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#alpha/beta/omega fanfic
omegaverse-seeker · 1 year
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I need fic recommendations pleaseeee. Mpreg and plot are preferrable pleasssseee
Dawg, I'm trying to find them too??
If anyone has any good ones, please share them.
I am looking for a/b/o and/or mpreg, with OCs. Actually decently written with no left-field development. I don't want like a Beta suddenly becoming an Omega, an abusive Alpha, or a pliant passive Omega. I want me some GOOD and ORIGINAL stories.
EDIT: Do not send or share a story where the person getting pregnant is the first of their gender/kind to get pregnant. I absolutely cannot stand that weird anomalous shit. I swear to Christ if you do, I'mma curse you and your family.
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soaps-mohawk · 7 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 11: It's Coming
Summary: Things have begun to shift in your developing relationship with your pack. Unfortunately, nature has the worst timing in the world. 
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Suggestive content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, medical stuff, plenty of fluff.
A/N: I wrote like 90% of this chapter on my phone so please forgive any weird typos. I'm super excited for this one and this whole part really. Lots of good stuff coming up!!
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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At first you’re not quite sure what pulled you from sleep. You’re warm and more comfortable than you have been in a long time, despite the dull throbbing between your thighs. The pillow against your back shifts, a chill settling in as some of the warmth disappears. 
You blink your eyes open, squinting against the harsh blue light of a phone screen. Price lets out a quiet groan, swiping at something before settling his phone back on the nightstand in front of you. His arms wrap back around your middle, his face pressing into the back of your neck as he settles against you again. 
It was his phone vibrating that had woken you, pulling you from the gentle arms of sleep. It’s still dark out, far too early to be up and getting phone calls, especially on a Sunday morning. You wonder how often John actually gets to sleep, between his job and everything he does when he’s not away. You’re understanding the couch in his office more and more now. 
“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, a quiet rumbling vibrating against your back as he purrs.
You don’t need to be told twice, snuggling down under the covers again, letting your eyes close. 
You wake a while later alone. It’s daylight finally, the sunlight coming through the window lighting the room. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling Price’s scent. It still smells a bit like arousal and sex in the room, both of your scents heavy in the air. They blend together surprisingly well, Price’s musky woody scent mixing with the sweetness of your own scent. It makes an intoxicating aroma of alpha and omega. 
Price comes out of the bathroom, slipping back under the covers. You curl up against his side, laying your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you. 
“Morning.” He murmurs, voice heavy with sleep still. 
You hum in response, resting your head over his heart. 
���How do you feel?” He asks, his fingers trailing your bare back. 
“A bit sore.” You say, acknowledging the throbbing between your legs. “Not as bad as I thought I might.” 
Price huffs out a laugh. “It shouldn’t hurt, not if you know what you’re doing.” 
You hum again, the knowledge that he’s very experienced coming to the forefront of your mind. Even if it has been two years, you can imagine him when he was younger, the kind of experiences he must have had. Omegas and barrack bunnies and all sorts of women probably fawned over him. 
“You’re thinking too much.” He says quietly, eyes closed as he lays there with you. 
You’re starting to think he might be able to read your mind. 
“Can I ask you something? Something...personal?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. 
He cracks an eye open to stare down at you. “Don’t think you can get much more personal than we already are.” His lips twitch up in a smile. “‘Course, you can ask me anything.” 
“When was the last time you helped an omega through a heat?” You ask, listening to the steady thump of his heart under your ear. 
“Years ago. Well over a decade ago.” He says, voice still thick and raspy with sleep. He clears his throat, a hand settling on your waist. “Back when I was still a Sergeant. I had the idea back then of settling down, finding an omega and having my own pack. Had a few on and off relationships. Then I started getting sent off on more and more dangerous missions. I realized my skill set and my purpose, and gave up the idea of having an omega. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting them through that, if something happened to me. I’ve seen what losing an alpha does to an omega firsthand too many times.” 
A frown tugs at your brows as you lay there against his chest. You know the risk of them dying is high. The CIA had spent ample time warning you of that risk, telling you about how dangerous their lives are and how every assignment, every deployment, could be their last. They could be gone for weeks at a time, months at a time, and they could go and not come back. They know that every time they leave for an assignment it could be their last, and now you’ll be stuck behind knowing they might not be coming back. 
You’ve heard about omegas that have lost their alphas, how damaging it can be. It’s not something you’re taught at the institute. That’s not something you’re supposed to think about, something you shouldn’t have to think about. 
“What’s eating you?” Price asks softly, his finger stroking the pinched skin between your brows. 
You shift against his side, leaning more on his chest as you look up at him. “What if you don’t come back?” 
His smile is a bit grim as he stares up at you, his fingers trailing across your face. “I won’t lie and say that’s not a risk. There’s always a chance.” His fingers trail down your arm to rest on your hand where it’s pressed flat against his chest. “We’re here for a reason. We are the best at what we do.” 
He pauses as your hand moves, your gaze lowering from his as you trace one of the scars on his clavicle. You can only imagine what caused it. A knife? Shrapnel? Where was he and what was he doing when he got it? You might never be able to know all the details. So many secrets, so much you can’t know. 
John wraps his arms around you, easing you off his chest as he rolls you onto your back. You stare up at him as he hovers over you, his hand brushing stray hairs from your face. “Don’t worry too much.” He says, his finger trailing the line of your nose. “We always try our best to make it home. Now we just have an even greater reason to.” 
Your hand cups his cheek as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You hum against his mouth, pressing your body closer against his. You can’t help but smile against his lips as his cock hardens against your thigh. 
“Again?” You murmur against his lips, making him chuckle.
“Can’t blame me when there’s a beautiful omega naked in my bed.” 
Your face burns as he leans back down to kiss you, his hips moving against your thigh. Warmth spreads through your whole body from his scent thickening in the air, his arousal prevalent as he twitches against your leg. 
“John.” You moan softly, hands grasping at his back. 
You both pause as a door shuts in the hallway, the reminder that the others are just a thin wall away coming back to you. The moment is over as your stomach growls, also reminding you that you’ll need to eat eventually. 
John chuckles quietly, leaning up to press a kiss against your forehead. “Come on, let’s get the day started and get some food into you.” 
You frown a bit as he pulls away, cock still hard and angry looking as he stands from the bed. “John?” You call out, scrambling off the bed after him. “You’re just gonna...” 
“Give it a minute and I’ll be fine.” He says, moving to his closet. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 
Your frown only deepens and you step closer to him, catching him as he turns around. You stare up at him through your lashes, wrapping your hand around his cock. He pauses, letting out a little groan as you squeeze him gently. 
“Let me help you.” You say, dragging your hand along his length. 
His eyes darken as he stares down at you, the pants in his hand dropping to the floor. 
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Your face is still a bit flushed as you make your way to the mess. You’re hand in hand with John, dressed comfortably in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings. You can’t help but feel a bit bashful, as if they’re all going to know what you did, as if every soldier in the mess knows you and Price slept together last night. 
They’ve probably been thinking that since you arrived. 
Price leads you through the line, making your tray for you. You nearly beam with pride at him taking care of you, your omega preening with happiness as he carries your tray and his to the table. You take the spot next to Gaz as usual, still practically beaming. 
“Have a good night, love?” Gaz asks, smirking a bit at your pleased state. 
“Yeah.” You say, your face getting warm again at their stares. 
“Practically glowing, kitten.” Johnny says, winking at you from across the table. 
Your face flushes hotter and you quickly bury yourself in your porridge to avoid exploding at the breakfast table. 
“Sounded like ye had a great time.” Johnny continues. 
Christ, they probably heard the whole thing. You halfway want to sink down beneath the table to hide from their knowing stares. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, not really. They’re your pack, and eventually you’ll be in the same position with them too. 
“Didnae know ye had it in ye, kitten.” Johnny continues. “We certainly enjoyed the show.”
You do start to sink down in your seat a bit, surprised steam isn’t rising off your skin from how warm you feel. Gaz’s hand on your leg stops you, his fingers squeezing your thigh gently. 
“Don’t pay too much attention to him, love.” Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “He’s just jealous he didn’t get to go first.” 
“Am not.” Johnny whines, practically pouting. 
You can’t help but smile a bit at his antics. You know from how much he bragged about getting to be your first kiss that he probably was rather put out that John got to be your first. It would have been that way regardless, but you know you asking John before your heat changed things a bit. It would have always been John, though. 
It would have always been your alpha first. 
Gaz’s hand doesn't move from your thigh, holding its place there as you all eat, Johnny still pouting a bit. You know they’ll want to pursue that sort of relationship with you after your heat, but now that John’s removed the barrier of the first time as well, you can only expect them to up the teasing tenfold. A shiver runs up your spine at the thought of Gaz sliding his hand slightly higher, fingers slipping between your legs. 
You’re certain there has to be steam coming off of you now. 
Your thighs squeeze together, trapping Gaz's fingers between them as you continue to try and act normally. Gaz turns his head just slightly, side eyeing you as you continue to try and eat your breakfast as normally as possible. Gaz's grip on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your skin. You fight the noise threatening to come up as he holds his hand there, continuing to eat his breakfast as if nothing is happening. 
You hold Gaz's hand as he walks you back towards the barracks, leaning against his side. His grip around your fingers is tight, not even the rain dampening the heaviness of his scent. It's deeper than usual, the musk of arousal tinging the edges. 
Your back meets your door as soon as you're back in the barracks, Gaz pinning you against the wood. Your own breathing is heavy as you stare up at him, his eyes dark as he meets your gaze. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He groans, leaning down to kiss you. It's far more passionate than you've ever kissed him before, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your waist. “Making all those sweet noises last night.” He breathes against your lips. “Haven't seen Price that relaxed in a long time.” 
Your face warms at his words, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He presses harder against you, pinning you against the door as his tongue prods at your lips. He tastes like the tea he drank with breakfast, herby and earthy. 
“Has us all worked up last night.” He groans against your lips. “Hearing you, knowing our alpha was treating you nice.”
He presses his forehead against yours, staring down at you. You meet his gaze, shivering under the intensity in his deep brown eyes. 
“Johnny bout cried he was so worked up.” Gaz's lips twitch in a smile. “Simon left for the gym bout halfway through, had to work out his tension.”
Your brows raise at the news about what Ghost had been up to last night. You figured he might join Johnny in his room, or perhaps head somewhere so he didn't have to hear you. Not that he would leave because he was being affected by you. 
“Johnny was being such a whiny little bastard. Had no choice but to take pity on him.” Gaz nips at your jawline playfully. “I fear he's going to be unbearable until he gets his chance.” 
“Well, he'll just have to wait his turn.” You say. 
Gaz laughs, kissing you again before he takes half a step back, leaning his arm on the door above you. “Any plans today?”
You shrug, still leaning against your door. “Might read, or nap. Maybe both.” You sink your teeth into your lip, reaching back to put your hand on the door handle. “You wanna come in?” 
Gaz's grin widens into a smile, his eyes practically sparkling. “Sure.”
You open the door, stepping into your room. It's a bit of a mess from you preparing for your date last night. You toss the clothes from your bed onto the floor haphazardly before pushing Gaz onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes before making himself comfortable. You toe off your slippers, grabbing your book before joining him on the bed. He pulls you against his side, pulling his phone out of his pocket as you settle against his chest. A quiet content purr begins rumbling in his chest, easing the tension in your body as you relax against him. 
You stay like that, reading while cuddling Gaz, for quite a while. Your door is wide open still, the others coming and going as they do on the weekends. Gaz keeps your back to his chest, arm wrapped around his middle as he scrolls on his phone while you read. 
Slowly his head starts to droop until it's resting against the top of yours. You can feel the content sleepiness settling into your bones as well, the words on the pages starting to swim a bit. You mark your place, moving just enough to set your book on your nightstand before you curl up against him, letting his even breaths lull you to sleep. 
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You jolt awake suddenly as Gaz's arms tighten around you, keeping you from flying off the bed. You blink open your bleary eyes, squinting at Johnny's grinning face inches from yours. His body is draped over both yours and Gaz's, a solid weight against you both. 
“C'mon ye lazies. Gotta eat lunch eventually.” He says, sounding far too chipper for a Sunday afternoon. 
“Fuck off mate.” Gaz says, shoving at Johnny's shoulder. “Was comfy.”
“Yer hogging the omega!” Johnny says, poking Gaz's side. He pushes himself up, scooping you into his arms and lifting you. “Some of us would like tae spend time with ‘er too.” 
You yelp at being lifted suddenly, wrapping your arms around Johnny's neck to hold on for dear life. 
“Well, maybe you just need to be a little bit faster.” Gaz says, standing from the bed. 
“I'm plenty fast.” Johnny almost whines. “Close to beating your time on the course.”
Gaz smirks. “I'll believe it when I see it.” 
You look back and forth between them as Gaz steps closer to Johnny, caging you between them. 
“And ye will see it.” Johnny says.
“Cheeky.” Gaz murmurs, closing the distance between them. 
You stare wide eyed as they kiss just inches in front of your face. It's all tongues and teeth, Soap's chest rumbling against your side as he purrs. A quiet whimper leaves your lips as you watch them, your body starting to get warm again. 
They break apart, both turning to look at you. Gaz's lips turn up in a smirk, Johnny's eyes sparkling. 
“Look at you, kitten.” Johnny smirks. “Ye like watching us?” 
You make another quiet noise, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Johnny slowly lowers you until you're standing between them, Gaz not moving an inch as they trap you in a beta sandwich. Their bodies are warm and solid as you stand there, back to Johnny's chest. You can feel the bulge in his jeans pushing against your ass, Gaz's body a solid weight against your front. 
You can imagine it, naked between them, skin against skin with hands everywhere. A quiet purr begins in your chest, eyes dilating as you stare up at Gaz. He smirks down at you, leaning down towards you. He skirts to the side at the last minute though, kissing Johnny behind you. 
You can't see them this time but lord can you hear it. Johnny is still purring, the sound vibrating against your back. Gaz let's out a quiet sound, his hand dropping to squeeze your waist. 
Johnny pats your side before pulling away. “Should get ye some lunch.”
Your head is still spinning as Gaz hums his approval, stepping away as well. You stand there blinking for a moment at the sudden loss of contact, the sudden shift in energy. 
“C'mon, get yer shoes on, sunshine.” Johnny says. 
You move half in a daze still towards your bed, your body tingling a bit still from the many thoughts that had been racing through your mind. 
Something in the back of your mind begins to itch as you stare down at your bed. Your brows pinch in a frown as you stare down at the mess of blankets and pillows. 
It's not right. 
Your fingertips twitch as you stare at the mess in your nest, your mind taking over as you begin to rearrange the blankets and pillows. You forget you're not alone in the room as you fuss with the blankets until the itching begins to lessen a bit. You fiddle with the pillows, moving them around over and over again until you're happy with how they're organized, the quiet humming in the back of your mind fading away to nothing. 
You sink down on the edge of the bed, letting out a long breath. You feel tired and almost winded after your effort to make sure your nest is just right. 
Nest. 
You're nesting. 
You blink up at Johnny and Gaz, suddenly aware of their presence in your space again. Johnny is staring at you wide eyed, mouth slightly parted in wonder. Gaz has a sparkle in his eye as he grins at you. 
You've just built a nest. 
“Feel better, love?” Gaz asks, still almost beaming from witnessing you make your nest. 
You nod, a sudden weight lifting from your shoulders. You've nested. You're nesting. Everything is going to be okay. 
“C'mon.” Johnny says, slipping your slippers back onto your feet. “Let's get lunch in ye.”
You let him help you up, holding both their hands as you make your way from the barracks, a small, relieved smile on your face.
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You wake up nauseous. 
There’s a clawing feeling in your stomach and you’re not sure why. 
It’s early, too early to be up. The sky outside is still dark, and the barracks are quiet. You get up, heading for the bathroom, the gnawing feeling still plaguing your stomach. Cold water on your face doesn't help the light-headedness or the dizziness you’re beginning to feel. 
You can’t possibly be sick. You haven’t been around anyone that’s sick. You know heat sickness isn’t a threat right now. There’s no warnings out about possible exposures. It couldn’t be food poisoning. You eat the same things they do. 
The gnawing intensifies, your stomach rumbling a bit. 
Realization dawns on you suddenly. 
You’re hungry. 
You’re very hungry. 
You check the time on your phone. Three a.m. Still too early for any of the boys to be up, and still a couple hours from when the mess would start serving breakfast. You head for the rec room, hoping there’s at least something in there to tide you over until breakfast. 
You dig through the cabinets, plenty of tea and a couple packets of instant coffee you know belong to Johnny. You dig out a couple protein bars, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge before taking a seat on the couch. 
The protein bars aren’t great. They don’t taste good, but you’re so hungry you don’t care. You down them quickly and the entire bottle of water. For a moment you feel relief, the gnawing in your stomach easing. You head back to bed, slipping back into your room quietly. 
You toss and turn, unable to go back to sleep as the gnawing begins in your stomach once more. You let out a quiet sound, muffled by your pillow as you lay there, knowing you still have a long time until they’ll come and get you for breakfast. 
The thought makes you almost want to cry. 
You’re waiting as soon as they knock, narrowly avoiding Johnny’s hand as you open the door mid-knock. The bright look in his eyes fades as he stares at you. You know you look miserable, maybe a little sick, even. You feel worse, your stomach twisting and gnawing. Those protein bars four hours ago hadn’t been nearly enough. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” He asks, a frown marring his face. 
“Hungry.” You all but whine, slipping out the door, closing it behind you. 
“Ye hungry, kitten? Ye could have said somethin’ sooner. Coulda brought ye somethin’.” Johnny says, following you down the hall. 
You’re determined to get real food and you’re not about to let anything get in your way. You feel ravenous, despite the fact you’d had a good dinner the night before. 
Maybe it hadn’t been enough. 
You make your own tray this time, loading on more than you usually do. You take your normal spot between Price and Gaz, all four of them eyeing your tray as you happily dig in. 
“Hungry, love?” Price asks, watching you spoon huge mouthfuls of porridge into your mouth. 
You nod, chewing quickly before spooning more in. It tastes delicious, something you never thought you would say about British food. 
They all watch in awe as you clear your tray, eating every last crumb, having to refrain from licking it clean. Finally, for the first time since you went to bed last night, you feel full and satisfied. 
“Damn. Putting us to shame.” Gaz says, staring at your empty, nearly clean tray. 
You grow bashful under their stares, realizing you not only out ate them, you also finished first. “I was hungry.” You say, fiddling with your fork. 
“No kidding.” Ghost huffs out, all of them finishing up their trays. 
You’re in a far better mood leaving the mess than you were entering it, the sweet relief of being full after hours of gnawing hunger making you feel almost giddy. Ghost walks you back to the barracks, walking slow enough you can easily keep up with him. So slow, your arm brushes his as you walk next to him. 
“Sorry.” You say, moving a step away from him. You’re so used to standing directly next to the others, you’ve forgotten Ghost prefers his personal space. 
He stares down at you for a moment but doesn’t say anything, holding the door to the barracks open for you. He stands just inside the door, watching you make your way down the hallway to your room. He waits for the click of the lock before he turns, leaving you alone in the barracks again. 
You settle into your usual routine of laying in your nest and reading, the giddiness starting to wear off as the time passes. You make it until ten a.m. when the gnawing hunger begins to return. You let out an annoyed whine, dropping your book to the floor as you roll onto your stomach. 
You want to cry and scream at the same time, watching the clock tick by on your phone. You’re tired of being so hungry, and what’s worse, you don’t even know why. You’re just ravenous and you can’t think of a reason. 
Lunch can’t come soon enough, and you find yourself struggling through the afternoon just as much. It’s almost like your body is on a timer and every two hours you’re suddenly starving, as if you haven’t eaten all day. You eat just as much as you did at breakfast, scarfing down food like you’re a starving animal. 
You certainly feel like one. 
You head to the rec room after dinner, Ghost and Johnny joining you. Johnny takes the seat next to you on the couch, draping his arm behind you as Ghost takes his usual spot in the chair. 
You curl up against Johnny’s side, watching whatever he decides to put on TV half-heartedly. You’re waiting for the inevitable, the gnawing hunger to creep up on you again. 
It does, roughly two hours into your time in the rec room. 
You shift against Johnny, pressing against his side more as you try to ignore the hunger burning through you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, holding you against him. You breathe in his scent, letting the citrusy scent of him wash over you. 
It only serves to make you more hungry. 
You let out a quiet whine, trying to get closer to him. Tears prick at your eyes as you know there’s no relief coming. There’s no more meals until tomorrow. You’ll have to go all night before you can eat again, before you can relieve the hunger. You’re not sure you’ll make it that long. You might perish in the middle of the night, or become violently ill. Perhaps both. 
You let out another quiet whine, standing from the couch. You can’t take it anymore, both Johnny and Ghost watching you as you head for the cabinets, kneeling on the floor and rummaging through everything, desperate to find another protein bar or anything. 
“What are you doing?” Ghost asks, staring at you as you’re halfway in the cabinet, checking every last corner. 
“Hungry!” You snap, half considering eating one of the tea bags just for something. 
You’ve just closed the cabinet door in irritation when an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you from the floor. You let out a yelp, Ghost carrying you easily back to the couch. 
“Stay.” He says after dropping you back next to Johnny. “I’ll be back.” 
Johnny wraps his arms around you as you pout, nearly in tears from how frustrated you are. You’re just so hungry. 
“Easy, kitten.” Johnny says, pulling you back against his chest. 
You nuzzle into him, curling up into a ball against his side. He starts purring quietly, trying to soothe you while you wait for Ghost to return. You can’t pay attention to the TV, Johnny trying to change the channel every time a food related commercial comes on. 
You’re nearly shaking when Ghost returns, arms full of snacks. Your eyes widen as he dumps them on the coffee table, pushing yourself up from Johnny’s chest. 
“Where did you get these?” You ask, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of the coffee table. 
“Vending machine in the mess.” Ghost answers, sitting back down in his chair. 
You stare at him teary eyed, sniffling a little. “Thank you.” 
He grunts in response, turning his gaze back to the TV as you reach for a bag of chips.
You can barely even taste it as you kneel there on the floor, basking in the first taste of sweet relief from a bag of salt and vinegar chips. You grab them by the handful, burning through the small, snack sized bag quickly. 
You’ve barely finished chewing when you’re reaching for a candybar, a sudden realization striking you as your brain begins to regain the ability to think now that it knows relief is coming. You stare at the purple Cadbury on the front of the packaging, your fingers trembling as you hold the candybar. 
You take a deep breath, quickly opening the wrapper before taking a bit, sitting back on your heels as you chew. “Well, shit.” 
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“I know, I hate the exam rooms too.” Dr. Keller says, flipping through her clipboard. “Too clinical and sterile looking.” She lifts your hand, removing the pulse monitor from your finger. “A little higher than normal.” She says, writing something down on the clipboard. 
She takes your blood pressure and temperature, writing both down on the clipboard. 
“Temperature is still normal.” She says. “How have you been feeling?” 
“Hungry.” You say, picking at the thin fabric of the hospital gown you’ve been forced into. “Ravenously hungry and clingy.” You continue. “A bit more emotional than normal too.” 
Dr. Keller nods, writing all of it down. “Normal things for your pre-heat, according to your file. Anything out of the ordinary? Aches and pains? Any nausea or vomiting, not related to hunger?” 
You shake your head. “No. Kinda sleepy all the time too, but the hunger makes it hard to sleep.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “That’s normal. Your body is preparing for a few days of very little caloric intake and little rest. I’d say you’re exhibiting all the signs of pre-heat. You’re right on time, as expected.” She gives you a little smile. “Judging by your vitals you still have a few days before the full heat symptoms begin. Any questions?” 
“What do institutes do for heats?” John asks where he’s sitting to the side of the exam table. 
“It depends on the institute.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. 
“FIOT rotated between sedation and isolation.” You say, not really wanting to think back on the heats you had gone through at the institute. “Sedation for the full heat, or shutting us in private rooms for a week to ride out the symptoms alone to avoid triggering heats in the other omegas.” 
“Neither are great, but in that sort of environment there’s not a lot that can be done. Sedation is the better of the two, though it can still be disorienting. Isolation is painful and risky, especially if proper care isn’t given.” Dr. Keller says. 
“Is sedation an option for the future?” Price asks. 
You turn to look at him, before looking back at Dr. Keller. 
“It’s something we can explore. I know it can’t be expected of you to be here for every heat. We can start exploring some alternatives after this heat is over and I have a better idea of what they’re going to look like.” Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile. “Now, I’d like to do a little exam just to give me a baseline for after your heat when I check for any abnormalities or injuries.” 
She directs you to lay down on the exam table and put your feet in the stirrups. You suddenly feel nervous, her words doing little to calm you. John appears in your peripheral, slipping his hand into yours. 
“Is that a risk?” You ask as Dr. Keller pulls a clean pair of gloves on. 
“Only a small one.” She says, standing at the end of the table. “I know you’ve probably heard all the horror stories, but those are only really concerns with inexperienced alphas who have never helped an omega through a heat before, especially those who had limited exposure to omegas in general.” She smiles at you. “You’re in good hands, my dear.” 
She does her exam, letting you sit up once she’s finished. John helps you up, still holding your hand. Dr. Keller’s words do ease your concerns just a bit, but you can’t help the images flashing through your mind, the horror stories of mutilations and even deaths. You trust Price to take care of you, but at the same time, you won’t know until it’s over. 
“Everything looks good.” She says. “The best thing you can do right now is try to satiate the pre-heat symptoms and take this time to make sure everything is ready and in place for when the full heat begins. Don’t worry too much.” She looks pointedly at you. “I’ll be on call and ready should something happen.” Her gaze turns to John. “Your beta knows what to look out for, right?” 
John nods. “Kyle has been doing a lot of research. He knows what to do.” 
“Good.” Dr. Keller says, looking back at you. “Why don’t you get dressed, then we can go back to my office where it’s more comfortable and talk some more.” 
Dr. Keller leaves you alone in the room, Price helping you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the room with you. You turn to look up at him, Dr. Keller waiting for you near her office door. 
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Price says, leaning down towards you. 
“Yeah.” You say, standing up on your toes to kiss him. 
You try to ignore the look on Dr. Keller’s face as you walk past her and into her office, your face warming a bit in response. You take your normal seat, trying to get comfortable despite your bashfulness. 
“You and Captain Price seem a lot closer.” Dr. Keller says as she sits across from you on the couch. 
You nod. “Yeah. We, uh, we have gotten closer.” You chew on your lip. “We slept together...on Saturday night. Had a date, he cooked dinner. Then we...did it.” 
Dr. Keller’s brows raise at your words, her face surprised. “Oh? Is that so? Is that something you wanted?” 
You nod. “I asked him if he’d do it. I wanted my first time to be when I could remember it...before I would feel like it was something that had to be done.” 
Dr. Keller hums, writing something down. “Did you have fun?” 
Your face warms at her words, and you halfway wish the chair would swallow you whole. You nod, hiding your fingers beneath your sleeves again. “Yeah. I uh, started nesting too.” 
Dr. Keller’s face breaks out into a huge smile. “That’s great! That’s fantastic news! Perfect timing too.” 
You nod. “Yeah. Started on Sunday. Been feeling it since.” 
“Good. That gives us one less thing to worry about.” She sets her notebook aside, crossing her legs as she stares at you. “How do you feel about your heat coming so soon?” 
“Nervous.” You answer honestly. 
“It can be a bit daunting, I’d imagine, your first heat with an alpha. Captain Price knows what he’s doing, though. He and Sergeant Garrick will take good care of you.” 
“I know.” You say, fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s still scary. A lot of things can happen and...what if one of them does?” 
“It’s not very likely.” Dr. Keller reassures you. “Captain Price knows what he’s doing. He’s experienced with omegas and heats and the likelihood of him losing control is small, even after so long without any contact with an omega. It sounds like Sergeant Garrick has educated himself on things to look for, and what to do to help. I’ll be ready and on call the entire time as well. I’ll make regular check-ins with Sergeant Garrick too, to make sure everything is going smoothly. You’re not alone in this. We’ll all make sure you’re well taken care of. I know it’s a lot to ask you to trust people that are still somewhat strangers, but we all have your best interests in mind here.” 
“I know.” You say quietly. “It’s hard, not knowing much of anything. They tell you everything you should expect at the institute over and over again, then you get in it and everything is different. Nothing is like it should be. Nothing like they said. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 
“I know. You were prepared for one life and got an entirely different one. Lucky for you, though, you’re surrounded by very understanding people who are more than happy to help you. I know this is so far from ideal for you, but I think you’re doing a fantastic job with what you were handed.” 
You stare at your hands, thinking over her words. John’s called you a good omega before. He’s called you that a few times. He thinks you’re doing a good job, despite the fact you feel like none of your skills are useful here. Despite the fact you feel like you haven’t been trying. 
You think over everything they’ve done for you, how hard they’ve tried to help make you as comfortable as possible. She’s right. They’re all so understanding and you know they like you. You can see it in their reactions to you, you can smell it on them. You know Gaz won’t let anything happen to you, even if something goes wrong. 
They have yet to prove themselves untrustworthy, for the most part. 
Maybe you really don’t have anything to worry about. 
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“Come on.” Ghost says, standing in your doorway. You almost don't recognize him in a beanie and surgical mask instead of his usual balaclava. “Get shoes on, and let’s go.” 
“Go where?” You ask, sitting up on your bed. 
“Shopping.” He says, before turning on his heel. 
You frown, but do as he says, slipping on comfortable shoes and grabbing your phone. You head down the hall towards the door, a familiar car parked outside. Price and Ghost are waiting next to the car, both dressed in civilian clothes. You approach them hesitantly, suddenly feeling intimidated in the presence of the two alphas. You know you have nothing to worry about, but this is the first time you'll be alone with both of them. 
Ghost steps up to you, a bottle in his hand. You barely have time to hold your breath before he sprays you down with scent blocker, the harsh chemicals burning your nose as they settle on your skin and cut off your scent. It's necessary, even with two alphas around you. 
“Ready?” John asks, letting his eyes scan over your form for a second. He could probably pick up on your tension and uneasy energy from a mile away. 
“Can...Can I ask why?” You ask as John opens the back door for you. 
“Well, we can't have you starving to death on us, can we?” John smiles. “And we need to get a few things for your heat.”
“Oh.” You say, blinking up at him. 
“Hop in. Hopefully we can get the shopping done before dinner.” John says. 
Before you get hungry again. 
You climb in the backseat, John closing the door before getting in the driver's side. Ghost is already in the passenger seat, buckled in and ready. 
You sit and watch the landscape pass by, the car quiet except for the radio. The contrast between the two betas and the two alphas is almost as distinct as night and day. Johnny and Gaz had talked almost nonstop the entire drive to and back from town. Ghost and Price seem content in their silence, Ghost watching the landscape pass just like you. 
It speaks volumes of their trust and ease with each other. 
The farmlands turn to city and you find yourself back at Asda again. You hold John's hand as you walk, Ghost taking your other side, sandwiching you between them. People stare as you pass, their eyes on Ghost, but he doesn't even seem to notice. 
You stick close to John as you walk through the store, picking up items you'll need for your heat, as well as some other things. Ghost follows like a shadow, people giving you a wide berth when they spot him. You're almost grateful for it. You swear some of them can tell you're about to start your heat, their eyes burning into you as they pass. 
You can feel the beginnings of hunger starting to creep in as you walk down the bed liner aisle. You know if you weren't starting to get hungry, you would have been close to combusting from the knowledge of why this aisle was necessary. 
You let out a sigh, leaning your head against John's arm as he crosses the bed liner off the list. 
“What?” He asks, amusement in his voice. 
“You know what I miss?” You say, wrapping your arms around one of his. “Good authentic Mexican food.” 
The corner of John's lips lift in a smile. “Yeah? You getting hungry again?” 
You nod, a subtle whine to your tone. “Yeah.”
John turns to look at Ghost, the two alphas having a seconds long silent conversation before Ghost heads off, disappearing from the aisle. 
“Where's he going?” You ask. 
“Getting a head start on the other supplies for your heat.” John says. “Just a couple more things, then your snacks and we'll be done and we'll get some dinner.” 
You stop as you turn the corner around the end of the aisle, your eyes spotting a giant teddy bear. It looks soft and squishy, your pre-heat addled brain already picturing the perfect spot for it in your nest. 
“You want it?” John asks, looking between you and the bear. 
You snap back into reality for a moment, glancing up at the price. You nearly die on the spot, shaking your head. “I-I don't...”
John turns you to face him, speaking firmly. “Do you want it?”
You stare up into his eyes, nodding slowly. 
His gaze softens just a bit, a smile tugging at his lips. “Then grab it.” 
You're moving before you can even have a second thought, wrapping your arms around it and lifting it off the shelf. It's just as soft as you thought it would be, nearly as big as you are too. You can imagine cuddling it in your nest, napping contently, surrounded in soft plushness. 
“C'mon pup.” John says, patting your back gently. You're purring, you realize suddenly, the sound leaving you entirely unconsciously. “Let's get you some snacks then we'll get dinner.”
You carry the bear, following John to the grocery section of the store. He takes you to the snack aisle and you pass the bear off to him, grabbing anything and everything that looks good, loading up the cart. You grab a few things from the American section as well, snacks you didn't think you'd miss, but right now they sound like manna straight from heaven. 
“Simon's done with his part.” John says, glancing at his phone. “We'll meet back at the car.” 
You take the bear back once you're done filling the cart with snacks, heading towards the checkout. You're hesitant to let the bear go long enough to be scanned before you're holding it again, purring quietly and contently. 
John keeps his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot towards the car. There's already bags in the trunk from Ghost, the alpha already in the passenger seat. They must have both been carrying keys to the car. Safety precautions. Things most people wouldn't even think about. 
“Thank you.” You say as John fills the trunk with the rest of the bags. “You didn't have to do this.”
“Yes we did.” John says, looking down at you. “Not going let you starve like that if we can help it.”
“It's still strange to me, getting taken care of.” You say, squeezing the bear. “Still makes me feel a bit like a sugar baby.”
John chuckles. “Don't worry, I won't make you call me daddy.” He leans in close to your ear. “Unless you want to.” 
Your face burns hot, your entire body igniting with heat at his words. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass, directing you to the door of the car before taking the cart back to the store. 
Your face is still burning as you attempt to climb into the car with your bear, giving up and stuffing it in first. 
“What the hell is that?” Ghosts asks, turning to look at you.
“My new bear.” You respond, arranging the bear so its sitting in the seat beside you. 
“Christ.” He breathes, and you can practically hear the eye roll as you buckle the bear in. 
You buckle yourself in as John climbs in the driver's seat.
“All set?” He asks, turning to look at you. 
You nod, smiling happily despite the hunger eating away at you. 
“Let's get some dinner, then we'll head back to base.” John says, turning on the car. “Can't have our omega starving on us, can we?” 
Ghost snorts. “Best feed her before she decides we look appetizing.” 
You wrinkle your nose. “You'd be too gamey, Ghost.” You say, eyeing him before turning your gaze to the seat in front of you. “John, though...” You lick your lips. “I already know you taste good.”
John lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles with the edge of a pleased growl. “Easy, kitten.”
Ghost lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “Spare me. Now there's two of ‘em.” 
John chuckles again, squeezing Ghost's shoulder. “Little did you know, Simon.” 
Ghost turns to look at John. “Is it too late to get a refund?” 
You stifle a giggle as John smiles. “You'll have to ask Laswell.”  
Ghost sighs, turning to look out the window. “No hope for it, then.” 
“Hey, at least I'm cute!” You grin. “Don't tell Johnny I said that.” 
You practically beam with pride as you see Ghost's shoulders shake with his laughter. Maybe you can get through to him more than you think you can. 
Maybe, just maybe, you can get him to like you. 
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The knock comes at your door unexpectedly. It's late, and you had just begun to feel the pangs of hunger once more. You hate it, but you know it's necessary considering you'll have to go roughly a week getting in nothing but what nutrient bars can offer while exerting insane amounts of energy. Your body needs to store the calories now so that you don't die during your heat. 
You're surprised to see Ghost on the other side of the door, back in his balaclava. His shoulders are squared, but you can't scent any anger or hostility on him. 
He almost seems...nervous. 
“Hungry?” He asks, staring down at you. 
“Always.” You answer almost instinctively, staring up into his deep brown eyes. 
He motions for you to follow with his head. “C'mon.” 
You frown a little, but you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. You follow him towards the rec room, staring at his broad back. His shoulders are still squared, hands in his pockets. 
The rec room is set up again not unlike it was for your date with John. The card table is out and there's foil covered dishes on it, along with a couple plates. Your brows raise in surprise as you take it all in. 
“I made you something.” Ghost says, moving over to the table, removing the foil from one of the dishes. 
You move closer, blinking in surprise. “You made...enchiladas?” 
He nods. “As close as I could get with what I could find on short notice. There's rice and beans, too. And salsa.” 
Tears blur your vision as you stare down at the food on the table. It smells delicious and that's not just your ravenous pre-heat hunger talking. “You...did this for me?”
“Well, I had help,” He says, looking past you. 
You turn, Soap and Gaz standing at the windows that frame the door to the rec room. They smile and wave at you as you turn to look at them. A quiet laugh leaves your mouth as you smile at them. 
“Help yourself.” Ghost says as you turn back to the table. “There's plenty.”
You serve yourself a plate, nearly melting off the chair as you take the first bite. It takes you all the way back home, the good years when your father was stationed in Texas. 
“Taste okay?” Ghost asks, watching you. “I know it's not authentic, but I did a lot of research.”
“It's amazing, Ghost. Really.” You say. “Tastes just like the ones my mom would make.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.”
He shrugs, looking almost bashful. “It's the least I could do. I know how big of a deal heats are to omegas and how nervous you've been. Thought you could use a little comfort.” 
You smile softly. “That means a lot.” You can't help but giggle softly. “I knew you liked me deep down.”
He gives you a look, making you giggle even more. “Don't push it.” 
NEXT ->
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multific · 6 months
Text
Scent
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Alpha!Simon Riley x Omega!Reader
Warning: non-explicit smut. 
Summary: Building nests was part of the process of an Omega going into heat. However you never actually thought you would find yourself locked away in a house with your Lieutenant.
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To say that the mission has gone to shit would be an understatement.
They were hunting you down and if it wasn't for Ghost, you would be dead by now.
If it wasn't for him and his sharp reflexes you would be lying with a bullet in your skull.
But you weren't.
Instead, you were in a much worse situation.
At the start of your mission, you took your suppressants, figuring you would be back the next day, you didn't even pack any, so now, you were here, on an uncomfortable mattress, trying to make it homey for your heat.
You never actually minded going into heat. You could just lock your door, fill your room with food and be good for a couple of days.
But this was a very different situation.
You were in a bunker-like building, hiding for survival with an Alpha who was also your Lieutenant. 
Not a situation you wanted to be in.
"You need to rest, I will keep watch." he avoided you, and didn't even come close to you, he just stopped at the door, never entering the room. He did put food down for you on the floor every day, commenting when you didn't eat something.
He was kind.
You knew he could smell your heat coming up, Alphas always did.
You know the upcoming days will be as much of a torture for him, as it will be for you.
You were glad it was Ghost with you, at least he had control over his alpha.
Before you could reply, he already left. Going as far away from you as possible. Yet, your smell still lingered. 
Sure, Simon had control over his alpha, but the temptation was too great. You were perfect. In every aspect of the word. The perfect woman, partner, and omega.
At first, Simon thought you had no place in the army, he thought Price had gone insane but you proved him wrong.
Your kindness wasn't your weakness, instead your strength. 
Simon took a deep breath, his mind and body immediately filled up with your scent, and how sweet you smelled. Simon, out of frustration, hit the wall, making the brick crumble.
He knew he should be there with you, help you, and yet, he was forcing himself away from you. 
Even if everything inside him was screaming for him to go to you, help you, feed you, and keep you safe and comfortable.
He knew he can't.
The next day he brought you another plate of food. 
"Ghost..." your voice came out way too desperate. "Can I have your shirt, please? The smell of the... pillows are..." Simon didn't need to be asked twice. He handed you his sweatshirt in a swift movement. "Thank you." he watched as you cuddled up with his clothes and he couldn't help but wish it was him. He forced himself to stand up and leave.
His scent really did help ease your pain as your heat reached its high. 
Your mind is filled with all the different lewd things. 
And yet, somehow, even with a hazy mind, even with a fog before your eyes, deep down, you knew better than to act upon those images filling your mind.
But you didn't know how to keep your scent at bay, not like there was a method or something. 
And it caused quite an interesting reaction with Simon.
While you were locked in a room, touching yourself to the thought of an Alpha, he kept stroking his cock to the scent and thought of you. 
You both knew it was forbidden, but no one was around, no one could hear your thoughts and your moans.
And for now, it was enough.
---
Thankfully, your heat soon ended, Simon got used to your smell as it slowly weakened. 
You started to grow stronger, and back to normal, but it will take you a couple of days to be fully back in action.
Simon knew this.
"How are you feeling?" he asked from the doorway, while you lay on the mattress on the floor.
"Your smell disappeared," you said with a pout as you looked at him.
"I will give you my shirt then, let's exchange." he said as he held out his shirt for you to take, you gave him the sweatshirt back.
His shirt smelled like you now. 
"We will have to leave in a few days, we have been here for almost a week now. We cannot stay, they will find us."
"I will be good to go tomorrow. I'm still a bit hazy though," you said and Simon nodded.
"How can I help more?"
"You have done plenty, Simon." use never used his name before, it was always Lieutenant or Ghost, nothing more, nothing less. 
You kept it professional. Until now.
"I will bring you more food for dinner, so you can have your strength back."
"Thank you, Alpha." you whispered the last part, but he heard you.
God, he heard you very well. As the door closed behind him, he just stood there, too stunned to move. Everything in him screamed to go inside and to claim you.
But he couldn't. He shouldn't.
And yet, he did.
He turned right back, opened the door and for the first time in four days, he stepped inside, closing the door behind himself.
He looked at you as you lay with his shirt pressed into your face, smelling it.
He knelt down beside you, taking deep breaths to remember your scent.
You opened your eyes and smiled at him.
"Took you long enough." you said as you moved to turn around and leave some space behind yourself.
"Shut it." he whispered before he moved to lay down with you in your nest, holding you close with his nose in your hair. "Omega." he said and it made you humm. "You smell so good." he took a deep breath and you smiled to yourself, not opening your eyes.
You put your hand on his which held you close by your stomach.
"You could have been here for my heat."
"I wouldn't have been able to control myself."
"Of course, you would have. You are Simon Riley... What made you realize that I wanted you here all along?"
"Your smell had a hint of sadness every day. But when I came into the room... you smelled like hope and..."
"Love." you finished for him. "Am I truly that obvious?"
"The smell of an Omega never lies to an Alpha."
"You are right, I'm a lot happier as well."
"Same."
"I wish we didn't have to leave."
"Same." he breathed out one last time before you fell asleep in his arms.
Building nests was part of the process of an Omega going into heat.
And Simon never failed to notice that you made yours bigger, to give room to him.
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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Text
The Old Way
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Listen... I don't even know what I'm on with this. Just... don't judge me. Omfg what is wrong with me.
AO3 Link -- TW: omegaverse wildness, biting, blood, etc.
Your people are starving, and your clan's Alpha has asked you, their only remaining Omega, to give yourself up as a sacrifice to save them. So, you agree, and you are to be mated to one of the Alphas of Clan 141, praying that it is to any of them except Alpha Price. He is known to have a knot that is impossible to take, but when you finally meet him, you're not sure of what's possible anymore. Will you risk it all to be with him, even if his knot might kill you? One way to find out…
The Old Way
You couldn’t see the stars. The shroud that hung over your head was made from fine, black silk, and through its thin organza, you could barely make out the shape of the Watcher in front of you, much less the glittering galactic expanse overhead. You were wrapped like a gift, and if you wanted to save the lives of everyone you’d ever loved, you would remain cloaked in your darkness, hidden, waiting for your big moment. More than anything, you wanted to pull your veil away from your eyes just to see the familiar constellations again, to comfort yourself with their shapes, to make one last independent choice before all of your volition was stolen from you forever. 
That wasn’t the right word. You couldn’t steal something that was given freely. You were not bound, and you were certainly not forced to wear the shadowed veil against your will. You had selected this path for yourself, and now you were living through the consequences of that decision.
As the only Omega in your clan – the first one born in seventy years – you were raised on the knowledge that you may one day be asked to give up your life for your clan. After the war, life was hard, and now that your people were stuck in a seemingly endless drought, it had become even more desperate. Your clan leader, Alpha Roan, had come to you six weeks ago with a terrible look in his eyes, a palpable guilt, still wearing his mourning collar for his long-lost mate, Omega Kiran, and he had asked you if you would be willing to undergo The Exchange.
His own wife had come to your clan through The Exchange, and although they had chosen to perform a private ceremony, you knew that it had been a challenge for her. Before she died, she had taught you much about your role, but you were still a youngling, and some things were just not for you to hear at such an age. 
You thought about the years that had passed after the loss of your clan’s Omega. Alpha Roan had insisted on your education, and your training, but the idea that you would be asked to leave your clan through The Exchange was always a distant threat. But, now, here it was. You had been called by your Alpha to sacrifice yourself for their benefit; not in a marriage of love, but in a clan trade. 
You had been asked by your Alpha to think about your choice. After he left you to ponder your choice, you sat down in your chambers surrounded by your Watchers, the women who had raised you, who had taught you to read, to write, to fight, and to charm. They looked at you with the same guilty, knowing eyes, and they asked you if you were prepared to make the sacrifice. 
“You do know what awaits you at the end of The Exchange, don’t you, Omega?” Watcher Trinity had asked you quietly, holding your hands in her shaking fingers, the wrinkled skin of her knuckles folding and stretching over her thin bones. 
You nodded, “Yes, Watcher. I am to be given to a new Alpha.”
She had looked at you then, her eyes sharp and calculating, trying to figure out how she would ask her next question.   
“Do you know the way in which you will be given, Omega?” 
Her tone chilled your heart, sinking through your body like ice across a pond, freezing you in place. You waited. There was more that she needed to say, and you allowed her to explain. 
And now that you knew the truth, you felt fully prepared to accept the terms of the agreement. You would deliver your people from their strife, and any pain, any shame, and any horror that you experienced from this point onward would be in service to your clan. You hoped that would be enough solace to sustain you. There was no shame in your sacrifice, you knew that. But, in your soul, you knew that knowing a thing and experiencing a thing were two vastly disparate sides of the same coin. 
You informed your clan Alpha, holding your chin high, 
“I accept the terms of The Exchange, Alpha Roan.”
“Your people are forever in your debt, Omega. Watchers,” he addressed your caregivers, “Please make preparations in the old way of our clan.”
“The old way, Alpha Roan?” Watcher Trinity had asked, her voice giving away her apprehension.
“Yes, Watcher. We will follow the law, no matter how… upsetting it may be. Clan 141 is too powerful for us to take any undue risks. If they do not accept her, we may not survive their engagement.”
Even in your sheltered little academy, you had heard of Clan 141. Their clan was small, but it was deeply feared. If any other clan dared step out of line, the 141 were there to rain hellfire and destruction down on them until there was nothing left. They were not cruel, but they abided no violent acts in their territory, and any whisper of rekindling the war efforts or of superseding the peace treaty was dealt with swiftly and decisively. 
Before the war, kings and presidents and generals had pulled the strings. Now that the world lay in ruins, the 141 was the only thing between your small clan and total destruction from larger, more aggressive packs. The 141 was the only reason your people still had other clans to trade with; they had made sure smaller communities had access to fair market costs for food and services, and no one dared to shun your merchants now that you were under their protective wing. 
Your Watchers had done their best to ease you into your preparations. Clan 141 would be at the neutral ground in six weeks, and your team had tried to make every moment of that window meaningful in your training. They had started slowly, teaching you to stretch your untouched hole with your fingers, showing you diagrams and depictions of your own anatomy, warning you of the physical trial of taking an Alpha’s knot. 
It was mortifying when you endured your first test. Watcher Gillar and Watcher Bhin had made you sit in front of a mirror and show them your progress. You were told to clench and release the muscles of your hole on command, fluttering it to prove its strength. Then, they had produced a carved, glass phallus, expecting you to practice on a smaller model before moving you up to a more advanced size. 
You took it from their hands, looking at its curved, rigid shape with wide-eyed curiosity, trying to swallow your grief at being seen doing the unthinkable by people you considered to be your closest friends and caregivers. It almost made you regret your decision. But, your people needed you, so you rested the smooth tip of the phallus at the entrance of your hole and began to shove it inside of yourself. 
This new feeling was overwriting your mind, so alien and yet so very comforting to you, confounding in its sensations yet overwhelming in its unique, bright pleasure.
It was a struggle, but you managed to slip it into your body almost down to the large, bulbous knot on the end. The sharp pain of being entered for the first time was not as terrible as you had feared, but when you pulled the phallic rod back out of you, it was cloudy with your slick and your blood. 
“Try the knot, Omega. Your Alpha will be twice as large as this, at least. You do not want your first experience to be at the ceremony. I know that you will want to appear strong in front of the other clans.” Watcher Bhin encouraged you, holding you to her shoulder as she sat behind you, trying her best to comfort you through such a harrowing ordeal. 
You put their practice cock back inside of you, slipping down further than you had, feeling the wide anatomy pressing against your entrance, but still unable to take the full knot inside. You pushed and pulled with your muscles, just like your Watchers had taught you, but it wouldn’t budge. You were panting, sweating, and teetering on the edge of an embarrassing orgasm in front of your Watchers, and you gasped out, exasperated, 
“I can’t. I don’t think I can do this, Watcher.”
“Lay back, Omega. I will help you,” Watcher Gillar said softly, replacing your hand with hers at the base of the phallus. 
You lay down on your back against your soft pillows, trying to avoid your Watchers’ pitying eyes. Then, you felt a cool gel being applied around the sore ring of your hole; something to ease the way since there was no true Alpha present to coax your slick from your glands. Watcher Bhin had held your hand in hers, gripping you tightly, letting you squeeze her through the pain, wiping away your tears as the glass bulb of the pretend knot began to split you, stretching your body before finally popping into place.
You Watchers had comforted you for a few minutes, but then you were told to begin your meditations.
With much difficulty, you sat up, feeling the heavy knot nestled against your walls. Then, Watcher Bhin handed you a firm pillow, and you understood that you must straddle it, and that it would push the knot against you. You were to train your body and your mind to accept it so that you would have the stamina to withstand the ceremony. 
“Do not be afraid to listen to your body, Omega. We will return to help you remove it and recover. I will light some incense for you. Concentrate on your strength.”
You nodded, uncrossing your legs and settling yourself over the firm pillow, feeling the deep, sacral grind of the phallus as you set your weight against it. When you were left alone, you began your breathing techniques, but all the while, a flush was rushing across your skin, the shadow of a rising desire to come, and yet subtly different. Something whispered in your mind, and you wondered if you could call your slick down yourself, without an Alpha’s help. 
So, you tried, rocking back and forth across the pillow, churning the knot within your core, feeling the rounded tip rubbing against your deepest parts. You removed your robes, letting the flush keep you warm, watching yourself in the tall mirror, meeting your own eyes. 
It took only minutes before a true orgasm was upon you, but you tried to hold it at bay, searching through the sparkling, cracking fog of pleasure for the part of you that made you special. No Beta would survive a knotting; they never did, and it was a crime to even try. But, you were meant for it, and you knew that your Watchers’ training would not let you down. You breathed through the bliss, reaching out with your mind towards your slick, imagining it, visualizing your success, manifesting it deep within you. 
When the Watchers found you later that night, they woke you with cool rags and worried faces,
“What happened, Omega? How did you…” Watcher Gillar looked down at your bare legs to where the pillow sat under you, seeing a torrent of slick and milky come covering your skin and the silk of the bolster, confused by how you could produce it without an Alpha’s beckoning call. It was just not done, not even considered to be a possibility. 
After that night, there was much chatter amongst the Watchers. They consulted old tomes, dusting off the pages in the library of your little academy where you trained far away from the rest of your village, kept up here in your tower like a Delphic oracle, buried like a treasure. 
The training became more intense, and each practice phallus that your Watchers produced became harder and heavier, each bearing knots that were unfathomably large. You used your newfound power to face each of your challenges, less ashamed now to perform in front of your team, but knowing that the ceremony would be something else entirely. 
You had asked about it one night as your Watchers were helping you bathe after a particularly difficult practice session, 
“Will there truly be none absent from the ceremony, Watcher Trinity?”
“Only the cubs and their mothers are forbidden from attending. Otherwise, all clan members are obligated to witness The Exchange. We will even invite Clan Farlight and Clan Seres to the feast as a token of goodwill. You know this, Omega,” her tone was a little impatient, wondering why you were asking such a basic question, “Your Alpha has asked for your ceremony to be conducted in the old way, according to the original scrolls.” 
“I am worried that I will dishonor you with my abilities. I cannot seem to take even these false knots without tears,” you repeated the old scripture, chanting it rote to your Watcher just as you used to do when you had started your adult training, “Omegas are vessels. They will silently submit. The ceremony will be still, honoring the sacrifice.”
Watcher Trinity knelt down beside your bath and made you look at her. Her eyes softened, and she told you,
“Yes, that is what is written, but it is not that simple. You have already honored us with your sacrifice. We have no grain. We have skinny, milkless goats, and our well is nearly dry. When we feast after your ceremony, the full bellies of your people will mean so much more than any perceived weakness that you are reluctant to show.” She grabbed your hand out of the warm water, holding it in hers, “If you need to cry, we will understand, and we will be comforting you from the crowd. Trust me, Omega.”
You tried to put it all out of your mind as you marched down the path, following behind your Watchers as they surrounded you, adorned in their own ceremonial garb. They had worn their armor and their long, red robes, carrying huge, black scythes like walking sticks, as was the custom of your clan. Your Alpha was walking in the front of your pack, guiding your clan to the meeting point. You could just see the white, canvas tops of the tents and yurts that had been constructed for the ceremony, meant to house hundreds of people for at least three days. Yours was the biggest, its adornment the most splendid. But that was little comfort to your frayed nerves. 
You were miles from home at this point, missing the comfort of your room and your books, knowing that you would never return there, and that perhaps your new Alpha would not allow you to keep any of your belongings from your old life. 
You’d heard horror stories from some of the Betas in your clan, tales of Alphas who used their Omegas like slaves, keeping them clad in irons, surviving in dark dungeons only to be used to breed and to give their Alphas carnal pleasure. 
While you were being prepared for this journey, a pair of Beta women had helped you paint your skin, drawing intricate symbols and prayers in gold flake, chittering about the ceremony and the feast without knowing what you had been through over the past six weeks.
“This is the first time I will witness a ceremony done in the old way,” Beta Lilia said. 
“Do you know which Alpha will claim you?” Lilia’s friend, Beta Tyran, asked you, not knowing how loaded her words were.
You shook your head; you didn’t even know how many Alphas belonged to Clan 141. Lilia gushed about them for you, taking the conversation out of your hands,
“Clan 141 has four Alphas! Can you imagine? I hear that they have an entire army of Omegas as well. Alpha Garrick is so handsome, and he has three gorgeous Omegas. They are almost too beautiful to look upon.. I saw him when I was at the central market once. He was leading a team, hunting the vagabonds who set fire to a farmer’s field, you remember when that happened? It was years ago now. He was so imposing. But, that other one was there, too.” 
She made a face that was strong enough to make you ask about it,
“Which one?”
“The Ghost, Alpha Riley. They say that no one has seen his face. He wears a terrifying skull mask. I heard from Yair that he has three Omegas as his guards, all masked as well. Yes! Guards! They have armor and weapons and huge, bulging muscles. Beautiful and lethal –”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beta Tyran interrupted, “No one would give their Omegas weapons. No one would let their Omegas out in the public markets! Imagine the danger.”
Lilia shrugged, “Yair said that these Omegas were the danger.” 
Then, you heard about Alpha MacTavish, a descendant from one of the ancient warlords, charming and fearsome. He kept two Omegas as his brides, always pregnant, but almost as fearsome as Alpha Riley’s guards. Alpha MacTavish often expected them to travel with their Beta friends, to take their children up into the mountains, hunting and fishing and exploring outdoors. All sorts of stories about his large, loving family. You silently hoped you would be claimed by him. It would be nice to live amongst Omegas and their cubs. 
“Which one is their Apex Alpha? There must be one in a clan with so many Alphas,” you mused, asking the girls since you did not know much about Clan 141 yourself.
The Betas shared a look, and then Lilia shook her head,
“You will not be claimed by him, Omega. Don’t worry.”
“Why?” You pried, using your influence to force her to tell you.
“His name is Alpha Price, the leader of Clan 141. He’s the deadliest man in the entire land, and he’s the one who destroyed Clan Konni.”
The weight of that news sank in, and the dramatic tone of her story had attracted other Betas and Watchers to gather around you to listen to her tale, 
“Alpha Price has never claimed an Omega. They say that he had tried. He had found one of Alpha Garrick’s Omegas to be very pretty, but she tried to take his knot and failed, so Alpha Garrick took her under his protection instead.”
“Failed?” Watcher Bhin asked, shocked by the implication. 
“My sister was a medic who served with the Alliance in the most recent skirmish, and the 141 helped defeat the rebels who were killing members of Clan Darrah a few years ago. She said that she served under the doctor who had healed Alpha Garrick’s Omega. Said he’d never seen anything like it before in his life. She was so strong, and yet…”
Lilia’s words hung heavy in the air, and all of the women looked at each other and then at you, suddenly feeling the weight of your sacrifice, ashamed at their earlier levity. Tyran shook her head and patted you on the arm, 
“Don’t worry. Alpha Price will not claim you. You have nothing to worry about.”
That night, painted gold and covered in your black silks, you sat in your tent and meditated while you waited for the other clans to arrive. Your mind kept wandering to Alpha Price and his lonely existence. Had he really injured an Omega during his claiming of her? How large must his knot have been to do so? It made you shudder to think about it, and yet deep inside of you, your core warmed from the thought. If he imprinted on you…
But, imprinting was just a myth. Something only written in old texts as a footnote or a story. It was a part of the ritual of The Exchange, but it wasn’t real. 
“Omega,” Watcher Trinity interrupted your meditation and peeked her head into your tent, “It is time to present The Cloth.”
Clan 141 was here, then. 
The ritual of The Exchange began with The Shroud, which you were already wearing. Then, it was The Cloth. If all went well, it would then be The Meeting. And finally, The Ceremony.
The Cloth was a gift from the Omega to her new Alpha, a token of her affection and a chance for him to smell her scent for the first time. In ancient legends, this is when her true mate would imprint upon her, her Omegan scent bringing out his Alphic marks, dark spots or stripes across his neck and back, making him look like a big cat, ready to bite into her neck and claim her as his own. 
She tried to shake herself out of that fantasy world. All she could hope was that one of their Alphas would be drawn to her scent enough to accept her. Her people were depending on her.
“Here is your cloth, Omega. I embroidered it myself. I hope that it honors you,” Watcher Trinity handed you a wooden box, carved and adorned with great care, and when you opened it, you found a red silk square of fabric, sewn with the sigils and symbols of your clan in fine gold thread. You smiled up at your Watcher and reached out to hold her in your arms,
“It’s perfect, Watcher. Thank you for caring for me.”
You were both fighting off tears when she finally pulled away. You hoped that your Alpha would at least let you say goodbye after the ceremony, even if you might never see her again. 
Watcher Trinity and all of the other women left you alone again in your tent, giving you privacy to prepare The Cloth. You made yourself naked, and you began to rub the silk across your neck and glands, trying to soak your scent into the piece. Then, you wiped it between your legs, swiping up some of your wetness to coat the fabric. Usually, this would be enough. You could call your Watcher back into the tent and give her the box, and you would be done. 
But, something in your heart told you to try to call out your slick. You listened to your instincts, and you began to rub the soft fabric against your folds, bringing your own pleasure to a warm, shining height. Just when you thought you might not be able to do it, that your nervousness would make it too difficult or that you might black out again from the effort, you felt something inside of you slip free. Then, your hole was flooded, the orgasm making your vision go blurry and form spots at the edges, your whole body convulsing from the strength of your pleasure, and you had to lay down just to try and stay awake through your gushing bliss. 
You felt it coat the silk and your hand, a thick, milky slick, and your heart swelled with pride. You knew that a gift this special would sway the attention of at least one of their Alphas. You trusted in your skills and training that you were worthy of this ceremony and that your people would be saved. 
Sitting up, you carefully opened the box and returned The Cloth to its resting place, soaked with your scent. You took time to clean yourself up, stuffing wet blankets into your laundry packs and hiding them away, remaking your nest before your Watcher would know what you had done. You weren’t sure why you were keeping a secret from them, but you just felt like this was something between you and your Alpha. A promise, of sorts. 
You replaced your black silks and veil over your otherwise unclothed body and called your Watchers. They entered your tent along with Alpha Roan. 
His eyes widened as he approached you, taking the box from your hands. Quietly, as if knowing that this was an extremely private affair, he whispered to you, 
“What have you done, little Omega?”
“I am doing what needs to be done, Alpha. Please, deliver my message to my new Master.”
You use of the ancient terminology caught your clan Alpha off guard, but you were glad of it. If this was to be done in the old way, then you would withstand it, but you would also do it your way. You were the Omega, here, and you were the reason your clan would survive this struggle. It was time you started acting like the heroine that you were. You would be your people’s strength, no matter the cost.
“Very well,” Alpha Roan sighed, closing the box, calling out to your team, “Watchers, bring your Omega to The Cloth ritual.”
You were guided to the path again, leaving your tent behind and walking towards the big, outdoor theater. It was a crude coliseum of sorts, a large circular pit lined with rows and rows of carved seating that was cut into the land. People had already begun to line the viewing platforms, each clan decorated in their traditional garb. You felt proud to see the stripe of red where your people sat, holding each others’ hands and praying for your safe arrival. 
You were not greeted with raucous applause but instead with reverent silence. Alpha Roan walked in front of your Watchers, and you were the last one into the theater, dressed only in your sheer shroud, trying your best not to feel self-conscious about the fact that - because of the firelight - everyone could see your naked, painted body through the veil, even though you were covered head to toe in the organza. In the tent, the lighting was low and kept you in darkness, hiding your body under the thin silk. But, not here in the theater. Your skin was illuminated by the torches, and you knew that even your friends and neighbors could now see your most private parts. 
You made sure that your face did not give away your lingering shame. 
Alpha Roan took center stage, and you saw the Alphas of Clan 141 for the first time. 
Alpha MacTavish was standing between his two Omegas, and you mused that his oldest children must have stayed behind to care for his cubs. He was dressed in his Clan’s black gear, covered in armor like a gladiator, his head shaven into a mohawk, spiked and messy on the crown of his head. His body was huge and stocky, and the Omegas seated at his sides looked so tiny compared to his bulk. But, they were strong. Their bellies were round with the promise of future cubs, and their skin and hair glowed like the stars. 
Alpha Garrick stood next to him, his Omegas seated together to his right, dressed in the finest robes you had ever seen. He clearly had a type, and you thought that they looked like triplets, all decorated in jewels and gold, riches you’d never even dreamt of. Their Alpha was every bit as handsome as the stories had promised. He had pouty, full lips that were curled in a snarky sort of smile, and his soft brown eyes exuded pure confidence. His hands were wide and powerful, resting on his curved blade that lay sheathed at his hip. 
Alpha Riley was masked, as you had been told, as were his Omegas. They were not seated, and every bit of armor that was strapped to his hulking body was also strapped to them. They had glittering knives, bows, arrows, and slings, looking like they could win their own war by themselves. Their bodies were heavily muscled, and all four of them seemed as tall as Alpha MacTavish, standing proudly in leather boots. 
Then, you saw Alpha Price. He was holding a large wooden stick, at least seven feet tall, with hundreds of notches sliced into the side. You wondered what he was keeping track of, and you shuddered to know. His beard was neatly trimmed, and his hair was cut high and tight on the sides. He was certainly bigger and better muscled than each of his men, but that was not what you noticed about him first. It was his eyes. They were piercingly blue, like glacial ice, and they were looking right at you. Hungry. 
Something inside of your core tightened under his scrutiny, but Alpha Roan’s voice shook you from your trance,
“Clan Arlos welcomes Clan 141 to The Exchange. We present you with our offering, an unmated Omega, 26 years of age, fully trained in the old ways of our people. She is our greatest gift, and we ask for your acceptance of our sacrifice.”
Alpha Roan held up the box with The Cloth inside for all to see. He set it on the large, marble altar in the middle of the stage and backed away from it, waiting for the other Alphas to take part in the ritual. 
Alpha Price spoke, and your body nearly trembled at the sound of his deep, purring voice. You were more nervous than you thought, and you tried to breathe to manage yourself. 
“We will consider your honorable offering, Clan Arlos.”
With that, he slammed his huge stick against the stony ground and Alpha MacTavish stepped up to the altar. He opened the box, and along with the other Alphas in attendance, his body had a visceral reaction. His hands went to touch the cloth and he brought it to his nose, smelling your scent with a sort of wonder and amazement. 
Then, to your great relief, he raised his hand, palm outward, as a show of his acceptance of your scent. If you accepted him as well, you would be mated. 
But, the slamming sound of the stick shook you out of your celebrations. Alpha Price called up Alpha Garrick. 
This was most unusual. Typically, only one Alpha had to agree. It wasn’t like you had much choice in the matter. Even if Alpha MacTavish’s scent did not stir your heart, you would still submit to him as expected. This was not a marriage of love but of convenience. 
MacTavish looked back over his shoulder at Price, just as shocked as you were. His Omegas looked even more taken aback, strangely offended that you would not automatically join them. But, Alpha MacTavish returned the cloth to the box and made room for Garrick, disappointed and visibly confused. 
Alpha Garrick opened the box and buried his face against The Cloth, breathing in once, twice, and then tasting the fabric, right in front of everyone. It was his right, but it was a little audacious. 
His palm went up, high in the air, and his Omegas smiled and held each other’s hands, excited at your acceptance. 
Another loud slam. Another rejection. 
You may still end up with MacTavish or Garrick after negotiations, you remembered, but you were now wondering why Alpha Price had chosen to test you against all three of his men before making a decision. It was very odd. Alpha Roan looked greatly concerned. 
Alpha Riley approached the altar, his gloved hands prying open the box, then, he lifted the bottom of his mask to reveal his mouth and nose. The slightest murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. He bent to smell your scent, and he raised his hand in the air, signaling his acceptance before replacing his mask. You thought you caught the hint of a smile just before his pale lips disappeared beneath the skull plate again. 
Slam! The stick pounded against the floor.
All of Clan 141 turned to look at Alpha Price at once. Your heart stopped. Why would he… Why would Alpha Price want to undergo The Cloth ritual himself? He had no Omega. Surely, he wouldn’t claim you now, not after what had happened. You watched Alpha Garrick’s Omegas. One of them stared at Alpha Price with wide, glossy eyes. You thought that it must be his prior candidate for a mate. She was afraid for you. They were all afraid.
All eyes were on Alpha Price as he approached the altar, and the entire theater was silent as he took The Cloth in his hands. He lay it out flat, in no rush, inspecting the wet stain that you had left for him, using his thumb to feel the fine, gold embroidery. Then, his eyes darted up to yours. He was the first one to look at you while he held The Cloth to his nose, that icy gaze making you tremble with anticipation. 
You were so lost in his eyes that you didn’t see what was stirring the crowd. There was a loud gasp and then an explosion of whispers. You looked around, trying to understand what was happening. Then, when he tucked The Cloth into his breast pocket, keeping you for himself, you saw it. 
Long, red lines began to stain his skin like lightning. All of his veins tattooed themselves across his neck, and although his armor was covering his shoulders, you knew that the marks would be there as well. 
Alpha Price had imprinted for you. 
Then, he silenced the crowd by raising his right hand, palm up, staring at you the entire time. 
You were whisked away, surrounded by your Watchers, hearing Alpha Roan’s voice behind you, sounding like protest, but you couldn’t make out the words. Compared to the initial silence, the area erupted in a shattering din, clans shouting and yelling over each other, the drama from the ritual dividing the people. 
You thought you would be taken back to your tent, but you were brought to a large lake about five hundred yards from the theater. It was quiet again. No one was allowed to follow you here, it seemed. 
Watcher Trinity tried to explain in a rushed whisper, helping you climb into a boat and rowing you out to the middle of the lake,
“There is a dispute for your claiming. Alpha Roan will negotiate new terms, and Clan 141 must decide who will be your Alpha. It will be alright, Omega. It’ll be alright.”
She sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than you.
“What now?”
“Because there is not just one Alpha who has claimed you, they will undergo a ritual called The Trial. It is a fight; a test of will. Whichever Alpha can win will be granted the right to appeal to you first. If you reject him, then you will be given a chance to hear the appeal from the second.”
“So, it will be up to me, then?”
“Yes. Alpha Price has put the choice in your hands. Very odd, and not in our custom, but we must honor his wishes. You will wait here for the winner.”
You looked around. You were now in the middle of the lake, and there was a platform lingering just below the water. It was a wide stone block, about three meters wide in each direction. Watcher Trinity helped you out of the boat and you stepped tentatively onto the platform. 
“Will you wait with me?” You asked, feeling the uncertainty and fear finally get the better of you. 
“No, my Omega. I cannot. These waters are forbidden to Betas. Only Alphas and Omegas can touch it. Take this. It is your flare. If you are in trouble, if he tries to get to you, fire it high into the sky and we will rescue you. You can do this. I know you are strong. Wait patiently for your Alpha,” she paused, grabbing your hand, “I realize you are doing this for us, but please, follow your heart.”
“I will, Watcher.” 
So, you waited. You meditated, standing in an inch of cool lake water as you tried to commune with the land around you. And you waited some more. Hours passed until, finally, you saw torches. Your Watchers lined one side of the lake, and they greeted the newcomers. Then, you saw him. Alpha Price was being stripped down by your Watchers. They took his weapons from him, and then his clothes, making him naked on the shoreline. He craned his neck, trying to look for you in the lake, but it was dark and you were dressed in black. 
You could see him just fine, though. His huge body was covered in short, curly hair, dense and dark against his skin. His muscles bulged and popped as he peeled away his layers of clothing. They left his undergarments on, little more than a linen loincloth. Then, you saw your Watchers attach a huge, metal collar around his neck. They clamped it together with a padlock in the back, and a huge chain was attached at the latch. 
They bound his hands, chaining them together, and then loaded him into the boat. They rowed toward you with his back facing the platform, and as he got closer, you saw his imprint markings, red and raised like jagged scars across his neck and shoulders. Your scent had marked him permanently. The welts would go down, and the red would fade, but it would always be there, evidence of his imprinting. 
The boat reached you, and he climbed out of it, sitting on the opposite side of the platform from you, just far enough to be out of range for your scent. 
His eyes found yours again, staring at you through your veil, finding your gaze with a natural ease. He held a small box in his hands, and you thought you saw the phantom of a smile across his lips as you looked over his face. 
The boat rowed to shore, dragging the long chain all the way back, and you were alone with him. It was quiet for a long while. You were just staring at each other, studying each other, trapped in a silent battle. 
You looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time his cut, bloody knuckles, and he saw the worry cross over your eyes.
“They’re fine,” he said quietly, “My men. If that’s what you were wondering.”
“But, you triumphed over them, clearly,” you replied, not trusting your own voice. 
He chuckled a bit, sighing, 
“I did.”
“You fought for me, then.”
The laughing stopped, and he lifted his chin, proudly, 
“I did.”
“And you are here for my acceptance.”
He didn’t respond to your cue, but instead, he took the box in his hands and slid it across the platform, skittering it along the surface of the water, making little splashes as it landed in front of you. 
You reached for it, opening it up to reveal a shining key. 
“Throw it in the lake,” he commanded you, using his Alpha’s voice to bend your will. 
It shocked you, and you were so close to obeying, but you stopped, cutting your eyes at him,
“What is this?”
“Throw. It. Omega.”
His voice seared through your blood, calling to you with old magic. You fought hard to keep your mind under your own control, 
“Stop! Stop it. Tell me what this is, Alpha.”
“It unlocks my collar. Otherwise, if I make so much as a shift in your direction that they don’t like,” his head turned to look back toward your watchers, “They will pull me into the lake, and I will drown.”
“And if I unlock it…”
“Then, you will be my mate,” his tone turned vitriolic then, “And you will die.”
You let his words sink in, your curiosity overcoming your fear,
“You believe your knot cannot be taken.”
He spat back, 
“My belief is not –”
“But, it’s not up to you,” you interrupted him, “Is it?”
The shock that washed over his bright eyes filled you with a sort of sick satisfaction. You should be afraid of him, but your roles were reversed out here on this rock, and you were holding him under your command. 
“Toss that key, girl. MacTavish fought hard for you. He’ll care for you. He’s a good man.”
“Are you a good man?”
“No,” he growled, his eyes dropping to the water, examining the chains around his own hands, inspecting them for the bloodstains that he obviously thought should be there. 
“I am here for my people, Alpha Price. I am not looking for a husband. I am a resource to be traded for other resources. My clan needs The Exchange. Our people are starving, and I –”
“I would not let them starve,” Price’s eyes shot back up, indignant that you would suggest that he would leave you and your clan without food or water. 
You let yourself smile slightly, teasing him, 
“Spoken like a good man.”
He twisted his lips over his teeth, but he stayed quiet. You continued to torment him, 
“Why did you raise your hand for me?”
He sighed, sitting forward, sloping his shoulders toward you,
“I couldn’t help it. My Alpha…He…” He paused, searching for the words, “I could smell you through the box. I knew you from the moment I saw you walk through the arena. And when my men all raised their hands for you, I knew you would be accepted as our Clan Omega. You are mine in every way that matters. And I cannot have you.”
His voice was full of bitterness. You wanted to smell him. What were the chances that he was your true mate? One-sided imprinting was rare, but true mates were one in a million. 
You stood, surprising him, and he jolted back, sitting up right. The chain around his wrists clattering. You looked over at the shoreline. Your Watchers held the long chain around his neck, heavy and sagging into the black water, ready to yank it tight if he lunged for you, if he fell prey to his Alphic instinct to breed you. 
He watched you approach, seeing how the water rippled with every step you took, gazing upon the dripping silks that clung to your legs, devouring you with his eyes. You stopped in front of his crossed legs, Knowing that he could smell you now. Your pussy was shielded only with a few layers of silk, and you watched him flare his nose, sniffing you right in front of his face, blowing a slow exhale of air through his lips, making the organza billow between your legs. 
“Can I smell your scent, Alpha?” You whispered, your voice slicing through the silence of the still lake. 
His chains clattered as he twisted his head to look up at you, peeling his eyes away from your pretty pussy to meet your gaze. Then, he bent his head to one side, giving you his neck, showing you his scent gland, a sea of red stripes emanating from its center. 
You bent over him, closing the gap, steadying yourself by laying a gentle hand on his huge shoulder. Then, you took a long pause and breathed him in. His scent swirled through your body, wrecking your other senses. It was only him. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Your Alpha. Your mate. Your true mate. 
You felt the red marks of your imprint streak across your skin, and his eyes widened in shock as he saw them branch through your veins and across your gland just as his had done. 
The click of a lock made his eyes flash back to you, and with that movement, his heavy collar tumbled into the lake, the drag of the chain singing as it scraped the side of the platform. 
“What have you done, my Omega?” Price breathed. 
It was the second time you’d been asked that question. Your response was still the same:
“I am doing what needs to be done, Master. I am giving myself to you, my true mate.”
The boats were in the water the moment the collar slipped from his neck. The Watchers were on you in moments, and Price’s Beta soldiers were there to collect him. You watched as they rowed you two apart, taking you back to your camps to prepare for the ceremony. 
Your Watchers were in a rush. There were only a few hours until sunrise. Your wet robes were switched out for red ones, and a red veil adorned your head. Underneath, you were rubbed and painted and sprayed with oils, until finally, Watcher Trinity came forward with a bowl of salve. She had made it herself, you could tell. She cared for you so deeply. 
“I trust you, Omega. I know you know what you’re doing. But, please take this. It will help your muscles relax for him, and it will make it easier to bring on your natural defenses.”
She was being coy, avoiding using the word to refer to your slick, knowing that you had your own method of calling it forth using your special power. But, you took it from her anyway, and after you were left alone again to meditate, you used two fingers to massage it into your hole, feeling its effects begin to warm you, making your flesh supple and pliant. 
A hand curled around your tent flap, pulling it open. Instead of your Watcher, you saw one of Garrick’s Omegas. It was her, the one who had failed to take your Alpha’s knot.
She stepped inside,
“May I speak with you?”
You nodded, motioning for her to sit,
“Yes, but I’m afraid I already know what you are about to say.”
Her eyes widened, 
“If you know, then why have you accepted this? Alpha MacTavish was his second. He is not to your liking? His Omegas are kind and –”
“No, they were all to my liking. I am eager to join your pack in whichever way I can, but Alpha Price is my true mate.”
You showed her your skin from under the red silks, knowing she could not see them through the red of the veil. She gaped at them, 
“Your… true mate? He could… This could kill you, Omega. I don’t want to see you come to harm, and it would destroy him. I saw how he was after my accident. I nearly blamed myself for his deep sorrow.”
“I trust my training, Omega, and I am so grateful for your support, but he is my mate. What is meant to happen to me, will.” You stood with her, seeing your Watchers hovering just outside the tent, signaling them that you were ready to leave. 
“Then, I trust you as well. The others are so excited to meet you. I wish you an easy path, and I hope your ceremony is just as you want it to be. After this, you will be our Clan Omega, and I will serve you until the end of my days.”
She kissed your cheek through your veil and left you to be delivered back to the altar. 
For a long time, you had wondered if this final walk away from your pack would be a sad one. You expected every step to be filled with hesitation and fear. But, the only thing you felt was joy. Your mate awaited you at the end of this long path, and you were ready to submit to him. He was worthy of your strength, and he would help you deliver your people from danger. You would rule beside him, helping him use the 141 for good, eradicating the evil from your land. 
The sun’s pink wash was rising out of the horizon line just as you reached the theater. The crowd was silent again, and you saw the pallor and shock painted on all of their faces. They were expecting a funeral instead of a feast. They had no idea why anyone would be so desperate as to sacrifice their only Omega to this Alpha, especially when it was not necessary. But, they didn’t realize that you were no prisoner. You were no one’s puppet. You were in charge, here, and your Alpha would breed you as you commanded him to. 
Your Watchers led you to the altar, kissing your hands through the thin cloth as they passed you to take their seats near Clan Arlos, tears in their eyes and staining their cheeks, and finally, your clan Alpha approached you.
“Alpha Roan,” you greeted him. 
“Little Omega,” he smiled, kissing your hands just as your Watchers had done. He didn’t need to, but it was his way of showing everyone that he trusted your choice, “I hope you know what you are doing.”
“I do,” you said, smiling at him through your red silk veil. 
Then, Alpha Price’s men came through the center of the theater, each of them bending to kiss your hands. But, instead of the back of your knuckles, they turned them over to kiss your palms, a sign that they would accept what you had to give them. Alpha Riley was first, and he lifted his mask to show you his mouth and chin, his kiss warm and tender against your skin. Then, Alpha Garrick knelt down, placing multiple kisses along your fingers and wrists, displaying his loyalty and respect. Finally, Alpha MacTavish knelt before you, daring to whisper to you as he kissed your palms, 
“Brave lass.”
You used your thumb to pet his lip, acknowledging his trust in you. 
Then, it was time for the Omegas to join you. They approached as a unit, not individually as their Alphas had done, and they helped you lay on the altar, guiding your body back onto the marble platform. They pulled at your silks, allowing the crowd to see your naked body, painted in fine brushes of intricate gold designs, of prayers and songs of your people, their symbols adorning you from neck to toe. Finally, they began to kiss you, licking and sucking at your mouth like lovers, showing their devotion to you as their clan Omega. 
As they kissed you, your skin began to flush hot, your body somehow knowing what was about to happen to you. The Omegas felt your fire against their lips, and they pulled your legs apart, each of them bending to lick and suck at your flower’s drooling petals, slurping and sucking up your creamy nectar. They were at your breasts, your neck, your belly, your hands and feet. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, shaking and trembling under their affection, yet moved by their deep loyalty. You knew you would be safe with them. They would care for you just as your clan had done. 
Then, you heard the familiar slam of a longstaff. Your Alpha had arrived. 
According to the ceremony, you were meant to be still and silent as a showing of your acceptance. If you moved or cried out in any way, you risked a clan war, as taking a mate without their consent was a dark offense. You had to prove to your people that you were here of your own free will, and even though you were feeling the static cling of apprehension beginning to worm its way into your chest, you tried to breathe through it, trusting your Alpha to lead you through this moment with his protective power. 
Your legs were lowered to the stirrup-style rests that were carved just below the stone table, keeping your knees wide apart, allowing your pussy to drip openly, glistening with the beginnings of your slick. You calmed yourself as they left you alone, each of them kissing you softly once more to show their reverence. 
Then, you heard the clatter of fallen armor. He was undressing, removing his warlord’s mantle and coming to you fully bare. You spotted him between the vee of your legs as he approached the dais, his imprint marks flushed a deep wine red, his body shining with the traditional oils, meant to give him another layer of aphrodisiacs, promoting his production of his seed, keeping his cock tall and hard. 
But, you knew that your imprint on his gland would do more than all of their drugs combined. He would kill every last person in this arena to get to you at this point, and although you had consented to this joining, you were no longer controlling it. He would take you, no matter what. 
Then, when he got close enough to your platform, you saw it. It was standing proudly against his thick, furry belly, dripping with precome and lubricants, glittering in the rising sun. His cock was immense. You had not practiced on one so large. And his knot was larger than your two fists pressed together. He was intact, and his foreskin was slipping down his flushed head, unable to contain the swelling glans. Your body threatened to quiver from your suspense, and you tried to move your mind into your meditative trance. 
As he approached, he did not go straight for his position between your legs. Instead, he walked around the front of the marble platform and bent to look you in your eyes, leaning his head down for a deep, heady kiss. He fed you his tongue and suckled on yours, letting it writhe inside of his mouth, rubbing against his own probing muscle.
He pulled away to gaze upon you, his eyes soft and full of joy. You smiled up at him, watching as he enjoyed the rest of your body, caressing your breasts, admiring your paintings. 
“Did my clan show you their loyalty, my Omega?”
“Yes, Master,” you answered quietly. 
“Are you prepared for me to show you mine?”
“Yes, Master. I am,” you replied, giving him a brave face despite the absolute weapon that was slobbering for you against his belly. You wanted to taste it, but now was not the time. 
He returned to the base of your platform, kneeling in front of your wet hole, bending to place his mouth against you. He began to suck, pulling your soft lips into his mouth like he was starving, lapping up the beginnings of your body’s fluids, moaning from the taste and the smell of your scent. You wanted to moan, you wanted to pin his head to your trembling quim, but you didn’t dare move a muscle or make a single sound. Breathing in, breathing out, letting the sparks of an orgasm rush through you, bringing tears to your eyes from holding back so much pleasure. 
Your Watcher’s salve was almost too effective. It had made you pliant, but now you were beyond sensitive, able to feel the pound of your own heartbeat through your hole, desperate for something to press inside of you. You needed his cock. 
But, he did not give it to you. He just sucked and sucked and sucked, and his fingers began to rub along the entrance of your slippery hole, pressing down on your pussy’s walls, testing their strength. You fluttered for him, just like your Watchers had taught you, and you felt him stumble in his movements, shocked by your power. 
He stood between your legs, his face and beard soaking from his meal, letting you drip off of his chin like a messy hound drinking from a river. Then, to test your resolve, he teased you with a little bit of meanness, stepping forward to let his cock lay along your body, measuring himself on the outside of you. He reached far beyond your navel, his lubed phallus warm and heavy, his knot resting in the softness of your folds, and you could feel him throbbing for you. 
You didn’t dare move, but you wanted to cradle his cock in your hands, to rub up and down his length, to feel the smoothness of his head and the firmness of his knot. But, you stayed stock still, showing the crowd that you would not waver. There was some soft chittering from the clans, the shock at his size obviously enough to break onlookers out of their respectful quiet. 
Then, he began notching his head at the entrance of your pussy, letting the tip slide up and down your tight ring of muscles that guarded your entrance.      
“Last chance, Omega. Call it off. Cry out, and my own men will cut me down,” he bade you under his breath, having a hard time holding his words and sentences together, his voice shaking in his throat. 
You looked up at him with closed lips, making a point to give him a soft smile as a response. 
No deal. 
You pulsed your muscles again, making your pussy lap up his sloppy precome like a little mouth, watching as he was torn apart by your action, no matter how minor. 
So, without any other choice, he fed himself into you. It was a fearsome experience, at first. You weren’t sure if you could actually handle him. But, you breathed through the stress, relaxing your body, finding that deep, secret place inside of you, making your slick drop down for him, flooding your hole to welcome him in. 
The confusion that painted his face was so satisfying. He couldn’t understand the sheer warmth and comfort he was experiencing. His cock was being sucked into you, deeper and deeper, and finally, you felt his knot. 
He pulled all the way out of you, and sheathed himself all the way back in, always reaching to that one spot, just above his bulbous anchor, and then starting his process over again. Each time his cock fucked its way through your body, humping himself into you, creamy, milking noises filled the quiet, open-air arena. The whole ensemble could hear him invading your hole, the lurid slap of skin on skin loud and unashamed. 
His phallus was large enough to rub against your most sensitive spot over and over, bullying it into producing more and more slick, making you come just by dragging his heavy cockhead over it, in and out, in and out, pounding into you with almost reckless need. 
You came for him, and your body began to shiver from the overwhelming bliss, but you held your voice. You tried to still yourself, not wanting to show weakness, but there was nothing you could do. You were shattered by his cock, coming over and over again. It was an endless wave. You had no idea where one started and the other stopped. 
You could taste blood in your mouth from biting the inside of your cheek. Still, you pushed through it, testing yourself with every push and pull of your body. 
His huge hands pawed at your hips and breasts, squeezing you, watching your plump flesh jiggle with every cruel strike of his hips. Your Alpha took your own slick and began to rub it all over your skin, swirling it around your nipples, letting it smear across your belly from his palm. Then, he painted himself, taking it from your well-fucked hole and rubbing it across his scent gland, down his chest, matting his hair with your wetness. 
Then, you felt his precome begin to pump out of him. You knew it had begun because this was when your slick was meant to wash through you, but there was no space for anything else. So, it began to pour out of you and over his knot. Every time he pushed it against your body, it threatened to slip into your hole, and you were filled with a twisted excitement, ready for it to be stuck inside of you, to churn and grind against your insides, to trap you in a blinding, rageful bliss. You nearly cried out from the heavy want you felt in your chest. 
“You ready for my knot, pretty Omega?” He growled, no longer speaking to you softly. There was no gentleness left within him. 
He shoved you back across the dais, climbing up onto it with you, breaking every protocol by doing so, but knowing there wasn’t a single other Alpha in attendance who would do anything about it unless you asked them to. But, he trusted you, lifting himself above you, bringing his face to your face, kissing you and beginning to lick your scent gland, making you see stars. 
Would he really bite you right here in front of all these people while you were about to take his knot? It was beyond intimate. Not only was it private, but it was dangerous. It was when an Alpha was most vulnerable. The audacity of this man shook you to your core. 
“Bite me, Omega. Please take me. Claim me as yours, sweetheart. Show them that you are mine. My Omega.”
His voice was ragged and deep, a hoarse purr of commands, all of which you were happy to obey. You began to lick his neck, putting your mouth over his gland as you began to suck at the round swell of flesh. Then, just as you canted your hips, feeling his knot slip inside of you, shoving and burying itself within the tight sheath of your pussy, you used your muscles to yank him the rest of the way in, and you bit down on his neck, hard, your body seizing from a hard, ruthless orgasm. . 
You heard the crack of his gland, and you felt him sink his fangs into yours, the pain and the pleasure mixing within you like a drug, his cock firing rope after rope of searing hot come into your belly, flooding your womb with his spend. He pulled his mouth away and stared into your eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his face full of disbelief, 
“My love…”
You kissed him, taking his lip into yours, suckling on it, trying to guide him back down from his tantric high. He was struggling above you, stuck deep inside of you, unable to stop himself from dumping heavy loads of his come into your body, his cock pulsing and throbbing with each burst of his cream. 
He rested his head on your neck, returning his mouth to your gland, and every time he licked it, now, you felt your pussy twist around him, threatening to slam you with another orgasm. You licked him, too, hearing him cry out against your skin, feeling the mirror of your sensations, his heavy phallus jerking as you sucked on his broken gland. 
Finally, he was able to rock back and forth, letting his knot slip out of you before popping it back inside, fucking you with it just like he did with his cock. He twisted his hips forward, driving into you with all of his strength, and then he would pull himself back out, the swell of his knot increasing with each thrust until, on the last thrust, he was finally trapped, unable to remove himself from your core. 
Now, though, it was your turn. You began to use your muscles to push and pull him from the inside, fucking him like a sleeve of smooth, soaked warmth, jerking his shaft up and down with your insides.
“Oh, fuck…” He whispered, not expecting your skills to be so advanced, but you had trained hard for this moment. You weren’t about to let it go to waste. 
You moved him inside of you, letting his knot take the brunt of your efforts, squeezing it like a fruit, making sure all of his juice melted into your skin. You made him come like this again, using the salve that your Watcher had given to you as an advantage, knowing that the heightened sensitivity you felt was now being passed on to him. He filled you up, his knot plugging your hole, preventing any of his seed from leaking out, and your tummy was swollen from his load, round and full for everyone to see. 
He sat up on his heels, looking down at you with his eyes full of adoration and wonder, watching your strong abdominals clench and twist as you used them to help you work inside of yourself, edging him over and over before pulling him down into the depths of another hard come with you. 
His hands went to the bulge of fluid in your belly, most of it flooding into your womb, unable to escape anywhere else. Your Alpha caressed your skin, marveling at the fullness. Then, he looked down at your stretched hole, playing with your clitorus that had been forced out from under its hood due to the sheer size of his knot, all of your skin bowing around it and pulled tight. 
Your Alpha forced you to come like this, milking him hard, trying not to make a sound but giving away your mind-bending pleasure with shaking, whimpering breaths. 
“That’s a good Omega. So full of my come.”
You smiled up at him, enjoying the full feeling of his come inside of you. But, you were losing your strength, and he could feel it. Alpha Price leaned over you again, grinding himself down into you and helping you reach one last orgasm, pulling himself along with you, squirting the last of his spend into your pussy. Then, he carefully twisted his cock out of you, watching the gush of his come coat the marble platform, dripping out of you and down the sides of the dais. 
You were so empty and weak, but you were being lifted, cradled in his arms, and the whole arena burst into revelrous applause. The feast had begun, but not for you. You would be in your Alpha’s tent, and there you would remain until he bred you, making sure that you were laden with his cub, sharing food and drink with him in bed while you were stuck on his knot, traditionally until sunset when you would be presented to the clans as the new Apex Omega, destined to rule beside him forever. 
“Are you done being quiet, my Omega?”
“Yes, Master,” you whispered, nestling into his broad chest. 
“Good,” he smiled, “I need to hear you scream for me.”
“And I need my Alpha to breed me. I need your knot again, Master. Don’t pull it out.”
“I’m at your command, my love,” he smiled, planting a kiss on your temple, smearing his own salve across your swollen flesh, working his cock until he was hard again. 
When you felt his knot for the second time, you knew you had made the right choice. Your people were safe, and so were you. You weren’t sure if it was the high of your claiming or the truth that you felt in your heart, but you were eager to be dripping with his come every night. Trapped underneath your Alpha was right where you belonged, knotted and full of his love. 
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Seriously, send help. I was too ashamed to even reread it for typos. I'm so sorry.
904 notes · View notes
goteique · 2 months
Text
IS WHAT LOVE IS ? | GEN NARUMI.
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+cw.— omegaverse au ( alpha!male x beta!reader ) + roommates au + college / university au, gen narumi x f!reader, fast burn ( we don't appreciate it enough ), world building, angst & hurt, smut, mentions of alcohol, bullying, blood and physical injuries.
+syn.— When college got busy with upcoming internships, classes became hectic, sleep schedule got fucked up and exam stress piled on: gen narumi sought blissful comfort in your presence. However, the same can not be said about you.
+wc. —5k ( dw I think I'll often talk about this in my main.) 
+playlist. — affection by between friends \ no love in L.A by dutch melrose \ fire by jvke \ is this what love is by wasia project.
+notes. — one of my favourite things to get things done by challenging myself so please be kind to me if you feel my writing is little off or not fitting my general pattern. thank you, enjoy reading. | redirect to blog navigation.
+tags. — into the omegaverse collab by @goxjo + other tags : @sukirichi @to-eden @stunie @interstellar-inn
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[ one. ]
"We should fuck,"  Narumi announces walking into the dorm room half-clad in the towel and boxers freshly showered, clusters of hair falling onto his face, wet and aromatic opening the door with a bang. Still, it failed to startle you like it generally does. His arm is still holding the door open as you try immersing yourself more into the university website that is spread open on your laptop attracting a fair amount of attention. A barely visible deft amongst his eyebrows arises as his presence remains unbeknownst to you even after he clears his throat. Are beta's senses that dull? 
You take the bluetooth earphones off your ears. "Did you say something?" you pose the question as if you are aware of his presence just now. 
Letting his fingers skim through his wet hair he grumbles, "We should fuck," with pinnable irritation in his voice not that you would know why he is being cranky. 
It is your turn to be silent. Your eyes switch over to the calendar hanging on the wall right beside him. It is still two weeks for Gen before he starts to show the bare minimum signs of an approaching rut. Besides, he has never been this ridiculous. "Did the summer heat finally take your sanity?" you exclaim with a scoff returning the annoyance right back at him but respectable enough to look at him as you spoke. Your phone chimes followed by a vibration and Narumi is forced to cover one of his ears with the arm that has been holding the door all the while; his other ear suffers the damage.
"How many times did I tell you to tone it down a few notches?" He gets inside finally closing the door. All you could spare for response is nothing but a glance of unease. Who is he to tell you what to do and what not? You put your notebooks and a few things in your bag as his whistle finally blows off. "It's been two years already. when are you going to finally give in to my alpha charms, huh? I know that you are no strangers to the modern ideas of mating. I mean you are quite active so why don't we just celebrate the last year of graduation being fuck buddies rather than just roommates?"  You roll your eyes when you are still facing his back to him. You turn around to tuck your hair behind your ears making the bluetooth earphones visible. Holding up your fisted right wrist in his direction you tap on the watch two times and fist out your palm with all five fingers and Narumi just squits his eyes. Before he could make full sense of what you are conveying, you are already out of the door and Narumi knows better than anyone that you love listening to music at high volumes without interruption. Maybe you do so because you are a beta or you are sad or annoyed about something. It couldn't be him, could it? Sometimes when the surroundings get too quiet and you are listening to music he can hear what song it is. 
Not that he is a fan of your music taste but he has rather expressed in preposterous ways to exhibit his distaste for your tastes, likes, and dislikes, sometimes even unasked for one and you were fine with it. You were fine with his obnoxious, rude, and rough behavior. Even in his class, he has a hard time getting along with his batchmates. Every once in a while he would come up with bloody knuckles or a bleeding nose, scratches in his face sometimes and you would have no other choice but to tend to his wounds. You never bothered to ask how he got hurt or why he hurt others and he never decided to divulge. Being at the top of the university has prevented him from getting expelled. The professors are fed up with him but are willing to put up with him only because he is sincere in his studies. And, he is surprisingly good at it given his nature. Sharing a room for almost more than two years with an alpha like Gen Narumi is not a cakewalk, especially for a beta like you. Even before moving into the dorm room, you knew that you would either be paired with an omega or an alpha. You knew what you were getting into and with the advancement of medicinal chemistry cohabitation with other species of your kind has become easier than before yet the primal urges never really fade, do they? After all, what is more dangerous than an unmated alpha? 
You check the time. You are so early for someone who has an interview for the first time. You sit with the other candidates without a slice of panic in your body. Thanks to Gen for nuking your attention into something that you would never expect in nightmares or another universe. Like what the fuck was that? What kind of question was that? Was that even a question? As for a fact, an alpha's desire is too innate to ignore. And with the amount of patience stored in Gen Narumi's body if anything was possible it would have happened in the first few months of college year. Wait a minute! is he finally asking you out after trying to hide it for almost two years? If yes, that would certainly explain why one time he gave you cologne on your birthday which would complement his scent too. Not only that, it would surely explain how he snuggles to you during movie nights, or on liquid nights he would almost spoon you when his ruts were approaching he was too broke to buy video games. But at the same time, you can not completely claim those actions as an act of pursuit of seeking a potential mate in you since it was just an extremely rare occurrence. 
You remember the time when both of you just came from an exam semester party being too drunk, high, and happy to change or freshen up. Both of you just passed out on the nearest bed to the door of the room and you swear you felt a graze of something sharp upon the nook of your neck. But you swiped that thought at the back of your mind thinking it as a dream or some bad alcoholic effect. That night you woke up with Narumi in your bed sleeping like a log, a loud log to be specific. You have always given him space during his ruts since it works better that way; rather than arguing to come to a truce. That's how you have always been. That's how betas had to be. You would always find him buried under a futon with bloodshot with a game controller in his hand, and a lot of junk food packets all around the room yet you chose to give him space because that is how you avoid alphas like him; the more you indulge with him, the greater the chances to be under his target radar. 
"Y/N L/N is next. Be prepared." the mic announces breaking the pensive silence and your reverie of thoughts for a mere blinking moment.
On the first day when you moved in you clearly stated that you would file a complaint if he ever tried to scent you, mark you during his ruts. He just joked saying, "So, it's okay when I'm not in a rut?" but you would not budge or answer him so he mentioned in a sing-songy tone, "Oh don't worry. Betas are hard to influence. You should know that darling.  Plus, you are not exactly my type." with a smug so loud on his face that you wished you could throw something at his face but engaging with him would give him a crack to widen the gulf, explore and test waters. . .you know better than that. But since unlike other alphas, he listened to it, he abided by it, he sustained it—- well tried to or he was just poking the bear for fun. He often does that when he is out of video games. 
That is how you have always maintained a boundary between him and you. 
Gen Narumi finds it impenetrable. You think all the things he does, he does it out of respect which is not exactly true. There is respect but just a pinch. Sharing a room with a beta wouldn't be too bad. That's what he thought when he came to know about you. He did mention in his admission form that he would not like an omega as his roommate but he did not expect it to be beta. It could have been an alpha or a zeta, someone either loud or too mute. Mediocrity has always been a foreign concept to him. And what's up with "do not scent me or mark me." as if he would be interested in such things. He is not like other alphas. Some alphas spend their ruts giving in to their urges while some take suppressants. Gen Narumi belongs to neither of them. He spends his ruts eating junk and playing video games. works both ways actually. It has always been like that since he was expressed as alpha in society. What would he do to a beta? or that's what he thought. 
This morning when he said, well, suggested that you and him should fuck he was possessed perhaps. Why on earth would he say that? It does not make any sense because never in two years he has thought or even looked at you with a splotch of romance. Most of the alphas in his batch have already found a mate or maybe were forced to. He might be the only unmated alpha in this university which is why lesser potential omegas approach him. An unmated alpha is always seen under the lens of threat. And, if they came to know how he spends his ruts, they would not even acknowledge him as an alpha. At the start of the college year, he would often end up bullied by other alphas because of that. The last thing he wants to do is to use his pheromones on others. Why would he waste it on others? He doesn't exactly know for what or whom he is saving it. He would come to the room late whenever he got into a fight. One time he was so tired of all the bullying that he did not even try to defend himself or scare them away. By the time he reached the dorm room,  he was too hurt to breathe properly. That night Gen Narumi came to know that even a beta can calm an alpha, and nurse them into good health if needed. He was too hurt to protest or say anything, all he could do was to imbibe your scent while you were taking care of him. Even betas have a smell. Did you do that on purpose? release pheromonic signals to calm him? Would it be so hard to believe if he were to say that most alphas took their roommates as mates? He can certainly try, at the very least he will get a good laugh out of your reaction. If you did that on purpose he has a chance to show other alphas that he is actually an alpha not that he cares what they say but since you showed your interest in him in a puzzled way he would certainly try to match your level. wouldn't this be a win-win situation if he fucked you? For you, for him, and others as well; it certainly would. That's right. This morning you did not pay enough attention to him so he will say it again just so he can reject you. That's what an exceptional alpha would do. He is exceptionally good at gaming and studies though so he can not see why he should let this opportunity slip through his hands like sand.
You open the door with the help of keys while holding your bag in one hand and your cell phone in the other. Gen does not leave his seat to hold the door rather graces you a glance and goes back to whatever he is doing. 
“Yeah. I’ll definitely call you back, Hoshina-san.” you disconnect the call and Gen’s eyes are on you. He does not look away so you took it as a cue to explain something, anything. He just needs some info to be fed so that he does not start again. “Hoshina Soshiro is gonna be my supervisor if I get the job. The interview wasn’t so bad but I don’t wanna get my hopes up. He is one of the best and doing an internship under his guidance would be a great start. ”
“Stay away from that guy,” Gen grumbles looking back at his desk. It is unusually neat today. Not to mention his futon bed is folded and kept on his bed in a side enough that one can sleep peacefully without any problem. You would have said something to him if your attention did not keep faltering . . .Gen rolls his revolving chair in your direction, one of his legs is touching the wheels of the chair while the other is stretched creating a huge gap. His left-hand travels under his t-shirt and it hooks on his right shoulder.  "we should fuck," he declares, inept and inert.
"oh god! Not again" you let out a groan and sit on the bed near to you. Your head is in hands not because of what he said or what he did, not even because your patience is thinning with each tick of the clock enough to not to put up with this anymore but because of what is about to come out of his mouth the next.
"So, you heard me the first time ?" he barks while leaving his chair. You just wave your hand nonchalantly in a gesture to dismiss him but he locks his hands in his chest taking a stern stance in front of you.
You tilt up your head looking him in the eye, "You know Gen we shouldn't do this," your elbows rest on your thighs as you start to scratch your index finger with the other.
"don't you mean can't? you can't do this?" Is he serious? Isn’t he joking? Oh God. Why isn’t he joking like he generally does? Maybe a reaction would keep him quiet but what kind? A yes? A no? Or a laugh?
"you know better than others that I can fuck, literally too sometimes." You exclaim hoping to judge if this is really serious or just some sort of prank. If the latter, then it's not funny. If the former, then you might have to consider moving out. You get up from his bed to grab towels and bathroom needs."Why do you ask?"
"I don't know. Maybe I need to prove to someone that I'm an alpha." Gen regrets saying that. Your hands have stopped as you look at him which rarely happens. You never do one thing at a time. Fuck! You’re still looking at him. Gen unlocks one of his hands and scratches his jaw. 
"well, you chose a very wrong person to fuck, to prove then. I despise alphas. I would be much happier if you weren't one," That’s a little harsh, even from you. 
"as if a beta like you could get me hard." You keep the shampoo and conditioner bottle on the desk with much greater force than needed. Here it comes. . .Oh okay.
"Well, have you been with Beta before?" Gen tries to dodge the bullet because this is not the direction of conversation he wants to go. "that's exactly my point-" 
"an omega?" you pause and take a few steps towards him "An alpha?"  
“Wha—t? What’re — you talking — about?” Gen blabbers. He does not step away as you come closer but he has the urge to do so.
"god. Please find someone else to lose your virginity." You turn around the moment you finish deciphering his goal. Gen starts to growl underneath everything that comes out of his mouth now. "me being an alpha won't affect you being a beta if we were to fuck. and I don't wanna hurt an omega or alpha—His patience is thinning out too. This really isn’t the way he wanted this to go.
"But you'd hurt me?"
"That's not what I meant,"
"Are you a virgin, Gen Narumi?"
"Yes—I mean no." He glitches and now he can not look at you.
"Which is it?"
". . ." 
"I'm too tired to think about it now," you express with an exasperated sigh walking towards the bathroom.
"Is that a yes?"
"maybe be,"
"forget it." His tone is too sharp, demanding for someone who was begging you to fuck.
"What?" You stop before entering the bathroom and turn your head to him. "forget it" He repeats. You tilt your head, "But you just said. . ." you are starting to understand what this is really about. He does not want to fuck you neither want to lose his virginity or whatever he is trying to protect. It is his alpha ego acting up. He wants you to say yes so that he can reject you so that it strokes his alpha-nature. That’s it.
Your face distorts in disdain in his dense thought process.
Gen Narumi squints his eyes and then blinks. When he opens his eyes you are in front of him. You push him onto the nearest bed, your bed, and sit on his lap, legs folded and creating a dip on the mattress under the pressure of it, thighs grazing his pelvis.
"what're you doing?" Gen gasps as you let your palms touch his chest. He is gonna explode. His heart is beating so fast. You can feel it. Oh My God. You didn’t think this through.
"Well, let's see if a beta can get you hard or not." 
You undress your top. You are not an omega. There is no stench. But your scent is so muted that he has to either influence you to emit some or get closer to inhale. The first option is a no-no because he would not like to anger you while you are on his lap. So, he has to get closer. Wait, closer than this? The smell from that night threatens his senses and memory. Before the realization fully hits his brain, his hand moves in your direction but you stop him. Did you do something wrong? Both hands are now aligned with his. You notice how your hands are different from his. His fingers are rough and raw. Yours are at least, well-maintained. You slowly interlace his fingers with yours folding his hands at the back. He could easily swat you away but he is not doing that. You lean into his face and he does not move away so you take that as a yes to lick from his collarbones up to his chin and immediately pull away. 
Narumi’s eyes are closed, head still tilted. Without giving him a moment of reprieve you let your lips graze on his, just barely, and pull away just a little, wet yours and thereby skimming at his bottom lip in the process. He opens his eyes, slowly looks at you, and then your lips. He is breathing like a tired puppy. He inclines, perhaps for a kiss but you sway your head giving him access to the side of your neck. As you graze your cheek against his jaw, his hands that are still at the back are held by you but it is slowly getting lithe as you feel his lips on your shoulders, hot tongue on your skin, and then a sharp graze of his fang from your shoulder up to the back of your ear. You tip your head down for a moment feeling goosebumps arise on your skin barely allowing him any moments of reprieve, only permitting a rare moment to breathe. You watch Narumi intently, unafraid to make things awkward, but Narumi is too distracted by his inner crisis to notice the amused stare mere centimeters from his face; studying him.
The tip of your tongue curls slowly but forcefully, tracing the plump of your bottom lip before sliding across Gen’s own and trailing the roof of his mouth. Eyes watching intently. Controlled. Curious. Amused. But then you abruptly pull away, lips shiny and wet. Before Narumi can ask why, your lips curl in on themselves, hiding a smug smile. It looks like you can’t catch your breath — like if you do, you will erupt into laughter. But a lopsided grin finally breaks free, tugging at your lips, when your eyes flash down to Narumi’s torso and back up.
Narumi freezes, heart, hammering in his ribs.
He’s hard.
“That was fast,” You smirk — and you stand. “I’m going to shower now.” you release your grip from his hands and get off his lap.  Gen watches you go into the bathroom and looks down at his boner biting his bottom lip; a click of his tongue follows as he checks the time. It is too late to go out now.
when you come out of the shower he is not there. A part of you worries if he got into a fight or something or maybe he is with his big hot alpha friends bragging about how he turned you down. You hit the bed with a thud, exhaustion creeping up from your toe to head, slowly. You do not give a damn what he says about you to other alphas or anyone in general. A beta will always have to watch out for themselves. They can not rely upon anyone, not even their kind because most betas are dumb enough to mingle with alphas and get turned into omega with or without consent.
Look what fate landed upon your mother when she took an alpha as her mate. You let out a wry chuckle. Sleep seems like a foreign land somewhere in heaven.
[ two. ]
It has been two days since Narumi left. Some of his batchmates have started to ask you during recess and breaks between classes. You answered them the same thing every time. “I don’t know.” or “he didn’t tell me before going.” or “How should I know? I’m not his mate who can sense it. Go find his mate.” or “he didn’t take his phone. So I don’t know.” truly it had not bothered you until Professor Shinomiya showed up at your doorstep asking for his whereabouts. You politely and patiently answered him the same very thing that you have been telling anyone who asked about Narumi. For a hated unmated alpha he sure is popular.
On the third day, late at night, there is a knock on your door. You go and open without hesitation. Narumi enters wearing the same clothing he wore the last time you saw him, only a little fade. His hair is wet and it is not raining outside so he comes back after going missing for two days, freshly showered. Bloodshot eyes, hair messed up, and mayhem all over his body.
“Welcome back.” You say but Gen does not say anything but goes straight to his study desk. He has a test coming up. Professor Shinimiya said that so you would contact him if you had the means. Your day-to-day notebook is on his study table, under the stack of his books, and guess what? That is exactly what you need the most right now because without it you would not be able to work on your applications and resumes. It has all the details and info you. The moment you touch the stack of books, Narumi’s hands are over yours.
“Are you—-? Where were you ?” You ask and For the first time in your life, you feel that something inside you went missing. When did that happen?
Gen stands up but you do not scoot away as he closes the gap between him and you. That’s what he likes about you. You were never afraid of him. You never considered him as a threat like others. Now, that he is closer you can smell several mixes of strong musky aromas. It is odd. You have been close to him before, but never once knew his scent. Is he in a rut?  Or did something bad happen? Did he. . .? Was he attacked by a gang of omegas or alphas? It makes your stomach turn thinking about whatever the probable reason for such a state as his. 
“Oh? You can tell?” There is a few inches gap between his face and yours. His palm is still intact on yours. The grip is lithe yet you don’t move your hand away.
“Gen? What? OH. God.” You had to swallow since tears threatened your eyes. “Are you okay?” A trembling whisper is all it takes for him to finally say something.
“Leave.”
“What?”
“Just leave for a few days. Go to some friend’s house or something,” He is still sitting, his eyes are on the open book now but his hand is still over yours.
“Why? What did I do?” You ask trying to move away your hand but in a swift moment, he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer as he stands up. 
“I’m — in a rut. So, I need you to stay away from me.”
“But — I’m a beta. You don’t need to worry.”
That is funny. It is because of you that he is such a shipwreck now. It was your pheromones that fucked him up. It was you who calmed him with scents when he came home injured. It was you who had no control over pheromones when drunk. It was you all along and despite that, he can not bring himself to hate you. Why can’t he hate you when he wants to? He even took a whole bunch of suprresants before coming back here. Gen laughs at your naive sentiment so blaring that you take a few steps back but he yanks you back to himself, a little too forceful than he intended to be resulting in you on top of him sprawled on the cold floor.
“Ohh? Why do you think I rub my fangs against your neck? You don’t think I do that for fun, do you?” You are still trying to get away from his grip but he is strong. He is stronger than you have known all these two years. “Are you too dumb to know that if I bite and knot you enough times you will turn into an o—
Thwack!
Narumi’s head is tilted away from yours. The exposed side of his cheek is red, his ears are thrumming and he has to force himself to keep his eyes open. Fuck. You’re strong. That was one hell of a slap.
“I know that. I’ve known that all my life. You don’t need to tell me that,” you yell looking down at his t-shirt. A cry is at the brink when you see a few drops of water fall on his top.  You try your best not to fall apart in front of him but it is just too much. Hearing such a thing what your mother went through and then slowly becoming a victim of it is nothing but a slow poison. You refuse to live the life your mother led. You refuse to owe your existence to an alpha. 
Narumi’s lips form a crescent but it is quickly clouded when your body starts to shake. You cover your face as you start to crumble like Rome in front of him. 
Folding his legs he sits up. His hands rest on the floor to support himself as he whispers, “Hey, stop crying.”  His voice is calm, pupils back to normal, not red anymore. “Please” He insists. “I’d hate to use my pheromones on you, especially now” 
You slowly look up wiping off your tears with your hand.
“Tell me y/n have I ever used my pheromones on you?” 
“No. Never.” Your hands fall on his chest. “But I still hate you. Why would you say something like that?” You stifle a sob and continue. “I know. I’ve never opened up to you—-” Your voice turns up, anger laced underneath. “But never did you. You think I don’t know—- that alphas bully you? Oh please! I know better than anyone what an alpha’s beating looks like.” You inhale a long breath, “I mean I have known that my entire life. I’ve seen my mother all my life— and I can’t see someone else getting hurt because of me . . . your voice breaks into a cry again and you inhale so as not to cry anymore but what good that would do now that he has seen the core of vulnerability in you that was tucked inside carefully with layer upon layer.
“Well,” Narumi starts to speak. “Save me then. Save me from this torment.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Narumi jocks down to meet your gaze. “Be my God and I will be your devotee.”
You try to get on your feet. Gen’s eyes follow you, each of your movements until you are standing on your own. He is still sitting on the floor in the same stance, laid back and amused.  He is sure you will say no. He has done this before. Back then you thought he was speaking out of delirium but that night when you saved his life he felt like he found a God to worship. He remembers saying, “I think I love you, Y/N L/N.” and you scoffed at him saying in no world an alpha like you would feel that about a beta like you when there is a bevy of omegas around him.
“Okay.” You murmur.
Gen’s mouth is parted. His eyes are big in surprise. “But just so you know, I’m hard to please,” you mumble with a sniff getting out of the room to make a call.
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sarahowritesostucky · 6 months
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, non-con, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", mating, breeding, hate to strong affection, yandere, kid fic
Summary: You thought you'd left behind the alpha who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.
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Masterlist
Daddy's Home (Series teaser)
Episode 1: A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like Her Mommy
Episode 2: Taking Back What's His
Episode 3: The Lap of Luxury
Episode 4: Motherhood Suits You
Episode 5: Should've Done this Years Ago
Epilogue: A Storybook Romance Once Again
Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" milashka = "cutie patootie" malen'kiy = "little one"  malyshka = "little girl" pchelka = "little bee"
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@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01, @ppbhquinn, @myfavbuckyfics, @liannafae, @sadsackssss, @timidquindim, @dakotali, @rayofdawnworld, @wintrsoldrluvr, @lindasweetie
770 notes · View notes
ldysmfrst · 5 months
Text
American Mate - (4)
First Case of Alpha Space
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Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader
Status: Ongoing series
Chapter number: 4 of unknown
Word count for Chapter: 4132
Work count for Story: 16,244
Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine
A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I have had to take time off work to accommodate many MANY doctor appointments. I started a Ko-fi if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.
Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, Alpha Space, and Cultural differences.
BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit
AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST
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Is it really that big of a deal that you got hurt? My god, you were 35 already. You have never lived a sheltered life. You have had your fair share of broken bones, twisted ankles, scrapes, and bruises. 
You are always going on adventures, riding horses, and climbing things you probably should not be climbing. The external scars you bear are associated with stories that are good conversation starters when you feel like showing them. 
Things would be difficult for a while because you are right-handed. You have a few days of sick time saved up that you can use to start with. Hopefully, this will help you gain some kind of compliance from your award left hand. 
Work, however, is going to be the hard part. Luckily, your work is typically done on electronics, meaning nothing has to be handwritten. Even if you tried to write left-handed, no one could read it. You would bet money doctors had better writing than you did. Dictation software to save the day!
Hearing Derek’s voice broke you out of your thoughts regarding your near future. Watching him act cautiously while interacting with the other hybrid was interesting. There is clearly a difference in how he acts with Yoongi than Evie. Giggling to yourself at the mention of being a mate with Derek gains the attention of both. 
“Oh, sorry. The thought of being a mate, much less to Derek, was amusing, I guess.” 
You missed the slight frown that briefly graced both men’s faces. Derek thought you were implying he wasn’t mate material, and Yoongi thought you believed you were not worthy of being a mate.                  
“Thanks Y/n. I let you know that I am a catch despite being a Beta. Besides, this isn’t about me right now. We need to get the leadership involved with what to do moving forward. Are you okay if we bring in the others?”
“Yes, please. I need to speak with Director Johnson, fill out an incident report… um or dictate an incident report, and then get to a doctor.” Attempting to stand up, you are blocked by the golden-yellow eyes that have not stopped watching your every move.
”Mr. Min, I need to get some things done and take care of my wrist.”
Yoongi’s eyes narrow, and a soft growl pours through the room, causing your eyes to widen. You look over your shoulder at Derek with a ‘what-the-F-did-I-do’ expression, only to be met with a smirk.
“Y/n, I don’t think you understand what is going on. You haven’t dealt with a situation like this before. You may love hybrids but you still have limited interactions with our culture and this dynamic.”
Walking backward toward the door, Derek continues, “With the state of mind that Mr. Min is in, it might be best if a packmate explains.”
Derek opens the break room door to face Hoseok, Teahyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook, who are all staring. “Oh, Hi there.”
Then, as if someone had turned the mute off, they all started talking simultaneously. 
“Is Yoongi-hyung dropped yet?”
“그 사람 괜찮아요?”
“Why does she still smell hurt?”
“Wait, wait, wait, please,” Derek puts his hands up, motioning to stop.
“I do not know Korean for one and for two Mr. Min has gone into full non-verbal Alpha Space and I  am not sure he will be coming out of it anytime soon. However, one of you should go in to handle the situation  and she needs to talk with Director Johnson.”
At the mention of the director, a low growl came from Taehyung, causing Derek to take a step back and lower his eyes in an automatic response to a displeased Alpha.
The scent of calming leather gently flows over the group at the door as Namjoon steps forward. His mind is still reeling a million miles a second with you being their mate and you being injured. To top it off, Yoongi is on a deep level of Alpha Space.
“Sorry about that. I can come in, but the director is busy at the moment dealing with the playmates, corporate office, and Manager Sejin,” Namjoon apologizes as he enters the room.
He follows Derek to where his packmate and Y/n are situated at a table. Taehyung and Jungkook follow quickly.
They both kneel respectfully behind Yoongi. Their Alphas recognize that Yoongi is currently in charge of you, and it would be unwise to display anything that could be considered a threat by approaching you too quickly.
They both need to be close to you, and their instincts to be with their injured mate drive their actions. Looking you over for injuries, their eyes resting on your wrist with furrowed brows and set jaws. 
Taehyung’s eyes change to crystal blue as his tail flickers almost in time with Yoongi’s as he slips into Alpha Space. 
“Namjoon-hyung, Y/n is hurt. She needs a hospital, I think,” Jungkook says, his ears standing straight up on his head, one-pointedly focused on you and the other twitching between his Prime Alpha and the door. 
“It is not that big of an issue, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, and Mr. Kim.” Looking up from the trio in front of you and addressing the Prime Alpha, “Sir, I have specific protocols to follow due to company procedure. I have to talk with the Director.” 
A growl from one of the men in front of you freezes your words, unsure of what you did to cause their reactions. Internally, you groan because it seems all you get from them are growls, as if you vex them more than you humanly possible. 
“Miss Y/n, we have already talked to Director Johnson,” Namjoon says with a look of distaste. 
“He has been informed that you are now under the care of Bangtan Pack following hybrid customs.  It would be wise to refrain from talking about him at the moment, he did not leave a good impression with the pack.”
Your brows scrunch in confusion, making the hybrids want to coo at your cute face. Clearing his throat (aka his mind), Namjoon continues, “We have more pressing matters to attend to besides paperwork.” 
“You are injured, and we have to get you to a doctor. Manager Sejin is currently contacting one of our personal physicians that we normally use while on tour to have you treated.”
“What? Why would I use your doctor? I can just go to the local clinic.” Your scent spikes almost like a heavy perfume with anxiety with the flashbacks of your nightmare. 
“Please, I have taken up much of your time, and caused enough problems as it is. I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a bother.”
At your words, you are surrounded by multiple growls and watched by now golden-yellow, crystal blue, and smokey gray eyes. Scooting back in the chair, you nervously ask, “Derek, what did I do?”
“Y/n, you really don’t get it do you? For as smart as you are, sometimes you can be oblivious.” He smiles and shakes his head, stepping back from the group and heading towards the door.
“Mr. Kim, as Prime Alpha, you might want to explain what is happening and what she should be expecting. Mind you, she has been fiercely independent for the last 15 years of her life.”
“I wish you the best with her. It won’t be easy, trust me, I know. Good Luck.” Derek bows slightly to Namjoon once he reaches the break room door.
Looking at you again, this time with a smile filled with adoration for his best friend and what he thinks your future may hold, Derek says, “Relax and have fun.” Then he turns and leaves the room. 
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As Derek leaves the room, he smiles at the remaining pack guarding the door. “Mr. Kim, Mr. Jung, and Mr.Park, I think your human does not understand what is happening.”
“Our human? So you know?” Seokjin questions with wide, cautious eyes.
Derek looks over his shoulder at the closed break room door. “At first, I thought it was just a typical Alpha reaction with him being the cause of Y/n getting injured, but his care and gentleness seemed to come from somewhere deeper. Add on the fact that your other two are fighting Alpha space. It would be hard to miss.”
“The other two?” someone asks.
Shaking his head, Derek looks back at the remaining three. “Yes, the younger Mr. Kim and Mr. Jeon’s Alphas surfaced just before I left. Your Prime Alpha is going to try to sort things out, but he may need some back up.”
“Meanwhile I am going to find our boss and see what needs to be done before you all run  away with her.” Derek leaves the pack to mull over the new information.
“Tae has never been one to control his Alpha well when one of us is hurt. I am not surprised if he slipped once near her. Kook always runs on instinct too, so it makes sense he slipped as well,” Seokjin contemplates. 
“Should we stay out here? Miss y/n’s pack member said it would be better to go in and help Namjoon? Three of us in Alpha space with an injured mate is not going to be easy,” Hoseok adds. 
Nibbling on his lower lip, Jimin thinks of ways to handle the situation. Even though he is one of the younger packmates, keeping the pack calm is his gift. 
He just doesn’t know how to handle you yet, especially since you don’t know what you mean to the pack.
“Good, at least three of you are here, and I assume the rest have made their way into the room with Miss Y/n,” Manager Sejin says while walking up to the group. 
“I have spoken with Big Hit, the Director at Playmate Service Incorporated, and Dr. Blackwell. Everyone is onboard and the doctor is ready to go.”
“Thank you,” Seokjin says, feeling relief that no one seems to be fighting this. “Namjoon is in with the rest of the pack and Miss Y/n, we should go in. From what Mr. Gulley says, Miss y/n does not seem to understand the situation to the fullest. I just hope that Namjoon can clear some things up.”
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“Relax and have fun? What does he mean by that?” You mumble as you glare at the now-closed door that one of your best friends just shut. 
He willingly left you with four Alpha male idols. 
Three of them are kneeling on the floor with non-human eyes, and the Prime Alpha, looking around the room like the way to explain what's happening is painted on the walls.
Taking a breath, you say, “Mr. Kim, Prime Alpha… Sir. Derek is right. I have no actual experience with Alphas. I can tell that there must be some kind of instinctual drive going on, and there are trigger words or actions.”
“I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have. What do I do to make it easier for your pack?”
At your words, the kneeling Alphas gave a multitude of pleasant chirps. You looked at the three of them, a little confused. They seemingly smiled and made almost the same sound at what you said.
Okay, so they can growl and chirp. Your curiosity spikes when you think of what other animal-like sounds they can make as hybrids.
Drawing your attention back to him, Namjoon finds the words to explain what is happening, “Miss Y/n, you have done so much to help the Bangtan Pack feel welcome today.”
With a gentle smile, he continues, “So please relax, you have not caused any trouble, and we highly doubt that you will.” 
Thinking to himself, ‘At least, not in the way you seem to be thinking.’
“Alpha’s run with a higher level of instinct than your Beta packmember. As an Alpha, Yoongi instinctually feels responsible for your injury. In order to calm that instinct, a few things will most likely need to happen.” 
Watching as you seem to sit up with interest, he continues, “First things first, he and his Alpha need to get at least your injury treated.”
“He has to be the one to take me to get it treated? I can’t have him go with me to the clinic! There are fans and sasaengs and the media! What about your schedule? You always hear about the tight schedules Idols have and you have already spent all afternoon here over this.”
You start panicking about the hordes of people you hear about following the band around. God, the amount of bad publicity that would come from catching you and THE Suga of BTS at a clinic. You can’t imagine what nonsense they would come up with?
Your scent goes into an even heavier version; it takes on an almost alcoholic aspect. The kneeling Alphas instinctually send out calming pheromones while moving closer. 
Yoongi’s tail, still wrapped around your ankle, tightens while he gently rubs the back of your injured hand, which he is cradling protectively. 
Taehyung starts to purr softly, hoping that the sound will comfort you. 
Jungkook, on instinct alone, scoots up to your left side, nudges his head under your left hand, and rests on your leg.
The feeling of Jungkook’s head on your leg snaps you out of your thoughts and brings you back into the room. You hold still as you start to recognize similar comforting behaviors the Alphas are doing with those that Evie always does, allowing you to take a deep breath.
“Sorry. I was raised to take care of myself and not impose on others.”
“Miss Y/n, you are not imposing. Again, Yoogni ran into you while rushing out of the room, and it's his responsibility to make amends. Actually, as a bonded pack, it is our responsibility, too.”
“The pack? Like all of you? Is this why they are all like this, with their eyes and stuff?” 
Absent-mindedly, you run your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, softly scratching his scalp, soothing not only yourself but also the youngest Alpha. 
A soft chuckle escapes Namjoons as he watches your instinctual interactions with the youngest mate. “Yes, that is the best way to explain the eyes and stuff, as you put it.”
“Jungkook and Taehyung will find it easier to leave their Alpha Space since they are not the ones responsible for the injury but trying to be supportive to both of you.” 
Hearing a knock on the door, he calls, “Who is it?”
“Namjoon-ssi, it's Manager Sejin. I have some updates and a few questions. Can I enter?” The door opens slightly to reveal it’s him. 
At Namjoon's nod, he enters. The door remains open as the scents in the room are constricting in their density. He is followed by the rest of the pack, who take up guarding now from inside.
“Did you contact everyone?”
“Big Hit and the Corporate Director are on the same page and will follow the hybrid protocol, but details must be discussed once Miss Y/n has met with the doctor,” Manager Sejin reports to the Prime Alpha.
Moving to look at you, he continues, “I contacted Dr. Blackwell, thinking you may be more comfortable with a female doctor.” 
Glancing at the boys surrounding you closely, his scent changes with curiosity. He raises an eyebrow, looking at Namjoon. With a subtle nod, he confirms that something more is happening but does not move to explain.
Looking back at you, he gently smiles, “With the situation at hand, it may be best to limit other males around you until everyone is out of Alpha space. They tend to get territorial. Dr. Blackwell is on standby, ready to assess and treat you once we know where you will be.”
“Why wouldn’t she just come here, or I go to her?”
“Miss Y/n, Dr. Blackwell is a traveling physician. She doesn’t have a permanent office to use but she is well respected in both the human and hybrid communities.”
“Oh, I see. Well, umm…” you look at Namjoon and ask, “What option would be best for your pack?”
Namjoon’s chest puffs slightly at your show of respect to him as the Pack Prime Alpha despite the situation and your pain level. “Not to make you uncomfortable, Miss Y/n, but I think meeting Dr. Blackwell at our AirBnB would be best.”
You take a moment to think, your hand pulsing with pain. They cannot all fit in your flat; it's a mess after you tore through your closet to find the right clothes for today.
They don’t seem to like being here. Instinctually, even Derek and Evie prefer being in their dens when one of the three of you is hurt or sick. 
“Okay. If it is best for the pack, then I will go with you to the AirBnB and see Dr. Blackwell.” 
It’s almost as if a weight is lifted out of the room, allowing the pack to take a breath. 
“Yoon, Kook, and Tae. Can you give Miss Y/n some room? We have to take her to the pack house to see a doctor,” Namjoon says with a firm voice, gaining smiles from the men kneeling on the floor. 
Jungkook stands and curls into the Prime Alpha, his eyes returning to their natural color.
Taehyung rocks back on his heels but remains near. His body is more relaxed and his eyes are still crystal blue, shifting between Yoongi and you in wait.
After watching the two younger Alphas move around, your attention turns to the Jaguar kneeling with expectant but questioning eyes. 
 “Mr. Min, if I promise that you can stay with me, will you let me go get my things and then you can take me to the pack house?”
Yoongi’s face lights up with a gummy smile as he nods. Your breath hitches at the sight. How can the devastatingly handsome rapper look so adorable?
He stands up, his tail unwrapping from your leg. He softly takes both of your hands while he assists you in standing. You smile and mumble a small thanks as you step forward to leave.
“Prime Alpha, do you think I can talk with Derek briefly to let him know what is happening? This way he can talk to the direc… Boss. Talk to the boss and let him know that I am leaving for the day?”
“Yes, talking to him will be fine. He has been established as part of your familial pack and won’t be considered a threat to the pack if he comes around you now,” Namjoon answers, moving out of your way and motioning for the rest to let you pass.
Bowing slightly, “Thank you, Prime Alpha.”
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Making it to your desk is more complicated than one would think. 
Yoongi won’t leave your right side, while Taehyung won’t leave your left. Both act like it's code red and someone is trying to assassinate you. Then you have the rest of BTS trailing behind like some kind of posse. 
You keep your head down to avoid any strange looks or glares from whomever you pass. To your relief, you find Derek waiting at your desk with his head resting on his palms and a mischievous smile. 
“I see you are taking things in stride,” glancing at your plethora of bodyguards. “Did the Prime Alpha explain everything to you?”
Speaking up from the back of the group, Namjoon answers for you, “She is aware that we are responsible for her at this time and she will be treated at our temporary pack house by our doctor.”
You don’t miss Derek's look of concern as he tilts his head with curiosity at Namjoon. “I see, of course. You are just responsible for getting her treated.”
“Derek, can you please let the big boss know that I will be leaving with Bangtan Pack to seek medical care and once I have more updates I will let you both know?” 
Glancing at Yoongi and still seeing his lovely golden-yellow eyes, you try to ignore the slight flutter in your stomach, “I don’t think it would be good for me to talk with him myself still.”
Derek nods in response, “Manager Sejin has already given the boss a rough time frame for the near future. I suppose his managing skills came in handy. Don’t worry about us here. We can handle it while you heal.”
Standing up, Derek passes you your purse, which Taehyung takes. You try to grab it again, but only to have a black and white tail wrap around your arm and bring it back down to your side.
“No carry. Keep safe.” Taehyung almost grunts out in a deeper-than-deep voice, which short-circuits your brain.
Glancing at Derek out of the side of your eye, you see him briefly nod and smile encouragingly while he whispers, “It’s an Alpha Space thing. Best acknowledge his help.”
“Umm… Th-tha-hank you, Alpha,” you stammer out, willing the heat creeping up your neck to stop as your words pull a boxy grin from the Tiger.
“I think that is it,” you announce to nobody in particular. You smile awkwardly at Derek as he slowly approaches you.
“Y/n, you have been through so much. Not just today but in your life. You have always been the one to take the blame for others, working harder or longer than anyone else and caring for those who never return the favor.”
His eyes glance at the men surrounding you as he sees nods of understanding and looks of concern from them.
As a soft smile blooms on his face, he holds onto your good hand, “Take time for yourself and let this pack of Alphas take care of you. You deserve it more than anyone else I know.”
He pulls you into a hug. You briefly stiffen, waiting for the growling and pulling to start, but to your surprise, it doesn't. Relaxing into his hug, you take his words to heart.
A soft whisper in your ear, “You know you will always have Evie and me as your family pack, but right now, be open to the pack around you,” with one last squeeze, Derek steps back and returns to your desk.
“Now, shoo! Off you go. The boss said I’ll get to man the front desk for now.”
With a nod, you wave goodbye and face the hybrids behind you. After not finding Manager Sejin and a few others missing,  your eyes settle automatically on Namjoon, waiting for a clue as to what to do next. 
“Manager Sejin went down to get the cars. Seokjin-hyung, Hoseok-hyung, and Jimin also went down because we won’t all fit in the elevator.”
“Oh,” you feel a slight tightening in your chest after realizing you didn’t even notice they had gone.
“Miss Y/n, let's take you to get looked at,” Junkook says while inching towards the office doors.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry, I have everything. Lead the way.” 
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You follow the bunny and wolf hybrid while still sandwiched between the tiger and jaguar. Walking through the halls, you gain some attention from the people you pass. 
You’re a mere human surrounded by some of the hottest Idols in the world right now. So why wouldn’t they?
Not willing to look up, you keep your eyes cast down to the feet in front of you as you try to avoid what you are a gazillion percent sure are looks of disgust and hate towards you.
Once the elevator doors open, the tiger lets out a low growl. Glancing up, you see two fellow PMS employees quickly scamper out of the elevator and down the hall. 
That added to the embarrassment for now and when you return to work.
Namjoon and Jungkook take the back corners. Looking at the men by your sides, they motion for you into the elevator next. 
However, when you go to stand in another corner, you are quickly ushered back into the middle with Yoongi and Taehyung in front of you. 
The energy calms down as the doors close. The four Alphas relax now that they surround you and will start taking care of you. 
Even if your trust in them starts with an injury, they know this is their chance to show you what it means to be taken care of, acknowledged as precious, and loved endlessly by the seven of them. 
As the doors part, you're greeted by the remaining packmates waiting for you, smiles warm and welcoming. They're surrounded by more men in black, whom you assume are bodyguards. 
Turning to look at you, Yoongi speaks for the first time since he entered Alpha Space,  “Take home. Keep safe.”
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vivalabunbun · 2 years
Text
On the complexities of relationships and words
Summary: For two people that love to read, words seem like a complex. 
Word Count: 13k (yeah... this is slow burn, might want to get a drink and snack)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow Burn, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Fluff, Angst kind heavy?, Modern AU, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, slow fic, marriage, arranged pairing, dubcon, themes about not liking yourself, TW: gender dysphoria (you don’t like your secondary gender), TW: Very vague and brief mentions to possible past domestic trauma, Jealous!alhaitham, slight yandere!alhaitham, mutual pining, miscommunication, breeding, biting, ruts, Alpha!alhaitham, Beta!reader. You agreed to the pairing due to tax benefits. A lot of references to literature. 
Authors note: This is my first attempt at slow burn and yeah... I got carried away. I want to explore how slow alhaitham would open up and how love can come from the mind instead of the heart. Enjoy.
Side Note: here is a little dabble 
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Love, an emotion that sets the heart on fire. An all-consuming emotion that feels as if one was falling off a cliff while also being embraced tight by the treads of fate. The emotion that’s only separated by a thin line from madness. Or at least, that is how it’s been described to you through books and movies. 
With love being the inspiration for so many poets, artists, and heroes throughout all of history, it comes as no surprise that you found yourself curious about it. It started out innocently, you would listen to the latest romantic ballads from the wandering travelers along the streets of Sumeru. In the nation of wisdom, books were plentiful yet you found your teenage self buying certain novels from Inazuma. Then came the films from Fontaine which you’d spend a week’s worth of pocket money on. 
What first began from your childish curiosity became a hidden infatuation. You wanted to feel those emotions described in those songs, books, and movies. So you began your journey to seek it out. Your first relationship filled you with a certain rush, an excitement to finally experience a scene from those novels you loved… but you were only left with disappointment. 
Kisses felt bland, holding hands felt awkward after too long, and eye contact uncomfortable. There were no lingering thoughts that kept you up at night, no pink haze of pinning, nor a spark that set your chest ablaze. The breakup didn’t come as a surprise, and even so, it didn’t leave you with those gut-wrenching heartbroken sobs into the pillow as you’ve seen in the movies. Just disappointment. 
Perhaps it's because you were basing your expectations on relationships you can never experience. Those songs, those books, those movies? They were all about the bond felt between Alphas and Omegas. 
The maddening ruts and needy heat that left your cheeks flushed when you read about them. The touching gestures of scenting, the descriptions of the additive aroma of their beloved, their fated mate. The marking that proclaimed to the world their undying love. You’ll never experience that… since you’ve presented as a Beta. 
The worker ants of society, the largest class sandwiched between Alphas and Omegas, the extras in their movies. The category of society that can neither produce nor reciprocate pheromones, the population that lived in mediocrity in the eyes of romantics. 
Of course, love was possible for Betas, after all in a population that makes up the majority, there will always be the few that find ‘true love’. But that’s an advanced scholarly topic up for debate, with the societal consensus being that it’s the lowest tier of love. All pairings with Betas belonged in this tier. 
Alpha-Alpha, Omega-Omega, and at the very top of the tier list of ‘true love’ was the Alpha-Omega pairing. After all, love scientifically is created by chemical bonds in the brain with oxytocin, the love hormone. Pheromones kicked the production of oxytocin into overdrive, creating an addiction that makes a person long for their lovers every hour of the day. The chemicals that create the fire of romance you once wished upon shooting stars for. 
Thankfully with time, as you matured into an adult you resigned yourself to your fate. You found solstice in your one advantage as a Beta over any Alpha or Omega: True independence. Free from the chains that are primal desires brought on by pheromones, your head was clear, decisions not dependent on the fever that was love. 
You had given up on searching for love, hey, if you set the bar on the ground then there was less risk of being let down. So that’s why you agreed to your parents’ suggestion of an arranged pairing. To be matched to a life partner by a matchmaker.
--
“Eh? Isn’t that practice kinda outdated?” Dehya questioned. 
“Don’t the city folk use the akasha system, using genetics for compatibility or something?” Your Alpha friend carefully tucked away her compact mirror. 
“Actually, I think that’s really romantic! The traditional way matches you by personality and lifestyle compatibility.” Nilou grasped your hands, wishing you luck. 
“I agree, old fashioned doesn’t mean it's ineffective. It’s still very much practiced in Aaru Village.” Candace sent a slight side-eye to your other Alpha friend across the table. 
--
Perhaps your Alpha and Omega friends were trying to cheer you on, but frankly, they didn’t need to. The next day when you met with the older woman, you went through the process with a sense of boredom. When answering the matchmaker's question, you stated you just wanted a life partner that was honest, loyal, and respected your individuality. 
Next, the matchmaker asked about your interests, you recalled all the literature you used to consume during your obsession with love, and embarrassed by your fruitless past endeavors you answered books.  
“What kind of life do you seek, my dear?” Her wrinkly hands intertwined as she leaned on the table. 
“A peaceful, quiet life.” 
And that was it. She wrote down your responses with a bejeweled quill pen, handwriting beautiful and neat as if she were penning down a poem for you. You were free to go home. Walking down the streets of Sumeru, the dusk birds singing to their lovers, you didn’t even wonder about the Beta she was going to pair you with. You had a full day of work tomorrow, what you really wanted was a full night's rest. 
--
So a month later, you couldn’t hide the bewilderment on your face as you stood in front of a tall Alpha, the partner the matchmaker had deemed a good fit. From his piercing teal orange eyes to his sliver hair to his towering physique, everything about him was the picture-perfect definition of an Alpha. 
‘Alhaitham’ was his name, and you must admit it fit him quite well. His face remained unchanged even after his mesmerizing eyes passed over your form quickly. You couldn’t read the lack of expression on his face, was it disinterest? Indifference? Boredom? 
A part of you wanted to take your parents to the side and whisper in their ears that the matchmaker was a quack. Who in their right mind matches an Alpha with a Beta? Before you could do so, the matchmaker lead your parents out of the room, giving the two of you some privacy to get acclimated. A heavy silence hung in the air as your bodies stood a respectable distance apart, deciding to break the silence you first stated the obvious. 
“I’m not an Omega.” 
“I’m aware.” His deep voice sent a small shiver down your spine. Even his voice was beautiful. 
“I don’t have any pheromone, meaning I can’t bond.” You glanced up at him. 
“I never listed it as a requirement.” 
His answers only seemed to confuse you further, perhaps he didn’t think this through all the way. Sure, the matchmaker revealed that both of you wanted peaceful lives, liked books, and believed firmly in one’s individuality. But there was a massive sumpter beast in the room as the saying goes. 
“Aren’t you worried about… that time of the year…”  
For the first time, his eyes met yours, you quickly shifted your eyes away. 
“Are you referring to ruts? Medicine has advanced quite a bit, there are now inhibitors that can regulate pheromones and ruts. Not that you would know, of course.” He huffed out. 
You couldn’t stop your eyebrow from twitching in annoyance. Ah, he’s also got that Alpha ego. You were still confused, from the look on your face he quickly deduced it as well. 
“I dislike disruptions to my life. Primal desires are just disruptions. To put it bluntly, you as a Beta don’t release pheromones nor go into bouts of unsuppressed lust. Significantly reducing the risk of interrupting my time. You value individuality and are very independent, you’re very unlikely to bother me with trivial matters. All these factors add up to a peaceful, quiet life. Simple isn’t it?” 
When he laid out all the reasons so clearly on the table, it’s hard to not note the truth, Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. Perhaps that’s why his grandmother enlisted the help of a matchmaker in her will. 
After that day, you took home a folder full of documentation on him. Under the golden light of your desk lamp, you sorted through the information in front of you. He had no criminal record, he owns his own house close to the city, and he held a stable job with a very attractive salary. 
You ponder the decision for about a week, weighing the pros and cons. Marriages in Sumeru are often encouraged with sizable tax deductions, more money in your own pocket. Employees with spouses have an easier time requesting paid time off, more money in your pocket and less work. He lacked any familial attachments, meaning no in-laws to deal with. One extra point for being very easy on the eyes too. 
You ultimately signed your name on the marriage documents at the city hall, right next to his emulate penmanship. Right there under the fluorescent lights of the government office, the two of you recited your vows. The only other people in the room were your parents and the clerk filing the paperwork.
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Within the next few months, you’ve carried the boxes filled with your belongings from your cramped apartment into his spacious house. Your old light novels and romantic collection of poems are now placed on a bookshelf adjacent to his. Bright and artistic covers contrasting against bland academic journals. Of course, there was no honeymoon, no break from your regular work schedules. There was no reason to. 
--
In the first year of your marriage, you viewed him with suspicious eyes. You valued loyalty in a life partner and even though he stated he dislike pheromones and primal urges, he was still an Alpha with such natural responses. Yet, you observed that he came home every day at 5:30 pm on the dot, not a single hair out of place nor a single crease on the collar of his button-downs. 
You found him to be a decent housemate, calm, quiet, and respectful of your space. Chores were divided equally between the two of you, making the shared living space organized and dust free. Of course, he was only human thus he also had some flaws. 
Sometimes your foot would knock against a stack of books he had left on the floor near the numerous bookshelves throughout the house. Or how you noticed your shampoo and conditioner bottles emptying at an alarming rate, does he not know how expensive haircare is? 
Alhaitham deemed you a good fit for a life partner. You weren’t disruptive nor dependent on him in any aspect. You spent your own money responsibly, a diligent person who followed a set work routine without needing any reminders. 
You would alternate responsibilities for dinner, but he found your food more flavorful. You threw together ingredients with no regard for measurements, only going off what felt right, compared to his style of calculating the precise amount a ‘pinch’ was. 
Of course, it’s expected that you’ve got some quirks that made him tsk internally. It was small insignificant things. Like how sometimes he would find strands of your hair left in the shower drain. Or how you often tuck his books back into the nearest shelf, not caring about if the genres matched or not. 
“I commend your artistry. However, a mural made from your hair on the shower wall is unnecessary.” 
“You’ve got shorter hair than me, how are you using double the product?”        
“It’s all due to your perception, I’m not using any more product than you.”
“Oh?~ Then I guess the hair on the wall is all just your perception too.”
When living with another person there will always be bumps that needed to be smoothed out. But overall, life was peaceful and quiet just how the two of you liked it. 
--
Alhaitham was Alhaitham, and you were you. Two independent individuals only connected by paper and law. Perhaps the only couple-like aspect of your relationship was sharing the same bed. Of course, this was done only out of necessity. 
The only other room in the house with a bed was the guest room, even so, there was still an imbalance. The mattress was much smaller and firm when compared to the grand bed in the master bedroom. 
He didn’t snore and neither did you, you didn’t toss and turn in your sleep and neither did he. With two separate blankets, he deemed that sharing a bed with you wouldn’t cause any disturbance to his sleep. You two had more than enough money to afford another bed, but just the thought of rearranging the furniture to accommodate it was too bothersome for the both of you. There was more than enough room on the bed for two bodies to sleep without ever touching. 
No loud passionate fights nor lingering glances and maddening touches. Just the calm lull of normalcy. But you were satisfied. 
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By your second year with him, you’ve gotten acquainted with the nuances in his manner of speech. In particular, his sarcastic quips that you’d return with vivacity. 
“Mmm, I appreciate the attempt. But I’d rather my books be sorted by subject rather than by instinct.” 
“There’s faster ways to collect my life insurance than by getting me to trip over a book, Haitham.” 
During this year, the two of you also began to use more familiar terms to address each other. Instead of your name, he’d simply call you wife, and you shortened his name. Husband and ‘Haitham’ had the same amount of letters anyways. 
When the date of your courthouse wedding came around, nothing happened. 
No flowers, no shiny gifts of jewels, not even a sweet dessert. After all, he found it silly to spend so much effort on a singular day instead of placing that enthusiasm into every regular day of life.
Birthdays shared the same sentiment, you’d be invited out by your group of friends to a celebration planned by Nilou, while Alhaitham would stay at home with his books. 
--
“Happy birthday.” You placed a cup of freshly brewed coffee down in front of him. 
“Thank you.” Besides your statement, there was nothing out of the ordinary. 
“Hopefully I’m one year closer to collecting your pension.” 
  Alhaitham has to admit he does enjoy your sardonic humor, but you’d never be able to tell just by looking at him. He took a sip of his coffee, by year two you finally learned how not to scald the coffee grounds when doing a pour-over.
Life continued on, and the two of you were still like parallel lines traveling in the same direction side by side and separately. 
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It’s now the third year of your marriage. You were currently busy in the kitchen, Alhaitham had just informed you earlier there’d be guests coming over tonight. Fortunately, it’s a Friday which meant you had a half day at work. Quickly purchasing ingredients from street vendors on your way back. 
He never had any guests over before, so you assumed that these guests must be important people from work. 
You even made sure not to use spices that were too fragrant, just in case any of the guests were extremely sensitive to smells, as Alhaitham had informed you they were all Alphas. Tachin was a rather simple but delicious dish to make. You also picked fresh ingredients that would make a very quick and satisfying salad. 
Your husband didn’t particularly like soup, but he doesn’t have the right to be picky when you’re the one rushing to cook enough food for five people, so minty bean soup will be on the table. He had a collection of wines in a separate room, you’ll leave the wine selection up to him. 
Just as you finished setting the plates and dishes on the table the chime of the doorbell went off. Wiping off your hands and taking off your apron, doing a quick once-over in the hallway mirror before answering the door. 
“O-oh… You’re a… Beta…” 
The blond Alpha in front of you had a look of bewilderment across his handsome features. Rudy eyes peering down at you in astonishment as you maintained a polite face. 
“Oof-” 
An elbow was jabbed into the blond’s side as a shorter dark-haired man signaled for him to shut up. 
“Thank you for having us over for dinner.” His friendly face gave you a smile. 
“Welcome.” You invited all the men in. 
  The bewildered blond at the door’s name was Kaveh, the dark-haired man was Tighnari, and the white-haired man with the intense gaze was Cyno. 
You familiarized yourself with their names, and from time to time you felt their eyes passing glances over at you as they made small talk. Alhaitham was currently picking out a few bottles of wine. 
“So, you’re actually his wife… Ah! Of course, it’s no fault of yours. I’m just shocked he’s actually married, I thought he was bluffing when he said he had a wife. There were no signs… Ugh! Great, I owe drinks now.” Kaveh sighed, face in his hands. 
“Alhaitham doesn’t want others knowing too much about him. But the proof is right in front of our eyes.” Cyno leaned his elbows on the table. 
Ah, it makes sense that people at his work wouldn’t know about you. There weren’t even rings to distinguish the relationship. Usually, relationships nowadays were sensed through the presence of pheromones on the bodies of lovers. However, you were a Beta with no pheromones to cling onto his person. There’s not the slightest chance he ever talked about you. The two of you were also never seen in public together, so in the eyes of many Alhaitham is still a bachelor. There was a slight churn in your stomach, was the soup upsetting it?
“Gossiping about me while sitting in my house and right in front of my wife?” 
Alhaitham’s deep voice mysteriously made the knot in your stomach go away, or maybe it was the way he referred to you, ‘my wife’. He placed the bottles of wine and glasses on the table. 
“It’s nothing major. We’re just surprised someone is willing enough to stand your arrogance.” Kaveh crossed his arms. 
“Unwed people should not have any comments on other’s relationships.” 
“Hey! Why you-”
“Huh…” You pondered out loud. 
The attention of the men in the room was all on you now. 
“Oh, pardon my interruption. I guess I’m just in awe that my husband has friends.” 
In an instant laughter ripped through the air. 
“Bwahahaha! Alhaitham, I like your wife already! Ahahaha!” Kaveh was laughing so hard tears were forming in his eyes. 
Tighnari had one hand gripping the table and the other covering his mouth as he tried desperately to suppress his snickers, ultimately unsuccessfully.  
“Well, I’m not sure if friends is the ‘correct’ term.” Cyno’s voice was steady, but you could see the small shakes of his shoulders. 
“I’m beginning to wonder if inviting guests to the house was the right decision.” 
--
Still, the dinner continued and the drinks started to pour. After your statement from earlier, the atmosphere at the table became more lighthearted aided by the help of alcohol. 
“So, what’s the occasion?” You asked as you took a sip out of your glass. 
“Huh? Alhaitham! How did you not tell your wife about your promotion?” Kaveh nearly spat out his wine. 
 “There’s no reason to dampen her mood with bad tidings.” 
“Bad?!-” You wondered if the blond’s voice could shatter the glass in your hands. 
“Keeping your cards close to your chest, even from your wife.” Cyno side-eyed your husband. 
“Not at all. Not that the unwed head lawyer would need to know.” 
“Tsk.” The tan Alpha crossed his arms. 
“Now, now just because he didn’t tell his wife doesn’t mean Alhaitham’s a bad husband.” Tighnari tried to dispel the tension while also landing a subtle jab. 
“Mmm, congratulations, Haitham.” You swirled your wine. 
“Thank you.” Your husband replied. 
The three Alphas looked at each other, eyes sending silent messages. They must find your marriage to the ashen-hair Alpha strange. Alpha-Beta pairings were already against convention, but it seems like the two of you matched each other's pace. Two weird people found each other. 
--
After dinner was finished and you bid goodbye to the guests at the front door. 
“Be grateful you stone-faced brat… Your wife’s got... too good to be stuck with your stale…” 
The two shorter men carrying the blabbering blond off your front steps. 
“He’s quite the lightweight.” You briefly mentioned while over the sink.
 “I’m just grateful there’s still wine left. Go rest, I’ll get the dishes.” His larger frame takes up the space at the sink, silently encouraging you to move away. 
So you left clean-up duty to him, a fair trade for making you cook a feast so out of the blue. As you stood under the warm water pouring over your body in the shower, your mind began to replay the conversations over dinner. They made you realize just how little you actually knew about your own husband despite living under the same roof for three going on four years now. 
Once he stepped foot outside of your shared space he was practically a stranger. What was his job like? Who were his friends? What were his favorite places? Hell, even in your house, he was still a stranger. What books is he reading now? When does he find time to work out? What does he do when you leave the house? This realization made you shiver, as you turned the knob to increase the temperature of the water.
 It wouldn’t hurt to try and get to know him a little better. 
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One Sunday morning, you walked into the living room greeted by the sight of him reading one of your old light novels. Seeing his large hand hold the bright book, decorated with a pair of lovers embracing, while his eyes studied the text like his academic papers was almost comical… If only you didn’t wish to sink through the floor in humiliation. He must’ve lost interest in his own books, or maybe he’d gone through his whole collection. 
Either way, to prevent such an occurrence from happening again, you began to pick up some books for your husband on your way home. 
‘Metaphysics’, ‘Epistemology’, ‘Quantum Mechanics’: those seemed like topics that’d interest him, you reasoned as you stood in line to purchase them. Your eyes caught sight of a certain book, ‘le rouge et le noir’, on a whim you decided to add it to the stack of heavy books. Not for your husband, but rather for yourself. 
That night you handed the books over to him as he was about to go to his favorite reading spot on the couch. 
“What’s this for?” He stared at the stack of thick books in your hands. 
“Just passed by a bookstore and figured you might need something new to read.” You gestured for him to take them. 
“You didn’t have to go out of your way to gift this to me. Thank you, I shall read them.” His low voice indifferent as always, finally taking the weight out of your hands. 
You proceeded to move over to the smaller sofa in the living room and plopped down. Pulling out the book you had purchased earlier, you glanced up at him eyes questioning why he was staring. Alhaitham cracked open one of the academic journals you gifted him and averted his teal gaze. 
This was a break from your normal routine, but you felt like it’d be a nice change to get back into reading. It also gives you the opportunity to learn more about Alhaitham by spending more time in his presence. But more importantly, it would allow you to keep an eye on your husband to ensure he doesn’t go snooping through your bookshelf again. Maybe you should just donate them, but no library in Sumeru would ever accept them.
Soon that break from routine became the norm. Every night after the kitchen table was cleared, dishes cleaned, and bodies freshly towel dried you and Alhaitham will sit adjacent to each other enjoying quiet reading time. The soft light from the tall floor lamps and soft flicks of turning pages adding to the ambiance of the room. 
From time to time, you can hear the sound of him writing some sentences down on a notepad. So he likes to take notes on the books he reads. You learned something new. 
Another new fact you gained from your observations of your husband was that he reads fast, really fast. He had already finished all three books before you were even halfway done with yours. You had to act fast lest his teal eyes begin to wander towards your bookshelf again. So, you found yourself back at the bookstore once more. Picking up any thick academic journals on topics ranging from ancient ruins to the newest peer-reviewed breakthroughs.
Maybe you should also pick up some notepads and sticky notes, you saw how thin the pad had gotten last night. It just so happened that the romance section was right by the shelves of stationeries. The book from Fontaine you had bought on a whim was in your opinion more psychological than romantic. However, the romantic elements present seems to have reignited your interest in the romance genre. 
Oh well, you were grown enough now to not be so easily swooned by poetic descriptions of love. You picked the first book whose description piqued your interest and added it to the basket. 
One of the first lessons taught to the children of Sumeru was to be cautious when putting out campfires. If not killed correctly, the unseen smoke can make fallen leaves catch fire. A small flame grows into a hellish blaze that consumes whole acres of forest. 
--
   “Thank you very much. Again, this isn’t necessary.” Alhaitham still took the books out of your hands. 
The small notepad on top of the stack caught his attention, his teal eyes looked into yours with a questioning glance. 
“Your notepad’s running out, and there was a sale.” 
“I see.” 
From time to time during your quiet reading session, you would glance up, a part of you hoping to see Alhaitham use the new stationery you’ve just bought him. A frown tugged at your lips when you saw he had set it to the side in favor of his old, thinning notepad. Maybe the color isn’t to his liking. 
You continue to buy stationeries for him. Any fancy notepads or post-its that caught your eye at a store, every time you give them to him, he would thank you. Then proceed to never use them. Perhaps, the ones you got were too fancy? He seemed to like simple and practical items. Next time you got plainer ones, just simple squares of plain paper, he still left them untouched. 
Maybe, you needed to find higher-quality ones. But if he didn’t like them then why does he keep accepting them? Should you try your luck with pens instead, he does go through quite a few. Ah, the sentiment from the very first time you met him still rang true to this day. Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. 
He was an enigma to you. 
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You were an enigma to him. 
Alhaitham wasn’t sure when it started, but his mind grew curious about you. Perhaps it’s because he read through his collection of books, or maybe because things at work have been dull lately. Thus, he deduced it was only logical that you started to pique this interest in a bored mind. You lived in the same house and slept in the same bed. With you constantly being in close proximity, of course, he will want to learn more about you after more than three years together. 
One of the best ways to start studying you would be to start with your bookshelf. Alhaitham vaguely remembers you saying that you were interested in books, yet in all these years in the same space he hasn’t ever seen you touch your own shelf. What a pity, he could’ve used the extra space for his own books. Running a finger along the row of books, stopping on a random one he made his decision. 
--
Your taste in literature is, how should he put it, very different from his own preferences. The descriptions of the actions taken by the Alpha main character and his Omega lover were idiotic, to say the least. The lengthy declarations of the love and affection they held for each other, and the sentences riddled with exaggerations and rhetoric. The romance between the characters was the priority of the novel, thus the plot suffered greatly from it. 
In his opinion, the book was a mess. Yet, he didn’t once feel as if he had wasted his time. Alhaitham discovered a new side to you, is this the type of novel that interests you even as a Beta? The soft taps of your feet suddenly paused as it rounded the corner into the living room. Alhaitham looked up to see a tense look on your face as you stared at the novel currently in his hands. 
No words were exchanged between the two of you as you continued to stare, looking at the book then back at him. It was only for a minute at most, yet it felt a lot longer before you turned on your heels without so much as a word. It was brief, but Alhaitham thinks he saw the tips of your ears flush. Oh, did he stumble upon a guilty pleasure of yours? 
His actions must have been the cause of this deviation from routine, Alhaitham concluded while staring at the stack of books presented to him. Even on birthdays and holidays, gifts weren’t regularly exchanged between the two of you, so this was certainly a surprise. You were looking at him with eyes urging him to take the heavy books from your hands. He couldn’t refuse the offer. 
What came next was even more of a surprise, you sat on the usually empty sofa and pulled out a book of your own. The cover was different from the ones lining your bookshelf, the colors were much simpler, he also notes that the book comes from Fontaine. You were quiet and focused on your own novel, it didn’t cause any disruptions to his sacred reading time so he didn’t say anything about it. 
Soon your curled form on the sofa became a regular sight to see. Every now and then you’d readjust your position, trying to find a comfortable way to hold your book while also relaxing. Alhaitham subconsciously scribbles down brief notes on the book he holds in his other hand. Yet this time when he looked down, he had recorded this small detail about you on the paper. He felt your eyes glancing over as he swiftly crossed out what he had just written. 
A few days later you gifted him more books along with a new notepad. Now there's an unequal exchange happening. You have now gifted him many items, and he has yet to give you anything in return besides a simple ‘thanks’. What should he give you? Alhaitham pondered the question for a bit. 
He realizes that he doesn’t have a firm grasp on your likes and dislikes. Should he try books? No, he’s not familiar enough with your taste in literature to confidently gift a book you’d enjoy. If there was something that you liked, you’d just buy it right then and there with no hesitation with your own money. He thought about it a bit longer. 
When you came home from a particularly tiring day of work you’d often have a small take-out bag in your hands. The frown on your face would melt away the moment you pulled the padisarah pudding from the bag. Alhaitham opened his eyes, he has found the gift to give you. But from which cafe did you get that dessert? 
--
“Oh?” You looked at the padisarah pudding currently on the kitchen table. 
“It’s for you.” Alhaitham didn’t look up from his book. 
“Thank you. Actually, I have something for you as well.” You began to dig through your bag. 
Alhaitham glanced up to see you present him a new notepad and a stack of stick notes, the green paper embossed with gold detailing. He hasn’t even touched the first notepad you had gifted with a pen, and here you were giving him another. Now the current gift balance is even more off. 
You took your first spoonful of the pudding, his teal eyes secretly peeking at your expression as you processed the flavor. You furrowed your brow slightly holding the spoon in your mouth, then shrugged your shoulder as you took another bite. Your face didn’t light up like when you ate the ones you bought. 
Tsk, this means Alhaitham bought it from the wrong store. He knows he could simply just ask you which place made your favorite pudding. However, he finds the opportunity for experimentation in front of him more interesting. He wonders what faces you’ll give for each variation of the dessert. 
He gained more knowledge about you, you have a sweet tooth. He already guessed from your fondness for a certain dessert, but those were a treat for once in a while. You liked fruits, often snacking on them when you were bored on your phone, or as a late-night snack when reading. 
“Mmmh.” You looked down at the zaytun peach in your hand. 
“Is something the matter?” He asked, placing his cup of coffee down. 
“Which vendor did you get this peach from?” You looked over at him. 
“Why? Is there something wrong with the quality?”
“No, I like it. It’s got the right amount of firmness and sweetness.” You took another bite. 
Alhaitham made sure to only get zaytun peaches from that specific vendor. 
--
Currently, the head secretary was facing a small dilemma. On his desk he has amassed quite a collection of stationeries. All in part thanks to you, he took some of the notepads and sticky notes to his office, your gifting habits slowed when it looked like he was using them. The ashen-haired man could not pinpoint where this sudden obsession of giving him stationeries came from. 
Although, he has to admit it is quite amusing to watch the expression on your face as you watched his every time you handed over a new office item. It reminds him of a cat presenting its owner with shiny objects it had found, waiting for its human to react. But the current gift exchange ratio is still off. 
  His teal eyes scanned the report that had been placed on his desk earlier in the morning, there were a lot of important details between the lines on the pages. He should list down the details on a note before passing it on to the CEO. A hand reached towards the pile of post-its on his desk, courtesy of you, before it stopped. 
‘It would be too much of a waste to use good quality paper for such a tedious task.’ He reasons as he used one of the subpar post-its provided by the office. 
Dropping the report off at the CEO’s desk before he headed out for his lunch break. Walking to his favorite cafe, a familiar flash of color caught his eyes, a florist was selling potted pardisarahs. You did always seem to admire the colorful flowers that decorated the top of the dessert. 
He stood there on the street contemplating the plant. Padisarahs are fickle flowers, needing a specific blend of soil and precisely measured amounts of water. Too much sun and the fragile petals will burn, too little and the vibrancy of its leaves fade. He concluded that he didn’t want to bestow such a hassle on you. 
Returning from his lunch break to his office, Alhaitham was greeted by a great violation of his personal space. Covering his desk were stacks of new proposals and applications, those weren’t out of the ordinary. But the colorful squares plastered all over each new proposal were:
Please approve these proposals secretary Alhaitham! They are very important! ASAP
Here are the calculations of the research funds for next year, take a look at them - T
Alhaitham you better approve my application this time, the project is already delayed and I filed this paperwork twice! If you have any respect for your senior then approve this as soon as possible! - K
Head secretary, these are the new amendments to company policies. The legal team is awaiting your approval before we proceed with the implementation. - C
 They used the stationeries that you had gifted him to write nonsense. They had the gall to ask him for favors after they touched his desk without permission and wasted such pretty paper. 
Every proposals on his desk got thrown in the trash without so much as a glance. Nothing got approved, next time they should carefully consult his listed work hours outside the office. 
He didn’t think he’d have to make a sign that said ‘do not touch the items on my desk’ to a workplace of grown adults, but he was very much contemplating it now.  
Later that night, his annoyance from earlier in the day melted away once he cracked open the new book gifted to him. Your form comfortably wrapped in a light quilt as you cradled yours. The minutes turned into hours, the silence comfortable like the heat from a fireplace. A soft snap echoed through the room, your hand moving towards your face from the corner of his eye.
“Is something the matter?”
“Mm? Oh, no. The ending was just sad.” You wiped a tear from your other eye.
He learned something new about himself today, he didn’t like seeing you cry. 
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You really should’ve known better. Like Icarus, you’ve flown too close to the sun. The glue binding the wings of maturity and sanity you’ve crafted started to melt and fall apart, causing you to plunge down. Falling back into the obsession of ‘love’. What started as just one book, turned into two, turned into four. Now your once sparsely populated shelves were crowded with new romance titles of all sorts. 
--
 “You’re rather late today.” Alhaitham’s voice made you freeze in place. 
Why did the living room have to be so close to the front door, maybe you should’ve snuck back in through the back door. Sneaking back into your own house, did you revert back to a teenager while in your fourth year of marriage? 
“Sorry ‘bout that, I got caught up with friends.” 
That was a blatant lie, your poor friends were dragged into your mess all because you couldn’t be honest. You weren’t in their company, no, you were in the theaters watching a film alone. But how could you ever admit to him that as the Alpha and Omega lovers danced on the screen, you pictured your faces over theirs? 
Alhaitham acknowledged your explanation with a small hum, never looking up from his book. Good, because you were certain if he did, he would’ve seen right through your lie. 
Was your handsome husband the spark that rekindled your obsession? Or was it the stories you’ve been consuming that made your heart thump harder in his presence? 
You weren’t sure which was which, but you couldn’t deny the truth you’ve buried. You were in love with Alhaitham. It was an undeniable fact. From the beginning, you’ve always liked him. His quiet demeanor, his baritone voice, and his teal-orange eyes. But now you were in love with them, every aspect of him. You hated how helpless it made you feel. 
But you secretly liked how good it felt. After years of dormancy, you finally felt it, the rush described to you in those stories. That can’t sleep love, that delicious burn of pining, the itch in your chest as you laid in bed next to him. Two quilts defining the unseen boundaries of personal space, you longed to creep over it but you lacked the courage. 
What does he smell like? The same shower and laundry products were shared between the two of you. But that is not what you meant. What did his pheromones smell like? Was it a cool fresh scent, cool like the minty streaks hidden through his ashen hair? Or was it deep and woodsy? Maybe he smells like the pages of an old library book. 
You used to pity your Omega classmates, for you knew the stigma and inconveniences they will face in their lives. However, right now you envied them to the point of nausea. They knew what Alhaitham’s scent was, but you don’t. Why did you have to be a Beta? 
The demon known as insecurity you thought you’ve left behind was actually lurking in your shadow the whole time. 
Maybe you should check yourself into the Bimarstan, the fever of love feels as if it’s melting your brain. His gaze felt piercing now, his accidental skinships seared your skin. You had no one to blame but yourself, Alhaitham is not at fault, you were the one who fell into the fire as he sat in his place on the couch unaware. Even after four years you still couldn’t be honest with your own husband.
Feelings were never discussed because he believed you had a mutual understanding that this was for convenience. 
You can’t tell him you wanted more. How can you tell him you wanted more? There’s already a wall four years in the making, too great to overcome.   
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‘I need to rein myself in’ Alhaitham thought as his eyes followed your figure through the crowd below. It was a slow Friday at work so he decided to walk away from his desk, arriving at an overpass that looked over the streets of Sumeru. Something compelled him to look below, and under the golden sun there you were, and by your side was another Alpha. 
Dehya is her name, a good friend of yours that you introduced once before leaving for a birthday celebration. A good friend who had the privilege to ruffle your hair and loop an arm around your shoulders as she ushers you into one of the many stalls filled with glittering trinkets. 
His hand tightened its grip on the railing, why did she have privileges he was denied? Alhaitham felt he was stalking his own wife. Idiotic really. 
Skinship was not commonplace between you, an unseen glass wall defining the boundaries of your personal space. Whenever his skin met yours, you’d flinch and pull away as if you were burned. He always just apologize and the two of you would move on without another word. Hell, even if his eyes lingered on you for too long you’d tense up. 
It’s been happening more often now, is it because his eyes started wandering more towards your figure or how his hand itched to hold yours?  
Were you scarred by a past relationship? Were your flinches the remnants of a darker period in your life before him? His jaw clenched. By pulling a few strings he had pulled up more files of your past, to satisfy his mind’s hungry, but there was nothing. It only made his curiosity hunger more, or was it something else? Alhaitham wanted answers to why you hated his touches and stares, yet wanted to be in his presence and give him gifts. 
There was only one conclusion he could come up with: you liked your personal space. And he will respect it, but why did your friends not have to?
There was now a knot in his stomach as if a beast was clawing at it, maybe he should call off work and head to the Bimarstan. He disappeared from the overpass. 
“Haitham.” He heard your soft pounds on the door. 
“Leave some hot water for me.” He could envision the pout on your lips, and that’s what brought him over the edge. 
Watching with shameless eyes as the evidence of his guilt washed down the shower drain, running water masking his pants. 
If he can’t touch you, that doesn’t mean he can’t think about you; words spoken like a true creep he silently chastised. Alhaitham doesn’t care to admit how long he’s been doing this, perhaps his primal urges weren’t as controlled as he believed. 
It’s strange really, you’re a Beta yet you make him have these urges.
You don’t produce any pheromones to cling onto his body. But by using the same shower products as you, it serves the same purpose of scenting no? A foolish voice Alhaitham pushed from the back of his mind, taking another pump of your body wash. Maybe he should check the dosage of his inhibitors. 
The only opportunity he got to observe you closely was when you were asleep. ‘You’re quite the heavy sleeper’, he notes as his eyes traced over the subtle curves of your cheeks, the contours of your nose, and the softness of your lips. 
It’s accepted wisdom that Omegas were the most beautiful people. The top A-list singers and actors being Omegas only solidified the belief. However, Alhaitham’s confident your existence could challenge that very notion. 
If it weren’t for your distinct lack of a scent, any Alpha could’ve mistaken you for an Omega. Even his guests were taken aback by how your appearance didn’t match your status as a Beta. 
There was a pang in his chest. If he felt those urges when looking at you, then it’s guaranteed that others, specifically other Alphas, have felt it as well. But why? He trusted you to stay true to your convictions of loyalty and integrity… He wasn’t so sure about others though. Even with the inhibitors coursing through his system, he couldn’t seem to push down that annoying hand clawing at his back. 
You stirred, huddling into your blanket more, snapping his attention back. ‘Oh, you must be cold again’. The houses in Sumeru were designed to keep hot air out, so when a northern cold front blew in, you definitely felt it. 
Quietly getting up, Alhaitham pulled the spare quilt out of the closet, gently layering it over your curled form. The knit between your brows disappeared as a pleased expression overtook your face. Were you having a pleasant dream? Was he ever included? Subconsciously his hand began to reach for your face, only to freeze. 
‘Personal space’ he reminds himself as he strolls out of the bedroom. 
It makes no sense to him, you’re a Beta. In fact, the reason why he married you in the first place was because he believed your lack of pheromones and lack of heats won’t disrupt his peaceful life. The matchmaker had called him her biggest challenge, persevering only because of a promise made to his late grandma. 
So, how were you still corrupting his thoughts like this? 
He should read to calm his mind before he attempts to join you back in bed. Thoughts running laps in his head, analyzing then overanalyzing every last explanation he could come up with. 
Alhaitham’s greedy hands made their way over to your bookshelf, perhaps he could sedate a bit of his curiosity as well. Pulling the Fontainian novel that marked the start of a tradition. 
Under the golden glow of a lamp he flipped through the pages, it seems that your taste in literature has matured. Teal eyes skimming past a paragraph before going back to do a double take. 
‘Love born in the brain is more spirited, doubtless, than true love, but it has only flashes of enthusiasm; it knows itself too well, it criticizes itself incessantly; so far from banishing thought, it is itself reared only upon a structure of thought.’
He reached an epiphany. 
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It looks like you’ve been careless recently. Too distracted by the task of masking your infatuation of your husband from your husband, and maintaining your independent mask to realize that Alhaitham had once again finished all his books. 
The novel right in front of you, moved from its place on your shelf, was proof of that. 
‘It’s a good book’
Your husband’s neat handwriting was present on the small mint post-it plastered on the front cover. It was a simple gesture yet it made your heart flutter as if you had won the achievement of a lifetime. You finally got Alhaitham to use one of the many stationeries gifted to him. 
Carefully peeling the paper off the cover, then folding it to tuck it away in your pocket. 
“At least it’s not another light novel this time.” You affirmed, sticking the book back into its spot. 
--
“The mahamatra have announced a total recall of the inhibitors distributed during the past three months, with reports-”
You were lost in your own little world, contemplating just which books haven’t you bought for your husband yet. Tuning out the sounds of the bookstore playlist and TV as your eyes scanned the titles of the thick books in front of you. 
Would he like Sci-Fi? Sure it’s not academic but maybe it’ll have nuggets of information in there that’d catch his interest. 
--
The weight of the books made your bag strap dig into your shoulder, seeing the house in the distance, you picked up your pace for the home stretch. Tomorrow marks the start of a four-day public holiday, and after the crunch time your boss put you through to tie up loose ends. You needed it. 
Turning the keys in the knob you entered your peaceful little safe haven. 
Only to immediately feel the heaviness in the air. 
Your husband should be home by now, yet the spot on the couch remained empty. His shoes were placed at the door, albeit messily. Kicking off yours as you placed the bag on the coffee table, you navigated your way through the halls. 
The atmosphere was quiet, but not the comforting silence you’ve experienced for the last five years. 
“Haitham?” You called out, about to turn the corner into the master bedroom. 
His black button-down and slacks were thrown all over the floor, a large lump was currently huddled under your blankets on your side of the bed. ‘Oh, he must be napping’. 
Two years in, Alhaitham slept shirtless again like he did before you came. Never before were you grateful that your job made you get up at ungodly 8 am, but having an extra 30 minutes to look at his godly body as he slept made mornings bearable. 
Still, the air didn’t feel right and even if he was messy sometimes, your husband never just threw his clothes on the ground when the laundry basket was right in the corner. His breathing also seemed labored. 
“Haitham, are you sick?” Reaching a hand into the cocoon of blankets, feeling for his temperature. 
A sharp inhale was heard as his breathing stilled, his skin was burning. You moved onto a different patch of skin to confirm it. He must have a fever. 
“You’re burning! I’ll get medicine and water, don’t move.” Your hand quickly retracted. 
Just as your back was turned towards him, like a monster from beneath the blankets a pair of arms entrapped you.
“H-haitham?” His touch was searing you. 
“W-woah?!” 
In an instant, you were pinned under Alhaitham’s towering form, the soft sheets cushioning your body. The place where he once curled was twisted and balmy. Your eyes shoot up at him as he hovered above, your body stiffened. A scarlet haze offset the brilliant teal hue you’ve grown so infatuated with, a sense of impending danger ran down your neck. 
He doesn’t have a fever, he’s in a rut. 
Your thoughts were running wild, bouncing around in your skull as his labored breathing above continued. In all five years, you’ve never seen Alhaitham go into a rut, he was always diligent with his inhibitors. You’ve never been around an Alpha in rut, after all, you were never the one to trigger it. 
It’s embarrassing really, you had no idea what to do, all your experience with ruts came from those steamy light novels. 
“H-haitham, let me up, I’ll get your inhibitors...” You tried to tug your wrists from his grasp. 
Big mistake. His grip tightened as he buried his face into the side of your neck, a low rumble was felt from his chest. Alhaitham had his nose right up against your neck, taking deep inhales as if he was trying to detect something. 
You shivered as your body temperature shot up, you’ve never been this close to him, the brushes of his ashen locks against your neck made your legs rub together. 
“Hey…” You moved your neck away, the sensation was almost overwhelming. 
“Stay still.” A baritone voice vibrated against you. 
On command your body stilled, muscles refusing to move as Alhaitham continued his search. His breath was against your ear, tickling it as he took deep inhales of your hair. A low groan was heard as if he was frustrated with something.  
“Not enough.” 
“Huh?-” 
The sound your blouse getting torn off your body resonated through the air. Even will a layer of clothing gone, your body felt hotter. Just as you began to process the loss of your favorite blouse, another rip rang in your ears. Your skirt was now gone as well. You were so vulnerable under his touches. 
Dragging his nose down from your neck, over your covered breasts, then along your belly. His hands now gripped your thighs as he shifts down to part them effortlessly, eyes focused on your covered cunt. 
Your mind was groggy, reactions dulled, why was the room so hot? Suddenly you felt his nose against your cunt, taking long whiffs of the slick that was beginning to wet the fabric of your panties. That was enough to spark action from you. 
“H-hey!” Your hands pushed against his messy locks as your thighs tried to preserve your dignity.  
“Ah!” You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth. 
In protest of your attempt to shut him out of heaven, Alhaitham bit into the soft flesh of your thigh. Hazy eyes looking straight into yours, warning you to not do it again. His intense gaze made something deep in your cunt pulse. 
Sharp teeth released soft skin as his attention was back on the honeypot in front of him. Your panties offered as much resistance as wet paper against his swift tug, the fabric now on the floor in pieces. 
Your cunt twitched with each hot breath that hit against its wet lips. With the thin barrier gone, Alhaitham can now freely bury his nose against your honeypot, tingles ran up his spine as the sweet musk of your slick sent his olfactory system into chaos. His throat felt parched as if he had just trekked the desert, he needed a taste. 
“Ah! Ahhh,” your back arched as his hot tongue lapped against your cunt. 
Alhaitham was slurping up your slick like a depraved beast, wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit, occasionally dipping into the contracting hole. Your whole body shook when the smoothness of his tongue ran across your clit, toes curling in the air.
 The shower head couldn’t bring out this level of pleasure. The fantasies you envisioned during your long showers couldn’t compare to the scene happening right now. His ministration continued, each stroke of his tongue sending blinding waves of pleasure. 
His hips were angrily rutting against the sheets, erection rubbing against the fabric impatiently. But he had to taste you more, his mind hazy as it craved nothing more than your taste. It was his first taste, but he was already addicted. Your legs tensed up in his grip as a loud whine left your lips, your body shaking as a sudden rush of slick was welcomed onto his awaiting tongue. 
Your sensitive body tried to flinch away as he continued to lap against your swollen lips and clit but his iron grip on your legs didn’t let you budge an inch. Eyes rolled back as the sweet torture continued. 
Your body convulsed, did you just cum again? Two orgasms sapped you of all strength, everything fell limp as your moans continued to fill the room. Your mind too foggy to even process the feeling of embarrassment. It felt so good, yet it was torturing, your cunt was sobbing for something else. 
As if taking mercy on your desperation, or maybe his desperation had reached its limit, Alhaitham pulled away. Teary eyes followed his motion, watching as he aligned his length with your greed.
You’ve seen him walk out of the shower in just a towel, how did he hide this behind a puny towel? 
Your cunt’s eagerness blocked any hesitation from reaching your brain as his length dragged itself against your soaked lips. The pillow behind your head was not enough, you needed something more solid to hold onto, to ground the last shred of your sanity. 
Shaky hands released the plush pillows, outstretched towards Alhaitham’s immense frame. A growl ripped through his chest as he dove into your arms at the same time as his length thrusted fully inside you.  
“OH!” Your fingers left deep stretches along his shoulder blades. 
His pants and soft growls vibrated against your neck as your eyes rolled back again, the fullness you’d been craving has been fulfilled. The stretch burned in all the right ways as your walls clung onto his member, thick and hard. Soft legs locked around a solid torso, your body pressed against his as his frame pinned yours to the bed. Just as you were adjusting to feeling of his length inside, his hips began moving. 
They were merciless, slapping against your hips and ass as the force made your whole body bounce. His length punishes your walls as it pulled out to just the tip only to be slammed back in at full strength. You clung to his muscular body for dear life, breasts bouncing out of their home in your bra. 
Nonsense was spilling out of your mouth as your brain malfunctioned from the blinding flashes of pleasure. The slick slaps of your cunt eagerly welcoming his every move and the headboard of the bed knocking against the wall complimented each other. 
Alhaitham’s pants were growing heavier, growls deeper as his tongue began to trace up and down your neck. The sensation along with his thick tip bullying your poor sweet spot pushed you over the edge for the third time. Walls clamping down to milk him as your legs squeezed him, the pleasure was toeing the edge of pain, much like how your brain was on the verge of madness. 
Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, heavy balls slapping against your swollen lips. 
As the high was beginning to wear off, his pace became impossibly fast, the solid wood headboard now banging against the poor wall. Your bodies rocking together on the bed, he buried his face deeper into your neck. His teeth danced along your shoulder as your moans sang in his ears. He wanted to hear more of it. 
Alhaitham’s hips slammed against yours one final time before they stilled, teeth digging into your shoulder to suppress a moan, burying his length deep inside your cunt as his thick seed spilled. 
Your greed drank all of it up gratefully as your shoulder stung. 
Your chest was raising and falling fast, lungs trying to hog all the air that it could hold. Heart pounding hard in your ears. Tears and drool wet your face as your head fell weakly to the side on the soft pillow. You were completely spent as your arms didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him. Limbs limp and nerves fried. 
Above you Alhaitham continued to pant into your shoulder, length still buried inside. 
After a couple more harsh pants and deep breaths, you felt him stir, pushing against the bed to unpin you from his frame. 
“Ah-hh ahh~” You felt your walls clench once more around his length as he pulled out, a thick string of mixed slick connected his tip to your hole. 
Your body longed for rest as you turned onto your stomach, face pressed against the pillow, still panting heavily as your eyes closed. 
Two large hands grasped firmly onto your hips, startling your consciousness back as you looked over your shoulder. 
Alhaitham still had that scarlet haze in his eyes as he lifted your hips up, watching as more mixed fluids began to tickle out of your abused hole. Your eyes shifted down and you gulped, he was still erect. 
You were quite foolish to believe that one round was enough to satisfy an Alpha in rut. However, if it weren’t for his firm grasp on your hips, your body would’ve collapsed back into the sheets. 
A loud whine left your throat, vocalizing your exhaustion to him. It’s been a long time since you got any action, the two of you didn’t even consummate on the wedding night, it was spent packing your stuff. 
You tried to shift your hips out of his grip but he only held on tighter, earning another whine. 
Soft kisses were pressed against your back as if he was trying to soothe you. It was pathetic how weak you were to them, instantly melting against the pillow. Maybe you can last one more round you thought as his length rubbed against your slit again. 
Thanks to the extra prep and lubrication from the last round your walls were much more accustomed to the stretch as Alhaitham entered once more. His beginning thrusts were much more slowed and controlled than before as you moaned softly into the pillow. 
This couldn’t last sadly, as his lust overtook him again and his hips once again slammed into you, forcing a choked moan from you. Using his hands, he held your body up as he pulled all the way out until the tip then cruelly forced it all back into you. 
You wanted to beg him to rest, but you also wanted to beg for more. Your sloppy cunt accepted all his punishing movements with gratitude as the wet walls thanked his length with kiss-like contractions. 
Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, mind absolutely blank, the pleasure must’ve melted your brain. All you could do was grip the tear-soaked pillow and let out moan after moan, the poor wall still getting beaten by the movement of the headboard. Tension building up once more in you. 
 Somewhere along the lines, you felt his teeth graze against your nape as his thrust picked up the pace once more, a sign that he was close to finishing. He was panting against the back of your neck as if he was searching for something. With a particularly harsh snap of his hips, he bites deeply into your nape as he releases a fresh batch of seed. 
“Why?”
You felt the frustrated growls against your skin as he bites again at a different angle. The pleasureful pain seems to have jump started your brain for just a second. 
‘Oh, he’s trying to bond.’ You felt Alhaitham’s soft locks brush against your shoulders as he continued his fruitless search. 
You were once reminded that you were just a Beta, unable to form a bond. He could bite your neck as many times as he wanted. His teeth can pierce the flesh until the skin was raw, but it would be all for naught. He’ll never get that satisfaction. You don’t have the glands to be bitten, to be marked, to be bonded with. 
You weren’t an Omega. There was now a heavy knot in your chest. 
You weren’t even sure what day it was, all you can recall is the hazy cycle of intense lust followed by a lull before the next round. During the lull, you did your damnedest to keep yourself and him hydrated, often having to lure him into the kitchen for some much-needed water and quick snacks. 
The air of the house was thick with the musk of sweat and desire, very nerve of yours fried from pleasure. 
Once again your body was pinned under his, legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips desperately snapped against yours. 
Every article of clothing has long since been removed, allowing your breasts to bounce along with every thrust. By now you were certain the shape of him was pounded into your cunt. The soaked sheets below clutched in your hands as if to ground you from floating up to cloud nine. 
The harsh pants and low growls above you increased in frequency in time with his thrusts. He must be close again. 
Fortunately, you’ve noticed that the breaks between each round have been getting longer and longer. A sign that the rut was ending. If you survive this you’ll bring offers to the sanctuary of surasthana to thank the archons for their blessing. Maybe after the feeling returns back to your legs of course. 
Suddenly your face was pushed into the side of his neck, the scent of sweat now stronger. 
“Bite.” His rugged voice commanded. 
Ah… he wanted you to mark him. With clumsy teeth, you felt around the smooth muscles. You can’t sense where his glands were so you just bit down at random along his neck. It was useless, you knew it, but still...
Alhaitham pushed himself eagerly against your teeth, encouraging you to bite harder with a growl. You obliged. 
His teeth ran along your raw neck, already covered in his bites and hickeys, searching for one last spot. Your jaw clamped down harder as his teeth sank into your neck one last time. Hips stilling as one final wave flooded into you, it was hard to tell when one orgasm ended and another began. 
Your hands found purchase around his back again, holding him close as you panted against his neck. Against yours a frustrated growl vibrated once more, his muddled mind confused as to why no bond has formed. 
“Why?”
There was that cold pierce of pain again. 
The large hand on the back of your head held your nose close against his searing skin. It could’ve just been your fried nerves, but as the darkness overtook your vision, you could’ve sworn there was a warm and opulent scent of wood and books.
 If you were reborn, in the next life could you recognize his scent?
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Your eyes opened up to blinding sunlight. Your body ached as if it had been through hell and back, bones threatening to turn into dust at any second. The large bed messy and only occupied by one body. Shifting your sight away from the stinging light, his empty pillow came into view. 
You weren’t sure what came over you, but even as your muscles screamed you pressed your nose into the cold pillow and inhaled. Nothing. Just sweat and disappointment. 
Just what were you hoping for? That a few nights of passion would birth a miracle? That you’d somehow turn into something you couldn’t be? In the end, you were still you. Those novels must’ve rotted your common sense, stupid. 
Bitter tears fell onto the pillow, you didn’t have the strength to hold back the sobs as they wrecked through your body. 
Yes, you were stupid. So stupid from the very start to believe that this could work. That maybe after a few more years, maybe at the seven-year mark, he could fall in love with you as well. 
The dream of his tender eyes looking into yours with love crumbled right there in front of you. 
 A cup clanged onto the desk in the room as footsteps quickly made their way to your side, a blurred figure knelt down. 
“Is your body hurting anywhere? I’ll take you to the Bimarstan.” Alhaitham gently sat your covered figure up, trying to see the extent of the situation. 
Your small hands pushed against his solid frame, his motion stilled as you refused to allow him to see your face. 
However, Alhaitham knows he didn’t have the right to. Not only did he invade your sacred personal space, but he did so like a wild beast. Not allowing your body to rest or replenish itself as he trapped you to the bed for almost four days. He deduced that you must be hurting, that you must be scared of him now, and that must be the reason behind your tears. 
Guilt was suffocating him. Those stupid urges, that stupid rut. His stupid hands refusing to let you go.
Throughout your whole marriage, you had put on the mask of independence, someone who did not need to lean on a husband for comfort. Yet here you were, bawling out your eyes in front of him like a child. Your façade has been cracked, tears soaking into his pillow and snot trickling down under his unwavering gaze. 
What was the look on his face right now? You couldn’t see through the mirage of tears blurring your sight, not that you had the courage to face him. Was it disappointment? Right now as he observed your vulnerable figure, did he feel lied to after all these years? Like he had just discovered the defects in a product? 
The freezing water of self-loathing, doubt, and insecurity filled you like a boat whose haul had been pierced by the jagged edges of an iceberg. You were drowning, your limbs kicking and thrashing with all their might trying to resurface. 
For a brief moment, your face bobbed above the crashing waves.
“Let's get a divorce.” 
Those were the only words you managed to choke out in the space between your sobs before your head disappeared under the murky waters once more. 
His whole body froze as he processed your words. Alhaitham had already deduced why you wanted to end this relationship, he had hurt and scarred you. Yet, like a child, he still wanted to clamber for more answers. 
“Why?” He said through clenched teeth, you couldn’t see it but his hands had a slight shake. 
“We’re not satisfied, Alhaitham. I-it’s not working, I-i can’t satisfy your requirements. I-i can’t make you happy, I-i can’t make you love… me.” Hiccups breaking up your sentences.
That was it, you spilled out all your secrets. Your lungs and throat hurting as if you just pushed salt water out of them. 
Alhaitham’s hands were balled up so tightly his nails broke the skin on his palms. 
So, you weren’t happy. He couldn’t make you happy. He felt as if he had dropped down to the tier of a fool. A fool who didn’t know how to make those bitter tears of yours stop. 
He released you. 
You felt his presence disappear from your side. The touch of warmth he provides was now gone as coldness fully engulfs your whole being. The tears just wouldn’t stop. Is this what those heartbroken sobs actually felt like? Why did you ever think this was something to be desired? You truly were an idiot. 
You weren’t sure how long had passed, a few seconds or a few minutes, but his presence returned back to your side. He looked as if he had something in his hands. Were they divorce papers? Ah, Alhaitham was a man who always had a plan for everything. Did he have a premonition that this marriage was doomed from the start? How long has he had them?
Alhaitham didn’t feel like he had the right to touch you. However, he needed to do something to make you look at him. Please, just look at him. His large hands tenderly grasped yours as if they were made from glass. You still hid your face from him.
“I won’t bind you to a life that brings you unhappiness. But.. You have to tell me” His voice wasn’t as steady as he wanted it. 
“If you want strolls through the market, tell me. If you want to be woken up with sweet whispers, tell me. If you want to hold hands across a date night table, then tell me. You have to tell me what will make you happy.” He wasn’t sure if those were your unfulfilled desires or his.
You could only tighten your grip on his hands as you sobbed harder. 
Your statement from before was incorrect. Alhaitham is also at fault for this pain you were going through. If there was one feeling that was just as addictive as love, it would be hope. Please, please don’t give false hope. 
“I-i’ll disrupt your-r life…” You managed to choke out.
His thumb gently stroke the back of your knuckles.
“How could you ever disrupt something you’re a part of?” 
Your hesitant eyes finally met his teal gaze, his eyes soft as opposed to their usual stonewall stare. With the walls down, you were given a glimpse into the whirling emotions behind them. Endearment, sincerity, and hurt danced along the green-blue irises. 
“As for your last reason, here. I should’ve just given this to you directly.” His hands let go of yours, picking up the item he had brought.
He handed over the book you had placed back on your bookshelf a few days earlier, the one he had left his note on. So, he didn’t have divorce papers prepared? Your trembling hands accepted it, and through your teary eyes, you finally noticed the torn-out green and gold note contrasting between the cream pages. 
Tenderly, you unfolded the piece of paper retrieved from the book. Quickly blinking to clear your eyes from excess tears. In the neat script of Alhaitham’s handwriting: 
 ‘Love born in the heart as opposed to Love born in the brain:
 When one loves at first sight or goes looking for love, then one is essentially just attracted to someone for the sake of being with someone. Not looking objectively at any warning signs or relationship flaws one has with someone. If there are any issues, the bias of infatuation blinds you to them. 
So that's loving with the heart, based solely on carefree addictive emotion, even though it feels stronger and more enthusiastic on the surface. 
Love from the brain is more logical and objective. You take the time to understand a person, seeing them for them with unbiased eyes. You understand them thoroughly and can maturely and objectively work through the turbulence of life together. Individuals who set aside precious time to manually repair creaks, maintaining the structural integrity of a home that shelters their affections. 
With the diligence of a conservator preserving ancient scripts on papyrus that should have been disintegrated long ago. 
The latter rather than the former describes the bond forged between my wife and I.’ 
Your grip crumpled the side of the paper.
“What does this mean?” Hesitation in your voice as tears blurred your vision of his teal eyes. 
“I love you.” He confessed. Three words have been overdue for years.
‘Don’t be filled with false hope’ Your mind echoed.
 “I’m not an Omega…”
“That’s not a requirement for love.”
That was it. It was as if you’ve been waiting all this time for him to say those words. The words of affirmation you didn’t know you needed. The key to free you from the cage of insecurity you’ve built for yourself. 
Your feet now touched the warm sandy bottom as air rushed back into your lungs.
  It looks like you’ve figured it out. Regardless of what definition of love has been pushed by external forces, these feelings he holds for you are objectively pure and true love. His hands tenderly took yours away from its grip on the paper. If you wanted him to, Alhaitham will spend the rest of his life proving it to you. He’ll conduct every experiment and collect all the data points to present to you. 
How silly, a red thread spun by two pairs of hands, created through undying trust, respect, and admiration had already tied the two of you in a bond. The love you were trying so hard for had always been right in front of you for five years.
The blanket draped behind your head resembled a wedding veil as the fabric folded and gathered around your trembling body. ‘Beautiful’ He thought. 
The room was a mess, sheets and clothes strewn all across the floor. The musk of lust still hung heavy in the air, the residue of sweat and other fluids still clinging to skin. Your hair was all over the place, tears still pouring from your eyes, his hair was no better. But in this moment, there was nothing more Alhaitham wanted to do than this: 
“Will you take me, Alhaitham, as your lawfully married husband? To love me through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain?” 
Sobs were still wracking through your body, words unable to form in your mouth but you were nodding your head enthusiastically. Your hands felt small firmly holding onto his larger ones. 
“I, Alhaitham, will take you as my lawfully married wife. I will love you through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain… I do.” 
It was a silly sight to behold, but in this moment as he finally sees a smile break out on your face, it means the world to him. 
There’s a saying from a well-known poet from Fontaine it goes as follows:
‘Love is being stupid together.’ 
And clearly, the two of you have been very stupid. Oh so stupidly in love.  
Fin~
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Authors note:
The long quote was taken from Stendhal’s The Red and The Black
The last quote is from Paul Valery
Also communication is v important to any relationship, people can’t read minds Alhaitham. If you made it this far, thank you and hope you enjoyed!
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS. 
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Text
SKZ DRABBLE-OT8
The one where the fire department is called. And Nirvana might not just be a word on a hoodie. or The twenty-sixth installment of the Skz!Pack Prequel series.
Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, SKZ!Pack, Pack!prequel, ot8, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, skz smut, skz fluff, skz angst, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, abo, a/b/o, skz abo, alpha beta omega, femreader, poly!skz
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Light Smut
Title: Emergency Stop
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12 Hours Earlier
Chan sighs heavily and leans back in his chair, spinning a few aimless circles as he lets his gaze wander across the tiled ceiling of the student studio. 
He listens to the sound of fingers clicking across keyboards, the quiet hum of equipment, and then announces finally, to no one in particular, just to get it off his chest, “I think she’s avoiding me.” Hongjoong pulls his headphones off his ears, letting them drop down around his neck, as he turns from his current project to stare at Chan in exasperation, one dark brow arched. 
“I think that’s a little dramatic, mate.” 
“Wellllllll-” Changbin hems from the other side of the room, a grimace going across his features, as he swivels in his chair to face them, not quite meeting Chan’s gaze. 
Chan bolts upright, his voice loud with triumph. “Ah ha! I knew it!” 
“Oh my goood.” Hongjoong groans, scrubbing at his face with his hands, before he must decide that they’re not worth the trouble, turning back to his computer and pulling his headphones back up- on both ears this time. 
Changbin’s lips twist to the side in an obvious guilt ridden expression, his dark eyes finally meeting Chan’s. 
Chan feels his stomach drop as he regards his best friend and packmate’s worry. 
“What?” He asks, suddenly breathless, leaning forward in the office chair, his alpha suddenly on high alert. “What did I do? How did I fuck it up? You gotta tell me how to fix it, Bin, it’s fucking with my head.” 
Changbin reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, Chan recognizes the nervous gesture, and clears his throat, his eyes darting around the room, as if trying to focus on anything except the man in front of him. 
“You didn’t do anything, hyung. I swear to god, but I can’t tell you anything else, because (Y/N) will fucking eat me alive.” 
“She is pretty fucking scary.” Hongjoong chimes in once more, glancing over his shoulder at Chan, his fingers paused on the mouse. “Almost in Seonghwa’s league. Almost.” 
Chan glances back to Changbin, who is nodding avidly along in agreement with what the other alpha is saying. 
Chan’s alpha is growling at his mate’s resistance, at the way he’s holding back, even if he knows how to fix this whole mess, but he takes in a deep, steadying breath, and clamps his hands in his lap, willing the angry wolf back down. 
“Bin.” He tries again, glancing back to the other man, his voice steady, calm, imploring. “You gotta tell me something. If I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t fix it, and I’m going crazy over here.” Changbin’s chest heaves with a sigh, and then he swallows, Chan watches the way his Adam's apple bobs, as he looks up to the ceiling, as if for some form of silent approval. 
Finally, he sighs again, audibly this time, and rakes a hand agitatedly through his dark hair. 
“Fine.” 
Chan feels his entire body tense, waiting on what comes next. 
He can sense a headache starting to pound to life behind his left eye. 
He doesn’t know if it’s because of the current situation, or because he hasn’t really seen you much over the last week, and his alpha is taking direct note of the loss of contact. 
Changbin shakes his head slightly to himself, as if he can’t believe what he’s going to say, going to reveal, and then he grits out, “She’s worried about something she said.” 
Chan’s mind races, going over every tiny interaction the two of you have had in the last week and a half. 
Nothing significant comes to mind. 
“What?” He asks, puzzled, as if Changbin can reveal the clues to him. 
Instead, the other alpha gives a half hearted shrug. 
“I dunno, hyung. She wouldn’t tell me anything besides that. I’m sorry, man.” 
Chan shakes his head, still analyzing every time you’ve spoken, or interacted, since he saw you during Jeongin’s heat. 
Honestly, it wasn’t much, considering you’d been avoiding him at all costs. 
He manages a weak grin, and stands, walking over to pat Changbin on the back. 
“Nah, it’s fine, mate. Thanks for telling me that much. I’ll figure it out.” 
Changbin glances up at him, expression unreadable, and gives a curt nod, already reaching for his headphones again. 
“She feels things really fucking deeply. Deeper than the rest of us. Sometimes she just needs a little space to figure it out. But she cares about you, hyung. A lot. She wouldn’t be this fucking worried if she didn’t.” 
Chan grips his shoulder a little tighter, a silent sign of acknowledgement, and goes back to his own work station. 
He knows Changbin’s right. Knows he speaks from experience. 
So why is his stomach still in knots? 
*******
Fuck. 
Your eyes dart around the small kitchen, helplessly looking for an escape route, before they settle on the two men sitting at the table, staring you down. 
You clear your throat, and try to work up an easy smile. 
“You were talking about me? I’m flattered Min.” 
Minho’s smirk widens, growing sharp and dangerous, as if he knows exactly what you’re trying to do. 
You’re sure he does. 
He pats the chair beside him, in the middle of he and Chan. 
“Have a seat.” 
You can’t think of literally anything worse in this moment, your skin already hot underneath Chan’s stare, your fingers itching at your side, your alpha begging you to please get the fuck out of here already.
You take a step backward, back toward the safety of the hallway. 
“That’s okay, I actually was just leaving to go on a run.” 
Minho’s brow arches a little higher. 
“At eleven PM?” 
There is amusement in his tone, as if he knows he’s caught you in an outright lie. 
You give a little shrug, and take another step toward the door. 
“I do my best running at night. Must be the wolf in me.” 
You don’t dare look at Chan, not when he’s right here, staring at you, expression unreadable. He hasn’t said one word since you entered the room, and you can practically feel your body withering from the shame of his heavy gaze. 
It’s like he can see right through you, and you need to get out of here, right now. 
“Anyway-” You’re halfway into the hallway now, the front door, your shining savior, within sight. You give the men a little wave and another unconvincing, weak smile. “-gotta go. Have fun.” 
You dart for the front door, nearly bowling an emerging Jisung over, sending his popcorn flying. 
“Hey!” He protests with a glare in your direction, but you don’t stop, tugging on your sneakers with record speed, before you barrel out the door of the apartment. 
“Sorry, Jisungie!” You call over your shoulder, because you are, but honestly, in times of crisis-
You can breathe easier out here, in the quiet darkness of the dorm hallway, even though you’re still practically jogging, headed directly for the elevator. 
You’re making a beeline for your dorm a few floors down, and you’re staying locked up in there until Chan decides to leave. 
Well, not leave, because he lives here too, but at least until he decides to go back to his own kitchen and stop talking to Minho about whatever the hell they were discussing. 
You slide through the gap of the doors in the elevator before they’re fully open, and pound the second floor button a few more times than necessary, catching your breath as you wait for the doors to close. 
They’re almost down to a sliver, and you think you’ve gotten away with your hasty escape, when an arm shoots through, bouncing them back open, and Chan steps into view. 
Immediately, the breath you’ve just regained leaves your body, as he joins you in the elevator, the doors hissing shut quietly behind him. 
There’s silence, the space suddenly feeling smaller than normal, as you stare him down warily from your corner. 
“What-” You start to say, in an attempt at least to fill the uncomfortable quiet, but Chan beats you to it.
“Why are you avoiding me?” He demands, dark eyes flashing, as the elevator jolts into motion. 
You brace yourself against the wall, your mouth dropping open at his serious, commanding tone. 
“I’m not avoiding you-” You start to protest weakly, the lie sounding unconvincing to even your own ears. 
“Bullshit” Chan cuts you off once more with a growl, taking a menacing step toward you, and suddenly, you know, you’re not dealing with Christopher Bang any longer, you’re dealing with his alpha.
His irrational, incredibly pissed off and slighted alpha. 
Fuck. 
The elevator feels tiny now, saturated with the scent of thunder, and you swallow hard, your own alpha flattening its ears in response. 
The sound of a ding signals the arrival of the next floor, and before you can make a move to do something, anything, Chan reaches behind him without a glance, and slams his palm down over the emergency stop button. 
The elevator grinds to a sudden halt with an eerie shriek of gears, and then there is silence, all movement ceased. 
Your mouth falls open once more, but you feel your own anger flare to life in the pit of your stomach, rising to meet his. 
“Chan, what the fuck do you think you’re doing-” 
He stalks toward you, and you shrink back into the corner, the cool metal of the hand bar digging into your back. 
“Exactly what I should’ve done when this whole nonsense started.” He growls, caging you in as he puts his hands on either side of your head, fingers digging into the slick, cool brushed metal of the elevator’s walls as he glares down at you. 
You’re choking on the storm now, your heart pounding against the wall of your ribs. 
But you hold your ground regardless, lifting your head as defiance flashes across your gaze, and frost starts to crackle outward from you, freezing the storm. 
“Oh? And what’s that? Emergency stop an elevator in a little temper tantrum?” 
His dark eyes flash, and a muscle ticks in his jaw, but his voice is steady when he responds. 
“If I have to trap you in a room with me to get you to talk over things like an adult, like my mate, then yes.” 
You scoff, looking away from his burning gaze. 
“There’s nothing to talk about.” 
“That’s not what Changbin said.” 
Your head jerks up, your angry gaze meeting his. 
“Fuck Changbin.” 
“I do, and I enjoy it.” Chan fires right back without missing a beat, crowding you into the corner further, his scowl deepening. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, is it?” 
“I’m not. Avoiding you.” You grind out through gritted teeth, your jaw clicking with the immense pressure of keeping your rage back. 
It’s a blatant lie, and you both know it. 
Chan’s eyes darken, dripping golden around the pupils now, and when he parts his lips, his teeth flash in what’s almost a snarl, dangerous and threatening. 
You can practically feel his alpha’s teeth poised warningly over your exposed throat. 
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry before. 
“You think-” He begins, and his voice has dropped dangerously, a menacing growl in the back of his throat, a rumble in his chest. “-that even if I was stupid enough not to notice, he wouldn’t?” 
Your lips part, ready to spit something back, but something about his words ring true in the hollow pit of your stomach. 
He’s right. You could avoid him all you wanted, but your alpha, and his, would know. They were the ones who were suffering because of the distance, keening for their mates. 
Fuck, if it was hell for the two of you, it was fucking torture for them. 
Chan’s gaze hasn’t wavered from your own, not once, and when he speaks again, his words are just above a murmur, and you don’t miss the way his breath trembles on his next inhale. 
“I can’t fucking sleep, (Y/N.) I can’t eat, I can’t study, I can’t produce, I can’t do anything, because every single waking moment is spent trying to figure out what I did wrong and how to fix it.” 
You feel guilt drop like a hot pound of lead into the pit of your stomach. 
You lean your head back on the wall behind you, and meet his gaze head on, your voice quiet, but steady, when you reply back, “It wasn’t anything you did.” 
Confusion starts to pool into his expression, easing some of the anger, and you feel your own fury start to melt away like sand with the tide, leaving your body tired and heavy. 
“Then why?” He questions back, gaze boring into your own. 
You sigh, and glance behind him to the still blinking emergency stop button, wondering how much time you have before someone notices the elevator hasn’t moved and calls the fire department to rescue the two of you. 
That’s all you need right now. Better hurry this up. 
“I said something.” You announce without preamble, shifting your gaze to meet his own once more, sudden fear rising like bile in your throat. You force through the feeling, and swallow hard. “The day you asked me for help during Jeongin’s presentation.” Chan watches you closely, silently, and you give a little shrug and half a laugh-it’s awkward, and fleeting, and leaves the space in between you feeling heavier than before. 
“And I wasn’t sure if what I’d said-what I’d admitted-made you feel weird. I was scared I’d messed shit up, and I wanted to give you space to deal, if that was the case.” 
Chan cocks his head-the motion is endearing, like a puppy-and you resist the urge to reach up and push some of the curls back off his forehead with your fingers. 
Confusion is clear on every inch of his features now. 
“What did you-” He starts to ask, and then something clicks behind his expression, his eyes going wide and his jaw going slack. “Oh, you mean the love thing.” “Oh my god.” You groan, covering your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up. “Do we have to call it that?” 
When you peek back through your fingers, Chan is smiling, his lips pulled crookedly to one side, the gold fading slowly from his gaze. 
“That’s why you were avoiding me? You were worried about that?” 
“Yes!” You shriek,a little bit louder than necessary, and Chan’s grin widens even more. “I mean, that’s a fuck of a thing to announce to someone out of the blue, when they’re already dealing with a ton of shit and I didn’t know how you’d take it.” 
Chan tilts his head, regarding you. “But you’ve already told me you love me. Once before. Remember?” 
You stare at him like he’s just grown another head, and then it clicks. 
“That didn’t count!” You cough out, choking on your own spit, waving your hands wildly as you try to regain your breath. “That was like a post fuck thing, I was feeling sappy,  I just threw it out there to everyone in general, you guys had just saved me and given me the best orgasm of my life and it wasn’t-” “True?” Chan finishes for you, though there’s no hurt on his face, only slight amusement. 
“No!” You protest, growing angry again as you grow more flustered by the second. “It was true, it just wasn’t so-”
“Direct?” Chan tries once again, watching you closely. 
“Yeah.” You finish helplessly, your shoulders slumping. 
Chan gives a little laugh, and slides one of his large hands down the elevator wall to grip your chin in his fingers, raising your embarrassed gaze to his once more. 
His expression softens, the corners of his mouth settling into an affectionate smile, as you struggle a little and try to resist his gaze. 
“Baby. Look at me.” 
You finally do as he says, reluctantly meeting his eyes, and he arches a brow at you. 
The air between you is heavy with ice and storm, but it doesn’t feel so oppressive now. 
In fact, the headache you’ve been battling all week seems to be miraculously gone. 
Chan’s lips twitch, and you huff at him a little, folding your arms across your chest at his obvious amusement in your sheepishness. 
“Listen. If it hasn’t been incredibly fucking clear since the first time I met you that I’m head over heels for you, then I must not be doing enough to prove it to you.” 
Your own lips twitch into the hint of a smile then, and you begrudgingly uncross your arms from your chest. 
“No, you’re doing enough. Trust me. Following me around like a little lost puppy when I openly hated your guts for the first couple of weeks definitely sold it.”
Chan laughs, and the sound sends warmth cascading down your body. 
Your tired muscles feel a little more manageable now. 
 Chan leans in, and rests his forehead against yours. 
You take a moment to breathe him in, and then he murmurs, breath warm on your face, “Now, say it again, but don’t run away this time.” 
You smirk, keeping your eyes closed as you whisper back, “There’s not really anywhere for me to go. You saw to that.” 
He chuckles, breath fanning across your skin, but doesn’t move to pull away. 
You take in a deep breath, and let your hands skim up the warm length of his arms, letting your fingers take him in for a moment, before you breathe out, “I love you, Christopher Bang. Even though I hated your guts, and fucked up a couple of huge things, and you trapped me in an elevator with you-twice, I might add, against my will-I love you, and I don’t think that’s ever not been true.” 
Chan opens his eyes, and you stare into the golden flecks of his irises, before he pulls back, and his lips curve into the start of a smirk. 
“Now, was that so hard?” 
You swing an arm out and hit him lightly in the chest, giving him a fake glare. 
“Say it back.” 
He grins, and leans in, caging you with his forearms once more against the cool metal behind your head, his nose brushing your own. 
“I fucking love you, (Y/N), I always have. Even when you hated my guts. In fact, in retrospect, I think that made me love you even more.” 
You giggle, and Chan covers your mouth with his without warning, swallowing the sound. 
You let your hands trace up his back and into his hair, fingers tangling in his curls, as he flicks his tongue between the seam of your lips and into your waiting mouth. 
The sharp points of his canines graze and tug at your bottom lip, and you moan, breaking the kiss as you let your head fall back to the wall behind you, breathing heavily, as Chan presses kisses down your jaw, the column of your throat, tickling and teasing your skin as he nibbles your collarbone, traces your scent gland with his tongue. 
“They’re gonna send the fire department after us, you know.” You gasp out, gaze flicking beyond him once more to the flashing button on the wall, as he drops to his knees in front of you, fingers finding your hip bones. 
Chan looks up at you, lips red and kiss bitten, a grin stretching the pink skin over white teeth. 
He arches a brow. 
“Lucky for you, baby, they’re not incredibly known for their fast response time, and I’m a fairly quick worker.” 
You reach out a hand to stop him as he reaches for the closure of your pants, and when he looks up at you in confusion, your lips lift into a smirk. 
“What if I told you I wanted to take my time?” 
His lips slowly lift into a wicked grin of his own. 
“I think we can make that happen.” 
********
Your apartment is closer than Chan’s (by one floor, but hey, a floor is a floor), so after apologizing to some severely annoyed alphas who were waiting on the stalled elevator, you push through your front door and Chan doesn’t wait a second before he pounces. 
He backs you against the wall of the hallway, his hands dropping to your waist once more, his mouth already on yours. 
His tongue swipes around the inside of your mouth, and you groan into him. “About that taking our time thing-” 
Chan chuckles huskily, the sound going right to your core, and if you weren’t already incredibly wet before, you sure as hell are now. 
There’s a quiet sound behind the two of you and you freeze, leaning up to glance over Chan’s shoulder, suddenly on full alert. 
“Jeongin?” 
Chan follows your gaze, your mouth open in shock, to the omega standing beside the front door, waving sheepishly to the two of you, his cheeks almost as red as his hair. 
“Hey, noona.” 
You slip out beneath Chan’s arm and approach him, surprise clearly etched across your face. 
“What are you doing here?” 
“I was waiting for you.” Jeongin gives a little shrug, but he won’t meet your eyes, embarrassment clear on his pretty features. “You said later earlier and I thought-” 
Oh. Fuck. 
You let out a sigh, suddenly feeling more than a little remorseful. “Sorry, Innie. I was hanging out at Minho’s and then Chan was there-” 
Jeongin glances down, scuffing his shoe into the worn carpet. “No, it’s fine, noona. I was just gonna sneak out when I heard the two of you, but I should’ve known I had no chance when up against a wolf’s hearing.” 
His hand reaches for the doorknob, and without thinking, you reach out and stop him. 
“Wait-” You swallow, his large, dark eyes flicking to you in surprise. “I mean. You can join us? If you want?” 
Jeongin stares at you, his pupils huge. 
“What?” Chan approaches, his hand going on your shoulder as he addresses Jeongin. “Yeah, Innie. It’s up to you, but we don’t mind-” 
You notice the way Chan reaches up to rub his neck as he speaks, as if he’s just as nervous over this as Jeongin is. 
“Don’t feel any pressure.” You hurry to reassure the omega standing in front of you. “I know you don’t have much experience, and one alpha on a good day is a lot, so if this is too overwhelming-”
Jeongin bites his lip and glances between the two of you. Finally, he says hesitantly, voice barely above a whisper, “I think I’d like that. But-” He takes in a nervous breath. “Can I just watch for a little bit first? Would that be okay?” 
You smirk. “Oh, so you’re one of those?” 
Jeongin instantly flushes, and you rush to reassure him you were only teasing, looping an arm around his shoulders as you lead him back toward your room, Chan following on your heels. 
“I’m just kidding, baby. There’s nothing wrong with a little voyeurism. Minho loves to watch.” 
“He also loves to boss.” Chan says with a slight smirk, as he steps ahead of you and pushes open the closed door, allowing you both to pass first into the room. 
“That he does.” You laugh a little, and then turn to Jeongin. “Okay, pup. Pick your poison.”
Jeongin glances around, clearly still a little shy given the circumstances, and then he settles into the desk chair in the corner of your room, opposite the bed. He pulls his knees up to his chest and nods. “Okay. Just pretend I’m not here.”
Chan has come to stand against your back, tickling his fingers up and down your spine, brushing his nose across the juncture of your throat, and at Jeongin’s words, he groans, and you feel him press into you from behind. He’s still clearly worked up from before, the momentary pause hasn’t even phased him. 
“That’s gonna be pretty hard to do when you smell so fucking good, pup.” 
Jeongin looks wide eyed at Chan’s throaty admission, and leans over to not so subtly sniff his own shirt. “I don’t smell anything crazy.” 
Chan growls in his throat, and you smirk, reaching back to palm him through his jeans. He bucks his hips up into your hand, his fingers digging into your shoulders. 
“That’s because you’re used to how you smell, but you’re kinda blooming, Innie. It means your omega has sensed the presence of alphas-pack alphas-and is desperately trying to get our attention.” 
“Oh.” Jeongin murmurs, looking suddenly small. “I’m sorry, I can leave-” He makes a move to get up. 
“Sit down.” You command, and his pupils dilate at the sound of your timber, but he does as he’s told. You soften your tone a little. “You’re fine, Innie. You’re not going to distract from anything. If anything, your scent is going to make this all the more enjoyable.” 
Chan’s teeth graze over your scent gland, and you glance back at him, arching your brow. “Eager, are we?” 
Chan growls again, the sound a low rumble against your back, and snakes his hand around your waist, letting his fingers find the inside of your thighs. He applies pressure with the palm of his hand, and you arch your back in response, letting out a quick hitch of breath. 
“Very.” He replies, licking a stripe up the side of your neck with his tongue, tasting you. 
You turn to face him, your eyes flashing gold to match his own, but before you fully lose yourself in him, you glance once more at the omega over your shoulder, saying in a soft, serious tone, “Innie, if you want us to stop at any point, say something, and we will. Without hesitation.” 
He nods. “Yes, noona.” His eyes are wide, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he watches Chan pull you toward the bed. 
“Sit down.” Chan orders you, much like you had commanded Jeongin earlier, and you do so, but not without a slight smirk in his direction. 
“I’m not going to make this easy.” You warn, settling onto the edge of the bed, your expression wicked. 
Chan knocks apart your knees and stands between your legs, a look of annoyance on his features. One hand tangles into your hair and he yanks your head back, forcing you to look at him, as the other hand comes to loosely wrap around the front of your throat. 
You feel your pulse quicken under his hold.
“Don’t play that game, pet. Not right now. You already made me wait far too fucking long already.” Chan lifts his lips into the hint of a snarl, and the flash of his sharp canines has your inner thighs slick with want. 
He slides his hand slowly up the column of your throat, finally letting his fingers find purchase beneath your chin, tilting your head back even further. 
“But you know that already, don’t you?” He murmurs, staring down at you with something akin to a hungry predator in his dark gaze. 
You swallow beneath the hold he has on your throat, and arch a brow pettily in response. “Care to remind me?” 
Chan’s lips curl, and another animalistic growl slips through the barrier of his teeth. 
You hear Jeongin let out a sharp exhale from the corner, but you don’t look over.
Your entire body is electrified, waiting for Chan’s next move. 
“I could remind you who you belong to-” Chan muses, eyes flashing golden as he stares at you. “-but I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?” 
He leans down, and without warning, slips a hand down underneath the band of your pants. 
His fingers immediately touch your heat, and just by the look of satisfaction that flickers across his features, you can tell he feels just how wet you are already. 
He pulls back, and holds up his slick, glistening fingers for you to see with a cock of his head. 
“I think you already know.” He repeats in a low tone, advancing toward you now, backing you onto the bed, until he’s straddling you, leaning over your prone form. “Don’t you?” 
“Yes.” You breathe out, tired of playing already, tired of staying away from him. 
“Yes what?” He prods, lips curling up into the hint of a dangerous smirk, as he moves to strip you of your clothes. 
“Yes, daddy.” 
Chan freezes, his pupils blowing at the nickname, and a muscle in his jaw ticks, as if he’s silently fighting himself for control, his hands curling into fists beside you on the bed. 
You openly smirk up at him. “Oh, I knew you’d like that one. You know, given your certain proclivities.” 
His irises are completely drowning in gold now, his lips parted slightly as he stares down at you, his breath coming in harsh pants, his chest heaving. 
Still smirking, you roll your head to the side and find Jeongin in your line of sight, arching a brow in the omega’s direction. 
“Did you catch that, Innie? When he was fucking you through your presentation?” Your voice is smooth like butter, dripping with taunting. You’re playing with the alpha on top of you now, and you all know it. 
Jeongin stares at you, his stare moving slowly to Chan and then back again. “Catch what, noona?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been holding his breath. 
You shift so you’re staring back up at Chan, looming over you, and your lips tick upward into a dangerous expression meant to goad. 
“Our Channie here has a little obsession-a fantasy, if you will-with breeding. He probably went easy on you the first time he knotted you, because you’re inexperienced, but he just loves to fill you up when he fucks you, loves the idea of stretching you with his seed and then his pups, hm, Channie?” 
A low growl rolls from Chan’s chest, and you hear Jeongin’s breath catch. 
The smell of cinnamon is overpowering. 
Chan pins your hands above your head in one smooth, quick motion, and leans over to bite down-hard-on your scent gland in the curvature of your shoulder. 
Not hard enough to mark or draw blood, but damn near close. 
Your body goes limp beneath him, your mind going blank, your jaw slack, and suddenly, any of the teasing from before is long gone, and the only thought is-alpha, alpha, alpha. 
He pulls back, licking his lips with a wicked smirk, and fuck it, he knows he’s won already. 
“I should punish you for teasing me, pet, but lucky for you, I’m far to eager to feel you squeezing every last drop out of me to make myself wait any longer.”
And without warning, he leans over and sinks his teeth into your muscle once again, sheathing himself fully inside of you in the same frantic motion. 
You cry out, the sensations hitting you all at once, and arch your body up into his hold. 
He hadn’t prepped you, but honestly, you were wet enough that he slid in without much resistance, and the friction was honestly close to pushing you over the edge already. 
Chan growls, the sound sending goosebumps over your skin, muffled by his hold on your shoulder, and thrusts wildly a few times, like an animal gone mad with desire. 
You let him, your fingers scrabbling at his skin, and letting your head roll to the side to give him more access to your neck, you catch sight of Jeongin, watching the two of you with something clearly hot, but tentative, on his features. 
Reaching a hand out, you splay it across Chan’s bare chest, stopping his movements, and he releases his teeth’s hold on you, as you say quietly to get his attention, “Chan.” 
He’s panting, but he stills, and the feeling of him filling you without moving is enough to drive you crazy, but you keep your focus on Jeongin as you hold out your free hand. 
“Done watching, Innie? Wanna join in?” 
The omega swallows, you see the way his throat bobs, and then he stands, looking suddenly nervous, but you can tell he’s intrigued and more than a little hot and bothered at this point if the tent in his pants is any indication. 
He approaches the bed, and swallows again. 
“You don’t have to.” You say softly, taking his hand in yours and rubbing his fingers. “I know this can be overwhelming, but if you want to-” 
He nods, glancing down at you, his eyes trailing down the length of Chan’s body atop yours, before he meets your gaze once more with a look of determination. 
“No, I want to.” 
“Good boy.” You praise, before you tug him forward and onto the bed beside you and Chan. You jerk your head at his clothes. “Take those off.” 
He does so quickly, and then sits back down beside the two of you once more, looking unsure. “Now what?” 
You give him an encouraging smile. “Now, you’re gonna kneel above me and slide yourself into my mouth.” You open your lips and lean your head back to show him, careful not to jostle Chan. 
Jeongin’s eyes go wide. “What? But what if I hurt you-?” 
A raspy chuckle leaves Chan’s lips, and he gives the omega a soft look. “You’re not gonna hurt her, pup. I promise.”
“You’re not.” You reiterate, as Jeongin finally takes a breath and moves to kneel above your head. You glance up at him, as you wrap your hands around the back of his thighs. “And besides, now is as good a time as any to talk about safe words and safety gestures. I won’t be able to talk, obviously, but if I need you to stop at any time, I’ll tap you twice, like this, okay?”
 I tap the back of his thigh with two fingers hard, twice. 
Jeongin nods, staring down at my head between his knees. “Okay.” 
“Okay.” You repeat back, parting your lips once more. “Whenever you’re ready.” Jeongin hesitates briefly, glancing to Chan, who gives him a little nod, and then he leans forward and places the tip of himself into your mouth. 
You adjust slightly to allow easier access as he slowly slides between your lips. 
You see the way his body tenses as he feels your tongue on him, but he still gives you a worried sort of glance. “Okay?” 
You nod slightly, and hum a sound of affirmation, before you let yourself suck, creating suction with your tongue. 
Jeongin instantly groans, his head falling back and his hands scrabbling to tangle in your hair. 
Chan takes that as his cue to move again as well, and he resumes his thrusting from before, his hips moving more rhythmically now. 
You feel Jeongin hit the back of your throat, and oh god, he tastes just like he smells, and fuck, with Chan moving like that-
You can feel the muscles in your body tensing, readying for release, as you keep working Jeongin with your mouth and Chan shunts your body over and over with his. 
“Fuck, noona, I-” Jeongin starts to say, and then he’s shuddering, and you feel him release, tasting the sweetness on your tongue. 
“Fuck.” Chan swears, watching Jeongin come for you, and then he leans forward, his sweaty skin sticking to yours as he rests his forehead on your chest, fingers digging into your wrists, and roars through his own release. 
Everything whites out for a moment as your own body uncoils, and you have to remind yourself to breathe, as Jeongin slowly pulls himself from your mouth and Chan lies on top of you, catching his breath. 
“Fuck.” Jeongin repeats, staring down at you, his eyes full of awe. “Fuck.” 
You give a weak little laugh and reach out to brush Chan’s sweaty hair back from his forehead. He glances up at you, his chin on your chest, and releases his hold on your wrists, one of his hands moving to your jaw and pinching your mouth open so he can look inside. 
A small smirk quirks the corner of his mouth as he says hoarsely, “A shame to waste all that perfectly good come on your mouth, baby.” You grin down at him, wincing slightly as he pulls himself out of you with a long, low groan. 
He flops down beside you on the bed, covering his face with his arm as his chest still heaves. 
On your other side, Jeongin collapses down as well, his hand finding yours, even though his eyes are closed. 
After a few moments of silence, Chan pushes himself up with effort, and scoots to the edge of the bed. He waves a finger between you and Jeongin’s prone forms. 
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” 
You give a sound of assent, but don’t open your eyes. 
Soon though, you hear the sound of his footsteps padding back, and he nudges you with his hand. 
“Drink this, baby.” You crack open your eyes, and take the bottle of water he offers you, passing the other one to Jeongin, who guzzles it down immediately. 
Chan slides back onto the bed between your legs, and begins to wipe down the sticky skin of the inside of your thighs with the warm rag, cleaning up all the residual juices that were left behind. 
You relax into his gentle motions, and when he’s finished, he turns to Jeongin, arching a brow at the younger boy. 
“Can I?” He asks, and Jeongin hesitates, before he nods slightly, spreading his legs for Chan to clean him up as well. 
You watch them-how gentle Chan is, how trusting Jeongin is-and you feel warm from head to toe. 
Warm and content. 
When he’s finished with Jeongin, you finally sit up and reach for the rag, motioning for Chan to lay back on the bed. 
“Okay, now you.” 
He opens his mouth, as if to protest, but Jeongin pushes him down gently with a hand to his chest and a small smile. 
“C’mon, hyung. It’s only fair.” 
Chan rolls his eyes, but lets you wash him over with the warm rag anyway, and you can tell, by the slight hint of pink on his cheeks, that he enjoys the tender touches just as much as you do. 
When everyone is cleaned up, you motion for Jeongin to snuggle down between the two of you, your arm looped comfortably across him, your fingers making nonsensical patterns on the warm, bare skin of Chan’s chest. 
Leaning over to press a kiss to the tip of Jeongin’s nose, you say softly, “I love you.” Jeongin glances up at you with large eyes, and his lips curve into a smile. 
“I love you too, noona. And you, hyung.” 
You grin and press another kiss to the top of his soft, red hair, before he glance across to Chan, who is watching you affectionately, a small smile on his lips. 
He arches a brow at you and whispers over the top of Jeongin’s head, “I’m proud of you. You’re getting better.” 
You grin back at him, and reach up with your free hand to cup his jaw, before you squish Jeongin between you as you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. 
“I love you, Bang Chan.” 
He tugs you forward for another kiss, and Jeongin whines slightly at being squished. 
“I love you too.” ********************************
“So, I’m guessing the two of you made up?” Changbin remarks offhandedly, leaning against the desk as he eyes you with an arch of his brow and a smirk on his lips. 
You give a little shrug, sifting through Chan’s papers to find the one you’re looking for. “I guess. How can you tell?” You stop, glancing back at him with a narrowing of your eyes. 
Changbin grins, his eyes dropping pointedly to the large black hoodie you wear. “That’s his favorite hoodie.” 
You hold out the heavy fabric so you can see the Nirvana logo printed across the front of it, staring at it skeptically. “Really? This old thing? I just stole this the last time we went over to his dorm after hide and seek.” 
Changbin laughs and shakes his head, leaning around you now to pluck up a piece of paper and present it to you. 
It’s the one you’ve been looking for. 
You snatch it from him with a teasing glare. 
“Really.” He nods, tugging at the hood of the hoodie teasingly. “This fucking thing is his favorite fucking thing on the whole planet, so the fact that he let you take it and wear it-” He shakes his head in slight disbelief, and smirks down at you. “-well maybe that just means that he has a new favorite fucking thing on the whole planet.” 
You grin at that. 
“I kind of like the sound of that.” Changbin grins back and tackles you onto the futon in the corner of the studio, tickling you as you shriek and struggle to get away from him.
“I knew you would.” 
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crunchyroaches27 · 6 months
Text
”You’re safe, pet.” | TF 141 x omega!reader
OKAYYY BEAR WITH ME! I just released a pt2 of the ghoap post I made but I could not help but write this one. It’s fluff and angst and the same time.
omega!reader is rescued from a Omega trafficking ring by TF141
BACKGROUND INFO
everyone has lil tails and ears (🥺) + Omegaverse AU + they/them pronouns used; Gender neutral + Alphas have pointed canines for marking
there are more characters, like Alejandro but he doesn’t play too much of a major role. He doesn’t deserve to be here
Price is the pack leader. He is an Alpha— the most dominant out of his other mates. His word is absolute law. He likes to regularly scent his pack, it makes him feel reassured that his pack is safe. Price is essentially their cigarette-smoking dad
Ghost is next in line in this chain of command, he is also an Alpha. He is more impulsive than the others and often has to have many restraints, leading to him often being aloof and angsty. Soap likes Ghost, but Ghost is too fucking slow
Gaz is third in line, also an Alpha like the ones before him. He is cool and collected, yet he also is a bit of a rebel— here and there he will challenge Price’s authority and be snarky
And finally, Soap. Poor Soap is at the bottom, being a Beta. Despite not being an Omega, he still carries out monotonous tasks. As the “peacemaker” of his pack, he ensures that all is well between them. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a jackass sometimes. His body scent is fainter, but his scenting abilities are better than the rest bc he is a Beta
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In this cruel world made up of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, there is bound to be danger lurking in every dark alley, every shady nightclub. Over the course of three days, you had seen and felt things you thought would never end. You were used and passed along like a joint. One particular Alpha paid a good fortune for you, and you found yourself dressed in skimpy clothes and drugged with aphrodisiacs. Your pheromones leaked like a pipe. There’s no hope. Why even bother? you thought angstily as you were transported to a new location.
You’d heard of the tragic trafficking of Omegas, but you didn’t expect to experience it firsthand. Omegas have to know every tactic to defend themselves. Your ears drooped in disgust and a sort of disbelief as your body began to enter some sort of stupor; the drugs meant to make you extremely docile and languid were starting to kick in. The sudden sensation of a sharp turn and the screech of wheels snapped you out from your haze. Instead of hearing the usual excited chatter, you heard gunshots. You were too lethargic to even move, so you passed out in your seat. When you awoke, four men surrounded you; three Alphas and one Beta.
You found yourself on a small cot. Three Alphas and one Beta were sniffing your pheromones to deduce your mental, physical, and emotional state. “Aye, Omega’s ‘woken up,” the Beta with the warhawk mumbled. The bearded Alpha hummed. “Hmm. Let’s start with introductions. What’s your name, Omega?” Another Alpha, clad in a skull mask, trilled, seemingly pleased at your arousal (arousal as in the waking up sense!!). “You’re safe, pet. We don’t bite, at least, not unless you want us to.” He jibed with a British lilt once he sensed your fear. His dark-skinned pack mate snorted, rolling his eyes. You could smell he was an Alpha, too.
All of their ears were perked high in expectation, their eyes watching your every move, sniffing every pheromone released into the already stuffy air. “Y/N,” your response made them nod in acknowledgment. “Mm, ‘Kay. We already knew that. Jus’ wanted to see if we got the right person.” The bearded Alpha sighed before continuing. “Well, I’m Price. This ‘ere is Ghost, Gaz on my right, and Soap’s the one in front of ya.” Soap promptly bent down and twinkled at you, his tail wagging. You didn’t even have to ask for their ranks, you could smell it in the bodily fragrances they released— that applied for them too. You could tell that Price, Ghost and Gaz were all Alphas, while Soap was a Beta.
You wondered how they weren't dying to breed you, your pheromones were uncapped and flowing out into the air freely. They must be taking some kick ass suppressors, you surmised. You were, for the lack of better words, glad they weren’t groping your body ravenously. Yet, despite their composed demeanors, glints of wolfish desires were expressed through their eyes. Their tails were rigid and raised.
“We saved you from that trafficking ring— shouldn’t you be more grateful?” Ghost earned himself an elbow pinch from Price. Ghost lowered his ears and grumbled as Gaz snickered. “Omega’s pumped full of drugs. Damnit, they’re barely alive,” Price grunted, his brows knitted— not in regards to Ghost— but at your deplorable condition. “Don’t expect much yet.”
“Soap, call in exfil, we need to go back to base. We need to get this Omega treated.” At Price’s order, Soap’s ears flicked and he soon got to work. “Don’t worry, Omega,” Price murmured, his thick fingers tracing circles on your sunken-in cheeks. He practically melted at the sigh you soughed. “You’re safe, pet.”
One half of you loved his touch, the Omega side that constantly craved the touch and comfort of an Alpha; the other half wanted to flinch back and snarl at it. You’d been touched, and not in a nice way— you didn’t want to bear that again. Yet because Price’s touch was refreshingly compassionate, the former side won.
At the hospital
When you arrived at the base, you were stirred awake by a splitting headache, an after effect of the narcotics. Your vision was bleary but you could tell that you were in an infirmary— and that you were not alone, either.
Ghost and Soap were seated on the chairs adjacent to your little mattress. Their tails were curled curled together as they waited for your awakening. When you finally announced it by clearing your throat, both of their ears shot up in attention and whipped their heads around to face you.
Soap was the first one to detach from the tail-curling and walk towards you, a gentle concern painted onto his face. “Ye feelin’ any better, Omega?” He chuckled at your reply, a tired no. His hands neared to replace the tape covering your scent glands, but then he stopped, seemingly remembering his manners. “Mind if I change ‘em? Not gonna try anything slick,” Soap asked, his icy blue eyes warming themselves for you.
“No,” you croaked. Slowly, he started to strip the tape off, clean your gland, and patch a new piece of tape on. Obviously, your scent had been carried in the air, exciting both Soap and Ghost. You knew Soap had a better nose than the rest. Soap’s pupils had dilated, making you a bit uneasy, “not gonna try anythin’,” he assured you again, smelling your distrust.
“Where’s Price and Gaz?” You questioned, hoping you remembered the name of the two Alphas right. “They’re in Mexico. With a friend; they should be back soon.” Ghost replied, rising to his feet to join Soap. They both assessed you with such focused attention— especially Ghost— making you feel like a piece of meat again. Your ears pinned themselves against your head.
Ghost’s inhaled deeply through his mouth, his breath trembling. He leaned closer towards you, his head tilting to try and whiff up any of your heady pheromones that still lingered in the air from the tape-replacing. Ghost's ears were angled towards you.
Ghost realized what he was doing and promptly gave you your space, as if to prove his salaciousness was kept under control. Or maybe he did it as an apology. "Sorry, just, you smell nice."
Soap hummed in what could be expressed as skepticism.
"Well, I think we should leave 'em to their own devices." Soap said, giving your hand a quick squeeze. He ordered for a glass of water to be delivered to your room before he left with his packmate.
You were left alone with your thoughts. You realized how much of a windfall this was. Out of hundreds of millions, you were saved. You had quite possibly the aid of God by your side. What an occurrence.
Sorry. Didn't really know how to end it, but pt2 will come out fs 😚
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omegaverse-seeker · 2 years
Note
Hi, I’m looking for an gay omega-verse fic I read some years ago and would love to find it again. I only know a bit of the story. It’s an arranged marriage between two kingdoms and the two princes meet for the first time before traveling back to the alphas kingdom. On the road though the omega goes into heat and the alpha takes him out into a river to help cool him. If you have anything at all regarding this I’d love to hear from you!
Oh, what the heck? That actually sounds like an interesting story. If anyone knows what it is, let me know too!
I wanna give this a read. lol
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soaps-mohawk · 8 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 2 - Adjustments
Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.
Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“She was lying.” 
Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day. 
“About how she got to the institute.” 
“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.” 
“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance. 
“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...” 
Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.” 
Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.” 
Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?” 
Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?” 
Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.” 
Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.” 
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You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London. 
Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting. 
You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you. 
You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means. 
You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more. 
Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with. 
Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table. 
They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules. 
You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day. 
You wonder if they ever get a break. 
Maybe this is a break for them. 
You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority. 
Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy. 
You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you. 
Except you don’t know your pack. 
What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.  
Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first. 
You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price. 
Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after. 
Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you. 
You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one. 
You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs. 
As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall. 
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You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle. 
A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers. 
You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now. 
You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C. 
Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too. 
You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back. 
Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?” 
“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.” 
“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit. 
You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.” 
“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully. 
Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most. 
Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.” 
“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing. 
“You hungry?” Gaz asks. 
You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting. 
Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh. 
Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well. 
The thought makes something flutter in your chest. 
You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?” 
“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.” 
“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.” 
You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you. 
Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his. 
He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower. 
It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either. 
“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight. 
“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table. 
You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone. 
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You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling. 
“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.” 
His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own. 
You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family. 
You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away. 
She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles. 
“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand. 
American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one. 
“Captain John Price.” He says. 
You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves. 
“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.” 
Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other. 
You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep. 
Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta. 
“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.” 
She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA. 
“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.” 
“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond. 
Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.” 
“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says. 
You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.” 
Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.” 
“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.” 
“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.” 
“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.” 
“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.” 
You nod. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.” 
Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things. 
“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.” 
Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond. 
“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says. 
“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.” 
You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second. 
“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.” 
A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want. 
“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction. 
“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.” 
You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.” 
Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.” 
The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole. 
“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 
“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.” 
You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face. 
“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?” 
You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base. 
“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.” 
Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega. 
This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world. 
You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age. 
Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas. 
Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up. 
It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check. 
Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack. 
You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings. 
Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world. 
Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you. 
Or maybe they would have been worse. 
“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.” 
“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?” 
You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.” 
“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.” 
Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?” 
“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.” 
“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask. 
“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 
She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?” 
“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer. 
“And how did that go?” 
You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.” 
“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?” 
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...
You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it. 
He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares. 
“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer. 
She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns? 
Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center. 
“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways. 
You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center. 
“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks. 
“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night. 
“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit. 
You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.” 
“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.” 
You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.” 
His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning? 
You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being. 
The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel. 
You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read. 
You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space? 
“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.” 
He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him. 
Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit? 
Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence? 
Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response? 
You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself. 
Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive. 
“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.” 
The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble. 
Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...
You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.
Was he...laughing at you? 
Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives. 
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside. 
“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over. 
“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.” 
He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.” 
You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought. 
What to do about Ghost.
He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that. 
You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk. 
An unneeded disruption to their lives. 
You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you. 
You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate. 
“Can you get a book for me?”
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You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you. 
“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.
“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile. 
“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet. 
“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?” 
You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.” 
Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!” 
“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself. 
“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?” 
“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.” 
“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer. 
“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.” 
Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says. 
You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game. 
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Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap. 
“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him. 
He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?” 
“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.” 
You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch. 
He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder. 
You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again. 
“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.” 
You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state. 
“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up. 
You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made. 
You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.” 
“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.” 
He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face. 
NEXT ->
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hellfire--cult · 27 days
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Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby
Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie
⚠️18+: sexual tension, slight drinking, pining, smut. yes. smut. loads of it. i won't spoil it, but yes, everything. (no omegaverse)
wc: 16K
A/N: roe finished a new chapter of baring teeth and it didnt take her 6 months? lets call that progress! i hope yall enjoy this one...
Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!
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CHAPTER 17
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
You are dying. You are absolutely certain you are fucking dying. You were regaining consciousness and you wanted anything but that. Why be alive when you feel like this? Your stomach is messed up, your head is banging tremendously and you feel as if a bulldozer ran over your entire body.
You mustered a small whine, and you tried to stretch your limbs but everything was painful. Everything hurt and you wondered what you did to deserve to feel like this. Well, you could not have drank as much as you did the day before, so maybe you do deserve it a little for not having any self-control. 
You didn’t want to open your eyes. 
You could already feel the light burning your pupils through your eyelids. It was an orange hue, and you couldn’t manage to even open a bit of your eye. You just want to rot in bed until you actually die. What impulsed you to drink that much yesterday? And how did you even get home? How did you manage to get in bed if you knew you couldn’t stand by yourself?
You whimpered in pain as you tossed on the bed. You could smell the smoke of the club on you, probably still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. You could feel the tightness of the shirt and the elastic of the pants. You could also smell cologne, one that is quite familiar if you had to be honest. It was wooden, kind of, but it was very penetrating.
You whined this time as you received another pang on your head, the more conscious you became, the more you were aware of your headache. The more your stomach turns. The more you grew uncomfortable in every position you turned, making your distressed noises louder.
“Can you shut the fuck up?”
Now, that made the headache leave for just a second because your eyes snapped open like plates as you lay on your side. And there, looking at his profile, was Eddie, with an arm over his eyes in order to cover them. Your heart stopped completely, and then you could hear the blood rushing to your face, to your ears, even behind your eyes. 
You, where were you? Why is Eddie next to you? Why is he here? Why? Oh, god. Did you two… Oh fuck, oh no, you would remember it, wouldn’t you? You definitely would… But what if you didn’t?
You felt a cold sweat invade your body as you quickly sat up on the bed, opening your mouth to talk, but the sudden movement was a bad idea, because as soon as you did it, your stomach betrayed you. It swirled around, the nausea unbearable and soon you realized you were in Eddie’s home.
You could worry about the reason for being here later, you need to run to the bathroom, quick. You haven’t been to his room, ever, and you quickly got up from the bed, ignoring the ache that your body felt, and rushed out of the room, leaving Eddie on the bed.
He was in his own hell as well. Probably not as bad as yours, but he still felt pretty horrible. His head wasn’t the problem, it was mostly his stomach, and hearing you emptying your own on the toilet from across the hall was making it all worse. He groaned as he slowly got up from the bed, feet hitting the floor and– 
“Fuck.” Was his only response as his stomach yelled for attention. He quickly got up and rushed down the spiral steel staircase, his feet clinking and rattling it all as he rushed to the secondary bathroom below, right next to the kitchen.
You were hugging the toilet seat now, your throat burning from the intensity of the emptying of your stomach. You hated vomit. You hated to puke… But sometimes it was what your body needed, and as minutes passed and you were sure there was nothing else, you did feel slightly better. Your stomach was a bit more settled than before, not swirling as much.
You flushed the toilet, and with a groan, you got up on wobbly legs. You felt disgusting, wearing the same clothes as the night before, but you weren’t going to ask Eddie for clothes. No. What were you doing here anyways? How did you even get here?
The clothes were a clear indicator that nothing happened the night before. You can barely remember the club. The last thing you remember was the champagne you were taking, and then beer? You had flashes of dancing with Robin and Nancy, then with Steve… Why are you here with Eddie?
You looked around the bathroom, and it was dark, industrial style, just like his whole house. Black walls, or bricked, with steel and wood furniture. You walked to the sink and you almost screamed at the reflection. Your makeup was all over your face, your hair was a mess, your lips were swollen, and you’re pretty sure you had dried drool from the corner of your mouth to your ear.
You looked like a monster. You wanted to shower, you wanted to wash yourself, take everything off, and take care of the fucking headache you were suffering. You looked around and decided to open the cabinet of his mirror. You found some face lotion, and it might help with the removal of your makeup, but something else caught your attention.
A pill bottle, with Eddie’s name on it. You reached towards it, wanting to know the name of the medicine he was taking as your curiosity picked up. Your hand stopped when you heard the clinking of the stairs, signaling he was coming back up. You put a bit of lotion in your hand before putting it back inside the cabinet, closing it.
You put your hair behind your ears with the hand you had no lotion on, and then began to clean your eyes with the cream. You then rubbed it all over in rushed motions, feeling dirty all over. You turned on the water, letting it warm up as you kept rubbing the lotion into your skin. You then bent over to wash your face, rubbing your hands and taking off the cream and makeup as best as you could.
You straightened up, looked into the mirror again and rubbed underneath your bottom waterline to take the last bit of mascara off. It wasn’t completely clean, but at least it was better than before and you felt tidier. You grabbed the toothpaste and put a bit on your finger to then try to brush your teeth with it. You gurgled some water with it, making it foam in your mouth before spitting on the sink.
You wiped your mouth and you groaned as you felt the headache hit again. You looked at the door and dread came over you as you knew you had to face the owner of the house. You took a deep breath in and walked out of the bathroom and then took steps into Eddie’s room, only to find him shirtless, looking through his drawer, his back turned towards you.
Your eyes were transfixed onto the ink on his back, finally being able to see it. He had a demon, an imp, on his right shoulder and moving down, and then some kind of markings, or symbols, followed by other drawings on his other side. You couldn’t help but stare at him, your head tilted to the side as you studied him, but the panging in your head made you snap out completely. 
“Fuck…” You whimpered and that made Eddie finally turn around, tiredness in his features, his hair down. He felt his stomach turn in anticipation of seeing you after last night, wondering what conversation would be presented today.
“Morning.” You only grunted at his response as you held your head. He gave a nod as he rapidly threw a shirt over himself and then looked inside his dresser again, taking another shirt out and throwing it on the bed, as well as some pair of sweatpants on a drawer below. “Here, wear these. Yours smell like alcohol and smoke.” 
You rolled your eyes at him which only made you wince. You gave him a nod as you walked towards the clothing on the bed and he was expectantly looking at you. If you were faking you didn’t remember, you were a great actress. You were acting almost normal, but probably it was the fact you couldn’t even think. You looked horribly sick if he was being honest.
“Thanks… You have any advil? Ibuprofen? Just anything, a gun works too.” You joked with a raspy voice and he chuckled, rubbing his own head.
“Yeah, I’ll wait for you downstairs.” He left the room, going back towards the stairs to try to prepare the ibuprofen and some breakfast for the two of you. He was gonna wait until you were a little more focused, but what if you actually didn’t remember anything from yesterday night? He remembered it all. 
He remembered the way your lips felt on his, the way you were desperately eating him whole, your tongue, your taste, your scent… He remembered it all despite the haziness of the drinks. He remembered how his hands wrapped around you, gripping your body and pulling you to him. How you pressed yourself on him, moaning into his mouth and–
If he doesn’t stop thinking about it he is going to get a hard on and he won’t be able to either hide it or control himself with you here.
You looked towards the clothes on the bed, and your gut turned at the idea of wearing something of his, but the night clothes were a little too much already. The elastics were killing you and you really wanted to wear something comfortable for your headache and overall state.
You gulped as you slowly took off your clothes, wobbling a bit due to the dizziness the headache provoked. First, the top. You realized quickly that you had no bra on, the cups of the top having pads on for support. You felt heat spread on your face as you pondered on putting the shirt on or not. 
But being comfortable won over embarrassment, and you quickly put it on. A little loose, which helped with the lack of bra look. Then, you took off your pants and you felt so relieved to toss those constricting, yet really nice, pants away. You quickly put on his sweatpants, tying up the knot on the waist so they wouldn’t fall. You looked down at your bare feet and you looked around his room for the first time.
You saw pictures hanging on the wall, posters, vinyls in frames, and then a guitar. It was red, and it was certainly from the 90’s or 80’s. That must be Eddie’s most precious guitar. Then you turned towards the pictures that were on a corkboard, all pinned up. You saw him with Steve, then a picture of him with Nancy, and you smiled as you saw a picture of him in a green graduation gown, holding a diploma with his uncle next to him.
Your smile faltered a bit at seeing his uncle. He had shown you pictures of him, but never ones that were when he was completely healthy. He looked like another man. You took a deep breath in, about to look for something to wear on your feet, but then a picture caught your attention. 
It was a picture of you two. It was a picture Steve had taken while sitting in Jonathan’s bar. You were looking at eachother, drinks in hand, smiling. You felt your heart start to beat rapidly the more you looked at it because you two looked like a couple. Steve had uploaded the story on Instagram and more than one person had asked if you two were dating.
Why couldn’t they understand you two were friends?
Why can’t you understand that?
Just friends. 
You snapped out of your thoughts as you looked on the floor, seeing a pair of slippers. You put them on, giggling at the size difference, but you didn’t want to catch a cold for going barefoot on cold floors. 
You walked out of the room and headed downstairs, the clinking announcing your appearance to the man who was cooking some grilled sandwiches for the two of you. You grimaced at the smell, your stomach turning at the idea of eating something. Could you even get anything down?
“As much as I appreciate the food, I don’t think I can eat anything Munson.” You sighed as you walked towards the kitchen stools to sit at the island counter. His back was towards you, his hair up in a bun this time, much to your dismay. You shook that thought away, closing your eyes as you felt another pang of pain thanks to your headache.
He turned around and the air got knocked out of his lungs as he saw you with his clothes on. Maybe giving you something else to wear was a bad idea. It was worse than seeing you in your club clothes. Way worse. He felt heat run all over his body as he stared at you while you rubbed your temple. 
How are you able to get him riled up by just wearing his Limp Biskit shirt?
“You’re gonna eat because it will make you feel better.” He went towards his fridge to get his jar of water out, placing it on the island counter where he had already put two glasses for both of you and a pill of ibuprofen.
You immediately lunged forward, filling both glasses with water and grabbing the pill. You threw it into your mouth and chugged the entire glass in a matter of seconds, realizing how dehydrated you were. He was stunned, wide eyed, looking at your display. He already had some water and his own medicine, but he grabbed the glass either way and took a sip from it.
“Shit…” You moaned with delight at the cold liquid running down your dry throat. Eddie’s grip on his glass tightened at the sound as he quickly turned around, trying to think of anything but you. You, who was sitting in his house in his clothes and did you think that he didn’t notice you didn’t have a bra on?
He put the glass on the counter and flipped both sandwiches from the pan to the two plates he had prepared. He grabbed them and turned again to put a plate in front of you and then one for himself, sitting across. He grabbed his glass and sat down with a groan, which caught your attention.
You felt your body becoming hot as you side-eyed him. You wanted to kill him for looking so good, even with a hangover. You probably looked like a wet raccoon that was kicked multiple times out of a Chuck E. Cheese.
“So…” He started, wondering if you showed any kind of nervousness, any at all, but he didn’t see any of that, perplexing him. Just a pained face after taking the first bite of your sandwich, making him frown. “Hey, it’s not that bad.”
“It’s not, I just feel like I have a war in my stomach.” You forced yourself to eat another bite as he took a bite from his. It was silent for a second, your stomach turning in nerves as you looked at him. “How uh… How did I end up here?”
And now Eddie knew you didn’t remember shit. He couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the situation. You two finally crossed the line and you didn’t remember it at all. You tilted your head as an angry frown came to your eyebrows at the lack of response. He cleared his throat as he took a sip of his water and then looked at you.
“Argyle. You were too smashed to go home alone.” He stated and looked back down at his sandwich, taking another bite from it. You read his expression, noticing a certain frustration behind his tone.
“Did I… was I a burden? Did I cause trouble for you?” And he looked up at you, realizing how he came across, and shook his head, your shoulders losing the tension you didn’t know you were holding. You suddenly noticed that he had his TV on, music playing in low.
“No, you weren’t. It’s just my hangover face, Peach.” He cleared his throat as you nodded and took a bite of your sandwich, noticing the more you ate, the easier it was to gulp food down. He licked his lips as his eyes kept looking at your face. “I’m guessing you don’t remember shit from last night?”
And you rubbed your temples in embarrassment. It was all foggy. Absolutely everything. Flashes of the night coming to you, but it was just you dancing, or drinking, or grinding against Robin. 
“Not most of it, no… I drank too much. That first bucket of champagne was a mistake.” You giggled and looked up, connecting your eyes to his. He was looking at you with a serious face on, but you felt yourself sinking into the brown irises, your smile faltering as you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach. 
There was silence between the two of you and then you heard it in the background. A song. “Pray for me” by The Weeknd started playing. 
More flashes.
Someone. You made out with someone. 
You remember the cologne.
It was the same cologne–
Your eyes widened like plates as you almost fell out of your stool, gasping as the memory became clearer the more you listened to the song. No, no, it cannot be. No, it was someone alike. Eddie only smirked as he sat back on the stool and took a slow sip of his water, realizing you had remembered.
“No… We didn’t. Right? We–”
“Made out? Yeah. Glad you could remember Peach.”
Your body froze, and your blood went cold as you sat there. You felt it draining from your body, not knowing where it was ending at, but that was the least of your problems. You started remembering it vividly.
The intensity of it, his tongue, his smell, his taste, the way he pressed himself into you, how he devoured you and you didn’t hesitate to return the favor. You slowly placed your elbows on the counter and you grabbed onto your head, running your fingers through your hair as you clenched your eyes tightly.
“Oh god…” Eddie only chuckled at your response, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
“And you were the one that came onto me. Didn’t think you’d be that bold.” He was mocking you, but the embarrassment washed over you as you remembered how you pressed your ass against him on purpose, trying to rile him up. He even warned you that you were crossing a line. 
Not only that, but you remembered that you were the one who kissed him. You were the one who made all the first moves yesterday night. All the flirting, all the innuendos. It was all you. You fucked up. You fucked it up. 
“Shut up… Goddamnit Eddie, shut up.” He grinned at your words, looking over at you as he raised his eyebrows.
“That’s the same thing you said before you kissed me–” And you slammed your hands on the counter, glaring up at him as you felt your body burning with anger, embarrassment, shame, and also arousal. You couldn’t deny how good it felt. How amazing he was. How perfectly you two molded together. 
“We’re gonna forget it happened.” That was your response, making Eddie’s smile fall completely. Were you serious? Forget it? After weeks of dancing around the line you two didn’t know if it was worth crossing? A line that was crossed already?
“Humor me. Why?” His voice was low, a bit threatening as if he was warning you to choose your words carefully. You straightened up, clearing your throat as you held your head high, showing him your word was final.
“Because… It was the alcohol. We’re friends, just that.” And oh, that made him mad. So you think you can rile him up, kiss him, give him the idea something more can happen, only to then say this? He felt played with. Even he never fell that low. He was always honest with his needs, with his wants. Girls he hooked up with and got attached, he cut them off to spare them from heartbreak. 
“Right. Friends.” He chuckled humorlessly at that, shaking his head as he looked down at his glass of water, taking a sip from it, hoping the cold drink would simmer the flames down a bit. You frowned at his response, crossing your arms over your chest.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He shook his head as he looked back at you.
“Are you always that touchy with your friends?” Your breathing stopped at his question. The air around the two of you grew tense and heavy. You felt it pushing you down onto the floor, like an elephant’s foot. He was staring at you with a piercing gaze, and you felt a shiver running down your spine as you saw how he was inspecting you.
You clenched your legs together as you moved in your stool, trying to ignore the ache that was forming between them. It was just a stupid crush, a crush that had to pass. But he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips as he stared at you, as if he had figured out something from you. 
“Maybe. I made out with Robin once.” You admitted, and honestly, you did. And Eddie knew it, he was there when it happened. A guy was not leaving Robin alone, not understanding the word no. So you did what a good friend does. Pretend you are their partner. 
“That was situational. Ours was a little different, don’t you think?” His voice was low, angry. You understood him, you truly did. You’ve been following this game of flirting with him, you are to blame for this one, but now you know that it cannot happen again. You are not satisfied with just one kiss, but nothing else can happen between you two.
You can’t lose Eddie. You are too fond of the friendship you have.
“And it won’t happen again. Like I said, I was– driven by alcohol, and you were drunk too.” You tried justifying it, and it only fueled Eddie’s irritation. He wanted to kill you right now, or rather, bend you over the counter so he could fuck your brains out until you forgot your name. Show you everything he could do to you, ruin you for everyone else.
You two were looking at eachother, the air completely charged, the sparks flying all over the place. You felt your heart beating in your throat and you saw him opening his mouth, only to then chuckle and shake his head, making you frown. 
“Right. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.” And his gaze went back to his sandwich, finishing it in three bites. You blinked once, not expecting it. Why did you feel disappointed? He agreed with you, didn’t he? What else were you expecting? It’s not like he was gonna force you… or convince you… or punish you for what you did the night before.
You opened your mouth to talk to him again, only for a ringing to interrupt you. He looked over to his phone, answering it with one swipe. You heard Steve’s voice on the other side, making you tilt your head. You whispered to him, a frown on your eyebrows.
“Is that Steve?” Eddie shushed you with a swat of his hand, continuing to talk to his friend.
“I can’t understand shit Steve.” Again, you heard Steve on the other side, almost yelling at him. Eddie clenched his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I forgot, but I have a hangover, can you blame me?” More talking on Steve’s end as Eddie nodded. “Alright man, stop yelling at me, the ibuprofen didn’t kick in yet, and I’m a little… irritated at the moment.” A glare was sent your way and your mouth dropped in disbelief.
Why is he irritated? You were just being civil, rational, a good friend that doesn’t want to throw the friendship away for a simple fuck. Were you wrong for doing that? Were you an evil person for it? You scrunched your nose at him, anger now fueling you at his attitude and you stood up from the stool as he watched you while talking on the phone.
You walked towards the couch, seeing your shoes sitting on the side. You winced at the idea of wearing the heels again, but it was your only footwear to go home. Eddie hung up and stared at your figure as you scratched your head, not turning to look at him. He felt your irritation, as well as your nervousness, or uncertainty. He wasn’t sure. 
“I need to call a cab and go home. I just want to lay down and rot.” He wanted to go towards you and kiss you senseless again so you realized how hard it would be to forget about it. How stupid is it to even try to forget about it, like you are doing right now. Wanting to change the subject, pretending you hadn’t just remembered everything from last night.
But he understood as well. The mixed feelings of crossing a line that maybe you were afraid of doing so. He closed his eyes, coming to terms that maybe that was it. He won’t be able to taste you again, nor taste you fully. He won’t be able to know your body, to know what you like. He won’t be able to have you the way he wants to, because you value his friendship.
So, he will accept your decision.
“I’ll take you home. I have to go to Steve’s anyway.” His voice startled you, making you turn to look at him. He had to make up for his irritation from before, probably telling you some of his truth. “I get touchy when drunk too. I made out with Nancy once. Kissed Argyle on the mouth, as well as Robin. I received a punch from her though.”
You blinked at his comment, confusion and– disappointment filling your core once more. What? Wasn’t he angry before? You felt the air lose its tension, and the hotness you felt around you left, only making you yearn for it again. 
“Oh…” Is all you muttered, not knowing what else to say. He sighed, getting up from the stool, and pointing a finger at you with a serious look in his eyes.
“You though, you owe me.” You were startled by the statement, tilting your head with a squint of your eyes.
“What? Why!?” You raised your hands up in a motion of ‘What did I do?’, making him chuckle.
“Because I had to deal with your drunken ass yesterday. I couldn’t leave you alone, what if you choked on your own vomit Peach? Also, I cooked for you and saved you from a headache.” He gave a few taps to his temple and you rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Oh, so you being a good friend means I owe you?” And that comment was not liked. Neither of you liked that. You didn’t like calling him that… but he cannot be more than that. Eddie’s eyebrow twitched, but he masqueraded it with a grin on his face.
“Me being a good friend doesn't come for free.” 
And him saying it… only made you even more annoyed.
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Things returned to normal after it and you didn’t like it one bit. It was your decision, it was your say. It was you the one who told him you two were just that. Friends. Friends who send eachother tik toks, memes, joke about what happened at work to both of you that day.
Just like before. Before the bantering. Before you– Before you broke up with Billy. Those first days of friendship, those first weeks and months where it was just you two having fun. Sure, you have noticed his instagram stories before, but you hadn’t paid attention to them. You never lingered more than one second on the story. Now, you lingered five… maybe ten. Maybe you even took a screenshot here and there. 
You had to stop. You had to, but as the days passed, you remember the kiss more and more. You remembered the heat of his body, the way your fingers ran through his hair, the way you wanted his leg to press in between your thighs, and how he gripped your waist and held you tight. 
It was intense and you wanted that intensity once more. You wanted to feel him again and even more. It wasn’t enough, and you told him it was, lying to him as well as yourself. You weren’t an idiot… you knew he was pissed about your decision, but he still respected it. It was just a crush. It was just that and you two had to leave it behind.
But can you?
Can you really put it behind you? How? How when you hadn’t tried him the way you wanted to? How when you touch yourself to thoughts of him? How when you still hadn’t returned his shirt and sweatpants from a week ago and you still use them to sleep?
And how can you put it behind you when the bastard looks fucking great in a goddamn short-sleeved black turtle neck, showing off his tattoos as he pours drinks for him and Steve in the kitchen of his house. 
You were standing on a corner, next to Jonathan as you two watched the people all around you. You had greeted Jeff and Gareth, Eddie’s coworkers, or well… workers since he is the boss of the shop. Then all your friends were here too but then… there were also strangers. 
“I think they’re friends from clubs? Or– I don’t know who the fuck these people are.” Jonathan comments while you take a sip of your beer, promising yourself to not drink much tonight. Who knows what you might do if you have more than what you can take?
“I have no clue… maybe it’s friends from friends from friends…” You tried to pitch in but– You couldn’t help to look at all the girls that were in his home. You heard the doorbell ring, even through the music and Eddie patted Steve’s shoulder before going to get it. He opened the door and you took a sharp inhale of breath as you saw a blonde greeting him with two other girls behind her.
Eddie smiled at them and the grip on your can tightened. You felt your stomach flipping, and you tried to push it away as best as you could. They’re just friends. Absolutely. Of course, just like you are, or Nancy or Robin. Just friends.
But you couldn’t help but wonder if he fucked one of the girls here… or a few.
You didn’t believe Eddie would be stupid enough to put girls he fucked in the same place, well, unless he planned to fuck more than one. That thought made you take a large sip of your can. You had tried to set your eyes on someone else but you couldn’t. Your eyes drifted to the same dark-haired man with tattoos showing. 
You realized you ran out of beer and saw Steve sauntering over. You excused yourself to get another can, moving through the people that laughed and drank. It wasn’t a big party, but there were many people, probably twenty, or a bit more. You reached the kitchen and opened his fridge to take a can out, only to feel another presence next to you.
“Now, don’t overdo it tonight Peach. Don’t want to take care of you again.” You closed your eyes as you felt irritation bubble inside of you, turning to look at him. His eyes scanned your face, his eyes moving down your body as you turned to put the can on the island counter behind you, opening it.
You were wearing a small simple black dress with straps, heels on your feet. It wasn’t too much, but it wasn’t casual. Your perfume was a tad stronger than other times, knowing you sprayed yourself a few more times than you usually did. He stood next to you, grunting when he realized the drink he prepared before was gone, grabbing another red cup for himself to start preparing himself another one.
“Don’t worry Munson, not planning to. It’s my second one of the night, and we have been here for two hours already.” You say as you take a sip of your can. His eyebrow raised up in question at the hint of anger behind your voice. The irritated tone you delivered that phrase with.
“Damn, if you are getting bored you can leave Peach.” He says as he rolls his eyes, pouring rum into his cup. You side glare at him, looking at all the people around you.
“Who are all of these people anyway?” You asked and he looked at you and then at the people around him.
“Friends I met, some were clients from my shop, and then it’s just friends of friends.” And that was that. Before you could even process it, the next question was out of your lips with so much venom that you didn’t even recognize it yourself.
“And I bet you fucked more than two of the women here, right?” He was shocked at your question and before he could say anything you were gone. 
And now, Eddie Munson was angry.
He was fucking pissed, and as he took the first sip of his drink, he knew you weren’t going to leave his home tonight. Not without answering the many questions he has. Why were you playing hard to get? Why tell him to be just friends and then say stuff like this? Why tell him to forget it all when you clearly didn’t want to either?
He clenched his jaw as he walked towards Leslie, an old worker at his shop before she got married. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he talked, a smile on his face as he did.
“And George stayed home tonight, playing with his own friends. I just needed a night out by myself you know?” She says and Eddie nods at that as Gareth chuckles, shaking his head.
“I can’t believe you are married still. I remember when you told us you didn’t believe in such things as marriage and shit.” Eddie smiled as Leslie started bantering with Gareth, but he caught something in the corner of his eye. 
You.
You were looking his way. It was a mixture of a glare and a squint as Nancy talked with Robin. You straightened up and pretended to look around you instead of him and directed your eyes back to your two friends. His jaw clenched once more as he realized what you were looking at. He wasn’t a fucking idiot, and you were pissing him off.
He had been civil, not letting the kiss ruin the friendship you two had before, just like you wanted. He had been sending you memes all week, talking about your car and even making fun of you still about how old it is. No flirty remarks like before, but now you do this. 
Why do you care if he fucked any of the girls here? Why do you have to make those kinds of comments to him? Why would you glare his way because he had his arm around another girl’s arm? Why would you tell him to forget about the kiss and stay friends and just that, and you act like this?
And you, you don’t want to be obvious, but you can’t help yourself. You are watching the girls that talk to Eddie throughout the night, see with whom he acts differently. Maybe see if seeing him flirting with someone else makes you realize that your decision was correct. That your decision of staying just friends was the good one. You know it is. You know it is for the entire group dynamic, not just the two of you.
But why do you have this sensation of regret? Of knowing you might be missing a chance? You want to shake off the feeling, the nauseous-like feeling swirling around in your stomach. Maybe it’s time to stop drinking for the night. You place the half-empty can on the small table next to the couch and see Eddie leading the girl he had his arm around up the stairs, where his room was.
Your stomach twisted and you closed your eyes because you were being dumb. You and he didn’t do anything, you just made out, nothing special. He is just a friend, you wanted this, you have to keep your word. You have to–
“You okay?” You’re startled by Robin, looking at you worriedly. You blink a few times to center yourself back to the present and turn to look at her, a fake smile spreading on your lips as you nod at her.
“Yeah, just kind of spaced out.” You try for your voice to not sound strained, as if you didn’t feel your heart hammering, pounding to come out of your chest. Suddenly, you hear the stairs again as Eddie talks to the woman who follows him. A sense of relief washes over you when it was only a minute since they went upstairs, nothing could have happened.
You shouldn’t feel relief. You shouldn’t be feeling anything at all, but all you fucking remember is that kiss.
You stayed with Steve, telling him to take you home afterwards while Robin and Nancy left a bit early, as well as Argyle. One hour later all the strangers left one by one, and not a girl in sight that stayed behind. You were pitiful. You knew it. But you couldn’t help yourself.
“Ready to go?” Jonathan asked and you nodded, walking over to the coat hanger to look for your coat, only to find that it was gone. Dread filled you as you thought someone mistakenly took it, or worse, stole it. You didn’t know more than half the people in here so–
“Peach, I left your coat upstairs in my room. It was getting a little crowded in that hanger.” His voice startled you, turning to face him. He was towering over you, a look in his eyes that you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. A smile was on his lips as he kept talking, “Plus, you are staying behind.”
You frown in confusion at that, your eyes still connected with his. You tilted your head in question as Steve grabbed his coat alongside Jonathan’s jacket.
“Why? You need help cleaning?” He asks and Eddie chuckles as he looks at his best friend.
“Yeah, and she owes me. Isn’t that right… sweetheart?” He tilted his head at your nickname and you knew that it wasn’t that. He doesn’t want to clean the mess that is his living room and kitchen. Jonathan whistles as he puts on his jacket.
“Well shit, I’m glad I’m not you.” He comments and you turn around to look at them, your face still stunned at the turn of your night. Your nerves were breaking you from the inside out. Was he going to yell at you? Break the relationship for how you acted tonight?
“You’ll take her home later on?” Steve asks and Eddie’s hand presses on your right shoulder, and you notice the slight pressure on it, more than needed.
“Sure.” Steve only gives Eddie a pointed look and you didn’t want them to leave, but you couldn’t stop them. There was no excuse to make them stay, or to wait for you since you and Eddie are on good terms. They waved at the two of you and finally walked out of the door. You felt the hand on your shoulder leave you as Eddie passed by you, grabbing the keys from the small key holder next to the door and locking it.
Your heart was running wild, feeling the hot air all around you, the pressure of it, the tension. It came right at you like a punch to the gut. His head slowly turned to face you and you could now see the fire in his eyes. Eyes you never saw before. Eyes that make your knees quiver, threatening to give out on you. 
“Ed–”
“What the fuck are you doing?” 
His voice was deep, demanding, and authoritative. You felt a shiver run down your spine, sweat starting to form throughout your body, from the tip of your fingers to your toes. His eyes were piercing you, making you bleed. His jaw was clenched tightly and you knew you had to stand your ground here, so you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Well, helping you clean, so it seems?” You tried not to make your voice sound small, but how his body language reacted made you even more nervous. His body turned to face you completely as one step was taken towards you.
“Oh, you know very damn well you’re not staying to fucking clean.” Your heart was beating rapidly as you looked at him, feeling like a small rabbit being hunted by a wolf. You managed to gulp as you stood your ground. 
“Then I don’t know what the hell you mean.” He laughed dryly, not believing your attitude right now. Better be straightforward with you before he loses his patience.
“Cut the fucking crap Peach. What the hell was that comment about the girls here? Why the fuck would you care?” You winced a bit at it, feeling ashamed and embarrassed about the outburst, but it was out of your own control.
“It was… It was just a question!” His eyes widened in disbelief for a second as he shook his head at you.
“Was it? Was it really? Because you didn’t even give me a chance to answer, so it felt more like a complaint.” He wanted to rip you apart right now. His anger and his pent-up attraction towards you were making him get way too riled up. He couldn’t believe how much you could affect him, but here he was.
“A complaint? No, it was just me wondering if there were any girls you fucked in the party, that was all.” And he only responded in a low voice.
“And so what if there were?” Your stomach flipped. He was right and you didn’t want to admit it. Not for a second. You turned around and started walking towards the stairs, needing to leave as soon as possible.
“Can’t a friend simply ask something out of curiosity?” And Eddie’s patience was about to spill out of its glass, all it needs is a few more drops. He groans, no, growls at your words as you start walking up the stairs, him following right behind, his steps louder than yours.
“A friend? A fucking friend? As far as I remember friends don’t glare at one another when they’re with someone else. As far as I fucking remember Peach, friends don’t flirt with eachother–” His voice was annoying you, your pent-up arousal towards him, your anger towards the situation, all of it was overwhelming you. “-- where the fuck are you going!?”
“Home! I’m getting the stupid coat you purposely put in your room to make me stay behind!” You reached his hallway, and you heard the quick clinking of his shoes catching up to you. You were about to turn to go into his room when suddenly you felt your shoulder being grabbed, forcing you to turn around as he slammed you against the wall, not enough to hurt you, but enough to keep you in place.
His chest was moving up and down rapidly, as much as yours was, and then, his other hand came to wrap itself around your throat, not putting any pressure on it. You were about to talk, taking a breath, but you were interrupted when his lips crashed into yours. His body pressed against you, and your breath got knocked out of your lungs.
He moved forcefully, with purpose, as his lips slotted with yours, sometimes teeth knocking by the desperation of his kiss. You were stunned still, your lips being taken by his, making them move the way he wanted them to. The hand that was on your shoulder pressed on your waist now, and the smacking of lips vibrated throughout the small hallway.
Your heart hammered in your chest, your blood rushed to your ears as you felt a hot sweat, a hot wave that ran all over your body. You flushed all over as your breathing quickened. You pressed your hands on his chest and you pushed, separating him from your lips, his hands ripping away from your body as he slammed on the other side of the narrow hallway, in front of you.
You were breathing heavily just as much as he was, staring at one another with glares, with defiance, with a challenge. You were sober, and so was he. There is no excuse this time, no playing games, no lies. He waited, knowing the cards were on your side now.
And fuck the stupid invisible line.
You went forward, hands slamming on his chest to push him into the wall as you raised up to clash your lips against his, roughly, messily, your body showing him just how much you want this, how much you have been wanting this. He groaned into the kiss, delight filling him all over as you reciprocated the kiss, the neediness, the attraction.
His hand flew towards the back of your neck, pulling you into the kiss, his tongue parting your lips and you willingly let him, needing to taste the tobacco on him, just like a week ago. You needed to feel him, completely, and you just had to promise yourself one thing. One small yet enormous thing. 
This has to be a one-time thing.
His other arm wrapped around your waist and your hands traveled north, towards a place that had been there a week before. Your nails went towards his hair, his half bun still holding his hair up. You wanted to rip it off, but you knew it would be a nuisance for him. His scruff tickled you as your tongues danced together, desperately, as if your time was running out somewhere in the universe.
You pressed your body against his, your belly coming in touch with the bulge that resides inside his pants, making you gasp in surprise. You felt your pussy throb in need like it always did whenever he looked better than usual. You felt your blood rushing to your head at the overwhelming feelings of it all, at how your skin was burning you, like a raging fire.
He groaned into your mouth as he devoured your lips, his tongue ravishing yours, fighting for dominance. Goosebumps raised on his skin as he felt your nails graze his nape, and he needed you. He needed you. He fucking needed you. He had to taste you, he had to make you scream, show you what you have been missing, what he has been missing. 
He moved, lifting you two from the wall and slamming you back to the other side, just like you were minutes before. He begrudgingly pulled away from the kiss, but instantly clashed his lips on your neck, making a moan get stuck in your throat as you felt his teeth nipping at your skin. You felt his hand desperately reaching down towards the hem of your dress, grabbing onto it and yanking it upwards and over your ass, leaving you on your thong out in the open.
Your eyes were wide at this intensity of his, but you didn’t dislike it. No, on the contrary, you were loving it. You wanted more. You wanted to feel him more. Wanted to know what else he can give you as you felt him suck on your neck, drunk on your perfume, drunk off of you.
The hand that lifted your dress went towards your ass, cupping it with his large hand, and you felt his digits digging into your skin. He moaned into your neck and then his warmth was gone as he dropped to his knees right in front of you. Your eyes snapped down towards him, your belly contracting in need, your stomach just doing overwhelming flips. 
You felt a tad self-conscious, but it was quickly wiped away when he leaned forward to press a kiss to your right thigh, his hands running from the back of it towards your calf. He kissed your knee before lifting it up so you hooked it over his left shoulder. The position familiar to you, but you couldn’t bother remembering it. Not when he was looking at your clothed center as if it were his last meal.
He bit your inner thigh gently as your scent worsened his state of arousal. His dick twitched in his pants as he raised his hands, his left one going over your thigh, and grabbed the elastic of your thong, the small strap that was on the left side of your hip. His eyes locked with yours and you knew he was asking one last time for permission, for approval.
You could back out. You could tell him to better not do anything… but where would that lead you? To feel disappointed again? To yearn for him? To want him more than before? No… You don’t want that again. You need to try him. You need to experience him, or else this crush might never go away.
So you nod as your body flushes all over, and then, a snap.
You gasp as the thong uncovers you right in front of his face, still hooked on your right leg. He was grinning as he leaned forward, kissing right at the top of your clit, on your belly. Your hands were pressed against the wall behind you, looking down at him with pleading eyes. He gave you one last look and then he dove in.
His left hand went to your ass while the other gripped your hip. His lips gave a teasing kiss to your clit, making you shiver on top of him which only urged him on. His tongue darted out next, licking a strip through your cunt, savoring your juices and he swears you were the most delicious one. 
He knew you were. It must be the pent-up anger and sexual frustration he had with you that probably makes you delectable right now. He just needed the taste, that’s all. But fuck if you weren’t delicious.
And then your eyes widened when he started licking, no, devouring you. And you raised your hand to your mouth, throwing your head back as you muffled your moans into your knuckles. You were being consumed in a way you never experienced before. You felt his tongue all over, his lips enclosed on your folds so he could run it back and forth. The noises were filthy, but he was determined to break you with his mouth.
He noticed how you were holding back your moans, making a growl vibrate in his throat, his mouth unlatching from your pussy so he could bite, a little hard, on your right inner thigh. You yelped at the feeling, your hand moving away from your mouth as you glared down at him with glossy eyes.
“Moan. Let me fucking hear you, friend.” He mocked you and your mouth fell open, stunned, ready to go at him with words, only for those to fall dead in your throat. His tongue was back on you. The tip of it flicked your clit before it went back down to your folds, and then, you felt it enter you.
You finally let a moan out of your lips, your left hand coming to grip the back of his head to hold onto something, anything at all. And the sound of your moan made him groan in need against you, wanting more, wanting to make you fall apart even further. He wanted his name on your lips, he needed you to scream for him.
He felt your warmth all over his tongue as you gripped his hair, sending jolts of electricity down his body, reaching the tip of his cock. He’s sure he is already leaking precum, knowing he is riled up to no measures. Your mouth was still open as moans left it, soft yet sharp breaths as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, leaning against the wall behind you.
You felt him licking, sucking, kissing, flicking, you just felt him all over you, leaving no place untouched. His digits dug into your skin, your legs trembling at each strike of pleasure he gave you. This was new. Completely. You felt good, way too fucking good. After these months of bland hookups, Eddie eating you out, and just doing that, made all of those burn in shame. 
“Fuck…” Was a small little word that fell from your mouth and it urged him to continue, to break you further. His fire for you made him grow impatient with the need to taste your climax, making his muscles tense, clench and unclench, just as your pussy was doing on his tongue.
He pulled away reluctantly with a pop and a slurp in his mouth, moaning softly at your taste. He was eating you but it was not enough, he needed to go deeper, harsher. He needed to brand himself into your memory, claim a small part of your brain that you won’t be able to erase. 
“Trust me.” You were panting as you looked down, about to tell him to shut up and keep going, only for a squeal of surprise to leave your mouth. His right hand was urging you to lift your other leg up, to put it over his other shoulder. Your hands pressed against the wall behind you as you grew unsure about the new position.
“Eddie, you won’t be able to–” His eyes connected with yours, a glare in them, something that told you to not defy him at this moment. You felt the need to comply with his request so you braced yourself on the wall and your eyes widened when his left hand went to hold your waist, pinning you to the wall, while his other hand hooked on the back of your left knee and hoisted it up over his right shoulder.
Then his hand joined his other around your waist, holding you up with his strength and you hooked your ankles together behind him, biting your bottom lip, afraid of falling to the floor, your fingernails digging into the wall behind you. You opened your mouth to tell him that you weren’t sure again, only for it to be silenced by him going in once more. 
He ripped a moan out of your throat as his tongue licked from your entrance to your clit, filthy sounds of his saliva and your juices mixing together, slurping, squelch, everything sounding absolutely dirty and erotic that your senses were overloading. 
He was pussy drunk, his pupils dilated as he ravished you, as he tore you apart with each lick. You couldn’t even care that he was holding you up all by himself, you were looking at the ceiling, your body already flushed, feeling as if you were burning up with a fever. You couldn’t believe you heard moans coming from him doing this to you.
He held your waist, not even feeling your weight, only caring for your taste, only caring for the taste of your impending climax, wanting you to yell his name which you have yet to do. His nose hit your clit each time his tongue dove into you, the tip of it flicking against your walls which made you mewl, your back trying to arch only for his grip to keep you stuck to the wall behind you.
Your climax started to build up, your belly burning and contracting in itself as you panted on top of him. Your senses were overloading, your rational mind was all over the place. For one, you knew you shouldn’t do this, but on the other hand, you couldn’t stop it, not even if you wanted to. You couldn’t find it in you to care anymore, at least not for now.
“Eddie, Eddie–” His name came out of your lips as you felt the coil turning and turning in your belly, everytime he flicked your clit with his tongue. At the sound of his name, he opened his eyes and he realized he won’t be able to see your face when you cum, and he won’t have that. He preferred to see you than taste you, after all, he could lick his fingers afterwards.
He pulled away from your pussy, chin glistening, a string of saliva in between his lips and your clit. You whined as you looked down at him with a pained frown. What the hell? Why? Why did he stop? He made you take your right leg off him, and the moment your heel pressed onto the ground again you felt like you were gonna tumble to the side, but he kept you up thanks to your left leg still on his shoulder.
He tapped on your leg for you to move it off him and you groaned in disdain, wanting to curse at him for stopping, for edging you the way he just did. Was he probably regretting it? Did he come to his senses maybe? You felt your heart beat rapidly as you saw him getting up from the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, once you set your other foot down. 
He towers over you once more, his eyes clashing against your cloudy ones as you feel your legs about to give in on you. His pupils were dilated, the brown of his irises was gone. You gulped as you opened your mouth to say something only for his lips to clash into yours once more. 
You tasted yourself in his mouth, moaning into the kiss as his lips moved on yours. Your hands were about to move from the wall but you stopped your movements when you felt his hand rub your belly as it went further down. You jolted, making you pull away from the kiss with a gasp when his middle finger touched your sensitive clit, making the coil return to your belly once again as if it had never left.
Your gaze went downwards, looking at how he coated his fingers in your juices, a trembling sigh escaping you. You felt his other hand pressing underneath your chin with his index finger, and he made you look back up at him at the same time he teased your entrance with his fingers.
“I’m gonna watch you cum around my fingers Peach.” Your mouth fell open at his words, only for then to feel your eyes roll to the back of your head when his middle finger entered you. He groaned at the feeling of your warmth, the sensation going straight to his dick, which was now hurting from how hard it was, and the pants were too constricting on him. You were so warm, so fucking perfect, and he knew he had to prep you for what he was going to do in a matter of minutes.
You felt his fingers grab onto the sides of your chin, making you pucker your lips slightly as you looked at him again. His gaze was intense as his finger started pumping in and out of you. Your moans were breathy, hot and he could feel them in his face. He saw how a sheen of sweat was over your forehead now, and he could feel your body temperature burning as his finger picked up a pace, your legs spreading a little wider for easier access, making him chuckle. 
“Eager.” He mumbled and you whined at how he was making fun of you, only for a moan to escape you, this time throaty, his ring finger joining his middle one. Your knees started shaking as you felt him go in and out of you. You could feel the thickness of his fingers, rubbing perfectly against your walls as your fingers dug into the wall behind you, trying to keep you up.
“Fuck–” You cursed as you felt him curl his fingers inside of you and your belly started screaming and turning into itself as he hit that spongy part inside of you. He smiled as he looked down at your wrecked face, your eyes being filled with tears of pleasure as your mouth never closed. 
He immediately started a rapid and brutal pace, the squelching of your pussy with his fingers filling both of your ears. You were drenched for him and he was in love with the feeling of it. He pressed his palm over your clit, keeping the pace of his fingers and your eyes widened when you started thrashing underneath him, the pleasure becoming too much as you felt your climax threatening to destroy you.
“Cum.” And that order was low, and you felt it vibrate in the deepest part of your brain. He felt your body start shaking and he ripped his hand off your chin in order to press his entire forearm over your torso, keeping you stuck to the wall. 
Your vision went white, your pussy clenching around him like a vice, throbbing, as your climax hit you like a fucking truck. It was earth-shattering. Your hips tried to move away from him, but also against him. Your moans were all over the place, not even knowing if you were saying anything or just crying out. 
You could see his delighted smile through the fog, as he saw you squirm, helping you ride your orgasm. His pace slowed down as you slowly got some clarity back into your body. You twitched as you breathed heavily, whimpering at the sudden overstimulation. His arm left your torso, grabbing onto your waist to help you stand steady on your heels again. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, and you felt so empty all of a sudden and you let a sigh escape you as your body felt like plummeting to the floor. It was one of the biggest orgasms you had in your life, and you didn’t know he could do this. You couldn’t believe he had this power all along. Your eyes followed his fingers as he smirked at you, darting his tongue out.
“What–” He closed his eyes as he licked his fingers and then put them in his mouth, sucking on your juices, on the awaited climax and he didn’t contain the pleased moan. He felt his dick twitch at your taste. Sweet. Very sweet. Like a peach.
That action made your entire self burn up once again, the shakiness slowly stopping as he opened his eyes again to look at you. Your chest was going up and down as you caught your breath, and he tilted his head in question at you.
“What’s wrong, friend?” Your eyes widened as anger rose from deep within once again. It gave you the needed strength to pull yourself from the wall, feeling your juices running down your inner thighs, and your hand found the back of his head so you could pull him down and kiss him again, ferociously, bruisingly.
He groaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you as he took a step back, and guided you into his room, his foot hooking onto the edge of the door and pushing it closed with a slam. You weren’t even phased at the sound of it, you just kept kissing him as one of his hands was splayed on your back while the other was kneading your ass, fondling it. In that small walk, your broken thong fell down your leg, and naturally stepped out of it.
Your hands found purchase on his biceps, running towards his chest and then downwards to the hem of his shirt. You tugged on it, and he broke away from your lips, desperately, his breath hitting you as he ripped his shirt off his body, throwing it somewhere in the room and then slamming his mouth against yours again.
You wanted to look at him, see the body you saw on the instagram stories, the one you took a screenshot of and resides in the gallery of your phone. But you cannot stop kissing him, it’s too addictive and he feels the same with you. He was eating you whole as if he were trying to suck the soul out of your body and maybe he was. 
His hands moved towards your shoulders and he quickly put them underneath your straps, pushing them down your arms. While he did that, your hands went towards his belt, unbuckling him, but he stopped you, pulling away from the kiss. His eyes opened the same time yours did and your pupils clashed together, but before you could think, his hands pressed on your chest and you were pushed backwards, making you yelp.
Your back bounced against his soft mattress, and your breathing was quick, elaborated, and you raised yourself up on your elbows to see him intensely looking at you, ripping his belt away from him. Your mouth filled with saliva as you saw his body, the tattoos that scattered all over his chest, tummy, arms, and part of his neck and you just wanted to reach out, run your hands all over, and lick and trace each patch of ink.
He quickly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them before pulling them down his legs with a harsh push, and when he straightened up, your eyes almost bulged out of your skull. Your eyes were trained on the bulge that was strained in his boxers as he looked down at you. 
He was huge. The biggest you’ve ever seen.
He knew his size, and he knew how this would go, just like all the times that he had sex, he knew it was going to be too much. But that wasn’t going to stop him from having you, not at all. He stepped out from his pants and boots, and he reached down towards you, his hands dipping into the top of your dress and tugging it down from your body. You helped by raising your upper body off the mattress, and then your hips as he undressed you from your last garment of clothing. 
He threw the dress to the side and unclasped your heels, and you shook them off, your eyes never leaving his bulge, your cunt throbbing at the thought of having it. He dove in again, crawling on top of you, guiding the two of you to the middle of the bed, his right knee hooking underneath the back of your left one, and he pushed it upwards, spreading your legs for him to slot himself in between them. And then, you felt him.
You threw your head back at the feeling of him against your pussy. You knew your juices were drenching the fabric of his boxers but you didn’t care and he didn’t either. The only thing the two of you could think of right now was to fuck like rabbits, fuck eachother into oblivion, fuck eachother until one of you simply passes out.
His lips found your neck as he rubbed himself against your wet cunt, finally moaning into your skin as he got some friction on his cock. He heard your moans, your arms wrapping around him and then the feel of your nails on his back, scratching as his thrusts were a little harsher. His patience was running thin as he felt a sweat all over his body. His chest felt as if it were on fire and he knew that if he didn’t have you now he was going to go crazy.
Your hips moved against his and nothing felt more delicious than this. You barely recognized yourself. This felt too good and you weren’t ashamed of your actions, of showing just how turned on you were.
But you wanted a taste first.
Your hands moved to his shoulders and you used your strength to push him away and rolled the two of you over so you would be on top of him. He bounced underneath you, a little startled at the change of position. You were looking down at him and he finally saw how much lust your eyes were holding for him, and it probably matched his.
You dipped down, and your lips kissed his neck, making him close his eyes at the feeling while your hips were rubbing against his bulge. You moaned into his skin, feeling your clit being hit just right. You sighed as you started moving downwards, your lips kissing his torso, his eyes opening to look down at you. 
No one did this for him. He didn’t mind that they never did but now he realizes what it feels to be truly desired. It felt like you were worshiping him and fuck if he didn’t love it. Your kisses found way towards his stomach, his small formed abs as you kept crawling backwards and then a bit of panic set in him as you held the hem of his boxers.
You bit your bottom lip as you pulled away, hooked your fingers and pulled those boxers down, and the moment his dick sprung out, your eyes widened at the sight. It was longer than average, thick, and you never saw anything like it before. You were awestruck, but Eddie thought otherwise.
He thought you were hesitating, wondering if you would feel pain. It was always the same for him. They would retreat slightly at the sight of it and he would promise to not go all the way, and he always kept that promise. He opened his mouth to say something, to tell you that you didn’t need to do anything, but then he felt something he hadn’t felt in a while.
You leaned down, your tongue lolling out of your mouth, and licked over his tip. He held in a whimper as he raised himself up on his elbows to watch you. You were on all fours, ass in the air as your upper body leaned down so that you could lick him, with the flat of your tongue, from base to tip. 
He shuddered at the feeling, and he could see how hypnotized you were with him, and that made his dick twitch. A smile broke on your face as your hand wrapped around it, letting the other one rest on his thigh. He then saw you let a drop of saliva fall out of your mouth and onto the tip. Your hand went upwards and you lubricated it with your saliva and then you moved it back downwards, starting to slowly stroke it.
He groaned into his throat, throwing his head back at the feeling, only for his eyes to snap open again and look back down to you. Your mouth closed on his tip, sucking on it and his mouth dropped open at how you looked. He felt his stomach turn as you took more of him into your mouth and you moaned, sending vibrations all around him.
Oh, you were fucking perfect. He hasn’t been inside you yet and you are already the best he’s ever had. Your eyes were closed as you started to slowly bob your head up and down, helping yourself with your hand to reach the rest of his cock you know you won’t be able to fit into your mouth. 
You were getting wetter as you sucked him off, his moans filling your ears as you slurped on his cock. You’ve never felt this hungry for a dick before, like, you’ve never had this intense need of tasting it before. But Eddie… Eddie you needed a taste of. It’s not even about reciprocation of him eating you out, it’s pure desire. Your own desire.
You needed to know how far you could take him, so you unwrapped your hand from around him and relaxed your throat. You breathed through your nose as you bobbed downwards, taking more than before and his eyes widened as you kept going. You almost made it, a little more than half in your throat, but then you gagged, knowing it was your limit.
He whimpered, and it was the most delightful sound you heard from him yet. Eddie Munson whimpering. You should record it. You moved upwards and your hand wrapped around him again, as you continued bobbing your head. You moaned when you started tasting the precum in your tongue, and it was tangy, a little bitter, but it was still good. 
Eddie was breathing heavily as he saw you pulling away with a ‘pop’ only for your tongue to dart out and dip the tip of it on his slit. 
“Oh, fuck me.” He threw his head back as he closed his eyes, feeling them rolling to the back of his head. You smiled with satisfaction as you kissed his tip before getting it into your mouth again and swirling your tongue all around it. His eyes snapped wide open and his hips jerked when you rubbed his frenulum with the tip of your forsaken tongue. 
You took him back in and you quickened the pace of your head bobbing and your hand. You heard yourself slurping, your saliva all over his dick, and your hand helping the movements. His belly tightened and you saw it as his hips jerked slightly when you, once more, teased his frenulum. You pulled away with a pop and smirked as you looked at him with half-lidded eyes, saliva running down your chin.
“Someone is liking this a bit too much, isn’t he?” It was time to be cocky with him and his eyebrows met in the middle, as if he were angry, and he glared at you as you looked back down on his dick. Your pussy throbbed as your smile faded from your face.
You wanted it. You needed it. Maybe it is what you have been needing all this time. Maybe this– Maybe you could finally feel full. You bit your bottom lips as you desperately tugged on the hem of his boxers to pull them all the way down. He caught on and raised his hips to help you remove them. You wiped your mouth afterwards with the back of your hand. 
You raised your head to look at him, to ask him where the condoms were but he was already stretching to the side, opening his drawer. You bit your lip as he took out a black foil condom, getting himself back in the middle of the bed. He sat up and looked at you as he ripped the foil open with his teeth. Your hands instantly flew to grab the condom from his hand before he could react. 
He closed his eyes as his jaw clenched when he felt you rolling the condom down on his cock. He needed to fuck you like… yesterday. He opened his eyes again, ready to throw you to the side so he could get on top, but his eyes expressed confusion when you threw one leg on the other side of his hip and you pressed your hands on his chest, urging him to lay back down. 
You could literally have hearts in your eyes from how cock drunk you felt, without the cock being inside you yet. You rubbed yourself along the shaft, letting your juices lubricate it. Eddie winced, loving it, but he had to warn you, he had to tell you he had to change positions.
“Sweetheart– Peach– Listen–” You glared down at him as he talked, and his eyebrows were knitted into a worried frown as your hand got in between them and you raised your hips upwards.
“You regretting this Munson?” Your voice was low, challenging, and fuck no. He would never regret any of this. Ever. His hands gripped your hips, trying to warn you not to move.
“No, fuck no Peach, but I have to warn you–” He choked in surprise when he felt his tip go inside of you, and fuck you were so warm, but he had to stay focused. He could hurt you if he didn’t. “Sweetheart– It won’t–”
“Shut up Eddie, for fuck sake–” Your hands gripped on his chest as you sank lower and lower and his eyes were wide as he saw himself disappear in you, his fingers digging into your skin as he felt you engulf him more and more, and you were reaching the area that he knows would be painful if you tried any further. He gasped out, looking back up at you.
“Shit– Shit–!” He was trying, but you were deaf to his words. He felt himself burning inside out but you, your eyes were going wide as you threw your head back. There was more and more, and it never stopped. The stretch was insane, and Eddie– Eddie wasn’t shutting up.
“Munson–!” It was your last warning before you slammed down on him.
His eyes went wide as he choked a gasp, his head thrown back onto the pillow as he felt you engulf him completely. As he felt someone taking him all for the first time. Covering that area that no other girl could ever take. He was choking on his breaths, the sensations sending vibrations and shocks all over his body. He had to check if you were okay, first and foremost. He looked back at you, his eyes still wide as he breathed heavily.
Your head was thrown back with blown eyes, and you were trying to regain your breath that was knocked out of you. You felt… you felt– Full. You were filled. Fuck, it feels good. He feels so fucking good. A shiver ran down your spine as your senses started to kick in from the initial shock. With your head thrown back, you raised your hips back up and Eddie’s gaze turned down to where the two of you were connected and then–
You slammed back down again, knocking a loud groan from him and a delighted moan from you.
Oh, how good it felt. He was so deep, so deep inside you and you needed to feel it even more. More. More. More. You were primal, and it was a new feeling that you didn’t want to stop. You were oblivious to how Eddie was feeling, not knowing that he had never bottomed out before.
So, you weren’t aware of how he was staring at you. How his eyes were wide and his chest was bright red. How he trembled every other second. And now, he saw you raise yourself up again, your hands on his chest to use as leverage before you slammed back down once more, knocking another moan out of his lips.
You were adjusting, and you rutted your hips on him, back and forth, and you moaned loudly as you felt the tip of him just abusing your g-spot in each hip thrust. He was speechless as he looked at you. You weren’t in pain, you were enjoying this. You were moaning, and he could hear the squelching your juices made against his pelvis.
Against his fucking pelvis.
You smiled with delight, and you closed your eyes as you finally let your head fall forward, and Eddie saw your contorted face of pleasure. His mouth was open in awe as he stared at you, and then you raised your hips back up and that’s when you started a slow pace. A slow, but deep pace.
His hands were gripping tightly onto your hips, and he felt his body becoming hotter and hotter, his mind becoming hazier as if something was trying to take control of him. Your pace started catching more rhythm and you started bouncing on him, choking moans out of your lips as you felt him hit the deepest parts within you.
“Fuck– Fuck– It feels so fucking good, what the fuck–” You were spouting nonsense, yet it was still the truth. You were confused, not recognizing yourself, your voice, your desperate movements, and how your mind was being rendered stupid. You never felt this, with anybody, not even with Billy.
He twitched inside of you, everytime your walls rubbed over the base of his cock made him choke. How the fuck were you able to do this? Maybe there were in fact people made for him, and you are just one of them. His pupils dilated, his breathing heavy as he started groaning through his teeth at each bounce you did on him. 
Your nails dug into his chest as you kept going and then your eyes opened to look down at him. His hips raised up from the bed and his grip on your hips tightened. You could see his jaw clenching as a vein popped out from his neck. His nose flared and you thought you were seeing an animal for a second there and then–
Your mouth fell open as he started thrusting in and out of you, wildly, keeping you in place so you wouldn’t bounce down on him. He was abusing your insides and it was so good, so fucking good. You heard the slapping of skin, the squelches, and your choked moans as you looked down at him, but you weren’t really seeing. You couldn’t focus your sight, feeling a pleasure you’ve never felt before.
He was taking and taking, letting himself go wild for the first time in his life. It was an ecstasy he never felt before, and he just felt– so feral. The moment he noticed your cockdrunk face, he knew that you weren’t in pain. He knows you are loving it just as much as he is. 
He kept going, abusing your cervix in the most amazing of ways, your g-spot being rubbed over and over. Your belly burned, your climax slowly building up, and his eyes were trained on your body as it shook from how fast he was pumping himself in and out of you. He saw you leaning down as your back arched upwards, your mouth open in a constant ‘o’ as your eyebrows met in the middle.
One of his hands shot from your hip to the back of your neck, his thrusts never stopping, not even feeling the slightest bit tired. His touch made your eyes clash with his. You couldn’t even formulate a word, just choked moans as he kept going. He growled as he pulled you down, making your face dive in the crook of his neck while his other hand moved and his whole arm wrapped around your waist.
Your eyes widened when you felt your spongy part being stimulated more than before. The bending forward, helping his cock reach it. Your nails dug into his chest as you moaned into his neck, a babbling mess, drool coming out of your mouth.
“Fuck– Baby–” He moaned your name as he gave one sharp thrust, sitting deep inside you, making you gasp, your breath knocked out as the two of you breathed heavily. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you felt like your whole body was up in flames. You were growing tired, but you didn’t want this to end. No. Your hips instinctively moved on him, back and forth and he cursed under his breath.
Your world turned, and now you were looking at the ceiling, your chest going up and down as you tried to catch your breath. He was on top of you, his dick still deep inside of you, both his elbows on each side of your head. You looked beautiful like this, wrecked by him, drooling, tears slipping out of your eyes. Good.
He leaned down to take your lips with his, and his hips started to slowly move against you, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you parted your legs even farther for him. You moaned into the kiss as he rolled his hips, meditated thrusts that were smoothly deep, and all too delicious.
His tongue invaded your mouth when a moan left you, and you felt his base rubbing against your clit at each push forward. You could hardly focus on the kiss. Your mind a hazy mess, the only thought process being, ‘I need more’.
You were intoxicating, poisonous, and yet addictive. He won’t be able to get enough of you, he knows it. This won’t be enough and he hopes it won’t be either. He will make sure it won’t. He’ll make sure you will still want this afterwards. He’ll make sure you remember how he felt, what he made you feel, how he made you scream.
He pulled away from the kiss and raised his upper body up, looking down at your disheveled form. One of his hands went behind your left knee, holding your leg as he started moving a little faster than before. Your hands gripped the sheet beneath you as you stared at his form, at his eyes looking down at you. 
It felt like an out-of-body experience, for the both of you, forgetting who the two of you were, or what relationship you had before this. He does remember the amount of times, the mouth that is now crying out his name at each thrust said mean things to him, and it prompted him to slam his hips harder into you.
“Eddie–!” You choked out, your belly turning, coiling all around as your climax kept growing and growing. His harsh thrusts making you jerk upwards, the bed slightly swaying back and forth at the movement. He smirked through his breaths, the sweat on his forehead and chest glistening with the soft and bright moonlight coming through his windows.
He looked down at where the two of you were connecting over and over again and he still could not believe he was bottoming out, that all of him was being engulfed by someone, by you of all people. He groaned as he felt your walls fluttering around him and you started choking on your own moans.
He looked back at you, leaning downwards again, his arms cradling your head, his breath on your ear as his thrusts turned short and fast. Your eyes widened, your hands finding his back, nails dipping into his flesh. It was a perfect rhythm, rubbing you in all the right places, the feeling of his pubic hair creating friction on your clit. 
“You take me so well Peach… fuck– you take me so fucking well–” He moaned out with nothing but the whole truth but it was enough for your walls to start clenching as your back started to arch towards him, your belly burning, turning into itself.
“Oh– Fuck, I’m– I’m gonna–” And he let go of you so he could kneel back up, his thrusts still short and fast but he pressed his right hand on your knee, while his left one pressed on your belly. He darted his thumb out and pressed it on your clit as he pressed down with his palm as well, pushing your belly down. 
You gasped, arch arching as your hands were now gripping the pillow under your head, moans, grunts, groans, whines, whimpers and his name. His name was on your lips like a prayer, like a worship. His thumb rubbed circles as he watched intensely, his curiosity and his need for you to cum around him, for him to feel it for the first time making him go insane.
You took a sharp intake of breath as you felt yourself break, coming undone, vision seeing stars as you clenched all around him, with a death grjp. Your climax hit you once again, whimpering and squealing at the intensity of it, and Eddie… Eddie was grunting through his teeth as he felt you clench around him, around his cock, from tip to base. It felt too good. Way too fucking great. 
He didn’t want you to stop climaxing, he couldn’t. He needed it again, he needed you to keep clenching on him like this. He whimpered at the feel of you, looking down at his dick going in and out of you still, with a bit of restraint that felt incredible. Your body fell on the bed again, your walls unclenching after a few seconds and his hands moved towards your hips, his thrusts unrelenting, not letting you rest up.
“You– You’re gonna give me one more Peach.” Your eyes were watery at the overstimulation, but fuck if you didn’t want it to stop. His chest was ignited with newfound fire, his balls starting to tighten, but no, he wasn’t going to cum until he felt you around his dick again, until you cum around him once more. This new experience was just too great for him.
“I– I don’t know– Fuck– I don’t know if I can–” You mumbled, bouncing at his mercy as he kept railing into you. He only chuckled through his moans, and you could hear a low growl coming from deep within his chest. He guided your hips to meet his thrusts and your hands flew to the headboard, trying to ground yourself into a hard surface as it started slamming against the wall thanks to how hard he was thrusting into you. 
“Yeah, you fucking can. I won’t stop until you give me another.” He was demanding, ordering you to do something you didn’t know if you even could, but he did indeed not let you rest. He didn’t let you ride the orgasm out. He didn’t let you take a breather. Your G-Spot never stopped throbbing, and you could feel the coil in your belly start to alarmingly turn again. When your eyes widened as he felt your pussy flutter, he only smirked, “There she is.”
His pace quickened, sweaty skin snapping against yours, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP. It was echoing all over the room, just as loud as your moans, your cries, feeling your whole body burning up, tensing, your muscles trembling now and then as you were on the edge of falling off the cliff.
“Shit, shit, shit, Eddie– Oh god– Oh fuck–” You cried out, almost sobbing as tears of pleasure rolled down the side of your face, throwing your head back onto the pillow as your walls started clenching and unclenching around him and he moaned over you, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist now.
“Fuck yes baby, cum around my cock. I need to feel it again– Please, please–” And you cried his name out as you arched your back off the bed, and he groaned in pleasure, your name tumbling out his lips as you tightened all around his cock. This orgasm was the biggest of them all, of the last two you had. You’ve never had a multiple orgasm before, and it felt so good. 
He was breathing heavily, his chest red all over, and he clenched his teeth as if baring them. His vision went white and he clenched his eyes, tightly, relishing in the feeling of you around him. All it took was two more pumps into your tight heat and then– He came.
He grunted loudly as he shook all over, a whimper mixing in the middle of his breaths as he felt his seed shooting into the condom, spurt after spurt. This was the hardest he’d ever cum in his entire life. You whined as you felt him seething inside of you as he came, and amid your post orgasm, you could see his contorted face. A face that showed pleasure.
The last shot came, and he sighed out with trembling breaths, his heavy panting mixing with yours. He slowly opened his eyes to find you lying before him, eyes now closed as you tried to stop your legs from shaking. The overstimulation was now painful, and all you wanted was to rest. You were drained and so was he.
He groaned and you whined when he slowly pulled out from you, his eyes slightly widening at the amount of cum that was at the tip of the condom. He saw how spent you were, and he leaned down, kissing your cheek softly, his voice low, almost a whisper.
“Rest Peach, I’ll clean you up.” You mumbled something, your brain slowly shutting off, your energy gone. Your conscious mind was already squashed, can’t even think of what had just happened. 
Eddie crawled backwards, his legs trembling as he got on his own two feet, huffing as he felt them wanting to give up on him. He shook his head to center himself again, tying the condom and walking out of his room to go into his bathroom. He threw the condom in the trash and turned to look at himself in the mirror.
He was still breathing heavily, less than before, but still pretty heavy. He saw his face, flushed and then his neck and chest were red. His pupils were still dilated and he took a deep breath in to calm himself down, making numbers in his head to figure out if he missed any of his pills. But he didn’t. 
His body reacted to you in ways it never did with other girls. He’ll have to ask if it could be possible, but in the meantime… His hands went to the sink, washing them, growling when he remembered– He shook his thoughts away. He can’t think like that. He sounds possessive and he is not like that. He can’t be like that.
He brushed his teeth and washed his face. He grabbed a small towel and drenched it in warm water. He cracked his neck as he walked out of the bathroom again and entered his room, to see you in the same position, but he now knows you had fallen asleep. He walked towards you and he pressed the towel on your inner thigh, making you flinch but you didn’t wake. He cleaned you up, being extra careful when he passed over your puffed up pussy. 
He smirked in victory at the sight of it, at how much of your own climax he gathered in the towel. He flipped it inside out and with it he cleaned the drool and tears off your face. You started mumbling something as he held your face in his hand, looking down at you.
“Eddie…” You breathed out. He felt a tug somewhere in his body, but he didn’t know where. He clenched his jaw as he pulled away, putting the towel on the night table. He knew the two of you would talk the next day. He was excited about it, wondering what is going to happen between the two of you after this. 
He wrapped you in his blankets and then got into bed next to you. Your body instantly felt his, and you moved to cuddle his arm. He chuckled at you, his gaze looking up at the ceiling as he realized his energy was too spent, too drained. His eyelids started to drop, the images of you flashing behind them.
He had so many questions, but maybe there were just no answers to them. It was simply that way. But out of all the girls he’s been with… you, being the only one… He had to stop thinking about it, maybe he was just trying to look for something that had no explanation. He gulped as a smile broke on his face. One thing is for certain.
It will happen again… and again… and again. 
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end of chapter 17
a/n: after 17 chapters, now that's slowburning at its finest.
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bunnywritesjunk · 1 year
Text
My King
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Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?
Chapter summary: You find out König's birthday is coming up.
Pairing: König x Fem Reader
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, Arousal (does that count as a warning?)
Word count: 2.9k
Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.
A/n: ok, ya'll go feral for domestic Konig. Honestly same though. I love a slow burn because I want to watch you guys suffer! Mwhahahahaha. I hope you guys enjoy.
Previous Chapter
Chapter Three:
Over a week, you and König fell into a comfortable routine. You felt like a middle schooler with a crush around him. Every morning, one of you would wake the other and greet each other with a kiss. You'd be lying if you said you didn't look forward to it. Konig made an effort not to be too forceful with his affection, but he can't help it sometimes. 
“König! I have to work, move!” You giggled.
He currently had your arms pinned to your sides tightly. He held you down on the couch as his face inched closer to yours. 
“No, one more kiss Liebe.” 
“I gave you so many!” You tried to wiggle out of his grasp.
“One more before I go.” He looked at you sadly. 
“It's just the grocery store König, you'll live.” 
He looked at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes he could muster. You gave in and pecked his lips quickly. He chased your lips as you pulled away, capturing them once again before releasing you. You sat up and pouted at him as he put on his mask. He waved to you cheekily before leaving. All the laughing made your bladder urge you to go. You walked into the bathroom and did your business. As you washed your hands something on the edge of the sink caught your eye. His dog tags were there, probably placed there this morning. You picked them up curiously. They had just his name König, no last name. Was that his real name? His company and date of birth were also on there. It read October 4th. Your eyes widened. His birthday was in a couple of days, why didn't he tell you? 
You rushed out of the bathroom and to your computer to make a note on your calendar. You knew Konig was a private person, he barely talked about his childhood or any family he might have. You didn't pry for these things, he would tell you in his own time. But his birthday?! That was unacceptable. You decided to plan a little surprise for him, an intimate surprise party. Honestly, he didn't seem like the type to celebrate his birthday. Now that you are here, that's gonna change. 
You sat at the dining room table doing a little bit of research on what you could do for him. You got lost in researching cute little decorations and food, you jumped when the door opened. You quickly changed tabs and pretended to be writing. Königset the groceries down on the table and took off his mask. You looked up at him and smiled. He walked around the table and put his phone and wallet on the table while kissing your cheek. You got up to help him put the groceries away eyeing his phone. You didn't know how to get him to leave you for a couple of hours to execute the surprise, but you had an idea. After the food was put away he went to his room. You moved quickly grabbing his phone. It was a flip phone, you didn't know those still existed. His most used contact was you, but under that two other names popped up. Ghost, and Soap. Military names... You decided to take Soap's number down, too intimidated by the name Ghost to ask him. You hoped this person could help you out. You put his phone back in the same spot he placed it and sat down inconspicuously. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You said goodnight to König with a kiss and closed your door. Sitting on the edge of your nest you nervously composed your text to whoever soap was. 
'Hello, Soap! I know this is weird but I'm König's Omega. I got your number from his phone. I have a favor to ask you if you're up for it. I hope this isn't too unprofessional for him.'
You sent the text, immediately placing your phone down to try to forget about it. You brainstormed other ideas in case this one didn't work out. Your phone buzzed and you gasped quietly. You picked up your phone and looked at the notification, Soap had texted you back.
'Definitely weird to hear from you lol. I hoped to meet you in real life before we spoke but this is ok as well. What kind of favor?'
'I'm sorry about that. The reason I'm contacting you is because König's Birthday is in a few days on October 4th. I was hoping that someone can get him out of the house for a few hours while I set up his surprise. He never leaves my side, so I just need some time. He doesn't seem to have any friends outside of work so...'
'I see, that's no problem love. It takes him about an hour and a half to get to the base. So I'll make him come in for something little. That should give you about 3 to 4 hours.' He responded.
'Omg, that would be great! Thank you so so so much! I'll be sure to get you something when we meet Soap.'
'You're welcome. I could already tell you're a sweetheart doing something like this for the colonal'
'You flatter me :)' 
You went to bed that night proud of yourself. The plan was underway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was hard keeping König out of the loop. He was over your shoulder constantly interested in things you were doing. He almost caught you ordering a cake. You planned to have an at-home movie night for him. You'd have to get snacks, the cake, and balloons, as well as make the pillow fort. You made a meticulous list of what to buy at every store and your walking path to optimize time. Making the pillow fort was gonna take the longest. You were gonna make a nest inside and invite him into it. You haven't let him into your bedroom nest officially but you'd like to soon, this could be a good introduction to that. When the day came around Soap warned you that König might be a little upset on the day. He explicitly told his soldiers not to contact him while he was on leave. 
Pissed was an understatement. König was fuming. He tried to hide it from you but his scent was so sour it was hard for you to be in the room. 
“What's wrong Alpha?” He rushed through the apartment almost stomping. 
“Nothing Schatz.” He responded shortly. 
You almost felt bad making him this upset. You hoped it would be worth it. König told you he would be gone for a couple of hours and promptly left. You looked out the window, watching him get into the car and drive off. You texted Soap asking for the all-clear. 
'Is he on his way?' 
'Yes, he's gonna kill me. I told him that he needed to come in but it was only for some paperwork Ghost could've done.' 
' I'll tell him that it was all me and to let you off the hook. I'm gonna bake you something you like cookies?' 
'Love them.' 
'Good.'
You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. The first stop was to get his gift. You wanted to get him something he needed but also something sentimental. You landed on a leather briefcase. Although he was on leave, there were still things he needed to sign off on as a corporal. His documents were always splayed out on the table only to be messily placed in a folder. The shop that makes them does hand embroidery. You requested them to put your's and Konig's initials' on it with a heart in the middle. It was in a beautiful font on the front corner of the bag. The bag pick up was fast as it was only a ten-minute walk. Next was the party store. You weren't going to overdo it with the decor but you wanted it to be a little festive. It took you a little while to pick out things but you eventually settled on simple green balloons and a happy birthday banner. You also got a box and wrapping paper for your gift. 
You checked the time a little over an hour went by so far. König has to be close to the base by now. Soap will text you when he's on his way back. The next and last stop was the grocery store. You were gonna make him a classic American dinner, save for the red dye 40. Burgers and American-style fries were the way to go since you were sure you wouldn't be able to find much American food in Amsterdam. As you were gathering the ingredients Soap texted you. 
'König is on his way home. I couldn't convince him that he should stay for a few more minutes. It should take him 2 hours because of traffic.'
'Shit ok, thanks for the heads up. I appreciate you Soap.'
'No problem, Love. Take pictures for ghost and I please.'
'Of course.'
You practically ran through the grocery store to pick up the last items and checked out. When you got home you were sweaty and out of breath. You had two hours to cook, set up the fort, wrap his gift, and decorate. You had your work cut out for you. You didn't bother putting the groceries away, placing them on the kitchen counter, and running to your room. You grabbed extra blankets that you didn't use for your nest and put them in the living room. You hung a sheet with thumbtacks and lined it with pillows. The fort didn't take as long as you thought it would. You chalked it up to your nesting skills. You hung some fairy lights on the inside making sure you still had a good view of the TV. You went to the dining room table and began wrapping the briefcase. you brought a simple brown paper with moons on it. After you finished you started blowing up balloons. After you blew up a few balloons you froze. 
The Cake! How could you forget! You called the bakery telling them you were on your way. You checked the time. You only had an hour left. You left the door unlocked and power walked down the street. You kept checking the time watching the clock run down. It took you seven minutes to get to the bakery. They handed you the cake and you power walked back to the apartment careful not to bump the cake. You placed the cake in the fridge and preheated the oven before blowing up more balloons. You had forty minutes left and you still had to cook. Once you were satisfied with the amount of balloons you placed the fries in the oven and started making the burgers. You had 25 minutes left. 
While the burgers were cooking you got the toppings ready and took the cake out placing it on the table. The burgers were cooked you assembled them on a plate and piled fries on the side. You made very American concoctions of condiments. Mayo and ketchup, ranch and mustard, ketchup and ranch. You placed the plates on the table. You ran to change into PJs and turn the lights down. You found some candles to use on the table making the mood romantic. Movement outside caught your eye. You pulled the curtain back seeing König's car pulling into a parking space. You glanced around once more making sure everything was in order. You stood near the dining room table waiting for him to open the door. The key turned and in walked a very annoyed-looking König. 
“Surprise!” You said sheepishly.
König's eyes widened. He had his sniper hood on but promptly took it off. He looked around at the decorations and then toward the table. 
“You...Schatz, what is this?” 
“Your birthday party! Happy birthday Konig.” 
König closed the door slowly his eyes taking in everything you set up for him. He had an unreadable expression on his face making you a bit nervous. 
“Do you like it?” You asked.
König's face dropped. He covered his face with both of his hands. He tried to hold back the tears but they fell anyway. You grabbed his arms trying to soothe him. 
“Oh no! I'm sorry Alpha please don't cry. Did I do something wrong?”
König chuckled through his sobs. “No Schatz. I'm just...very surprised.”
He pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, Omega.”
You hugged him back. “Why are you crying, König?”
“I've never celebrated my birthday. My parents never did anything for me. This is a nice surprise.”
“Come, let's eat.” You guide him to the table.
His plate had a bigger burger with more fries. He sat down the tears still dropping occasionally. 
“Don't be mad at Soap.” You said. König looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. 
“You know Soap? How?”
“Well, I had to find a way to get you out of the house for a few hours so I kinda got his number from your phone and convinced him to make you come into work for something stupid so I had time to set this all up.” You said without taking a breath.
“Wow, what a plan liebe.” He chuckled.
“You didn't have to do all this for me.” He said
“I know, but I wanted to. So please let Soap off the hook colonel? ” You smiled. 
“Sure liebe.” 
The two of you ate as he asked you about your sneaky plans to make this happen and how he suspected nothing. After you were done you cut him a slice of cake and sent him to change into PJs. You formally invited him into the fort you built making sure he was cozy. 
“Ok so we have a few options, but I also wanted to surprise you with the movie. Pick a number between one and five.”
“Hmm, four.” 
“Ok close your eyes.” He covered them and you searched for the movie. He chose 'V for Vendetta'. Once the movie was on you told him he could look. 
“What is this?” He asked
“V for Vendetta. I love this movie.”
“I have never seen it.”
“Good, you're in for a treat.”
You cuddled him tightly in the nest fort. He fed you your slice of cake so you wouldn't have to move. Suddenly you gasped and grabbed the remote to pause the movie. 
“Ugh, I forgot again! My brain is all over the place today.” 
You ran to your room and grabbed his birthday present. back in the fort, you gave it to him. 
“Happy Birthday Alpha.” 
“This is too much Liebe.” 
“Just open it!”
He tore the paper and opened the box, taking care not to make a mess. When he saw the briefcase his lips parted slightly taking in the detail you added to it. The urge to cry was overwhelming to him but he held it back. 
“I don't deserve you.” He said.
“No, you deserve more.”
He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down into the nest resting his cheek against your forehead.
“How can I thank you?”
“There's no repayment for a birthday gift König.”
“There will be for you.”
“No no, it's not my birthday.” You insisted. 
“I don't care.” He gave you a stubborn look.
“König-”
“Be quiet, I won't say it again.” He said sternly.
You nodded. When he put his foot down it was extremely difficult for you to defy him. The Apex rarely used his authority over you like that but you supposed he didn't know how to simply accept someone doing something nice for him. Despite his stern tone he caressed for face giving you sweet kisses on your cheek and forehead. You smiled and leaned into him. You hit play on the movie holding him until you both fell asleep. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You stirred awake feeling weight on your waist. You looked back seeing König sleeping form. He almost looked boyish, hair messy, and a König's until he woke up naturally before moving, not wanting to wake him from his peace-filled rest. It didn't take long before König's eyes fluttered open. You turned to his and smiled. He kissed you deeply. You returned the kiss with passion, his tongue slipped into your mouth licking yours playfully. When he pulled away s a string of saliva was connecting the two of you. 
“Good morning to you too.” You giggled.
You sat up and stretched. You cleaned up the fort a bit from last night putting his gift in his room. He followed you around sleepily trying to help you tidy up. After you finished you went back into the nest fort and turned the TV on. König followed you in, collapsing beside you. 
He grabbed your hips pulling your ass against him. His hand trailed up your front resting loosely around your neck. König has been keeping his sexual urges at bay, his resolve was starting to chip away every day. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, the tip of his nose brushing against your scent glands. You shivered and clenched your legs together. You tried not to let his ministrations get to you but it was proving difficult when he knew exactly how to get you going. 
König pressed a kiss to your scent gland and you moaned softly. Encouraged by the small gasps and moans you gave him, he nibbled and licked the same spot.
“König...” He stopped.
He pulled back and smiled. “Sorry, Liebe.” He got up and headed to the bathroom to shower. 
He left you with a hot face and a puddle in between your legs. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
taglist: I hope all the tags worked
@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken @midwesternwitchery @hiken-no-stark @rouge-swears @the-chaotic-cow @a-gay-cryptid @wybwtjmiadz @somanyminidragons @tizylish @smutslutsposts @y2katsuki @thychuvaluswife @gxdsmonsters
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short-honey-badger · 8 months
Text
Trouble Sleeping
This is pure filthy smut, that's literally it. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings! Smut SMut Smut! ABO universe as well. It's been a looong time since I've written for it. Pre time skip Law btw!
Pairings: Alpha! Trafalger D. Water Law x Omega! Reader
Summary: You notice that your captain hasn't slept in the past couple of days, so you offer to help him relax.
Part 2 ->
Masterlist.
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It’s been what? Two? Three days since the last time Law had gotten a decent night’s rest? If it wasn’t the nightmares keeping him up every time he closed his eyes, then it was his incessant need to plan. To go over the research the alpha had begun to gather about Punk Hazard and Ceasar’s operation. It was all to get closer to Doflamingo of course, but Trafalgar would give anything not to have to deal with the disgusting scientist. 
And to get some rest, but the pirate doubted that would come anytime soon. 
Law wipes his eyes, pushing away from his desk and closing the thick folder of compiled notes. He needed a break, maybe even something to eat, too. The alpha’s stomach grumbled at the thought of food and he stood from his desk, grabbing his hat and fixing it properly on his head.
As he walked through the walls of familiar walls of the Polar Tang, Law thought about the newest member of his crew. While he wasn’t in the habit of picking up strays, you had piqued his interest when you wouldn’t stop bugging him and his crew about learning medicine. To quench his curiosity, Law had allowed you to come on board, and you have been a dutiful student ever since. And despite what Penguin and Shachi liked to think, it was not because you were a pretty omega in need asking for his help. Trafalgar liked to think he was better than his alpha instincts. 
Ah. Speaking of the omega, Law could smell your honeysuckle scent just around the corner. You must been in the galley. 
Law spots you at one of the tables in the corner, nose stuck in a medical text and a half-empty plate of whatever the cooks had made tonight. On a whim, he decides to grab a cup of coffee and his own serving and joins you at your table. You jump when he sets his plate down, but your expression brightens the moment you notice that it is your captain sitting across from you.
“Evening, Cap’n,” you greet, and Law finds his shoulders relaxing when he catches your scent again. It is warm and welcoming, soothing his frayed nerves with ease. 
“_-ya,” Law rumbles back in greeting and meets your eyes, smirking when he notices you watching him. He isn’t surprised when you speak up, but he doesn’t expect you to sound so concerned. 
“Have ya been gettin’ enough sleep Cap’n? Not ta speak out of turn, but you don’t look so good. A-and I’ve seen you roamin’ the halls more than usual,” you’re blushing when you finish, but Law finds your rambling endearing and doesn’t bother lying to you like he might others.
“Not really, little medic, but you shouldn’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” He assures you and then sips his coffee. He glances over to see that the omega doesn’t look very satisfied with his answer, and his instincts make themselves known when he catches a whiff of hot displeasure in your scent. 
Before Trafalgar can do much and possibly make a fool of himself, you speak up again. 
“Well, is there anything that I can do to help?” the omega asks, and Law pauses, arm stalling midair, fork halfway to his mouth. Despite the innocent way you ask the question, his mind goes straight to the gutter, and the pirate captain sees you on your knees in his bed, face down and ass up, presenting beautifully for him. Law can hear the way your cute accent whispers his name, pretty eyes glistening with tears as you beg him for his cock. 
“Cap’n? You okay, there?” A cool hand on his forehead and your soft voice bring the alpha out of his daydream, and he flushes even more at having been caught zoning out like that. 
“Ah, sorry about that, _-ya. Just tired, like I said,” Law murmurs and sets his fork down to hide his face behind his cup of coffee. You assure him that he is fine and tentatively go back to your book when it seems like Law isn’t going to answer your question. 
In reality, the alpha is pondering your question. It was a fact that omegas were able to put alphas in a calming state. Usually, Law wouldn’t mention it, but you had asked if you could do anything for him, and your omega pheromones would most likely do the trick and put him to sleep. 
“You know what,” Law begins and you jerk your head up to look at him, surprised that he’d spoken up, “I think you can help me out, little medic. If you’re done here?”
Your eyebrows jump up, and then the little omega is nodding, a happy smile painting your lips. Law watches you stand and close your book, tucking it under your arm and then tossing your cleaned plate in the sink at the back of the room. He follows your path, and then Law is leading you out of the kitchen and back to his office. 
The alpha keeps going, opening up the door in his office that connects to his bedroom. You tentatively follow after him, and Law’s alpha rumbles in satisfaction at having such a pretty omega in his room. His scent, clean and fresh with a hint of steel, coats everything, and Law quietly hopes that it sticks with you after you leave his room. 
Trafalgar doesn’t think twice about tossing his hat to the side and shrugging off his shirt. His jeans are replaced by a pair of soft sweats, and when he looks at you, your face is bright red, eyes wide in shock. Your scent sweetens with a hint of arousal and Law smirks, it’s a surprise, but not unwelcome.
“You’ve learned a lot while you’ve been here, _-ya. So you know that omegas can manipulate their scents to calm down the other sex in tense situations. It works better when they have been near one another for long periods of time. I’d like for you to do that for me if you’re comfortable with that.” 
Law watches the omega as you think, but it doesn’t take you long to come to a decision. You set your book aside and give him a shy, unsure smile. 
“Got another pair of sweatpants? Jeans aren’t very comfortable to lay down in.”
The alpha chuckles and then sets about finding another pair of sweats. A dark, possessive part of him is delighted at the sight of you standing in his room with a pair of too-big sweatpants, and Law has to fight down the almost overwhelming need to pull you into his bed to scent you. Instead, like the gentleman he is trying to be, Law pulls back the covers of his bed and stands back, offering for you to crawl in first. 
“Make yourself comfortable,” the alpha drawls, and watches with lidded eyes as you slip into his his bed. He follows after and cuts the lights with a flick of his fingers and the use of his devil fruit. Law hears you suck in a sharp breath when he settles in beside you, laying on his side and tossing an arm over your hip. He emits his own calming pheromones and blinks at the back of your head when you take deep, shuddering breaths of his scent. 
The alpha hadn’t expected you to do that, but the sight of you breathing in his scent made his hold on you tighten, and Law pulled you back into his chest, leaning down to bury his face in your hair. He hums when you lift your leg, and he slips his thigh in between your legs, bringing the two of you impossibly closer. 
After that, it is easy for the two of you to relax, honeysuckle and steel mixing to create a unique scent that represents the alpha and omega. Being surrounded by the combined scent leaves Law feeling drowsy, eyes fluttering shut as he shoves his face closer to the scent gland on your neck, desperate for more of that sweet honeysuckle. You squirm for half a second and then settle again, content to help out your captain where you can.
Neither of you expects to fall asleep, but when Law wakes, he feels far more refreshed than he has in a long time. He cracks open his eyes and takes in the new position the two of you shifted to in sleep. Trafalgar lays on his back and the little omega has sprawled over his chest, your face pressed into the hollow of his throat, and arms wrapped around his neck. His arms are wrapped securely around your waist, and Law smiles when you mutter softly and shift in your sleep.
Law contemplates going back to sleep, but then you shift again, and all thoughts of sleep fly out of his mind when your hip brushes against his cock. He fights back a groan, tattooed hands flexing and digging into your soft skin. Fuck. He wants you. He wants your attention, and your pretty eyes and plush mouth on him all the time. The alpha wants to bite you, sink his teeth into your nape, and claim you as his. 
He rolls, trapping you under him, and you wake with a gasp, eyes flying open to stare at your captain who looms above you. He looks frightening in the low light of his room, but the way his scent is wrapped around you is nothing but comforting. You aren’t scared of this dangerous alpha. 
“_-ya,” Law growls your name, dipping down to press his brow against your own, eyes catching yours and glowing with hot arousal, “You did so well for me. Helping me get some rest. Let me reward such a good omega.” 
The way your scent turns hot and sticky with arousal is enough of an answer for Law. He turns his head, keeping himself held up with one arm as the other grips your jaw. Trafalgar’s lips meet your own in a steamy kiss. He smooths his thumb up, catching your bottom lip and tugging it down, pulling your mouth open enough to slip his tongue inside. 
You whine under him, hands digging into his hair to the point of pain, but it only makes the alpha groan into the kiss. Law’s dick throbs in his pants, so he moves, grinding up into the welcoming heat between his legs. The friction is delicious, but it isn’t enough. 
Law lifts himself up, breaking the kiss and leaving you winded. Your pupils are blown, and your mouth is bright red from the way his facial hair has rubbed against your skin. He shimmies down, hands finding the waistband of the sweats you wear and hooking his fingers under them. He makes sure to catch the other elastic band he feels and tugs the pants and your underwear down in one fell swoop. 
“Fuck, you smell so good, Baby,” Law rumbles and shoves his face in the slope of your right, lips mouthing at the minor scent glands there. You cry out and grp his hair even harder, eyes blown wide as you watch him breathe you in, “Like honey and warm desserts.” 
“Y-you smell good too, Cap’n,” You whisper, voice shaking as you try and deal with the pleasure that Law smothers you with, “Clean and fresh. I like it.” 
A low growl erupts in the room and Law rewards your compliment by flattening his tongue and licking a stripe along your entire cunt. The alpha groans at the taste, your slick is just as sweet as you smell, and Trafalgar regrets never asking you to his room sooner. He grabs your hips, lifting them so that he can point his tongue and shove it deep into your leaking hole. 
You wail, curses falling from your lips as you buck your hips against his face, seeking that burning pleasure that only Law can give you. The alpha drinks from you, lewd slurping sounds filling the room until you are bowing forward and pulling him off your cunt. 
Law’s face is soaked in your juices, and he bares his teeth at you for pushing him away. He would know if he’d made you come, and he looks at you to demand an answer. 
“I want you to fuck me, Cap’n,” You say and it stalls Law in his tracks. Your eyes shine with want and you grip his shoulders, nails digging in, “I- I want to come on your cock, not your tongue.” 
The pirate can’t get his pants off fast enough. His lanky legs end up getting tangled in his sweats, but you patiently extract the fabric and toss them to the floor. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, and slick leaks out of you to stain Law’s sheets. The alpha’s dick is the perfect specimen, thick at the base, knot looking inflated already. His length tapers up slightly, only to end in a silky head that leaks with precum. 
“Get on your knees, Baby. Present for me, yeah?” Law orders and you scramble to obey, brain mush with alpha pheromones that leave you feeling fuzzy. 
His omega rolls to their knees, thighs parted in a wonderful display of trust. You bite the pillow under you, whining when your senses are overwhelmed with the scent of your Captain. Tears leak from your eyes and a low cry escapes you when Law drapes himself over your back, cock slotting between your legs and dragging over your pussy. 
Law ruts against you, coating his dick in your slick until his member is nice and soaked. He leans back enough to grab the base, angling it up to run the head of his cock through your folds. You sob at the feeling, back arching and hips shaking in search of him. 
“Please, Law. I’m wet enough, just put it in,” You whine and the alpha growls at the way you beg him. His tip catches your entrance on his neck stroke, and Law doesn’t stop gravity as he sinks into your warm heat. 
You feel amazing around him, walls fluttering and gripping his cock so tightly that Law hisses as he sicks another inch down. His mouth drops, and he sucks in greedy mouthfuls of your scent, leaning down to nip at the gland on your neck where the sweet smell is the most potent. 
“You’re mine after this, got it, omega? No one else can have you this way. No one else can feel your tight cunt other than me,” Law snarls and you nod frantically, face still pressed into the pillows. 
The alpha doesn’t wait any longer, sinking the rest of the way inside and snarling at the way his knot catches on your walls. It's overwhelming, and Law presses his forehead harshly against your shoulder blades to prevent himself from biting you. Now wasn’t the time to try and forge a mating bond. Not when Doflamingo still threatened everything that Law cared for. 
Trafalgar fucks you like a man possessed, hands harsh and fingertips digging in hard enough to leave bruises. He snaps his hips, dragging his cock along your walls as you clench and flutter around him. He changes angles, slowing down only to roughly slam into you, and you shout when his dick catches against that spongy spot inside of you. 
Law grins, teeth bared in a feral grin as he focuses on that spot and pounds into your cunt. Your hands grip the sheets hard enough the tear them, tears leaking down your face as Law abuses that spot inside of you. It’s not long before the alpha has you shouting your name, jaw dropping open in a silent scream as you come around his cock. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Law chants when your cunt constricts around him. He wants to come inside of you, pump you so full of his seed that it would be dripping out for the next week. But knotting you means pups, and those aren’t something that anyone needs right now. 
So, despite his instincts screaming at him to mark you on the inside, Law pulls out when he feels that tension snap, pumping his dick and instead painting your backside and cunt with his spend. He milks his cock, shaking and whining as he gently massages his knot. Your hips have fallen without Law to hold you up, but that doesn’t stop him from draping himself back over the omega, hand finding your hip and rubbing his cum into your skin. He needed to make sure that you were properly covered after all. 
Below him, you settle into the comfy bed and close your eyes. You are content to let your alpha take care of you, and so easily fall back to sleep. 
Your captain snickers softly when he notices that his omega has already dropped back off to sleep, and rolls the two of you to the side, snuggling close and closing his eyes. He’d take you to the shower later, but for now, Law was just happy that you were here to help him go back to sleep too. 
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sarahowritesostucky · 6 months
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Happy Little Family
📖"A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like her Mommy"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4407
Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic
Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.
This chapter: Bucky shows up unannounced at your cottage, shattering the peaceful life you thought you'd reclaimed for yourself and your daughter. He's reclaiming what's his, and he isn't planning on accepting a "no."
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Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one"
1. A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat, Just like her Mommy
"And then the knight took the princess away to his castle, and they lived happily ever after."
You're just outside the nursery when you hear his voice, and ice cold fear instantly floods your chest. You drop the laundry basket and run into the room, and there he is: seated in the chair you nurse from, reading one of the antique fairytale books that your mom gave at the shower, holding your baby. 
"James," you breathe, horrified. He's been smiling down at June, but now his face smooths out as he looks up at you. He isn't frowning or glaring, but you know him, and there's a storm behind those eyes that makes dread curl heavy in your stomach. "Hi Doll," he says quietly. "It's good to see you again."
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Your heart pounds in your chest. You feel sick. One wrong move and who knows what he'll do. You take a cautious step forward, eyes searching James' body and anywhere nearby for a gun. You don't see one. You take another step. "James," you warn,
June makes a happy gurgle at seeing you, and James coos down at her, "Aw, yeah Sweetie. I'm happy to see Mommy too."
Mommy. Hearing that word come out of his mouth, in a setting like this, is a nightmare you've woken from more than once. You lick your lips and hold out your arms, pleading, "Please give her to me."
He acts like he hasn't even heard you, smiling and tapping June's body with one finger. "We were just reading a story. Little lady is gonna be a big reader one day, I bet. Gonna grow up to be real smart." His gaze slides back to you, with what you interpret as a world-of-hurt-coming-your-way look glimmering in his eyes. "A clever, tricky little kitty cat. Just like her Mommy."
A whimper escapes you, unbidden. 
June starts squirming in his lap, eager to get to you. When he doesn’t hand her over, she starts to fuss. He coos at her and bounces her in his arms to calm her, kisses the top of her head while keeping his somber, reproachful eyes on you. “You left your door unlocked,” he says. “She was alone.”
She’d been down for her nap when you went downstairs and popped across the street to visit with Hilde, your one friend in the world. It’s so common for mothers to do, in this tiny, Nordic village you’ve settled in. It’s the culture here. It’s supposed to be safe. You swallow thickly, eyes flitting around to try and think of what to do. You think of your gun, so far away. You’d talked yourself out of keeping it tucked behind your bed, so now the only weapon you own is down in the kitchen. But maybe … maybe if you can get him away from June … 
“You should be more careful, Little thief. You never know who might break in and take everything you love.”
“The only thing we had to guard against here was you,” you hiss. “And I’m not fool enough to think a locked door would keep you out.”
“You’re damned right it wouldn’t.” He tosses the storybook aside like trash and stands up with June in his arms. “But you are a fool if you thought there was anywhere in the world you could go where I wouldn’t find you.”
You flinch forward compulsively, unable to think of your own safety over your baby’s. “Please, James,” you beg. “Please. Just give her to me.” 
“Oh no, Dollface,” he purrs, voice deceptively soft. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and you aren’t gonna want her in the room when it happens.” His hands tighten threateningly on June’s little body. “Whose baby is this?”
You blanch. “Don’t hurt her.” 
“Aw. You don’t want me to hurt her?” 
“No, please!” The sob that’s been working its way up in your throat finally breaks. It’s killing you not to rush forward and snatch her from his arms. “Please, I'll do anything.”
“Is that so?” He stares at you long and hard. The few seconds of silence are torturous as he holds your daughter away from you. 
James is one of the deadliest people you’ve ever met, and he’s capable of horrendous violence, but he wouldn’t hurt a baby, that much you do know. What you have to worry about most right now isn’t him physically hurting her; it’s him wanting her, whisking her away right alongside you, when he inevitably takes you from this place. There’s nothing you can do to prevent your own fate, but if there’s anything you can do to keep him from getting his hands on June, you’ll do it. Your eyes flit around the nursery frantically, its pale, dream-like decorations taunting you as you try to think of what to do. It feels surreal to have a man like James standing in this room, feels wrong.
Your heart leaps when he suddenly moves, but he’s only turning to walk over to the crib, bending and placing June in it with a surprising amount of care. Something painful lances in your chest at seeing him handle her so gently, but when he turns back around to you, all of that gentleness is gone. “Come on,” he snaps. “To the other bedroom.” 
You hesitate, not wanting to leave your daughter alone, but he stalks forward and grabs your upper arm, herding you out of the nursery and down the hallway. In your bedroom, he pushes you onto the bed. You land in a heap and scramble to prop back up on your hands, trying to swipe the hair out of your face.
“Whose baby is that?” he demands. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”
His Voice. God. After almost a year and a half it should be lessened. The pull you feel when you hear it has no right to tug at you the way it does. You’re not even mated, which makes it all the more insulting. It gets in through your ears and spreads throughout your body, like an invasive plant, growing and sinking its roots into you and tug, tug tugging on your will: Whose baby is that.
You fight the awful urge to tell him, as you rapidly, fearfully weigh your options. It’s hard to think when you’re so frightened, so taken aback. Most people might think it wise to admit the truth, but you know this man, this alpha, and you know he’ll never let her go if he knows that she’s his. Anything, you think. You have to do anything you can to keep her from that life, that world. 
Heart in your throat, you insist, “Noone.”
“Noone?” His visage darkens. “Artificial insemination, then? I know they’re progressive and all up here, but don’t take me for a fool, mamochka.”
“It was just some guy! Just a one night stand, I swear!”
He surges in, gets one knee up on the bed and pushes you onto your back when you try to get up, leaning over you and holding you down by your shoulders. “So you did let another man fuck you,” he growls.
You jut your chin out and hiss, “Yes.” (Lying Rule #1: deliver your bullshit with confidence).
“Who? Was he alpha?”
“Why do you care? It was one night in Oslo.” (Rule #2: add in one or two unimportant details.)
“What’s. his. name?” 
A bitter sound escapes you (Rule #3: attach honest emotion to it, if you can). “I don’t know his name. I never did. I was just racking up a roster, just wanted to get laid after getting away from you.”
He bares his teeth at you in a snarl, furious, and shoves you harder against the mattress. You cry out and try to hit him, but he catches your wrists and holds them down to the bed easily, shoving you again, one of his powerful thighs pressed up between yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, getting in your face, lying on top of you. “Noone else’s. Not ever.”
You whimper and nod, shaken and keenly aware of his body on top of yours, his strength. James is a massive hulk of an alpha, capable of overpowering you in any situation, and even through your frantic thoughts, you know you’ll never be able to get away from him in close contact like this. He’s so angry, his scent gone thick and choking. You’re too panicked to plan out what it is you’re going to say next, you just wind up instinctively trying to placate him, blurting out, “What do you want?”
He leers down at you. “I want what’s mine. What’s always been mine.” On your wrists, his fingers tighten cruelly. “You’ve had your fun now, and gotten away with it for too damn long. You’re coming home with me, Little thief.”
You gasp as the pressure on your wrists increases painfully, mind flying to that cold, Siberian fortress and the life that awaits you there. You might be able to get away from him before then, but you might not, and you can’t risk June being trapped there as well. “Okay, okay! I’ll go with you, I will. Wherever you want. Just … Please let me give her to the neighbor. Please.”
He smiles nastily down at you. “Oh, you don’t want her to come along? Another man’s pup?”
Tears press at the backs of your eyes at the thought of leaving your daughter behind, but you shake your head. “Please. Just take her over to the woman across the street. She’ll look after her. Please James, she's my daughter. I won’t fight you if you leave her there. She’s nothing to you. Just let her stay where it’s safe.” 
Something in his expression shifts, but you don’t have time to figure out what the emotion might be, before he shutters again. He leans down and purrs, “Oh, I don’t know, vorishka [little thief]. You stole some very valuable things from me. And since I don’t see any fucking Picassos hanging in this hovel you call a house, I assume they’re in the wind.”
It wasn’t as though you’d simply been able to run away. Escaping had required finances, techniques, firms of dangerous men hired to plant false leads, erase tracks, ferret you away into oblivion, and then move halfway across the globe and buy yourself a new identity. The bribes alone had eaten up most of the money. You shudder in his grip, knowing that the paintings wouldn’t save you, even if you did have them. “They’re gone.” 
“I know they’re gone, Little thief.” He shoves his thigh down against you. “So how are you gonna make it up to me?”
You whimper. “I can’t,” you plead. “James. I don’t have anything.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I can think of a few ways you can start repaying your debt.” He runs one hand down your side, groping your waist as he breathes softly against your ear: “For instance, do you have any idea what she’d be worth on the black market?”
It takes you a split second to figure out what he means, and your heart seizes in terror as soon as you do. You know James is involved in every type of shady, illegal dealing there is in the world, but you’d never even considered the idea of human trafficking. Now that he’s said it, you panic that you’ve made a huge mistake by lying that the baby isn’t his. “James,” you whisper, horrified. “Alpha, please.”
“Oh, it’s Alpha, now, is it?” He chuckles meanly, the sound making your stomach churn. You’re about to say something else, beg in some other, pitiful way, tell him he’s June’s father, but instead you cry out as his hand fists in your hair and yanks your head to the side. His breath hits hot against your skin and he drags his nose up the side of your neck, scenting you. “Mmm,” he hums darkly, pleased. “You spread your legs for another man, but you didn’t let anyone in here.”
You squeak when his teeth scrape over your still-unmarked glands. “No!” you gasp, just as much an answer as it is a plea for nim not to bite you. “I didn’t, I didn’—”
“Shut up,” he snaps, closing his teeth down on the spot. You whine as he pulls your hair and slowly increases the pressure of his bite, threatening to break the skin. Horrified, you feel your body responding with arousal, heat blooming deep in your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, and sure enough few seconds later James is inhaling deeply and chuckling. “Oh, kotenok [kitten]. Still the same as ever, huh?” He shifts, hand slipping down between your legs and cupping you from over the fabric of your dress. “Ripe for your Alpha’s touch, even after all this time. How sweet.” Humiliated rage bubbles up inside of you and you glare up at him. He’s looking down fondly at you, eyes heated and lip drawn into his mouth. He lets it slide back out between his teeth and murmurs, “It’s okay, you know. It’s everything to me, omegechka [little omega], the way you respond. It’s only natural.” You growl angrily, but he just hums and tugs your hair again, other hand molding to your mound and rubbing. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, when you cry out louder. “Don’t want to scare the whelp, do you?” 
You freeze, listening to try and hear June. She’s whining from over in her room,  not understanding why she’s been left alone when she can hear her mommy’s voice just down the hall. “Please,” you whisper, locking eyes with James again. “Please. Let me go to her.”
He grinds the heel of his hand against you. “I told you, Dollface. You don’t want her here for this.”
He kisses you on the mouth, chaste and lingering; so gentle that for a split second it makes you ache for what you once had with him. James always was very good at making love to you, at lavishing you with a softness and a tenderness even in the darkest of times. But now you can only shiver underneath his weight, because you know that’s not what’s about to happen. 
“Seventeen months, moya omegya,”  he rumbles quietly, lips brushing yours with the words. “My bed suddenly cold, not knowing if you were alive or dead. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
His tone of voice is so intimately familiar that it makes your heart clench, bringing back memories of a life you’ve fought so hard to put behind you. “Please,” you whisper. “Don’t do this.”
He tuts and shakes his head softly, as if he’s actually remorseful. “How this goes depends entirely on you. I want you to know that.” He hasn’t stopped working his hand against you, rubbing his palm against your clit and smiling at how you shudder beneath him and your body betrays you. You watch his nostrils flare as he smells the reaction he’s pulling from you against your will. “Sweet girl,” he coos. “You just can’t help it, can you?” You toss your head and screw your eyes shut, but he’s having none of it. He yanks your hair and hisses at you to open your eyes. “No,” he warns, once he’s got your attention. He moves back, getting up onto his knees and shrugging off his jacket. “You’re going to watch. The whole time.” His hands land on his belt, the buckle clinking as he opens it and undoes his pants. “I want to look right in your eyes while I take back what’s mine.” He shoves his pants down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, already hard and wet at the tip. A part of him that’s been inside you hundreds of times, probably. Something you’ve craved and debased yourself for. 
Seeing it reignites your shame, but it’s the way you feel your cunt pulse and release a fresh wave of slick, that really makes you start resisting again. “Nnh!”
“Ah ah ah, Dollface. That’s not gonna work.”
“Nugh! Lemmo go!”  
You fight, of course you do, but it’s almost worse that way, as it only points out how comically mismatched you are to him. He laughs at you and holds down your thrashing body, barely even grunting from the effort of subduing you. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, chuckling breathily as he forces you down with one hand and strokes himself with the other. “I have to tell you, kotenok. I’ve been looking forward to this.” 
“I hate you!” You manage to get a hand free and you flail, hitting and clawing at him. He inhales sharply as your nails scratch his face. He knocks your hand away with a surprised hiss and, wide eyed, touches the spot where a tiny line of red is welling up on his cheek. The next thing you know, he’s backhanding you, sending spots into your vision and knocking you out of your senses for a few seconds. Your ears ring and you blink, stunned.
His hand appears at your throat, squeezing, pressing up against the arteries. You briefly grapple with him, grabbing his forearm and fighting, but then his thumb notches into place and digs into your glands. Your cries taper off and you go limp with a pathetic, mewling whimper. “Nnnh …”
He leers down at you, adjusting his grip, still jerking his cock as he subdues you with the Hold. “Weak,” he says. “But that’s just how I like you.”
His thumb rubs in circles, sending a rush of liquid gold through your veins. It worsens the situation between your legs, and you can’t hide that any more than you can hide the humiliated tears that prick to your eyes as he shoves your dress up and rips your underwear straight off of you. He coos when he looks down and sees how wet you are. “Oh, omegechka.” He knees your legs further apart and drags his cockhead through your folds. “And this is you hating me?”
You shake with a silent sob, despising him with your whole being, hating yourself for reacting this way. Before James, you’d never met a man who coveted your omega nature so much, hadn’t known what it was to need an alpha that way, to have your body need him. And to think: you used to like it.
He lines himself up and sinks inside of you in one, unyielding push, forcing you to open to him, carving out his space inside of you. You cry out at the force of it, body clamping down hard and the delicate skin at your entrance stinging from the stretch, but he doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated. “Fuck,” he groans, grinding in deep, his pubic bone pressing against your clit, laughing darkly when it makes you squeal. “Oh, you sensitive?” He does it again, and again, doesn’t stop until he gets a high pitched, warbling moan from you. “Theere she is.” He digs his thumb in harder against your glands and stares right in your eyes as he watches the effect it has on you, soaking up the flush in your face and the furious tears welling at the corners of your eyes. “I know, Sweetheart, I know,” he murmurs. “You really can’t help it, can you?” You whimper and he nods along in mock sympathy. “Poor little thing. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to need it that bad.” 
“James,”
He pulls out halfway and shoves back in, hard, rumbling in pleasure when it elicits another yelp from you. His other hand grabs at your waist, fingers digging into the soft give of your body. He hums dirtily. “I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. You look good for having just pushed out that pup. You look healthy.” You whine in protest and he fucks in hard again, baring his teeth in a mean smile. “Yeah, momma, you heard me.” He pulls out, thrusts back in. 
“Ss-stop.”
He laughs. “Don’t be like that, krasotka [Pretty(n.)]. I like it. You always were too skinny for my taste.” He runs his hand from your waist up to the top of your dress, yanking it down along with the cup of your bra, and groaning when your swollen breast spills out. You squeal in rage as he curses quietly, eyes going molten and unfocused. “Fuck, Honey, look at you.”
You start thrashing again hard, trying to hit him, but you only get a glancing blow to the side of his head before he refixes his hand on your throat and clamps down in another Hold. He gives you a firm shake. “Settle down. I told you: I like it..”
“Nnn, fuck you!” You spit on him, but he only laughs and wipes it away, leering down at you and continuing gleefully,
“Shouldn’t be skinny like some damn underwear model. Mm mn, naw. Now you’re nice and soft, just like you should be. Somethin’ for Alpha to grab onto. Bitty waist and a fat ass.” He grabs your waist again and pulls you down into the next roll of his hips, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars burst in your vision.
“Ah!” 
“Mmhm. Right there baby? Yeah, thaat’s the spot. I remember.” He’s panting open-mouthed, breathless as he taunts you, “I remember everything. What you like. How you feel. The sounds you make. Fuck.”  He shoves into you hard and holds there, his licked-red lips curling up wickedly. “Your cunt’s fluttering around me, Sweetheart. Clamping down so fucking hard.” 
“Nnh!”
He laughs, but his smile slackens as his own pleasure continues to build. He angles back and looks down your body, stares at where his cock is disappearing inside of you with lewd, wet sounds. “Shit, momma. And this pussy snapped back real good, didn’t it?” 
You cry out angrily, but it’s what he wants: to see you aroused and humiliated and furious at him. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming against you hard on the end of each, brutal thrust; his open belt and the zip of his fly digging into your ass every time he grinds inside. “You haven't been fucking anybody,” he says smugly. “How long’s it really been, mamochka? Hm? How long since another man was in this cunt?”
You moan miserably, his cock driving hard against your walls, too rough but not painful enough to keep it from feeling good. James is big, has an alpha’s cock, and it’s never been a physical possibility for him to be inside of you and not rub against every spot that makes your body light up in pleasure. You shake your head and try to close your eyes, but he pushes his hand up harder underneath your jaw, shaking you. “Uh uh. Look at me.” 
You can’t fight off the command of his Voice, not when he’s already dominating you so completely. Your eyes open against your will, full of tears, and he rumbles in satisfaction. 
“Better.”
Every whimper and mewl you make drives him on, stoking the angry satisfaction that’s burning in his eyes—eyes that you can’t look away from as you cry out again and again, little “Ah, ah, ah's” that interrupt the cadence of your skin slapping together, all of his eager growls and satisfied grunts.
“That’s it, shlyukha,” he pants, hips snapping in hard, again and again. “You—ugh—you let Alpha know how good that feels. Don’t hold it back from me.” His breathing is getting heavier the closer he gets, his composure and even his anger losing some of their hold as he fucks you harder, sinks down on you farther, covers you with his body fully as he ruts into you in pursuit of his climax. “Shit,”  he hisses not far from your ear, face stuffed in your neck. 
You keen high in your throat at his proximity to your bonding glands—a plaintive sound that directly contradicts the panicked ‘no!’ that flashes in your brain. His hand leaves the front of your neck and scoops around behind instead, gripping you at the nape in a Scruff that feels just as toe-curlingly right as the Hold had. 
For a very split second, his breath hitches and his growling trips into a needy whimper. “O-oh …” And that’s when you feel it: his knot starting to catch on the end of each thrust.
“Ah!” You cry out sharply and grab onto him, helpless to keep your body from seeking out more, from clinging to him and clamping down hard as his knot grows and triggers you into orgasm. “Hhgnn …”
He goes feral when he feels your body locking down on him, growling and shoving in and grinding to ensure that he catches inside and ties you together. His hand abandons your neck entirely as he gives in to the instinct to rut, both arms wrapping around your waist, scooping under your back and holding you still for him to fuck furiously against. The tug of his knot inside your cunt makes you sob and come harder, losing sense of yourself as the pleasure cuts through you like a knife. 
“Fuck, fuck, ohhfuck …” The sound of his deep voice, so lost in the desperation and helplessness of his own pleasure, makes your belly flare hot with new arousal even as you’re coming down the other side of it. You gasp and pant, and eventually whimper as the bliss dissipates and you become more aware of him on top of you, grunting and groaning and fucking into your tie as he rides out the long, debilitating climax of an alpha.
You keep your eyes closed and cry, hating that it still feels good as he fucks into you, grinds down on your clit and gives your another orgasm, and another. You wait for him to finish as your brain fills with the high that comes after, that unavoidable pink cloud that you know is going to seal your fate and make you helpless to him for the next thirty minutes, at least. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head in the direction of the pillows. 
As the high starts to take you, you think about how, if you’d just kept your gun holstered behind by the headboard like you’d planned, you could be blowing his brains out right about now.
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A.N.: Soooo ... This is the rape-iest thing I've ever ever written. I hope y'all are okay. Just wanted to drop a note to let you know that this fic WILL lighten up and not be quite so, well, rapey, in the future. Thanks for reading! 💖Sarah
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