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soaps-mohawk · 10 days

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 17: Alone

Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,866

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.

A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see 🤭. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.

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“We'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.”

He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. You’re forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.

You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. You’re on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet it’s not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now.

You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart.

You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then they’d be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but it’s never felt like this. They’re not just across base from you, they’re probably in an entirely different country.

You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghost’s closed door feels particularly empty.

You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. You’re not quite sure what you’re going to do, now that you don’t have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while they’re at training, except you won’t have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to.

It’ll be days before you see them again.

If you see them again.

You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You won’t entertain it, not now while you’re still trying to process the fact that they’re gone. Even if it is a possibility.

You’re sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You don’t want to be without it, in case they call. You don’t want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if it’s your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.

You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesn’t feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. She’s been here before, and you trust her.

“How are you doing?” She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you.

“I don’t know.” You say, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I don’t blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?”

You nod. “Yeah. It’s too quiet. Too empty.”

“I bet.” You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. “Let’s get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.”

“Was gonna happen eventually, though.” You say. “For the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.”

“It does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if it’s short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what it’s like.”

“I’m trying not to think about that.” You say.

“I think that’s the best thing you can do right now.” She squeezes your arm. “Come on, we’ll get the food to go and we’ll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. It’s much quieter than the mess.”

You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you won’t have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, you’re sure it would have only been worse.

“Make yourself at home.” Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. “You can sit at the desk to eat, if that’s more comfortable. I don’t mind.”

You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, she’s always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you.

“If there’s one thing I miss, it’s good diner food.” Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat.

You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. “I miss a lot of things.”

“Would you ever want to go back and visit America?” Dr. Keller asks.

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“I’m sure they’d take you, if you asked.” She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. “I don’t think there’s much they wouldn’t do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.”

“I’m starting to realize that.” You say.

“Good. It’s reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. You’ve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.”

It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment.

“Can I ask you something?” You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts.

“Of course.” She says, looking up from the papers she’d been looking through.

“Since I’m your only patient, what do you do all day?” You ask.

She smiles. “I do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.”

“Do you ever feel like you’re wasting your skills here?”

She shakes her head. “No. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, there’s a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.” She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. “It’s no less fulfilling than working at institutes. It’s nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.”

“It is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.” You say. “There were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They weren’t always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.”

“Unfortunately that’s rather common with residents.” She says. “Most of them don’t make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.” She smiles at you. “Now my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You won’t hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.”

You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also don’t want to be alone.

“I’d...like to stay here, if that’s okay?” You finally say, making your decision.

“More than okay.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home, do whatever you’d like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You won’t bother me in the slightest. You’re always welcome to hang out in here.”

You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesn’t calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit.

You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you.

You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing they’re not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away.

You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know it’s an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents you’ve had with them. The most they do is stare, though that’s to be expected as an omega.

What if they’re holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment.

You’re shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you’ve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller won’t be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope they’d help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you?

Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you don’t get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? It’s not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you?

You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No one’s coming through the door, no one’s going to try and hurt you.

Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday.

The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact you’re freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’re still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of John’s shirts and sweatpants.

You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You won’t sleep, but at least you’re not panicking anymore.

The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news.

You’re not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know they’re all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them.

You’re still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. You’re exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. You’re constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling.

Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. It’s a risk you’re well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you.

You’re not sure you’d survive that.

Most omegas don’t.

“Still nothing?” Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least.

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

“Sometimes no news is good news.” She says. “I know you’d prefer to have any news at all, though.”

“I can’t stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?” You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard.

“Kate promised she’d call if something happened, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“She’s a woman of her word, I can say that much. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re very capable soldiers. They wouldn’t be in Spec Ops if they weren’t, much less on a highly specialized team.” Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. “It’s still hard, not knowing where they are or what they’re doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.” She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. “I still don’t think she’s completely forgiven him. It’s hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you can’t have constant reassurance that they’re alright.”

Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. “Your mom was an omega?”

She nods. “And dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I don’t think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.” She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. “Come on, lay down.” She directs you.

You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. “Is that why you’re so good at this job?”

She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. “Maybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.” She gently squeezes your arm. “They’ll be alright. They’re probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.”

You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. “What if I fall asleep and it rings?”

“Then I’ll make sure you get a chance to answer it.” She says, squeezing your arm again. “I promise. Get some rest.”

You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if they’re lying dead somewhere right now? What if something’s happened to Kate and she can’t tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know?

Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Keller’s couch. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it as you begin to drift off to sleep.

Screaming. It’s loud, piercing your ears. Something’s holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you don’t care.

“You won’t take her from me! I won’t let you!”

You’re crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you.

Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it won’t let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go.

You know what will happen if you let go.

“She’s no daughter of mine.”

The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over?

Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. You’re being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your mother’s hold and into the unknown.

“Easy, easy.”

You’re gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you.

“Deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.”

Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest.

“You’re alright, you’re safe.”

You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. You’re on the couch in Dr. Keller’s office still. You’re not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare you’ve lived over and over.

Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms.

“You’re alright,” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently.

You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch.

“How long have you been having nightmares?” She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself.

“Since my heat.” You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly.

“You haven’t said anything about it.” She says gently, shifting slightly so she’s facing you.

“I didn’t want to.” You say quietly, shame burning through you. She’s not reprimanding you, yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. “I shouldn’t be having them, I mean...it’s not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.”

“It might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing you’ve been through.”

Her words give you pause. You’ve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done, are far worse than anything you’ve experienced. The things you’ve experienced may pale in comparison, but they’re your experiences. No one else’s.

“If you want to talk about them, that’s what I’m here for.” Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do.

You don’t have to tell her. She won’t force you to do it. She won’t force you to do anything, to say anything you don’t want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who won’t tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you.

You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. “My nightmares, they’re always about the day I left for the institute.” You start, taking a shaky breath. “I haven’t had them in years.”

“You were sent early after your presentation, right?” She asks.

“The day after.” You answer.

“Being sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I can’t even imagine what being sent that soon was like.” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we don’t feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.”

“You think that’s what’s happening?” You ask.

“It’s possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why you’re having nightmares about that event suddenly.”

“Is there anything that will make them stop?” You ask.

“There’s some things we can do together that might help the process. I’m more than happy to help you with it, if that’s what you’d like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.”

“What are we gonna tell John?”

She gives you a look. “Well, I’d advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, that’s entirely up to you and what you want to do.”

You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently.

“Think about it.” She says. “We can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.”

You’re brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before you’re answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadn’t even checked the screen to see who was calling. You’re just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence.

“Hello?”

There’s a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. “Alpha.” The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing John’s voice after so many days.

“I’m here. We’re all here.” He says, distant voices sounding in the background.

A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. “Missed you.”

“I know, we’ve missed you too.”

You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. “You alright? Is everyone alright?”

“We’re alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we haven’t had before. How are you holding up?”

The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. You’ve been depressed and worried and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that you haven’t panicked about something. You’ve been having horrible nightmares and haven’t been sleeping. There’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you’re afraid it might kill you if you don’t see them soon.

“I’m alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.”

“I know, sweetheart.” There’s a sound on the other end, something you can’t make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment you’re worried you were disconnected, but John’s voice cuts through the noise again. “We’re finishing up here soon, and we’ll be home in a couple of days.”

You can’t help but sigh in relief at his words. They’re alright. They’re all safe, and they’re going to be home soon. You’re going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. “Hurry back.” You say, your voice shaky with emotion.

“We’ll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but we’ll be back before you know it.”

Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe it’s the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing they’re really alright paired with the knowledge that they’ll be home soon. Two days doesn’t seem so far now that you know that’s all that stands between you and seeing your pack again.

You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even John’s bed have started to smell more like you.

The first thing you’re going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until they’re the only thing you can smell.

For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. It’s not much, but it’s a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you.

You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your pack’s imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know they’re coming home soon. You clean up John’s room, making his bed again after you’d made a mess of it trying to sleep. They’re all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely won’t be spending much time in it for a while. You’re going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared.

You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes you’d stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. You’re not expecting a knock yet. It’s too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her.

That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you don’t know.

Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You don’t know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless it’s an emergency. Is there an emergency? You’re almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. There’d be some sign that something was happening, but it’s quiet outside, or at least, there’s no noises you’re not expecting.

The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door.

You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They don’t, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. There’s a soldier outside your door. A woman. You don’t recognize her, but then again you don’t see many women on the base, and you don’t pay much attention to the other soldiers.

Maybe you need to start paying more attention.

She’s a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. She’s wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here.

She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. “General Shepherd is waiting for you.”

It takes you a moment to process what it is she’s saying. You’ve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority you’ve met is John, but you know he’s only a Captain. There’s others above him, but you weren’t any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadn’t even been given names of anyone higher up than her.

Apparently something’s changed.

Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isn’t right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldn’t have opened the door so recklessly.

“But, I’m not supposed to-” You begin, unsure of what to do now.

“It’s a direct order from your superior.” The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.

You’re not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and he’s certainly not behind this.

You wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Not right now.

“Okay, okay.” You say, stepping back slightly from the door. “Let me just get some shoes on.”

You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you don’t put it past the woman outside to barge in if you don’t hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again.

She’s still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. You’re reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost.

You’d take those times back over this right now.

Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake you’ve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. You’re not even sure General Shepherd is a real person.

The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did?

You don’t want anyone to get in trouble.

Especially not with this being the first time you’ve been on your own. They’ve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while they’re gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything you’ve built by misbehaving.

The woman leads you to a building you haven’t been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if they’re testing you to see if you’d just blindly leave with a stranger while they’re not there to protect you.

You’ve made a big mistake.

The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. “Your phone.”

You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You don’t have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door.

It’s bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. You’re uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesn’t seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. You’re thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line.

He’s in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all.

You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though it’s only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf.

No one will hear you scream. No one will care.

“My name is General Shepherd.” He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. “I am the acting commander of Task Force 141.”

You’re not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though you’ve never met him before in your life.

“I was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?”

You shake your head. “N-No sir, the CIA didn’t give me any names.”

“Good.” His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves any. “They weren’t supposed to. I’m sure you’ve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.”

“Yes, sir.” You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe.

“I came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You’re getting along well with them?”

You nod again. “Yes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.”

“Good.” He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while you’re so vulnerable. “The success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. You’re doing important work here with the Task Force.” His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark.

You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you.

No one would know. No one would care.

“I’m satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.” He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. “How have you been adjusting to them being gone?”

“It’s been difficult,” You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. “But I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.”

His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. “You’re a smart girl. That’s why I chose you for this position. You’re doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.”

Something about his words don’t sit right with you.

You’re trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. You’re sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside.

You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that she’s breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust that’s so sacred to packs.

She doesn't even seem bothered by it.

She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you.

You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words.

She’s American.

“Thank you for escorting me.” You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Have a safe trip home.”

You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief.

Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it.

You always close your door. You always ensure it’s shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks.

You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. It’s open. Your door is open.

Someone was inside your room.

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx

@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai

@redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg

@beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff

@smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60

@evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine

@thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows

@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce

@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood

@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #tf 141 x reader #poly 141 #task force 141 x reader

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dawnstar137 · 2 years

Text

When I’m talking Poly dynamics I don’t say polycule. I say polecular structure (poll-ehc-ular ) and it makes me happier about it bc Poly shit can really be like that one tiktok sound. I love this guy and he loves this other guy but the second guy and I hate each other and it can go on and if I have a Polecular Structure/Poly Dynamic I’m making a big thing on the wall that says “Polecular structure” that looks like molecules but all the dots have people initials and the lines are strings color coded for our relationship.

#polyamourous #polyamory #polecular #polecular structure #poly dynamics #me #it’s me #pink says #I just wanna tie a little cord from my ititals to yours babe

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sprout-fics · 9 months

Note

do you think there is tension between the pack and her after her heat stops? I can only imagine she's extremely flustered

Oh Absolutely-

Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Five: Interest)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Omega discrimination, Slow burn

Masterlist

You wake on the final day of your heat alone

You fell asleep on Gaz's chest, panting into his neck with fever, and it was only once he scruffed you, kneaded your gland with his thumb and whispered husky little affirmations in your ear that you finally calmed

It doesn't take you long to figure out that you're finally (mostly) back to normal. You're no longer feverish, your head feels clear, and though your body is exhausted, your joints no longer hurt, your head doesn't throb

By some mercy, you aren't devastatingly horny anymore either

Your bed is littered with clothes that aren't yours, and you can tell by the scent alone who they belong to. Your body remembers the press of Ghost and Price inside you, hovering over you in the desert heat as they tried to calm the horrific sickness inside you, flush your system free of toxins

You've never held it against them. They saved your life, even if it was through means out of your control. Yet now your legs clench at the memory, the distant wish that somehow they might do it again.

It's awkward as hell, and by the next day when you're back to duties you do your best to avoid all of them, head ducked and skittering out of sight in a mixture of shame and bashfulness at the desire carving it's way inside you

It's wrong. Their your commanding officers. Your superiors. What they did was simply a favor, making sure you weren't horrifically sick and or dying. Nothing more than that

When Soap calls for you in the mess hall, when Gaz tries to sidle up to you at the firing range, when Ghost postures behind you after drills to ward off other alphas, when Price pulls you aside- you find ways to slink out of sight, face too warm and eyes turned down

You know they notice, you know they're confused, maybe even hurt, but you try to tell yourself it's for the best. You just need to tough it out for a few more weeks before you're back on suppressants again

You can't avoid them forever though, and eventually you're summoned on another mission with them

Price catches you by the arm before you load up, eyes you and forces you to meet his gaze before inquiring softly about you, and you tremble under his scrutiny, insist "I'm fine, captain."

You can see in the tight draw of his lips he doesn't believe you, and you can't blame him. Yet he releases you, strides past you onto the plane

You're in Al-Mazrah, hunting down an ex-pat who defected to AQ, one who holds valuable intel that you can't allow to fall into the wrong hands

It's a simple mission. Capture, do not kill. A hunting expedition

One that turns wrong too quickly

You're clearing a building when you see a shadow out of the corner of your eye. It moves too fast to trace, and before you can aim at it a arm wraps around your chest, a hand moving to your face too late to silence your scream

Your attacker hisses in a language you don't understand, but between the words you can make out a single one that is all too familiar

"Omega."

You freeze, feel dread wash icy through your veins before thrashing violently, trying to reach for the blade tucked in your tac vest

You don't get the chance, because the rush of your heart beat is deafened by a feral, roaring growl that echoes deep in the chest of a familiar form

Ghost.

The alpha rips the man from you, all but throws him against a wall so hard you hear something crack- unsure if it's bone or plaster

You tremble where you stand, shaken, forcing yourself to reach for your blade, when a hand settles gently on yours

"Stay."

The word is growled in a low, gruff order, one that reeks of alpha authority, and you look up to see Price's teeth bared in a sneer, watching as the alpha before he towers over the crumpled form of your attacker

Something inside you withers away gently, and in your shaken state you press into Price's side instinctively, watching your other alpha raise his weapon and fire once into the man's skull

Price's arm wraps around you reflexively, tucking you further into his side protectively

It shouldn't shake you, this. You've had far worse encounters than this one, but the echo of the man's voice in your ears, purring a low, threatening growl resounds endlessly in your thoughts. "Omega."

He was going to hurt you

He never got the chance

Ghost strides over to you, long steps quickly closing the distance, and in any other context you'd retreat from him, his towering posture indicative of a threat

Now, however, you lean up into his hands as they cup the sides of your face, turn it back and forth to look for wounds. One finger grazes across your scent gland with intoxicating, familiar smell, and your knees wobble

"Solid?" Price asks you, and you force yourself to nod in reassurance

"S-solid." You answer despite the waver of your voice, and though both of them nod, they seem reluctant to release their hold on you

There's a distant part of your brain that slinks velvety across your thoughts, and you're unable for a moment to ignore the overwhelming instinct of warmth, safety, protection, shelter, Alpha-

"Easy, omega." Price soothes, and it snaps you back to yourself, realizing your want has somehow bled into your scent. You look to the captain, aghast, but there's only a fond amusement there that makes your heart flutter deep beneath your stomach

The rest of the mission goes smoothly, and you notice Price and Ghost sticking closer to you than usual. It's only once you get back to base, wash their scents from you that you realize

You're already theirs

#poly 141 x reader #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #omegaverse tf 141 #omegaverse cod #omegaverse dynamics #omegaverse #drabbles #headcanons

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remuslupinslittleslut · 28 days

Note

Okay hear me out teach me dynamic with a reward. James and Sirius have been so good so reader convincing Remus to let them spit roast her or one in the ass one in the pussy yknow while he watches, making sure they fuck her just right and eventually ends up joining somehow.

Idk just an idea

love your work xoxo

I got a bit excited and now this ended up being almost 2k. LOVED this request though, I'm thinking I might have to make a new list just for the teach me stuff, like it's another kind of poly marauders. If I had the energy to post content warning I probably would on this one it is quite filthy from time to time, but it thought it was v fun :)

Masterlist.

You had made a deal; if your boyfriends played well out on the pitch today, you’d give them a reward. It was a bit of an excuse, really, because they always played well.

Holding the hand of Remus, you sat on the edge of your seat, cheering as James made another goal. As he did a victory lap on his broom, your cheeks heated up – he always made sure to send you a wink and a wide grin. The cocky bastard knew what was coming. Squeezing Remus’ hand, you leaned in to whisper in his ear; “They’re good, really good.”

Remus chuckled, squeezing your hand in return. “Yeah,” he murmured, against your ear, eyes never leaving his two other partners. “We’re gonna have to give them a treat.”

To no one’s surprise, Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw with over 100 points, leading to a roaring party up in Gryffindor tower. The party, however, was just background noise as you waited on Sirius’ bed.

You and Remus had agreed, he’d tie you up in gold and red ribbons, leave you in their dorm and go get the others, who would be gifted your body for them to unwrap.

The cold air made your nipples perk as you lay on the bed. It was a dangerous game, you knew, letting your two subs take control over your body, allowing them to play the role of the dominant person, if only for a night. Remus had cautioned you, but after becoming submissive with Remus alone, you thought it might be fun to let them as well – besides, Remus would be there the entire time, watching, making sure everything went as it should.

“Are we getting our gift?” You heard Sirius’ voice as they walked up the stairs, excitement evident.

“Is Y/N in here?” James followed, just as excited.

Stopping just outside the door, you heard Remus speak, his voice determined and rough. “You’re about to be rewarded, not just for your performance today, but also for your good behavior these past few days,” he said, and you knew the look on his face without having to see him. “You’re going to be allowed one evening of full control – but remember, if you disobey any of our underlying rules, you will still get punished. Can you tell me what they are?”

“Don’t hurt ourselves or anyone else, always listen to safewords, always check for consent, don’t be rude to daddy and no lasting injuries,” James listed, as the good boy he always was.

“Good Jamie,” Remus’ voice was softer now. “Go ahead then.”

As the door opened, you felt your heartbeat quicken.

“Wow,” Sirius gasped, the first person in through the door. “Pretty girl, all wrapped up for us?”

You turned your head to face him from where you lay on his bed, ribbons cutting into your skin, making sure you stayed in place. You nodded as your cheeks heated once more.

“Prongs, you’ve gotta see this,” Sirius cooed, dragging James along.

James’ eyes were wide and glossy from behind round glasses, his brown cheeks tinted pink as well.

“Go ahead, boys,” Remus said, plopping down on his own bed. “Unwrap your gift.”

Their eyes moved between your body and Remus’, not sure if they were actually allowed. But when Remus chuckled and nodded once more, they pounced, hopping onto the bed and pulling at the strings around your body.

“Hi darling, you’re so pretty f’me,” Sirius said, leaning down to kiss you. His lips tasted like firewhiskey and his long hair tickled your face.

James was busy making sure all pieces of ribbon left your body, before he allowed his hands to grab at your tits.

“Go on then, boys,” Remus said from his own bed. “Get on with it.” Looking over to him, you saw his hand was wrapped around his semi-hard cock, slowly jerking up and down.

Arching your back, you tried to push James’ hands harder into your chest, as you moaned into Sirius’ mouth.

“Is that what you want, princess?” Asked Sirius, hand holding your chin as he pulled away slightly. “You want us to fuck you? Make you cum on our cocks while daddy watches?”

They knew you sometimes let Remus be your daddy, even as you were mommy to Sirius and James – but they’d never used it against you like that. It was hot, very hot, and you felt yourself slip further into your submissive persona even more as you desperately nodded up at Sirius. “Please.”

“Jamie, look at that, little slut wants us to fuck her,” Sirius taunted.

James still looked a little uneasy with the switched positions, but you reached out a hand to hold his. “Jamie, please, wanna taste you,” you whined, trying to ease him into it. “Please, Jamie, let me suck your cock.”

Your words made James’ eyes widen, before he looked to Remus, again. “Can I?” He asked.

“Yes, James, you can do whatever you want to her, for tonight,” Remus assured, cock growing harder.

Nodding, James got up and started undressing. Sirius did the same.

Having gotten consent, James wasted no time straddling your chest and leaning down to kiss you quickly before placing his hard cock right in front of your face. Doing a half crunch, you pushed your head up and opened your mouth, tongue falling out, eyes meeting James’. “Fuck,” he groaned, hips coming forward enough to push his cock into your open and waiting mouth. Using your tongue, you licked around the head, spreading precum around. He always tasted so good.

Between your legs, you felt Sirius’ fingers pushing against your swollen clit before diving deeper, slipping into your wet cunt. You were prepared, had let Remus finger you open before, making sure you were ready for your boys. Still, Sirius’ expert fingers plunging in and out of your pussy felt fuckin’ amazing.

“Such a good girl,” James murmured, having pulled out of your mouth temporarily, allowing you to breathe.

“The best,” Sirius agreed, tongue reaching out to lap at your sensitive nub. “So pretty, so tasty.”

You moaned, arching your back. It felt so nice, receiving all that attention and praise, and if you looked to the side, you saw Remus smiling softly, hand squeezing the root of his cock, trying to stop himself from cuming.

“Such a little cock-whore, though,” Sirius said, pushing the limits even further. “D’you want me to fill your little hole? D’you need cock on both ends to be happy?”

James groaned, Sirius’ words had made you moan around James’ cock, now back in your mouth, and the vibrations sent pleasure all through James’ body. “I think she does, pads,” James said, hand brushing hair out of your face.

Sirius’ fingers left you, making you feel empty and alone, but it wasn’t long until his cock replaced them, filling your dripping cunt, making you speared on cock from both ends. This was heaven. James’ hips moving slowly, pushing his cock down your throat, letting your nose get tickled by the hair and the beginning of his shaft on every thrust. Sirius snapping his hips, allowing your g-spot to be perfectly grazed by his head.

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned. “She’s taking us so well. D’you see this moons? Your cockslut is so good for us.” His head was thrown back, hands pressing into your legs as he thrust his hips, moving his cock in and out of you. “Fuck, James, flip her over.”

Both cocks pulled out of you, making you whine from the loss of contact. It didn’t last long though, soon you were flipped to lay on your stomach, head almost falling off the edge of the bed, but James’ hand in your hair kept you up as he pushed his cock into your mouth again. Behind you, Sirius straddled your thighs, pushing just your arse up as he, too, once again penetrated you – making you full of cock, and happy again.

Straining your eyes to look up at James, you used your tongue to give extra attention to his head, while your hips started moving in little circles, walls clamping down harder on Sirius. As much as you enjoyed this, you wanted to be active in their orgasms.

James went first, hands pulling even harder at your hair as he threw his head back, hips stuttering as his cock shot white globs of cum down your throat. Moaning, you opened your mouth, playing with his cum using your tongue. Leaning down, James gave you an open mouthed kiss, allowing his own cum to be split between the two of you.

Sirius, who had witnessed James coming down your mouth was also getting close, hips pushing against yours, hard. When James had moved away from you, Sirius leaned down to pull your chest up, one hand in your hair, the other squeezing your tit.

“Such a good little cockslut, huh, took Jamie so well, gonna let me cum in you? Fill you up? Watch it run down your legs? Gonna let me do that, huh?”

Sirius’ filthy words only made you moan louder, walls squeezing him harder.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m–” His hips slowed as he gave his final few thrusts, pushing his cum even further into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he kissed the back of your neck before moving away.

Remus, who still hadn’t allowed himself to cum came over. “Everyone okay?” He asked, looking at all his littles. “You did so well,” he looked at you. “But you two,” he pointed to Sirius and James, “missed something. You didn’t make our girl cum.”

They both looked ashamed, and a little disappointed that they’d missed something during their night.

Remus leaned down and kissed your nose. “Can you ride my face, darling?”

That sounded amazing and you quickly got up and sat yourself down over his face. His tongue was good, he knew how to use it and when he had to add his fingers to make sure you felt as good as possible. Licking along your damp lips, Remus used two fingers to push into you, the pads of his fingers immediately pressing against your spongy walls.

Moving your hips, you dragged your cunt along Remus’ face. You wished you could’ve disappeared into a world of pleasure, but his leaking cock looked so lonely, you had to lean down and wrap your fingers around it. Remus pushed his hips, making his cock glide through your fingers as he moaned against your heat.

The other two men were sitting next to you, mouths agape and cocks growing hard again after their orgasms. Watching them as you took Remus into your mouth, you saw their members bob at the view.

Remus quickened his pace, tongue licking and lips sucking around your clit as his fingers moved faster in and out of you. He wanted to make sure you came before you did. Hips and head moving faster, you felt yourself get thrown over the edge, wetting Remus’ whole face as you squirted, causing a chain reaction of Remus coming into your mouth, where James had just done the same thing. “That’s how you treat a girl,” Remus said, wiping his face with his hands, sending his friends a wink.

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majunju · 3 months

Note

I just saw you played even if tempest and I just inhaled that and the fandisk. Have you ever drawn any art for it? I can't find content and the Tyril brain rot is strong in me

i've drawn like maybe two lucien pieces and here's a sketch of a scene from the connection route in the FD that i never posted here

#asks #even if tempest #dewdles #i think even if tempest is one of my fav otome games ever if we're talking ab group dynamics #like theyre all jst in one big poly relationship in the connection and tbh. i wldnt want it any other way

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marisferasiop · 7 months

Text

Transplant

Chapters: 2/3 up

Also on ao3 (part 2 now up on ao3!)

Rating: Explicit MINORS DNI- Clicking "read more" implies your consent!

Warnings: canon-typical gore, canon-typical violence, smut, p in v (unprotected, wrap your tool) no creampies, oral, hand jobs, money shots (we don't want apocalypse babies) mention of abortion (in passing- reader is a doctor), tremendous fluff ahead, some angst (re: Joel's insecurities), Ezra is his own warning, Joel is not bi in this but Ezra is (not rly acted upon but mentioned), poly dynamics and conversations, Ellie moving out, Cee and Ellie will be together by the end. Did I mention smut; literally the opening scene is smut.

Summary: You are a resident and the only trained doctor in Jackson. You're bubbly and sweet, outgoing and friendly--- and also in an unlabeled "situationship" with the town scrooge, Joel Miller. He won't say you're together, but he'll scare anyone else off.

When Tommy drags back a half- dead man and girl from a patrol, you dutifully patch them up and help them settle into their new slotted house- across Rancher Street from yours and Joel's houses. Ellie and Cee get in like a bonfire, and when Joel sees how often you talk to your newest patient, his insecurities make him draw up and away from you.

As you slowly give up on him and start something with Ezra, Joel's pining turns to frustration. Tommy convinces him to see if you'd be interested in being a throuple. Surprisingly, you and Ezra are both open to the idea.

But can Joel's insecurities and possessiveness withstand such an arrangement? Or will the blow of another loss be what finally breaks him?

Word count: about 10k (for part one of 3)

Author notes: Eyooooo I'm back on my bullshit with a new addition. This has been on ao3 for about a week. Please like and reblog to spread the wealth! Unlike ao3 this is not an archive and views depend on your interaction! (So does my continued writing!)

Part One:

Joel has got you absolutely wrung dry.

You’re bent over your kitchen island, toes barely brushing the floor and thighs shaking from the aftershocks of your third ( fourth ?) orgasm since he’d shouldered his way through your door nearly an hour ago. Every time you gasp, he snaps his hips harder up into you.

Never fully satisfied with a fuck-and-duck, Joel had strode in, picked you up, kissed you senseless while he shoved your jeans down, smeared you face down across the countertop, and ate you from behind so thoroughly you weren't sure you could even take his cock from how tight he had your pussy clenched around his tongue and fingers.

But he had slipped into you easily, your drooling slick helping his fat girth stretch you wide despite the contractions of your most recent orgasm. He pounds into you now, with you pinioned efficiently under his breadth with a hand fisted in your hair at your nape and him holding your wrist in place behind your back to your opposite hip with the other. His soft grunts and murmured praise make your spine arch. Your hips are already bruising from the counter edge, and you bite your lip at the mental image of seeing that erotic evidence later.

You push your free hand beyond the ledge of the worktop and swirl your fingers over your engorged, oversensitive clit, propelling you quickly into another orgasm- though this one is not as strong. Your body is absolutely exhausted from his diligent overworking.

“ Almost - honey , just –” he grunts rhythmically with the slap of his hips, and pulls out to spill across your ass just as abruptly as he’d dove in. He drapes down over your back, catching his breath with his mouth fastened on your shoulder. You reach up and wind your fingers in his hair, keeping him bowed over you, warm and close, catching your breath. Barely a minute passes before he pulls back and is moving slowly away to the bathroom under the stairs to fetch a damp cloth.

He wipes at the mess between your legs and on your lower back, and you think of him planting a firm hand there earlier to guide you out of the Tipsy Bison after catching a guy just winding down from that day’s supply scouting trip having the audacity to flirt (poorly) with you.

Joel won't say he's yours , or you’re his , but he’ll sure as hell scare off any competition. You’d bring it up if it was bothersome; in reality you sort of like the unleashed, broad, imposing dominance of him, paired with the open availability for sex that he’s left largely up to you. Like an ongoing, wildly overprotective booty call.

The thought makes you huff a quiet laugh into your forearm.

Most of Jackson is still wide-eyed and wary of him. Rumors of how he and Ellie made it back to Jackson are rife with hyperbole- making the nearing-sixty older man out to be some sort of superhuman mass murderer.

You’re just sure that even if he is, he did what he had to to protect his little girl.

Even more rumors abound about how the town’s resident scrooge managed to stake a(n unsubstantiated) claim on the town’s most level- headed and sun-shiney bachelorette- the commune’s only actual doctor.

Joel is tossing the soiled rag in the sink and helping you back to your feet on wobbly legs when there's a pounding at your door.

“Come on, Sunny! We got an injured guy back from patrol!” you hear Brendan, the head of the wall patrol yelling from the porch.

“ Shit ,” you yank your clothes back up in a hurry. You blink up at Joel, pulled too fast from bliss into action. “Sounds like I'll be at the clinic late.”

Joel nods and shoves his boots on, intending to take the back door and cut through the back yard to his house next door. “See ya tomorrow, then, hon,” he murmurs. He drops a kiss to your cheek and shuts the door behind him, locking the knob.

You grab your heavy coat and shrug it on to beat the swirls of snow outside before rushing out and meeting Brendan on the street.

“What happened?”

“Patrol brought in a girl and her dad, he’s unconscious, feverish, and bleeding real bad. Both are hypothermic. Tested negative of course, both of ‘em, but I'm not real sure the guy’s gonna make it.” You are both hurrying across town back to your clinic as fast as the frigid air icing down your throat will let you.

“Animal, infected, or raiders?”

“I think they broke off a slaver ring,” Brendan says quietly, leaning in as you rush up the porch. “That, or some raiders had them for a while . He’s -- I don't know what to make of the arm injury, it’s fucked . But he’s been stabbed in the chest, and Sam said she thinks he’s got frostbite.”

“ Fuck ,” you growl, and wrench open the door to your clinic and rush to the back. Immediately, five heads turn to you and sigh in relief. Sam, your nurse, has an unconscious man hooked up to IV and is covering his freezing body with the weighted damp- heat warming pads from the steamer. You can tell from the port in his throat that she couldn't find a vein in his arms, he’s that cold and dehydrated.

“Everyone out but the girl and whoever found them,” you quip to the group, and three people file out. The girl is on a chair, shivering violently but already has a cup of something steaming cupped in both hands and is still in somewhat damp, bloody clothes, though her wet shoes and socks are on the floor by the space heater. Her face and hands are smeared with dried blood, but from a glance you can tell it’s probably her dad’s. Tommy is standing by her, still and waiting on your opinion. He drapes a blanket across her shoulders and looks to you.

You pull gloves on and check the man’s pulse- it’s weak but there. He’s absolutely frigid to the touch. The fingers on his right hand are completely purplish- black, but the whole arm is a loss anyway. Sam has already pulled off his soaking wet clothes; jeans, socks, and boots, and a damp contrast coat lays crumpled on the pile, arms still laced through with a flannel in the same condition. A wet trail of blood is leaking from the pile and you squint at it; it’s red- fresh . The man himself is in naught but his rank briefs and is positively covered in heating packs and blankets to get his temp back up.

You look directly at Tommy and shake your head once. He clenches his jaw and nods, turning to the girl. “We need details , hon. Anything you can give us that will help. Was this people, or a group of infected? Raiders? Or slavers? A trap? A- a bear ?” He asks, kneeling on one knee by her and speaking softly. The girl is practically catatonic, a feral glint the only light in her eyes. Her clothes and hair are matted down with blood as well, but doesn't appear injured, nothing more than superficially anyway. After a minute, she speaks:

“We were at a- a slave camp. Some raiders had taken over our QZ and turned it into a slave camp, a year or two ago after the bombings,” she says woodenly, staring at the man- who Brendan had told you was her father.

You see no resemblance, but then Joel has none to Ellie. That doesn't mean there's no bond. These days, bonds are often thicker than blood.

“We made a plan, snuck out with a guy who told us he was a coyote- like a smuggler, but for people? - but he just led us to a cabin outside the walls where they take people trying to escape. It was a trap.” Her eyes flick up to Tommy and then back to you.

“They were going to hurt me, and he said to take it out on him instead. So they did that,” she nods to the man’s mangled arm. “And I shot both of them when they were distracted. The second guy, I missed the first shot and he stabbed–” she breaks off, biting her lip, staring at the chest wound. “But I got him , and then we ran.”

“ Jesus ,” Tommy breathes. You grimace and plunge a dose of morphine into the guy’s shoulder. He doesn't even stir. You watch his face, swollen and mottled and bloodied up as it is. He’s got a laceration up into his hairline as well, both eyes blackened and you suspect a broken nose, a split lip and old, dried blood coming out of one ear. You grit your teeth and turn back to the girl.

“How long has it been?” You ask, peeling the flannel he’s wearing off his mutilated arm. The wound is the entire circumference of his arm, like they were literally trying to hack it off slowly, with small tools. They stopped at bone, but you can see scrapings on the white. It wasn't for lack of trying.

“We’ve been running from the cabin for three days. I dont- I don't know how long we were there. At first we had a horse but it spooked and ran off when we came across some wolves, and they chased it instead of us. Crossed the Wyoming border, I think, yesterday. He didn't make it very far. I made a - a draggy– thing . Sled? Dragged him for a little bit. But we haven't had food, or anything, since the horse bolted with our packs. So I couldn't go any longer, and put us down in an old shed that was falling down, but it had a roof. And then he found us,” she glances up at Tommy again, curling into herself a bit.

You nod and turn to Sam. “Get him to the OR and prep for an amputation, and push antibiotics. I'll be right there.” Sam nods and pushes the gurney down the hall, disappearing behind the double doors. You turn back to Tommy and speak quietly.

“How many resources am I using on this guy? I’m gonna have to anesthetize to amputate, use blood packs, antibiotics, and pain meds, that's just to hopefully stabilize him.”

Tommy nods. “Do it. We need more hands. Even with one, he’ll be helpful. And we can train her up in somethin’. Cookin’ or sewing. Hell, she shot two guys, she might be good on patrols or runs, eventually.”

You nod and glance at the girl. “Can you find her a place for the night? Feed her something easy- broth, toast, a warm bath, not hot; she might develop some frostbite. Drink at least two cups of water, and sleep .” He nods and steps back, gesturing for the girl to get up. You call out before they leave:

“Last thing hon- what’s your dad’s name?”

She turns back, looking haunted, and swallows hard, staring at the swinging doors where he was taken. She doesn't correct you. “Ezra.”

________________

“Ezra? Eeeezra , wake up sugar. Come on! That’s it, almost. Little more. Come to me, you’re safe. No- no , don’t. Stay down. Eyes open, sweetheart, come on.”

A soft, soothing voice is luring him toward the light, but an oppressive force keeps Ezra from actually cracking his eyes open. When he tries, light blinds his swollen lids and makes them ache. He groans and waves at whoever is talking, trying to get them to leave him be.

“Sam, dim the lights a bit,” he hears the voice call out, and finally blinks an eye open. His entire body is sore but also feels weighed down and stuffed with cotton. Morphine , some lizard part of his brain supplies.

What the fuck? Where am I?

He tries to lift his right arm and nothing happens. A sharp pain lances through him and then is softened by whatever’s in his bloodstream, funneling into the itchy, ice- cold spot on the side of his neck. He struggles to sit again and feels hands pushing him back.

“Ezra, Ezra ! Stay down, you're safe. We got your girl, she’s okay. You're both safe. You’re hurt, though. Real bad. I need you to stay still. Can you lay back for me and let me see your eyes?” The sweet voice is back, and feels like silk dragging against his jagged senses. Ezra swallows against a bone-dry throat and makes a gritty sound- not words. “Here’s some water- a straw-” you prod the seam of his mouth with something squishy- rubber , he thinks, and frowns.

It is indeed water, a rubbery medical tube cut down into a straw poking out of it, and he struggles not to suck it all down before you’re already drawing away and telling him your name. “Not too fast, you’ll vomit it up. I’m the doctor here in Jackson. Your girl was found dragging you on a sled by our patrolmen, you tested negative for cordyceps so they brought you in. You’re hypothermic, and have a lot of injuries.”

“Cee?” He asks, raspy and uncoordinated. He finally fixes an eye on you, unable to open the other one, and you give him a small smile. “ Soleil ,” he says, and you huff a gentle laugh.

“Is Cee the girl? Your daughter?”

“Where she?” He asks, frowning. The action hurts his whole face, so he stops.

“She’s getting a hot meal and a shower, and hopefully some sleep. She’s okay, she’s not hurt. Just hungry and exhausted and scared. Can I prop you up just a little? Let me know if you get nauseous.” You lift the gurney on one side and prop him up maybe forty degrees when he nods. Ezra blinks around the room, watching it swirl in slow motion. There’s a bag of blood and a bag of IV fluid hanging off a rack above him, and you beside him, and another woman at the corner of the room. The aforementioned Sam , he guesses.

“I need to check your pupils. Gonna flash a light, can you follow my finger?” You cautiously rule out a concussion, though given the state of him, that’s a small comfort. “Ezra- can you remember what happened?”

He blinks at you and glances at the cup of water on the side table. You let him have another drink and take it away again. He feels nauseous. He swallows down the flood of saliva in his mouth and threads his brow together. “Slavers… took over our QZ in Bozeman ‘bout two years ago. I took Cee in when her father was killed. We worked together in the mines, he pissed off the pay clerk one day too many. She and I were running, trying to escape, and they trapped us. Those miscreants were gonna- gonna use her. Rape her. Talked about pullin’ her guts out so she couldn't get pregnant and putting her in the free use ring til she dropped. For the audacity of just tryna escape their manufactured hell. And I couldn't have that, so I told them to do what they would to me. And she- got ‘em. Somehow. Dragged me out half dead. Told her to leave me an’ run, but she wouldn't. Been… a few days, I think?”

“She said three days since you left the cabin. I've given you an antibiotic, painkillers. You just got out of surgery. Do you remember what they did to your arm?”

Ezra slits his one open eye at you and shifts, finally looking down at it. The still shock of his reaction worries you almost as much as the rest of his injuries did.

“I have to admit, I expected that.” he swallows against another roll of bile and drops his head back. “I am feeling nauseous now, soleil .”

You nod and drop him back, bringing a sick tray over in case he vomits. “I’m gonna give you another dose of pain meds and I need you to sleep , Ezra. I’ll stay here,” you tell Sam, nodding to the repurposed sofa along the wall while you push another dose into his IV port. “I’ll send one of the patrol guys over if I need a hand. Go get some sleep,” you tell her. “We can shift off tomorrow?”

“I’ll send Joel over for the night,” she says, and disappears before you can tell her no . You growl under your breath and turn back to your man on the gurney.

“You… don' like this Joel character?” Ezra says, his voice getting low and gritty again as the drugs start to pull him under. You give him a wry smile and scoff.

“It’s not that- he’s a worrier . He’ll sit out there on the porch all night with his rifle and freeze his ass off, and then I'll have two six foot tall, two hundred- fifty pound hypothermic, handome idiots to care for,” you tease, dragging a chuckle and a stilted, pained grin out of your patient.

Ezra huffs in mock offense at you. “I’d need a week of good meals to tip the scales like that anymore, chérie. Especially with the loss of– oh? Maybe eight, ten pounds’ worth of utility?” He glances back down at the tightly wrapped bundle of his amputation and sighs. “Any jobs in this town for a one- armed fella?”

“That is not what you need to be focused on right now,” you chastise. “Give yourself a few weeks. I sure we can find you something to do. We have a couple disabled folks here, you know. They pull their weight, too. It’ll be okay,” you tell him, covering him with two blankets and checking the heater in the room.

You give him your name again when he keeps calling you soleil and chérie , but it doesn't take. He must be delirious considering everything wrong with him right now. You settle back on the bench to wait for Joel to show. “If you wake up, yell at me. Do not try and get up by yourself,” you say, and Ezra nods, already mostly asleep. He finally drifts off a couple seconds later, and you tuck the blankets up closer around his neck, blocking the winter chill and still working to reheat his body. Less than five minutes later, you hear the thunk of the door shutting and move out of the recovery room into the hall.

Only one person in Jackson holds the bell when he walks in. A leftover habit of sneaking places, you assume.

“ Sunny ?” He calls, just before you push open the swinging door to the back.

“Hey,” you say, feeling awkward. “I told Sam not to get you.”

“Why?” Joel asks, frowning. You see that he feels abruptly wrong-footed and keep talking.

“I don't need a guard? I told Sam to go home, I'd call her if I need her. Guy has to sleep it off, he’s quite literally half dead.” You shake your head with a shudder. “Tommy took off with the girl; I don’t know where he put her for the night. She was ok though. Only about Ellie’s age. They broke from a slaver hold .”

Joel’s eyes drop wide and flick back toward the room you'd just come out of. “ Shit .”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “Anyway- go home. Get some sleep. Aren't you on night rounds starting this week?”

“Yeah,” he parrots back, scuffing his boot on the tile. “Don’t mind stayin’ though.”

“You can , of course. But I don't see why you’d sit here all night while I sleep when you can sleep in your own bed, not worry Ellie when she wakes up and you're gone. I’ll be back there if you decide to stay and need something.” You jerk your head back toward the hall and go back, hearing the front door shut behind you.

_______________

You wake up to someone calling your name urgently but not very loudly, and blink your eyes open. You’re confused at first as to why you're on the couch in the clinic until you remember.

Ezra is panting on the gurney, teeth gritted and trying to swallow his pained groans.

“ Shit ,” you jump up and hurry over. His entire body is tense and you can see that he’s making a concerted effort to not hold onto his surgical wound.

“ Please ,” he wheezes, and you realize the time- the morphine you have him would have worn off within the past hour.

“Shit, I'm sorry. Should’a yelled , I told you to. Hang on,” you prep a syringe and feed it into his IV port. Over the next minute, you watch as he slowly unclenches and relaxes a bit, still breathing hard, which you're sure is putting strain on his chest wound.

“Ezra, breathe with me. You gotta slow down- you're hurting the injury to your diaphragm.” His face looks worse today, you note, but the swelling is going down even if the bruising and scabbing is setting in worse. At least it looks like a face today instead of a pile of minced meat. One dark eye focuses on you and he tries to match your breathing; taking deeper, slower breaths that eventually even out. “There we go. Want a drink?”

“Yes, please,” he says, and you refill the bedside cup with cold water and plop the straw in it. He drinks half and pulls a face, dropping back to the mattress. “This nausea. Sucks almost as much– as the injuries,” he grits out, and you smile empathetically.

“You allergic to anything?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, watching you rifle through a drawer and come back with a nausea tablet in a single-serve sachet.

“Put this under your tongue. I’ll go make some broth. You need something on your stomach,” you explain and drop the tablet under his tongue. He makes a face as the acrid “berry” taste, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I hate them, too. I’ll be right back,” you dip out and pad across the hall to the little kitchen. You drop a bouillon cube into a cup and fill it with hot water from the kettle and bring it back, stirring until the cube is dissolved.

“Almost daylight. I expect your girl’s gonna come tearing through here soon, demanding to see you. Anything specific I should say, if you're asleep?” You tip the broth into him slowly and he swallows it with a grateful hum.

“Prepare her for the amputation, I suppose. Not much else to say, is there? I suppose we’ll be directed to living quarters once I'm released from your care, chérie?”

You nod. “Yeah, I'm sure Maria and Tommy are already prepping a place for you two. Depends on where they put her last night.”

“ Cee ,” Ezra says, drinking the last of the soup. “Her name is Cee.”

“ Cee , then. I’ll keep an eye out for her. You go back to sleep.”

Ezra blinks his one working eye at you and lays his head back again, sighing deep. “Thank you, soleil ,” he says, quietly, and you nod.

“No problem. I mean it,” you say when he scowls. “You had a hard time up til now, sounds like. But Jackson is safe. Actually safe. You’ll see,” you smile at him, and he nods off with that final image behind his eyes.

Expecting the girl to show now that it’s daylight, you silently open the door and think about sitting in the waiting room out front. When you step thru the swinging door that divides the comfortable waiting space and the sterility of the clinic rooms, Joel startles awake from his slump along a row of chairs and reaches for the butt of a rifle that isn't there. You stop and blink at him, genuinely surprised.

“Thought you went home?”

He clears his throat and stands up, knees and back cracking as he stretches and straightens. “ Nnngmph . I started to. Then I decided not to.”

“Alright. You ok? Need some ice, old man?” You tease, noticing his wince when he stretches. He scowls at you but there's a smile tugging at his mouth.

“ No . You worry ‘bout your – patient. I’m fine.”

“Technically anyone in Jackson is my patient, as the only doctor,” you say slyly. “Can't get past my perfect bedside manner that easily, Miller.”

“Hmmmph,” Joel comments, wrapping you in a warm hug as he yawns hugely. “I think I experience your bedside manner often enough, sweetheart. But I can’t complain,” he taunts, and you pinch his side, making him chuckle.

The sound of shoes pounding up the porch outside makes you straighten away from Joel’s embrace to glance out the window behind his breadth. “Ah, she’s here.”

Cee bursts through the door with Marnie, the older kids’ teacher, on her heels, calling her back.

“Where is he?” Cee pants, wrenching away from Marnie’s hand when the older woman reaches for her arm.

“Good morning, Cee. Marnie, it’s okay. I expected her this morning.” You turn to Cee, but she’s frowning mightily at Joel, looking him up and down suspiciously. He lifts a brow at her through that permanent frown that everyone except Ellie sees, no longer intimidated by teen girls since re-obtaining one of his own. He scowls back at her, unimpressed, and she flicks her eyes to you.

“Did he make it?” The steadiness in her voice is only betrayed by her lower lip trembling. You nod and lead her back. Marnie throws her hands up with a huff and leaves, stomping off down the snowy porch.

“They plant you with her last night?” You ask, leading Cee through the back. She rolls her eyes and nods.

“Kind of a bitch, isn't she?” You snort and nod at her remark.

“She’s certainly a character. She handles the teens for a reason, though. Strict as hell, doesn't take their shit.” You open the last door and notice that Joel is hovering at the entrance to the hall.

“Gonna go check on Ellie,” he says, eyes tripping over Cee when you both look back at him.

You speak up; “Okay. Tell her I said hi. And tell your brother he's a twat for sending a new kid to stay with Marnie of all people! She’d have gotten a better welcome staying with you and Ellie. Get some actual sleep before your patrol!” He nods, waving a disparaging hand over his shoulder as he walks out. You turn back to Cee.

“I had to remove his injured arm, so expect that. He’s stable, I have him on antibiotics and a blood pack to fight the infection that started up from his wounds. He’s knocked out on pain meds right now. Okay? Any questions?”

Cee shakes her head and tips her brow at the door. “Let's go.”

You open the door and lead her in, watching as she stands at the foot of the gurney and stares at Ezra. She roves over his pulpy face, the missing arm and bandages, the line of red that has managed to seep through the dressing on his chest. You move to replace it, letting her take him in. Eventually she sits, and does end up asking you a few questions. She pets the tuft of blonde at his temple and watches you move around the space. You let them be quiet and alone for a while, listening to Ezra’s wheezing breaths as he sleeps off the meds and you clear up some old-school paperwork files of your various patients at the front desk.

As the day waxes and wanes, you get a man from patrol in for a sprained ankle from landing wrong off his horse onto an icy patch, and one woman in for a pregnancy checkup. The midwife Janet and her trainee Silvia are assisting with a birth on the other side of town, so you check the woman’s vitals and, when everything clears, tell her to come back in a couple days to see Janet properly.

Cee calls you from the hall, urgently, a few times. Once, Ezra is pale and shaking, trying to struggle to a sit and he’s burning up. You cover him in cool wraps and lay an ice pack on his forehead and stomach, bringing his temp down fast. You up the dose of antibiotics and hope for the best, without much to tell you what exactly is ailing him from the inside. Blood samples only go so far with just a microscope to test on.

The second time, he complains about the catheter and asks to get up and use the toilet. You send Cee out to the waiting room and remove it, assisting him in getting up and aiming at the bowl with his off hand, which he blushes at but forces himself to remember you are a medical professional . He needs to get up and walk anyway, and you're glad he feels up to it. You let her back in when he’s back in bed and tell her to call you if he asks to get up again.

Tommy shows up in the late afternoon, telling you and Cee that they’ve set up one of the houses on your street, which makes sense- yours is the one filling with new folks now. It's one of the last empty stretches. “House 407,” he hands Cee the keys and glances at Ezra in the bed. Sam chimes in the door, ready to take over for the night, and you’re grateful.

“I’ll show you the house, if you want?” You offer, expecting the girl to turn it down. She stares at Ezra for a long moment and nods.

“Can I come back, after checking it out?”

You nod, smiling. “Let me tell Sam what’s up and we can go.”

“How long have you been here?” Cee asks, plodding through the snow with you.

“Ah, about two years? Not long. Before me they had an old nurse, and she passed about eight months ago now. I was a medic for FEDRA; defected when they started bombing the rebelling QZs about eight years ago. I hopped around for a while, stayed in the wild with a small group for a year. They got killed when we ran afoul of a gas station filled with clickers. Came here in the winter, like you two. Sucks ,” you chuckle, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

“Who’s in charge? Like, is there a caste system?” She asks, looking around at the houses. They're all leftover suburban developments, what would have been solidly middle class Before; nothing terribly classist, but some are decidedly larger or fancier than others on some streets. They all have water and electricity and keep the infected out, and that’s what matters anymore. You say as much, and Cee nods.

“Maria and her husband, Tommy - the guy who found you- they sort of run everything. But it’s a commune - the point is we all have a say, we all share food, essentials, and medicine, and barter goods or skills. We all pull weight, rotate patrols and jobs. Some of us are more specialized, like me, being the doc. But I still have patrol duty, same as anyone.”

“What do you do when you're not saving people or setting twisted ankles or on patrol?”

You pause briefly, thinking of Joel. You huff and shrug. “I like to read.”

“Do you have books here!?”

You chuckle, getting the feel of the young teen quickly. She’s hardy, but still a kid . She reminds you a bit of Ellie, though maybe not as feral. “We have a library, yes. And you’ll go to school when you're both well enough. I expect Ezra can go home in a few days, if he's got someone there to help him take care of some things.”

“Like getting around and cleaning it and stuff?”

“Yeah, and getting used to losing his dominant hand. He might struggle to do a lot of things at first. He’ll feel like his arm is there, sometimes, and reach for things, so he might drop stuff or get frustrated easily. Don't take it personally,” you lean in and stage-whisper, and she nods sagely.

You direct her to turn left on Rancher Street and up a pathway toward number 407.

Your own house is across the street and down two, beside the fenced-off graveyard, which you point out to her.

“My neighbor, Joel, that big grumpy guy who was at the clinic earlier? He's got a girl about your age. Ellie. She’s– well maybe about seventeen now? Ish? How old are you?”

“I’ll be seventeen next month,” she says, glancing across at the houses where you pointed.

You nod and squint at her as she keys into the house and peers around in the dark. “We got electricity, hon,” you remind her gently and snap the lights on and her mouth drops open.

“All this is just ours? We don't have to share?”

“Not a bit. It’s yours. If it's like the rest of the houses in this neighborhood, it's got three rooms and two bathrooms- one in the hall upstairs, between the two smaller rooms, and one in the big bedroom. Tommy and Maria will have fitted you out with clothes, beds and blankets, TP, probably tampons or a cup, soap... Check the rooms and see, I'll wait.”

Cee stops with a foot above a tread and glances back at you. She looks hesitantly up at the yawning darkness at the top of the stairs. “I can come up, if you don't want to go alone?” When she nods, you follow.

She ducks into both of the smaller rooms and investigates the bathroom, which indeed has a stack of toilet paper and a diva cup and instructions on the counter with a bar of soap and a little pot of natural deodorant. “Aw, you got green !” You say, and grin when she frowns at you.

“We make the soap here, in one of the shops. The green one smells best,” you hand it to her and she sniffs it, smiling.

“I don't remember the last time we had soap. Or a hot bath. Ezra’s gonna flip .” She sets the bar down and goes into the larger of the two small bedrooms, sitting on the bed to bounce it. You smile at her exploring the room all over from the hall.

“Wanna see if they put clothes in here for your dad?”

“It’s just Ezra. He and my father dug in the mines but they hated one another. He took me in a couple years ago when the clerk and his goons killed my dad at the mine’s pay table. He had tried to barter his ration chit for more. Ezra knew if he didn't squirrel me away they’d put me in the free use ring with the other orphan girls. I’m sure he thought I'd be useful to him, at least at first.”

You blink at her deadpan and incredibly dark explanation and clear your throat. “ Ezra , then. They probably left a change of clothes for him. Can’t send him home in the snow in his civvies.”

“Do you care to check? I’d actually really like a shower and to change,” she grimaces down at her bloody clothes that Marnie appears to have simply dried and given back to her. Never one for going the extra mile, dear Marnie.

“Sure thing,” you say, and go out across the hall to check.

Sure enough, whoever had stocked the house had left a stack of three flannels, three tee shirts, a canvas and wool-lined contrast coat, a neat pyramid of socks and boxers, two pair of jeans, sleep clothes, and a set of re-soled boots on the bed. The bathroom in the big bedroom has another stack of matching toiletries. You pile up enough to make an outfit and take it downstairs, and wait on the little sofa.

Cee stirs you awake as she plummets down the stairs, eyes wide. You startle, unaware that you had nodded off. “Oh. I thought you’d left,” she says, and visibly steels herself. “Thank you for staying,” she says almost shyly.

“It's okay kid. I know you're not settled. It’s still overwhelming. It’ll take some adjusting. Where are you sleeping tonight?”

She pauses, glancing back up the darkened stairs and then out the window. “Can I stay at the clinic?”

You shrug. “Just tell Sam to let you have the sofa, she can use another bed. Yell at her if Ezra needs something.”

“Okay!” She agrees and shoves her boots back on. You hand her the bag of Ezra’s clothes and tell her the way back.

“Just follow the road to the end and turn left at the street sign. Clinic’s on the right, three doors from the end. Tell Sam I said you could stay til Ezra is released.” You nod at her and she bites her lip.

“Thank you.”

You nod again. “You're welcome , Cee. Go on, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You watch Cee lock up and plod across the road and down til she is out of sight, and go across to your own house. As you stomp the snow off your boots on the porch, Joel opens his door and leans on the frame.

“Jeez, girl. You just gettin’ home?”

“Yeah, just showed the girl their house and sent her back off to stay with her dad. I need to sleep for like, a week ,” you scoff, kicking your boots off into the tray by the door. “You ain't gone on patrol yet?”

Joel hums and looks you up and down, assessing. His deep seated need to care for and simultaneous desire to not care at all is a trait you find both adorable and grating. “Traded this week off; that Tyler kid wants to be home with his wife during the day. She had their kid this mornin’.”

“Ah, right. You wanting to sleep over?” You ask, and he gives you a half smile.

“You just said you needed sleep,” he teases, shooting you that tilted smirk. “Go on,” he waves at you batting your lashes playfully in answer, and you go inside giggling, leaving the door unlocked.

A moment later, probably after leaving Ellie a note on his whereabouts, Joel stomps through the door and leaves his snow-packed boots in the tray with yours after you give him an unimpressed brow at the puddles forming on your floor.

“We just sleepin’ or am I putting you to sleep?” he asks, shucking his coat.

“I’m taking a shower and going to sleep. If you facilitate either of those ends, that’s fine,” you shrug, smiling, already moving to the bathroom under the stairs.

Joel ends up eating your pussy in the shower til you shake apart, then ruts between your soapy thighs until he splashes come on the wall. After rinsing you down, he washes your hair and puts you to bed, spooning up tight behind you to keep the warmth in while you sleep.

The last thought you have before drifting off is that the soft swell of his belly, padded out over the last year or so with a more comfortable life and actual meals in Jackson, is perfectly fitted to the small of your back, and the feeling might just be your favorite part about relaxing anywhere with him.

_______________

You wake up before dawn sprawled across his wide chest, listening to his heavy, even breaths. It would be nice to wake up every day, just like this. But you know if you suggest it, he’ll put you back at arm’s length. So you take what you can get.

You fall back asleep quickly, and wake a few hours later to Joel sitting on the edge of the bed, putting his socks on. The room is much brighter; definitely proper morning now. You stretch and yawn, brushing your fingertips along his hip, and he turns.

“Mornin’, sunshine. You headed back to the clinic?”

“Hmm,” you sigh, stretching. “Soon, yeah. Eat somethin’ and head over, let Sam go home.”

Joel nods and leans down, kisses you on your forehead, then your mouth. “I’ll see you later, then.”

You nod, and he goes. You listen for the door to close downstairs and sigh, stretching a kink out of your shoulder. You wonder idly after Cee, if Ezra made it another night, and decide to eat your toast with sunbutter on your walk across town.

When you get in, you're surprised and pleased to see Cee walking around the waiting area with a dressed and mussed Ezra, his arm slung across her shoulders for support.

“There’s my favorite patient,” you grin, praising his progress. You send Sam home and settle in to wait for anyone to come by. When you finally drop into the rolling chair behind the counter, Cee has sat him down in a wheelchair and parked him nearby. “How you feeling today?”

“I am upright and alive, soleil , neither of which is what I expected to be two days ago. I have already thanked Cee for her part in that, now I must thank you .” he squints one pretty dark eye, the other still puffy and swollen nearly shut, in an approximation of a smile and you can’t help smiling back.

“I told you no problem . You’re welcome . Leave it be,” you sigh, dragging out his chart. Sam had left notes for the overnight, and you verify them with him, mostly to test his memory. He is able to corroborate most of them, though he peers over at Cee twice when he can’t recall a detail.

After making sure he was settled again, Cee had gone back to their home and managed a nap, but a couple hours later he’s up and moving around again, under your watchful eye, and she's coming back up the walkway now. You wonder if she’ll go to the mess hall and bring back lunch. Biting your lip, you decide to try.

“Up for something more than broth today?” You ask Ezra, and he perks up.

“If my doctor says I am able , then I am eager for any rations, soleil .”

You give him a wide grin and a wink. “I can do better than rations , pretty boy. One sec.” he laughs as you hear Cee jingle into the waiting area and you call out to catch her before she takes her coat off.

“Cee! Would you mind getting us all some lunch, hon? Mess hall is across the road, there. Big building.”

She goes, somewhat shy but determined, and brings back wrapped sandwiches and containers of a thick, creamy soup, and herbal tea. Ezra’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the spread.

“My word. You are certain I didn't die?”

You snort, your teeth buried in your sandwich, and shake your head. “Nope. I know the food’s overwhelming at first. ‘specially coming from the road or the QZs.”

You advise him to eat slowly to make sure he can keep it down, and he struggles not to swallow it all whole, working to savor every bite. Having to scoop with his left hand slows him down a good bit. You match his pace, which he notices only after several minutes of waffling with the spoon.

“What are you reading there, soleil ?” He asks later, sleepy and full and on a fresh round of painkillers (though you're already weaning him off, he seems to have a low pain threshold).

You hum and turn your three- inch- thick paperback to face him. “Just a historical fiction I picked up. We have a little library, but if you don't give everything a chance, you’ll read through everything too fast,” you scoff. “I prefer the ribald romances and fantasy books, personally, but these are sometimes real gems.”

Ezra snorts and squints at the book. “ Parade’s End, ” he murmurs and frowns. “What’s it about?”

“One’s duty to society and family versus personal preference, really. It’s set during the first world war. The main character is an aristo in a loveless marriage because he and his wife constantly miscommunicate in an attempt to one-up the other. He falls in love with a young suffragette but won't let himself be with her. His wife has a few affairs and his name is sullied in high society by her jilted lover bouncing his check at the bank, so he goes to war to avoid her and the situation. When he comes home he realizes that he is trying to remain old fashioned in a world that is already changed, and living like that only serves to make him unhappy, so he decides to separate from his wife, but he won’t divorce her because of their son. He sends her to live at his family estate in wealth, but makes sure she is unhappy with it. And he lives happily in sin with his suffragette.”

Ezra grins at your summary and lolls his head back on the pillows. “Read some to me? I will probably fall asleep. But I'd appreciate it, chérie . I haven't been able to indulge in a tale in a very long time.”

You scoot the chair closer and prop your feet on the support racking under his gurney, and read in a measured, soothing voice, glancing up every so often to see your patient getting more and more sleepy. Finally, he nods off, and you watch him for a few moments. Cee is snoozing hard on the little couch, and otherwise the room is quiet aside from the susurrus of the space heater whirring, keeping out the freezing temps outside. You go back to your book, one ear trained for the door to jingle.

Three days later, at dusk, Joel appears on your porch to walk you to the clinic and Ellie to her friend Dina’s before he goes on patrol for the night shift. Ellie is by his side, rattling excitedly about a comic one of her school mates had let her read during free time that day. “And she has the last one too ! I’ll get the whole arc and don’t have to make it up myself!”

You catch him through your door’s glass pane as you put your coat on, watching her with that soft half smile on his face, and it makes your own appear.

Early the next morning, Ezra is ready to be sent home; he’s finally weaned fully off the morphine and onto regular pain management for the healing wound on his arm. His diaphragm sounds good, and you had removed the drainage ports in his stump overnight so he could sleep it off and you could monitor it closely until morning. You are putting on your coat, trading off shifts with Sam who just arrived, and giving Cee detailed instructions on how to care for him and the surgery site, what to do if common issues arise, and strict orders for no weight lifting and lots of water and rest.

Ellie’s on your clinic porch when you open the door and usher Ezra and Cee out into the cold. She stuffs her notebook back in her bag, jumps up, and waits by the stairs while you close up and finish talking to them.

“Hey Ellie,” you greet with a grin. Her and Cee eye one another speculatively and she comes to your other side, ready to walk you home. “This is Cee, and Ezra. They came in last week,” you introduce them. “Ellie is Joel’s kid,” you tell them, leaving it at that. You know Ezra and Cee are in a similar situation.

Ellie takes your elbow and you keep pace with Cee and Ezra, walking across as a clump to get dinner at the mess hall before taking them to their house. Cee and Ellie trade small, stilted words across the table, mostly opening up after they find out one another's explosive imagination and love for reading sci-fi.

You grin conspiratorially at Ezra over bowls of soup and he watches them with a fond smile, happy to see Cee coming out of her shell with another kid.

When you leave the mess hall, Ellie and Cee are still animatedly chatting, discovering a mutual love for a space series they had both read bits and pieces of. If one has a knowledge gap, the other can usually fill it, and together they piecemeal the series.

Ezra walks close to you, minding his footing with his precarious balance in the packed and somewhat slippery snow. “I am glad there are kids her age here. In the– hmm. Where we came from, most of her peers were sold off to the mines, or the girls were being abused. About the only useful thing her asshole daddy did was keep her from that. She hasn't had much peer interaction in a few years.”

You hum and nod. “Ellie’s warmed up a good bit. She’s probably a good one for Cee to latch onto, honestly. Her and her old man were just about feral when they got here.”

“ Feral ?” Ezra chuffs, carefully skirting a sheet of ice. You take his elbow and lead on.

“Hmm. Like a couple of cats being brought inside and shown love for the first time,” you grin. “They’d been on the road a long time, coming from Boston mostly on foot. Lots of trouble, being exposed like that. They didn't take kindly to a lot of intervention at first, but I think they came around well enough in the end. Joel’s doing well, Ellie's making friends. Giving folks safety and time makes them come around, usually.”

“Joel. He's come by, yes? The name is familiar, though I admit I haven't been terribly lucid in the last week.”

“Yeah, he was there the first night. I’m their neighbor; you’re actually across the street from us. You’ll see soon, we’re almost there.” (You don't say the rest- that you and Joel have been fucking and sleeping over and kissing and having weekly dinners with Ellie for nearly a year, but if anyone lays ownership he backs away, closes off, and it takes weeks for him to lower his hackles and come back around).

“He’s real handy, used to be a contractor, Before. If you need something done on the house, I suggest coming across and asking there first,” you add, nodding at your house and Joel's. You point them out, the brown of his and your own, next door. “Or his brother, Tommy. That's the guy that found you and Cee on patrol.”

Ezra makes an affirmative grunt and squints at the houses. “We are being watched , soleil ,” he chuckles, and you glance over to see a figure in the early morning fog, thrown into shadow by the light coming through the window behind him. Joel is back from his shift and is standing on his porch, watching you and Ellie walk the newcomers to their house.

“He’s a little overprotective,” you roll your eyes and nod.

“You and Cee are there,” you point across and angle the both of you toward the deep green two-story where the girls are leading.

Ezra’s mouth hangs open while he takes it in, just as baffled and overwhelmed as Cee was a few days ago. “This is all ours? Or do we share with another family?”

You smile, remembering Cee’s similar words a few days ago. “No, it’s yours and hers. We haven't had to start sharing homes yet; and we still have a whole road of empties, and most of Rancher Street is still empty, save for our occupied lots and the graves, so hopefully it will be a while . And hopefully if we’re that big, by then we can build more.”

Cee unlocks the door and you all file in. The girls keep talking and you watch Ezra poke around the space while you wait on Ellie. Eventually, you cock an eyebrow at her and she drops her chin.

“Uh, anyway. I’m across in the brown house if you want to read any of what I have. Just tell Joel you’re looking for me- he looks way meaner than he is. Promise,” she laughs, winking at you. You nod at Cee in agreement and she breaks into a smile. “I’m turning the garage into my room, so hopefully by the time the weather’s warm you can just come back there.”

“Okay.”

“And come get me next door to them if you need help with anything or are having complications. Otherwise I'm mostly at the clinic. If I don't see you in two days for a checkup, I'll come find you,” you level a finger at Ezra and he chuckles weakly.

“I am not in the habit of spurning women, soleil . I’ll see you then.”

You and Ellie leave, shutting the door firmly behind you, and she knocks her shoulder into yours.

“They’re both fuckin’ cute ,” she says slyly, and breaks into giggles when you roll your eyes at her.

“Don't you like Dina ?” you fake a retch and she bends to throw a handful of snow at your head.

“Fuck you dude! She’s banging that stupid boy anyway. Gonna end up in your clinic soon, I'm sure. Idiots. I backed off.”

“ Eew . Was he there last night?” You ask, side-eyeing her slumped shoulders.

“Ugh. Yeah.”

Ah , you think. Bingo . “ That's why you were there so early, making out like Joel sent you to walk me home. You were escaping ,” you poke her in the ribs and she breaks into a grin again, laughing.

“Yeah, I was. Sucks being the third wheel.”

“I agree,” you sigh, stopping at the gate to Joel’s yard. He is still on the porch and watches Ellie walk up. He asks her something quietly, then snaps his gaze back to you. He nods at her and she disappears into the house with a little wave. He comes down the stairs to the gate and frowns at the green house across the way.

“Got your patient settled in?”

You hum, not glancing back. He’s thrumming with some sort of energy- jealousy or territorial puffing- up, your gut says, and you make a concerted effort not to ask or frown back. “Yep, I think he’s made it past the worst of it. Ellie liked Cee a lot, seems like she might have a new friend. That’s always good. The new ones tend to struggle- you two know that as well as anyone else here.”

“She said you had to cut that guy’s arm off?”

You squint up at him and scowl. “I'm not discussing a patient with the likes of you, Miller. But you’ll see soon enough he is indeed missing an arm, and he wasn't when Tommy dragged him in.”

Joel blinks down at you, his frown deepening, before he realizes you're teasing him and it softens again.

“Jesus, girl.” He wraps a wide hand around the back of your neck and guides you to your door, boots scuffing in the crunchy snow.

“Somethin’ happen today?” You ask, unlocking your door. You kick your boots off but he stands on the welcome mat, dripping. Not staying, then. Maybe .

“Nah, just. One of the assholes on patrol said he looked like me.”

You scoff and shake your head. “Maybe severely malnourished and ten or more years younger, sure. Maybe in a different life, even. He’s your height and has dark hair and eyes, built like an upside-down pyramid. No doubt with some square meals he’ll be a brick shithouse like you,” you chuckle. “That's about it. He's from Louisiana, though. Your dad go ‘cross the border and start sowin’ seed in Cajun country when you were a kid?” You giggle, blocking a wide palm when he goes to grab you.

“You stayin’ for breakfast? I've had a soup on all night. could go get your kid.”

“Nah, I cooked. She’s prob’ly over there eatin’ more than her half,” Joel grimaces, looking at the wall like he can see through it into his house, into Ellie’s mind.

Your smile doesn't quite meet your eyes. It's like reopening the scarred wound in his side.

“Alright.”

Joel seems to take it as dismissal (or he was looking for a way to leave, even though he’s the one who came over), and dips his chin at you before ducking back outside and around the picket fence to his own house. You rub your eyes with the heels of your hands and sigh.

Shower, food, bed. Check on your patients. Repeat.

You shuck your coat and beanie and go upstairs, eager to strip off and eat and crash. Bed sounds incredible, even without your preferred space heater of a… Friend . The good news is, with Ezra finally discharged, no one has to sit on- call at the clinic overnight. If someone needs you, they’ll come knocking.

You shower, dress in warm lounge clothes, eat your soup, box the rest for the week’s meals, and crash face-first into your bed within an hour of getting home.

_______________

Joel had already been home when you and Ellie went past, leading the newcomers to their allotted house. You had your elbow looped in the guy’s, Ellie and the girl were ahead, grinning and talking animatedly about something- probably a book, if he knew Ellie at all.

You had a serene smile on your face when looking at him , answering a question and carefully minding the paths in the snow for your patient, and Joel’s heart had clenched up tight. Some ugly part of him walled up, seeing both of you happy and at ease, with himself nowhere in the frame. He pressed his molars together and drew himself up, turning away so he didn't have to watch as you followed them inside their new home and shut the door.

Ellie had carefully and methodically (with all the untrained, blunt force of a hapless teenager) sanded down all the fractured edges he had over their trek across the country and back, and his increasing terror at the loss of control over himself or his situation was only doubling- down the closer he got to you . You’re another person to look out for, who would happily tie their fate to his own; your pain, his pain. Your happiness; his. Ellie has already pulled away from him, sensing his aversion to talking about Colorado and possibly seeing straight through his ocean of lies surrounding the trip, of their abrupt exit.

He isn't sure his heart can take another breach.

He stands in the doorway, his back to you and Ellie in Ezra’s house, and thinks about drawing back from you. Putting the walls up that you’ve come to expect every so often. But then he thinks of the disappointment he will see in your face when he does, and it hurts just as bad as the jealousy does. He tries to make himself not care, but he’s only fooling himself.

He doesn't even know if you like this new guy.

You could just actually be caring for a newly-disabled patient.

You could just pity the guy.

He’ll wait. But he’s not sleeping the day away in your bed. It's the weekend and Ellie is out of school and working on her latest project, moving into the garage and away from him. He’ll nap on the sofa in case she needs him to haul or build or fix something, and train his good ear on her while he tries to rest.

Overnight rounds were a bitch on his joints and back. He’d much rather lay in bed with you and leave Ellie to her own devices; not much trouble she could get in, in Jackson. But that somehow feels like crossing a line, so he stays back and away from it.

He’d rather pull back before you can have the chance.

He’s not sure his heart can take another failure.

-----------------------------🍄-------------------------

Link to part 2

If you finshed, please like and/or comment! if you liked it, please comment and/or reblog to spread the views! Thank you so much for enjoying, stay tuned for parts 2 and 3!

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fantasticdragonglitter · 1 year

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#lumax #elumax #elmax #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #stranger things #hopclair #el hopper #mayhopclair #poly relationship #poly dynamics #they got 3 three moods

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yendts · 1 year

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it’s what sokka deserves

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jagibee · 6 months

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Call Me Luna, I’ll Do It For My Pack Now

You knew there was a fair chance of being rejected. You usually wouldn’t even have considered submitting your resume, you weren’t a fan of big companies and especially not ones who were just starting out with their omegan caretaker programs. You preferred it when people had their shit together. But this was JYP Entertainment. You had to at least try, even just to say you did.

You weren’t supposed to be accepted.

Y/N’s journey from being an experienced caretaker trying something new to becoming her assigned band’s pack Luna.

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

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the-bar-sinister · 6 days

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One of my favorite things about polyamory fic is that, because a character is having different needs filled by different partners (and serving different needs of different partners), you get to see many aspects of their character that might not come up if they were locked into a singular relationship dynamic. Thus you end up seeing a more multi-dimensional and fleshed out view of the character.

#writeblr #writblr #polyamory #poly ship #shipping #shipping dynamics #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #💻🔪

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soaps-mohawk · 2 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 10: Treat Me Gently

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

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

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

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

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

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

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

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

“What are you wearing?” Gaz asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They are going to be your pack soon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They are your pack after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About what?” He asks.

“Price and I.” You say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d like to think not,” He says.

But...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that you want to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t last very long.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You did that.

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

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

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

You nod, swallowing thickly.

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

You nod again. “Yes, alpha.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t want to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, alpha.” You whimper.

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

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

Not just someone else, with your alpha.

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

Perhaps it was the training he spoke about earlier.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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