#poly: the universe crumbles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soaps-mohawk · 1 year ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

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*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head.

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.”

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze.

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks.

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.”

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast.

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes.

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.”

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you.

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now.

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence.

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you.

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right.

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress.

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect.

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made.

Nest.

You’re nesting again.

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-”

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.”

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize.

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs.

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances.

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher.

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs.

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin.

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs.

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache.

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers.

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in.

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders.

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress.

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap.

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his.

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words.

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.”

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.”

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself.

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea.

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you.

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs.

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans.

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even.

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked.

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you.

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega.

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.”

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon.

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move.

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you.

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock.

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand.

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?”

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!”

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm.

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices.

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp.

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac.

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to?

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything.

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay.

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door.

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted.

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head.

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him.

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision.

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet.

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.”

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.”

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs.

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back.

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment.

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.”

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity.

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.”

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.”

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.”

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur.

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.”

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay.

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep.

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you.

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still.

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would.

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images.

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly.

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.”

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed.

“What are you going to get?” You ask.

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply.

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!”

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest.

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask.

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours.

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all.

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all.

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you.

“You’re thinking too much again.”

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs.

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side.

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you.

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you.

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.”

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.”

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves.

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours.

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you.

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips.

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room.

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin.

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core.

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you.

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!”

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot.

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.”

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear.

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall.

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you.

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise.

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room.

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired.

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious.

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment.

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side.

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads.

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames.

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass.

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed.

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again.

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower.

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again.

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training.

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head.

He didn’t change his shirt.

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you.

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look.

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening.

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile.

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face.

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.”

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.”

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you.

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.”

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him.

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?”

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork.

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray.

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete.

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor?

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do.

But he didn’t.

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s.

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he.

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do.

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s.

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship.

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him.

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes.

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.”

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway.

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air.

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.”

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?”

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete.

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.”

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM.

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.”

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room.

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass.

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you.

Fuck this is going to be a long training session.

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either.

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp.

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.”

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.”

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you.

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal.

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been.

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.”

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat.

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side.

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?”

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings.

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!”

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache.

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth.

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!”

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release.

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit.

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief.

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud.

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to.

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly.

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.”

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance.

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him.

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you.

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you.

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.”

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise.

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.”

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.”

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot.

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand.

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room.

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs.

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body.

And that was only with his fingers.

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin.

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet.

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again.

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear.

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.”

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.”

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much.

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive.

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.”

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.”

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.”

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds.

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door.

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?”

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another.

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you.

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism.

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.”

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.”

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe.

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book.

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.”

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit.

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest.

“Yes, sir.” You respond.

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.”

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up.

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes.

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it.

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire.

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth.

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched.

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause.

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why.

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him.

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.”

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists.

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.”

“What if I can’t stop?”

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.”

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow.

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before.

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin.

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice.

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.”

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh.

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor.

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits.

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.”

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest.

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple.

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple.

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps.

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head.

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass.

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts.

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do.

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?”

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed.

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you.

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips.

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him.

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her.

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows.

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel.

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea.

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud.

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.”

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water.

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you.

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind.

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door.

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up.

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues.

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you.

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot.

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed.

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again.

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor.

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach.

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way.

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment.

You hadn't even been naked then.

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are.

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight.

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand.

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier.

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back.

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks.

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.”

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone.

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him.

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.”

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in.

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.”

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot.

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going.

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release.

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in.

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.”

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long.

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.”

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock.

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room.

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week.

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal.

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood.

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.”

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge.

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm.

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.”

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress.

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts.

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure.

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper.

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt.

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy.

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass.

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted.

He’s not Simon anymore.

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out.

“Alpha!”

NEXT ->

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

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jinnie-ret · 9 months ago

Text

cover me

poly!stray kids x fem reader

genre: angst, fluff at the end

content warnings: stress from uni/work

word count: 1.5k

summary: money, work, school. it was only a matter of time before the boys would see her crumble, and be there to pick up the pieces

requested: @straykidsnerd255

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Every time she tried to take one step forward, something would ultimately knock her back twice as far. Finally having a very generously paid job as an intern at a big company was serving her well, yet with the return of going back to university, finding a work-school balance was becoming difficult.

Truly, that was the hardest thing. She had great people around her, those being her uni friends or her loving boyfriends, the renowned Kpop band, Stray Kids. The way they cared for her and each other with such strong morals and support meant that surely it would be easy to confide in them.

Not always, especially in this case.

Other times she would be thankful for the fact that her partners all had a longer practice at the company, not to their own detriment of course, but because it gave her more time to get herself together and paint on a calm picture of 'I'm definitely not struggling right now and on the brink of my second breakdown of the day'.

However, this time she really needed them. The stress had amounted to such a level that she felt it right through to her bones, and so she found herself crying over the smallest things, which in turn let out the release of her biggest pain.

"Stupid shoes, why aren't they organised, there's too many," she sniffled, sat on her knees by the front door as she began to cry at shoes. Yes, shoes. Her boyfriends' shoes to be specific. She would have thought at least Seungmin would have berated the others for their lack of organisation at this point but even his were out of place.

"They didn't even match them back up," she cried, and more tears spilled out, "oh, why am I even crying right now?"

Sometimes being in such a state meant that it was hard to understand your own feelings, your thoughts far too occupied with the wants of other people to be able to manage the basic needs of your own.

Eventually she gave up on the shoes and wiped her tears, walking slowly over to the sofa and letting her body fall into it with a soft thump. She tugged a soft velvety blanket over herself, one that Felix probably picked out due to it's plush exterior, and instinctively cocooned herself. Her heart felt heavy, her eyes hot and burning as the tears kept falling. All it took was a reminder on her phone for a work assignment, and a uni assignment, to trigger a sob to catch her throat.

"Too much," she sobbed to herself, trying to muffle the sounds even though there was no one else to hear them, "it's too much."

She was wrong. Not about her feelings, gosh, no, but the fact that she thought she was alone.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Hyunjin was crouched down right in front of her trembling form, almost hidden if it wasn't for the blanketed lump that had been shaking so much it couldn't have been natural.

His hand brushed her hair back and his thumb rubbed under her eyes, catching the tears that seemed to keep appearing. Hyunjin watched on in deep concern, just like their other boyfriends did the more they realised something was wrong.

"What? When, when did you get back?" she gulped down her sobs, or attempted to, even though her words still came out messily. She sat up, the blanket falling off her shoulders and resting around her hips.

"Don't worry about that, love. Just tell us what's going on, yeah? What's wrong?" Chan held her against him immediately, taking a seat ñext to her. The only time his arm that was wrapped around her moved away, was to let Jeongin lift the blanket back up to keep her warm.

"I don't know," she sniffed indignantly, coughing lightly through her cries when she tried to clear her throat. Her arm pressed against the lower half of her face.

"You're getting yourself in a state now, come on, move your arm, you know you don't have to hold back in front of us," Seungmin sighed sadly, seeing his girlfriend so stressed. He pulled her arm towards her lap which he was sat in front of, holding her hand with one of his own and the other rubbing her knee.

"Thanks," she said sarcastically at first, until hearing the rest of what he had to say and tilting her head up to the ceiling to blink away the rest of her tears.

Chan pressed a kiss against her forehead, and everyone was around her to offer comfort, Felix and Changbin in particular wanting to jump out of their seats on the adjacent sofa to take all the pain away.

"What's got you to upset, jagi?" Jisung pouted, his own eyes glistening as he saw how upset you were.

"It's stupid, really," she began, rubbing at her eyes roughly, Hyunjin subsequently tutting at her and pulling her other hand away that Seungmin wasn't occupying.

"We're not doing that, jagi," Minho shook his head, brows furrowed, looking down at the floor with his hands folded together, "if it's upset you, it's not stupid."

"Exactly, please just tell us, you know we just want to help, that's all," Felix quickly pitched in, face crumpled sadly much like your own.

"There's just too much going on really. You know? Like, oh-" she had to cut herself off when her voice cracked with emotion again.

"You're ok, take your time," Jeongin gave a small smile and nod to reassure her.

"We're listening, baby," Changbin's raspy voice rung out.

"I've got a good job right? Like, it pays so well, but now with going back to uni it's just like I don't have time for anything. I-i'm having to squeeze in hours where I don't have them because my boss won't help me work around my timetable," she explained, the clashing of two parts of her life and time issues being what was clearly causing so much turmoil.

"I'm sorry, darling," Chan tugged her closer to him, a frown on his face.

"Don't be sorry, not your fault, is it? I'm just so tired, I'm exhausted," she admitted, pressing her lips together and taking a deep breath in order to not cry again.

"We'll help you figure this out, ok?" Hyunjin leant his head against her shoulder.

"Ok, ok," she let out a deep breath and nodded.

"I think you need to focus on uni, love. If work can't meet you in the middle then, it's hard," Seungmin trailed off, not wanting to fully leave her in the dark but not wanting to be too blunt.

"What do you think, jagi?" Jisung wondered, curled up against Minho, one leg hanging over the older's lap.

"I don't know. I don't even wanna make any decisions right now," she shook her head tiredly, blinking a couple times.

"That's understandable, baby, how about we just relax for now, ok?" Changbin suggested.

"And if anything else is upsetting you, please tell us," Chan huffed with a knowing smile.

"Ok, promise," she grinned.

₊˚⊹♡

She must have fallen asleep without realising, as she found herself waking up to Jeongin and Felix giggling over something on the latter's phone.

"What's going on?" she murmured tiredly, pressing her face deeper into... Jisung's chest, it took one whiff of his cologne to be able to tell it was him.

"Had a good sleep then, hmm?" Minho poked her forehead, slow blinking at her.

"Mm, yeah," she nodded, "Lixie, Innie, what's funny?"

The two froze, looking at her a bit guiltily.

"Well, umm, you know we have that camera in the hallway, just in case for security, like if someone broke in or-" Jeongin began to ramble awkwardly,

"I know, yeah," she nods, adjusting her head against Jisung's chest as he loosely keeps an arm around her, securing her to him.

"We're actually sorry for laughing, babe, it's just... You were crying over our shoes earlier?" Felix can't even keep eye contact as he explains.

Jisung stifles a laugh and so she slaps his chest playfully through her mild embarrassment, making him yell out dramatically.

"What's Sungie done now?" Hyunjin asks as he flops onto the sofa, entering the room again after leaving Chan, Seungmin and Changbin to managing the cooking.

"It's more about what our jagi did," Minho teases, looking at her with a smug grin.

"Guys, I was stressed, leave me aloneeee," she huffed, but it didn't stop the light laughter that filled the room knowing that she wasn't completely upset about it.

"Sorry, but..." Jeongin chuckles again, "the way you throw the shoes away from you is so funny!"

"What did our shoes do to you?!" Felix laughed again as he watched the video on replay.

"They smelt bad," she grinned happily, teasing them back as revenge, "specifically Ji's."

"Yah!"

Jisung gave her a noogie, keeping her trapped in his arms. He couldn't let her discredit him like that.

"Sorry! Sorry! Hahaha!"

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justbelievinginmagic · 6 months ago

Text

im(mortal) - part 2: daydream.

pairing(s): vampire!enhypen ot7 x fem!reader, jake x reader focus for this chapter. series summary: Seven souls struggle with the bitter dregs of eternal life. As they hide amongst human society, they try to discover a cure for their curse, decade after decade, century into century. In their investigations, they find more than they could imagine brewing including a strange magnetic pull towards a human woman. Will they be able to find their humanity once more or will their world crumble beneath the weight of immortality? glimpse: In this modern-day university hall of over one hundred students, there was a lone heart beating louder than any heart that Jake had ever heard in his immortal life. Who's was it? warnings/tags: Inspired by Enhypen's MVs lore, Vampire AU, sort of Soulmate AU, College AU, heavy science fiction inspiration, ot7 x reader but not poly ot7 (but some are really close tbh), 3rd person POV, use of YN, Ni-ki written as Riki, mature topics, vampire typical themes, vampire lore, blood, biting, canon typical violence, descriptions of blood & sounds of blood, bloodlusting, stealing blood bags, mentions of illnesses, secondhand embarrassment from YN, obsessive tendencies from Jake, let me know if there needs to be more tags! word count: 5.7k first chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

One thing that never got easier was the sound. Some of the seven could block them out, but, like tinnitus, it’d ring back into focus. Loud. Overwhelming. Ever-present. As the decades crawled forward, there was only more noise. The electricity humming, the world buzzing and dinging and swooshing, the bones creaking. The gurgling, the beating, the rushing, the squelching of beautiful, wonderful, tempting blood.

Never-ending.

Jungwon had gotten good at ignoring a majority of it, but, when surrounded on all sides by humans in the large university lecture hall, it was distracting. Students talking, their hearts beating, their stomach grumbling, their phones and tablet and laptops dinging and humming and whirling, the pencils scratching, the shoes squeaking, the fluorescent lights buzzing. It was a lot to block out while still focusing on the lecture at hand. That was a big reason only a handful of the seven blood-brothers attempted going to college in person. In fact, most of them took advantage of online college courses instead. Jay and Riki could never survive around such commotion – for different reasons.

Heeseung sat beside Jungwon, spinning a pen around his long fingers repeatedly. Jake was a few rows in front of them. A collection of girls whispered and swooned nearby, pointing at Jake as he adjusted his hair. They could hear their whispers clear as day.

Jungwon smiled fondly. It was the same routine. A routine he was starting to like. He had grown to like routine now. He liked its stability.

The professor droned on about something he had already learned decades ago. His Google document on his laptop didn’t have any notes from the session; just an email opened up with this week’s shifts at the hospital. Not many hours, all in the graveyard shift he noted. Good. He was tired of missing his day-classes when he got scheduled during the day. A medical student like him was always busy but c’mon, he’d lament. A notification popped up in the corner of his laptop. A message from Jay: Sunghoon got dinner.

Relief trickled through his veins. Their stash of blood was running low these past few weeks. Jungwon couldn’t sneak anything from the hospital with the rising cases of a new mystery illness plaguing the country. He hadn’t heard much about it other than the rise of blood transfusions in the hospital. There was something brewing said doctors under their breath. A sickness that they didn’t understand.

So, the seven didn’t have their recent easy way of getting dinner. Not without suspicions rising or questions being asked. They had other ways than Jungwon sneaking a few blood bags. It had been decades, a century of needing this vitae. They had other ways. Not as easy but still other ways. And, their leeching (pun intended) off of the hospital would return.

After all, there was one thing that they learned in their decades of immortality: life goes on. Things evolve. Illnesses come and go in a blink of an eye. Plagues crash through society like waves of an uncontrollable ocean. It ebbed and flowed. Life came and went.

They didn’t need to worry about that, of course. They learned quite quickly that illnesses didn’t affect them. Nothing really did. Everything could be solved with blood. Hunger; blood. Injury; blood. Exhaustion beyond sleep; blood. Blood, blood, blood.

That’s all that matter for them, to them. An ever-constant need, an ever-constant haunt.

Pumping, rushing, thud-thudding, thu-thumping, beating, pulsing blood. Taunting.

Jake’s head throbbed already. He wondered if it was hunger striking him harder than usual (he hadn’t drunk as much blood lately, waiting for their newest batch) or if it was the bright fluorescent lights overhead faintly flickering. He tried to pay attention to the professor’s ramblings – a lecture on some historical event. The presentation on the projector flickered and flickered. Did the humans notice it, he wondered?

Ugh, everything bothered him today. It made his anxiety climb and itch under his skin. Like a match temptingly close to a sandpaper pad, brushing and teasing against the rough surface. He felt his palms sweat. His body buzzed. The noises were louder.

Louder.

There was a louder heartbeat that caught Jake’s attention. It was racing, louder and faster than anyone around him. A faint crinkle of his brow creased his forehead. He had never heard such a loud heart. It was magnified, almost to a too brash amplified beat. Immediately, Jake found it annoying.

No, it was not annoying; it was alarming.

His fingers fiddled with the edge of his ribbed sweater, taking slow breaths. In through his mouth, out through his nose like Jungwon had advised long ago.

Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud.

He felt this loud heartbeat like it was his own heart’s pulsations. But his heart couldn’t race like that, couldn’t beat like that. It couldn’t. It hadn’t in a long time. Jake’s gaze flickered from the professor’s slide-show to glance back at Jungwon and Heeseung.

The eldest vampires, not in age but in rank, stared back at him. If anyone else had caught their gazes locking, they would say it was eerie. A magnetic quality almost. They locked and steadied on one another despite there being three of them. There was a quiet understanding between the three that most humans never experience. Their eyes spoke to one another with no words or facial expressions.

‘You good?’

It was a simple thought that pressed into Jake’s mind. Thoughtful and careful much like the man who ‘said’ it. Heeseung was no emotion-reader (like Jay), but Jake’s mind was racing like a river. He could only pick out a few things in its rush. ‘What the fuck?’ being the loudest thought.

Jake nodded minutely, quick and near impossible for a human to detect. Just a little twitch if anything.

‘You don’t hear that?’ Jake projected.

Heeseung’s brow rose questioningly. There was nothing. Nothing he could tell at least. Things were ordinary. Annoying and overwhelming but ordinary. He shook his head. It made Jake’s brow crinkle into a furrow. He turned his head to stare at the professor once more.

“This signified a change in society – the first pandemic in modern times, and yes,” the professor drawled. “The 1910s are considered modern.” No one chuckled in the hall. “It sent shockwaves throughout everything. Culture, technology, gender-roles, war – when things are turbulent, people get scared.”

Thu-thud. Thu-thud. Thu-thu-thud. It was distracting.

Thu-thud. Thu-thud. Thu-thud-thud. How could they not hear it?

Thu-thud. Thu-thu-thump. Jake’s hand rose to his mouth, fiddling with his lips. His sharp teeth ached.

He glanced over the crowd. Who’s heart was it? Who was it? Was someone wildly nervous? No, it wasn’t racing like that. He’s heard all sorts of heart beats. Nervous, happy, afraid. It was just loud, quick, and… tempting. He could imagine the hot, pulsing blood coursing through the mystery person’s veins. Burning hot. Fast and quick and sweet. The way it’d pour into his mouth like a waterfall, never enough no matter how fast it spilled into the maw, into his own veins.

‘Dude.’ Heeseung broke through Jake’s daydream, scoldingly.

Jake’s cheeks burned hot, embarrassed his hyung heard his blood-lust fantasy. His entire body felt hot actually. He shifted, uncomfortably. His hand went to shove his hair out of his face, sweat beaded at his hairline. He heard a college girl nearby swoon. “He’s so hot,” a whisper to another burned in his ear. They were sitting only a few seats away, but it was hard to catch it from the hummingbird heart that bellowed over everything. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu--

Then, in through the double-doors of the lecture hall, the heart came not barreling into the room but creeping in, quietly. So quietly he was shocked her heart could be that loud and yet look so unaffected on the outside (other than having a pretty bashfulness dusting her cheeks red.) He bit down, jaw clenching painfully. She’d be delicious he knew it. So tasty.

YN thanked God that this was a lecture class – she was pretty sure the professor didn’t even know her name. Anonymity was liquid courage. A single student among a hundred. She could sneak it. Or so she thought. When everyone’s eyes zoomed in on her, she couldn’t help but pause. A flare of fight or flight, a want to hide. Her fingers curled around the metal push-bar of the blue door behind her. Her eyes tried not to lock with anyone’s as she tried to find an open seat anywhere in a hundred-person hall. Darting over the first row, the second row, no, no, no open seats.

“Late and disruptive,” the professor crowed out as he paused in his lecture.

He put a hand on his hip as he turned and stared at her as well. He looked down his nose at her, all sharp lines with the projection of the slide-show casting shadows over his face. Her mouth dried up as she clung to the door a bit tighter. Jake’s mouth watered as her heart skyrocketed in her chest. How was that even possible?

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“Find a seat or excuse yourself from my class before I kick you out,” he barked.

Her eyes widened. Damn, what a dick.

“Sor-sorry,” she bleated out again as she rushed in front of the class.

Some students laughed, snorting in their hand; most stared off into nothing, wishing to be in their dorms’ beds. A late-class always made students creep on the edge of sleep. The last rays of winter sunlight trickled in through the high ceiling windows at the back of the lecture hall.

Her boots, still caked in cold snow from outside, clanked against the concrete floors. Chunks of ice were left on the steps as she began to ascend quickly. The professor refused to continue until she had sat. Her ears burned. Except for her hurried footsteps, it was so quiet.

She was so loud in Jake’s ears; his eyes were stuck on her. Her heart was beating a thousand beats per second into a metaphorical megaphone. He would be worried for her health if she didn’t look so utterly normal. Well, normal-ish. Her face was a rosy color – cheeks flushed with blood and heat.

His tongue salivated. His canines ached. He wanted to bite her reddened cheek, draw that blood to his lips – that tempting heart could fill his mouth, his maw, his heart, his veins.

‘Jake.’ It was a warning tone, gentle and deep in his head; Heeseung was still poking around in his brain. ‘You good?’

It felt like water was dosed over his head, and still he felt holt. Shame, guilt, hunger: they all clashed in his stomach like some sort of boiling pot. He blinked and glanced away from this human woman. It was hard to look away as she hurried past. He tried to block out the images of taking the woman into his arms, biting her. Biting, biting, biting. He raised a hand to brush over his neck, shifting in his seat. His gaze flickered to his brothers, two wide saucers of brown-red eyes. Searching for support as his anxiety roiled in his chest. Heeseung’s gaze was steady on Jake, not even glancing over at the woman who hurried past the rows of students. Clunk, clank, clunk.

‘Do you need to leave?’

The thought pressed through a flurry of blood-lusting thoughts and guilt-ridden rambles, all jumbled in Jake’s head as he stared off at them. Almost unseeing. Jake breathed out, unsure. Why? Why was her heart so… tempting? None of the other students tempted him so. Just. Her.

Jungwon’s eyes followed her for the trio (because, of course, Heeseung had kept him in the loop with Jake – a strange case of telepathic telephone). His eyes lazed over her form as she settled down into an empty seat, a row behind Jake. She was pretty, he’d admit. But nothing drew him to her. Not even her heart beat. Her bag was slung to the ground with a clatter, and her hair fell around her face in a curtain as she pretended to search through it for her notebook and pencil. Hunched over, she tried to hide from the world for a second. Waiting, in the terrible silence of the large hall. A cough echoed from somewhere. Finally, the professor spoke once more, and she let out a shudder of a breath. Her eyes shut.

Cheeks red and heart pounding, YN thought maybe she shouldn’t had come to class at all; skipping wasn’t too bad of a sin, and most students did it with these types of classes; she was good with attendance usually, so, really, where was the harm? All this led to was humiliation at the hands of a professor who didn’t understand public buses getting delayed.

YN took a few deep breaths, a hand going to rub at her forehead before she tugged out her notebook and a stray pen. Popping back up in a flurry of hair, she watched as a handsome man hid his gaze, turning to face the professor who had begun his lecture once more. God, everyone was looking at her, she thought as she buried herself in her jacket and buried her attention into her notebook.

Jake took a deep breath. He had gotten caught staring. Ignore her. Ignore her heart. Ignore the heat that seemed to radiate from her. Ignore her. Ignore her. Ignore it.

Slowly, her heart slowly fell into a calmer rhythm, but it didn’t seem to quiet. In fact, Jake swore it grew louder and louder. Like a ticking clock, like a pendulum swinging back and forth, like a metronome counting in a siren melody. Like a deadly monster calling his name and his name only. His blood-brothers didn’t feel her pull. When he glanced back at them, all Heeseung did was give him a questioning look. A careful look. Ever the older brother.

‘I’m okay.’ Jake thought in a mantra. ‘I’m in control.’

He was sure Heeseung doubted him; he wasn’t sure he trusted himself.

Class crept slowly by – the rest of the hour-long lecture feeling longer by how the professor droned on and on in the same monotone. It felt like an eternity with her heart in his ear. It wasn’t a squelching thing he realized. It was soft and thrumming and tempting. He flashed between daydreams of sip, sip, sip, sipping her blood from her throat to daydreams of being done with the class and running home to hide himself in his bed.

He was so lost in his thoughts that Jake didn’t notice the professor wrapping up class. The humans stood from their seats. His blood-brothers had stood from their seats. She hadn’t left. That’s all he could focus on. Her heart. Her heart was thudding and thudding in his ears. In his heart.

He stared off. Daydreaming of a girl he didn’t even know the name of. Just her heart.

YN sighed out as she stared at her incomplete notes. Only half a class worth of notes penned, and she knew this professor didn’t share his slides on the online portal. Cruel. (That was the real reason she had come late; this teacher hated technology.) Glancing around her row, suddenly, she felt invisible. Students push past her knees as they shuffled out of the row, yawning and texting and itching to get out of the lecture hall.

She needed the notes from the beginning of the class … glancing around, she debated just waiting until next class, but then she spotted him.

The cute twenty-something year old that had stared at her earlier, dressed in an inviting over-sized soft-ribbed sweater with dark long hair, sat in front of her, still. He hadn’t shifted – almost frozen like a statue. Maybe he was asleep? Some kids had learned to sleep sitting up in her multi-hour classes. She paused. Well, she could wake him – that’s only polite. And maybe he’ll be polite back and let her copy his notes.

Nudging his shoulder with a lithe finger, she asked. “Excuse me?”

Jake took in a small miniscule breath as he was jolted out of his daydream. He knew it was her. Her heart had become a melody, a tempting one but one that he fell into like the waves of an ocean, deep and dark and tempting but strangely soothing. She smelled nice. Like perfume, like detergent, like iron-blood. He licked his lips; his mouth was so dry and yet so salivating. Slowly, he turned and offered a small smile, tentative and gentle. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his ribbed sweater.

“Yeah?” his voice nearly cracked and he wanted to hide into the walls.

Oh, he was cute. His eyes were a pretty brown-red like lit firewood in a camp-fire. His hair was tousled effortlessly. His smile he offered her was bashful, soft, fleeting. But it was radiant. He was so cute. Swallowing quickly, she blinked.

“Hi, sorry, can I take a picture of your notes from the beginning of the class?” she asked.

Her heart had jumped. He had heard it. He swore he could almost feel it. His body felt aflame. Her features were so pretty. His eyes licked over her cheeks, the same cheeks he had wanted to bite earlier. His heart jittered and he jumped a bit to shift his notebook between his palms.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, of course,” he stumbled out.

The heart smiled brighter. “Thanks.”

With ease, she took a quick snapshot of his notes with her cell-phone. She squinted at his notes – there

“Sorry-- uh, sorry for the bad handwriting,” he apologized, flicking to the next page.

“No, no, its fine; better than mine,” she told him.

“I doubt that,” he teased. “Mine looks ancient.”

It was ancient. He’s had decades to change his handwriting, but it always remained this too loose cursive script. Like a doctor’s handwriting, it was indecipherable at points. He knew it. Yet, he still flushed at her words – face hot, heart hot.

“It’s pretty.” She said instead, her hand reached out to flip to the next page.

Her heartbeat filled his senses; maybe that’s why he felt so hot. Like his body was mimicking the way her heart rushed.

“I’m Jake,” he said. Sharp teeth gleaming.

“YN,” she smiled. Blunt teeth shining.

Her hand outstretched first. At the barest touch of her skin against his, he felt like he had been struck by lightning. Like every cell in his body became bubbling hot and freezing cold. Like he was stuck in the mansion, sitting in a tub of icy water before it became scalding hot. His atoms rearranged, electrified.

He pulled his hand away quick, jolting back and tugging his notebook with him. She let out a little sound that had his eyes flashing to her face.

She was pretty. So pretty, this sweet heart. His gums ached. His heart raced. Her heart raced. Their heart raced. He had to leave. He had to. He had to.

“Sorry, gotta go,” he excused lamely before stumbling out of his seat, fisting his backpack in one hand, and pressing his notebook to his chest with his other hand.

“Oh-okay,” YN barely managed to get out before she was alone in the emptying lecture hall.

Two pairs of red eyes watched her from the top of the lecture hall before, in a whoosh, they were gone.

“What was that all about?” Heeseung prompted, catching up to Jake easily. His hair was tousled by the teleportation, an unearthly shudder to his locks like it moved in slow motion. Like it was catching up with the world around him.

Jake’s face felt hot, his hands felt hot. His entire body felt hot. Scorching, hotter, hotter. Out of control.

“Nothing,” he mumbled out. “It was nothing.”

“Didn’t look like it,” Jungwon commented from behind the duo. He kept his gaze solidly on Jake’s form.

“He could hear her heartbeat over all the others,” Heeseung gossiped. “YN, right?”

Her name felt like a taunt and Jake swallowed against the burning in his throat as his gums ached; his teeth were painful to the brush of his tongue.

YN, YN, YN.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

“Jake.” His name sounded like a scold.

“I know,” he bit out, eyes shutting tight.

In his anger, his own fangs nicked his lower lip. A drop of red blood formed there. He licked it up and felt a burn in his throat. He could still hear her heart. How could he still hear it? He could still hear it pounding in his ears like it was his own heart in his chest. How? They were far from the lecture hall now, passing a bus stop. Sweat prickled the back of his neck.

“Do you need to stay home for a while? We don’t want ano–,“ Jungwon continued.

His cool, collected words were cut off as Jake turned suddenly, stopping in his tracks. His eyes were flaring red like ruby gems; his teeth sharp and glinting in the orange sunlight

“I don’t remind you of every mess up; I said it was nothing!" Jake snapped; a nearby lit-sign extinguished with a pop of sparks. Some humans nearby yelled in fright.

Jungwon’s dark red eyes were stoney as he stared at Jake. The fuming man huffed and puffed before he looked aside.

“This doesn’t make me think its nothing,” Jungwon countered, glancing over at the broken sign. His face was a blank canvas, almost detached looking as he walked towards Jake.

Jake’s breaths were shuddering. Jungwon paused beside him. His voice low as he spoke to him. Jake shut his eyes again, a hand raising to rub the bridge of his nose. He could still smell her. Like she was following after him. What the fuck?

‘I don’t mean to bring up the past.’ It was a fleeting thought from Jungwon.

Heeseung looked between the two, watching as Jungwon whispered to the other. It was an effort to give one another privacy with their impossible senses, harder with Heeseung’s powers, but it was possible. Like now. Jake replied back; his fangs sparkled in the setting sun. Dripping in saliva, dripping with sweet venom. When there was a lull, a barely shared look between the two men, Heeseung cleared his throat, shouldering his backpack over his back.

“C’mon, let’s just go home.” He slung his arms over the two, brotherly. “You’re probably just hungry.”

They walked away from the humans chattering about the sudden burst electrical light.

“We’re home,” Jungwon called out, slinking his backpack off his shoulder.

Heeseung and Jake followed in after him; Jake pushed past the pair and up the stairs with heavied footsteps.

The grand mansion was different to the mansion they grew up in. It was larger than the orphanage for one – each man had their own large room, though few of them were decorated. In fact, if you walked around the mansion, it had a strange feeling to it. Like it was the mimicry of living. Perfectly staged. Slightly empty.

Heeseung liked this mansion despite the fake feeling he felt walking through it. It was better than his previous home. Before Jungwon had gathered them to live together once more, in this day and age, they had been scattered across the world like lost pieces of the same puzzle. Some stayed together and others had strayed off alone. Riki and Heeseung had wanted the same thing at the time. Freedom. Or what they thought was freedom.

Their apartment had been dirt-cheap – but also dirty. Peeling, molding baby-blue walls taunted him like a specter. Two small single beds took up the majority of the damp room. A large window took up one wall, looking over the city (if one could look past the coat of grime it had). There was a radiator that hummed a high-pitched shrillness more often than not separating their beds. Eventually, there was an old television, new at the time and something the pair of them splurged on with the little cash they made, shoved against the far wall next to their shared closet. The floor was often covered in books or notebooks or sometimes trash. Boys being boys, or just him and Riki being free.

This place was far better. Clean, large, and clean. His room was more decorated than most of the blood-brothers. He clearly liked it here more.

Heeseung padded into the living room and plopped down on the too-firm settee, sighing out and stretching. At least here, the ever-present sounds of hearts’ thu-thumping and gurgling and sloshing were quieter. All of their heart beats were similar, familiar, and easy to tune out. They often didn’t hear each other now. Was it familiarity? Was it fate? Was it that they were inhuman and therefore equal to their senses? They didn’t know. Just that each of the vampires’ heart rates were slow, almost sludge-like as their strange blood coursed through their veins at a snail’s pace.

The noise of the television was a different story; Heeseung’s tired eyes flickered over to Riki who was biting into his lower lip as he played a video game on the flat-screen TV. It was some new flashy vampire game with too much gore and with a screen so dark that humans couldn’t play it in bright-light. Meanwhile, Riki could see every pixel if he focused too hard.

‘Hey.’ He greeted Heeseung with a single thought; his eyes didn’t tear away from the screen.

Jungwon walked past the living room, past Heeseung and Riki, into a kitchen. Now, if anything looked like a staged space, it was the kitchen. Fake fruits sat in a basket, plates were sitting in a cabinet, dustied and unused.

Jay was there, sorting through their fridge. Handfuls of IV bags were in his arms. A negative, O positive, A positive, even an AB were among the labeled. Patiently, he reorganized their refrigerator by type. Sunghoon was sat on the nearby counter; face mask and baseball cap discarded beside him. He was suckling on an IV bag quickly, almost chugging it. Sunghoon always struggled with the taste of blood, even decades later.

“Hey,” Jay nodded at Jungwon.

“Hey; good job,” the oldest vampire yet youngest among the three nudged Sunghoon’s knee with his hand. “You didn’t get caught?”

Sunghoon’s brows raised in a challenge at Jungwon, playful, as he squeezed the rest of the blood into his mouth.

“Not that I know of, couldn’t sense anyone nearby, and Jay took care of the cameras.” Sunghoon commented, smacking his lips before tossing the IV haphazardly to his side.

“Good,” Jungwon hummed again. “Anyone else eat yet?”

“Riki devoured three of the new packs; I had one; Jay?” he looked towards the man finishing organizing the fridge.

He raised up two fingers. “Old stock.” He added.

“Where’s Sunoo?” Jungwon asked Sunghoon.

Sunghoon leveled him with an exasperated look. “Room. Where else?”

Jungwon sighed out. It had been two weeks of this. Sunoo isolated himself often throughout the decades, growing lost in his mind and its illusions. He’s recalled stories of him and the boys that had never happened. Spoke riddles of a princess, talk of a land far away from theirs. Jungwon worried for him more often than not.

Grabbing two older blood bags, he thanked the two before treading through the rest of the mansion. The long hallways felt endless at times, but Jungwon liked it that way. It felt endless in a way that the manor they grew up in didn’t. Their whole world had been in that stupid, tiny house. That stupid burnt to a crisp mansion. Now, they had all of this. Or at least, Jungwon had all of this. It was his mansion after all. He owned it.

“Sunoo,” he called out as he walked down wainscoted hallway. Dark cherry wood and white painted walls encased him. One door on each side. A music room. A painting room. Finally, Sunoo’s room at the end of the hallway. “Dinner-time.”

Jungwon knocked once before entering, shutting the white door behind him.

“Dinner,” Jay called from the doorway to the living room.

“In a minute,” the youngest called. Riki hadn’t moved, his eyes locked on the television. His in-game character bit ruthlessly into a human. Screams and garbles noises came from the speaker.

“Not for you. You drank three bags in two minutes,” Jay retorted. “Hyung.”

Heeseung nodded from his spot.

“I’m still hungry,” Riki said. He didn’t complain, just stated.

“Where’d Jake go?” Jay asked ignoring the youngest, his gaze flickering upwards. He could feel the turbulent emotions like a tremble in the air. Like static electricity clinging to the back of his mouth. A calm before the storm.

“Attic,” Sunghoon called, half lying on the couch. His laptop was perched on his stomach; some notes about velocity and speed and weight shone on the screen. Heeseung didn’t understand most of it – he favored the arts while Sunghoon favored this. Science. He said it helped. Helped what he wasn’t sure.

But, of course, Sunghoon would know where Jake had gone off too. He was skilled with knowing where everyone was.

“He good?” Jay asked, more towards Heeseung.

Heeseung sighed but revealed what had happened. “There was this girl in our history course.”

“Oh, a crush?” Riki teased, laughing as he paused his game finally.

“No, not like that,” Heeseung defended, brows furrowing. “It was weird. He was like obsessing over her—”

“It’s a crush,” Riki teased, dangling his controller in between long fingers. He stretched out on the couch, kicking his now-long limbs into Heeseung’s lap.

“No,” Heeseung scolded, nudging the younger’s legs off his lap. “He could hear her heartbeat louder than the others.”

“What?” Jay laughed a bit, concerned.

“Weird, right?” he countered. “Jungwon’s worried.”

“I got that, but he’s always worried,” Jay replied, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway.

The boys laughed at that.

Jake could barely hear their laughter from the attic. No, all he could hear was her. Her heart. He could feel it in his chest still, his heart thudding more ferociously than ever before.

A hand rose to press against his bare skin, shedding the soft sweater and his button up shirt. Staring into a mirror, he looked at his chest. His heart thu-thumped, thu-thumped, thu-thumped. Faster than ever. His eyes flared a hot red - almost a burning orange. Sweat dripped down his back.

He hadn’t felt this way ever. Maybe when he was young but that had been so long ago. Things were different now. They were all different now. Older. Physically and mentally. Controlled.

Control. He had everything under control. His heart beat hummingbird-quick. Uncontrolled. A vein in his neck pulsated. Control.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He laid back against the spare bed, his skin sizzling at it met the mattress. A burn of his silhouette haloed into the fabric. Smoke pillowed around him.

Breathe out, breathe in.

Her heart, his heart, was beating, still. His heart...

He had to see her again.

Something had changed today beneath the setting orange sun. Just like that night under the blood moon.

Running through the forest that night as boys upon the brink of manhood, they never realized how far their prison had been from civilization. Many nights were spent in those woods.

Dawns that bled a burning red sun, dazed in their fury and hunger. Angry at what they have become – because they had become something different. Their stomach cramped even with their gulps of red vitae. Their teeth were sharpened like wolves. Their eyes red, inhuman. Nights that felt endless in a cold blue, gnashing teeth and icy tears. Their path was formed by fear. Their unity was all they had those nights and days.

Hazed by time, many of them can only make out bits and pieces.

They hid. They hid for quite some time. Inside an abandoned hunting shed with a single mattress in the corner on the floor. There was the smell of rotten blood and animal fur. Some of them argued about going back – they’d die out here they said. Blood vials were downed sparingly, shared between the brothers as they sat on the bed. Huddled but not cold. They were never cold.

Riki remembered their fangs glinting at one another in anger. Sunoo remembered chasing Jake down in the woods one day after he fell into a fit of tears.

Jungwon remembered offering his neck, his wrist, his veins to his brothers once their rations dwindled. The pierce of fangs ached more than any needle did but he didn’t cry or whimper. It was his sacrifice.

During those dusks to dawns, they learned more and more about themselves. Their talents were more than speed or telepathy or freezing time. It was teleportation. One moment they could be in the shed; the next they were perched on a tree branch. It was immortality. Their bodies were flexible, able to bend and face the world with a resilience. It was hearing. They could hear the doe running through the forest away from a predator, away from their violence.

Sunghoon discovered the strangest one – transformation. Shapeshifting. Transfiguration. It wasn’t in anger or fear or any emotion when it had happened. He simply felt it. Tingling at his fingertips, tingling in his toes. Like a live-wire beneath his skin. His head threw back, staring up at the starry night. The deep-azure sky far above him seemed so free, seemed far from their reality. Optimistic. He took a breath in - of upturned dirt, of fresh dew, of aged-pine. And when he breathed out, he became something else.

A flurry of bats took his place. Spiraling up and away from the ground he stood on, flying high, flying free. Flying away from the forest.

In his discovery, Sunghoon had found their key to their future. A line cutting through the forest. A road. A way to civilization. He returned for his brothers and took them forward. Day broke as they walked the fine line.

For so long there had been only two constants in their lives since they walked down that road and into society. Their unbreakable bonds and their unstoppable hunger for blood. But Jake knew in his blood, as it raced for the first time in a century, that there was a third constant: you.

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siriusly-stucky · 7 months ago

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Stray Kids Omegaverse Fic Recs

Main rec masterlist

I update this as I read new fics so there are always new additions being added. however it takes time, and I have years worth of my likes and reblogs to go through and add as well so please be patient as I compile and add to the lists

All bark And No Bite

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

"Summary: There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation now replaced with another. After the omegas disappeared you have to extra careful, especially now that you have left your pack and family. What happens when your car breaks down on another pack's land?"

Wolf Inside

Being in a pack isn't hard, not when every instinct you've ever had is pack, family, group. What is difficult though is being in a pack where everyone is so incredibly hot and so damn nice all the time, and did you forget to mention attentive? And god, they all smell ridiculously good. Being attracted to your mates isn't bad right? But it's definitely gonna make things a little more difficult, you know, when that time of the year rolls around. Shit, you're really in for it, huh?

Stray Kids, SKZ, A/B/O, Alpha Beta Omega Dynamics, SKZ ABO, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Stray Kids x you, Stray Kids x reader, ot8, Poly!skz, Bang Chan, Lee Minho, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Felix, Han Jisung, Kim Seungmin, Yang Jeongin, Mentioned Ateez

Red Moon

Summary: Hana's life was planned out perfectly. She would marry the pack alpha, become Luna and do her duties. But the appearance of a mysterious stranger turns her life inside out she finds herself outcast and alone. Will she find her new home in Chan and his pack of strays? Will she find what she's been looking for all along in the mysterious alpha? Or will everything crumble under her again?

Unwilling Alpha

SKZ Mate Book 1 Book 2

Going from one werewolf pack to another. There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation is now replaced with something less sinister. Can Y/N learn to trust another group of werewolves?

Beautifully Cruel World

Poly OT8 x Reader

Everyone knows the world is a cruel place, especially for Omegas, at least what little of them there are left. It's rare for any omegas to find their mated pack, especially an omega who has lived as a beta ever since she's presented never knowing how to truly be an omega. But after escaping her pack and family Y/n comes across an alpha and two beta's wanting to help her, where she discovers what its like to live in a true pack and embrace her presentation.

Greenridge

SKZ x SKZ , SKZ x Reader

Omegas - once beloved, now abused. Omega y/n has a chance at a new life away from her old pack when she stumbles onto the territory of the Greenridge Pack (Stray Kids). Of course she is terrified they will be just like her last pack. Little does she know that she has been led wrong her whole life and this pack is not like all the others. The Greenridge pack is in need of an omega and when they find her, they know she's the one. Can she fill the spot and learn to trust them? Or will her old alpha find her before she can?

#stray kids #omegaverse #felix #bang chan #hyunjin #han jisung #lee know

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lunar-opal · 12 days ago

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~ Searching For Serenity ~

~ Chapter 21: On Shaky Ground ~

~ SFS Chapter 1 ~

Relationship Tags: MC/Caleb, MC/Zayne, MC/Rafayel, MC/Xavier, MC/Sylus, Zayne/Caleb, MC/All The LIs (future), Other Relationship Tags To Be Added

Additional Tags: POV Third Person Limited, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Spoilers, Unplanned Pregnancy, Future Polycule, Canon-Typical Violence, Unreliable Narrator, Lore and Worldbuilding, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Discussion of Abortion & Miscarriage, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Unhealthy Past Relationships, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Sex, Medical Jargon, Prophetic Dreams, Memories, Lemurian Culture, Lemurian Anatomy, Implied/Referenced Torture, Explicit Sexual Content, Major Character Injury, Murder, Organised Crime, Blood and Violence, Pre-Poly, Other Additional Tags To Be Added

General Summary: Amaryllis has been in love with Caleb since she was eleven years old. When he dies in an explosion, her world crumbles - until she discovers something precious he left behind. Healing takes time. She learns to make sense of the woman and mother she is growing into, and finds that her heart has so much more love to give than she ever thought possible. Four of her closest male friends become... so much more to her, and to each other. But vivid dreams rule Lissie's sleep, something dangerous lurks on the periphery, and the man she thought long dead isn't quite buried...

Chapter Summary: Lissie is taken back to the Onychinus base by two men wearing crow masks. ... Do they treat all their prisoners like this?

Here's 21! The next chapter is from Zayne's perspective, as we see what the guys have been up to...

Caleb's birthday card was incredible T-T and if speculation is right and Rafayel's getting a new myth next, I'm going to be jumping with excitement!

Please enjoy the chapter! <3

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undertale-fic-librarby · 8 months ago

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hii so sorry if this is too vague or has been asked before, but do you have any recommendations for good error-centric long fics? im okay with any ships or genres, i just rlly like error 💔💔 tysm!

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

The Clot by DustyLynx (Explicit, Complete)

When did life start going downhill? Error couldn’t answer. He didn’t see his path as something to climb, which meant that there couldn’t be a slope going downhill. He saw life as black and straight, running across the blank emptiness of the Void. No rising, no falling. Just a sequence of events that leaves new scars on bones. Endless battles on the way to the outcome — routine. Madness — the truth of life. Not to mention this pregnancy — unwanted, hateful and painful.

Errors (Spiteful) Holiday by Finally_Free, little_clown, PappyIsTheBest (Not Rated, Complete)

The story is also called; I don’t want too, so I shan’t. Error has had enough. He didn't choose this, he does NOT want this responsibility. and on top of that, he feels like he is missing something. Missing memories - he can't even remember his past. Nothing past arriving in the blank Anti-Void. The dreams won't leave him alone, Thinking about them give him headaches And 'Fate's Harpies' aka the voices are still bugging him when he's in the Anti-void... So he decides to go on strike. He's taking a holiday from destroying AU's; no matter the consequences to the Multiverse. Its a Reaper/Error/Nightmare Poly. (Chapter 1 & 2 rewritten on: 11/02/2021)

*OLD VERSION* Healing What Has Been Broken by Harrish6 (Teen And Up, Complete)

Error is the destroyer, Ink is the creator. Both Gods in their own right. They are the balance in their Multiverse, making sure that their Multiverse did not fall apart at the seams. If Error was able to destroy all the AU's, then there would be nothing left. The universe that they live in would just cease to exist if that happened. If Ink was able to continue to create with no one to stop him, then the AU's would collide and destroy one another. The universe would crumble and decay as they touch, as there is no more room to grow in. Error knew this well. Ink did not. Error was broken. He had nothing in the end. He had no friends, no family. He called for help, for anyone to save him from his own madness. But no one came. He fell into the void to be scattered across time and space. But he did not scatter, he traveled through time and space. Error landed in a new Multiverse. By the time Error's universe knew what they did wrong and the truth of the matter, their universe was falling apart and they had to get back Error. But they hit a big roadblock when they finally found Error. This universe would not let Error go without a fight.

Reborn [Error!Sans fanfic] [Fgod] by 3KainNyah (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Error is the (forced) god of destruction, Ink is the god of creation. Both are needed to keep the balance, but while one is loved the other is hated. Ink together with the judges elaborated a plan to finally stop Error. A deadly trap. Impossible to escape even for the feared destroyer. But someone is not following the plan. Things get out of control. Error gets out of control. Although things don't go exactly as planed, and the results are more chaotic than they should. It still worked. Error was finally gone. Lost into the VOID, scattering across time and space. But someone had their eyes on the broken destroyer for a long time, and they were waiting for this moment. Now they can finally act. And take care of their chosen child.... Error woke up at the sound of his own crying. What? What's this sound? Why can't he speak? Wait, where is he? Why can't he get up? ...Uh? Why is he... so small?...what happened to him?_________________________________ This story is inspired by 'Healing what has been broken' by harrish6. - fgod Error concept belongs to harrish6 - Undertale belongs to Toby Fox (Also available on Wattpad)

Careless Whisper by cheeseyfries (Explicit, Incomplete)

Error didn’t mean to fall, but here he was, in a multiverse entirely not of his own. Confused and outright a tad pissed, Error continues on his journey and meets many familiar faces. However, what will he do when he sparks the interest of the world’s most notorious mafia gang? Making a deal with the devil is dangerous, but who said Error was scared? [F!God created by Harrish6, check out their works!]

#fic rec #fic recommendation #ao3 fic recs #utmv #error sans #not suitable for minors #ask #mod sleepy

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all-about-kyu · 1 year ago

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Summary: Jungwoo can’t help that he loves it when you talk down to him. Pairing: Jungwoo x fem!reader (background of poly with Yangyang) Tropes: established relationship au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, poly background Smut Warnings: degradation, femdom, sex toys, mommy kink, spit play, dry orgasm, dacryphilia, edging Word Count: 1,203 Note: in the universe of PIP & MKB Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye Before You Interact February Filth Masterlist

Listen to ♡ Circus by Britney Spears

“Jungwoo,” you say in a warning tone, “Watch it.”

“What, babe?” Your husband smiles with a seemingly innocent face.

You lower your book slightly to look at him and raise your eyebrow. He knows exactly what he’s doing. You’ve had your legs tossed over his lap while you read for the better part of the afternoon. It’s been a relatively quiet day. Your other boyfriend, Yangyang, is finishing up his last year of university and is off to classes all day. Jungwoo had placed his hand on your knee and rubbed his thumb against the skin of your lower leg for a while at first while scrolling through his phone mindlessly. Now, his hands drag higher and higher on your thigh. His fingertips slip just beneath the edge of your shorts. You wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to push your thighs apart and play with you over your clothing any moment.

“You know what.” You say flatly, “Watch it or I’ll put you in your damn place.”

“Promise?” Jungwoo challenges.

“Don’t be a fucking brat, Kim Jungwoo. Yangie isn’t around to distract me. You’ll be the sole receiver.”

“I see no issue with this. Do you, Mommy?” He purrs out the name with a challenging lilt.

You mark your book and place it on the coffee table before swinging your legs off of him. Standing up, you grip Jungwoo’s jaw harshly and force him to look up into your darkening eyes. You immediately see his reserve crumble as his submissive headspace takes over.

“We’re going upstairs. If Yangyang comes home and hears you crying for mercy, he won’t be any help to you. Understood?”

“U-understood.”

You release his jaw and walk toward the stairs. Lifting your hand, you crook two fingers over, gesturing for him to follow you. You hear his footsteps fall behind yours. The moment you’re in your bedroom, Jungwoo doesn’t wait for your instruction to strip. He takes the liberty himself and sits bare for you at the foot of the bed. He expects you to praise him for his foresight. You don’t, though. You busy yourself in your armoire, finding the perfect toy to use on your bratty husband. Standing up straight again, you hide the toy behind your back. Jungwoo’s eyes are wide and curious as you step closer to him. Your eyes are still dark with dominance and lust.

“What do you have, Mommy?” He questions, with a tilt of his head.

“What do you want it to be?” You question back.

Jungwoo nibbles on his lower lip, “Whatever you think is best to punish me with.”

You smirk and knee in front of him, “Good answer. Now, does my brat want me to take care of this?”

You pull one hand up to run your finger along the underside of his cock. His hips jerk at the contact, and he nods intensely. Another smirk touches your lips before you spit on his cock, making it wet enough to use your toy of choice. Your husband squirms and whines as you spread the spit across his hard member. Now you pull the toy from behind your back, letting him finally see your choice. He lets out a shaky breath seeing the fleshlight in your hand. Sometimes it’s his favorite, others it’s his worst nightmare. Today, it’s the ladder. You bring the toy to be in line with his tip. You guide it down to only be wrapped around his tip, swiveling it in circles, causing your husband to whimper and whine at the sensation.

“You’re so easy, slut.” You chuckle darkly, “I’m only playing with your tip, barely even that, and you’re already a fucking wreck. What would our precious sub have to say about this?”

“Y-yangie– fuck– Yangie’s seen me sub before, seen me get in trouble.” He whines.

You push the toy all the way on him, pouting in faux compassion when he lets out a broken whine. Giving him time to compose himself isn’t in your thoughts today. You fuck the toy down on him quickly. His thighs squeeze together, and his hair falls on his face as he bows his head forward.

“He’s seen you be my slut before, yes. He enjoys watching his precious daddy fall apart for me, doesn’t he?” You muse, focusing on how his abs tense and intense with each motion, “He’s always such a good boy. He doesn’t try to play games with me like you do. Only bratty sluts do that. Are you my bratty slut, Jungwoo?”

“Yeah,” he moans, “I’m a bratty slut.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tut, “You’re not a slut, your my slut.”

“‘M your slut.” He corrects himself through a sob, “Mommy, I’m gonna–”

You pull the toy off of him entirely, knowing exactly how he was going to finish the sentence. His body shakes and convulses as if he’s cumming, but no cum comes out of his cock. He whimpers and whines at the sensation. He’s always hated dry orgasms. On the other hand, you love how much more desperate your husband and boyfriend get when it happens.

“That’s not fair.” He pouts.

“Oh?” You mock his pouty face and tone, “Is it not fair? Last time I checked, bratty sluts don’t get to cum how they want to.”

“Please, please, plea– fuck!”

His begs get cut off by you pushing the fleshlight back onto his weeping member. His muscles tense, his eyes squeeze shut, and small tears form at the corners. It takes everything in him not to fuck up into the toy. If he did, it would only cause a longer punishment. You continue to degrade him with filthy words, knowing he loved every moment of it. If he didn’t he knew your safeword and that he was able to use it at any point. You edge him a few more times, and each time, he lets out a pathetic sob, begging you to let him cum.

“I’ll be good! I can be good like Yangie is!” He promises, “Please, Mommy, let me cum.”

“Do you deserve it? Maybe I should leave you like this and spoil Yangyang when he gets home.”

It’s a semi-empty threat, though. Yangyang has been extra well-behaved recently. Typically when he’s stressed with his courseload, he gets a bit bratty, but he hasn’t even with his exams. Jungwoo opens his mouth to whine in protest. He closes his lips again when the sound of the alert for the door opening and closing again fills the house. His eyes go wide, and he begs silently. You smirk and start fucking the toy onto his cock roughly. A loud moan rips through the air.

“Baby? Woo? Are you two upstairs?” Yangyang calls through the house.

“We’re upstairs, pretty baby.” You call back, “I’m just handling a brat right now. Feel free to join us when you’re ready!”

Jungwoo jerks his hips up at your offer. Again you pull the toy away, making tears roll down his cheeks. You chuckle, watching how his cock jerks and drips a bit of precum. He was in for a long evening, now with the added fun of your shared boyfriend being home, too it’ll only be more enjoyable for everyone.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

#jungwoo smut #cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #joongfryefff24 #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct smut #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 smut #jungwoo fanfic #jungwoo x reader

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teaaddictdraws · 4 months ago

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Summer Medicine *⁠.⁠✧

A slight fsof spin off in a form of fluff.

Mentions of mental illness and depression. Hurt/comfort. Healing.

Everyone struggles at some point in their life. It's a universal rule. Every single person goes through hardship at least once. Some are affected by it more, some less. Poli was no exception to that rule.

It was around the end of June. Nearly a month since the rookie has failed his first year at the academy, now chained to his bed. With his crumbling health, it was hard for him to do anything. Only left to rot in his bed sheets and misery.

Or so that would be if it wasn't for an affable teenager he met some months prior to the events that worsened his depression, currently taking care of him. Jin has been nothing but good to Poli. Always supporting him in every way possible despite her young age. He often found her run the errands and work to provide for the two while also encouraging the robocar to get out of bed.

Yet even the ray of sunshine has its limits. Jin was often brought to the point where she questioned if she was doing enough for the rookie, and that made him feel shame. Guilt for being useless that seeped poison into his mind, causing him to only stay in bed for longer. And the cycle repeats itself. Over and over again.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" But not every day was this bad. When Poli was able to get off the cursed carousel, he tried to make plans with his roommate.

"I.. I think I do." The robocar rubbed his hand while replying to Jin's question. "I mean, you can't spend the entire summer just taking care of me." Poli just happened to over hear in one of her gleeful rambles that the girl wished they went to the beach together. And he was ready to fulfil that wish as a sign of his gratitude. Gratefulness for the actions he can never repay enough.

"Poli, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. I mean, I'm really happy and stuff, but you haven't been outside in a long time. Are you sure that you wanna go this far after a whole month?"

"Jin, it's only so often that you get a day off. I want us to do something else than be stuck in here all the time, even if it's my fault..."

The teenager only let her hands fall on her hips, as she slightly hummed in though. "Well, this could help you get your mind off everything" She raised her head and looked at the tired officer, giving him a cheerful smile "In that case, come on! We don't have much time!"

Things packed, house locked, the two have finally reached the beach within an hour or so.

The roommates found the beach itself somewhat empty, with only very few people getting cozy in the shade of trees and umbrellas. Such serenity only added to the beauty of the scenery. A sea painted in shades of aquamarine and navy, slightly mixing with the cerulean sky, while also being a contrast to the hot, golden sand.

Poli squinted his eyes. He wasn't used to seeing such vivid colours, not after spending so long in the dark of his house. He felt awkward. The few people were judgmentally staring at him, the sky was so bright, the sand so hot. Maybe Jin was right and he should have chosen to do something within his comfort zone. But he couldn't go back. Not when the teenager was dragging him across the beach on a high speed.

Soon Jin has chosen a spot to leave their belongings. No need to fear for your things to be stolen on an island of ghosts! "I think this should do." Exclaimed the inventor as she took out the sunscreen. "What do you think?"

"Ehm, I think so..?" Poli lightly shuffled his feet, letting his own bag fall down. The act of course drew her attention as she knew the rookie all too well by now. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes! I'm just-" He lets out a quiet sigh "I'm not used to such activities."

"Oh, you're gonna love it! Trust me!" The girl exclaimed putting some sunscreen on her body. Too bad it wouldn't have time to get absorbed as Jin grew quite impatient. "Here. Put on some and let's go swimming."

The teenager threw the bottle in Poli's hands and ran off towards the sea, making the robocar slightly stumble back. He examined the object that he held. While protection is always important, he's a big chunk of metal. Does he really need to waste the content on his frame? Nah, it's not so bad.

Tossing the bottle aside Poli ran up to Jin, who was impatiently waiting for him, the breeze playing with her onyx hair. Once the rookie stood besides her she swiftly dived right into the water, splashing the car in the process.

"Jin!" Exclaimed he, shielding himself from the cold droplets. The girl swam up on the surface, facing her friend with a guilty smile. "Sorry! Aren't you coming in?"

"I'm not sure.."

"Why?"

"It's freezing, Jin!"

Jin slightly pouted at such confession. And here is one of the robo vehicles. A bot that can withstand way lower temperatures than humans can. Yet the star seemed to be more affected by the cold unlike the sun. If course he would. The sun produced enough warmth of her own, unaffected by her surroundings. Maybe she could give some of that warmth to the rookie?

Her attention was caught by a sudden movement in the water. Vivid swatches of colour quickly passing by. "Hey, look at this." The girl pointed towards the place where the colourful creatures splashed themselves. Small fishes swimming so close to the shore.

Poli was wowed by such a discovery. He stepped closer to the sea and kneeled down, the chilly waves tickling his feet. "Wow..." Rarely did the rookie witness such tropical creations of nature. Maybe only on the TV, but he wasn't prone to watching documentaries often. "They're so beautiful."

One of the small fishes swam closer to the robocar. While most were afraid of him, some were interested in such an overly large metal guest. "Hey there, little ones.." He extended his hand, letting the tiny critters inspect him.

The officer was so focused on his new friends that he didn't notice the girl watching him from the side with a wide grin painted on her sun kissed skin. Taking advantage of the moment of vulnerability, Jin pulled the rookie's elbow and threw him in the water with her.

Suddenly he found himself in the cool sea, slightly shivering from the sensation. He was pulled out of his trance by loud chortle of the teen.

"Jin! You scared me half to death..."

"You should've seen your face, dude." She chuckled while pulling her wet hair away from her face. "But it is not that bad, is it?"

Poli looked around. He was almost fully covered in salty water and... it actually felt nice. The sea was so crystal clear and refreshing. It reminded him of those rare moments when he got to 'swim' with his mother. He even managed to forget how good it felt.

"No, it's.. It's actually great!" The rookie exclaimed with a cheery tone as he moved his hands around, feeling the sea that embraced him so nicely. Jin returned his excitement with a gleeful smile as she swam beside her friend.

"I told you you'd love it!"

"Yeah, but.."

Now that he felt much more confident in the water, Poli was up to some fun bussines. And the first thing on his list was taking revenge on the girl.

"You didn't have to drag me like that, you know?" Getting Jin's attention, the robocar raised his hand into the air. "I say we should be even. How about you get this?!" His metal hand landed .on the surface with a great force. That of course, created a big wave that splashed the inventor all over.

"Hey--" She shouted, struggling to get the water and her hair out of her way. "See you're feisty. I challenge you to a splash battle!"

"Challenge accepted."

That was the start of a long 'battle' between the two. Both splashing eachother and diving into the blue. Laughing loudly and catching everyone's attention. But neither seemed to care. Who would when you live in the moment?

Soon however, came the time to get dry. Poli found himself sitting on the colourful towel in the shade of a palm tree, salty water still dripping from his frame. Despite playing so long in the sea, he still wasn't used the the brightness of the beach. The sun was so hot, almost burning. How can anyone like just getting cooked underneath it?

"Hey, Pols. Got us some ice-cream!" He was pulled out of trance by the same jovial voice he grew so accustomed to. Jin walked up to the rookie, holding two paper cups of ice-cream in hands. "I wasn't sure what taste you wanted, so I bought you a chocolate one."

Poli carefully took the cup from her hands, mumbling soft thank yous (he still felt awkward when anyone bought something for him). Using the tiny spoon, he tasted the offered treat. Soft, sweet and refreshing! Once he was ready to finish with the dessert, he got interrupted.

"You'd better get out in the sun or you might as well catch a cold."

The rookie glanced at the inventor. She got all comfortable on her own towel, lying underneath the hot sun without a care in the world. Only patting on the sand next to her, inviting Poli to sit closer.

"And you're gonna get burned." He mumbled.

"Oh yeah? At least it will be worth it. And it's a thousand times better that walking with a sore throat."

The robocar rolled his eyes at the sentence. Looks like there's no escape from this, is there? He moved his towel closer to hers, covering his face with his palm. Even if his blue eyes were as robotic as he himself, they were still sensitive to light.

"Forgot your sunglasses?" The teen leisurely asked.

"Not like I had any at all..."

Poli slightly peeks at the girl through his squinted eyes. Was she crazy? Just lazily lying in such heat, without even a hat to protect her poor head, biting on her melting ice-cream from time to time. Was she not bothered?

"Hey, Jin. I kinda wanted to ask you something.." He said, making Jin face him with a curious look. "How come you like sitting in the sun so much? It's so bright and... Doesn't it like, annoy you at times?"

Her puzzled expressions soon changed into a soft smile as she rested her head back onto the fuzzy towel.

"Nah, I enjoy it." She simply replied. "There's this thing, I like to call it getting sun drunk."

"Sun... Drunk.. But you're not allowed to drink alcohol yet--"

"No, silly! Think of it as sunbathing but a little different. Its, uh.. When you spend in the sun for long enough and it heats you up, you just feel warm and comfy. Kinda light headed and sleepy even. And you get to think and talk about everything and nothing at all. That's what I like..."

Poli was amazed by her ramble. Was it her sun addiction or was it just her ability to appreciate the little things, something that he was unable to do for some while now. Rotting in his own house really did tricks to him. No wonder Jin was so desperate to get out of the four walls.

But now she was in her nature. Beaming like the biggest star itself.

"Wow. I... I never really thought about it. It's not like I get out of bed this often to know..."

The teen gave him a reassuring smile while slightly patting him on his back.

"Well, at least you're outside now." For a moment she pondered about what to say next, saving both of them from the awkward silence. "Would you like to try it? Getting sun drunk I mean."

"I could.. How do I do it?"

"Just relax and try to enjoy the sun!"

That simple? Poli followed the instructions of the inventor. Lying and getting cozy, he closed his eyes.

He didn't have to wait for long. The sun did its tricks itself. Bathing the blue and white car in the warmest of embraces. Poli felt his body nicely heating up. The so promised lightness hit him very soon. It was so serene. The rookie didn't even notice how he hit the snooze. A peaceful slumber. The nicest one he had so far. Maybe the sun isn't that bad after all? The sun isn't that different from the stars.

"It's a disaster!" A raspy male voice echoed through the walls of the building. The two roommates were back in their apartment, now showering eachother with soothing creams. Their skin and metal full of red burns.

"We really forgot about the sunscreen..." Mumbled Jin with the same raspy voice while applying cream on Poli's back. "Hey, at least it was worth i--"

Suddenly a loud sneeze bursted out of the girl. She quickly covered the mouth with her elbow, preventing the germs from spreading around the room.

"What was that?" Poli asked. " 'Come sit in the sun, Poli. You're gonna get sick.' "

"I don't sound like that."

The two of them bursted out with laughter, brushing off the situation with light hearted jokes they made. That was, until Poli too sneezed a few times.

"That's a jackpot, dude. Both crispy and chilly."

"I'd be just sick if I didn't come sunbathing."

"Well, nobody forced you to. At least I'll get to stay home with you more."

"Yeah..." A sudden realisation sunk into him. Right. The girl's day off was over. Soon it'd be back to her overworking before coming home only to care for a pathetic robot.

He didn't want that. Not for her, not for him. Plus, it felt so nice just being outside. He wanted to be out more, to experience the long forgotten excitement of the little things around them.

"Hey, Sunny. When you have time... Would you like to go out again? We could go anywhere."

Her eyes met his in a matter of seconds. Eyes so full of hope and disbelief at the sentence. Did their hangout have an effect on him? Whatever is the answer, Jin was happy.

"Yeah, I'd love that."

"Then I guess it's settled. And, Jin... Thanks for taking me out."

"It's nothing, Freckles. I'm just glad you enjoyed yourself."

#robocar poli #poli #robocar poli jin #jin #robocar poli fanfiction #robocar poli oneshot #rcp fanfiction #fancfiction #oneshot #writing

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burning-academia-if · 1 year ago

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Muahah!! You've been visited by a ghost of old IF ask past! I'm gonna bring back some iconic ones <3

So you know this scenario "MC asks whether or not they look pretty (gn) and RO finds out it's for a date"? Maybe I'm tweaking but I couldn't find it via search here i swear

BUT this is not the end!

What if MC seeing ROs reaction gently smiles at them and says: "Well, actually, it's for our date... If you'll have me"

Can we get poly reactions too? :3

teehee, thank you for your wonderful work dear author!

I answered the og ask here actually! Here's the variant version! Also I think you're the first person whose asked for poly reactions lol for the poly reacts assume the ROs have already had the feelings convo between them lol

Rook: He takes a breath, one wave of emotions replaced by another. He presses his lips together, every atom screaming in him to run away, but he can't. He couldn't deny how hard his heart twisted when you said you were going on a date. It isn't a good idea, he knows this. Yet, he can't stop himself, "...If you're fine with me."

Beck: He pauses for a moment, the faint wisp of disappointment fading and a smile blooming on his face. His voice is as gentle as yours, "Did you really think I'd say no to you?" He lets himself savor the moment, heart in bloom.

Rhea: She goes still, words failing her. Her hands still at where she'd been adjusting your shirt collar, and she's suddenly hyper aware of your warmth. Her eyes drift towards yours, and their just a little wide. Her voice is soft, "...Really?" She feels suspended in this moment with you.

Zoe: "...Huh?" Comes their intelligent response, brain trying to catch up after the initial stab of emotions. Them and you, on a date? Where would the two of you go, where do you want to go, what would it even be like- They put a halt to their racing thoughts as they realized they haven't given you a proper answer. They stumble over their words, "Y-yeah! I'd really like that!"

Lars: The initial annoyance at needing to appraise your date attire melts away to something unreadable. He stares at you hard, like he's expecting you to turn it into a joke or take it back. But there is nothing but sincerity plain on your face. He folds his arms across his chest, "Are you sure?" At your nod, he almost smiles, "Then let's go, then." He pulls you forward before you can protest.

???: They go still, the dark emotions like sludge in their bloodstream vanishing. They drift closer to you, voice quiet, "If I'll have you? MC, there are moments I think I was made for you." They stay a breath away, a question on their tongue. Is it just a date? Or do you have something more to confess. Perhaps it doesn't matter. For now, they'll just enjoy this.

Poly:

Rook/???: The Voice almost laughs, warm and bright, as they say "Both of us? I suppose we are bound together, aren't we?" When they reach for you, Rook steps forward as well, his eyes only on you, "Of course I'll have you." It's the most forward as ever been with you, especially in the realm of feelings. It's like the three of you fell into the inevitable.

Beck/Rook: Beck gives a soft smile, but he doesn't move towards you. Instead he practically pushes Rook forward, whispering something to him. You can't catch it, the faint "It's ok." Beck offers him. Rook frowns at him, before turning to you and saying, "If that's what you want." Beck's voice is a little teasing, "He means yes, obviously." Rook swats at him as he ducks away, a surprisingly warm atmosphere settling over you all.

Rhea & Zoe: "Oh! Darling, do you mean it?" Rhea presses her hands together, before nudging a shell shocked Zoe. They jump, clearly fighting for words. Rhea shakes her head at them, before saying with a smile matching your own, "We'll have you, always."

#em answers #ch: rook #ch: beck #ch: rhea #ch: zoe #ch: lars #ch: ???#poly: a sin so holy #poly: a light too bright #poly: the universe crumbles

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magicalgirlagency · 7 months ago

Note

What about Wonder Woman? The most underappreciated member of DC’s holy trinity.

To be sincere, it's kinda hard for me to articulate my feelings towards Wonder Woman without sounding like a bumbling gay mess. I mean, come on; a warrior lady born out of clay who comes from an island of women and only women?!? Whose IRL inspirations come from a poly triad in a healthy relationship with BDSM?!? And how come I have spent a large majority of my life without knowing all of this?!? And people get angry about her being canonically bi?!?

Anyways, I adore Wonder Woman. I adore how she's equally fierce and caring, how she still believes in the goodness of the world and is willing to fight for it all, even after witnessing the horrors of war and death, showing how she's strong not just in the physical sense, but also in the emotional sense (clearly stronger than most of us).

Not to mention how her in-universe origins are an interesting blend of greek mythos with jewish roots, as well as early feminist ideals and the simple but effective subversion of the Damsel in Distress trope. When I think of non-condenscending Girl Power, I instantly think of Wonder Woman.

The 2017 movie reignited my passion of the character, but everything would crumble down after the sequel (which it's sad, considering that I've bought a WW84 shirt prior to the movie's premiere). But the good side is that it eventually has helped me discover Lynda Carter's Tumblr blog!

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soaps-mohawk · 10 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 35: Threads

Summary: Pack bonds are made up of delicate threads, small fibers webbing together the dynamics and relationships that make up each individual pack. The omega stands in the middle, holding the pieces together, keeping the pack from crumbling by clinging to those threads like a strongman holds pillars up with chains.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,752 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, descriptions of physical pain, brief description of drowning, medical stuff, panic, crying, panic attacks, nightmares, PTSD, very heavy emotions, alcohol and brief mention of alcoholism, language, fighting (not physically), Kyle being the best boy, aftermath of trauma, brief mentions of the events of the previous chapter, guilt and shame, angst, and finally some comfort after the hurt (but not quite what you'd expect)

A/N: So I may have been slightly wrong, the angst isn't over, but it's not quite as intense as it has been. There are little tidbits of comfort in this one, though it's not like "okay it's over, let me wrap you in this blanket and everything is fine and happy now". It's...you'll see. If you're waiting for the fine and happy comfort then...you might want to wait a few chapters still. The comfort will come on slowly, but it has officially started.

11/30/24: **This chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Screaming.

Someone is screaming.

It hurts your ears, high-pitched and ringing. Your hands cover them, but even that can’t block out the sound.

It’s ringing in your own head.

Your body hurts, every joint and muscle aching and throbbing. They’ve been locked in place too long, frozen in one position, a safe position. Safety. That’s what you’re seeking, that’s what you’re trying to find. That’s why you’re here.

This isn’t a safe space anymore.

The walls are crumbling, the darkness is fading. There’s light seeping in, threatening to pull you out, make you face whatever is waiting on the other side. It’s not a comforting light, it’s bright and piercing and threatening. You don’t want to leave the darkness. You don’t want to face the light. You want to stay there, stay frozen, stay safe.

Your throat burns, raw and painful with every breath.

It’s you.

You’re screaming.

Hands are flying, mouth open in a scream. It’s a horrible sound, grating and feral sounding. Your body twists and turns as they try to hold you down. No restraints. You’ll just hurt yourself more.

Blood is flying, splattering on the gurney, the floor, the walls. Yours or someone else’s? It’s hard to tell.

Simon.

“Simon!”

He snaps out of his daze, his eyes darting up to look at Dr. Keller across the gurney. Her hand is around his wrist, your elbow knocking against his forearm as you try to fight whatever it is you think you’re seeing. Maybe you’re seeing nothing at all.

“I know.” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft despite the chaos of the moment. Her gaze is firm but comforting. She knows. “I need you to hold her still. She’s going to hurt herself further if she can’t calm down.”

She’s going to hurt someone else too.

The monitors are beeping and screaming. They managed to get a blood pressure cuff around your arm before you snapped out of the daze he’d put you in and started fighting. You’re like a wild animal, cornered and fighting for your life again with a renewed vigor. Renewed for now. If you don’t calm down again, something will give out.

There won’t be any coming back from that.

“Don’t be afraid if you hurt her.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing his wrist. “Bones can be fixed.”

He catches your wrists in his hand, pinning them down against your chest. He uses his weight to his advantage, pushing his arm into you as he leans down so you’re face to face. You let out another scream, fighting against him but he has you beat. He’s bigger, stronger, calmer.

“Look at me.” He says, his alpha rumbling low in his chest. It has even the beta nurses stopping in their tracks to look at him. The only one unaffected is Dr. Keller as she uses this moment to her advantage.

You stop fighting him, breathing in heavy gasps as you stare right up into his eyes. Wild and untamed, pupils dilated in your aggressive state. Dilated out of aggression or dilated out of fear? Perhaps both. Beads of sweat slide down your face, your body hot under his. It mixes with the blood on your skin, blood from your own injuries and from the Shadows you killed. Your cheek is bruised, discolored from broken blood vessels. Your left eye will swell shut soon. He needs to get you calm before then.

It’s almost cute, the way you bare your teeth up at him. He might have thought it cute in a different setting, if your life wasn’t dangling over a ledge right now. A low growl rumbles in your chest, a warning that has his own hackles raising. He bares his teeth back, an answering growl, deeper and angrier, rumbles in his own chest. The nurses take a step back. Even Dr. Keller pauses at the sound.

Yet, despite the threat in his growl, it doesn’t deter you one bit. Your knee drives into his side, making him grunt from the impact, but he doesn’t let up. You’re fighting him again, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold. If he pushes any harder, he might break a rib. You’re going to break something if you don’t stop.

You’re too far gone to recognize anything but fear and danger. You’re only going to fight, only going to attack anything you perceive as a threat. You won’t even recognise him. He has to get you to calm down before you have a heart attack. He considers getting one of the nurses to bring Johnny in, but there’s no guarantee that will work. You’ll just perceive him as another threat, another danger. More people in the room will only make you more aggressive...make your omega more aggressive.

He’s not dealing with you. He’s dealing with your omega in her raw form, the animal deep underneath forced out of her hiding place. Whoever said omegas are weak never had to face one in this state.

He stares down at you as you fight and scream, battering his side with your knees but he can hardly feel the pain. His arm is still throbbing where you bit him, but he can hardly see the blood streaked on his skin.

He has to save you.

He can’t let all of this go to waste.

They’ll never recover if they lose you now.

He moves almost seamlessly, time seeming to slow as he lets you go. He unclips his vest and rips it over his head in one movement, uncaring as it hits the floor with a heavy thud. You lunge up at him but he’s ready, catching you before your lower body can leave the gurney. It’s a risk. A huge risk, but it’s all he can think of doing. It’s hardly the worst place to be if things go wrong, if this fails. If he does fail, at least he’ll know he tried.

He pushes his mask up to his chin, pressing your face right into his neck.

Your nose pushes against his scent gland as he cups the back of your head, holding you there. He projects his scent as strong as he can, hoping it can reach some deep part of your mind, some glimmer of you that’s left in there.

If this goes wrong, you’ll rip out skin and veins with your teeth. He’ll bleed out on the floor before they can even get him on a gurney.

He wraps his other arm around you, holding you as still as he can. Tears prick his eyes as he holds you, shoving away the beeping machines, the panic still thrumming inside of him. Scruffing you was only round one of this fight. He should have held it longer, should have been brave enough to do it a second time.

He can still feel it, your neck in his hand, the way you gave in so easily. You had no choice, he gave you none. It was necessary, it was vital that he did it. You wouldn’t have made it this far if he hadn’t.

He should do it again. It would be easy, just slip his hand down and squeeze and you’ll be gone, lost in your head again and under his control. Maybe then he’d get you to calm down, get you out of this state and free from the danger looming closer and closer.

Heart attack, stroke, organ failure.

Why couldn’t Price be the one to go after you? Why couldn’t it be Price standing here making this decision.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers before slipping his hand down, wrapping it around the back of your neck again.

Pain.

You’re in pain.

You try to fade away again, try to push yourself back into the darkness to avoid the pain, but you can’t.

There’s no escaping it.

Your body hurts, every joint and muscle throbbing. Fire licks at your very cells, burning hot through your veins, scorching your skin. Safety. You want safety again. You want to retreat back into yourself, back into the comfort only the darkness can offer you.

Nowhere is safe anymore.

Tears are rolling down your cheeks, the light pressing closer and closer. It’s somewhere above you, shining down in offending shades of white. You can see it behind your eyelids no matter how hard you try to squeeze them together. There’s no escaping this light. There’s no retreating back into safety. There’s no safety anymore.

You’re underwater, slowly rising to the surface. There’s sounds around you, muffled and dampened by the water. You need to breathe, you need to inhale precious oxygen but you can’t get to the surface fast enough. Lungs burning, your fingers claw at the water but you can’t reach it, you can’t swim fast enough.

Your hands curl into soft fabric as you cough, choking on imaginary water. There’s warmth surrounding you, pressed in on all sides. You’re leaning against something, something hard and solid and warm. The sounds are louder now, mixing into a convoluted cocktail of constant noise. You hate it.

Pain ripples through your throat as you let out a groan, the sound catching and cracking on the rough edges of your vocal chords. Another choked sound leaves your lips, pain rippling through your very nerves. The skin on your face is burning, simmering ashes being fanned by every tear sliding down your cheeks.

You’re crying.

There’s a deep sound coming from under you. It’s vibrating against your body, your pulsing ears focusing on that sound. It’s familiar. You’ve heard it before, somewhere back in the recesses of your mind.

Your mind.

It’s there. You can feel it beginning to take shape, thoughts beginning to form out of the fractured darkness. You’re not in your mind anymore, your mind is in you. You’re a being inside of a body, a body wracked with pain. The urge to retreat back is strong, but you can’t. That part of you has been closed off, sealed away by the light.

Fingers and toes twitch, tingling and throbbing with the cold despite the fire blazing its way through your veins. It is cold, your hand pulling at the softness you’re clinging to. The low vibration begins again, rumbling through you, igniting something in the back of your mind.

You know it. It’s familiar.

Something tingles in the back of your mind, starting to come to life. Despite the agony there’s something in there, something warm and comforting. There’s no name for it, no thought flashing through the swirling mass of neurons slowly taking shape. It’s soft and warm and whispering to you.

Wake up.

Wake up!

Your eyes open before you can stop them. You’re immediately blinded, eyes throbbing from the bright white light above you, a high pitched whine leaving your lips. It rattles through your throat, broken and squeaking through your shredded trachea. You clench your eyes shut again, wincing away from the intrusive light, the movement sending a bolt of pain through your body like an electric shock. You let out another garbled sound, your fist tugging on the fabric it’s clenching.

“I know, I’m sorry sweetie.” A voice says, the light disappearing before another takes its place, softer and lighter and less painful.

Your eyes crack open again, still throbbing despite the light being removed. Your entire body is throbbing, pulsing like an exposed nerve. You feel like an exposed nerve, weak and vulnerable. It triggers something deep in your brain, the light starting to dim. Something is rising, something is coming. You want to lay back, let it take over, let it take control. You want to sink into the darkness again. The darkness is safe, the darkness is secure.

The beeping is getting louder. Beeping, that’s what that sound is. There’s something beeping. It’s getting faster and faster. You’re starting to go numb, the tingling in your fingers and toes fading away. It’s not so cold anymore, the ache in your limbs fading into oblivion. You’re fading into oblivion.

“Oi! None of that.”

You’re awake. You let out a disgruntled sound as the warmth and comfort leaves you, deserting you in favor of retreating into the recesses of your mind again. A shiver runs down your spine, your very skin tingling with pinpricks of pain as it goes.

“Open your eyes again for me, love.”

Your body moves before you can tell it not to, your eyes fluttering open again. You’re squinting despite the bright light being gone. Any light is too much, your mind seeking out the comforting darkness once more.

Darkness makes you vulnerable.

In the dark, you’re blind to things that may be hiding there.

No.

No more darkness.

You want the light.

Scents flood your brain as your eyes fully open, slamming into you like a wave. It’s too much, nearly choking you again as you try to register everything. The burning scent of sterilizer, the soft scent of clean linens, the harsh scent of chemicals. There’s a soft scent mixing in with the others, something easing the turmoil in your mind just slightly. Above all else, though, is the intense smell of leather and something soft and fresh. It overpowers almost all of them, standing out distinctly. It makes your nose throb, something tickling in the back of your mind. You’re afraid of the scent, yet...there’s something else. Something...familiar.

“Back with us yet?” The sound rumbles under you again.

“Nearly there.” Another voice says. “Heart rate is coming down again. Still feverish, though.”

You’re suddenly aware of your body again, the pains, the aches, the burning, the cold. You’re trembling, your skin prickling from how cold it is. You try to press forward against the warmth in front of you, but the movement has pain slashing through your very cells. Another pathetic whine tears through your throat, every movement sending stabbing pain through your very being.

“C...C-Cold.” You manage to croak out, the word forming clumsily on your tongue. It feels heavy, like you’re relearning how to speak.

“I know.” The softer voice says, something dragging across your skin. “We’re trying our best.”

Something moves against your back, dragging against your skin. Whatever it is, it’s warm, but it’s rough. You push into it, something telling you to get closer, to wrap yourself in it and let it suffocate you. Somehow it’s comforting to you, somehow it’s familiar.

Slowly thoughts and sensations begin to return to you, your mind dragging itself from the depths it had sunk into.

It was purposeful.

You did it to save yourself.

You’re shaking for a different reason now, suddenly aware of the parts of your body that ache the most. Your shoulder, your cheek, your throat, your wrists. There’s a deep chill that has settled in your bones, sinking past the fever and the pain, past the memories beginning to resurface, past the hopelessness and the anger and the fear.

“Simon?” You croak out, the name burning its way through your dry throat. You desperately want something to drink, anything to ease the burning desert in your mouth.

“It’s me, love.” The sound rumbles under you again.

Leather. Eucalyptus. Warmth. Alpha.

You groan, trying to shift closer but the tensing of your muscles has pain screaming through your body. A shuddering breath leaves your lips, your body tensing until it passes.

“Try not to move too much.” The other voice says, a hand coming to rest on your arm. You’re still clutching Simon’s sweatshirt in your hand like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this earthly plane.

It might be.

“Dr. Keller?” You croak out, recognizing that voice.

“I’m here too sweetie.” She says somewhere behind you. “Take it easy, you’ve had a rough go of it.”

She’s not wrong.

The memories are coming back slowly, each one playing through your head like an episode of some fucked up television show. Except, it isn’t a television show. It’s your life.

You hate it.

“John?” You ask, trying to get your tongue to work, but you desperately need water.

“Probably yelling at every person who crosses his path.” Simon says. “He was blazing a path to hell and back earlier trying to get ahold of anyone he could yell at involved in this.” He rubs your back. “He’ll be here as soon as he’s calmed down. Kyle and Johnny are working overtime trying to help restrain him.”

You'll always be a second thought.

“You?” You ask, unable to form the whole question you want to ask. Why are you here and not with your pack?

He's quiet for a moment. “We got here before John and Kyle did.” His hand stills against your back, palm pressing below your shoulder blades. “You wouldn't let anyone close to you. The doc said it's normal, coming out of that state. I had to help keep you calm so you could get patched up. Then you wouldn't let me leave.”

Your fingers ache from how hard they're gripping his sweatshirt. He stayed. He's the one here with you, not your alpha.

You let out a groan, the pain starting to intensify. There’s a throbbing in your calf, and a deep ache starting to pulse in your joints. You’re almost glad for it, the turmoil in your mind starting to twist and fog your thoughts pushed aside in favor of the pain screaming at the forefront of your brain.

“Time for more pain medicine.” Dr. Keller says somewhere behind you. “You’ll probably get sleepy, but rest is what you need right now.”

You let out another groan, pressing your face back against Simon’s chest. Despite the pain in your body, there’s an even deeper ache in your chest. It’s not a physical one. Your alpha isn’t here. He’s left you again, abandoned you in favor of something else, something he deems more important.

Tears are brimming in your eyes as they slip closed, the exhaustion and the drowsiness from the pain medicine taking over.

It’s not quite so cold when you wake up next. It’s brighter in the room, the light not quite so artificial as it had been the first time. There’s no body against yours, no warmth seeping into your skin or scent in your nose. Your fingers twitch, almost like they want to seek it out again.

You’re alone.

You let out a quiet breath, your brows furrowing. Your shoulder aches, throbbing in time with the beep of the heart monitor. It hurts less to move as you shift your arm to itch the other. It’s horribly itchy, but your fingers meet gauze instead.

Right. Phil had cut you there. Not very deep, but still deep enough to hurt. Just another injury to add to the list.

You try to lift your arm but burning pain shoots through your shoulder. You wince, letting out a quiet moan of pain as you drop it back into the bed. You breathe as the pain shoots through you, swirling through your veins before it begins to settle.

“You shouldn’t try to move too much.” A voice cuts through the silence.

Your head whips to the side, your arm shooting out to grip the side rail as pain burns through your body like lava. It seeps slowly from your left shoulder down to your toes and into your very hair follicles. You let out another groan of pain, your eyes squeezing closed as you wait for it to pass.

“Sorry.” The voice says softly. “I suppose that didn’t help any.”

You open your eyes, still breathing heavily as the pain begins to fade. Your hand is still wrapped around the side rail as you stare at John. He’s seated next to the bed, his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. He looks tired, eyes puffy with dark circles around them. He’s in a simple green shirt and cargo pants, yet he’s not quite as put together as he normally is. His hair is sticking up in different directions, his beard scruffier than normal. There’s a faint pink line of what was probably once a cut on his cheek.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him in weeks.

You should be happy.

You should be ecstatic.

You should be relieved.

Yet, all you can feel is pain and anger and betrayal.

“There’s nothing I can say that will make this better.” He says, his voice rougher than usual, even after returning from a deployment. His eyes shine with emotion. You hate it. “There’s nothing I can say that will undo what happened.” He runs a hand over his mouth, letting out a breath through his nose. “This shouldn’t have happened in the first place. We should have known better, we should have questioned it.” He shakes his head. “We put too much trust in those above us, and we were all fooled.”

Tears blur your eyes as you stare at him. He’s not just talking about Shepherd and the initiative. He’s talking about you too.

“I regret it more than any decision I’ve ever made. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life,” He continues. “You put your trust in me, and I failed you. I let this happen to you because I chose to follow blindly instead of thinking about the good of my pack. You’re here because of me, because of the decisions I made. I had one job, and now you’re paying for my failure.”

He pauses for a moment, tears shining in his own eyes. You should feel surprise, sympathy, something. All you can feel is hatred. He doesn’t deserve to cry over you. He doesn’t deserve this chance to try and explain himself to you, to try and give excuses for his actions. He made his choice. He made it very clear where his loyalties lie, where they’ve always been, where that line was laid before he even claimed you. It was never about you. Nothing was ever about you. It was always the initiative, and then when the initiative turned out to be false, it was about the ‘greater good’. You should have been the greater good. You should have been their focus. Instead they all betrayed you.

They betrayed you in the end.

“I made a bad call.” He continues on. “I shouldn’t have left so quickly. I shouldn’t have allowed you to be left alone. Now you’re here, like this, because I made a stupid mistake.”

He stares at you for a long moment, as if he’s waiting for you to say something, as if you should have something to say in response. He’s waiting for an acceptance to his half-assed apology, as if his words can somehow undo the pain, the burning in your wrists, the throbbing in your shoulder, the agony every time you simply move a limb. As if his half-assed apology can somehow undo the weeks of depression and anguish and the worry and the fear. As if his half-assed apology can make up for the way they all cut you off, treating you like a traitor before abandoning you. As if his half-assed apology can undo the hours and hours of torment and pain the man you once thought of as a family friend unleashed on you all because of them.

The hatred burns almost as hot as the lava in your veins, so hot you’re surprised the tear that slides down your cheek doesn’t start sizzling. Your heart rate is picking up again, the monitor beeping with the sound of the anger simmering inside of you. The blood pressure cuff squeezes around your arm, a grunt of pain cracking in your throat.

“Yeah,” You say, your voice hardly more than a whisper. You turn your head away from him, wincing as an electric shock of pain jolts through you from the motion. You drop your hand from the side rail before he can touch you, tucking your arm back under the rough blanket. “You did.”

You have nothing more to say to him.

John enters the room solemnly, the silence nearly palpable as they all wait in anticipation. They’re all looking at him, waiting patiently for their captain, their alpha, to speak. They always look to him, they always rely on him, they always trust him and now look where he’s led them. So rarely does he make the wrong decision, so rarely does he lead them astray.

What happened this time?

Why did he fall into the trap so easily? Why did he so easily turn his back on you?

What words are there to say? He knew his words would do little to calm the raging storm inside of you, the hurt and the pain and the betrayal they put you through all because of him.

The rejection still hurts, but it should. They all rejected you as soon as they left you behind.

It’s only a fraction of the pain you must be feeling.

“How is she?” Kyle asks, breaking the tense silence.

“Upset.” He sighs, sinking down in a chair.

“Fuckin’ sure she is.” Johnny snaps, anger radiating off of him in steaming waves. He’s been on edge, they all have, since the four of them were reunited. He had been there, stuck in the hall as you screamed and fought. He thought the worst when your screams cut off until he was finally updated by one of the nurses leaving the room. “Of course she doesnae want to see any of us! We just fucking left her, just like that, and it was your fuckin’ fault!”

Simon grabs his beta before he can throw a fist at John, holding him back. Johnny lets out a string of curses none of them understand, fighting against his alpha. Simon holds him tightly, the image of your bloody form fighting against him still at the forefront of his mind. He grips Johnny tightly, muscles straining. Johnny is bigger. Johnny is stronger.

He has half a mind to let him go.

John doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch as Johnny yells and rages. He’d welcome a good beating right now. He could use some physical pain to distract from the ache in his chest.

“Calm down,” Kyle says, getting in Johnny’s face. “I said calm down!” Kyle yells, Johnny stilling for a moment. It’s not often Kyle raises his voice at one of them. “We’re not doing any good being upset with each other. We all made mistakes over these last few weeks, especially these past few days. None of us are guilt free in this. We all have our omega’s blood on our hands. Fighting amongst ourselves will only fray the bonds more than they already have been.”

Johnny deflates with a sigh, standing there in Simon’s arms for a moment. Kyle is right. They all can feel it, the way their bonds are fraying. Their pack is resting on a dangerous ledge, tipping back and forth with every strong emotion, every argument, every sour feeling. They’re all holding onto that bond, trying to pull it back to keep it from falling into the abyss. As angry as they are with each other, just one of them letting go will be the end of the pack.

“There’s nothing we can do to change what happened.” John says, looking up at the other three. “Kyle’s right. I made the decision to trust those we were suspicious of. We can’t undo what happened to us, we can’t undo what we did, we can’t undo what we...” He lets out a breath. “What I let happen to our omega.”

“She won’t trust us again.” Simon says, his hands still shaking as he releases Johnny. They haven’t stopped shaking since he scruffed you a second time. “I don’t doubt Graves played with her head, convinced her we chose to leave her there with him.”

“She won’t trust us.” John affirms, no matter how badly it hurts him. “She won’t forgive us either. The best we can do is to give her what she needs, what she wants. Right now that’s space. Dr. Keller will keep us updated as things develop.” He pushes himself up to stand, looking at each member of his team, of his pack. They all share the same guilty look on their faces, they all hold the same anger at themselves deep inside. “This may be the hardest mission we’ve ever had. No matter what we feel...none of that matters anymore. What matters is keeping our pack together. What matters is that we keep those bonds from fraying. We lose ourselves, we lose everything.”

“Still sore?”

You nod, wincing as it sends a bolt of pain through your body.

“I know.” Dr. Keller says, adjusting the ice pack on your shoulder. “Hurts like a bitch, but luckily it won’t cause any lasting damage.”

You blink at Dr. Keller, staring at her for a beat. You don’t think you’ve ever heard her curse before. You’re not sure she was ever capable of it.

“What? I use swear words. Sometimes.” She says, almost like she can read your thoughts. “Sometimes expletives fit the moment better than any flouncy, sophisticated words do. This feels like the proper situation to use some.” She lets out a sigh. “Your shoulder will be the worst of the pain, at least physically. The mental pain...well, that’s not something I can treat with pain medicine. Shouldn’t, would be the proper wording there.”

Some people do use it to numb the pain.

“We all made a lot of bad decisions these last few days. Your support system, those you were supposed to be able to trust, failed you.” She stares down at you, emotion shining in her eyes. It’s a mirror of John’s own stare when he’d looked at you, but this time there’s no anger burning inside of you. Dr. Keller didn’t betray you. Dr. Keller will mean her apology, because you know that’s what’s coming. “I know you’ve probably heard this a lot over the last few hours, but I am sorry too. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that. I shouldn’t have fallen for that phone call...I should have been there.”

You stare up at her, tears pooling in your eyes. If she had stayed, things would have been worse. It was almost better she left you. You can’t lose her. You need her now more than you ever did.

Tears streak a flaming path down your face, a choked sob tearing its way through your trachea up through your lips. It burns your throat, no amount of water you’ve had in the last few hours has been able to ease the ache that’s taken up permanent residence there.

Graves choked you. It’s the bruising from his hand squeezing your windpipe making you ache. Your voice may never recover, may never go back to normal. Crying hurts, hurts more than just your mind, your chest. It hurts your whole body, yet you can’t stop.

“I know, I know.” She says, petting your hair as you sob. “I’m not going anywhere this time. We’ll get through this, okay? It’ll be a long road, but you won’t be walking it alone. You’ve got me, and you’ve got your pack.”

Your gaze hardens at the mention of your pack, the sob in your throat coming out almost as an angry grunt. The thought of them makes your chest ache, the pain of their betrayal burning hot in you. “I don’t want them.” You whisper.

“I don’t blame you.” Dr. Keller says, leaning against the side rail of your bed. “They let you down. The betrayed your trust in a lot of ways. They made you feel abandoned, and then abandoned you when you needed them most, even if they thought they were doing the right thing at the time. You have every right to be angry at them, upset with them. They hurt you in the worst way they could.” She pulls the blanket higher over you, tucking you in. “You’ve gone through a lot these last few days. Some very traumatic events, on top of being injured and your body going through extreme stress. You’re exhausted in every way you can be. Rest first. Worry about everything else later. Doctor’s orders.”

“I did it to myself.” You say before she can walk away.

She turns back to look at you. “What?”

“I made myself distress.” You say. “I made my omega come out.”

“That was very brave of you.” She says, giving you a soft smile. “Sometimes we have to take drastic measures even knowing the risks. You did what you had to in the moment and I think it was the right choice. You didn’t know what was going to happen, what was happening. Things worked out and you’re still here. That’s all that matters.”

You think about her words for a moment. You did make it out. The fact you’re here means someone found you, someone saved you. Someone scruffed you.

“It was Simon, wasn’t it?” You ask, even though you already know the answer to that.

You wouldn’t let him leave.

“You’ll have to ask him for the whole story, but yes. He’s the one that rescued you.” She adjusts the blanket around you again. “Get some rest.” She moves the call button closer. “I’m on the other end of that button if you need me.”

You stare up at the ceiling after she leaves, counting the tiles above you. It looks like every other ceiling you’ve ever seen in a doctor's office or clinic or hospital. It’s not all that different from the ceiling in the med center on base.

Base.

You don’t ever want to see that place again. You don’t want to step foot in the barracks, you don’t even want to think about the clinical sterility of the buildings and the cold comfortless spaces meant for nothing more than to serve their purpose. Just like you. You served your purpose. You proved their point, even if it was never the true point of the initiative. Packs will get stronger with an omega, but it will come at the detriment of that omega.

The job always comes first.

There was a time you thought perhaps it wouldn’t. Maybe they could put it all behind them and put themselves first, put you first. Then they proved they can’t. They won’t even put you first when you’re at the threat of being tortured. You were hurt because they wouldn’t put you first. You are hurt because they wouldn’t put you first.

You don’t care about them. You don’t care about their excuses. You don’t care about the bonds or the claims or the emotions.

You’d be happy if they left you here. Just a few days ago you were panicking about them leaving you, about them deciding you weren’t enough and abandoning you.

Now you wish they would.

“Has she said anything?”

“Not much.” He sighs. “She won’t see any of us. I can hardly blame her.”

“You made a choice, John.” Kate says, hands wrapped around her cup of coffee. “Choices have consequences.”

“You were right. Then again, you usually are. We should have thought twice about that mission. She should have never been left alone like that.” He sips at his tea. Bitter without milk, but then again, he’d prefer a glass of whiskey right now over tea. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“I don’t think you can.” Kate takes a sip of her coffee. “She’s going to decide when she wants you to fix this, if she wants you to fix it.”

John lets out a sigh. “We’re her pack, it’s our job-”

“You’ve failed at your job.” Kate says, her gaze hardening as she stares at him. “You’re good at being a soldier, you’re good at being a leader, you’re good at saving the world, but that’s not your only job. You have a responsibility to take care of your omega, and you failed. You made your choice, and you turned your back on her. She’s not a soldier, John. She’s never been tortured, she’s never been left for dead, she’s never taken a life before and here she’s been through all of that in the span of two days. You made a choice, John. You made a choice knowing damn well what the consequences would be.”

He sits in silence, staring at Kate. It’s not often she gets mad at him, the frustration evident on her face. It’s a mirror of the anger and disappointment on the faces of his packmates. They’re all feeling the weight of his decision, of his mistakes. They’re all feeling the weight of their rapidly fraying bonds.

“You have a choice to make now, John.” She stares at him pointedly. “You pick up the pieces from this, you all take the time to recover and heal. Then what? Things aren’t as simple as we thought they were, John. None of us knew what was going to happen. We were all so focused on the potential benefits that we all overlooked just how much of a detriment this would be. Your omega hasn’t had a choice in anything in her entire life. Every decision has been made for her, whether or not she wanted it. She has had no say in any of this. She’s been nothing more than a variable in an experiment, a statistic, a number, a list of pros and cons. She’s been reduced down to nothing more than an object.”

John winces at her words, the weight on his shoulders growing heavier and heavier. He’s treated you as nothing more than an object, even if not directly. Leaving you so easily, yelling at you when you made an innocent mistake, letting you be taken just like that because he couldn’t get his head out of his own arse far enough to see the truth of what was going on.

“We all know she’s more than that. Far more than that. But she will never have any say in anything, unless you let her. Outside of your pack, she has nothing. In your pack? She should have the loudest voice.” Kate leans her arms on the table, shifting closer to him. “Right now she has no voice because you’ve proven where your loyalties lie, and they’re not with her. You have one more decision to make, John. Do you keep standing where you are, put the job first and wear your omega down until she’s nothing but an empty shell? Or, do you take this chance while you have it and finally put her first?”

Kate pushes herself up to stand, grabbing her cup of coffee. John’s not used to feeling small. He’s used to being in charge, being the captain, being in control. People look to him, they listen to him, he’s the one everyone turns to when things go to shit to lead them out.

He’s not even capable of doing that anymore.

“Your life as you knew it ended as soon as she was placed in your pack. It’s up to you to decide how it continues.” Kate leaves with those heavy parting words, the door clicking shut behind her.

John stares down at his cup of tea, the cup half full, or perhaps half empty depending on how one looks at it. It feels more than half empty now, spilling slowly through some microscopic hole in the side. It’ll only be so long before that hole will widen, worn down by the weak paper the cup is made of, the liquid eating away at the cup until there’s nothing but a puddle of tea on the table, slowly rolling towards the edge to dip onto the floor.

That microscopic hole started as soon as they left you alone for the first time, and none of them were aware enough to even notice it.

That hole is a gaping wound now. The contents inside turned acidic as soon as he cut you off in his disappointment, as soon as he started digging into the belly of the initiative. That acid has been eating away slowly at the fragile bonds that were in place. Fragile. They really were. No matter how strong they all thought those bonds were growing to be, they were built with fear and anxiety and uncertainty. Uncertainty of the future and what it may hold, anxiety towards a new pack and an entirely new shift in lifestyle, and fear of one day losing a pack member.

Bonds built upon such frailty can hold no weight should one piece fall.

How strong can bonds really be when you live with that knowledge, that constant fear that someone could die at any time? Someone in the pack, someone you’ve bonded with, someone you’ve grown a relationship with, might leave and never return because of the risks of their job. How strong can those bonds be? Was that the point of the experiments all along, the 141 and the initiative? Testing the limits a pack could be pushed to, testing if bonds could be formed in such a high stress environment and if so, how strong they’d be? What limits would they have gone to, to test that theory? Would they have gone to the point of sacrificing one of them to test those theories, had the truth not come out when it did? One wrong decision, one wrong step in the field and everything can crumble. Would they have gone to that length to test just how a bonded pack would react, if they could still function after everything?

The sacrifice was you.

Kate is right. You’re not part of their world. You’re not a soldier, you haven’t been conditioned to live with that fear, you can’t be conditioned to live with that fear. You shouldn’t have to be conditioned to live with that fear. You had no choice in this. None of it. From the moment you presented, nothing in your life would be yours. From the moment you presented, you would never make a choice for yourself again.

The sacrifice was you.

And he played right into their hands.

The cup is blurring as he stares at it, his eyes blinking rapidly.

They say an omega is the balance that holds a pack together. It’s a delicate bond, a single thread coiled around the structure of the pack. Wear that thread down until it snaps and everything crumbles. How long have you been fraying? How long have you been silently screaming for help, desperately trying to hold the pieces of the pack together like a strongman holds two pillars up by chains? You never had chains, you’ve been holding everything together with sewing thread, fighting desperately to keep the pieces from crumbling at the risk of being torn in half.

How long have you been silently screaming?

It’s all his fault. He’s been wearing you down, he’s been fraying that bond fiber by fiber. He’s been standing there watching you fight to hold the pack together while screaming at him to help, screaming at him to take one of those threads and hold at least half of the weight for you.

That’s what he’s supposed to do.

The threads have snapped. You were torn in half by the weight and those threads are gone. They’re crumbling, the bonds coming undone, unraveling minute by minute, second by second. They’re losing each other because they lost you.

He covers his face with his hands, not even bothering to try and silence his sobs.

Something has pulled you from the sweet arms of sleep.

It’s dark in the room, the only light coming from the one behind the bed. The curtains are drawn over the window, keeping you hidden from the darkness outside the window. It’s late, or at least you think it is. You can’t quite see the clock in the darkness with your one good eye. It’s fuzzy in the darkness, too far away for you to truly find where the hands lie.

Shadows fill the corners of the room, oppressive and claustrophobic. The longer you stare, the bigger they seem to grow as if they might suck the light right out of the room and swallow you in darkness. The longer you stare, the more it seems like there’s something there, something hidden in the darkness.

Something is staring at you from the shadows. There’s eyes on you, your skin prickling from the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. The more you stare into the darkness, the more the shadows begin to take shape, forming monstrous beasts just being held at bay by the light.

“Hi, darlin’.”

No. No, no, no, no.

“Miss me? It’s been a long time.”

You shake your head, your heart monitor starting to beep rapidly as your heart pounds in your chest. “N-No.”

Phil sits forward in the chair in the corner, his face coming into the light. It is him, blonde hair, blue eyes, that disarming grin on his face. He can’t be here...unless he escaped before your pack could catch him. Did they manage to catch him? You don’t know. You hadn’t even thought to ask about Phil or his whereabouts. No one informed you either.

“No? You didn’t miss me?” He tilts his head, his eyes shining with faux hurt and disappointment. “That’s not very nice of you to say. I thought your father taught you your manners. Have you forgotten them in the time you’ve been away.” He tsks, shaking his head. “Those boys have been letting you get lazy.”

Your breathing is picking up, panic starting to fill you as you stare at him. It’s impossible. He shouldn’t be here. He can’t be here. He couldn’t have just walked onto base and walked into the medical center, could he? Corporal McKinney fooled everyone for months and drove right off base with you in his car and no one said anything. How much would the guards at the front entrance of the base take as a bribe to let him in?

Why isn’t your pack outside your door? Why would they let him in?

They had to have put out a warning. Someone should have put Phil’s face everywhere, sent out a message, something.

He lets out a sigh, pushing himself to stand. “I guess I’ll have to teach you some manners myself.”

The glint of metal catches your eye, the icepick catching the light as he steps closer.

“No, no,” You shake your head, your fingers scrambling for the call button.

Not again. Please, not again.

Your fingers close around the call button, your thumb pushing it over and over and over again. Someone has to hear it.

He lifts the ice pick, reaching out for you...

You’re being shaken. A scream tears from your lips as you struggle, trying to get away from whoever is holding you. Your body is alight with pain but you wait for more, for the ice pick to drive into your scent gland again, open the wound and light your body on fire once more. You expect it to come down again and again, filling your body with holes so you bleed out on the floor.

Where is your pack?

“Easy, easy. You’re alright.”

You know that voice.

You’re sobbing, your brain slowly beginning to come back into consciousness. You had been asleep. You were dreaming. The light is on in the room, the harsh fluorescent a welcome presence for once. The shadows are gone, dissipated by the bright light overhead. Phil is gone, wiped away with the rest of the shadows.

He’s nowhere to be seen because he wasn’t there in the first place.

It was just a dream. It was just a nightmare.

There’s a hand on yours, gently easing your fingers from the call button. You’re still trying to press it, your thumb moving almost automatically. You started pressing it in your sleep.

“You’re okay. Breathe for me.”

It’s Dr. Keller’s voice. It’s her arms wrapped around you, trying to stop you from moving as much. Your body is screaming in pain, but the panic flooding your body makes you almost numb to it. The pain in your chest is screaming with every rapid inhale, tightening and tightening the more until your fingers and toes start to go numb.

“Deep breaths.” Dr. Keller says, her own breaths slow as she holds you. “In and out.”

The inhale catches, the air shuddering into your lungs before you hold it, trying to force your body to calm down, just like the two of you practiced so many times. The heart monitor is beeping rapidly, another thing that must have translated in your state between wakefulness and sleep when Phil had shown up. Your heart is beating rapidly, thudding in your chest almost violently. It’s been through a lot these last few days. You wouldn’t be surprised if it just gave out suddenly.

“Phil.” You gasp out, still trying to slow your breathing. “Phil was here.”

“It was just a nightmare.” Dr. Keller says calmly, keeping her arms wrapped around you. “No one has come in or out of this room besides me. The guard outside won’t let anyone else in.”

Guard. There’s someone outside the door. Your pack? No. She would have said so.

Where is your pack?

Phil was never here. It was just a nightmare.

The last two thoughts repeat over and over in your head like a mantra as you start to cry, sobs wracking your body. You hate it, the fear, the terror, the anguish you felt as he lifted that ice pick, ready to stab you with it.

“I hate it.” You croak out, voicing your thoughts for the first time in a few hours.

“I know.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s normal to have nightmares after a traumatic event.” She adjusts her hold on you, tucking you against her chest. “It’s your brain trying to process what happened, trying to work its way through the trauma of the last few days. It’s cruel, but it’s a necessary part of healing.”

Healing.

Are you healing? Can you heal after everything? The pain is intense, not just outside but inside as well. The hurt, the anger, the fear, the anxiety, the panic, the depression, the rage, the betrayal. It’s too much. It’s so much all at once. You hate it. You hate that this happened in the first place. You hate that you have to go through this, have to heal, have to live through more nightmares.

You hate your pack. That’s why they’re not here.

For all you know they’ve left you. For all you know they’re on a plane back to the UK.

Why would they want a broken, angry omega?

“I just want to be okay.” You sob, face pressed against her shoulder.

“I know.” She says, cradling the back of your head, keeping you tight in her arms. “I'm so sorry this happened to you. I know words can't change that it happened, words can't make it all better, but we'll get you to where you're as okay as you can be again. I promise you I’ll do everything I can to get you there.” She leans her chin on the top of your head, squeezing you against her chest. “We'll get there, no matter how long it takes.”

How long will it take? How long will your pain and suffering drag on for? Your body will heal eventually, but will your mind? Are you going to be this way for the rest of your life? Will you ever know peace again? But...have you ever really known peace? Your home growing up certainly wasn’t peaceful. Your presentation wasn’t peaceful, and neither was life at the institute. Being chosen by the FBI for this initiative that never existed in the first place certainly wasn’t peaceful. Despite how happy you became with your pack, even that life wasn’t peaceful. What little peace you thought you had was upended in the blink of an eye.

How easily everything crumbled.

Will it be possible to put it all back together again?

Do you want to put it back together again?

Alcohol is easy to find in a place like this. Soldiers gravitate towards whatever crutch they can find to erase the nightmares they live in. It numbs the pain and the brain and keeps one sane, or at least that’s what his father used to say.

Of course his father would drink himself into a stupor every Friday night, and he’d wake Saturday morning still in his chair with a full breakfast waiting for him.

Much like his father, John has lost track of how many times he’s filled his glass.

It’s been a long time since he’s gotten this drunk. He shook that habit after a shameful morning over ten years ago. He’d just gotten back from a bad deployment, one that gets labeled as a “mission gone wrong.” It failed under his command. He lost a lot of lives, not just his fellow soldiers. He’d drunk himself past a stupor and woke up passed out in a bush covered in vomit outside the gate with a rather angry CO over him.

He shook the habit after that, easing himself to just a glass every so often on those days he needs to take the edge off, on those days he needs to numb the aches.

Then Kyle came along. Kyle, his sweet beta with his ethical moral compass. His sweet beta who deserved a better life than what he was pulled into. Dutiful, loyal, principled. A good soldier, but a better man than John could ever be. He could fall into Kyle, bury himself under those soft touches, the soothing whispers, the comfort Kyle could offer him. The screaming in his head became less and less as he allowed Kyle to do what he was meant to do at his core.

Comfort.

Then you came along.

He found himself turning to the liquid medicine less and less because he could bury himself in you. He had an omega, he had someone he could lean on, someone who understood without having to be told. The bond between alpha and omega is something so sacred and special, something to be cherished.

And he threw it all away.

He downs another glass, staring at the almost empty bottle. It had been sealed when he got it, brand new and fresh. He can feel it, the fogginess of alcohol clouding his brain. The world is swirling, melting together. He can’t feel much of anything anymore, yet that pain lingers deep in his chest.

The bond.

It’s like an open wound, gaping and pulsing. Eventually it’ll slow, eventually it’ll give out. That bond will be cut and everything will crumble.

It’s all his fault.

He ended things, he ended the pack, he ended the bond, he ended you.

Would Graves have killed you? Would Shepherd have given those orders if they pushed onward, if they caught up to him? Graves would have done it slowly, taken his time, reveled in it. They would have gotten a video of it, hours long as you were tortured to death, zoomed in on your face as the life left your eyes.

The thought makes his stomach churn. He wants to vomit at the mental picture of you laying there, covered in blood, those lifeless eyes staring at him. Eyes that once shone with life and happiness. Despite everything you had been happy. Despite everything that spark inside you was never extinguished. A fiery little thing that would give what they gave right back to them.

Now you’re not even smoldering.

You’ve been reduced to ashes, and it’s all his fault. It’s all his doing.

He skips the glass this time, drinking straight from the bottle.

“Have you seen John recently?” Kyle asks, standing in the doorway to their temporary living quarters. It’s a single room with two bunk beds. Far too tight of a space for their quickly souring dynamics.

“No, not recently.” Johnny says, lifting his head up from his pillow. He’s been crying again. “You, LT?”

LT. They argued earlier...more like yelled in each others’ faces until they had to be separated at the risk of things getting physical. Kyle’s not even sure what they had been arguing about in the first place. Probably something miniscule and unimportant. Everything seems to be setting them off like grenades. Pull the pin and watch them explode. They’re all on edge, all of them feeling the distance growing wider and wider despite their best efforts to stop it.

“No.” Simon says simply, staring up at the bottom of the bunk over him. He’s flat on his back, hands folded on his stomach. He looks like a corpse, might have been mistaken for one if it hadn’t been for the slow rise and fall of his chest. He’s still in his mask. He hasn’t taken it off since he arrived in the field.

It’s late, but none of them can sleep. None of them have been able to get much sleep since they arrived nearly two days ago. Weeks without good, decent sleep wears on the brain too.

“If he comes back here, text me.” Kyle says before closing the door, resuming his search for their missing captain.

John has been beating himself up for nearly two days now. Kyle’s never seen his captain quite so distraught and lost. He’s blaming himself, which in all fairness, he should be doing. It is his fault. Kyle will be the first to point blame in this situation, but none of them are truly blameless. None of them questioned it, none of them even argued with him on that decision. They followed blindly as they were supposed to for the first time in a long time. They didn’t question their captain, their alpha, their leader.

He hates himself for it.

Why didn’t he question it? Why didn’t he argue? Why didn’t he voice his opinion, fight back against that decision? He trusted his alpha when he shouldn’t have, and you paid for it.

He’s glad he didn’t have to see you. He’s glad he didn’t have to face down the state Johnny and Simon found you in. He’s glad he didn’t have to see what you looked like even after the blood had been cleaned off and the true horror was revealed.

He hasn’t gone to see you at all.

He’s not sure he could handle it. You won’t care either way from the sound of it. You’ve been reduced to a shell, silent and empty. You’ve barely said a word since this morning, instead just lying there and staring at the ceiling according to the doctor when she’d updated them this afternoon.

Your body will heal slowly, but your mind will remain a battleground.

He leaves the barracks, looking up at the dark sky. It’s clear tonight. He’d probably see the stars if there wasn’t constant light pollution around the base. What do the stars look like here? He’s stared up at the stars constantly in the last few weeks in places there was little light pollution. His only comfort about being away from you so long was the knowledge that you were under the same sky. Be it day or night, the stars were overhead. You wouldn’t be able to see them either way, but they were shining for you too.

Now you’re both under the same stars, but you’re both still so far away.

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze. He has a job to do, a captain to find.

“Where are you John?” He breathes, looking in all directions, trying to decide which way to go next. He had stopped in at the med center already, but he wasn’t there. No one had seen him, even the doctor. He’s searched everywhere he could think to search, but his captain is nowhere to be found.

He walks around the side of the barracks, hoping maybe he’ll run into John coming back this way. Usually he wouldn’t bother searching for him, but with his mind how it has been, Kyle can’t help but be worried. Even with the bonds fraying between them, he still has that instinctual need to make sure his alpha is okay. Instincts can’t be ignored. No matter how much bonds between packs fray, instincts will always remain the same.

That’s why he still feels that urge to go and see you.

John will kill him if he requests a base-wide search.

He knows how self-destructive John can be despite how composed he makes himself appear. He’s only seen his alpha in that state once, and he has a feeling he’s about to a second time.

He leans against the wall with a sigh when he reaches the other side of the barracks. Nothing. No sign of him. No texts from Johnny or Simon either. He’d asked Dr. Keller to let him know if he shows up in the med center too, but there’s been nothing. No word. No signs.

Maybe he should just give up looking. John will find his way back to the barracks eventually. Or he won’t.

That could be tomorrow’s problem. A distraction, a mission, something to give them purpose and force them to unite again.

Find their missing captain. Find their missing alpha.

He turns back around to follow the sidewalk back to the front of the barracks when he hears shuffling footsteps dragging on the concrete. He turns, squinting into the darkness between lamps as a figure stumbles through the shadows, muttering under its breath. He knows that voice, he knows that figure.

John.

John stumbles forward, nearly falling but Kyle reaches out, catching him. His mind is racing, silently checking for any blood, any sign of injury, but there’s nothing.

Maybe everything is finally getting to him. Maybe his body has finally been pushed to the limit and it’s giving out. He’s having a medical emergency.

“Easy, sir.” He says, trying to calm his panic as he fights to keep John upright despite John’s body wanting to fall the rest of the way onto the ground. Kyle takes a breath in, catching the sour scent of alcohol wafting off his captain.

Not a medical emergency, then.

He sought out some liquid comfort instead.

The thought makes Kyle’s chest twinge still.

“’S all over.” John slurs, his weight getting heavier and heavier. “Everything is over.” He turns his head, blinking slowly. “Kyle?”

“It’s me, sir. I’ve got you.” He slings John’s arm over his shoulders, making his weight easier to hold.

“Kyle.” He slurs again, the two syllables blurring together. “Too good to me, Kyle.” John pulls his arm free, stumbling forward.

Kyle just manages to lessen his fall onto the concrete, making sure John doesn’t smack the back of his head at least. He’ll have some scrapes and bruises tomorrow, though. Right now he probably can’t even feel it. If he was responsible, he’d take John to the med center, let him sleep off the alcohol on the safety of a gurney, but that would probably just cause more problems for everyone.

John would be pissed when he woke up.

He lets out a sigh as he stands there, staring down at his captain. John’s on his back, eyes up and focused on the sky, hiccuping every so often. He’s never seen his captain quite this drunk before, though he has heard stories of when John was younger.

“I’ve killed her.” John mumbles. “I’ve killed all of us.”

Kyle drops to a knee beside John. “You haven’t killed anyone.”

“She’s fading away. Soon she’ll be gone.” He murmurs. “We’ll go too.” John pushes himself up to sit. “It’s all over. Everything is over.”

Kyle grips John’s arms before he can fall back again, holding him in place. “Nothing is over yet, sir. We can still do something. It’ll just take time.”

John turns to look at him, his eyes hazy and far away. “Kyle.” John says his name softly, reaching out to brush his fingers across Kyle’s cheek. “Pretty boy.” He slumps against Kyle’s chest, his weight nearly making both of them topple over. “Too good to me, Kyle.”

“I care about you a lot, sir.” Kyle says, rubbing his back. “More than I think you realize.” He murmurs the last bit more to himself than anything. Not that John will likely remember any of this in the morning. “We should get you in bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

They do. They have to decide what to do next.

“Come on.” He says, hauling John to his feet carefully. John lets him, letting Kyle wrap his arm around his shoulders.

It’s slow going, Kyle half dragging John back to the barracks. He’s quiet at least, only the occasional scuffle of his footsteps as he stumbles breaking the quiet night. He gets John back to their room fairly easily, easing him into the other bottom bunk across from Simon. The room is still and silent aside from the occasional sniffle from one of the top bunks.

He grabs the blanket from his own bunk, draping it across John instead. Maybe in his drunk state, the scent will bring him some comfort, help ease that ache inside of him.

He’s hoping John’s scent will do the same for him.

“It’ll be alright, sir.” He says, making sure his captain is comfortable. He stands up, staring down at his Captain. “Everything will be fine.”

He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.

John stares down into his tea as they sit around a table. His head is throbbing, pulsing heavily behind his eyes. It’s his own damn fault, going out and getting drunk like that. He hasn’t done it in years, yet he couldn’t stand the pain gnawing away at his chest. Alcohol hadn’t fixed it. It’s still there, still pulsing away. The alcohol had only numbed it at least for a few hours, and if anything, it made it worse.

“Kate left this morning back to DC.” He says, glancing up at the other three members of his team. “They're still working on cleanup and helping Alex and Farah track Shepherd. I spoke with Dr. Keller this morning. We’ll be able to fly out soon.”

The words hang heavy in the air. He hadn’t mentioned you at all, but he’s not sure he could without breaking down. You are improving slowly, Christine had said, giving him a sympathetic look as he squinted in the harsh fluorescents. She knew. She could tell just by looking at him. She’s that good at her job.

He’s glad they have her. He’s glad you have her.

“Where are we going tae go?” Johnny asks.

“We can’t go back to base.” Simon says.

“You’re right. Going back to base is too risky.” John says. “Shepherd could have eyes there already. And with her mind where it is...” Taking you back would be too much too soon, even without the risk. One of their own had already betrayed them once. They can’t trust anyone anymore. “We need somewhere secluded and quiet. Somewhere no one will know we’re going where we can lay low for a while.” Both out of necessity for their safety, but also for your sake.

It falls silent between them. Shepherd knows all of their possible safehouses, all of the places they mind go to stay hidden. Those only they know off the record are hard to get to, requiring miles of hiking. You wouldn't be up for that even without the physical injuries, and they doubt you'd let one of them carry you. If they had to get out quickly...

“My parents have a place,” Kyle says, glancing up at them from his own cup of tea. “Out in Cornwall. A cottage near the cliffs. It’s quiet, secluded. No one knows about it but us. Tourist season is over too. There won't be many out there poking around this time of year.” Anyone wandering around out there that close would be suspicious.

“It’s a good option.” Johnny shrugs.

“It’s our only option.” Simon says.

“It’s exactly what we need.” Kyle says. “Trying to rent this time of year will only draw attention, and we can't trust we won't be ratted out. Shepherd likely still has allies. We were betrayed by one of our own before.” Kyle says.

“You're sure no one else knows about it?” John asks, looking at his beta.

“Just my parents and my siblings. They wouldn’t ask any questions if I told them it was being used.” Kyle shrugs. “It might be our best option.”

John looks around at them. It is their best option for now. He knows Kyle's family is just like the rest of theirs. They know they can't know and they won't ask questions.

“We had a conversation once, months ago.” John says. “She told me she wanted to live next to the sea someday. She wants to be close enough that she can smell it and see it.”

He pauses thinking back months ago after Simon left, after you were so affected by his absence. That conversation when you asked if he’d ever leave for you, when he told you if your life was ever in danger because of them he’d leave in a heartbeat. He’s made a liar out of himself. He broke his promise, so many promises, made not just to you. Not just to the pack.

He glances at the other three, fighting back the lump in his throat, the endless threat of tears that has been rising like the tide and threatening to drown him at any moment. He’s made his decision, he’s made up his mind.

You have to come first.

His priorities have changed. There’s no initiative to follow, no orders to be given out. Kate was right. This is their moment to change things, this is his moment to change things. His pack will follow. Despite everything, they’ll trust him to make the right decision. They won’t hesitate to challenge him anymore, but there’s still that deeply ingrained trust in their alpha and captain.

The alpha comes first.

No, the omega comes first.

He takes a sip of his tea, bitter without any milk, but it’ll do. “She wanted to be close to the sea.” He looks back up at the other three having made his decision. “Taking her there might just be what she needs.”

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