lot, but she's not suicidal, she's not going to become suicidal, nor will she self-harm even off screen. So don't worry. That's not what's happening. It won't be happening.

Okay, just wanted to make that clear. Enjoy the suffering!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

The scream slices through the silence seconds before chaos erupts.

John is on his feet and out the door before Kyle is even fully awake. Simon is on his heels down the stairs, the two of them nearly colliding in their rush. His heart thuds in his chest as he sees your door open, the overhead light on. It’s bad. It must be bad if the overhead light is on. You hate the overhead light.

He barrels in like a bull, ready to fight. The screaming has stopped, but it still rings in his ears. The fear, the panic. Something has happened. Someone got in. He should have made you take the room upstairs. He should have put a barrier between you and the door. That window. Someone could break that easily and grab you before they even noticed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

The screaming has stopped, but gut-wrenching sobs have taken its place. He takes a moment to scan the room. Nothing is misplaced. The window isn’t broken, there’s no bodies, no one that shouldn’t be in there.

“You’re okay.” Christine soothes you as you sob. “It was just a nightmare.”

The bright fluorescent overhead light burns his eyes as he stands there, staring at the bed. Christine is right there, having beaten them across the living room, or perhaps she had already been in there, having heard you in your distress before they could. You're tucked in her arms, your face against her shoulder as she holds you.

Nightmare.

The safety and security the cottage promised has faded, leaving you at the mercy of the horrors your mind can conjure up in your sleep. Something twists deep in John’s stomach as he turns, motioning for the others to back up and give you some space. You won’t want them there, and things will only get worse if you notice them.

His heart is still thudding in his chest as he stands there, the sharp sound of your scream still ringing in his ears despite his confirmation of your safety. The other three look just as startled as he feels, standing there tensely in the dark living room. He brings himself to move, turning his back on them for a moment to try and gather his thoughts as he flips on the lamp in the corner. It casts a warm light across the living room, far too warm for how he’s feeling. He’s trying not to panic, trying not to be sick on the floor from the worry. His heart is in his throat, trying to choke him. He’s trying so hard to be strong, not just for him, but for his pack, for you.

He sinks down on one of the couches, rubbing a hand over his face. He had been so sure something had happened, that their safe little bubble had been breached and someone knew about their whereabouts. He had been so sure someone was trying to hurt you with a scream like that.

Maybe someone was, but not in reality.

What is it you dream about now? Your nightmares about your father and your traumatic presentation must seem like nothing now compared to what must haunt your mind. Do you dream of Graves and his torture? Do you dream of them leaving you behind? Do you dream of dying because of their failures?

A hand settles on his shoulder, a body sinking onto the couch next to him. Arms are wrapping around him, easing him against a solid chest.

He’s crying.

He didn’t even realize the tears had started flowing.

He can hear the reverberating voice in his head, yelling at him, telling him not to show such weakness in front of his pack, in front of his team. He’s supposed to be the strong one, he��s supposed to be the stable one keeping the pack afloat and steady. Yet here he is, breaking down in front of them.

“It’s okay.”

Kyle.

His sweet Kyle.

How he’s been neglecting his sweet beta, and yet, how willing Kyle still is to reach out and comfort him in such a time of visible distress. That’s what betas are supposed to do. Mediate and balance the emotions of the pack. How have they been coping with all of this? How have Kyle and Johnny been managing in such a time of disarray and upheaval? Have they been managing it? He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t even know the state of his pack, of the members of his team.

What a failure he is.

He lets himself lean against Kyle, something filling his chest as Kyle’s soft scent seeps into his senses. He’s projecting it, not just for John but also for the whole room. Johnny is crying too, soft sobs tearing from his chest as he sits on the other couch. Simon is on his knees in front of him, trying to get him calmed and breathing.

They’ve been ignoring and denying each other for days, fraying the bonds further while trying so hard not to. The pain they’ve been causing in their emotional constipation and intentional neglect is almost worse than the pain caused by their infighting. At least fighting they were feeling something. At least fighting they weren’t cutting each other off so willingly.

“We can’t do this anymore.” He says, his voice thick and shaky from his tears. “Cutting each other off. It’s not helping anything.” He doesn’t move from where he’s tucked against Kyle’s chest, letting the comfort wash over him for the first time in a week and a half.

How he’s missed this.

“It’s not doing any good for any of us.” Simon says, shifting onto the couch next to Johnny.

“Especially not our omega.” Kyle says, voicing the thought flashing through all of their minds.

“We may not be able to do much to help her right now, but we can focus on each other. That is something we can do.” John swallows thickly, his alpha starting to come back to life, his instincts aware again as he stares at Johnny and Simon. “Doing nothing isn’t good for any of us. We need to have something to focus on, something tangible we can do. Denying each other comfort isn’t going to help anyone.”

“I full-heartedly agree.”

John whips around, Christine standing in front of your closed door. He hadn’t even noticed her enter the room, hadn’t sensed her standing behind them. Johnny and Simon are the only two that don’t look startled, but they must have seen her come out from their position facing your door.

“Sorry.” The corner of her lip twitches up in a smirk. “Thought you would have noticed.”

John clears his throat. “How is she?”

“Settled again.” Christine says, moving over to the chair.

“How long has she been having nightmares?” Kyle asks.

“Since that first day in the med center in Dallas.” She says, sinking into the chair. How heavy this must all be on her shoulders. “I’d almost call them more sleep hallucinations. Mostly of Graves. Seeing him in the room, being attacked by him.”

“Is there anything that can be done to help?” John asks.

“For these kinds of nightmares? Not really.” Christine folds her hands in her lap. “Her brain is trying to process what happened. Until she feels safe enough to truly begin working on processing the trauma, it’s likely the nightmares will continue.”

“Is there anything we can do to help her feel safe?” Kyle says.

Christine’s lips purse as she looks between the four of them. “I’m not sure any of you could do anything right now directly, at least. She’s not open to that yet. Working on your bonds with each other, though, could help her omega finally settle and allow her emotions to even out again. That can help her feel safer, remove that instability and the fear of losing control again.”

All of them share looks, John and Simon staring at one another. They hadn’t even thought about that. Well, at least he hadn’t. Christine had told him months ago that omegas need their alpha when they distress, when their omega takes over. They can come back from it with the help of an alpha...their alpha. Without one, the chances of survival were slim. Yet here you are, trying to do it all on your own. Having to do it all on your own.

That ache in his chest starts again as he stares at Simon. He sent Simon after you, he made Simon go through that process of seeing you in that state and scruffing you. He made Simon be the one to help you through that. He made Simon be there when you needed an alpha most because he couldn’t face the fact that he abandoned you, he left you behind like you were nothing but another faceless soldier.

He wipes his face as the tears start falling again. He truly is a failure of an alpha.

Despite Christine’s reassurances, John can’t help the automatic reaction to your screams. On his feet instantly, his heart pounding in his chest ready to fight bare handed whatever might be causing such a reaction. Whoever might be causing such a reaction. He can’t fight the demons in your head, though, and he’s always greeted by the sight of Christine by your side, comforting you as best she can.

He wants to hate her, wants to be angry at her for taking his place, doing what he should be doing. His alpha scratches at his mind every time he sees her by your side, giving you comforts he should be giving, but it’s his fault. It’s his fault she’s the one there with you. It’s his fault you’re suffering so much. Those thoughts send his alpha crawling back into its cage with its tail between its legs.

It doesn’t matter the time of day, whether it was a nap or the middle of the night, your screams have a pain throbbing deep in his chest. His heart is constantly racing, waiting for that rush of adrenaline at the sound of your terrified scream, at that rush of instinct to protect and fight. He’s not sure how much his heart can take.

He might have a heart attack by the end of their stay at the cottage.

That’s something he’s been trying not to think about.

They can’t stay here forever, no matter how much he knows you’ll want to, how much the others will want to. Eventually they’ll begin to go stir-crazy, itching for something to do. They still have jobs, and Kate can only keep them off the radar for so long, and can only give so many excuses. Eventually they’ll have to go back. Eventually they’ll have to make that decision of what comes next.

He’s going to delay that as much as he possibly can.

They can’t go back while Shepherd is still out there. They can’t trust that anywhere is safe while he’s still skulking around, while he still has contacts that could put them all in danger. That could put you in danger.

That’s not a risk he’s willing to take again.

But what comes next?

What will they decide to do? Can they go back, knowing what the inevitable will be? Can they take that risk of having to leave you again, put you through that constant fear and worry that they might not come back? What if they all leave again? Could you survive the fear that something might happen while they’re away again? Not to them, but to you?

Could they leave you alone again?

Those are thoughts for another day when they’re inevitably faced with the fact they have to return to society and their lives and jobs.

They have time.

He has to make sure you’re okay first.

You’re not okay.

You’re so very far from okay.

The bedside lamp is on, casting a golden glow around the room.

There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there.

It’s one of the rare times you’ve woken before you can react, before you can scream and alert everyone in the house that you’ve had a nightmare. They’ll all come running. All of them.

You hate it.

You hate the nightmares, you hate the fear, you hate the constant pain and worry and the constant knowledge that your pack is right there. They want to go back to how things were, they want things to go back to normal, but they can’t. They expect you to forgive them, to go back to loving them, but how can you after everything?

They left you.

They let this happen to you and they just want you to pretend like nothing happened. That’s what they would do. Go back to normal life after being tortured and forget it all happened because that’s what they do.

You’re not them.

You don’t want to be like them.

Cold. Heartless. Uncaring. Unwilling to put anyone but themselves first.

Fuck them.

The only thing keeping you here is the fact you’re bonded to them. That, and you’re an omega. You’d get picked up off the street and brought right back here to your owner. Or, worse, you’d get picked up by someone looking for a cute little omega to add to their collection.

Or worse.

You’d get picked up by someone else.

Graves. Shepherd.

If you’re lucky, they’d kill you instantly. Leave your body on the front porch for the others to find. You won’t care anymore. You’ll be dead.

You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks, wiggling yourself back until you’re leaning against the headboard. Your shoulder doesn’t hurt quite as much anymore. It still throbs, still aches, still occasionally almost puts you on the floor when you try to reach over your head with it. Your throat is healing too. Soup isn’t quite as horrible as it was a few days ago. Solid food makes you ache, but at least you can get it down without feeling like you’re swallowing glass.

You still haven’t spoken to them, though.

You can hardly stand to look at them.

Fuck them.

Just the thought of them makes you want to scream.

Dr. Keller says it's normal, being angry. ‘It’s all part of the process.’ The anger, the fear, the pain, the depression. It’s all normal. It’s all part of the process. It’s all necessary. You won’t get better holding it all in. You won’t get better numbing yourself. You won’t get better if you don’t allow yourself to feel everything.

You hate it.

Why should you have to go through all these feelings, all this pain? Why should you be the one suffering because of their decisions? It’s not fair. They should be suffering. They should be in pain. They should be the ones on the brink of insanity because of the fear and the pain and the suffering and their omega constantly screaming at them.

It makes you want to scream.

Screaming will only draw them in, force them closer. Screaming will alert them all, make them all come running. You don’t want any of them near. You don’t want to have to see them again.

Fuck them.

You let out a huff before wiggling back down the bed until your head hits the pillow. You won’t go back to sleep. You never do. At least you have the pain and exhaustion and tumultuous emotions and your very nature to excuse your constant naps, constant sleeping during the day. They don’t need to know you’re not sleeping at night. They won’t care. They don’t care. None of them do.

Fuck. Them.

You want your phone, you want something to keep you occupied. It’s probably lying somewhere on the side of the road shattered beyond repair. That, or it’s back in the barracks. The barracks. Fuck that place. You’ll rip your hair out strand by strand if you have to go back there. It’s not safe, it’s not happy. There’s nothing good about that place anymore.

It’s just a place of pain. You might as well have been tortured by Phil there.

You were tortured there.

It wasn’t a physical torture, but a mental one. The entire experiment was just torture for you. No one thought of you, no one cared about you.

Dr. Keller cares.

It’s her job to care.

Still, you can’t hate her entirely. She’s the only one that understands. She’s the only one that can help. She’s the only one that’s been helping. Not just now, but back then. She cared, she fought for you, she did her best with what she had. Sure, she made mistakes, but so did you. She’s the only one you can forgive.

She’s the only one you want to forgive.

Fuck the others. Fuck your pack. Fuck those fucking soldiers who were never going to care about anyone but themselves, who were never going to care about anything but their jobs and their duties and the good of the world.

You should have been their world.

They couldn’t put you first. They wouldn’t put you first. They didn’t want to put you first.

They won’t change. They can’t change. There’s no hope for change.

You’ll just go back to the way things were before and be forced to pretend everything's okay and that you’re happy and fine and content. Were you ever really content or were you just trying to make the best of the situation? Were you deluding yourself into believing you loved them and cared about them and that they loved you and cared about you to numb the fact you knew deep down that they never would, that they never could. Were you deluding yourself into thinking everything was fine and dandy to hide the constant pain from the knowledge that you would never come first?

The pain begins to burn in your chest again. It’s hot like acid, rising in your chest to your throat, threatening to choke you. It’s a deep pain, one nestled right in against your soul. Tears leak out of your eyes again as you squeeze them shut, pushing your right hand against your chest in an attempt to get it to pass.

You thought you were dying the first time.

You could only be so lucky.

The bond.

It’s trying to break, trying to sever itself, trying to free you from the constant pain, but it can’t.

Maybe because deep down you don’t want it to. Maybe deep down you want to forgive them and move past all of this. Maybe you want things to go back to normal, even if normal means pain and distress and fear. Maybe you want to believe them that they’re finally going to put you first.

‘Maybe’ is only a doorway to disappointment and pain.

Fuck yourself.

Fuck your omega.

Fuck your pack.

Hell, fuck Dr. Keller for not fighting harder, for not doing more.

Fuck Graves and his haunting of your nightmares.

Fuck Kate for choosing you.

Fuck Shepherd for creating the initiative in the first place to try and cover his own ass.

Fuck them all.

You tug the blanket higher around yourself, rolling onto your right side.

Fuck. Them. All.

You don’t want him here.

He does it now, usually in the mornings.

You hate it.

You like it. It’s nice. He’s the only one making an effort.

He never says anything, surprisingly enough. It’s silent as he sits there, steaming cup of coffee in hand. Always coffee, never tea. He won’t sink that low. He brings you a cup, but you can never bring yourself to touch it. You feel like a mental patient stuck in a straight jacket. You could free yourself, but that would bring too much awareness, too many questions, too much pain.

You don’t want to.

So instead you sit there in silence, staring out at the sea. It’s so far away still, yet it’s right there. You can hear it and smell it and see it.

The sea.

They brought you to the sea.

John remembered. He did it for you.

The thought has something stirring in your chest, and it’s not pain or anger.

You hate it.

Johnny leans back in the chair, his eyes on the horizon like yours. He sits there in that chair every chance he gets, usually in the mornings when Dr. Keller takes time for herself and leaves one of them watching you through the sliding glass door. You do feel guilty for forcing so much on Dr. Keller’s shoulders, yet you need her.

You’re not ready for the others yet, no matter how loudly your omega screams at you.

You don’t want them.

Fuck, you desperately need them.

Your eyelids flutter frantically as you try to keep the tears at bay. You can’t cry. You can’t let him know how close you are to breaking down. You can’t.

You can’t reach out.

You can’t take his hand.

How desperately you want to.

You nearly breathe a sigh of relief when the sliding door opens, Dr. Keller’s soft footsteps crossing the wood planks of the porch.

“Ready to go inside now?” She asks, pressing the back of her hand against your cheek. You don’t say anything, don’t react, frozen in fear of everything coming tumbling out in front of Johnny. “You’re getting cold.”

Johnny glances your way and you immediately turn to look at Dr. Keller, scared to look him in the face. That desperate hold you have on the gaping wound in your abdomen will open and your guts will come spilling out like some gory scene in a horror movie.

Disembowelment thanks to your own weakness.

Dr. Keller holds the crutch out for you as you push yourself to stand. Your legs are strong enough you could probably walk without it, but it’s still nice to have it in case you get tired.

If you fall, you’ll never get up again.

It’s the weakness from your liquid diet over the past week and a half. The weakness of being unable to eat solid foods, to properly nourish. You’ve lost weight, your clothes hanging from your body in a way they never did before. You’ve lost the softness that marks you as an omega, but it feels fitting. You don’t feel like an omega anymore.

You don’t feel like anything anymore.

You’re fighting your instincts out of pain and suffering and stubbornness. You keep taping your omega’s mouth shut despite how loudly she screams at you. You don’t want your instincts. You don’t want that need. Eventually it has to go away. Eventually it has to recede and your omega has to go back into her cage and sleep. Eventually you can numb yourself to it and force it away forever.

That will certainly make things easier.

But will it make things better?

No. Probably not.

It’ll make things worse.

But if it allows you to keep your distance, allows you to avoid them, you’ll risk it. You’d take numbness over anything right now.

How you miss those long days of depression while they were away. How you took those days for granted.

Who knew those hours spent worrying about them and their distance and what might happen to them would be for nothing?

What you wouldn’t give for all of them to disappear right now.

How badly it would destroy you.

“She’s at war with herself. That instinctual need is screaming at her, but that emotional pain is keeping her shut away. If anyone is going to get through to her, it will probably be you.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Simon clenches his jaw as he stares at Christine. As much as he wants to hate the doctor and her ability to see straight through him, he can’t deny how necessary her presence has been. She’s the only one you tolerate, the only one you’ll let close. Without her you’d probably be rotting in bed, stuck and unable to do anything out of stubbornness. You won’t let them close, yet you need them close.

You’re going to rip yourself in half, metaphorically and possibly even literally.

He shakes that mental image from his mind. The horrifying images his mind has conjured up over the last few days have his stomach churning. Even his tea no longer looks appetizing.

He put milk in it this time. Almost how he likes it. Almost how he wants it.

“Johnny’s the one actually trying.” Simon says, staring across at her. She doesn’t shy from his gaze, doesn't even flinch. “You should talk to him.”

“While I agree, reintroducing a beta from the pack is the first step, eventually she’s going to need an alpha.” Christine says.

“She needs her alpha.” He argues.

“She doesn’t want her alpha.” Christine counters. “He’s going to be the last she lets close, but she’s going to need some kind of stability.”

“I can’t give her that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Simon clenches his hand around his mug, his knuckles going white. She’s infuriating, yet he can’t be mad at her. Not completely. The good she’s doing for you, for the pack, far outweighs his annoyance with the doctor. She’s right. He knows it deep down, but he can’t. He can’t do that, he can’t put you through that. He’s already done enough. He did his part, he faced his fears, he saved your life. That’s enough for him. It’s up to John now.

John has to do the work to fix it. He broke it, it’s no one else’s job to fix it.

“Maybe both.” Simon finally says, pushing himself up to stand. “It’s not my job to fix this.”

He leaves his mug behind as he stalks out of the kitchen, heading for the front door. He can’t stand being in the house any longer, cooped up with the same five people. Four people and a ghost.

He shakes his head, jogging down the steps into the gravel. He should go for a jog. A long jog. He could jog to town and back. That will clear his head.

That’s a long jog.

If something happens while he’s away, he won’t get back in time. It’ll be his fault because he took the time to do something selfish. He can picture it, coming back to find five bodies laying in pools of blood, dead because he wasn’t there to help, because he wasn’t there to fight.

It’s a ridiculous thought. There’s three other highly trained soldiers in the house. If anyone tried anything, they wouldn’t make it past the door. He can see it now, Price’s alpha coming out in a rage because someone dared try to enter and hurt his vulnerable omega. He’d probably win in a fight ten to one if that happened, and he has Kyle and Johnny to back him up. Christine would take you and run the first chance she could. She wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not again.

Still, he can’t shake that fear. If he can’t sprint back, then it's too far. If it will leave the pack too vulnerable, he can’t.

To the beach and back, then.

She’s like an angel.

The soft sunlight streaming through the clouds makes her glow. You wouldn’t be surprised if the sun was shining just for her, sending down a beam just to illuminate just how ethereal she is.

The Garrick beauty is genetic.

Kyle is beautiful in terms of a man. He shares the same ethereal glow as his sister, but Ashley? You don’t feel worthy of looking upon her.

“Kyle never mentioned an omega, but then again, he never says much about his job.” She gives another dazzling smile, your heart rate picking up just slightly. “Can’t, I should say. You haven’t been with them long, huh.”

“About nine months.” You say, your voice still a bit hoarse. It’s not quite healed yet. It might be that way forever.

“Such a short amount of time to go through so much.” She says, giving you a soft, sympathetic look. You don’t know how much she knows, though it’s still fairly obvious you’ve been through hell. That you’re still going through hell. “Christine told me a bit about what happened. I don’t blame you one bit for being upset at them. I would have left them, but I know. In a perfect world, right?”

You make a quiet sound. Indeed in a perfect world where omegas have rights and can make their own decisions and could leave and have support in doing so. You’d leave with Dr. Keller or even Ashley, even though you’ve only known her for ten minutes. She has the same magnetic energy as Kyle, so much so you don’t mind the way the scent blockers burn your nose. She probably smells like something warm and soft, something comforting.

“So, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?” She says, settling in the chair. It’s cool outside, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it one bit.

You scramble for something, anything. What is it you like to do? What are your hobbies? You’re drawing a blank, your mind searching through its filing cabinets to find where you shoved all the things you like to do.

“I like to read.” You finally say, remembering the stack of untouched books on the dresser across from the bed.

“Oh? What do you like to read?” She asks.

What do you like to read? What is a genre? What are books?

“Oh, I read anything, as long as it’s interesting.” Is that the truth? You’re not quite sure.

“I see, I see. Well, there’s quite the collection on those shelves inside. I’m a reader too. Read through those entire shelves over the years.” She grins at you. “We could do a little book club, if you’d like. Read some books and talk about them over some tea. We could get Christine in on it too. Have a little thing just for us girls.”

You nod, staring at her in awe. This is the first time someone outside of your little circle has offered to do anything with you, for you.

You want to do it.

You want to spend time with someone who isn’t your pack, who isn’t Dr. Keller.

“Okay.” You say, still staring at her in awe.

“I could come over on the weekends, or we could do a call if you’re not up to seeing anyone.” She continues, and you’re not sure if she made this plan before she came, or if she’s coming up with it on the spot. Regardless, you're still impressed by her and her dedication to a complete stranger.

“Would...would that be too much?” You ask, your brain starting to wake up again, the wires connecting once more.

“Not at all.” She shakes her head. “I live and work in Exeter, so I’m not too terribly far away.”

You’re not sure where Exeter is off the top of your head. Your mental map isn’t even sure how far away London is...or even where you are on a map of England. Are you even in England right now?

“What do you do for work?” You ask, realizing you’ve been silent for an awkward amount of time.

“I’m a finance lawyer.” She says. “Mum used to say ‘you love to argue so much, you should become a lawyer.’” She laughs. “So I did.”

“You must make a lot of money.” You say. You don’t know how much lawyers make in England relative to the US.

“I make enough to be comfortable.” She says. Enough to travel back and forth every weekend. “Seriously, though, if you need or want anything, let me know. I’m more than happy to come sit with you and give you a break from those stinky men.”

You’re not quite sure what happens to your face. It contorts, muscles shaking off the dust and starting to move before you even realize it. Your lips are tilting upwards instead of downwards. Something is happening. Something that feels good, something that you’ve been missing.

You’re smiling.

You’re smiling. You haven’t smiled in a long time. Weeks. Not since the cameras. Not since your pack left. You haven’t felt like smiling in so long you’re certain you forgot how to. But yet, here you are, smiling at Ashley. It’s not a genuine smile, one that crinkles your eyes and shows joy, but it’s a smile. It almost hurts your face after so long.

She’s funny too.

Stinky men.

They are that.

Your smile falls as soon as the sliding glass door opens, your head whipping around to look. Ashley turns to look too, perhaps out of instinct at your sudden movement.

You’re half expecting it to be one of the guys, maybe Kyle out to ruin the moment, but it’s only Dr. Keller.

“How are things going?” She asks, stepping up beside you.

“Good.” Ashley says. “We’re planning a book club.”

“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises a brow, looking between you. “I think that would be fantastic.”

“You’re welcome to join in if you’d like,” Ashley says, giving Dr. Keller a smile.

You stare up at Dr. Keller, watching the way her lips turn up a smile, her eyes shining with...something. Her hands open and close, tugging at her pants almost nervously. Your brows raise as you look back up at her face. She almost looks...flustered.

Oh.

Another grin forms on your face as you stare between them, Ashley still smiling and Dr. Keller still looking a bit flustered.

Oh.

“You could join us if you want.” You say slowly, still looking up at Dr. Keller.

She seems to snap out of her daze, her gaze darting down to you. She gives you a soft smile, back to her composed, professional self. “If that’s what you’d like.”

You nod. Even though you see her constantly every day, you’re not tired of her existence yet. She’s the only one whose existence in the house doesn’t make you want to gouge your eyes out, the only one you want to talk to, to see, to have around. If you had the choice, you’d be here alone with her.

That’s not possible. You know it’s not.

“A thing for just us girls.” Ashley says. “On the weekends. No pressure whatsoever.”

“I think that would be fantastic.” Dr. Keller says. “A nice little distraction.”

“A nice break from those stinky men.” You say.

Both Dr. Keller and Ashley erupt in laughter.

Another smile tugs at your lips.

You don’t want to be here. You can feel him staring at you from behind. He hasn’t moved since Dr. Keller left, still just standing there like he’s not sure he can approach you or not. You hope he doesn’t. You want him to.

You don’t say anything, still staring out at the ocean, but you can see him reflected in the glass, obscuring your view of the horizon. Hatred burns inside of you as you have no choice but to stare at him, even when you’re trying not to. He’s like a ghost, always haunting you. He always will be.

“I didn’t want to try to rush into this.” He finally says, knowing you’re not going to say anything. You won’t greet him, welcome him into your space. It already feels like an intrusion into your safety, him being here.

Is this becoming a safe space? A nest? No, not that far. It’s becoming sacred to you, though, and having him in it without invitation feels wrong. It makes you uncomfortable.

You hate it.

“But I just wanted you to know that we’re all feeling the weight of what we did, I’m feeling the weight of what I decided to do. We all feel guilty for putting you through that, for forcing you to endure things you never should have.”

He swallows thickly, falling silent for a moment. You almost feel like laughing at his attempt at an apology, another attempt at an apology. Why is he even bothering? He knows you won’t forgive him. He’s probably doing it for himself again, to make himself feel better.

“I know it’s not an ideal situation, being forced in such a small space together, but we all wanted you to know that you’re the one setting the boundaries. If you don’t want us to be somewhere or do something, then you can tell us, or have Christine tell us. If you don’t want to see us at all, we can make our best attempts at that.”

“That would be ideal.” You say, breaking the silence you’ve held for days. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him since the hospital, since his first sad attempt at an apology.

It shocks him to stillness and silence.

The words hurt, burning your throat like acid as you stare at his reflection in the glass. You hate it, how pathetic he looks standing there. Where’s the big, tough alpha? Where’s the strong protector? Where’s the person that’s supposed to take care of you and care about you?

He never existed.

He left you behind.

He never cared.

Anger begins to bubble within you.

“I’m sorry.” He says, his voice shaking. “I never meant for this to happen-”

“You think your sad attempts at apologies are going to work?” You hiss at him through your teeth. You push yourself to stand, turning to face him. “You left me. You fucking left me there knowing full well what was going to happen!” You’re shouting now. All the quiet movements on the other side of the wall in the main area stop.

They’re all listening.

It’s not like you’re giving them much of a choice not to.

Fuck them.

“I know,” He says, his eyes wide as he stares at you.

“Do you? Do you know?” Your voice is wavering, your throat starting to ache but you can’t stop. Not now. It’s all coming out and there’s no stopping it. “You. Left. Me. You willingly turned your back on me time and time again even when I was being tortured! You leaving was torture enough and you still chose me second. I’ve always been second. I’ve never mattered enough for you to even question anything!”

You let out a sob, the sound cracking in your throat. It hurts, but it will always hurt. You’ll always carry this hurt with you, so you want him to hurt too.

“I asked you once if you would ever leave for me. You said if things got dangerous, if my life were ever at risk because of you, you’d leave in a heartbeat.” The tears are falling, streaming down your face. “Was that a lie?”

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, staring at you. Does he even remember that conversation?

“Was that a lie?” You shout, making him jump.

His eyes drop to the floor, his scent souring. Good, you think. Let it hurt.

“Answer me.” You say, pushing him to give some response to your question. You need to know. You need him to say it.

“I didn’t intend for it to be.” He says quietly.

“You didn’t intend for it to be.” You say, bitterness coating your tone. “What the fuck does that mean? You said you wouldn’t let me go even if the initiative failed. Was that a lie too? Was it all a lie to keep me happy and complacent? ‘The job always comes first,’ even when my life is in danger, right? The job always comes first over everything, even me. You lied to me.” You swallow the sob threatening to come up. “I want to hear you say it.”

He stands there, tears brimming in his eyes. He hasn’t moved hardly a muscle, still frozen like a statue.

“Say it!” You scream at him, your throat tearing around the words. You’re surprised you’re not tasting blood yet from how raw it feels.

“I lied.” He says, swallowing thickly. “I lied to you and I couldn’t keep my promise. And I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize.” You cut him off starting to pace as the anger burns hot in you. “Don’t you fucking apologize to me, you don’t deserve to apologize. You don’t deserve the chance at forgiveness. You’re a shitty alpha and you always have been!”

You let out a sob, wiping at the tears streaming down your face. There’s a tear sliding down his cheek, and it brings you some sort of relief deep down. So he can feel things after all.

“I don’t know what I expected, though.” You let out a sardonic laugh. “You military men are all the same. It’s always about the job and the image and the ‘greater good’ and making sacrifices, even if that means sacrificing your pack. You’re just like my dad. You never wanted an omega, you never wanted me. You cast me out and let me suffer when I needed you most.”

The anger burns hot in you again, shooting through your veins until it’s choking you as you stare at him standing there pathetically. He thought he could apologize, he thought his groveling would mean anything to you. Fuck him. Fuck them all.

“You left me.” You grit out, your hands starting to shake. “You left me! You abandoned me, you let me get hurt! You didn’t care, you never cared about me!” You storm over to him. “Fuck you!” You scream, hitting his chest. “I fucking hate you!” You shove him back, sending him stumbling. “Get out!” You shove him again, pushing him back towards the door. “Get out! I never want to see you again!”

He stumbles back out of the door and you slam it in his face so hard it shakes on its hinges. You click the lock as you sob in pain, pain both physical and emotional. Your chest aches, a tearing feeling burning through it.

The bond.

You don’t care. You don’t give a fuck anymore. You hate him, you hate them all.

The tears and sobs threaten to choke you but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You don’t care about anything anymore except the anger burning hot through you, making your hands shake. Your legs give out and you slide to the floor against the door, sliding until you’re laying down on your back on the hardwood. It’s cold against your skin but you don’t care. You can’t care anymore.

If you fall, you’ll never get up again.

Her hand presses against your forehead, wiping some of the sweat beading on your skin. Despite your shivers, you’re burning hot. A fever. You worked yourself up too much earlier in your outburst. She had been proud of you for finally releasing some of it and showing some emotion, but she knew the consequences of getting so worked up would be high. Your omega is still unstable, on top of still trying to physically recover. You hurt yourself doing that, even if it was necessary.

She shushes you as you whine, fingers grasping at the blanket clumsily. She pulls it higher over you, your body shuddering underneath the pile already stacked on top of you. She’d put every blanket she could find over you, and yet you still shiver. Worry floods her again as she stares down at you, your eyes pinched closed. You must be aching, your show of anger taking its toll.

It was necessary, but at what cost?

If your temperature continues to spike, the risk of distress heightens. You can’t handle distress in your current state, which would mean your omega would come out, finally be freed again from the unprotected cage it's been pushed back into. If your omega comes out, that will require John to help, which may only drive you further into distress.

She needs to try and stop this before the situation continues to deteriorate.

But how?

How can she move you past this without the help of your pack? She can’t give you the comfort you need. Medicine or any therapeutic methods can help solve the issue at its core. Sure she can try and lower your fever with medicine, but you need your pack. You need that comfort and stability that only they can offer.

You need someone, and it can’t be her.

If your omega comes back out, they might never be able to get it back in. It’ll be the end of you. All of your recovery, the fight you’ve put up against your body and your instincts and your mind will have been for nothing.

You need someone.

An idea begins to form in her head, her hand resting against your forehead. It’s hot under her hand, your skin burning. You might hate her later for this. It’s risky, but sometimes risks have to be taken in dire situations. Sometimes those risks pan out in the end. What will happen if it fails? The inevitable that’s going to happen if she doesn’t try. It’s a lose-lose situation, but if it works, it could be a win-win.

She can’t help you, but maybe she has someone who can.

She tucks the blankets around you, cocooning you in an attempt to keep you warm and still while she steps away. She won’t be gone long.

She leaves your door cracked open just in case, even though she doubts you’ll be moving much while she’s away.

Just in case.

One can never be too careful.

She heads up the stairs quietly, going slow to avoid startling any of them. She’s intruding on the safe space they’ve made in their solitude. It feels like invading sacred grounds, but it's a necessary invasion. Their omega is in danger. They’ll forgive her.

The bathroom door is closed at the end of the short hallway, a light on inside. The lights are on in both rooms too, glowing beneath both doors, and she takes a gamble. Based on the heaviness of the footsteps above the kitchen she can guess the room on the right is the one Simon and Johnny are staying in. If she’s wrong, she’ll have some explaining to do before she’s ready, and she knows John will have his thoughts about this. Though, with what happened earlier, perhaps he’ll agree. You won’t see him, but maybe...just maybe...

She lets out a deep breath before knocking firmly, waiting a breath before she calls out.

“Johnny, I need your help.”

She just hopes you don’t hate her too much later.

NEXT ->

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #John price x reader #captain price x reader #Kyle Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #Simon Riley x reader #Ghost x reader #John mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alpha/beta/Omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

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noisydelusionlove · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 1: We Need a Medic

Not edited or beta read or anything, just getting my idea out I guess.

Pairing: Poly141xOriginal Character (I might turn it into a reader but I don’t know)

Warnings: military inaccuracies, medical inaccuracies, COD inaccuracies, A/B/O dynamics

John Price looks up from his stack of papers as a frantic knock sounds on his door. “Enter” he calls out, the door flying open almost immediately. Gavin, the most recent Beta medic comes in, his moves frantic as he stares at the head Alpha of Pack 141. “I quit, I’m done. I’ve met a lot of crazy Alpha’s but he tried to rip my throat out!” Gavin yells as he stares at John. John gives a sigh as he nods.

“I’ll have your papers sent by the end of day.” He says as the Beta leaves quickly, the scent of fear and panic permeates the office causing John to crinkle his nose.

John stands from his desk with a groan as he makes his way to the side of the barracks that houses the medical office.

When he enters the medical office the smell of burning rubber hits his nose, angry Alpha. John’s nose crinkles as he breathes it in, followed by a calming smell of rain. When he enters the room completely he sees Simon sitting on the medical bed with Johnny pressed to his chest, in an attempt to calm him.

“Scared another one away huh Ghost?” John sighs as he meets the angry eyes of Simon behind his black balaclava. “Trying to poke around when I told him I was fine.” Simon grunts out, causing John to shake his head. “How copy?” John sighs as he runs a hand through his beard. “Solid cap, it was just a scratch.” Simon responds as he motions with his chin to the wound on his arm where a bullet grazed him on the last mission. John nods as he turns and heads back to his office. John shuts the door behind him and sits at his desk with a sigh. He reaches for the cigar box on his desk, quick to light one to attempt to calm his nerves.

The shrill sound of his office phone takes his attention as he sighs again and reaches for it. “Price” he says only as he places the receiver to his ear. “Trouble in paradise I see.” A female voice comes from the other end. “Hi Kate” John grunts as he leans back in his chair. “Ghost chased away another medic I see.” Kate sighs as John grunts in affirmation. “Word travels fast, poor pup just quit.” John says as he ashes the cigar into the tray on his desk. “I have a suggestion.” Kate says, her tone serious. “and that would be?” John groans as he rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “You’ll see when I land ETA 15 minutes.” Kate simply says before the line goes silent. John places the phone back on the receiver and lets out a loud huff.

John sighs as he stands at the hangar watching at the helicopter descends to the landing pad. Once the helicopter is stopped the door open and out steps Kate Laswell. “Good to see you old man.” Kate calls, causing John to roll his eyes as he takes her hand in greeting. The two of them head off of the air field and into the cart to take them to his office. “I hope this suggestion of yours is going to solve my medic problem.” John states as he glances at Kate. Kate gives a small nod as the cart stops and they step out, heading to his office.

Once the door is closed Kate pulls a file out and drops it on John’s desk. “Former sniper, marine trained medic, more than capable of handling all of your men especially Simon. Feral gives just as much as they take. I guarantee they’ll survive here.” Kate says matter of factly. John eyes the file suspiciously. He opens it and notices the first page, the profile page is missing. “Kate-“ he starts but is silenced as Kate shakes her head. “Read it first before I give you the profile. Make your decision based on skill before anything else.” Kate says, her tone shifting, her inner Alpha coming out. John sighs as he reads through the file, his eyebrows raising at the scores and recommendations this medic has received.

“Sniper to medic huh?” John says as he eyes Kate curiously. “Wanted a change of pace.” Kate says, but it’s obvious there’s something she isn’t saying. “Look, this medic seems great but I know there’s more to it. I can’t have another Alpha here. It’s already difficult with me and Ghost. Ghost is an apex, his instincts are stronger than even mine, a third Alpha could be dangerous.” John says as he stares at her. Kate shakes her head. “Not an Alpha, I promise.” She responds. “Would you hire them?” Kate watches as John nods. “They look like a dream come true but I know you’re not telling me the whole story.” John leans back as Kate nods. “So, feral, Sargent Lee, will be here tomorrow to start her new job.” Kate says, causing John to nod. “Here’s the profile.” Kate smirks as she tosses a paper down causing John’s eyes to widen. The profile shows a young woman, barely 30, the name Aurora Lee underneath and in bold letters it states ‘Classification : OMEGA’. John’s eyes shoot to Kate as she stands there smirking. “Your new medic is an Omega and I promise you she isn’t like an Omega you have met before.” Kate states, causing John to growl slightly. “This won’t end well.” He says as he shakes his head. “I think it will end perfectly.” Kate smiles as she turns to leave his office. “I’ll see you tomorrow when she arrives.” Kate calls as the door shuts. John stares at the picture of his new medic, his new omega medic with a sigh. “The boys are going to flip.” He mutters to himself.

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Silver heart knot divider by @tsunami-of-tears

MDNI divider by @arlerts-angel

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waves-against-a-cliff · 2 months ago

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After the end - Post-apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - You won't be cornered in your territory and that's final. You begin to make little presents for your trespassers should they dare to enter your woods. Meanwhile, the four alphas find something very interesting...

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader. The reader is officially a bad ass

Prologue

You stared down at the nest you had created and suddenly felt disgusted and angry. These alphas have stepped onto your territory and made you react like this. Three years of near bliss, despite the struggles, gone. The anger rolled over you in waves, it boiled your blood to the point you felt hot all over your body.

No. You weren't about to cower in your cabin and let some stupid alphas wander all over your territory. You were going to do something about it. You marched back towards your living room and opened one of the closets on the side of the hallway. You grabbed the bag full of supplies and swung it over your shoulder then looked at the shotgun leaned against the wall.

You hesitated only for a moment before you grabbed it too. Even in the times before the world ended you hadn't been one for conventionality. You preferred to be alone on your own property living your own life. And no alpha or beta, whether back then or now, was going to take this from you. You shoved the extra ammunition into your pockets and unbarred your door.

The cold winter air nipped at your skin and distantly you could still smell their combined scents. You pulled stuffing from a torn apart pillow and stuffed it up your nose. Happy hunting indeed, you thought as you stepped off into your piece heaven that would become their hell.

"Hey captain," Gaz said as they wandered through the very small town. It had likely been abandoned for ages. The first thing Gaz had noticed was that the windows were smashed in but the doors boarded up. Then he noticed the marks, spray paint in different symbols meaning something or another. "I think this place has been completely stripped bare."

Price hummed thoughtfully and turned to look around at the other buildings. All of them in similar states of disrepair but all with symbols sprayed onto them. He turned to his team, and contemplated their next steps. "Do you think they might still be around?" Ghost spoke up finally.

Price glanced at his lieutenant. They had stuck together when the entire world had completely gone down. First the electricity and then a disease. It apparently didn't take much else to throw the world into chaos. People killed people all the time before but not even Ghost had been prepared for the level of depravity some people dove to. Kidnapping local omegas, killing betas or hunting alphas for sport. Blowing up buildings and ransacking stores.

They had all stuck together as a pack since that was what they had always done. They wandered from place to place and it had taken them a little over a year to make it back to the UK. Bonds grew stronger and their ruts continued. They were all each other's support. Price considered the facts in front of them.

"Negative. I don't think whoever did this is still around," Price said as he eyed the pharmacy. The only building not having been closed off or marked with an 'x'. "Soap, Gaz, go investigate the pharmacy, me and Ghost will try to find any other buildings not marked."

They wandered around the town for a bit with Gaz and Soap meeting back up not long after they had departed. "Over tae counter medicine like Advil but nae much else," Soap tossed Ghost the bottle who looked over it.

"Not expired yet. Good find."

"Wait," Gaz suddenly said and sniffed the air. Everyone paused, Gaz had the best nose of them all. Able to sniff out any scents even days old. He walked over to a telephone pole that had a red smear on it and sniffed with his nose almost on the old blood.

He felt his cock chub up his pants immediately at the scent. At first it smelled like sweat and dirt but underneath that was a tangy, sour then sweet like a granny smith apple or a green grape, scent. An unmistakable smell of omega.

Gaz turned to the three other alphas, "There's an omega around." He grinned.

Hehe I'm gonna have fun writing this

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novemberheart · 1 month ago

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{overview} You make a wrong turn once or twice

{warnings} fem reader, chapter story, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141, some emotional angst

Chapter 35 <- Chapter 36 -> Chapter 37

It was strange how something so small could be so violating.

The tracker had been removed in under ten minutes- it had taken longer for the anesthetics to kick in. Now here you were in a hospital observation room with the little wire in your hands.

Dr. Harrelson wanted to keep you for a few more hours to make sure your symptoms evened out and to make sure you didn't have a reaction to the anesthetics.

The sun was up now. You could see it expanding over the ceiling. There was a knock besides your curtain.

“How are you doing, pup?” Dr. Harrelson questioned. The back of his hand rested against your forehead, a small quirk in his lips at your perfect temperature.

“I feel a lot better physically,” you half chuckled. Your eyes darted down to the small wire that was being twirled between your fingers. “Is there any way we can trace it back to someone?” you asked.

“I don't see why not,” he shrugged. “All your alphas have to do is”-

“No alphas,” you interjected. “I've given them enough trouble in my time with them. This is something I need to figure out on my own,” you emphasized.

You've had more than enough time to think. This tracker had been injected into you years ago. It had nothing to do with your pack now. Why should they be involved in it? Or forced to fix the situation? Looking back now it was a blessing you were alone when this happened.

You couldn't cause any more problems.

Just because you were marked doesn't mean you couldn't be thrown to the curb. It was clear they had no qualms about being apart from you. Maybe it was easier for them. They didn't have to worry about you. They didn't have to change their schedule to accommodate you. It could just be the four of them.

Like the good ol’ days.

“Pup?” Dr. Harrelson pressed. You opened your eyes.

“Where do I go to get this looked at?” You asked. He sighed, scratching at his narrow jaw.

“You can send it to a lab,” he said finally. “There’s one on base. You'll need an alpha to sign off on it though,” he explained.

“Any alpha, or just my alpha?”

“Any,” he sighed once more.

“Dr. Harrelson,” you spoke. His honey eyes softened. “Thank you for helping me. I would also like for you to be my primary doctor. If that's alright with you?” you added. His face softened even more.

“Would be my honor. You’ll have to convince your alphas of that though,” he smiled.

“Anais I need a favor,” you murmured hesitantly.

“What happened? You don't sound too good,” she spoke from the other line. You could imagine the crinkle by her eyes as she spoke.

“I was sick and had to go to the doctors. I'm fine now but I found something. I was hoping you and Briggs could help me,” you explained.

“Why didn't you call me earlier?!? Where are you? We’ll be right there,” she growled from the other end.

“Still at the doctors at the entrance of the omega ward. Thank you, Anais,” you breathed.

The pair were there shortly after she hung up. You didn't see Anais’ alpha a lot- he was a busy man. He had a duffle flung over his shoulder and you already knew Anais had planned to stay the night with you. As soon as she got close you wrapped your arms around her, breathing in her honey scent. The two of you walked side by side, Briggs standing opposingly behind you.

“So they pulled this out of your leg?” Briggs started, holding the small wire between his fingertips. You nodded, a pang shooting through your legs at the thought.

“How come it didn't dissolve?” Anais spoke. You honestly hadn't thought to ask that.

“Defected or something,” you guessed.

“You or the wire?” she questioned, making you giggle.

“Probably both,” you sighed.

“You have any idea who could've placed it?” Briggs hummed, his elbows resting on his knees.

“It would've been around the time if first went into omega holding houses or a little before,” you explained.

“I’m sure you would've felt it being injected. What about when you first arrived at the omega holding house? Don’t they do physicals?” Briggs asked.

“They do. But I kept my pants on the whole time. They just do routine stuff like blood pressure, heart rate, check your eyes and ears,” you explained.

“You said a little before,” Anais began. “Could it be someone from your family? Maybe your grandparents? They were the ones that worried about you,” Anais suggested.

You didn't know what to think. It felt more likely that it was someone from one of your omega holding houses. But why would they want to track you? You never stayed at one long enough to get attached to someone.

“Maybe it's just for scientific reasons?” you spoke. Both their eyebrows quirked. “Like how scientists track sea turtles and things like that. Maybe they track a lot of omegas just to see where we end up or how long it takes before we get scooped up by a pack,” you continued.

“Not a shabby idea,” Briggs hummed. “You satisfied with that though?”

“No,” you replied. “That’s why I need you. I want to send it to the lab on base so they can track who it's from. I just need an alpha to sign off on it,” you explained slowly. Briggs held up a hand to stop you.

“This is something your alphas should do for you”-

“I can't go to them with this!” you sputtered. “You two know that I've been a bit of a troublemaker already. The last thing I need is more problems- especially after being marked. They’d give me the boot,” you admitted.

“I’m going to tell you this as not only an alpha but a friend, that's insulting,” Briggs snapped. Your eyes widened, and you could see Anais shiver from next to you. “Nothing is worse to an alpha than their omega not trusting them to take care of them. Not only that, but your betas would throw a fucking fit too,”

“I understand that Briggs, but you don't know the whole situation”-

“Neither do you,” Briggs interrupted. “You seem to forget that your pack are the top dogs around this place. I don't need them comin’ after me,” he breathed.

“They wouldn't do that! Besides, how would they even know?”

“Nothing happens without the 141 knowin’ about it. Wouldn't be surprised if they already knew about your leg,” Briggs spoke. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

That couldn't be true.

They couldn't know everything.

“Alright,” you agreed. “I shouldn't have expected you to do that. I'm sorry. Both of you,” you whispered, shuffling a bit closer to Anais. The energy in the air had made her uncomfortable. Briggs reached out a hand holding the back of her head and pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead to soothe her.

“Why can't you do it?” Anais pressed, looking up at Briggs. His blonde brows furrowed.

“If they found out. They would separate the two of you,” Briggs added. You didn't quite appreciate the way he spoke about your pack. Sure, they could be a bit extreme in some cases, but they were fair.

“They wouldn’t do that,” you assured.

“Say it’s mine!” Anais yelled suddenly. “The wire,” she clarified.

“I don't know about that”-

“You would do that Anais?” you asked.

“Of course,” she chuckled. “You would do that for me too! Remember that one time I knocked over a display case and you said it was you because you knew you wouldn't get in trouble because of who your pack is,” she giggled, causing a smile to grace your face. Both of you turned to Briggs.

“I guess that could work,” he sighed defeatedly.

You couldn't take it anymore.

In four days it would be a month since you’ve heard from your pack. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural.

The bonds you had worked so hard to build were already fraying.

The flat was no longer theirs. All scent of them had been erased from the surface.

You couldn't believe that they had no time to call you.

They had done it before.

What made this time so different?

You were marked.

They already had you where they wanted you. The courting phase was over. They had gotten what they wanted. An obedient omega waiting for them at home. They didn't need to impress you. They didn't need to win you over.

The bonds you had worked so hard to build were already fraying.

A few days ago, in a moment of weakness, you called Laswell.

A few more rings and it’ll go to voicemail.

“What’s wrong, honey?” The sound of her voice made you sob. Well, sob harder than you already had been.

“When are they coming home?” you gasped out, your hand gripping the neck of your shirt. You could get her growl on the other end. Not against you, but for you.

“I’m not sure, honey. They miss you,” she pressed out, her own eyes watering at the pure anguish in your voice.

“That’s not enough,” you sobbed. “Can I hear one of them? Please?” you begged.

“I can't,” she whispered. “They are fine though, sweetheart. They’re doing everything they can to get back home to you. It’s just- It’s never-ending,” was all she could say.

“That’s not enough,” you gasped out, your phone dropping to the floor.

It was exhausting. Constantly teetering between heartbreak and anger.

What If you left?

How long would it take before anyone noticed?

Anais would know immediately. But who would she tell? Would there be anything anyone could do? What was stopping you from walking off of base right now?

The chip behind your ear might make it a bit challenging.

Your chip.

You hadn't thought about that before. Were they checking it? Could they see that you went to the medical center?

If they had enough time to check the app, they had enough time to call you.

Bastards.

What if they did know that you went to the medical center in the middle of the night? No one bothered to check up on you.

Bastards.

You pulled yourself off the floor trudging into your room. You threw on a sweater, a pair of jeans, and your lace-up shoes. You made your hair semi-presentable.

Could you really do this?

Leave the safety of your flat and head out into the world.

You should at least put on some scent blockers.

Your hand gripped the cold metal of the door handle. You had everything you needed. Vernie cuddled up in the backpack on your back. Your phone, keys and a bit of cash and a card your pack had left you with.

All you had to do was open the door.

And move your feet.

Which proved to be harder than opening the door.

All you had to do was get onto the elevator.

That part was easy.

All you had to do was leave the building.

That part was hard.

All you had to do was make your way to the entrance of base.

That part was long.

All you had to do was decide if you wanted to go left, right or straight.

You could always turn back around.

No.

To the right was where the city was. It had the bakery. The store. The aquarium. To the left was the beach.

You didn't know what was straight ahead.

Why not find out?

You stayed a little past the treeline, so nobody could see you from the road. You only had to walk around an hour before you were in a completely different area. It was nice. Suburban. It made you feel safe. Vernie padded alongside you, her leash in her mouth.

“How about a little break?” you questioned, looking down at the pup. She paid you no mind too absorbed in the leaves beneath her paws. You stopped at a gas station, quickly putting Vernie back into the backpack. You grabbed some water and a large fountain soda. The two of you sat on the curb, taking in the world around you. While it wasn't entirely glamorous, it was free- and it was yours.

The leaves had nearly finished turning. Just another thing your pack was missing. In the distance you could see some dark clouds rolling in. Maybe you should turn back? You have proven your point.

To turn back now felt like giving up. Giving up on what you weren't quite sure. Yet, the feeling was enough to move you to stand. Just as you were about to continue Vernie turned, beginning to pull you back the way you came.

“Vernie,” you sighed, gently pulling the pup along. She was as stubborn as you, tugging back on the leash. You looked back up at the sky again. “Maybe you're right,” you grumbled, heading back the way you came.

You were halfway there when the rain started to come down. It started off as a drizzle, you picking up the pace to compensate. That didn't matter much.

You were thoroughly soaked. Your sweater the perfect material to soak up any moisture in the air. You were more concerned about Vernie though. She seemed fine. You had flipped the backpack to your front, holding her against you for warmth. The trees provided some protection, but the wind was strong.

“I’m sorry Vern,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss against her head. You had started to shiver now, the temperature dropping as the clouds blocked the sun. You shouldn't have left. You especially shouldn't have wandered out without a raincoat. “Sorry, Vern,” you apologized again. You just had twenty more minutes till you were home. You didn't want to walk through base like this.

You suppose you deserved it.

Tires screeching to a halt caught your attention. You shrunk back, trying your best to conceal yourself against the treeline. You peaked around as the door of the car slammed shut, a very pissed alpha and beta heading your way.

Hi friends! 👋 See you in three days for chapter 36🫣Hope you are liking section 2 so far!

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