#a/b/o cod

[gremlinmodetweeker]

To Market to Market, to Buy A Fat Hog

Okay so this one made me really sad guys. Yes this is more alpha König and omega reader. This one actually made me feel really bad for König. I promise you it will get better! I do!!! I keep saying it because I really do mean it!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Anyways, in this part, König sends you out to market to pick up groceries, and you find a cute alpha who actually seems to like you. Meanwhile, König struggles with appearances and his feelings.

Anyways!

TW: near infidelity (does not actually happen but comes close to a kiss), König feeling very sad and conflicted

Wordcount: 3.8K words (about 9 pages in google docs guys this is big)

Art from this post

Story Below the Cut

To Market to Market, to Buy A Fat Hog

As it turned out, cooking for König was no joke. He was an alpha, so it wasn't a surprise to figure out that the man liked to eat, but what you didn’t realize was that he was picky about it to boot. He was so picky that you’d had to resort to finding your own transportation to go down to the grocery store to find more ingredients.

“What are you you doing?”

You turned around to see König standing behind you in the front hall, posed somewhere between the stairs and the landing.

“We’re out of tomatoes,” you replied, “I need to go to the store to get some more.”

“Why do you need tomatoes?” König asked.

“To make the ratatouille that you wanted so badly,” you explained as you sat on a wooden bench to put on your shoes, “you asked for it last night, remember?”

König nodded, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I forgot about that.”

“Didn’t you say you were looking forward to this?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve been looking forward to the whole week,” König replied with a smirk.

“That’s just great,” you sighed as you brought yourself up to your feet.

“You know it’s going to rain out there, right?” König asked curiously.

“Oh,” you reached down to pick up an umbrella, "thanks.”

König watched as you fumbled with your keys before he asked, “So you’re going out like that?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, “Is there something wrong with how I look?”

König shook his head, “No, no not like that. I’m just wondering if… Well, maybe you should wear something a bit nicer?”

“Why?’ you scoffed, “are you worried about your ‘image’ again?”

König said nothing, letting you fill in the blanks for him.

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes before brushing by him to head back upstairs, “then tell me what to wear.”

“Something nicer,” was all the clarification König gave you before heading off to the backyard. To do what, you didn’t particularly care enough to think about.

Once you were upstairs in your bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Maybe König did have a point; you looked like you’d been hit with a truck that morning. The bags under your eyes were deep and heavy, and your hoodie had stains all over the bottom and along the cuffs of your sleeves. If you sat on a corner and held out a cup, you’d probably be able to make up your entire grocery bill in an afternoon. What a miserable state you were in!

You decided that what you were looking at was not up to snuff, not for you at least. Evidently not for König either, but that wasn’t the point.

With a few brushes of powder and a nice new set of clothes, you were able to face your reflection with a smile. It was a hollow, fragile smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. You tried to focus on the victories, no matter how pyrrhic they felt.

You sashayed back down the stairs with a self confident grin only to be faced with the man who sent you upstairs in the first place.

His icy eyes were wide, glancing around frantically before settling them on his feet.

“Is this good enough?” you asked.

He didn’t say a word, just nodded quickly. You figured that was about as much flattery as you’d get out of him on a good day.

“What store are you going to?” König asked in a quiet voice.

“To the big one,” you replied, “you know, the one down the road.”

König set his lips into a line, then asked, “Why don’t you go to the farmer’s market? It's a Saturday. They should be open today.”

“How would I get there?” you asked.

König dug his hands through his wallet and pulled out a blue and green card, “This is for the bus. You know how to use the GPS on your phone, right?”

You nodded.

“Just look up farmer’s market on the app,” König offered, “it should get you there quickly.”

“But what about money?” you asked.

“Ach,” König hissed as he pulled his wallet from his jeans again, “take this. It should be enough for the groceries and then some for yourself.”

“Are you suggesting I get myself something nice?” you smirked dryly at the irony.

König paused to tilt his head so he could look you in the eyes, “Maybe. You can keep the bus card, too. You’ll need it more than me.”

“Is there enough money on it?” you asked.

“It’s synced to my card,” König replied, “it’ll charge me automatically. Don’t worry about loading it.”

You tucked the card into your own wallet, thinner than his by a landslide. With all your bearings checked, you patted down your dress and gave König an award-winning smile.

“I’ll be back soon,” you grinned.

“Text me when you’re coming home,” König told you as he turned to retreat into the home, “and when you get there. And when-" he clenched his jaw, "just keep me updated, bitte.”

You didn’t say a word, instead stepping through the door and slipping outside. You pulled out your phone and punched in König’s suggestion to find what you expected to be the farmer’s market. You didn’t stop to see if König was waving you goodbye from the window, instead marching to the nearest bus stop to get started on your route.

The bus wasn’t particularly crowded, but there was a beta male in rut that had evidently forgotten to take his pills this morning, making the entire bus reek of oceanic vinegar. He’d obviously tried to hide it with extra scent blocker deodorant, but he was failing miserably. Most of the others on the bus shot the poor fellow cruel looks, to which he withered in on himself. It wouldn’t surprise you if he’d been sent home from work to get himself some pills to stop stinking up the office.

Thankfully, aside from the beta male, there weren’t any great upsets along the way. The walk to the market was thankfully brief, though a drizzle started and you had to put up your polka dotted umbrella as a shield against the weathers. You’d spent too much time perfecting your lipstick to have it smudged by a few drops of rain. Just once, you wanted to feel like you looked nice. It wasn’t like König did anything to help you in that regard. Rather, you felt that when you were around him, you were about as attractive as plain cardboard or white wallpaper. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even let himself look at you, which though while a regular occurrence, still smacked of obstinate rudeness that cut you like a thousand papercuts. Each nervous glance away was another slit upon you. At this point, you were surprised your heart was still beating in its place in your chest.

You skulked through the market in a search for ingredients. You didn’t really need to go out today, but you wanted a break from the silence of the home. After spending so much time in the silence, the hustle and bustle of the market jostled you to and fro with the crowds. You were twirled around this way and that before you were able to stumble you way towards a decent-enough looking stall filled to the brim with bright red fruits.

Only once you were too close to be ignored did you realize that the stall was advertising cider and vinegar, made fresh from the very same apples that had drawn you in.

“Hey!” a tall alpha stepped up to greet you, “see anything you like?”

You, you wanted to say but you held your tongue. Instead, you looked over the merchandise before picking up a small bottle.

“Um, how much is this?” you asked as you passed over the cider.

“Oh this is on sale, actually,” the alpha laughed, exposing his bright white canines, “it’s just for today though.”

“Only today?” you parroted.

“Only for today,” the alpha agreed before screwing you with a strange look, “say, where’s your collar?”

You blinked as you reached up to your neck.

“Oh, I must have forgotten it at home,” you admitted shyly, ashamed you’d forgotten such an important piece of protection for yourself.

“How long have you been here?” the alpha frowned.

“Not long,” you said as you fingered the empty air around your neck, “I must’ve forgotten it when I went out this morning.”

“Well it’s not safe for an unclaimed omega to go around without a collar,” the alpha hummed before holding up a hand, “just wait right there. I’m gonna go talk to someone.”

You nodded and let the man hurry off to talk to an alpha woman who worked the other side of the stall. She glanced over at you with a quick smile before looking back at her coworker, letting him return back to you with a comment accompanied by a nod of her head.

The alpha stepped back from behind the stall to stand by your side, awkwardly squeezing into the space beside you as carefully as he could to avoid actively pressing in on your inner bubble.

“So, I talked to my boss, and she said it’s okay if I take a break and help you around the market,” the alpha smiled timidly, “it’s just… I’m worried somebody might hurt you.”

“Wait, really?” you blinked owlishly as you looked up at the man.

“I mean it’s not safe to be without a collar,” the alpha insisted, “so it only makes sense that I watch over you. I, uh, I have a lot of omega friends and they tell me it’s nice to have someone around to keep them safe.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” you felt a bit fuzzy as you smiled at the messy-haired brunette, “but you don’t have to if it’s too much-”

“It’s nothing,” the alpha interjected before wincing, “sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt it’s just, you know, I’d hate to let you go and have you get hurt or-”

“No I get it,” you helped the poor man out, “I just didn’t want to pull you away from work and…”

You both smiled fondly at each other. Maybe it was something about not being used to an alpha’s affection, but the man’s brown eyes were warm like honey and tea as he took you in. You were suddenly grateful for König insisting that you wear something nice. Wait, König!

“Oh, um, I’m sorry but I should probably just call my alpha to come get me,” you cringed at the thought of having to phone up that miserable lout to drag you back into that horrible home.

“Wait, your alpha let you out like this?” the alpha frowned, almost looking crestfallen, “that’s weird.”

“Well,” you sighed, “we’re in a weird relationship. I’m supposed to be his mate or whatever, but I just… He’s not really in it.”

“Oh you got matched?” the alpha perked up, “I had a few friends in the matching program.”

“You did?” you asked.

“Yeah! They’re all like, ‘Shaun you really gotta sign up for this matching program’ way back in high school, but now they’re all sad and miserable with their matches,” the man laughed before catching himself, “my name’s Shaun, by the way! Sorry about that, I forgot to introduce myself. What’s your name?”

You gave your name with a laugh, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself too!”

“Makes the two of us, I guess,” Shaun chuckled, turning with you to start walking the aisles with you, “so, what’re you here for anyways?”

“Just a few veggies and stuff,” you replied, “my alpha wants me to cook for him.”

“So he let you out in public but expects you to be a perfect little omega for him?” Shaun scoffed, “sounds like a great guy for sure.”

“Well,” you bit your lip, “it’s more complicated than that. See, I really wanted him to just, you know, be my partner but he wasn’t too keen on it. So I was thinking that maybe if I made him jealous, maybe he’d be more interested or something?”

“And how did that go?” Shaun chuckled.

“Well, he called me out pretty quickly and then told me I could make it up to him by cooking for him,” you explained, “so I guess I really got myself in this mess.”

“But you only did it because he wasn’t paying any attention to you?” Shaun asked, helping you navigate around a tight bend by using his body as a battering ram through the crowd.

You blushed furiously, “I mean, is it too much to ask? I really thought the matching system would work, but… Well…”

“Usually it works,” Shaun offered, “but not always,” he helped you step out of the way of a passing baby stroller, “some people say it takes a couple of years to work, but I just think it’s a bit overrated.”

“So you never signed up?” you asked.

“Nah, it’s not like people would really want me, anyways,” Shaun admitted, “I’m an alpha O with a degree in agriculture working at a small farm. I don’t make much, and not many people are into alpha Os.”

“Really?” you asked curiously, “why not?”

“Not as big as alpha Bs and not as stable as beta As,” Shaun explained, “but whatever. I bet you get it as an omega.”

“Omega O, actually,” you laughed when Shaun winced, “yeah, it’s not always fun. But hey, I get by.”

“So I’m guessing you’re matched with an alpha A?” Shaun cringed.

“Yeah! I’m told the matching system puts alpha As and omega Os together for some reason?” you shook your head, “it’s crazy to me.”

“Absolutely,” Shaun agreed, “oh look! You said you needed veggies, right? My friend runs that stand over there!”

Shaun pointed somewhere but the crowd obscured your vision. So thus you pushed forth behind him before coming into a small clearing.

“Shaun! Long time no see!” a tall beta woman leaned on the wood stand.

“Laura, we literally just talked two hours ago,” Shaun rolled his eyes before standing to the side, “I’m just here because this little omega over here forgot her collar back home. But yeah, you wanted to get some things, right?”

After a bit of social chit-chat, you left with a couple of baskets brimming with fresh produce. Included i the bundle was a jar of fresh tomato paste and a bottle of olive oil, courtesy of the Italian pasta maker in the stand beside you. The beta man running the store had been more than glad to help you out when he overheard you explaining your situation with König, though he had tried to make you take a particularly spicy sausage to try and ‘get back at the swine’ but you’d had to turn him down.

After touring the market once more, you sat down at a bench with a paper bag of cinnamon sugar doughnuts between you and Shaun.

“Thanks for helping me around here,” you said before taking another bite of the fresh-baked treat, “wow these are so good. You were totally right about these.”

“Those old ladies know what they’re talking about,” Shaun agreed as he took another doughnut, “but yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m just happy you’re safe and all that.”

“It’s nice to meet an alpha that’s not a major dickface,” you grinned, wiping the sticky sugar away from your fingers.

“Most alphas are pretty chill actually,” Shaun wrapped his sticky fingers together, “I mean, we have to take those emotional regulation classes all the way from grade one until we graduate. Most of us learn how to chill out a bit.”

“So that’s why you’re so nice?” you asked cheekily.

“I mean, I like to think I’ve always been pretty cool,” Shaun tossed you a sly grin, “just don’t tell Laura that. She thinks I’m weird.”

“And why’s that?” you kicked your feet beneath you on the bench.

“Oh, I dunno, because I like comics? Or maybe it’s ‘cause I can quote entire movies in one go,” Shaun laughed, “but I think that just makes me cooler.”

“You might be on to something,” you agreed before you heard a small ping! came from your pocket, “one sec I just need to check something,” you said as you pulled it out to check your notifications. König. “Shit,” you hissed, “it’s König.”

“König? Is that foreign?” Shaun asked.

“One sec I just gotta text him back…”

Hello? Is everything alright? You haven’t texted me in a while and I want to make sure you’re safe.

You hissed and typed out a quick reply before hitting ‘send’ and pocketing your phone again.

“Is this ‘König’ guy your alpha?” Shaun asked, looking at you with a melancholic expression.

“Yeah,” you admitted, “he was just checking if I was okay.”

“Really?” Shaun snorted, “from the way you put it, it didn’t sound like he cared about you at all.”

“Well he doesn’t,” you sighed, “but he has to keep up ‘appearances’ all the time.”

Shaun groaned, “That sounds fucking awful.”

“It can be,” you agreed, “but sometimes… Sometimes I wonder if maybe he does care.”

“If he did, he wouldn’t let you out of the house without a collar,” Shaun reasoned with you.

You hummed, looking down at your sugar-dusted fingers ass they fiddled among each other. You could feel the granules of sugar melting into a sticky paste against your skin, sticking with each brush of your hands against each other.

“It would be nice if my alpha cared about me,” you sighed.

“Well, why do you need him to care about you?” Shaun asked, “and anyways, can’t you break the match?”

“Omegas can’t break matches,” you informed him dutifully, “only alphas and betas have the right to break matches.”

Shaun slumped in his seat.

“Oh…”

“It’s stupid,” you spat.

“It’s sad ‘cause like…” Shaun shrugged awkwardly, “you seem really cool.”

“Do I?” you laughed, “because I’m not.”

“People say I’m not cool either,” Shaun smiled, “so I guess we’d work pretty well together.”

You turned slightly to look at him from the corner of your eyes. He wasn’t looking at you, instead focussing on his own hands, coated just like yours were. His shaggy hair hung low over his face, giving him an innocently youthful expression. He seemed so sweet, so different from the alpha that kept you caged in his home…

“We would,” you agreed, carefully reaching your hand out to his.

He took it carefully, almost afraid to respond to your touch.

“Your alpha wouldn’t like this, would he,” Shaun turned to look at you, his eyes almost golden in the sunlight.

“He wouldn’t,” you agreed, “but I don’t really care.”

You leaned in close, but just as you closed your eyes, your phone rang.

You snapped back to attention and wrenched it out of your pocket. It was König. You watched it ring once, twice, then tucked it back into your pocket.

“I don’t really care what he thinks,” you huffed.

“So, um, I guess you gotta go home now?” Shaun laughed, the tension between you thoroughly shattered.

“I guess,” you sighed before perking up briefly, “can I get your number? We can still talk and stuff. I’ve only just moved here, so it would be nice to know someone locally.”

“Sure, uh, just hand it over,” Shaun took your phone from you, trying to suck the sugar off his fingers before typing away and handing it back to you, “sorry about all the, uh, sugar and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you tucked your phone back into your pocket before typing your number into his and giving it back to him, “but yeah, it was great meeting you Shaun.”

“It was great to meet you too,” Shaun grinned.

“Well,” you looked at the bus stop across the street, “I guess I gotta go now.”

“Call me when you get home, yeah?” Shaun asked as you walked off.

“I will!” you promised and turned back to the bus.

“Where were you?” König hounded you as soon as you stepped through the door.

“I was out at the market,” you replied as you hauled the groceries into the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you text me?” König asked, drumming his fingers against the countertop nervously.

“I forgot,” you said as you put away a bag of carrots, “it happens.”

“But you…” König squinted and frowned, “where’s your collar? Did you already take it off?”

“I forgot to take it with me,” you replied quickly as you whirled around to put away a bunch of tomatoes.

You turned back to the counter but slammed into König’s chest. You stumbled back to glare up at him, but his worried face caught you off guard.

“Were you okay?” König asked, placing his palms on your shoulders, “nobody hurt you, did they? How could you forget your collar? You need to take care of yourself, ja?”

“I was fine,” you pushed back from him coldly.

König stepped to the side to let you carry on putting away the produce, shrinking in on himself awkwardly.

“Are you sure?” König asked nervously, “you smell… Different.”

“Somebody helped me around,” you explained easily as you turned away. When you turned back, König’s face had become downright stormy.

“Who helped you,” König’s voice was flat and cold like an iron sword.

“Some guy at a stall,” you tried to shake off the nerves that crawled up your back.

“An alpha?” König stepped in close.

You stopped what you were doing to look back at König closely. He had leaned in close, almost menacing in how he now crowded your form.

“Maybe?” you shrugged, “I didn’t really pay attention.”

König stopped you from turning away and leaned in close. Before you could say anything, he rubbed his neck against yours quickly, once on each side. He stepped back, but kept his grip on your shoulders.

“Better,” he said quietly.

“What’s wrong with you?” you spat.

König watched you carefully, taking in how you puffed up with frustration in his hold. A part of him seemed to soften as he took in your form.

“We need to keep up appearances,” König replied dryly.

“That’s bullshit,” you scoffed.

König ducked his head, but the grip on your shoulders tightened. He grimaced, then turned back and tucked you into his chest.

“Appearances matter,” his voice cracked slightly, but you didn’t mention it.

Instead, when you stepped back you trailed a hand on his chest, “Why do you care so much?”

“Appearances,” König choked out.

“That’s not why you care,” you tried to let your hand fall on his cheek but he was quick to duck away.

“It’s all that matters,” König’s voice was faint as he left the room, “it’s what keeps us safe.”

You watched him leave the room quietly. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, but you weren’t as eager to pick up the phone this time.

AU Masterlist

[frogchiro]

*tearing into a whole pound of pork ribs*

🥺 alpha graves may not be the big burly size of 141 but he makes up in it with the amount of food (hunt) he can make, a alpha protects and feeds his family and he’s the perfect mix.

ALPHA GRAVES ALPHA GRAVES YES YES

He's always getting teased by the other guys that he's small for an alpha and that an omega like you would never choose him due to his smaller and leaner statue, that you wouldn't consider him because he appears to be weaker, has less potent sperm and is less fertile, couldn't give you big healthy pups :((

But they underestimate him! Yes sure Philip may be smaller than the rest of them but that makes him quicker, more agile and put brains above brawn! He will chuff and smirk at those big brawny meatheads while putting a tactical arm around your shoulders and discretely scent you as you're happily chirping and telling him about your last hacking job you did for Laswell. Graves can only feel smugness as he watches the other alphas go crazy seeing that the 'inferior alpha' is literally like 'I got your bitch' 😭

[soaps-mohawk]

Summary: Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it.

It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks. 

As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.

Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all. 

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, NSFW content, explicit smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), knotting, biting, claiming, mating cycles, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, age differences, military inaccuracies, canon typical violence, blood, weapons, language, no use of Y/N, brief torture, hurt/comfort, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Chapters containing smut are marked with a *

Updates are posted on the weekends, either Saturday or Sunday PST

This fic can also be found on my Ao3 -> HERE

I will no longer be using a taglist for this fic, please follow THIS BLOG and turn on notifications

**This fic is currently in progress**

NAVIGATION PAGE CRCB DIRECTORY

Part 1 - The Omega

Chapter 1 - The Introduction Chapter 2 - Adjustments Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful Chapter 5 - What I Want *

Part 2 - The Bond

Chapter 6 - One Step Closer * Chapter 7 - Sweet Strawberry Chapter 8 - The Thing About Ghost Chapter 9 - Save Me Chapter 10 - Treat Me Gently*

Part 3 - The First Heat

Chapter 11 - It's Coming Chapter 12 - Fire In My Veins* Chapter 13 - Piece Me Back Together* Chapter 14 - The Aftermath*

Part 4 - The New Normal

Chapter 15: Bonnie* Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes * Chapter 17: Alone Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go Chapter 19: Daddy Issues Chapter 20: The New Normal * Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment * Chapter 22: I Won't Be Gentle

Part 5 - A Pack of Five

Chapter 23: Regrets Chapter 24: The Last First Time * Chapter 25: Animals * Chapter 26: Fuck * Chapter 27: Drown In It * Chapter 28: Two Is Company, Three Is A Party * Chapter 29: There's Something Wrong With My Omega

Part 6 - The Tragedy

Chapter 30: Butterfly's Wings Chapter 31: Forced Proximity Chapter 32: The Tragedy Chapter 33: Ghosts of the Past Chapter 34: The Whole Truth

Part 7 - The Aftermath

Chapter 35: Threads Chapter 36: To The Sea Chapter 37: The Silence Chapter 38: Shattered Chapter 39: Life

Title card made by the beautiful @141wh0re

[ink-n-shadow]

Being knotted in John’s lap as he mumbles that he’s gonna breed you full of his babies right here in his office

(Or literally any of them bc 🫠🫠)

Or your boys rubbing their faces in your neck before they go to work in the morning bc they’ll be damned if they don’t go to work smelling like you

the second idea is so adorable heLLO???

SCENTING

𝜗𝜚 the one about how the pack!141 scents you (almost) every day

𝜗𝜚 pairing: packforce!141 x omega!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: slight smut at the end (minors—DNI), scenting, kissing/sucking scent glands, fingering (reader!receiving), allusions to threesome at the end

it would become so routine and mundane for the five of you, something that came almost as natural to you as breathing.

the routine would begin at around 4 in the morning when john begins stirring in bed, mumbling out your name as his hands pat around the mattress and other bodies for you. once he found you (which was curled up with johnny, most of the time), he’d tug you against him, instinctively burying his face into the side of your throat and nudging your scent gland with the tip of his nose. he would lap at it, give it a bite or two, smother it in soft almost feathery kisses, anything to make your sugary sweet scent stick to his skin.

and once john’s had his fill and gets out of bed to amble downstairs for coffee and a cigar, simon’s coming up from behind, tugging your back against his chest and holding your throat in the palm of his hand as he immediately attaches himself to your gland. he’s more primal in his movements than john is, taking long (almost lewd) drawn out sniffs from your neck as he rubs his stubbled cheeks in the smell of you. (he may or may not dip his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear, sliding through the wetness there before bringing his fingers up to lap at hungrily. but hey! at least he makes you come!)

seeing you whimpering and slack across the mattress is what makes kyle move over in bed, gathering your now jellied form into his arms and pushing your head into the crook of his neck. because kyle’s a beta, there is no scent gland for you to nuzzle into, but the smell of soap and lotion on his skin is enough to have you further relaxing in his arms, head still spinning and clit still throbbing beneath your underwear.

johnny only scoots over in the bed and cuddles up with you from behind when he notices the lack of body heat against him, making him whine sleepily and paw at the mattress until he finds you against kyle. by now, you’re drowning in the different scents covering your skin, not to mention the new scent of arousal and slick festering between your thighs. johnny finds comfort in them all, which immediately has his brain feeling dumbed and his cock twitching to attention.

if it’s not too late, johnny will let you ride him, with kyle in front of you and guiding your movements with his large hands pawing at your hips. if it is too late, then kyle’s drawing johnny out of bed with promises of a blowie in the shower

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[novemberheart]

{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 🧡

[angelloverambles]

Alpha!Nikto who feels like a failure as an alpha. As a result of his time with Mr. Z, his scent gland is damaged. Heavy scarring covering the area, making his scent hard to find. While it's helpful for the job, it's not helpful in attracting a mate. He’s getting older, he wants to settle down. Maybe have a pup or two. None of the other operators of KorTac know his want to find a mate, why would he bother to tell them? Why do they need to know? 

Until a scouting mission with you. An easy mission, really just sitting and waiting but in the heat of the sun? He's absolutely sweltering in his gear, his scent only truly clinging to his sweat. His scent is wonderfully masculine, smokey and warm like a bonfire, promising warmth and comfort. He doesn't say a word about his own scent, thinking you don't notice it, but it's hard to resist sliding closer to him. It’s hard to tame the urge to investigate further. 

Maybe he’d let you, all you'd have to do is ask…

[ghouljams]

Oh wait, hold on:

Scent blockers in omegaverse but they actually work the opposite way. Instead of blocking your scent they just dampen your sense of smell, literally blocking you from other scents...

Discretely trying to get on scent blockers around omega!Ghost because he's been trying to get you scent drunk since your last rut and it's starting to make it hard working with him. Pissy bitch tosses them as soon as he finds them and starts leaving his boxers in your room as retaliation.

[devil-in-hiding]

i’m in a simon mood as of late i suppose because the thought of alpha!price having to keep his lieutenant away from his precious omega!assistant who just smells too good for your own good it drives Ghost wild, the three other men knew the minute he laid eyes on you he laid claim (though he and Price buttheads because you’re PRICE’S assistant)

[queenhunter102]

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.

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe. It's implied reader is American.

141 have a simple mission; destroy an underground compound working on creating chemical weapons. Then they find you, and become exposed to a world they never knew existed. They want to find a cure, you just want your freedom. For now you have to live with each other.

Chapter 1 - The Sweet Escape

Chapter summary: You've been trapped for so long, so many years. Now you've been rescued, but you've dragged others into this horrible world. A world you don't even know that well yourself.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of heat cycles, mentions of knotting scenting typical a/b/o universe tropes, mentions of abuse, mentions of injuries, fighting, mentions of animal abuse.

Credit to the amazing; @rememberwren who helped beta read, correct my grammar and helped with ideas no matter how crazy they seem.

Masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

The first thing you see is the the light. You had always been kept in a dark room, a dark place. Cold and dark, being surrounded by strangers, scientists, people you only got to meet in passing. People who stare at you, poke you, whisper things around you like you’re an animal they’re studying.

The next thing is the voices, shouting, it sounds almost foreign to your ears. Maybe this is it, this is the end, the horror stories they would tell you to scare you into submission were coming true. 

You drag yourself across to the corner of your room. The bland square room you’ve been imprisoned in for longer than you can remember, a place you had dreamt of leaving. Now you want nothing more than to stay.

Maybe the people know who you are, know how important you are? It’s the smell next, 4 of them in total, 4 men. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You’ve had a lot of training when it comes to determining scent, they smell angry, focused. It doesn’t help that you know the only scent you’re putting out is fear. 

You hug your legs tight, shivering, the room now lighting up more and more as doors open and close. You hear voices, gunfire, you slap your hands around your ears trying to block out the noise. It makes you jump. The scent is stronger now, they’re close, you hold your breath, and close your eyes as the door to your room is flung open.

“Price we’ve got a civilian!” a man shouts. You can’t see him through your tear filled eyes. He’s shining a light in your face, he lowers it as you try to pull yourself deeper into the corner. Another man appears, he smells different. He steps into the room bending down in front of you. The light moves from your face down your body, you can make out the features of the man in front of you. He doesn't seem angry. He’s on your level as he looks you over. 

“Hello, what are you doing here?” he asks. You’re too stunned to speak. He smells kind, calm, collected. You stare at him wide eyed. What if he’s masking? What if this is all just one big test? You whisper your name. It’s all you can manage. 

“What happened to your leg?” he asks, shining a light on it. You don’t know what to say. It was punishment for trying to leave. Would he believe you? 

“Can you walk?” he asks. You shake your head. You probably could, you just don’t want to. He stands back up. 

“Charges are set captain, Soap’s got an itchy trigger finger,” a new voice says. His scent is rough, masculine, then it’s almost like he has no scent at all. He makes you scared, nothing like the scent coming off the other two. It’s all you have to go off, determining whether you should trust them or not.

You blink tears away getting a closer look at them. One of them is wearing a skull mask, you assume he’s the one with no scent. They’re all dressed in military gear, massive weapons in their hands or swung over their backs. It makes you tense as you try to listen to their conversation. 

The older one they call captain looks over at you, he looks focused, ordering people around. Calm and collected, his voice level, commanding, you watch the man with the skull mask leave. 

“We’re going to get you out of here okay?” the captain says, bending down and looking directly into your eyes. You nod staring back at him as he takes a step closer to you. You squeeze your knees. He nods standing back up, you shift slightly trying to keep the weight off your ankle. The other man bends down, you flare your nostrils breathing him in. He also smells kind, warm, safe. You let him come near you as he swings his weapon over his shoulder. 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” he says. You nod, believing him. He smiles, hooking one of his arms under your knees and the other arm around your back. You bring your arms around his neck, pressing your palm against the base of his skull. You feel goosebumps rise on the back of your neck. You’re surprised he’s letting you touch him like this.

You’re squished up against his vest as he carries you out the room. The smell of blood fills your nose as you see bodies on the floor. You gasp, gripping his neck and looking away as he takes you out through the lab. He takes you down corridors, up stairs, you see rooms you’ve been in before, other’s you’ve never seen.  

You can hear sounds of nature, birds, then a truck. There is sunlight, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen sunlight. It’s warm on your face and you have to squint. You feel relieved, your head is swimming with the overpowering new sensations. You can feel a breeze, it’s warm.

You can finally smell the familiar scents of alpha and beta fill your nose making you dizzy. Your body feels heavy as you’re put in a seat. You feel drained, sticking your head out as far as you can looking at the clouds moving across the sky. You see trees swaying in the breeze, you see birds flying in the sky, you smile watching them fly away.

You look back at the man who carried you out. Stood in front of you as he leans out the back of the truck. He’s cute, dark skin and eyes. He turns to look at you and smiles, a proper smile not like the fake smiles you’re used to. He turns round, opening a crate, pulling out a blanket. You accept it as he pulls it round your arms, you breathe him in, he smells kind.

“Thank you,” you say. It doesn’t feel like enough, you want to thank him for everything, the blanket, the rescue. These people are clearly not involved with the professor or the other people you’ve met. It was rare but you would see people who you assume were military. They were always introduced as ‘general this’ or ‘major that.’ They always wore nice blue and black suits with lots of shiny badges. You used to ask about them when you were younger. As you got older you stopped caring.   

You look out of the back of the van with him, you can see it now for the first time. It's like an underground bunker. It’s such a small opening you almost can’t believe how large the structure is underneath, and you hadn’t even seen all of it. The captain from earlier walks out being followed by two other men, the guy with the scary skull mask and the 4th person. He’s dragging what looks like a wire. They all step up to the back of the truck before the guy with the wire presses a button. There’s a few seconds of silence then a rumbling beneath the earth, sounds of distant explosions as the ground shifts. 

It only lasts a few seconds then you see the entrance to the bunker collapse on itself. That’s it, it’s gone, the place you’ve been trapped in for most of your life destroyed in a matter of minutes. The captain turns and looks at you, you meet his eye line flaring your nostrils to breathe him in. 

He smells like an alpha now, his scent is overwhelming. You hold your breath to stop it from overpowering you. When you breathe again you can smell another alpha. You look at the group of men trying to figure out who the other one is. It has to be the guy in the mask, they all turn to look at you.

The masked man’s eyes dig into you. He’s the other alpha, his scent hits you like a slap to your face, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as black spots appear in your vision. You can’t breathe with how thick the air feels, it’s a bombarding of sensations. You try to blink the spots away but it doesn’t help then everything goes black.  

“You weren't joking,” Laswell says as she makes it to the med-bay, walking up to Price.

“Who is she?” Price asks, watching you through the glass window as medics fuss around you. 

“They were working on a project called the Omega Initiative, I always assumed it was a chemical weapon of some kind. Reading back over the documents though, I believe she is the omega they’re referring to.” She explains.

“What, she’s a weapon? Specially trained or something?” Gaz asks, coming up to look through the window too. 

“More than that. I would need some time to go over the intel again, especially the new data you’ve bought for me. I can let you know the moment I know more,” Laswell says, turning to the room exit. Price nods, his eyes still glued to you in the bed. 

“Do any of you feel any different?” she asks before she steps out of the room. Price turns to look at her frowning. 

“I could use a nap,” Soap says, stretching. Laswell just hums. 

“What is it?” Price asks. She shakes her head looking at him. 

“Probably nothing. I’ll get back to you as soon as I know anything,” she says leaving down the hallway. Price turns back to look through the window watching your chest rise and fall. The medics finished their fussing standing back talking to the nurses.  

“Soap, LT, go get some rest. Gaz help Laswell,” Price says. 

“Sure you don’t want to debrief?” Ghost asks. 

“Later,” Price says. There’s something about you he can’t shake. “I’ll find you when Laswell knows more.” His hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, it’s almost like it itches. He feels different. Maybe he should get checked by medical, he could have inhaled something in the lab. 

He pushes the thought away, he doesn’t want to leave your sight. It’s more than just needing to know who you are. He doesn’t want to be away from you. He would be in the room with you if it wasn’t for the doctors kicking them all out. Instead, he stands there watching, waiting. 

“John?” Price’s head snaps to see Laswell walking in. He looks back into the room he thought he’d only been staring in for a few minutes if that. The room is dark now that the doctors have gone. 

“Have you been here this whole time?” she asks, Gaz walking up behind her. Price looks confused. His legs and arms are stiff, the back of his head pounding. He feels dizzy, heading over to the chairs, and sitting down. Laswell sits next to him opening a laptop. Price keeps rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Are you sure you feel okay? It’s been 4 hours,” Laswell says. Price looks up at Gaz standing in the doorway. Why won’t he come in, he smells different. He looks just as confused as Price. 

“Something's different,” Price says. Laswell squints looking between them both. 

“Are you sure you didn’t get exposed to anything in that lab?” Laswell asks. John thinks back to the place. He doesn’t remember anything out of the ordinary. They definitely didn’t break anything. The scientists weren’t wearing protective clothing or gas masks. And then there was you, locked in a room in the far end of the lab. They could have easily missed you, then you would have been killed when the place blew. 

“Why, what did you find?” Price asks. Laswell sighs, pulling a file up on her laptop. It’s you, or looks like a younger version of you. She flicks to another document.

“Project Omega, or the Omega Initiative. It is a weapon, but not like you think. It was used primarily in World War 2 by the Soviets as a way to make the enemy go.. feral. Some kind of chemical bomb they would drop on enemies forcing them to revert to an animistic state. Causes disorientation, aggression, forces the enemy to attack itself.” Laswell stops, to see if Price is following. He nods. 

“The project fell apart and was scrapped. When the war was over the whole thing was destroyed and hidden. Somehow during the Cold War, America got their hands on the documents and the remainder of the formula. A scientist called Professor Victor Hale continued the experiments underground, literally. He perfected the formula and created her,” Laswell continues nodding at the window into the room. 

“What do you mean created?” Price asks. 

“She was a normal person, but when she was young she was exposed to the chemical which has changed the way her body functions. She’s still human, but her body functions differently,” she says. Price still looks confused and she flicks through to some reports. 

“I don’t really know how to explain this. She is what they call an omega, her body, hormone function and menstrual cycles function more like an animal. I haven’t had much time to wrap my head around it but it seems like they were studying her, trying to perfect the formula. They got pretty close, the professor being the first male to be exposed to the drug. He became an alpha.” She closes the laptop lid. 

“The scientist who came forward, the one who told us the location of the base is being flown out here. She’s a specialist doctor according to these files and she’s willing to talk. She will definitely be able to give us more answers,” Laswell says. 

“Do you think we’ve been exposed?” Price asks.

“I don’t know, do you feel any different?” Laswell asks. He shakes his head, physically he feels fine. There’s just something he can’t quite put his finger on. 

“Where’s the professor now?” Price asks.

“No idea. We assume he’s on the run, hiding, since you didn't see him at the bunker. There is also the possibility he was hidden there somewhere within the compound and went down with it,” Laswell says. 

“Think she could have answers?” Price asks, turning to look into your room. 

“Maybe but we should wait until she’s awake. They didn’t treat her well John, we don’t know how she’ll react,” Laswell says, stepping up.

“Let me know the moment the doctor gets here,” Price says as Laswell walks out the room with Gaz following her. There was something different about him, Price could feel it, he would need to talk to him later. 

“I will, in the meantime you should get some rest,” she calls back. Price walks up to the window again. He can’t leave you. 

When you open your eyes it's bright. You’re in a room with a window, you can see the sun. For a second you don’t think it’s real, but it is, you can see movement outside. The only time you would see anything like the outside world was the mural painted on the wall of the bedroom. You would only ever be in that room when you were in heat. It makes you feel sad. You swallow the lump away. That room was a horrible place, filled with pain and suffering. 

You look down. You’re in a hospital bed, your leg has been bandaged up and you’re connected to an IV line, you turn to look up, it just looks like fluids. The opening of a door makes your head snap over. It’s the captain from yesterday, and a new person, a woman. 

He smells like an alpha now, his scent strong, commanding. It makes you nervous. He walks over and stands at the end of the bed. The woman comes over and sits down in a chair next to you. She doesn’t smell of anything. You look at the man again, definitely army, he’s wearing a green shirt with camo sleeves. He’s handsome, looks younger in this light, he has kind eyes. He saved you, he could have left you behind, you’re no one to him. You turn to look over at the woman. 

“I’m Kate,” she says, introducing herself. You just stare at her not knowing what to do. Your eyes flick back to him, like you need to wait for his permission to talk. His scent is heavy in the room, you can tell he doesn’t know how to control it. It’s overwhelming. 

“You’ve been exposed to the chemical too,” you say, looking at him, your voice shaking. He looks confused for a second. 

“You smell like an alpha,” you explain. He comes round from the end of the bed, you freeze automatically, trying not to taint the air with your fear. You know alphas are the worst at picking up on scents but he’s clearly new and you don’t know how he would react. 

You drop your shoulders baring your neck for him, you watch his nostrils flare when he gets close to you. You know he can smell you now, your omega scent on full display just like you’ve been taught. He could reject you right now. If you don’t smell right or look right, that could be it. You try really hard to keep still waiting until he’s finished. 

“You smell, like strawberries,” he says, pulling away from you. 

“You smell like an alpha,” you say again, you don’t know how to describe it. He moves back round to the end of the bed. 

“So you can tell by smell?” Kate asks. You nod. 

“Omegas are the best at it, and I’ve been trained,” you say rubbing your hand on the back of your neck. 

“What else have you been trained to do?” she asks. You shrug. 

“I just do what I was told to do,” you reply looking down. 

“And what were you told to do?” she presses. You swallow feeling heat rush to your cheeks. 

“My role is to do as my alpha tells me, and breed with him, eventually.” You don’t know why you feel embarrassed. It’s true though, it’s your only ‘mission.’ The professor was going to be your alpha, claim you during your next heat. He’s dead now, and you’re happy he’s dead. He was horrible to you. If he had claimed you, you would have been bound to him forever. 

“That’s what they were working on?” Kate asks. You shrug. You don’t know, you weren't always told much. 

“Do you have an alpha?” She asks.

“The professor, he was going to be my alpha, but I guess not now.” You look at the man at the end of the bed. Would you let him claim you? It’s not like you'll have a choice, at least these people seem nice enough. They did rescue you, you don’t feel any connection with him yet. 

“What happened to your leg?” the man asks. You realize you haven’t even learnt his name. 

“They broke it, I tried to run away,” you say, digging your nails into your palm. 

“Did they do that a lot?” he asks, his voice low sending shivers up your spine. You can almost taste the anger in the air. It’s a scary thing, an alpha’s anger, especially for an omega. 

“It’s okay, my bones heal quickly, wounds too. You’ll be the same,” you say, trying to put him at ease. It doesn’t seem to work. 

“Is there a cure for this?” he asks, looking over at Kate. She looks at you. You shake your head, if there was a cure you knew nothing about it. 

“What about the scientist, think she’ll have answers?” He asks, crossing his arms. 

“Possibly. Depends how much she’ll talk,” she says. 

“She’ll talk,” the man replies. You’re picking up on another scent, beta, and another alpha. You see through the window three men walk in. It’s the guy with the mask again who makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. 

He stands at the back of the room with his arms crossed. The other two are very clearly betas, the way they balance the energy in the room, even putting the alpha at ease without realising it. The man at the end of the bed turns to them as he explains some of the situation. 

“Gaz told us some of it but I’m still confused,” the tanned guy with the mohawk says. 

“I think we all are.” The alpha turns around again looking at you, his brow creased like he’s thinking. 

“Soap, go stand next to her.” 

The tanned man slowly comes over to you, you look over at the end of the bed. He gives you a quick nod. You swallow your nerves, baring your neck for him. It’s instinct, as soon as the smell of your omega hits his nose, he’ll bare his neck to you too. The smell of beta fills the air. It’s not as overpowering as the alpha, more mellow, like the smell of clean sheets. When he’s done he steps back, and you smile at him. He seems nice. 

“Johnny,” he says, introducing himself. You nod at him looking over at the end of the bed. 

“Beta,” you say. Johnny shrugs, walking back over to stand with the others. 

“Gaz.” He gestures for the other man to go over. This feels more normal, it feels like the days when the professor would bring volunteers in to smell you. Sometimes they would pass out. It always made you exhausted, scenting betas over and over for hours. You found out later they were all killed. 

Gaz walks over to you and you stretch your neck out. Another beta. He smells good, stronger than Johnny. You’re happy for anything other than the overpowering scent of alpha that’s been filling the room since he walked in. 

“You smell like strawberries,” he says. You nod, turning to the end of the bed. 

“Beta.”

“LT.” You know before he gets over to you he’s an alpha, you feel nervous. He’s big, his presence makes you want to hide under the covers. You relax your shoulders anyway, sticking your neck out as much as you can. You think he’s going to move the mask but he doesn’t. You close your eyes pushing down the fear and letting him breathe you in.

He smells like an alpha, there’s just something darker about him, it makes the breath catch in your throat. You swallow hard trying to get it to go away praying for it to be over soon. It happens like a flash, the scent of anger and jealousy filling the room. The looming presence next to you suddenly vanishes.

“John!” You hear he woman next to you shout. You yelp covering the back of your neck as you see two people wrestling on the floor. Oh shit, this is all your fault. You knew this was a bad idea, you should have said something. The two betas are dragging them apart. It’s not their fault, it’s natural instincts. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, pulling your sheets up your chest. You want to hide under them. 

“What the hell has gotten into you both!” Kate says as they’re held back from each other. 

“It’s just instinct,” you say, trying to keep your voice level. “Two alpha’s and an unclaimed omega.” You watch as they start to calm down, the betas let them go, their hands reaching round to rub their necks.  

“What the hell does that mean?” The man with the mask growls. It must be so confusing for them, this is your world and you don’t even know it that well.

“It’s me, it’s my fault,” you croak, you know you’re not helping by being in distress but you can’t help it.

“Okay, just everyone calm down,” Kate says standing between them both. “We don’t really know what’s going on and we won’t really know much until Dr. Montgomery gets here. Why don’t we just stay away from her until then.” 

“Dr. Piper Montgomery?” you ask frowning. Kate turns to you. 

“Yes, did you know her?” she asks. You nod.

“She was my doctor. She tried to help me get out, then she vanished. I was told she was killed.” Kate comes over to the bed. 

“She’ll be here tomorrow, think you could get her to explain the situation?” You nod enthusiastically, feeling calmed by the idea of seeing at least someone you know from before. And someone you trust, relief washes over you, she’s alive and she wants to help.  

“I’m sorry Simon,” you hear John say. That’s his name, John. It’s the name Kate shouted at him. The other man-Simon-just huffs and storms out the room.

“Soap, go with him,” John says. 

“Nice meeting you, lass,” Johnny says as he leaves the room. 

“Okay, get some rest, we’ll talk more tomorrow,” Kate says as you watch her usher the other two men out the room.   

No one comes back to see you for the rest of the day. The nurse brings you food, she gives you a sympathetic look. There’s something else there too though, deep in her eyes. You can almost smell it in the air. Fear. She’s scared of you, or what you are. They’re just confused.

You smile at her, to try and put her at ease but that just seems to make her face tighten up even more. You spend most of your time looking out the window watching the trees sway in the distance, the clouds move across the sky. Sometimes birds land on the lawn, they always make you smile, you watch them peck at the ground for food. 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen another living animal that wasn’t in a cage. You think back to the rabbits and rats from the labs. You always felt sorry for them the most, spending all their lives in cages just to eventually be killed.

You remember when you were little you asked the professor if you could keep one, a fluffy white rabbit you’d seen around a lot. He let you keep it, for a few days until he killed it in front of you to see your reaction. You never asked for another one. You ignored them when you saw them in the lab. You watch the birds fly away, you wish you could join them. When it gets dark out, the nurse comes back to check you one last time and give you some medication. 

“Vitamin D,” she says. You don’t know what that means, but you take it anyway. She moves over to close the curtains. 

“Wait, can you leave them open?” you ask, trying not to spook her. It’s the first time you’ve spoken a word to any of the medical staff. She lets out a little smile nodding, she fills something in on your chart then leaves the room, turning the lights low as she leaves. You turn to look back out the window, you can still see the trees lit up by the moon. It’s beautiful, it’s such a clear night too, you don’t know why it makes you sad. Maybe you’re just tired. It’s your first night of freedom, you close your eyes listening to the ambient noise of the room, the vents hissing, the distant sounds of people talking, doors opening and closing. 

Your dreams are filled with nice things, for the first time in years. You dream about being outside, breathing in the fresh air. You’re by a lake. You’ve never been to one before but you’ve dreamt of them. The water is warm as you stand there the water lapping round your ankles. You feel the dirt underneath your feet, between your toes. You look out across the water watching the sun set turning the sky all different shades of pink and orange. It’s perfect. You haven’t felt perfection in a long time. You bask in the dream, the wonderful dream you don’t want to wake up from.   

You can smell her before you see her, her familiar beta scent filling the air. She’s in cuffs with Kate and John following behind her. Your smile fades as she walks in the room. She looks exactly how you remember, short blonde hair, glasses, the signature red lipstick. Except she looks thin and older. Bags under her eyes, she seems tired, but she looks happy to see you, smiling as soon as your eyes meet.  

“Relax omega, they just don’t trust me yet,” she says. When she makes it to the bed, John walks behind, un-cuffing her. She rubs her wrists, picking up your chart. She sits down on the bed flicking through it. 

“How are you feeling?” She asks. 

“Okay,” you say, not knowing what to say. 

“How’s the leg?” she asks, getting up, pulling the sheets back. 

“Fine,” you say. She smiles. 

“I can’t do much of an exam without at least a stethoscope,” she says, turning to look at Kate and John. John nods at Kate and she leaves the room. 

“Did you get claimed by Hale?” she asks, leaning in a little closer. You shake your head.

“Good.” She squeezes your thigh, her scent is comforting, her squeeze is reassuring. You smile at her. Kate comes back with a stethoscope. She does a basic physical exam, listening to your chest and you answer her generic questions.

You’re used to this, even sticking out your finger for her to prick it before realising she doesn’t have any of her kit. You start to think maybe this was just to comfort you, a familiar routine, it’s not like she has anyone to answer to. No reports to fill out or tests to order.

“She seems fine. Her leg is fine, you can get them to take the cast off,” Dr. Piper explains as she goes to put the folder back at the end of the bed. 

“Maybe you can help us understand this a bit more,” John says. “How did we end up like her?” 

“You must have been exposed to enough of the chemical in the lab before you blew it up,” she says as a matter of fact. 

“It’s that simple?” John asks. 

“Yes, even I’ve been exposed, not by choice. I was lucky though. Anyone who didn’t fit the professor's perfect idea would be killed.” She explains. It makes you swallow hard. You knew the professor was killing people, it broke your heart when he told you she was dead. She was someone who was kind to you, a light in the never ending darkness. Other than the professor, she was the only other constant in your life. 

“You tried to help me escape,” you say. You feel her projecting a calming scent over you. 

“I tried, I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out.” You lean back in the bed letting her scent relax you.

“When was your last heat?” she asks. You count in your head for a second. 

“5 months ago,” you say. A pit forms in your stomach, it’s already been 5 months. She looks sympathetically at you, then looks over at John. 

“Are you going to claim her?” Piper says. 

“What does that mean?” he asks. 

“Omegas have one instinct, that is to be claimed by an alpha and eventually breed. An unclaimed omega is dangerous. She attracts other alphas to her, especially when she’s in heat. Then, you won’t be able to resist her,” Piper explains as you feel heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“A claimed omega will be bound to their alpha for the rest of their life. It is dangerous for alphas too. I’m sure you’ve already felt it. Like some kind of primal instinct, to protect her, mate with her,” Piper explains. You look over at John feeling embarrassed. You remember yesterday when he tackled the mysterious man to the floor. It was alpha instincts. 

You don’t know how you feel about John claiming you. You know when you’re in heat, you won’t care what happens. Maybe this time will be different though, actually having someone to help you through it. It will definitely make things less painful. Your eyes move back up to find John looking at you, his arms crossed listening to Piper talk. At least he seems kind, not like the other alpha, the one who sends shivers up your spine. 

“What if there are 2 alphas?” you ask. 

“I don’t know, Hale would kill any other alpha he didn’t torture for study,” she says, her eyes flick between you and John. 

“I would assume the alphas would fight until one came out on top, although if an alpha was to just claim you first it wouldn’t matter,” Piper says. 

“How does claiming work?” John asks. 

“Have you had any pain in the back of your neck?” she asks. John nods.

“When an alpha claims an omega, they will bite the omega on the back of the neck. It’s the most sensitive spot for any of you. It’s where your scent comes from, it’s how you scruff people. It’s one of the most sensitive spots on your body, especially for an omega,” she explains. 

“It’s a very intimate moment, just like knotting, or scenting,” she says. You nod at John. 

“Knotting? Scenting?” Kate asks.

“I don’t think you need to worry too much, a lot of things are instinctive. You will deal with them as they come up,” Piper sighs, sitting back down on the bed rubbing your thigh. Her scent is still in the air relaxing you, counteracting John’s overwhelming alpha scent. 

“Is there a cure for any of this?” Kate asks. 

“I don’t know, we weren’t exactly working on a cure but I would be happy to help with the medical side of things,” she says. “I’m a doctor first, specially trained to take care of the omega. That’s what Professor Hale hired and trained me for.” 

“You practiced experiments on living people, murdered people, not to mention worked with Soviet spies to sell American secrets,” Kate scoffs. 

“I never murdered anyone. I’m a doctor first. You’re going to want me around, especially when she goes into heat you’re going to need me,” Piper says. You can feel the anger rising in her. Even if this is just to save her own skin, she’s still the only person you really trust. 

“What can you do?” John asks. 

“Let me run some tests on you all, I can help you come to terms with what’s happening. But I’m an omega specialist, if you want more advanced or specific help you’re going to need to find the other specialists involved. I can give you the names of some of the people who left with me, maybe they’ll be able to help. Maybe they’ll be able to help me find a cure,” she says standing up. You can feel her scent weakening as she moves over to John, turning with her hands behind her back. John pauses for a second gripping the cuffs in his hands.

“You have to tell us everything you know.” He looks over at you. “Everything.” 

“I’ll tell you whatever you need to know, but you have to let me keep her safe,” Dr. Piper says, looking over at you smiling. 

“Fine, but you have to work on a cure,” John says. Piper turns round looking at him. 

“I will try, but that’s all I can promise,” she says. The scent of her sincerity fills the room. You watch John’s nostrils flare, you know he can smell it from her too. He puts the cuffs away. You smile at him. 

“I know this is new to you, I’m sorry you’re involved in this. Dr. Piper knows what she’s doing. I trust her,” you say. You don’t know if it will help, but maybe it will put John at ease.  

He lets out a sigh gripping Dr. Piper by the arm and pulling her out the room. Kate leaves with them too, smiling at you as she leaves. You trust Dr. Piper, you trust her to help them. They need it, more than you, at least you’re used to this world.  

John comes to visit you later in the evening. A doctor came in around midday to remove your cast. He murmured about how impossible it was that your break had healed so quickly. You stayed silent as he removed it and left as quick as he came in. 

“I thought we could have a chat, Dr. Piper filled us in with your past,” he says. His scent isn’t as strong this time, he’s more relaxed. 

“It’s not the most interesting story,” you say, forcing a smile. 

“How about we go outside for some fresh air,” he suggests. You like that idea, nodding at him. You pull the sheets off you to swing your legs out of bed a little too eagerly, but he insists you go in a wheelchair. You don’t fight him, letting him have his way. He gets a nurse who unhooks you from everything and helps you into the chair throwing a blanket over you like you’ve forgotten how to walk. John waves her away as he pushes you through the medical wing out to a smoking area at the back of the building. 

“Where are we?” you ask as he maneuvers you so you can look out over the field.

“It’s an army base in Wisconsin,” he says. You can see the wall stretching around the place, you’ve never been in an army base before. You’ve never really been outside before. You remember being outside as a child, before your mother died. 

“It looks like it’s going to rain,” he says, sitting down on the bench next to you. You can’t remember the last time you saw rain or the last time you saw the clouds so dark and moody like they’re about to burst. It makes you smile, in a weird way it's comforting. 

“You don’t sound American,” you say, looking over at him, leaning back crossing his arms. 

“I’m not. Me and my team are British,” he says. 

“What are you doing in America?” you ask. 

“Work. Our latest job being to blow up the place we found you in,” he says. 

“Why?” 

“Just following orders, we stop terrorism. Your professor ended up on our radar after we got wind he was working with chemicals, and selling secrets to…some not very nice people,” he says. You look at him, the fresh breeze flowing around him pulling his alpha scent away. Now it’s just him and his kind eyes. 

“I’m sorry you’re involved in this,” you say, not moving your eyes from him. You want to see his expression and see how he feels. 

“It’s not your fault, in a strange way I’m glad your safe,” he says. Safe. You haven’t felt safe in years. 

“It’s just cause you’re an alpha and I’m an omega,” you sigh, for a moment you really thought you could feel something. Maybe it was more than just instinct.

“Maybe it is, this is all still very new to me. Doesn't change the fact I want to see you safe.” 

“You attacked another alpha, I’m already causing problems,” you say, hanging your head. You see the first fat blobs of rain hit the concrete. 

“Simon? He’s over it already, we talked. It’s not a problem,” he says. Simon, remember his name. Maybe it’s not, but you can’t help but feel guilty. You sigh leaning back in the chair closing your eyes and enjoying the sound of the rain hitting the perspex overhang above your head. It feels nice being outside, the gentle breeze, the smell the rain makes as it hits the ground. 

“That’s the smell,” you say, your eyes flying open leaning forward in the wheelchair. 

“The rain?” he asks. You nod at him smiling. 

“That’s what you smell like,” you say, reaching your hand out to feel the water land on your fingers. He smiles looking over at you. 

“I heard you weren't treated so well back at the compound.” His voice is low, sincere. 

“No, well, it was-”  

“You don’t have to explain it,” he says, turning to face you. “Whatever happens with this, we’ll make sure you’re not in another situation like that.” 

“I know—I mean, I believe you,” you say, letting a smile hang on your lips. You look back out at the rain. It’s coming down heavier now. You hold your hand out again letting the cool droplets hit your fingers. You can feel John’s eyes on you, goosebumps raising on the back of your neck. You shiver. 

“Want to go inside?” he asks. You shake your head watching your hand get wet as the rain falls harder. You never want to be stuck inside again. 

Next Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

[gremlinmodetweeker]

An Olive Branch Among Thorns

Okay so more a/b/o König because heck why not. The last one was so angsty that I had to bring these two back together a bit. I mean, I can't have König just hating the reader, right? Nah there's gotta be more. Also, world building!

Story below cut

An Olive Branch Among Thorns

You’d spent the past week in König’s home off base. He came back every night, prepared you a meal, and then retired to his office before heading to bed. At first, you’d considered it rude. Then you considered the fact that he was hiding from you in his own home. With that understanding, you had more sympathy for the alpha as he tried to keep the distance between you.

Tonight, he was cooking something a bit more exciting than usual. It was a simple spaghetti, but it was better than the microwave meals he’d been making for the past few days. It was startling to see him cook, particularly because you’d realized the man was a far better cook than you’d chalked him up to be.

He diced the onions into fine little cubes before dashing them from the cutting board into a frying pan. The sizzles that came forth was ripping hot and bright, the only sound that filled the kitchen aside from the whirring fans of the fumehood.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked once more as you sat across the kitchen island.

König looked up at you. His ice cold eyes washed you over briefly, then trained themselves back on the floor.

“No.”

If you hadn’t been listening, his answer would have been lost among the thuds of the knife coming down on the cutting board.

You hated to watch, but he didn’t dare give you a single job to do. Instead, you hung about like an unwanted phantom, unable to tear yourself away from the only action you’d seen all day. Before König came home, you’d spent the day reading the books that covered the home like wallpaper, but you struggled to find something that kept your interest for longer than half an hour. It all seemed terribly dry.

When König had come home, you’d greeted him as you did every day, and he ignored you as he did every day. It was a painful routine to lose yourself in. You desperately wanted to have any sort of human interaction but he kept you shut in his home, out of sight out of mind. It was a simple way of keeping you, and for understandable reasons. He didn’t want to become attached. You desperately wished he would change his mind.

You watched the large man maneuver his body through the tiny kitchen with startling ease. You wondered how long he’d lived here to know just how to duck his head to avoid slamming it into the cupboards as he stood up. Evidently, long enough to figure out how to tuck his enormous frame under the fumehood.

You saw the pure hatred in his eyes when he turned back to look at you. He hid it behind a mask of concern, but you saw that brief flicker for long enough to know just what you were to him. A pest, if that. You knew he despised the fact that he had to care for you. If he could, he would toss you out by the scruff of your neck, but the SHA kept a strict eye on the status of matched couples. Then again, it wasn’t uncommon for alphas to harm their omegas. You’d heard too many horror stories of alphas losing control and tearing their omegas apart. There was a story on the news every other week about it. When König looked at you, the raw hatred that he exuded was enough to remind you of just what place you held in this world.

He hissed as a splatter of oil spat up onto his hand.

Instinctively, you ducked your head and apologized.

As he ran his hand under cool water, he turned to address you properly for the first time since he brought you home.

“Why are you sorry?” he barked.

You flinched and squeaked out, “I’m supposed to be cooking for you.”

König dried his hand and turned back to the frying pan without another word.

You thought that would be the end of it, but it seemed König had other ideas.

“You’re not expected to do anything for me,” he said quietly, “I’ve lived on my own for long enough.”

You scowled.

“What am I supposed to do then?” you challenged him, more vitriol in your tone than you intended.

You’d hoped he hadn’t noticed for a brief moment. Of course, by the way he set his shoulders back and drew himself up to his full height, you couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You,” he glared at you, “are meant to sit down and be quiet. That’s part of being an omega, ja?”

You grit your teeth, “Part of being an omega is providing for their alpha.”

König’s eyes sharpened as his nostrils flared, “Part of being an omega is listening to what an alpha says.”

“So what am I supposed to do all day?” you challenged him further.

König’s harsh glare softened to a defeated look, “I don’t know.”

You guessed you shouldn’t have expected him to know. So thus, you sat quietly and waited for him to finish making the pasta sauce.

Not much later, König turned back to you with a bowl full of spaghetti. Instead of passing it to you, he walked to the table and set the bowl across the table from him. You looked at him for further instruction, but he said nothing as he began to eat.

You slunk into the other chair and picked up your utensils. You looked between them and König, who was pointedly avoiding looking at you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly before eating.

His acknowledging hum was lost by the taste of the bright tomato sauce on your tongue. Fresh herbs entangled with the savory taste of meat as you took in another mouthful. For someone who only cooked microwave meals, you were surprised to find yourself enjoying the fresh meal.

“You like it?”

You looked up at König, who was watching you intently. You didn’t know if you preferred his absence or his intense interest.

“It’s great,” you said quietly before taking another mouthful.

“Gut,” König nodded and turned back to his meal.

You waited a bit before you decided to try and break the silence.

“Was work okay today?” you asked quietly, afraid of your own voice.

König didn’t reply and for a moment, you thought that maybe he hadn’t heard you.

After a brief pause, König cleared his throat, “It was. Was your day okay?”

You put your fork down briefly.

“There wasn’t much to do,” you admitted.

König nodded carefully. He drummed his fingers on the table before he looked back up at you, “It must be lonely here.”

You nodded timidly.

“I see…” König finished off his bowl. He stepped to the kitchen, piled more into his bowl and then sat down with a groan that was echoed by the chair.

“It’s not a big problem,” you tried to say but König waved you off.

“No, it is. You’re in my home now, so I’m responsible for you,” König grumbled as he took another mouthful, “I will give you a phone.”

A phone?

“You’re giving me a phone?” you looked at him strangely, “but aren’t omegas not supposed to own phones?”

König glared into his bowl, “Those rules are meaningless.”

“But what about the SHA?” you asked.

“There’s no laws barring omegas from having their own devices,” König grumbled, “that’s just a myth.”

You looked down at your hands. All this time you were allowed to have your own phone? Your father had strict control over your phone and laptop before you were taken into the SHA program. You’d never had unrestricted access. The thought boggled your mind.

“I can get you one tomorrow,” König promised, “and when I come home I’ll show you some forums where you can talk to others.”

“Other omegas?” you asked hopefully.

“If you’d like,” König offered, “or there’s mixed boards where you aren’t bound to messaging within your own class.”

“That exists?” your world was steadily falling apart at the seams.

König’s eyes widened, almost as though he was shocked or frightened by what was only obvious to you.

“You never knew of those?” König asked incredulously.

“My father never showed me those,” you told him.

“Your father controlled your access to the internet?” König scowled.

“Yeah? Every omega I’ve met uses restricted access devices,” you looked at him as though he’d just grown a second head.

“That’s…” König shook his head, “that’s not right. Look,” he lightly hit the table with his fist, “under this roof, you’re free to do as you please. It’s not my job to control you.”

“But you’re my partner,” you immediately winced.

“I’m not your mate,” König sighed. He tapped his spoon on the table once, twice, then took a deep breath before saying, “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. I never wanted a mate. It’s too… It’s risky, in this line of work.”

“How come?” you asked.

“Because you could lose me the next time I go overseas,” König explained, “I’m a soldier. I won’t stay here forever. When you lose me, you’ll be matched to another alpha-”

“Or a beta!” you interjected hopefully.

König’s eyebrows knit together.

“You don’t know much about the matching program, do you,” König stated flatly.

“I know enough,” you took a sip of water.

“Well, since you’re an omega O, you’re not likely to get matched with a beta,” König’s lips formed into a line, further exacerbated by a scar that ran back from the left corner of his mouth.

“But my mother was matched with a beta,” you refuted him easily.

“Was your mother and omega O?”

You crumpled into yourself.

“She was an omega A.”

König pointed his fork at you, “Exactly. Omega Os are matched with alphas almost exclusively. So after me, you’ll probably get another alpha. If you’re unlucky, an alpha A, like me.”

You shuddered.

König watched you carefully before turning back to his food.

“So I’m right,” he muttered, “you are scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” you retorted, “I just… I don’t know what other alphas are like.”

König frowned as he glanced up at you briefly, “You don’t know?”

“Not really,” you admitted, “I was in an omega only school growing up.”

König’s face fell, “So you have no idea what we’re like.”

You shook your head.

“Well,” König swirled his fork in his pasta, “we’re bigger. Stronger. You know all that though, everyone does.”

“You’re the biggest person I’ve ever met,” you admitted.

König snorted and shook his head, “I get that a lot,” he chewed carefully before swallowing heavily, “anyways, alphas are known to be aggressive, impulsive. Very…” he searched for a word, “primal. Back in ancient times, we were the ones to control territory and protect our people. Nowadays, we’re too head-strong for the modern world. So they use our bodies for labor, and we’re left to deal with these urges ourselves.”

“I know that stuff,” you tried to hide the tremor in your voice, “I watch the news.”

“What, with alphas tearing apart their partners?” König snorted, “half of those aren’t even real. It’s just a media stunt to turn the public against alphas. The same thing happens to omegas too. You’re made out to be weak nymphomaniacs. You see that too, right?”

You nodded.

“Most alphas will never hurt their partners,” König insisted, “ever. We don’t do that. We’re human beings, not monsters.”

“So you won’t hurt me?” you asked hopefully.

“Never,” König determined, “I would never hurt anyone I don’t have to. You, as my legal partner, will never be hurt by me.”

You nodded along. He’d never hurt you, but he’d never hold you close enough to hurt you either. You tried not to let it hurt you, you’d cried for days over your situation, and yet still it stung to hear ‘my legal partner’ instead of ‘my partner’.

You set your spoon down in your bowl with a final clank.

“I guess I’ll speak to you tomorrow?” you asked solemnly.

König looked down at your bowl and then back up at you.

“If you ever need me,” König traced the rim of his wine glass with a finger, “I’m usually in my office when I’m home,” he looked up at you with a heavy stare, “you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

You tore yourself away from his stare to go and clean your bowl. As you walked out of the room, you could feel his stare still lingering on you until you made your way into your bedroom. 

AU Masterlist

[godihatethiswebsite]

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 ✿ >>

[writersdrug]

Give me Alpha!König and Omega!Reader, but they both kinda hate the situation. You were gifted to Kortac as a 'thank you' from your family for protection, because what else are they going to do with an omega? Too risky to have you there already, you'd be an easy target for a diplomatic family like yours.

So they bounce you over to Kortac. Who decides giving you to the grumpy, stressed overworked Alpha might just fix him.

But... it doesn't really (yet). He doesn't like having something that relies on him, something that his superiors said he "needed" to help soothe him (soothe him? What is he, a child?!). And you're not happy about being handed off like a gift from your family. Blood is not thicker than water, apparently.

So there you sit, opposite ends of the table with König, a scowl on each of your faces. You're supposed to be scenting each other, but all you're doing is stinking up the room with your angry scents. The poor beta has their nose pinched and their eyes watering with how sour the room is, looking back and forth between the two of you as you stare around the ground, arms crossed, and König stares at his phone, tapping his meaty fingers on the table.

"Could you two please just get this over with so I can-"

"No." You both say in unison.

The beta sighs. "You both reek. I'm getting Commander." She says, slipping out of the room.

Finally, for a brief second, you both look at each other. König huffs and you scowl, looking away. You ignore that feeling of your Omega, latching onto the one thread of curiosity in your mind. You are NOT interested in this oaf of an Alpha.

(yes you are.)

--------------------

How do we feel about developing this? Got a lot on my plate I'd need to start hacking away at but this project has been on my mind for a while. Also got the A/b/o dynamics/processes/setup (idk the words aren't wording today, the "happenings" of how this universe works?) From @soaps-mohawk, so any "this is how it works" stuff is all credited to them!

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 10: Treat Me Gently

Summary: You and Price take your relationship to the next level. It might be the best decision you've ever made.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral, first time sex, unprotected(ish) sex, reader has an implant, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, the author is a bit rusty writing smut.

A/N: It's finally here. It's finally arrived, the moment we've all been waiting for! Uh, yeah, it's mostly badly written smut with just a little plot thrown in there. So...I hope you enjoy!

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Your attention is pulled from your book as the couch sinks on either side of you, two bodies joining you. You glance up from your book as an arm drapes itself across the back of the couch behind you. Your eyes flicker between Gaz and Johnny, mischievous grins on their faces. 

“We heard you have a date this weekend.” Gaz says, leaning in closer. 

Your face warms at his words. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a date...” 

“What are you wearing?” Gaz asks. 

“Do ye have anythin’ to wear?” Johnny asks. 

Their questions give you pause. The most formal thing you have are jeans and, though you doubt Price would care if you showed up in sweatpants, you would like to have something nice to wear. 

“Come on.” Gaz says, slapping your thigh before standing. “We’re going shopping.” 

“What?” You glance between him and Johnny as they stand over you. 

“Already got permission from Price.” Johnny says. “So come on.” He grabs your hands, lifting you to your feet easily. “Let’s get goin’, kitten.” 

Your cheeks warm at the pet name, Johnny’s hand settling on your lower back to steer you from the rec room. You don’t have much of a choice but to follow, grabbing a couple things from your room before you leave the barracks with them to a car parked outside. It’s different from the car you and Price had taken to town last weekend. Of course, they probably all have their own vehicles, or at least a few at their disposal. 

“I’m driving.” Gaz says, plucking the keys from Johnny’s hand. 

“Aww, ye never let me drive!” Johnny pouts. 

“Yeah, because with our luck you’ll traumatize her so badly, she’ll never want to leave again.” Gaz says, opening the driver’s side door. 

You can’t help but giggle at the dejected look on Johnny’s face as you get into the back, Johnny muttering the entire way to the passenger side. 

“I’m no’ that bad of a driver.” Johnny says, buckling his seatbelt. 

“Yeah, but both you and Simon seem to be in agreement that the speed limit is a suggestion, not a law.” Gaz says as he turns on the car. “I’d like to make it there and back in one piece, thank you. Besides, Price would have both our heads if anything happened to our girl on our watch.”

Your cheeks warm as you meet Gaz's gaze through the rear view mirror. Your heart flutters at the look in his eyes, the dedication and protectiveness shining in them. 

“I wouldnae let anything happen to ye.” Johnny says, reaching back to squeeze your knee for a moment. 

You stare out the window of the car as Gaz drives towards town, half listening to the conversation in the front seat. You're beginning to recognize landmarks, buildings, areas between the base and town despite it only being your second trip. They'd be proud of you, you think. At least if something happened, you'd be able to give a landmark. 

The farmlands fade into the city and soon Gaz is parking on the street in front of a shop. You take Gaz's hand as he helps you out of the car, lacing your fingers together. Soap holds the door to the shop open, letting you and Gaz walk through first. 

It's a nice boutique filled with all sorts of formal wear. You wonder how they even knew about this place, or if they had done some research beforehand. Both make you feel honored that they would even go to those lengths just for you. 

They are going to be your pack soon. 

Packs do this sort of thing for each other. They take care of each other, spoil each other, make each other happy. It’s hard to be a good pack if one member is unhappy. 

“Good afternoon.” One of the workers approaches you. “My name is Emily. Is there something I can help you find today?” 

“Our omega has a date with our alpha this weekend.” Gaz says, smiling down at you. “She needs something to wear.” 

The worker, Emily, smiles at you. “How exciting! Did you have anything in mind? Style, color, anything like that?”

“Probably nothing too fancy,” You say, eyeing the racks. “And, probably a dress.”

“Alright, we've got lots of options for that. Let's take a look and you can try some on.” Emily says. 

Gaz keeps hold of your hand as you follow Emily through the racks, looking at some of the options. Johnny goes off on his own, perusing the racks himself. 

“Is there a certain color you have in mind?” Emily asks you.

You hum in contemplation, looking at the many racks. You're not sure what color Price would like, or if he even has a favorite. 

“His favorite color is blue, like a dark navy blue.” Johnny answers for you. “Though, I think he'd like you in any color.” 

You can't help the way your cheeks warm a bit at Johnny's words. You realize you don't even know their favorite colors. There's still so much about them that's a mystery to you. 

“What's your favorite color?” You ask, looking up at Gaz. 

“I don't think I have just one.” He says, running his hand over a sequin covered dress on the rack in front of you “I like warm colors. Reds, oranges, purples.”

“Like a sunset.” You say, looking at a tag on one of the dresses, nearly choking at the price. 

Gaz gently removes the tag from your hand, giving you a look as you meet his gaze. “Don't even worry about it, love.” He says quietly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. 

“My favorite color is green.” Johnny says, appearing next to you suddenly. 

“Let me guess, Ghost’s is black.” You say. 

Johnny's mouth twitches. “Now how'd you come to guess that?” 

You shrug, unable to hide your grin. “Call it intuition.” 

Emily takes you to the changing rooms, the boys taking seats outside to wait for you to try on the dresses you've chosen so far. You pick a sleeveless, blue, knee-length dress first with a ruched skirt. You already don't like it, but you know the guys will want to see it regardless. 

You feel nervous, strangely exposed as you step out of the dressing room and make your way to where the guys are sitting. They both straighten up as you approach, Johnny’s eyes immediately on your legs. Gaz let's out a low whistle as his eyes scan your figure, ending on your legs as well. 

“What?” You ask concerned as you stare down at your own legs thinking the worst, like how you might have missed a spot shaving or something. 

“Nothin’ love,” Gaz says, unable to lift his gaze from your legs. “Just never seen you in anything but long pants before.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. It's true, the climate had yet to allow for anything but long pants. Even to sleep, you found yourself too cold without long sleep pants. 

“Christ, you've got gorgeous legs, kitten.” Soap says, letting his eyes trail your form. “Keepin’ those hidden from us?” 

Your face feels like it's on fire as they stare at you, and quickly turn to face the large mirror across from them in an attempt to steady the butterflies in your stomach. 

“What do you think?” Emily asks, stepping up next to you. 

“It's a little too...churchy for a date.” You say smoothing your hands over the skirt. “Definitely need something fancier than this.”

You try on a few of the others, but none of them are right. Too short, too long, too formal, not formal enough. Johnny brings you more to try, a couple sticking out, but you're not sold on any of them. 

The last dress you have yet to try on catches your eye as you pull it off the hook. It's a deep blue color, almost black. It's long sleeved and covers your front entirely, but the back is open. It's short, the skirt hem long enough to cover your ass, but you wouldn't dare bend over. It hugs your figure, accentuating the curves and lines of your body. 

Your cheeks are warm as you step out of the changing room, both Gaz and Johnny going slack-jawed as they stare at you. Even Emily looks in awe as you stand in front of them. 

“I think you've found the one, love.” Gaz says, his eyes trailing your form. “Give us a spin.”

You do a slow turn, not missing the way their eyes widen in the mirror when they see the back, Johnny still frozen as you turn back to face them. 

“How do you feel?” Emily asks, stepping up to you. 

“Good.” You say, your face still warm. “Really good.”

“Yeah,” She says, looking you over. “I think you've hit the mark with this one. Let me grab shoes and we'll put the whole look together.”

You turn to face the mirror as she steps away, your eyes meeting Gaz's as he steps up to you. 

“You look fantastic, love.” He says, leaning in close over your shoulder, his breath fanning your ear. Goosebumps form on your skin as his fingers slowly trail up the line of your spine. “Price is going to want to devour you instantly as soon as he sees you in this one.”

You shiver at his words, biting your lip as his fingers splay out across your upper back. “You think so?”

There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “He won't be able to keep his hands off you. Gonna drive him insane, making him sit through dinner looking like a delicious dessert.” 

You fear you might start smoking from how warm you feel, glad for Emily's reappearance. You try on the shoes she brings, opting for the shorter heels for the sake of your own dignity. 

Johnny distracts you as Gaz pays for the items, spending far too much on you but neither will let you complain. It's what they're supposed to do. 

They are your pack after all. 

“What about lingerie?” Johnny asks, turning to look at you as you sit in the car. 

Your face burns at his question. You hadn't thought about that bit. 

“Gotta dress up the whole fit.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Lay off her, perv.” Gaz says, smacking Johnny's chest. “He's right though, gotta make sure the whole outfit matches.”

You feel like you might implode in the backseat. You might not make it to Saturday at this rate. 

You wake early on Saturday. You don't have to be up early. There's nothing going on until tonight, no need for you to rise earlier than the sun. Yet, you can't help the anticipation burning in your stomach, the nervous fluttering in your chest. Tonight you're going to sleep with Price for the first time. Tonight you'll allow him closer than you've ever allowed anyone. 

You have an outfit, you have fancy underwear, even new shoes. You're not sure how you want to wear your hair. You're not sure on makeup either, though Price has seen you plenty without it and has yet to offer any complaints. 

You grab your phone, laying in bed and scrolling hair tutorials until the sun comes up and you start hearing movement in the hallway. You don’t bother changing, pulling on shoes before stepping out. You are hungry, even after spending half the day in town and eating dinner out with Gaz and Johnny yesterday. You slip out the door, coming face to face with Ghost. You tilt your head back, staring up at him. 

“Didn’t expect to see you.” He grumbles. “Figured you’d be busy getting ready.” 

“I’ve got like ten hours until I have to be ready.” You say, blinking up at him. “It doesn’t take that long.” 

He lets out a huff, rolling his eyes. “Come on.” 

You follow him out of the barracks, but you find yourself not having to speed walk quite as fast to keep up with him today. 

“Are you upset?” You ask, kicking up your pace a bit so you can walk side by side with him. 

“About what?” He asks. 

“Price and I.” You say. 

“Why would I be?” He sounds genuinely baffled that you’re asking him. 

You shrug. “You’re an alpha in the pack too, and I didn’t really ask anyone but Price.” 

“Price is your alpha.” He says, as if it’s the most straightforward thing in the world. He’s not wrong, Price is the only one that really matters when it comes to you, since he’s the pack alpha, and he’ll be the one claiming you. 

“Would you ever want to be?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He meets your gaze as he opens the door to the mess, not answering as you slip into the hall. He stands closer to you than he normally does as you get in line for food, tailing you like a shadow as you find Johnny among the drowsy and hungover soldiers in the mess. 

You take a seat across from him, Ghost taking his spot next to Johnny. You can feel the nerves beginning to take hold as you eat, thinking about your date tonight. It’s not like you really have to impress Price much, though you suppose you could make him dislike you rather easily. You’d rather avoid that situation, as there’s no getting out of mating and being claimed by him. You’re going to be part of his pack whether he likes you or not. 

What if he finds you boring? You’re not even sure what you could talk about. It’s not like you do much, and he already knows most everything he can about you. The only thing you have to talk about are things you’d rather not discuss during your first date. You’d prefer not to discuss them at all. 

“You’ll be fine.” Johnny says as you walk back to the barracks. “Just get ‘im talking, and ye won’t need tae worry about gettin’ a word in yourself.” 

Johnny’s words do make you giggle. You’re sure Price has so much more to talk about than you do. You barely know anything about him in general. 

It’s ironic that you’re more nervous about dinner than you are about the fact Price is going to take your virginity tonight. 

You did ask for this. It’ll be good, getting to know him before your heat starts. The idea of going through your heat with a virtual stranger is terrifying to you, and Price had so willingly offered to do this so that doesn’t happen, so you feel more comfortable with being mated and claimed by someone you at least somewhat know. This is your chance to get to know your pack alpha, your alpha before you’re forced to. This is your chance to make your own decision, to have some control over a life that’s been dictated for you this far. 

You spend the morning in a nervous panic, looking up tips online, tutorials, possible questions he might ask and thinking up answers that will make you sound interesting at least. Answers that won’t just be parroting things that he already knows. Gaz brings you lunch, letting you continue to prepare for your date, knowing the chances of you having a breakdown if you’re forced around people are high right now. 

You give yourself ample time to get ready, showering and moisturizing, making sure you smell clean and look nice. You do your hair, taking your time to make yourself look decent. You opt for minimal make up, wanting to make yourself seem like you at least put a little effort into your looks. 

You're strapping on your shoes when the knock comes at the door. Six o'clock sharp, just as you expected. You take a deep breath, adjusting your dress before you open the door.

John is standing on the other side, dressed in a button up shirt and slacks. You look him over, the fresh scent of cologne reaching your nose. His eyes rake your form, his scent slipping through the cologne as his gaze darkens a bit. Gaz was right. He does look like he wants to devour you. 

“You clean up nicely.” You say, looking him over again. His shirt hugs his muscles nicely, his pants obviously tailored to fit him. You haven't seen him in anything but fatigues and civilian clothes so far. 

“Was going to say the same to you.” He says, lips pulling up into a smile. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Hungry?” He asks, offering you an arm. 

“Always.” You say, taking his arm, letting him lead you towards the rec room. 

The lights inside are dimmed, the table usually reserved for games set up with a tablecloth and candles, along with two plates covered with cloches, and a bottle of wine. You're not sure when he managed to procure the wine, or maybe he had it saved and decided this was as good a time as any. 

“Wow.” You say, impressed by the effort he obviously put into everything. 

“I bribed the boys out of here for a few hours.” He says, leading you to the table. “Wasn't easy.”

“I bet.” You say, sitting down in one of the chairs, letting him push it in for you. 

He pours you both glasses of wine before taking the cloches off the plates. You blink in surprise at the meal on the plate. Spaghetti, a salad, and bread. It's so simple, yet it takes you right back to weeknight dinners at home. 

“You made this?” You ask as he takes the seat across from you. 

He nods. “I've amassed many skills over the years. I'm no five star chef, but I can throw things together in a pinch.”

“Well it looks good.” You say, picking up your fork. 

It tastes good too. It's so simple, yet it's one of the best things you've eaten in the last month. You miss a lot of things about America, and the food is starting to be one of those. 

You and John make small talk as you eat, the wine warming your body and easing your nerves. 

“How long has it been,” You ask him as you clear your plate. “Since you were with an omega last?”

“Two years.” He says, taking a sip of wine. 

Your eyes widen in surprise. You know they've been with omegas in the past, taking advantage of barrack bunnies and the swaths of willing omegas you know populate near military bases. You just hadn't thought it would be that far back in the past.

“Right around the time the task force was created.” He continues. “We were too busy bonding and working on the task force, by the time we had a moment long enough for anything like that, we didn't need them anymore.”

“That must have been torture.” You say, staring at him wide eyed. 

“We're trained for that sort of thing.” He says with a smile. “How to fight off those urges, those needs. When you're in the field, something like that could get you killed. You don't pass selection into the SAS until you can show mastery over those skills.”

“Damn.” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “Still, it couldn't have been easy.”

“It can be hard, once you've been with an omega, to go without. But that's just part of the job.” 

“Well, I suppose that's partly why I'm here.” You say, huffing out a laugh. 

“Perhaps.” He says. “I'm certain we're not getting the full story.”

The double meaning isn't lost on you. There's a lot they don't know about you, things that are safer buried deep where they can't hurt anyone. Things you'd like to keep buried for the rest of time. 

“It’s nothing...bad is it?” You ask, searching his gaze. 

“I’d like to think not,” He says. 

But... 

You don’t need to hear him say it. You know it’s there, lingering at the end of that statement. You wonder how many times he’s been in these situations, forced to place blind trust in someone and hope they have the best intentions in mind. You’re all too familiar with those sorts of situations. Putting blind trust in strangers was your life purpose as soon as you presented as an omega. 

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” He says, staring at you with such conviction you can’t help but believe him. “You’re part of our pack, which makes you part of this team, even if bureaucracy says otherwise. We take care of each other, and that includes you. You’re our omega, regardless of whatever the endgame is for this initiative.” 

You feel almost breathless at his words, at his declaration of loyalty to you. You know how much loyalty means to someone like him, the kind of promise words like that uphold. They’d give their lives to defend you. You’d fight to defend them too, if it came down to it. Not that you could do much, but you’d try. 

“You’re my omega.” John says, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “I take care of what's mine.”

You nod, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. “I know. You've...you've been a better alpha than I could have ever hoped for. Despite everything you've been kind and caring and understanding. I know some things we learned at the institute weren’t right, but...I was expecting a lot worse.”

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I'm glad I could prove that wrong. I know this situation is weird and less than ideal, but I fear I'll have to tell Kate she was right. She did pick a good omega.”

You smile, preening a bit under his praise. “That’s all I can try to be.” 

“You can be so much more than that.” He says, lifting your hand to his lips. His beard tickles your skin as he presses a line of kisses across the back of your hand before turning it, kissing across your palm to your wrist. He presses his nose against the skin there, inhaling deeply. “You’re sure, about tonight?” 

Your fingers brush his cheek as he holds your hand against his face. Your heart is thudding your throat at the proximity, those nervous flutters starting in your stomach again. He’s giving you an out, a chance to take back what you had asked for. You know he wouldn’t blame you. He was more than willing to wait for your heat to start, for when you had no choice, when it would mean less because you would be desperate and needy for him. 

You don’t want that, though. You want him to want you before his instincts tell him he does. You want to know he’s not just fulfilling a duty, scratching an itch that’s been tickling him for two years now. You want him to want you as you are now. You want him to choose you. 

“Yes.” You say, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. “Just...be gentle with me?” 

“Of course.” He says, kissing your palm again. “You change your mind at any time, you tell me, yeah?” 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” He takes your hand in his again, standing from his seat. 

Nerves mix with excitement as he pulls you to your feet with him, stepping up close to you. His hand lifts, tilting your chin up. Your stomach flutters as you meet his gaze, his eyes warm and soft as he stares at you. Affection shines in them as his thumb brushes your lip before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is short and sweet, like the ones you’ve shared with him before. Yet, at the same time it feels different. There’s warmth beginning to blossom under your skin, the kiss not just a simple sign of affection this time. It’s the overture, the appetizer, just a teasing taste of what’s to come. 

You hold his hand as he leads you down the hallway, heels clacking on the tile floor. It makes your face warm, the thought that they all know what it means, they can hear it and they know what’s about to happen. They know where you’re going, what you’re about to do. 

John opens his door, motioning for you to enter. You haven’t been in any of their rooms yet, you haven’t invaded their own sacred spaces. Your steps are slow and cautious as you breach that barrier, John’s scent washing over you as you step into his room. 

It’s neat and tidy, just as you expected it would be. It’s not laid out all that differently from your own, though perhaps a bit more organized and clinical than yours. There’s a shelf next to his nightstand, stuffed with books and what you can assume are souvenirs from places he’s been. There’s stacks of papers on the desk, his clothes and shoes tucked away neatly in their places. His bed is slightly bigger than yours, and you wonder if that’s a perk of his status, or if he pulled some strings once he learned he was getting an omega. 

The door clicking shut draws your attention back to John, the click of the handle a finality. You’re doing this. There’s no going back now. 

Not that you want to. 

John steps up to you, staring down at you. You stare up into his eyes as his hand comes to rest on your waist, his touch hot through the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks, voice rumbling in his chest. 

You nod, your hands slowly sliding up his arms, feeling the muscle hidden beneath his dress shirt. “Yes.” 

His lips meet yours, beard tickling your skin as he kisses you. You let him lead, leaning into him as he pulls you closer against his chest. He’s so warm, so firm under your hands as you grip his shoulders. His hand slides from your hip to your back, a gasp parting your lips as his calloused fingers touch the bare skin of your back. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. He tilts his head, taking advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes like wine, a quiet sound leaving your throat as he pulls you tighter against him, pressing your body into his. You can feel all of him, the hard ridges, the strength in his body as he cages you in his arms. Your head is spinning, intoxicated purely by the smell and taste of him. 

Something rumbles deep in his chest, your entire body shivering in response. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your hips pressed flush against his. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. You’ve been able to smell the musky tinge of arousal in his scent all evening, and you wonder how long he’s been hard. Has it been since he saw you? Or has he been thinking about this all day? 

The thought thrills you, makes your omega preen in the back of your mind. You did this. Your alpha is all worked up because of you. 

A whimper leaves your lips as his hand slips lower, smoothing over the curve of your ass. He mumbles a curse against your lips before they blaze a path down the line of your jaw to your neck. You tilt your head, bearing your throat for him. A low rumble of approval vibrates through his chest, his hand squeezing your ass. The sound has your omega practically belly up, the dampness between your thighs intensifying as your scent gets heavier in the air. 

John groans against your throat, teeth nipping at your neck just over your scent gland. “Such a good girl for me.” He groans, his hand on your ass guiding your hips to grind against his. “Such a good omega.” 

You whine at the praise, hands blindly sliding down his chest to pull at the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers are trembling slightly from excitement, fumbling as you attempt to get his shirt off. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the warmth of him pressed against you. 

“Easy pup.” His voice rumbles against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin before he pulls back, hands taking over to strip him of his button up and undershirt. 

You lick your lips as his skin is revealed to you, your hand automatically lifting to touch him. You hesitate for a half a second but he makes no move to stop you. Your eyes trail over his form, over the many, many scars that decorate his skin like some kind of macabre painting. Lines and jagged slices, the telltale star shaped marks of bullet wounds. Cuts and nicks from knives or bullets, you can’t tell the difference. 

Your fingers settle on a rather large scar on his side, starting at the base of his ribs and curling around his side. It’s an old scar, but the skin is still rough and uneven. Whatever had caused it, it took a chunk out of him. You don’t want to think about it, about how every scar could have been a close call. How many times he’s been on the brink of death. 

“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your fingertips, his beard tickling your skin. “Tonight is about you.” 

He pulls you close again, leaning down to press his lips to yours. His hands are warm against your back as he wraps himself around you again, trapping your hands against his bare chest. Your nails dig into his skin as his hands sink lower, grabbing handfuls of your ass. He groans, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. He presses you backwards, and you trust him to guide you until your legs hit the side of his bed. 

“Gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?” He growls, his voice rough around the edges as his alpha slips through. 

“Yes, alpha!” You gasp against his lips, your head tilting back in submission. 

“Always such a good omega for me.” He praises you, teeth nipping at your throat. “Good omegas kneel for their alphas.” He says, pushing you backwards so you plop down on his bed. “But a good alpha,” He slowly lowers himself before you, dropping to one knee, then the other as his hands wrap around your ankles. “Kneels for his omega.”

Your face warms as you stare down at him, unable to do anything but watch as his hands make quick work of your shoes, setting them neatly beside the bed. His skin is rough against yours as his hands drag up your legs, slowly parting them. He moves himself closer, kneeling between your parted thighs. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he reaches up, pushing on your stomach until you're laying flat on his bed. He can see up your skirt now, and you're silently glad for the lacy panties Johnny had insisted on. 

“Do you trust me?” His lips brush your inner thigh as his hands pause just at the hem of your skirt where it's ridden up almost to your hips. 

“Yes, alpha.” You say, lifting your head to stare down at him. 

He meets your gaze as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his hands continuing to press upwards until your dress is hiked around your waist. Your heart is fluttering rapidly in your chest as you stare down at him, his gaze leaving your eyes to stare at the soaked lace barely covering your most private parts. 

His hands leave your hips to curl around the lace, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric snaps easily, the shreds falling to the floor. Your lip part as you stare at him in shock.  

“I'll buy you a new pair.” He says, his hands gripping your thighs to pull them further apart. 

The cool air in the room hits your slicked folds, making you shudder. He's barely touched you and already you can feel how slick you are. His lips press against your inner thigh again, blazing a path upwards. His gaze meets yours again as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds. 

You gasp at the foreign sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp. 

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You let your arms give out, laying flat on the bed again. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself. Not since before you left the institute four months ago. 

You don’t last very long. 

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to John’s face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm. 

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His beard is shiny with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again. He lets out a chuckle, the scent of your arousal washing over him. 

“Fuckin sweet as sugar, love.” He says as he pushes himself up from between your legs, his body folding over yours on the bed. 

His face presses into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your pussy flutters at the thought of him claiming you now, sinking his teeth into your skin to mark you as his forever. He could. It would be so easy for him to do it. His tongue laves over the skin covering your scent gland, a shiver running through you. Your arms wrap around him, holding him against you as your scents mingle, musky with arousal. 

“Alpha...” You whine, your hips pressing up against the bulge in his pants. He’s fully hard now, the fabric of his pants providing delicious friction against your folds. 

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your throat before he pushes himself up over you. “Soon, love.” He says, moving until he’s standing in front of you. “Think you’re a bit overdressed still.” 

Your eyes dart down to his pants. “So are you.” 

He smirks, his hands dropping to your waist, slowly pushing your dress up higher. You let him slip it over your head, lifting your arms to help him. You’re bare before him, warmth spreading through your veins as he stares down at you. Your hands lift, coming to rest on his thighs. You can feel the muscle through the fabric, the strength of him beneath your hands. How easily he could take control, pin you down and take what he wants with little regard for you or your pleasure. How easily he could hurt you, snap your bones like they’re toothpicks, bruise and batter your body without even straining a muscle. 

Yet he stands here, patiently watching as your hands move closer and closer to the prominent bulge in his fitted pants. He doesn’t even twitch as your hand cups his hard length, your breath stuttering at the sheer size of him. He’s big like most alphas are, or so you’ve heard. 

His eyes stare into you as you undo his belt, popping the button on his pants open. He finally moves as you pull down the zipper, helping you tug his pants and briefs down. His cock stands at attention, almost as stiff as he is. You stare at his veiny cock with wide eyes, the tip flushed almost red with how hard he is. 

“Christ.” You breathe, staring at him in awe. 

You did that. 

“Easy, love.” He says, leaning down to wrap an arm around your waist. “I said tonight was about you.” 

He moves you so you’re laid out on the bed, your head hitting his pillow. The scent of him floods your nose as he joins you on the bed, the frame creaking as he kneels between your legs. Nerves twist in your stomach as you continue to stare at his cock bobbing between his thighs as he runs his hands along your legs. It’s going to hurt, you know that. It suddenly seems daunting, this request. At least during your heat you’d be so out of it with need you wouldn’t really feel anything. And you’d have plenty of slick to help. 

“None of that.” He says, squeezing your thighs gently. “I told you I’d take care of you.” 

You nod, swallowing thickly. 

“We’ve got more work to do before we reach that point. I’m not just going to stuff my cock into you like some needy pup.” He stares at you. “You tell me and I’ll stop, alright?” 

You nod again. “Yes, alpha.” 

Your breath hitches as his hands reach the junction of your thighs, one moving to your stomach, the other dragging through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingers. They’re so much thicker than your own, your pussy clenching as he presses against the entrance. 

“Relax for me, love.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your stomach with his thumb. 

His finger presses into you and your lips part at the intrusion. You clamp tight around his finger, making him groan. 

“Easy.” He says, his thumb moving to circle your clit. 

A breathy whine leaves your lips as his finger presses deeper into you, reaching further than you ever could. Your hand reaches up to thread through his hair, letting the short cropped strands slide through your fingers. It’s softer than you imagined, though you expect he too had spent the afternoon preparing for tonight as well. The mental image of him lathering himself in moisturizer would have made you laugh if his finger hadn’t brushed against a spot inside you that has your hips lifting off the bed. 

He leans down, lips blazing a path up your stomach, between your breasts to your throat. He swallows your moans as he works you open with his fingers, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into your wet pussy only adding to the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel it building within you, heat burning through your veins. Price groans against your lips as your nails scratch his scalp, his cock leaking against your thigh. You want him, need him inside of you. You need to feel him, you need to be close to him. 

“Alpha, please.” You whimper, tugging at his hair. 

He stares down at you, eyes blown with lust. “Please, what?” 

“Need you.” You whimper, grinding against his hand. “Please, sir.” 

Price closes his eyes, letting out a groan. His cock twitches against your thigh, his fingers slipping from you. He breathes out a curse, shifting to open his nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube, sitting back on his knees to squirt some into his hand. You’re plenty slick, but you watch as he rubs the lube on his cock, tossing the bottle back into the open drawer. 

He kneels between your thighs again, staring down at you as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. You feel intoxicated, your head spinning from the intensity of his scent around you and the knowledge of what’s about to happen. 

Price folds his body over yours again, the head of his cock brushing your folds. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, parting your thighs further for him as his tip catches on your opening. Your hands grip his shoulders as he presses into you, the stretch stinging a bit as he works you open. This is it. There’s no going back now. 

You don’t want to. 

You whimper quietly as he pushes into you, nails biting into his skin. It’s too much, yet you can’t get enough of it as he sinks further in. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls away from your lips staring down at your face. 

“Alright?” He asks, stilling where he is. 

You nod. “Just need a moment. You’re really big.” 

His lips twitch up into a smile, a pleased growl rumbling through his chest. “Don’t start talking like that, love.” He says, leaning down to press kisses to your face. 

“Or what?” You ask, your nails digging harder into his skin. 

“I might not be able to control myself.” He growls, his alpha slipping out around the edges of his voice. 

Your pussy clenches at his words, walls clamping down around him. He lets out another growl, hiking your leg up over his hip. It forces him deeper into you, your breath catching at the feeling of him spreading you open. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, rocking your hips to take him even deeper into you. 

John’s arms frame your head as he presses his body against yours. Your arms slip around his back, legs locking around his waist as he begins to move slowly, working himself deeper and deeper into you until he’s pressed flush against you. He stills for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as you both breathe. You’re trembling just slightly, overwhelmed with being so close to him, to your alpha. The pain and discomfort is gone, replaced by burning heat as desire pulses through your veins. 

“Please, alpha.” You whimper. 

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you, omega.” 

Your skin is slick with sweat already as he begins to rock his hips into you. Your hands press into his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex as he moves. It feels good, the friction of your bodies, the way he stretches you open with every thrust. Your head is spinning with pleasure at the thought of being so close to another person, being so connected with someone else. 

Not just someone else, with your alpha. 

The wet squelch of your pussy as he thrusts into you is loud, the mattress creaking as he picks up speed. You’re trembling, your thighs squeezing around his hips as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You’re not sure how he’s lasted this long, especially without any sort of release for himself yet tonight. 

Perhaps it was the training he spoke about earlier.

You’re not sure how he manages it. You couldn’t have that kind of control. Not after this. Not after knowing how good it can feel, how good he can make you feel. 

“Fucking feel so good.” He grunts, his breath fanning her ear. His own skin is slicked with sweat, muscles twitching under her hands. “So fucking tight and warm.” 

“John!” You gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades as he picks up the pace even more, his hips snapping against yours. 

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good omega? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, staring down at you. 

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the night. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes. 

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!” 

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck. 

The smell of sex, arousal, sweat, and your own combined scents are heavy in the air. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around John as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still. 

“Alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat. 

You nod, slowly unwinding yourself from around him. “Yeah. ‘M good.” 

“Fucking Christ, a man could get addicted to that.” He says, lifting his face from your neck. “Sweet little omega.” 

Your face warms more than it already feels, and you lean into his touch as his fingers brush your cheek. 

“Let me go get something to clean this mess up with.” He says, pushing himself up so he’s kneeling. 

You can’t help but giggle as his joints pop and he lets out a groan at the effort. “Need a break, old man.” 

His eyes flash playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Going with the old man insults again, huh?” 

You give him a look. “You’re the one grunting while getting up.” 

You let out a surprised yelp as he brings his hand down on your thigh, the skin tingling as he gets up. “I’ll show you old man.” He murmurs as he heads for his en suite. 

You bite your lip as you begin to feel his release slipping out of you, the feeling causing desire to stir in your stomach once more. 

John tsks as he comes back, wiping the mess between your thighs. “Needy little thing.” He practically purrs, stepping away to toss the rag into the bathroom sink before he returns, climbing back onto the bed.

You press as close to him as you can, nuzzling into his neck. Your limbs are still twitching a bit, your mind buzzing from the aftermath of what had just transpired. John wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You press a gentle kiss to his neck, earning a rumble in response. Your own rumble starts up as you purr contently, tossing a leg over his hip to allow you to get as close to him as possible. 

He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Comfortable?” 

You purr louder in response, sleep beginning to fog the corners of your mind. 

“Good girl.” He says, pressing another kiss to your head. “Sleep. Alpha’s got you.”

NEXT ->

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[ink-n-shadow]

*keysmash* ABO pack!141 is chef's kiss amazing! I especially love how you made Johnny the Omega. Maybe reader is the good girl Omega to counteract Johnny's brattiness? (I would love you forever if you wrote that pretty pretty please)

don't mind me, just leaving another slightly self-indulgent a/b/o smut

BAD DOG

𝜗𝜚 the one where omega!johnny's been bad

𝜗𝜚 pairing: pack!141 x reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), brat!johnny, punishments, fingering (reader!receiving), oral (reader!receiving), johnny referred to as a dog, leash/collar use, you're being rewarded

johnny (just like reader) has his good days and bad days. some days he’s the sweetest and most patient boy, like sometimes simon doesn’t even have to breathe a word for johnny to do what he’s told—simon just gives him a slight quirk of the brow, and johnny’s scrambling to be at his side. these are the days johnny’s rewarded handsomely, bundled up against simon’s side or nuzzled in price’s lap and practically melting at the feeling of blunt nails scratching at his scalp and the gruff sounds of praise dripping from one of his alphas lips. sometimes when he’s been this good, he gets to either fill you up without consequence or play with you to his heart’s content.

but these good days (at least for johnny) are usually few and far between because lets face it: johnny’s a masochistic brat, especially when he’s in heat. he acts like a feral mutt whenever the muzzle comes out, but the second it’s as secured around his mouth as the cage around his cock is, he’s sitting pretty and trying not to drool at the way his sensitive tip presses against the metal with each throb of his cock. he secretly loves how quickly his brain shuts off, eyes growing heavy and tongue lapping at his chapped lips with every heavy pant of breath.

the only punishment johnny doesn’t like is when he’s slotted between simon’s thigh, tethered to the alpha’s large hand with a chain leash and collar and forced to face forward towards one of the beds in your shared bedrooms. price has you splayed out with your back against his chest, your thighs wrenched apart by his own and his hand stuffing three fingers inside of your slick hole. there’s a creamy froth surrounding where your arousal ended and price’s fingers began, the only evidence of johnny’s misdeed. with each twist and roll of price’s fingers deeper and deeper inside of you, a silky mixture of your slick and johnny’s cum drips from between your thighs, and if it wasn’t for kyle’s tongue lapping earnestly at both your slick skin and price’s drenched fingers, the sheets beneath you would be more ruined than they currently are.

johnny hates having to sit there and watch, held in place by the leash and simon’s heated gaze on the back of his neck. he can’t help himself sometimes and tries to inch himself closer to the footboard, only for simon to pull harder on the leash and send him fumbling backwards into the alpha’s lap.

“the fuck you think you’re doin’, mutt? been a bad dog today, ‘member? bad dogs don’t get treats, so sit,” and the gravel to simon’s words have johnny sitting up straighter, keeping his sniveling to a minimum as he watches you fall apart around price’s fingers and against kyle’s tongue.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[novemberheart]

{overview} You get answers for Simon’s behavior

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of fighting, cursing, mentions of heat cycles and marking

Chapter 31 <- Chapter 32 -> Chapter 33

“He has the flu,” the doctor spoke. John growled, not in the mood for games. “Alpha flu,” The doctor clarified.

“Bloody stupid name,” Kyle mumbled.

“What does that mean?” You urged.

“Has he been away for a while?” The doctor questioned. Her glasses had become foggy. She was nervous. John growled again. They had already answered that.

“Yes,” you answered. You wrapped your arm around John’s bicep giving him a small squeeze. His shoulders fell slightly.

“Have you been marked yet?” she asked, turning her full attention to you. You quickly shook your head.

“That would be why. His alpha already considers you his omega and being away from you without marking you”- she cut herself off with a sigh. “It would be like if you left your car with the keys in it in a bad neighborhood- for lack of a better analogy,” She explained. You weren't sure you loved the comparison.

“So his alpha is losing it because she's his omega but doesn't have the claim to prove it?” John clarified. The doctor nodded her head.

“Being away could've caused paranoia, especially if his alpha felt she wasn't well protected- or it could just be because deeper bonds have formed,” She continued.

Could be both.

You were by yourself with Kyle, who wouldn't be in the best position to protect you. Plus the two of you have grown closer.

“How come I haven't experienced this?” John voiced what you were thinking.

“It depends on a lot of different factors,” she started. “Could be biological, genetic, outside factors, so many things,”

John nodded his head.

“What do we do now?” Kyle questioned.

“Well, the best thing would be claiming. When's your next heat?”

“About three to four weeks,” John spoke for you. You were happy he was keeping track.

“Well then our next option would be sedation”-

“No,” John interjected. “She’s not being marked while sedated. Simon wouldn't want it to be that way and neither do I,”

“I’m fine with it,” you assured. You lied. No one wanted to be marked while sedated- besides betas. It was traumatizing, even though it wouldn't be painful. When you woke up you had to work through every emotion sober- unclouded by your heat. It scared you.

“No,” John pressed again. You breathed a sigh of relief. John’s hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You whined, burying yourself into his side. “Is there a way we can spur on her heat?” John suggested.

“I suggest talking to an omega specialist,” she offered. John sucked in through his teeth nodding his head.

“Thank you, doctor,” He extended his arms towards the door. He showed her out. “Come here, pretty girl,” John soothed. You clawed at your eyes, quickly finding comfort against his chest. “I'm sorry that happened,” he whispered, his own throat growing tight at the lingering scent of your fear.

“We can talk to an omega specialist,” you mumbled, once your tears had finally died down.

“You sure, lovie?” Kyle spoke up.

“Could just lock the bastard in Johnny’s room till he snaps out of it,” John jested. You chuckled dryly, still refusing to remove your face from his chest. The two men sighed, sharing a glance with each other.

This wasn't how they wanted this to go down.

“If there is something we could do, would you be open to being marked?” John hummed, pressing you even further against him.

You were ready.

You had been during your heat.

You had waited longer than most omegas to be marked, not that that's saying much. It was more of a privilege than anything. Your pack was letting you consent to it on your own.

“Yes,” you agreed aloud. “I’d want you to mark me too though,” you added. John quirked his brow, an almost amused look on his face.

“That’s a lot, sweetheart,” he reminded. “Besides I’m not sure Simon’ll let me that close to his omega,” John purred. You grumbled, shooting him an angry look.

“I don't want to just belong to one of you. I want to belong to all of you,” you pressed. A flame sparked in the bellies of both men, their hearts skipping a beat.

“You already do,” John hushed, brushing your hair away from your forehead. “All ours. Which is why we have to take care of you. I'll schedule an appointment with an omega specialist today and you go write down all the questions you have, yes?”

“Yes, alpha,” You agreed.

Simon groaned causing Johnny to sit up in his seat.

“Morning, L.T.” Johnny yawned. Simon groaned again, a familiar ache and neediness in his body, along with a deep ache in his already bruised jaw. “How ya feelin’?” Johnny pressed.

“What happened?” he groaned. He could hardly open his eyes.

“Cap knocked you out. Right hook,” Johnny responded. That would explain it. The captain had a deadly hook. He was lucky his head was still attached to his neck.

Simon suddenly snapped awake, causing Johnny to throw himself forward.

“Pup?” Simon questioned, his eyes bearing into Johnny’s for assurance. He could still smell you against the sheets. His stomach twisted with a painful groan.

“She’s alright,” Johnny responded quickly. He didn't believe him. Johnny could tell. His eyes still searching for any signs that he had fucked up beyond repair. While it wasn't a good situation to be in, it wasn't Simon's fault.

Johnny knew why this happened to Simon. Simon’s walls were still up. Granted, you had shortened them quite a few feet, yet he was still holding himself back. Johnny could see it. He could see the way Simon stopped himself from letting his alpha take care of you. The way he’d whisper to Johnny to get you seconds once you cleared your plate instead of getting it for you himself. The way he always put your raincoat in plain view so you wouldn't forget it- instead of just reminding you.

It was only natural that his alpha wanted credit for these acts. He wanted to be seen as a worthy mate.

“She was a bit shaken, but she won’t hold it against ya,” Johnny assured. Simon's back flattened against the mattress, not in ease but in defeat. “Wanna hear what the doctor said about you?” Johnny's tone was too teasing for Simon's mood. “She said your alphas pitchin’ a fit because you were away from our girl,” Johnny smirked. “You wanna mark her,” Johnny whispered. The gravel in his voice usually sent a tingle up Simon’s spine, this time it made Simon kick him off the bed. “Bastard,” Johnny grumbled. The thud alerted John.

“Find my tooth while you're down there,” Simon requested of Johnny, shooting a glare at John.

“Don’t hold that against me, honey,” John soothed. Simon flushed at the name, rolling over onto his stomach. “I’d want you to do the same to me if I was in your position,” John added. Simon felt a wave of sickness wash over him again.

“How is she?”

“I just told you ho”- John held up his hand to cut-off the Scot.

“Go cuddle with you omega,” John directed, nodding his head towards the door. Johnny huffed at the cut-off, but would rather be doing that anyway. “She was scared,” John said once the door had shut. “Had all of us scared,” John continued. Simon whined low in his throat. He was with his alpha- his captain, he didn't need to be strong anymore. “None of that,” John soothed. His hand grabbed Simon by the scruff so his head was in his lap. “Wasn't your fault. She’s sitting at the kitchen counter writing questions to ask the omega specialist. She wants you to mark her,” John explained. A pleased rumble echoed in Simon’s chest at the idea- but stopped due to another.

“She’s not being sedated,” Simon snarled.

“Course not,” John assured. “Kyle’s been talking to one over the computer, apparently there is a pill that can spur on a heat. We’re looking into that,” John explained.

“I can wait till her heat,” Simon assured. “I can pick up a mission till her heat”-

“That's not feasible Simon,” John sighed. “First of all, we can't send you out there in this condition. Second, who knows when our girl will even get her heat. Third, your being away will only make the symptoms worse.”

“She gonna hate me after this?” Simon asked, mostly to himself.

“Do you want to mark her?” John asked suddenly.

Yes.

He's been biting back the urge to sink his teeth into you since Inverness.

Simon settled for a grunt.

“Then she won’t hate you, Simon,”

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Johnny thanked, peeling off your raincoat for you. The doctor smiled at the interaction.

“Of course. The situation, as it has been described to me, isn't one that should be taken lightly or pushed back,” she responded. “How are you doing?” She asked softly, turning towards you. She had eyes that looked exactly like Kyles. It instantly calmed you.

“I’m alright. Nervous. Thank you for asking,” you tried to smile.

“Your alpha- John, sent me over your medical history and I think the best option will be Camilcotazine. Are you familiar with that drug in any way?” She asked.

You were. One of the doctors at the omega holding house wanted to put you on that to regulate your heats. You declined because of the side effects. Instant two-week heat.

You nodded your head, explaining why you chose not to go on it at the time.

“Well, that's exactly why I want to prescribe it to you,” was her response.

“How long will she have to take it?” Johnny asked. You suddenly realized you left your paper with questions at home.

“For about three months,” she said, making both of you wince. “We can't tell if the medication is a good fit for you during the first month, because it will throw you into a heat regardless. The second month is to see if your heat begins to regulate itself and the third month is to see if it matches the second month,” she explained. It made sense, unfortunately.

“That’s fine,” you spoke up. “What if my heat lasts longer than it is supposed to?”

“The good thing about Camilcotazine is that it's a very commonly used medication. It has gone through thousands of tests and has been used for omegas for over fifty years. 1/7 omegas are on or have been on it. I am very confident in its ability,” she explained.

You looked over at Johnny.

“When do I start?” you breathed.

Hi friends!!! The next few chapters are going to be veryyy spicy! Hopefully that is something you enjoy…… see you in three days! 🧡