#ruby martin | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dutiful-wildcraft · 23 days ago

Text

Omegaverse: Alpha!Soap x Omega FOC

Fluff, Smut, Background Poly141, showering, some finger action, be nice. MDNI

Banner: @/diviniyae

Their girl is going into heat, though she doesn't know. Never does.

Soap thought she was faking it at first. Trying to be somehow demure about it, like some fantasy novel. But no. For as clever and cocky as their omega is, it bites her in the ass every time.

He understands now how girls can forget their periods. Ruby doing the same with a heat that only comes twice a year, he supposes she could forget that too. Mistaking her body's calling cards as some fluke.

She doesn't keep track of it. Swears up and down she'll know it when she feels it coming.

Yet they all keep it scribbled onto calendars and apps. Watching. Waiting.

The days never exact but pretty close. So when Ruby starts being…elusive, they all share a knowing look.

It starts with naps, long, frequent. Their stubborn girl fighting yawns and watery eyes in the mid-afternoon. Determined to finish her book or little craft project only to pass out on one of them, warm cheek pressed to their skin as they are effectively held hostage for a few hours until she stirs.

(Simon usually volunteers for that one.)

From there her sleep schedule is fucked. Rising late, sleeping briefly, pretending to go to bed at a reasonable hour to only be caught puttering around in the wee hours of the night and corralled back into bed.

Next, is the elusiveness, irritability. She trends far, far away from them. Hiding. Stubborn to feed. Finicky. Nesting. Her den (not a nest, she insists) a heavily guarded fortress until she's soft and ready to share. Hissing and yowling and anyone who pestered her there.

They tactically leave their clothes about, well worn shirts and old pillows that disappear within the day.

They almost work in shifts, giving her space yet looking after her, as if to pretend there wasn't an omega shaped alligator snapping about their home. Waiting patiently for the prickly thing to go soft and sweet, crawling into one of their beds as the levee finally breaks.

It's a toss up as to who she goes too. No favorites. (Though Gaz would argue it’s him.)

But Soap?

Well he would beg to differ.

Some would call him amicable, a bit brash but good to work with others, but you see, Soap can be a greedy, greedy man, and when he sets his mind to something, he will almost certainly have it.

It’s inevitable, a bit of snarling and snapping between possessive Alphas. Instinct that only really kicks in under the heat haze of an omega. That’s natural, and he loves his mates, wouldn’t trade the experience of his pack for the world.

And while he wouldn’t hog his omega all to himself, he could be tactical.

He keeps track of her cycle, down the day and time. Clockwork. Algorithms he's always had a knack for.

Waits for his reward for being a good, patient boy.

And it comes in the form of sleep heavy Ruby, hair tangled, mascara smudged beneath her eyes, yawning with a little growl as she comes shuffling into the kitchen, in a rumpled t-shirt and too big sweatpants, lulled by the scent of savory sweet noodles and potstickers he's cooked in the middle of the night just for her.

This is his time. The brief interim where she is hazy, sickly sweet. The calm before the storm where she can be fed and bathed and loved.

She beelines it right for him, wrapping her arms around his middle and mashing her face into the soft heat of his back.

And steamin’ jesus, does she smell good, rich milky chocolate over playful cherry syrup that slides right down his throat. Lays heavy in his belly.

“Aah~, g'mornin there teddy girl.” he teases warmly, twisting about in her arms so he can bury his face in her hair, squeeze her hard enough to earn himself a grunt and little giggles.

He kisses the top of her head, revels in the well worn scent of perfuming omega and his mates. “What's got you up so late?”

She pretends to think, and he can already see the lie coming a mile away.

“M' hungry”

He just stares, eyebrow raised as he presses a palm to her forehead. She's hot to the touch, not quite burning, but it won't be long.

“That all?”

She sniffs, nods, distracted by the food plated on the counter, a little ravenous look in her eye.

Keeping an arm around her, he plucks up a relatively cool potsticker off of the plate beside him, hand feeding it to her much to her delight, the omega wiggling happily in his arms as she takes a bite.

Bloody princess, he smirks, as if it doesn't delight him just as much to coddle her.

She's a good girl, quiet, sharp as a whip, doesn't want for anything and stays out of trouble (often to her own detriment, though they're working that out of her.)

It's rare to get her to indulge like this, let herself be babied. To play with him like he knows she wants too.

She takes another bite, teeth scraping against his fingers and he just barely bites back his hiss, her little stunt pooling blood right down to his groin. He scruffs her, palm sharp and quick as he snags her by the back or her neck, tugging her to look up at him. It's hardly a real scruff, a sharp little pinch that has her grinning up at him in a mix of shit-eating and sheepish.

“Ya wanna try that again, minx?”

“I think… maybe… I'm about to start my heat.” she announces, as if it hadn't been apparent over the last week.

Soap doesn't tease her this time. No ‘I told you so.’ Doesn't make her feel silly for doing what she needed to, even if she were as stubborn as a mule.

He only hums, hugs her close again with a warm thumb rubbing behind her ear.

“Then we best get you fed, aye?”

She eats well, scarfing down her own plate and going for seconds, occasionally stealing her favorite bites off of Soap's plate until she's sated and schmoozing her way into Soap's lap on their oversized sectional. Her soft belly pressed against his as she snuggles under his chin, nose pressed to his collar where his scent is more rich. Her purrs are quiet, only audible in the midnight quiet of the living room, devolving into soft breaths as she drifts back off to sleep.

This.

This is what he was waiting for. This little pocket in time he’s carved out for just them. He knows he is one of the rare few to have her like this, not just whining underneath him, but laughing against his skin, nipping and tickling and teasing. A girlish nature about her that she keeps under a tight mask of reserved young lady. It comes out at times, a rambunctious thing after too much coffee, or when she is particularly excited about something, nose practically pressed to the glass for aquarium trips.

He feels just a little bad for keeping this little phase secret, but this is something special, a Ruby just for him.

And he isn’t done with her yet.

He reaches down, smooths his hand over the curve of her rear, giving her a few warning pants before pinching sharply, causing her to yelp, glaring at him as if he'd just pissed in her cereal.

“Not bedtime yet girl, we've got to hosed you off.”

She wrinkles her nose. “For what?”

“Because you stink. And you're going to be hell on wheels to catch and bathe when you're too keen on wallowing in the sweat of 4 alphas.”

She remains unconvinced. He could make her, pack her in there with a stern rumble and a swat to the ass like Price, but there would be time for that later.

“You want your alpha's to smell like you don't ye?”

That catches her attention, suspicious brown eyes looking him up and down. “Let's get this layer off so you can start fresh.” he tugs at the same shirt of Simon's she's been wearing for a little too long now.

It's a lie.

A big fat lie. A clever ruse to scrub her clean so he can mark her up first, have her reeking of him before the real work starts. He's a fair man, delights in his pack and all of their scents, but there is something special about scenting her down first that makes the alpha in him preen in delight.

He corrals her into their oversized shower, fussing with the knobs to get the perfect scalding temperature that he knows she prefers, during it down ever so slightly in the hopes of preventing himself from parboiling.

When he turns again she is standing at the ready, arms in the air as she does a playful little shimmy. Happy girl. Wiggling like an excited puppy as she waits for him to strip her down.

He knows the drill. Tugging at the bottom of her shirt, trying his best to ignore the damp patch already against the front of her lavender colored panties. Patience. With a steadying breath he pulls the fabric up over her belly, mouth watering over the reveal of full soft breasts and stretch marks that dance across her skin like lightning. She’s beautiful, a walking luxury that he gets to see with his own two eyes every day.

He yanks the garment over her head with little fanfare, dodging her rumpled swats as he yanks her underwear down with the same energy, tugging at the soaked cotton around her ankle and snickering as she’s forced to hop a little to get them kicked away. Soap’s poor brain quickly short circuiting at the captivating bounce of warm soft skin, the rich scent of arousal thick in his nose from his position. Neither of them will last much longer with they’re brains intact.

Focus, John, focus.

He goes to work removing his own clothes next, putting on perhaps a little more flare than necessary as he tugs off his shirt, stomach rippling and shoulders flexing as he yanks if up and over the forest of hair on his chest. His athletic shorts go more quickly, the alpha trying with no minimal amount of effort to focus with the hard on that slaps against his stomach with the flourish.

When he meets her eyes again he might as well be a piece of meat. Pretty soft brown lost in a void of black as she looks upon him with a ravenous delight, movement slinky as a cat’s as she tries to corner him.

He just barely catches her before she can sink kitten nails into the fur of his chest, snagging her wrists in one hand and redirecting her toward the shower spray. She whines dejectedly, the sound of it yanking at his instincts like a steel chain.

Soothe, protect.

“You did that on purpose…” she grumbles, truly sulking like a wet cat as he corrals her under the shower spray.

“Cannae fathom, what you're on about.” he replies with an air of superiority, squeezing a small dollop of her face wash between his palms before setting to work scrubbing away smeared eyeliner. He toys with her skin, pinching and squishing her round cheeks comically as she tries halfheartedly to snap at him, instead breaking down into goofy giggles as he smooshes her cheeks together like a fish, planting a loud smacking kiss to her lips that has them both laughing. “Help me get you clean, and we can play however you like, lamb.”

Which, he truly did put in an effort on the getting clean part, at least at first, but the plan fell apart as soon as it was time for the rest of her to be scrubbed down. His hands are slick, gliding over her belly, squeezing at her sides, traveling up to palm at her breasts, relishing in the weight of them in his hands, the way her breath hitches as he thumbs over her nipples.

“John.” she gasps, the swell of her ass grinding against his length as she arches into the touch.

“I know.” he coos, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, mouthing slowly along her neck, her jaw, nipping at her ear as he teases at sensitive nipples. “Just a little more, you can be good aye?”

She huffs, whimpers softly, but nods, tilting her head back to look at him. “Atta girl” he purrs, rewarding her with a soft kiss to her forehead as he continues his ‘cleaning.’ Calloused hands abandoning her chest to drag along her spine, stirring up more purrs from his omega as he massages there for a moment before sliding down to the plush of her ass, over her hips.

His fingers glide through more than the slippery slide of soap between her thighs, and this time he can’t bite back his groan, the sound rumbling into her skin as he noses at the junction of her shoulder, breathing deep the rich scent of cherry cordial from the very source. Eyes lidded as he watches the heave of her chest, his movements slow and deliberate as he curls fingers through soaking wet folds.

His omega shudders, a breathless whine leaving her as she shifts her legs wider, tries to give him more access, tries to bend in a mockery of a real presentation.

His cock throbs, his tip flushed red and weeping where it leaves incessant little kisses over the curve of her ass.

He could take her here, fuck her senseless and put her to bed stretched and ready for the rest of his pack. She looks so pretty like this, skin flushed and lips parted, staring back at him with glassy eyes through the strands of soaked red hair.

Focus, Mactavish.

He’ll take her, but he won’t waste a knot that his precious omega will need later, and without his rut to back him up, keeping her satisfied will require some refractory tact at minimum.

He curls his fist into the strands at the base of her skull, earning himself another pitiful whine as he pulls her back like a lead.

“No sweetness, not ready for that yet, but I’ll take care of you.” he hushes, tugging her back into his chest as he slowly begins working a finger over the tight bundle of nerves at her center.

And oh does she melt, weight falling against his chest as he works her up, a litany of little whimpers echoing through the bathroom like music as he zeros in on the rhythm she likes. “That’s it, come for me sweet girl and when I get you dried off I’ll give you some fingers to fill this pretty cunt hm?”

She’s speechless, always so quiet until you work a few orgasms out of her, the poor thing panting like a dog as she nods desperately. He grips her chin with his free hand, tugging her over to swallow any noises she had to give him in hungry kisses. All tongue and teeth as he adds a few more fingers to swirl over her swollen clit.

She’s close, he can feel it, her body pulled taught, hot against his chest as she starts to tremble. He slides his hand down to her throat, tilting her back to gaze into glassy brown eyes, tears beading in the corner as she slowly breaks. Please, please, please, a desperate and breathless plea as she finally seizes in his arms, hips jerking uselessly as her orgasm washes over her, dragging a high pitched cry from her throat.

He doesn’t break away, just pulls her in for more kisses, lips sucking and nibbling over the sensitive gland along her shoulder as he slows his rhythm, working her down nice and easy until she’s boneless in his arms.

He can smell it more clearly now, her perfume ripe and thick, her body finally tipping over into full blown heat thanks to his well intentioned efforts.

It won't be long until the others wake to the scent of her permeating through the house, heat sick and crying for them in just a few hours time.

A second attempt at a shower was in order.

#johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x oc #cod ocs #oc: ruby martin #wildcraft writing #omegaverse

83 notes · View notes