Tumgik
#alpha beta omega
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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, 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 Mine
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
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@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01, @ppbhquinn, @myfavbuckyfics, @liannafae, @sadsackssss, @timidquindim
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soaps-mohawk · 2 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 5: What I Want
Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown
A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(Gif pulled from google)
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You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs. 
You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up. 
Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble. 
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think. 
“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.” 
“Good.” 
You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?” 
“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” 
You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them. 
“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand. 
“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.” 
“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.” 
“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it. 
“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles. 
“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake. 
“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door. 
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Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. 
“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up. 
“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone. 
“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.” 
“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?” 
“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.” 
“Oh? How so?” 
“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins. 
Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” 
“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.” 
“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.” 
“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.” 
“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.” 
“We’re doing our best.” 
“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.” 
“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.” 
“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.” 
Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.” 
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You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too. 
You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost. 
“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway. 
You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough. 
He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through. 
Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt. 
You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them. 
Tattoos. 
He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings. 
You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him. 
“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand. 
You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles. 
“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.” 
You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you. 
“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you. 
You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit. 
“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...” 
“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him. 
You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run. 
You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.” 
“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks. 
He has a point. 
“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.” 
You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit. 
“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.” 
You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well. 
Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes. 
“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice. 
A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit. 
“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you. 
“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.” 
“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone. 
He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in. 
Don’t back down. 
Don’t back down. 
You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega. 
“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.” 
His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength. 
“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance. 
“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless. 
“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice. 
He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit. 
The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face. 
“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.” 
You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back. 
He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.
“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?” 
“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room. 
“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.” 
Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight. 
“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. 
“It’s his fault.” You murmur. 
“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows. 
Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.
It’s not yours. 
“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position. 
Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.” 
Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode. 
“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.” 
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“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office. 
“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince. 
Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.” 
“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly. 
“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.” 
“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.” 
“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?” 
Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust. 
“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.” 
You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.” 
“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.” 
You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering. 
“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?” 
You nod. “Ozone.” 
She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.” 
Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess? 
You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack. 
“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?” 
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.” 
“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look. 
You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.” 
“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down. 
You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.” 
“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks. 
You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.” 
“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?” 
You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud. 
“Why not?” She asks. 
“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur. 
“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks. 
You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.” 
Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse. 
“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you. 
That word again. 
You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week. 
You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply. 
“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you. 
“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.” 
“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?” 
“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.” 
“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” 
Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain. 
“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?” 
“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.” 
Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.” 
She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin. 
“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide. 
“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.” 
“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...” 
Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”  
The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain. 
“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?” 
You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.” 
She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this. 
That’s not a conversation you want to have right now. 
You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her. 
It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to. 
You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in. 
“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly. 
“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys. 
She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms. 
Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?” 
You nod. “Thank you.” 
She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.” 
You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet. 
You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any. 
Ask for one thing that you want. 
It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to. 
You could ask for something that’s not material. 
Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today. 
You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed. 
You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants. 
You can want this. 
You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this. 
You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling. 
You want this. 
“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-” 
His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed. 
“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-” 
Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 
“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.” 
“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-” 
Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours. 
His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist. 
“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.” 
Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.” 
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You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. 
This isn’t a want. 
You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow. 
“Come in.” 
Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there? 
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen. 
You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.” 
You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air. 
“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough. 
You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.” 
“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.” 
You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap. 
Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him. 
“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him. 
“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand. 
His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders. 
All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you. 
You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe. 
You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest. 
“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck. 
You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent. 
“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body. 
You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it. 
“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly. 
His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before. 
You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again. 
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The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south. 
He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him. 
He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall. 
Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days. 
“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?” 
He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest. 
“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.” 
Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked. 
Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed. 
His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock. 
Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you. 
He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips. 
He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days. 
“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing. 
“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall. 
Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him. 
You’re going to be the death of him. 
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Taglist, part 1:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
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vivalabunbun · 1 year
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. 
6K notes · View notes
rv3rblog · 7 months
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alpha!gaz who’s your childhood best friend, the two of you dancing between the line of courting and just friends
alpha!gaz who scents you before the two of you go out for a night, under the impression that he’s doing it to keep you safe and to make sure you don’t get any unwanted attention
alpha!gaz who holds you close before he leaves for deployment, scents you deeply to make sure you still smell like him before he leaves
alpha!gaz who purrs appreciatively when he gets a care package from you while deployed and sees you put in a pillowcase for that smells like you
alpha!gaz who sends you letters every week and vice versa
alpha!gaz who talks about his sweet omega waiting for him at home to tf141
alpha!gaz who calls you one night, drunk off his ass, whining about missing you like a pup
“mm, ‘m jus’ miss you darlin’ my pretty omega, miss you so much. wanna scent you, wanna smell like you too. mm you’re my omega, my pretty one hm?”
alpha!gaz who pretends he didn’t basically confess to you and is grateful you don’t bring it up (even if you’re dying to bring it up, want to know if he meant it)
alpha!gaz who comes back home to you and you’re slightly distant and he won’t have that. he corners you, asking you what happened and what’s wrong.
“did someone hurt you love? someone do something to you?” he asks as he holds your face in his hands.
you try to pull away, try to keep some distance between you two because gaz always read you so easily, always knew when something was wrong.
“love?”
alpha!gaz who watches as tears gather in your eyes as you try pushing him away, overwhelmed by your own feelings. you snap at him and tell him you don’t appreciate being led on, that it isn’t funny anymore, that it was never funny.
alpha!gaz who scrambles for a way to tell you that he’s into you, so deeply in love with you.
alpha!gaz who watches you calm down and look at him.
alpha!gaz who takes you fully into his arms, scenting you calling you his omega.
“always called you mine,” he mumbles against your neck. “my pretty omega, all mine.”
you stay there in his arms as he continues to scent you, your eyes fluttering close at the contact.
“lemme court you properly yeah?” he whisperers. “wanna show you i can be a good alpha, good for you.”
alpha!gaz who brings you flowers everyday and handmade gifts once a week
alpha!gaz who gives you his clothes more freely now that he’s courting you, wanting you to always smell like him
alpha!gaz who scents you every time now, wanting everyone to know you have an alpha
alpha!gaz who likes smelling like you too, lets you scent him and smiles appreciatively when he goes on with his day smelling like his sweet omega
just alpha!gaz :p
1K notes · View notes
teamatsumu · 1 month
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kept me waiting. (suna rintarou x reader)
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summary: for six years, you have loved no other alpha except suna.
word count: 3397
warnings: a/b/o dynamics, alpha!suna, omega!fem!reader, some angst, smut, typical omegaverse jargon (mating, knotting, scent, slick), oral (fem receiving)
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose
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There’s only so long you could have waited.
At 16 years old, you were a budding omega. You had presented recently and were trying to adjust to the changes that came with your secondary gender. You were curious about yourself, and about others as well. In your uncertain new beginning, you met Suna Rintaro.
He had presented as an Alpha about a year ago, and he was more comfortable in his skin than you were. He was brooding and slightly lazy, but endlessly perceptive. Clever. And he smelled to you like a garden you wanted to lay in, surrounded by grass and flowers. He brought you comfort. And your novice omega heart fell in love with him.
The kettle whistled, indicating that your water was ready for a cozy cup of tea. You pour it into a cup, grab your muffin and your tea before settling on the couch. It was evening time and the TV was on, loud cheering emitting from its speakers. You placed your blanket over your lap and then rested your plate on it, finally turning your attention to the screen and the live game that was about to start. You had never once missed a game of Suna’s, after all.
Almost 7 years since you had first met the boy, and to this day, you heart yearned for him. He was your best friend, your most personal confidant. The love of your life, though that fact was not known by him. Your Omega had attached herself to him explicitly, vowed to love him forever, and despite him not returning your feelings, you hung on to the tiniest, withering hope that somehow, things between you two would work out.
The game was an exhilarating one, and in the end, EJP Raijins came out of it victorious. You watched the team celebrate on screen, grinning wide and cheering them on silently. When the camera panned to Suna, your heart squeezed. You shot him a quick congratulations text, asking him how he wanted to celebrate. Suna had informed you beforehand that he would be crashing at yours after the game, since you lived so close to the venue. You had enthusiastically agreed, of course. Any excuse to spend more time with him.
Half an hour later, your phone pinged with a reply from him.
‘Will be back late, sorry.. dont wait up’
You pursed your lips in disappointment before sighing loudly and resigning to an early night. It was fine, you were tired from work anyway, so getting extra sleep will be good. But spending some time with Suna….
He had been so busy lately, with rigorous practices leading up to the beginning of this season. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, and you didn’t enjoy that fact, nor did your omega. You missed him terribly. You swallowed down your sadness and trudged into bed. It was a familiar feeling when it came to Suna. The yearning and the realization that he wasn’t yours.
When you woke up the next morning, the sun was high in the sky and filtering through your closed curtains. You groaned and cursed softly, not expecting to sleep in so late. Your mood only lightened when you walked into the kitchen and found Suna sitting on the island, scrolling through his phone over a steaming cup of tea. His hair was messy and unkempt, indicating that he just woke up, but the sight of him had your face lifting with a smile.
“Rin!” You greeted, clearing your throat when you heard how hoarse your voice was. “Congratulations on the game!”
“Hey,” His smile made your heart squeeze. “Sorry, did I wake you last night?”
You blinked in confusion. “No?”
“Oh.” He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “Good, good.”
You eyed him for a moment, trying to gauge what he meant. You walked toward the kettle that was still going, planning on pouring some of it for yourself too. As you moved past the man, a scent hit your nose and your body stiffened.
Omega.
There was no doubt in your head. It was an omega scent, wafting off Suna in waves and mixing intimately with his own wonderful scent. You froze behind him, nose twitching when you took another deep breath and identified the scent even more distinctly. You didn’t recognize it, but you knew it was omega. And the way it was coming off Suna, focused so closely on his scent glands meant only one thing.
“Why’d you get here so late, Rin?” There was a little tremble in your voice.
Suna didn’t seem to notice, scrolling idly through his phone, distracted. He hummed a bit in question before replying.
“Drinking with the guys.” He drawled.
And then? You didn’t ask. It wasn’t your place. You loved foolishly believing that Suna was your Alpha but he wasn’t. And you couldn’t exactly tell him to not see any omega when you didn’t have any claim on him either. Silently, you left the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t call after you, walking into your room and closing the door. You leaned your forehead against the warm wood and closed your eyes.
Stupid. Stupid. What right did you have to feel the way you did? Suna wasn’t yours. He could be with anyone he pleased. He could sleep with other omegas. Scent them. Court them. Knot them. Your throat tightened.
So then why did you feel like a wounded animal? Why was your omega whining like she had lost her mate and not some random alpha she had unfairly been obsessed with for so long? In moments like this, you hated your secondary gender. You hated your omega. You hated that you were so in love with Suna that this felt like cheating to you.
However, your hurt was exclusively your own, and you couldn’t project it onto anyone else. Suna was here now, and even though the sight of him made you weep, you still found joy in being around him. You would spend the day with him, and get the closure you needed. Then you would lick your wounds and move on. You had waited long enough.
So that’s what you did. And here you were now, a week later, sitting across from an Alpha you had met just today, listening to him talk about his job and his hobbies while you smiled and nodded. There was an almost bitter undertone to your feelings. Over the days, your sadness had transformed into anger. It was unjustified and not really something Suna deserved, but you still directed it at him. Because he had ruined you for anyone else.
The Alpha before you was a perfect gentleman. He was a friend of your friend’s, and everything she had told you about him was true. He was kind, well spoken, good looking. He knew how to carry a conversation, since he was doing most of the talking while you rolled around in your own head.
But he wasn’t witty. He wasn’t quick and sly. He didn’t have a thin, cutting smirk and narrow green eyes that pierced through you. He didn’t smell like freshly cut grass and cool, open air.
He wasn’t Suna.
After the date, he walked you to the train station, where you claimed you would get on the train home. He gave you a respectful hug and smiled kindly when you said you would call (you wouldn’t call). Then, when he mixed in with the crowd and disappeared, you turned around and walked straight out, beginning to trudge on foot to your home.
Your thoughts were all over the place, your eyes were lined with unshed tears, your breath felt like it was trapped in your lungs. You didn’t comprehend the stupidity behind walking all the way home, and how it would take hours. Your friend texted you, asking about the date. You didn’t reply. Instead, you tapped on that one cursed name that you couldn’t wipe from your mind and sent only two words.
Fuck you.
It took you two and a half hours to walk home. It could have been quicker if you weren’t in heels. After about half an hour of walking in them, your feet began to hurt. You used the pain to distract yourself from the jumble of thoughts in your head, and by the time you got home, you didn’t even want to look down at them. You couldn’t imagine how bad they looked, if the tingling and shooting pains were any indication. It now traveled up your legs and to your lower back, aching all over. At some point, the air nipped cold at your cheeks, and you finally noticed that it was because of the tears that now ran down them.
When you unlocked the door and stepped inside the warmth of your apartment was the first time you seemed to be aware of your surroundings. You froze just inside the door when a large figure blocked the light, making you look up at a scowling Suna.
“Where the hell were you? I was calling like crazy!” His voice was louder than his usual register, and more emotional. You blinked a bit and sniffled. Your skin felt stiff because of the dried tears. Your feet still screamed.
“Why are you here?” Your voice was low.
“I’m-” Suna’s eyes traveled down, and they widened slightly at the sight of your feet.
“What did you- did you walk?”
You sighed and lumbered past him, ignoring the pleading protests of your feet to get the weight off them. You finally sat down on the couch, feeling no better. The pain was still there. You kept your focus acutely on it, trying not to look at the one man who was causing your misery. But he seemed adamant on making himself known, kneeling before you to help take off your shoes. You jerked your legs away. Suna looked up at you, shocked.
“Don’t touch me.” Your voice was cutting.
Something flashed in his eyes. “Let me help.”
“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you.”
Suna reached for your shoe strap again. “Don’t be stubborn, omega.”
You felt your blood boil and you finally raised your voice. “Don’t call me that!”
He eyed you for a moment. “What? Omega? Aren’t you one?”
“Suna-”
He glared at you. Glared. A withering look that almost made you shrink. But your emotions were too great. You grit your teeth and didn’t say anything. Didn’t address the fact that you had called him by his last name for the first time in six years.
Suna peeled your shoes off your feet as gently as he could. But it hurt regardless, and you hissed when they finally came off. He ran soothing hands over the tender, angry skin. You tried not to think about his touch, tried not to sink into the feeling. But your efforts only made tears gather in your lash line once more. You eyed his raven hair, his head bent low to look at your feet. He sat cross legged before you, laying light touches on the swollen parts of your feet.
“Why are you here?” You repeated.
“Well, when my best friend texted me a colorful ‘fuck you’ out of nowhere, then proceeded to ignore all my calls, I was understandably worried.”
You sighed and looked away just before he could meet your eyes. He continued. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”
You didn’t reply, pointedly looking away. You cursed at the moment of weakness that caused your lapse of judgment and made you text him. Him showing up was your own mistake.
He exhaled loudly, looking down at your feet that he was still gently massaging. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.”
Your head snapped to him in shock, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Suna didn’t look up, but his lips twitched into a little smile.
“That’s why you’ve been acting so weird, right? For the last few days? You were pissed and sad that your Alpha slept with another omega.”
Your mind reeled, and you sat frozen as you tried but failed to absorb Suna’s words. Your alpha?
When he looked up, his lips were tilted in a crooked smile. “I wouldn’t do that to you, baby.”
Again, you lurched. You tried to pull your feet from his grasp, to stand up and get away from him, put any distance between you two. Maybe his scent was making you heady. Maybe you were hallucinating. He gripped at your leg, making sure you stayed put.
“You’re- I don’t know what you’re saying.” You rasped.
Suna chuckled before sighing a bit defeatedly. “I wanted to confess in a more romantic way than this but you started being all distant and shit. I can’t see you like this.”
You couldn’t believe it. You had so many questions and not enough answers for the predicament you were in. And Suna’s pretty forest eyes didn’t help keep your head straight either.
“You- what do you mean confess?”
Suna’s hand ran up your bare calf lightly, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.
“What do you think it means?” He countered in classic Suna fashion. Answering your question with a question. “Telling you that I like you. Taking you out. Courting you. Mating you. The whole she-bang.”
For the hundredth time today, tears filled your eyes. “Rin….”
He watched you, eyes forlorn as you silently weeped. His hand still rubbed comfortingly over your legs. Up and down, slow motions. His touch grounded you.
“You made me wait-” You hiccuped. “-for so long.”
Suna continued eyeing you. He leaned forward to rest his head on your knee. “I thought you knew how much I liked you. I spend all my time with you. I scent your clothes, dammit. I thought you weren’t saying anything on purpose. That you wanted to come to me on your own terms.”
You smacked his shoulder hard. He didn’t even budge. “You are such an asshole.”
Suna chuckled a bit before turning his head and laying a kiss on the side of your knee. The skin tingled. He pulled away only a hair, and his breath hit your skin. A chill ran up your leg. Suna turned his head only slightly, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart skipped. Heat ran down your body, settling at the base of your stomach.
His lips skimmed over the bare skin of your knee. His left hand, placed on your right shin, traveled slowly up your leg until it dipped below the hem of your dress. Your breath caught in your throat. Your core grew damp. Suna’s gaze heated up, and his lip twitched with a tiny smirk.
“I can smell you.”
You bit your lip when his hand traveled up, up, until his skin was meeting delicate lace.
“So wet, omega.” He nipped at your leg. “And I haven’t even done anything. So good for your Alpha. So ready.”
His unoccupied hand hooked under your knee and tugged until your hips reached the edge of your couch, until you were laying back on it. Your eyes didn’t leave him. His words ran straight between your legs, making you clench hard. You bit your lip and looked at Suna with teary eyes.
“Rin.”
You had nothing else to say. Suna let out a breathy laugh and increased the pressure of his thumb on your slit. You gasped.
“Will you be good f’me?” His voice was octaves deeper. “Let me eat out your sweet little pussy?”
His crude language made you moan. Suna finally moved, lips going higher over your thigh until he bypassed your body completely and leaned up to connect his lips with yours. You grasped the sides of his face, kissing him back hard and deep. You poured every emotion into that one kiss, letting Suna lap over your lips hungrily. His scent enveloped you like a comforter, one hand pushing up the skirt of your dress while the other’s movements grew more urgent on your clothed pussy. You were slicking up rapidly. You could feel it run from your hole and down your ass until it landed on the couch. You couldn’t give less of a shit if you were dirtying the furniture. Your brain was rapidly turning into mush as your omega preened under Suna’s attention, his tongue invading your mouth like it was his own and he was only reclaiming it.
“Pretty baby.” He rasped into your mouth. “Good little omega. Get wetter for me. Need to drink all your juice.”
Your face felt like it was on fire, and you whined right against his lips. When he pulled away, you tried to chase after him, already addicted to the high that his lips brought. Suna hummed in amusement and tugged on your panties, pulling them off your ankles. He pressed the fabric directly to his nose and breathed deep. You watched him with half lidded eyes as you bit your lip to hell.
“You smell so fucking divine.” Suna groaned. “Always thought so. Loved cuddling up to you. Being close to you. My lovely omega.”
You moaned again, feeling how you gushed at his words. You didn’t realize you were into praise, but when it came from Suna, it lit a fire inside you. You clenched hard around nothing, now acutely aware of your rapidly building need.
“Rin,” you gasped. “Please. Please.”
“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” He shamelessly pried your legs open. You let him. “I’ll take such good care of my omega.”
His first lick was a thick stripe up your open slit, filthy and hungry, before he licked harder and faster over your clit. You gasped at the contact, the urgent relief of finally having stimulation you were craving so much. Your fingers automatically buried themselves in his soft hair, tugging tight at the roots. Suna hummed his approval and suctioned his lips on your clit, lapping and slurping like he was a man starved.
He was glorious at it, eating pussy like it was his last meal, hands holding your thighs apart firmly so his movements were unhindered. Stars burst in your vision and your hips jerked, not sure if you wanted to lean into him or tug away from how intense it was. Your torso undulated and arched, tears ran down the sides of your face and you moaned unencumbered. Suna seemed to enjoy it, because he pulled off with a wet smooch and replaced his lips with his thumb, not leaving you dry for one second.
“So fucking delicious.” His voice had gone scratchy and wrecked. “Good fucking girl. Moan for me, baby. God, I could do this forever.”
You felt something prod at your entrance before two fingers rapidly sank into you to the knuckle, curling hard and rubbing at your walls. You cried out again, not even embarrassed by how wet the noises became, how potent your scent was becoming, you badly you needed to cum on his fingers or you didn’t know what you would do-
His lips sealed over your clit and you were gone.
Suna didn’t even slow his movements as you reached your high. He helped prolong it, sucking harder and pushing his fingers in and out of you, scissoring and curling until your walls felt abused and used beyond belief. You wailed and weeped as you dug your fingers into the couch cushion under you. You had slid so far down the couch that it nearly bent you in half. You tried to close your legs and Suna finally pulled out, kissing over your mound a few times before he leaned up and attached his lips to the skin of your neck, licking and biting lightly over your scent gland, trying to embed his own scent into you. The feeling of him so close to that spot had your mind reeling. You hugged him close.
“Bite me.”
Suna kissed you again. “Not like this.”
“But I love you.”
He chuckled and sucked lightly on your skin until it darkened. “Still won’t mate you on a couch. When I do it, it’s going to be with your cunt full of my knot.”
You flushed and groaned in embarrassment, feeling the way your core pulsed again. Suna laughed and nuzzled your neck.
“Don’t worry. I have a lot of loving to give you before we get there.”
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short-honey-badger · 2 months
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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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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.” 
311 notes · View notes
soupinaboot · 9 months
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There's no way that this man doesn't know about the omegaverse
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909 notes · View notes
bunnyreaper · 5 months
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kinktober 16 - scent
john price x reader
(18+/mdni, abo dynamics)
John's chest is your home. The one place you feel most safe in the world. You cuddle up into him, savouring the thick layer of fat that blankets his muscles and gives you the best space to cuddle. Strong arms wrap around you, keeping you warm and secure—and his scent, his perfect scent surrounds you completely. 
You've never smelt anyone like your Alpha—you knew he was the one for you when you latched onto his scent, smelling it more richly than anything you've sensed in life before. Smokey, woody, rich and deep. 
And now he wants to deprive you of it, as he tries to peel himself away from you to leave the bed. 
"Alpha..." You whine needily,  snuggling into his neck and savouring his scent while you still can—hoping you can somehow convince him to stay. "Don't go." 
"I have to, love. Got a meeting soon." His voice rumbles through you, warm and soothing, even if you hate the words he speaks. 
You tighten your arms and legs around him, clinging tight. If he really wanted to get up, he could, even with you clinging, but he doesn't just yet. "Please, just a little longer." 
He huffs, fond amusement as his hand strokes through your hair. "Okay, stay snuggled up, my sweet girl." 
You dive into his neck once more, tracing your nose across his scent gland, rubbing yourself into his thick beard and swapping your scents. "Fuck, you smell so good." Once more, your voice drops to a whimper—your natural submissive reaction completely unrestrained as you begin to grind into his thigh just ever so slightly. 
"Yeah?" His laugh is soft and sweet, but his voice drops a little lower as your arousal fuels his. "Can't get enough of your alpha's smell?" 
"Why do you have to go? Why do you have to leave this bed?" You grow more dramatic with your whining as you continue, gripping onto him deathly tight and never wanting to let him go.
"Should be staying here with my pretty little omega." He purrs, rubbing his face across the crown of your head and treasuring your own scent. He was addicted to yours as you were his.
You nod enthusiastically, a serene smile spreading across your face. "Yes, yes you should." Right now, or really ever, you can think of nothing better than confining you and John to bed forever more. 
"I'll leave this shirt behind for you, darling." John whispers, knowing you'll spend most of the morning snuggled into it and inhaling his scent.
You raise your hand, sticking out your pinky finger in a sweet, innocent gesture. "Promise?" 
John links his finger with yours, bringing your intertwined hand up to kiss and seal his vow. "Promise, my sweet omega." 
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badinfluencepress · 1 year
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You’ve heard* of the fraternities Pi Kappa Alpha... Sigma Alpha Epsilon... Beta Theta Phi...... but what about...
🪢 ALPHA BETA OMEGA 🪢 ?
Is this a joke? Yes! Can you actually buy these things? Also yes! A bunch of college students get to wear mysterious Greek letter combinations on their chests to signal to others In The Know what their deal is... why should they have all the fun? It’s our turn, and our thing is better. Objectively. Probably. Or worse? But more fun FOR SURE. Ideal clothing for making weird eye contact with the other online-looking person at the grocery store or gym, confusing your boss over a video call, or meeting your fandom Discord squad for outdoor brunch!
→ GET YOUR ABΩ FRATERNITY MERCH HERE
*I googled “most popular fraternities” for these names.
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phoenixyfriend · 6 months
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Was meant to say "until I'm older" but I ran out of characters
This is about your KNOWLEDGE, not your INTEREST
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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.
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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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Tag List (I'm doing my best, people 😅): @cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01, @ppbhquinn, @myfavbuckyfics, @liannafae, @sadsackssss, @timidquindim
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casbellion · 1 year
Text
Omega Mine
Part II
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: alpha!bucky sees you wearing his dog tags for the first time.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: tension, teasing
𝐚/𝐧: i wrote this so very long ago, but i want to start writing/posting on here so i figured this was a good place to start!!! also, my first fic ever?? no way. hope you enjoy pals <3
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Maybe Sam is right, perhaps you should end it after all. The toll it’s taking on the team isn’t ideal, necessarily. Steve waking up with half the facial hair he went to bed with, Natasha’s prized knife buffer suddenly replaced with her least favored cheese (you ended up scrubbing barf for weeks while they were on missions in Romania), Wilson receiving concerned calls for months after his family opened a package addressed to him containing synthetic alpha hormones and a semen-filled knotting dildo. He’s an alpha.
But you can’t. Vision challenged you. Inadvertently, yes, but the point still stands. No one challenges an Omega after their heat, especially when said Omega grew up pranking people to deal with trauma. Surely Vision didn’t know what was coming his way, and now that Wanda and Natasha have joined the fun, all of the Alphas in the tower are ready to rip your heads off. Oops.
After Vision offended your honorary title of most creative pranks (by asking what you could possibly be better at than cooking your classic post-heat meal for the team. Sexist much?) the team hasn’t gotten a moment of clarity to think of how to get you and the girls back, not that you were complaining. You’d say you’re pretty damn successful, especially at hiding after an accomplished mission, like now. You’re crouched behind Tony’s mini bar, a classic shit-eating grin on your face as Steve ran past you, again. Seems like another successful miss-
“Y/N!” Steve roars, boots stomping rhythmically down the foyer towards you, the perfect soundtrack of your inevitable doom.
“Oh, shit.” One minute you’re up and running the fuck away from a pissed off Alpha, the next you’re running into a rather amused Alpha. “Oof.”
“Do you plan to give Steve reconciliation after this, Doll,” a rough voice softly speaks into your ear, the arms matching it wrapping securely around your waist. “Or am I supposed to listen to him whine nonstop about it for the next four hours, again?”
Fuck, you’d been trying to avoid Bucky for this exact reason. He’s been doing really well after Shuri, almost too well in your opinion. Wakanda gave him the amenities and time to come to terms with his Alpha, meaning he’s gotten very comfortable with his instincts. Which includes touching, cuddling, hugging, and unknowingly (is it though?) releasing content/relaxed pheromones which drives you up the fucking wall. Your poor vibrator can’t get a damn break these days.
Why is that a problem? Well considering the day he waltzed into the tower, with a scent worth all the precious metals in the world, didn’t only trigger your heat a month early, but caused your biological timer telling you when to start a family and mate to fall out of your ass.
Your Omega lives on edge, violently clawing at its confines anytime it catches a whiff of Bucky’s Alpha, which, when you live together, is quite literally all-the-fucking-time. Especially since he keeps sneaking showers in your room, making you smell his ‘clean Alpha’ scent every time you enter your own bathroom.
And with your heat on the way, you’d been trying to gently push him away so you don’t bust your ass trying to present in every room he walks into. So yeah, this isn’t an ideal predicament.
“Come on, Buck. You gotta admit it’s pretty funny.” You say, breathing out a laugh so your nose does anything else besides breathe in his scent or god forbid you ruin your brand new underwear. “Red, white and blue hair looks great on our Cap.”
You break away from his arms, turning to see a very patriotic Captain America in his tighty whities running full speed at you.
“It is quite the look, y/n. Although you might actually die in, like five seconds. Feel like running?” Bucky turns towards you, but you’re already high-tailing it to your bedroom, cackling your ass off the whole way there.
———————————————————————————
“You WHAT?” Wanda shrieks, standing up from your carpet to stare at you.
“I took his dog tag.” You say begrudgingly. “He left it on the weights and he was pooping, so I took it.”
“Y/n, he’s going to lose his shit! Those aren’t his socks, or a new hair color, those are his prized possessions! The only things he truly cares about! What the fuck, y/n.” Natasha chimes in, rubbing her temples.
“Which makes this even better, Nat. You’ll see.” You say, shooing them out.
Now where would there be enough people for him not to kill you?
——————————————————————————
“…no the fuck you didn't.”
“Shut it, Wilson.” You snap, sitting down on the stool in the kitchen to put on your fuzzy socks. You decided that Christmas movie night would be the best night to finally debut Bucky’s tags.
Poor Alpha, he’s been wondering the tower like a lost pup, whining over his dog tags and asking anyone he comes across if they’ve seen the beloved object. You’d finally taken pity on him and decided tonight’s the night. The whole team would be there so if he wanted to kill you it would at least take a few minutes, so you might have time to scamper away.
“Tony, absolutely, but never you, y/n.” Sam laughed. “Oh shit, I need popcorn for this.”
You tucked the tag into your shirt, hoping it would be a good while into the movie before Buck noticed.
As everyone filed in, you stuck yourself in between the arm of the couch and your favorite blanket, waiting for the spot next to you to be taken. The air shifted, alerting you of the super soldiers entrance.
“Can I join you under there, Doll?” Buck whispered against your ear, again. Well, there’s the first slick of the night.
You nodded, lifting the blanket for the Alpha to slide under. His shower-damp hair dripped onto the soft fuzz of the blanket, his fresh scent wrapping around you tighter than the fabric in your hands, making your head fuzzy and your Omega horny as fuck, but what’s new. Maybe you just need to get laid.
You sat there as the team bickered over movies for what seemed like an hour, but ten minutes later Will Farrell was waxing poetic about finding his father in the middle of NYC with Zoey Deschanel.
“Can you hand me my mug, please?” You stifle a gasp as Bucky softly grazes his lips over your ear, reaching past you to weakly attempt to grab his cup. The movement caused a burst of your scent to make its way to his nose, and he’s the one to stifle a gasp as he feels his eyes slightly roll. Was it hot in here?
“Of course, Buck.” You nodded, grabbing his Hot Cocoa from the table next to you and handing it to him, fingers brushing and zapping at the growing energy within your cores.
“You think I could pay Zoey Deschanel to sing in my shower?” Steve’s hand shot out to smack Sam upside the head before his sentence finished, prompting a round of laughter from the room.
You hold your breath, not wanting the bubble (which you and Bucky had unknowingly created) to burst. The warmth of his body against yours was addicting; your body was struggling against the Omega in your soul snarling at you for not giving her the only knot she’s ever deemed suitable.
How the hell are you supposed to watch anything, or be AROUND anyone, when the only thing living in your mind was you Omegas depictions of Bucky in varying…poses. You could practically feel the cold metal of the Alphas dog chains hitting your pebbled nipples as he pounded into your warmth, you whimpering and growling in ecstasy. Fuck.
You try to analyze any and all exits surrounding you - but come up with nothing.
“Yo, Frosty,” Tony’s voice snaps you out of your vision. “Have you ever had Elf pancakes?”
“What are ‘Elf Pancakes’?” Bucky rumbled, his chest caging you against the couch as he places his cup on the table.
You squeeze your eyes shut, praying to everything out there he doesn’t smell anything in your scent. You’re thanking the damn lord that you had to douse yourself in scent neutralizer earlier, even if it was because Nat was making the whole team do so while working with trainees.
As the Alphas launched into a conversation over Buddy’s classic meal, Bucky having no interest in whatsoever, the Alpha leaned over you to grab his mug, stopping suddenly.
You, finally trying to focus on this damn movie and not the deliciously frustrating Alpha pressed against you in all the right spots, glanced at him to see what the deal was. You followed his eyes to your…oh shit. You totally forgot about the tags. His dog tags. Which you stole. Shit.
Laughing nervously, you gently pull them out of your shirt to give them back to the Alpha and immediately begin to open your mouth to explain and apologize, but he sits back before you could take them off.
Your anxiety sky rockets as you sit there for a minute, the energy from him unreadable to you as you try and gouge his reaction and whether you should get the fuck out. Was this too far? Alphas are known to be extremely territorial and Bucky already owns very little belongings, obviously these would mean more to him than a bar of soap. Why didn’t you think of that?
You can’t believe you’ve messed up this bad, you just wanted to have some fun and maybe bring a smile to his ravishing, yummy, sinful, god-
Suddenly, he’s leaning towards you, big burly chest pushing you the rest of the way against the couch. Vanilla and strawberry fields climb into you brain and makes your head fuzzy and body go lax. A new smell made its way to your nose and nothing could stop the moaned whimper from tumbling past your lips. You knew you probably looked insane; flushed cheeks, pouted lips, glossy eyes, harsh breathing and surely a growing wet patch on your pants. If you thought your panties were done before, ha.
“Mega,” You feel him growl against your temple, “I’m gonna give you two minutes to run as close to your nest as you can. But, when I catch you, you’re mine. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
You whimper, releasing the most slick you’ve ever produced. Your glossy eyes meet his pure black pair, and he snarls at how fucked out you look. He prays you’ll let him rail you to heaven, he just needs one thing. He grabs your chin, asking consent.
You nod, taking a deep breath to clear your head. Fuck, bad idea. You squeak, throwing the covers off of your body and throwing a half-ass excuse over your shoulder as to why you’re leaving. Before you fully turn the corner of the couch, however, you can’t help but notice the twitching bulge in Bucky’s sleep shorts. You halter briefly, your Omega releasing a pitiful whine.
No fucking way you did that. An Omegas whine is sacred, meant only to be used in private or in dire emergency. This is common knowledge, drilled into you the second you reach primary.
Everyone stops short and stares at you, wondering why your Omega basically just asked every Alpha in the room to fuck her. You panic, and run.
The blood in your ears deafens you, the adrenaline in your blood and the Omega in your head force you to bypass the elevators completely, running straight for the stairs.
Was Bucky mad? He didn’t seem mad. He seemed like he felt the same about you, almost. Had he left yet? Was he still in the living room? Oh God, what if he was right behind you? Did something just brush your ass?
You feel like you’d been running forever, but your eyes widen as you see the sign above you read ‘2nd Floor.’ You whine, knowing the chances of you getting claimed in public, on the ground no less, are beginning to grow vastly. So, you run like you’ve never before.
Somewhere between the thirty sixth and thirty eighth step, the ground rumbled. You tripped, stopping to catch your breath briefly.
Bad mistake.
As you breathed in, Becky's scent knocked your Omega loose, making her howl at the pure sex he smelt of. You realized the ground was moving because of him, his Alpha unleashing the biggest growl you’d ever heard. You shove your growling Omega as far down as possible, knowing you’re almost in the final stretch.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” You said, scrambling to get up to your room as fast as possible as you finally realized what was going on.
He found his Omega.
And once an Alpha finds their Omega, they mate them. Usually within hours, but for True Alphas it has never taken longer than 5 minutes. Your lovely Buck is, of course, a True Alpha. What. The. Fuck. You’ll be damned if you take your dream Alphas knot in the middle of the tower and not in your nest. You just added 2 pairs of his freshly used boxers, it will absolutely be the only place you allow yourself to be claimed for the time being.
You burst through the fourth floor doors just as you risk a look back, finding Bucky staring straight back at you from the last step. Your Omega whimpers, putting all of its might in getting you to your door at the very least.
“Omega,” Bucky roared, his feet echoing down the hall as he starts to catch up to you rather fast. His intoxicating scent is slowly wiggling through your brain, slowly guiding all logic straight out of your head.
“Bucky — you are NOT claiming your Omega in the hallway she shares with Natasha and Wanda!” You yell over your shoulder, willing your legs to push you even harder. So close, y/n, just a few steps more.
The growl he lets loose at your words makes the primal part of your brain present pathetically, wanting nothing more than to let him take you right then and there. Let him pump you full and take care of his needy girl.
But you can’t do that.
As his growls continue, you push yourself the last few feet, straining, straining to reach the handle of your door until finally your grasp it and throw yourself into it, ripping it open and running to your bedroom.
You hear Bucky rampage the foyer, trying to place where the fuck his Omega went. You trip taking off your clothes, you can’t get this damn shirt off. Fuck buttons and fuck Bucky Barnes. Shit, shit, shit.
“Sweet mega. My sweet, sweet ‘mega. Can’t wait to stuff you full, y/n.” Bucky croons lowly as he passes the threshold into your room, staring into you as he watches you struggle. He licks his lips.
One, two beats of silence, both waiting for the shoe to drop.
“Alpha.” Your Omega surrenders, forcing you to bare your mating gland to the Alpha.
“My ‘mega.” Bucky grins, lunging at you.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
a/n: part II up now!!
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lunaisallyouneed · 7 months
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How submissive can you be to me😈😈😈😈
If you are bold enough and not ashamed of what you are tell me how submissive you can be……
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rv3rblog · 7 months
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alpha!gaz courting you based on this and this :p
warnings: abo talk, possessive nature, smut ? phone sex
nsfw (ish) under the cut !! 18+ mdni !!
kyle is absolutely nervous when you first agree to the courting. he spends all night researching what is right for a courting gift even calls price asking him for advice.
it isn’t until he continues researching that he realizes, he’s been courting you all along and it throws him off.
he sits there, blinking at his computer screen and grumbles upset that he could’ve known this earlier if he was just a tad bit braver.
nonetheless, he shows up to your place that afternoon with flowers in his hands and some sweets.
he can smell your scent sweeten at the sight of him, like it always did and he can’t believe how dumb and oblivious he’s been.
he scents you as soon as you let him in.
“need you smelling like me daring, can’t have anyone thinking you’re free for the taking.”
he is SO possessive it’s insane.
always has a hand around your waist or shoulder. if his scent starts to weaken even slightly he pulls you into an alleyway and scents you (makes you scent him back, loves smelling like you)
a little bit more into the courting process he gives you some clothing for you to add to your nest.
he always did so, even before properly clothing you but now he just can without there being any reason.
he loves seeing how shy you get when your heat nears and you awkwardly ask him for something that smells strongly like him.
he shows up with his bed sheets, a part of him wanting to give you his briefs for you to smell him, his desire for you during your heat but decided against it.
he shows up a day before your heat is supposed to hit and scents you deeply, nipping at your scent gland which makes you whimper and almost beg him to stay to help you during your heat but you guys hadn’t talked about it yet so you dont.
you call him in a heat daze and whine into the phone as you touch yourself.
“want you alpha,” you whine breathlessly. “need your knot mmf- alpha please.”
he isn’t fully caught off guard but he stays on the line with you, helping you through your heat.
“my poor omega,” he coos.
you whine.
“what’s wrong omega?” he asks.
“want you- keep.. mmf fuck- keep thinking it’s you touching me but ‘m not-”
“your fingers aren’t enough aren’t they baby?”
you shake your head as you whine childishly.
“they can’t please you baby?” he says cockily.
under any normal circumstance you would’ve told him to quite it and stop being so cocky however, this wasn’t a normal circumstance.
“alpha.”
“my omega, so needy. you want my fingers baby?”
“mhm.”
“want me to stretch you for my knot? want me to slowly stretch you out with my cock don’t you darlin’ hm? need me that bad don’t you?”
he chuckles into the phone which makes you whine loudly.
“so needy. such a needy omega,” he coos. “i’d take you slowly. make you cum on my tongue before even fingering you. even then-” the breath he lets out is shaky. “i’d make you cum two, maybe three times before i feed you my cock.”
his words make you moan loudly, whining into your phone that you’re close. he keeps talking, urging you to cum. he praises you as you moan his name, moan for him.
he stays on the line as you fall asleep for now, your heat only just beginning.
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teamatsumu · 1 month
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primal. (miya osamu x reader)
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word count: 2586
warnings: a/b/o dynamics, fem!omega reader, porn with minimal plot, swearing, typical omegaverse jargon (scent, heat, rut, slick, knot)
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose
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This was getting ridiculous.
Three whole days Osamu had not spoken to you. And for what? Because of a stupid argument you had about his new menu? In your mind, if he didn't want constructive criticism, he really should not have asked you for your opinion.
(You tried to ignore the gnawing guilt you felt that maybe you had been too harsh.)
But still, was it worth being this upset about? He hadn't replied to any of your messages. His phone was going straight to voicemail, and to top it off, even Atsumu hadn't heard from him. The blond twin had told you to just give him some space, and that he was ‘going through it’. But you scoffed. What exactly was he going through? All this over a controversial menu item? You didn't know Osamu could be so unreasonable over something so stupid.
Which is why you were standing at his door now, knocking for the last ten fucking minutes, while he didn't even bother to respond or open up. Your knocking had now progressed to vicious pounding, and you didn't give a shit if the neighbours heard. You were pissed. Osamu was being a baby and not communicating with you and you would make him talk if it was the last thing you did.
“Open this fucking door, Osamu!” You shouted for the tenth time.
“Go away!” Finally. Now that Osamu had gotten tired of your incessant pounding, he had finally responded. Triumph coarsed through you.
“I knew you were in there!” One more smack on the wood. “Open up. Now!”
“I'm tellin’ ya to go away.” His voice sounded strained. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit.
“What's up with you?”
There was some shuffling, and then a pained groan. Your muscles stiffened in alarm.
“Samu?” You could feel your anger drain away, replaced by worry. “Are you okay? Open the door!”
“Just go away. Everythin’ is fine. I'm not mad at ya. I just need ya to…. get away.”
You couldn't ignore the pain in his voice anymore. You tried the doorknob again to no avail. “Please let me in. I'm getting worried.”
Silence again. You leaned against the door, your panic only building. “Samu, please.”
Your anger was non-existent now. It didn't matter to you whatever stupid fight you two had gotten into. Your paranoid mind was racing and all you could think about was a million different ways that Osamu might be hurt. If anything happened to him…
Your heart imperceptibly broke.
You had known Osamu since high school, when him and his brother would melt your brain with their unnecessary fighting and competition. He was young and naive then, with that godawful gray hair that he thankfully abandoned after high school, and an attitude so fiery it left most other people in the dust. You couldn't understand why you were so attracted to him at first glance, but then he presented as an Alpha mere months after you first met, and your attraction to him became quite clear.
More than anything else, Osamu was your close friend. He understood you in a way his twin didn't, and you liked to think you were a good friend to him too. You kept your feelings for him pretty tightly wrapped up in your heart, afraid that an Alpha like him wouldn't want you. He was desired widely by many, many omegas. And he had always turned them down. If all those prime omegas weren't good enough for him, you didn't stand a chance.
So you lived with him as your friend, because you would rather have that than nothing at all.
You knocked on the door again, more softly this time, knowing he was right on the other side. “Samu, please let me in. Let me see.”
There was a thunk. You assumed Osamu had leaned his forehead against the door. “Omega…”
It clicked in you, like gears fitting into place. Your heart raced. You shuffled closer to the door until there was no more space left. You sniffed carefully.
There was his scent, heady and musky, sandalwood and something you had come to associate only with Osamu. A scent you had loved for so long it made you want to buckle to your knees. It was strong, heavier than any time you had smelled it before. It made your eyes cross, your breath pause. Something in your core stirred.
“Your rut?” You mumbled. You knew he heard you.
Osamu groaned low in response. Your thighs clenched.
Over the years, you observed that Osamu's ruts were rare. Maybe once every three months. He would always disappear a few days beforehand, and didn't reappear until it was well over and done. Atsumu said that since his ruts were so spaced out, they would always hit really hard. So you tended to leave him alone until he reached out first, talking normally and as if nothing had happened, picking up where he left off.
In your anger and with your fight fresh in your mind, you didn't realize that Osamu had likely gone off the grid because of his rut, and not because he was ignoring you. Now you were standing here, mere inches from an Alpha in full rut, with your own core tightening and something wet slowly dripping down the crease of your thigh. Your inhibition was slowly dissipating the more you frantically tried to breathe his faint scent. Your omega purred and whined.
“I could help.” You dared say. “I could help you, Alpha.”
Another groan, low and desperate, and you felt like it was rattling through your very soul. You bit your lip hard, hand twitching to move between your thighs, but you remained frozen. Osamu didn't move away from the door. His pants grew louder, and then he whined.
“Are you sure?” His muffled voice came, almost broken with desire. He wanted- needed- you to say yes. You nodded vigorously even if he couldn't see you.
“Yes!”
Some thudding, clicking, and then he pulled open the door. Your breath caught at the sight of him.
He was gloriously shirtless, and his loose sweatpants were doing nothing to hide his problem either. His erection was obvious, straining and standing against the struggling material of his pants. It would look almost comical if you weren't horny out of your fucking mind right now. His bare torso shone with a thin layer of sweat. You bit your lip so hard you were sure you drew blood.
“Holy fuck, you smell good.” Osamu's nose, more sensitive with his rut, twitched. His eyelids fluttered, and he took in a deep breath. You stared at him some more, wondering if you were dreaming.
“What are ya standin’ there for? C’mere, Omega.”
He tugged on your arm, until your body was making contact with his. Your hands rested on his chest, and you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating. He leaned down until his face was mere inches from yours. His breath hit your lips, made them tingle. Your core clenched painfully. His scent got stronger.
“Ya sure ya want this?”
You didn’t even have the strength to nod, feeling lightheaded. You only tilted your face up until your lips brushed his. “Please.”
A breathy curse, and then he was kissing you. His arms wrapped tight around your back, like he was scared you would disappear, one hand gripping possessively over your hip. You suspected it would leave a bruise.
You wanted it to leave a bruise.
He left you breathless when your lips parted. He tugged you in further and shut the door with a loud bang, before pushing you back against it. The manhandling turned you on to no end, the thought that you were someone Osamu was about to use to satisfy himself. Your already aroused mind went wild at the notion and you arched into him when he crowded you against the door, lips meeting in a frenzy. He bit and licked your mouth raw, invading your mouth like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you. You dug your nails into his biceps, reveling in the feeling of him, of finally having him the way you wanted. Your panties were soaked through by now. Your inner thighs held the signs of your desire.
His lips traveled down your neck next, licking and biting, inhaling and exhaling as he scented you. His cock pressed into your hip and you let him satisfy his need to leave his mark on you, basking in his scent that mixed with yours and how he laid his claim on you, albeit temporarily. His hands gripped hard at your sides, pushing your shirt up to run over bare skin.
“Wanted this so bad.” He rasped, biting dangerously close to your scent gland, you leaned into the sting. “Every rut. Ya know how many times I’ve jerked off to ya?”
His accent was thick, his words slurred. You were sure he was completely gone by this point. You gripped his hair hard.
“Wanted you too, Alpha.” You whimpered back. “Touch me, god, please.”
Osamu lifted you up then, two strong hands grabbing your asscheeks and carrying you across the room to where his couch was located. You wrapped your arms around his neck, taking the opportunity to lap and nip at his neck, scenting him back. Your drenched walls fluttered around nothing, crying and weeping for a nice, thick knot to fill you up.
You had a suspicion you wouldn’t have to wait long.
When Osamu dropped you on the couch, his hands immediately tugged on your clothes, pulling off your jeans and panties in one go. The fabric clung to you with how wet it was, and the air was cool on your burning skin. You used the moment to pull off your top until you were bare before him. Osamu kissed your calf, traveling up quickly with a few kisses laid on your skin. Your thigh, your stomach, the valley of your breasts, your jaw. He had tugged his sweats down already, and you felt something hard poke at your dripping entrance.
“Can’t wait, baby.” His voice trembled. “Need ya now. Need to knot ya so bad I’m gonna explode.”
And then he was sliding into your slicked up but unprepped pussy, carving his way through your spasming walls until a sharp pain went through you. You gasped at the glorious stretch, at your walls recognising an Alpha cock and opening up to accommodate him. Your wetness ran down your ass, likely soiling Osamu’s couch but you doubted he cared. He was cursing and whining in your ear, spine bending forward at the relief of finally sinking into a wet, ready cunt. His face was flushed a deep red, sweat building on his forehead. He sank into you to the base, your toes tingling with the sensation of being so full.
“Hold on, omega.” His last words. They almost sounded like a threat. Your breath caught.
Then he was gripping your hips and holding you down, before fucking into you hard and fast. You gasped at the sudden pace, legs pushed even further open as his cock repeatedly bullied itself into you. Your jaw went slack at the sensation, how he hit you so deep, sloppy noises filling the air along with your cries and his moans. His skin slapped hard against yours, leaving the inside of your thighs red and tender. His cock hit every spot just right. You felt your toes curl.
Osamu watched your reactions, nearly delirious himself, barely holding on by a thread.
“Feel good?”
You nodded frantically, fingernails scratching over his shoulders and arms. Osamu leaned down on his elbows, tongue poking out to lick at your lips every now and then.
“Tell me how good it feels. Tell me.”
“I-” You gasped and jolted with the force of his thrusts. Tears built up in your eyes and spilled down the sides of your face. “Can’t- can’t talk.”
“Yes you can.” His hand wound into the hair at the back of your head, tugging hard until you arched into him. “Say it. Say ya love my cock.”
“Love your cock.” You managed to wail, clamping down hard on him. He cursed and leaned down further, pace not even faltering in the slightest. His lips sealed themselves against the skin of your neck and he sucked hard.
“Tell me how bad ya want my knot.”
“Want it so bad.” You parroted, losing every coherent thought and just going along with what he was saying. Osamu continued to pound into you like he wasn’t even talking, like he wasn’t rearranging your guts or turning your legs to jelly. Like the base of his cock wasn’t rapidly swelling and catching on the rim of your hole.
Osamu pushed himself deep into you before stilling completely, and you nearly weeped in frustration.
“Tell me why ya deserve my knot.” He gritted, eyes meeting yours. Little golden flecks shown in his irises, and his incisors elongated below his bottom lip. He was deep, deep in the clutches of his rut. Combined with his messed up hair and flushed cheeks, he looked wild. Uninhibited. Dangerous. Your pleasure hit its very peak, teetering just over the edge, begging for that last push. You sobbed.
“Wanted you for so long.” You gasped and cried, tears pouring from your cheeks. “Wanted you to fuck me and knot me and give me your cum. Please, Alpha, please. I’ll be so good for you.”
Osamu groaned. Something in his eyes softened. He hooked a hand under your left knee and tugged it up, folding it against your torso. His cock pulled out before pushing back in, slowly picking up his pace again. You moaned loud, feeling your pit tighten up again.
“Why don’t ya cum fer me nice and hard, baby? Get me wet with your juice and then I’ll fill you up. Promise. I’ll shove this fat knot into your tiny little cunt. Just cum fer me, little omega.”
And you did. You arched into him, eyes rolling and arms seizing as you came harder than you ever had in your life. Electricity zipped through you and all air was punched out of your lungs until you felt that your very soul was leaving your body. You didn’t even register when Osamu groaned and stuttered in his pace, or when his knot swelled until it was bullied into your thoroughly fucked out and sore pussy. White hot cum filled your insides as he locked into you, hips flush against your own.
Strong arms wrapped around your waist as Osamu’s comforting weight settled on you. He licked and lapped at your neck softly, breathing into you until you were nothing but his scent, his touches, his marks. You panted and tried to catch your breath, legs trembling with aftershocks of the event. You could barely lift your arms to run over his bare back, but you managed. Osamu hummed at your soft touch.
All was silent beneath you two as the fog of his rut lifted. You could feel him slowly cool down, get pliant against you. You could almost sense his apprehension.
“Do ya regret it?”
You smiled slightly, staring up at the ceiling. “I meant it, Samu. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
You could feel his own smile against your neck, his embrace around you tightening. “Me too.”
Your skin buzzed with warmth. While Osamu breathed softly against your neck, you let yourself drift into a quiet sleep.
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