because alpha!kyle will never, ever, let his lovers want for nothing <3
For the most part, being the leader of a pack suited Kyle mighty well.
As an Alpha, he loved to protect those under him and make sure their lives were as free of trouble as possible; and as Kyle Broflovski, he loved knowing there were people who trusted his judgement and depended on it to do anything.
He avoided thinking too hard about how those facets of his life bled into each other lest he drive himself crazy (again) questioning his own self-worth, but once Stan and Wendy joined your relationship as two more partners to love and care for, it became harder for him to not ponder his obligations and his performance; or rather, to not value himself too highly knowing there were now three people who wanted him in the same all-consuming ways he’d wanted them. The logistics of caring for the needs of two Omegas evaded his brain at first, but instinct - plus Wendy’s Beta efficiency to hold down the fort and ensure no one died of starvation when he was busy knotting you or Stan - quickly showed he was more fit for it than originally intended.
Way more fit. Burning down all of Tegridy Farms wouldn’t have held a candle to the high he got out of seeing you and Stan tucked into a nest, all wrapped up in his shirts to stay close to his scent, or Wendy lounging around in one of said shirts when fetching him a bottle of water while he was still stuck inside one of his Omegas.
He made all of that. He was the only one who could.
To be fair, when outsiders asked him how his life was going and he got opportunities to say out loud his pack was doing great, thank you very much, he did still try not to preen… excessively.
But not only of mating does an Alpha live - though he wouldn’t mind that one bit -, and the column of being a lawyer in the four-income household remains load-bearing; as such, once lunch was over, he was forced to shake the thoughts of his three darlings greeting him at home, cozy and ready for a movie, and focus on the work that awaited him.
Meeting with a new client in about ten minutes. Greeeeat. From the information he was given, it’s one of those cases, too, the type that’s gonna contribute to the heart attack this world keeps dangling in front of his eyes.
At least it’s online, he considered as he sat down on the comfy ergonomic chair in his office, though he knew the awesome support for his back would not save him from the imminent headache. By now that one had become a staple of the job - and when it sparked behind his eyes as his phone started ringing in his jacket pocket, it was easy to just assume the blaring noise was also part of the deal, even if he was not in the mood to handle it.
Please, let this be the client trying to reschedule. Sure, those things were done by the secretary and no client was supposed to ever have access to his personal phone, but he’d sort that out if it meant an hour or two for himself to cool down from the blooming discomfort in his temples. Customer service voice already locked and loaded, he didn't check once at the caller ID before answering. “Broflovski Law Firm, Kyle spea-”
“Do you do this every time?” Wendy’s voice rushed from the other side of the phone, like she herself was just itching to ask that.
If Wendy could see the flush of pink to his cheeks now that he realized it was just her, he’d get Testaburger Household, Wendy speaking in lieu of Good Morning for a whole week. “When I’m at work, yeah, Wends, I do,” he responded instead, the creases on his shirt coming back with his shoulders’ infinitesimal relaxing. “You know, work, that thing you’re also supposed to be doing right now?”
Kyle could hear her eyeroll. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Hope you can stay funny like that on your way back home right now, babe.”
“Tempting, but no. I’ve got a client in a few.” He ran a hand over his curls, wiping the insistent sweat that had been slowly building under his hairline since earlier that morning. “You want anything?”
“Cancel it.” Wendy stated, clipped; Kyle’s flaring temper spurred him to make her order become something that would have him sleeping on the couch, but her next words killed the argument before it ever lived. “They’re in heat, Kyle.”
His heart lurched out of his mouth in a gasp.
Heat. The first one since all of you moved in together - and though Kyle was already used to you and Stan synching, as is usual for Omegas in close proximity, the mental calendar he used to count the days down for this seemed to have jumped the gun on him. “Right now? I didn't- How long has it been since the last one?”
“Seven weeks.” Wendy sounded as shocked as Kyle was. “I tried looking it up. Thought them being around each other all the time messed up their cycles or something, but Google fucking sucks these days-”
“Google? Wendy, you've got a fucking degree in Biology!” In a past life, Kyle had thought this might make the dynamic easier; two whole classes and an elective in her uni curriculum about secondary genders and whatnot. Right then, though, it just made the black hole in Kyle's stomach fiercer. “Can’t you do something to help them out? Just until I’m done with the meeting?”
“Alright, first of all, fuck you. You go try and run sperm samples under a microscope while your lab partner’s almost going into heat from it and trying to lick the slides, tell me how that goes,” Wendy snapped. “Second, I did! But there’s only so much I can do without a fucking knot, Kyle!”
“Don’t- Don’t talk about that right now,” Kyle hissed, finding a grip at the front of his button-up, nearly tugging off the fourth button in the process. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of the thickness starting to weigh in his trousers, forcing him to spread his legs wider in his office chair. “Did you try everything? Give them the toys, if they need new ones just use my credit card, it’s fine!”
It wasn’t fine, and the growl that tore Kyle’s throat once he finished the sentence told him and Wendy that much. His Omegas were needy, driving his Beta crazy, and he was here suggesting she sort all of it out with fake knots when they were supposed to be taking him. The Alpha’s blood boiled just considering it.
“You think I would’ve called if I hadn’t? They need you!”
Oh, she was using that tone - the high-pitched thing reserved for arguments and times where she was applying for a spot bent over his knee. It even made his damn leg start bouncing, and his cock throb expectantly.
“Well, I can’t leave my job to go fuck them, okay?” He insisted with a huff, trying to land his eyes on the computer screen instead of whatever invisible bouncy spot they were following around the room. His hand drifted down to his crotch to give his already half-hard length a squeeze - down, boy. “You- You gotta make do without me for a few hours.”
From how the Beta’s voice had risen in exasperation before, its next drop was enough to coil Kyle’s entrails. “Alright then, but I’m not gonna sit around and watch them suffer like that. If you can’t do it, I’m calling Kenny. Think he’s free right now.”
His jaw clenched so tight he swore he heard a tooth crack.
Over his dead body.
It was one infuriating thing to imagine his partners fucking silicone toys into themselves to ease the ache of his absence. It was another entirely to imagine another Alpha waltzing into his home, basking in that sweetness only he was supposed to taste, stepping into a nest made for him and seeing both of his lovely Omegas begging to be filled. That was fundamentally wrong, He could probably find basis for that in one of those thick law tomes catching dust in his bookcases. Once he stopped wanting to claw himself to shreds from the mental image of it happening, that is.
And if Kenny even considered, dared, sinking that stupid golden fang of his into your or Stan’s scent glands-
“No. No call Kenny,” Kyle grumbled while shaking his head. The decent side of him would’ve called into question his use of the English language, if it wasn’t currently bound and gagged, choking on the fumes of his burning mind. “I go. No one else. Got it?”
Wendy hummed, and Kyle didn’t bother trying to comprehend the finger he had been looped around. “Thank you, babe. Love you.”
“Love you,” he echoed before hanging up, voice taking that last plunge into complete primal roughness.
He stood up so fast the chair rolled back and struck the wall behind it, but he’d only notice the little chip on the paint many days later; for now, all he could do was add fuel to the rapidly blooming rut inside of his chest by rushing to his lovers, meeting be damned.
༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚
Kyle knew the ride home wasn’t supposed to be as short as it had been.
He also knew he didn’t particularly care.
Your Alpha entered your shared home like he was late for it, kicking the front door shut with his heel while finishing off the shirt buttons he’d begun undoing back in the car. Tie had been ditched, too, tossed onto the passenger seat, and the suit jacket never even made it to the parking lot with him; it was too busy covering the still-on monitor of his work computer.
Through his ragged breathing and the shrill hum of several car horns which still lingered in the depths of his ears, he forced himself to stop for all of five seconds to listen. Not that he needed even this small amount of time - immediately, two different sets of chained mewls and whines greeted him. One deeper and harsher, the other higher and drawn-out, both siren’s songs tugging at every vein in his body.
Five seconds, and Kyle was on.
Those streaks of the red lights he ran over trying to get here, temporarily burned into the corners of his eyes, pulsed blindingly as he power-walked through the house and towards your room. Every cry was met with a growl of his own. I’m here. I’m here. Don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you.
The walls rattled under the force of him shoving the door open, and then-
Honeyed sweetness invaded his nostrils, dizzying enough to have him losing his footing and stumbling two steps into the room. The space was stuffier than a sauna, the single window firmly closed to prevent any of that Omega bouquet from seeping out towards a world that definitely did not deserve to smell it. All the dressers were wide open, clothes scattered around the floor in a trail towards the pile of blankets and pillows at the farthest corner from the entrance, because the actual bed can’t fit the four of you and thus it was bullshit and should be set on fire.
Which he wholeheartedly agreed with.
Because there was nothing more stunning than seeing the three of you together. A naked mess of limbs, flushed a pretty pink and sweating so profusely it formed a glimmering sheen over your bodies. He didn’t know what he wanted to lick first: that sweat, the pool of your slick combined with Stan’s that was dampening the blanket, or the tears in your eyes and his from all the needy keening.
Stan had your legs around his waist, his larger frame pressing you down onto the plush nest as he pistoned his cock into you desperately - and behind him, Wendy was struggling to keep her own pace with the strap-on attached to her hips, spreading his cheeks and watching the silicone length sliding in and out of his leaking hole. Chests heaved in near unison, a song of shared effort and want, which Kyle was adding to with his own panting.
You and Stan clung to each other like letting go would make your bodies fall apart in several pieces; cute and all that, seeing his Omegas this close and loving, but through every sinful sound you made with him when he pounded your sweet cunt, Kyle latched on to the sobs. Because regardless of what was being done for the both of you, you’d still be left hollow and wanton. Nothing fit.
Until now.
Wendy, the only one with any semblance of a functioning brain, was the one to notice Kyle first. Plunging her strap deep into Stan’s hole - and earning a heady wail from him -, she stopped and turned to face the Alpha, her dark bangs glued to her forehead from the sweat and eyes narrowed to see him better. She’d probably bring up the concept of contact lenses for herself again once this was all done.
“About time,” she called out listlessly, a grin spreading on her face. His other two partners, too entranced by their own futile search of completion, kept going, whimpering into each other’s arms and making his own flex with the urge to go wrap around both of them. “G-Gonna stay there and watch or can I get a glass of water right now?”
Kyle’s pants and underwear dropped before she even finished speaking - cock slapping against his clenched abs, both glad for the extra space and imploring for pressure, coated in so much pre it had darkened the fabric of his boxers. The base of it swelled with his knot, pulsing like a second heartbeat… Or a third, fourth, fifth. Another one to join the three he carried with him at every step.
haven't managed to get done with kenny and butters yet (demanding pair i tell you what) so instead tomorrow night we're getting a little blurb with more A/B/O shenanigans.
ooooooh lord i've been thinking a lot about Alpha Kyley-B lately and i'm making it everyone else's problem.
Alpha!Kyley-B, whose photo is probably the first thing that shows up on the Wikipedia article for the concept of Alpha. Not just due to the looks - though the sharp edges of his features and those constantly-narrowed-at-the-world eyes surely help with painting the picture of a hazardous animal -, but from sheer presence alone as he’d probably stare down at that camera like it should be thanking him for not being broken. From the moment he first stepped foot in South Park hailing from New Jersey (a fact that did leave some locals wondering for a while if he really was an Alpha or if all Jerseyans just were like that), he’s commanded either fear with his rough-and-tumble demeanor or love with the intelligence he also carried to back up the rudeness and the physical strength he displayed when said rudeness was reciprocated.
A pairing like that in a single Alpha was an awe-striking combination; as such, it always shocked everyone that he’d never taken as a proper mate any of the many Omegas that had fallen to his feet and begged for it across the years. Carrying his mating bite was a dream for them, but as he refused to give them the time of day and just continued to lead his life as if he was too good for all of this, most had decided some dreams remain just that.
Alpha!Kyley-B who loses his first fight because of you.
You weren’t even the reward for it. It was some random Omega behind the counter of a fast-food restaurant he’d gone to for lunch, all giggles and batting eyelashes as she took her sweet time handing him his tray by adding to his order a courtesy amount of french fries that was sure to land her a warning from her manager.
Unbeknownst to Kyley, some other Alpha in the vicinity hadn’t taken kindly to the perceived traitorous interaction, regardless of the Jersey playboy’s clear disinterest in that Omega. Yet, interested or not, all bets were off when the Alpha stormed towards him and punched the underside of his tray, sending low-quality food and drink straight to Kyley’s chest. Before the contents had even hit the tiled floor, that Alpha’s back was on it - with Kyley right on top sending a flurry of punches their way, meeting their possessive anger with his own indignant rage.
His fists stopped in mid-air when, seemingly out of nowhere, the best scent in the entire world filled his nostrils. Sweet, but not sickeningly so; like a perfectly ripe strawberry, one that makes his teeth ache with both the urge to sink into it and to tear the flesh off anybody who dares try to pluck it.
But as it came, it went. The sting that tainted it before the front door made a noise and barred the smell from him completely told him of the fear in you. However, he didn’t have the time to stop the commotion and go after whoever you were - the delay in his reaction gave the Alpha under him an opening, and soon it was Kyley’s own cheek on the cold tile, a searing pain on the side of his head where he had been struck. Some more punches followed as the other Alpha got the upper hand, and the redhead took the first opportunity he had to flee, holding his own bloody nose as he stumbled towards the glass door and out to the sidewalk.
Alpha!Kyley-B who figures out there’s something to like about these small towns. Sure, it’s got nothing on Jersey - nothing does, really; I mean, where else can one find government-backed brawling events on the beach for rutting Alphas? -, but the ‘quieter’ vibes do make it that much easier for him to track your scent over the course of just a few days.
And when he finds an area where the strawberry aroma starts to feel like a wine and lands his eyes on you for the first time, he adds another injury to his slew of unhealed cuts and bruises: biting the inside of his cheek until it bleeds, to keep from pouncing on you. You’re even more beautiful than the image his hormonal mind had conjured from the scent he’d burned into his nostrils that past afternoon, and the fact that you’re the one who approaches him - eyes full of concern for the wounds on his face, yet still filled with light in that way Omegas always get when they’re presented with the opportunity to assist an Alpha - could’ve had him on his knees if he wasn’t trying his damndest to make a good impression this time around.
Alpha!Kyley-B who, from that day forward, sticks to you like your scent stuck to him. The pick-up lines he sends his way on your first meeting do earn him your Instagram handle and a steady string of DMs back and forth, and from then on he doesn't even consider being subtle when seeking your company. Meeting you every day becomes enrichment (regardless of how easy you make that pursuit by simply agreeing to hang out); every time he takes his spot near you and gets to bask in your warmth, he feels he should be awarded a medal.
His constant presence also serves another purpose: Warding off any and all unmated Alphas who think of coming your way, for any reason. Scary dog privileges with this guy are real, and if the overpowering pine and seawater scent he carries isn't enough to push competitors away, he can always count on a bloodthirsty death glare and the Broflovski skill of acting fucking crazy to do the trick.
After a point, it doesn't even faze you anymore. The first two or three times Kyley growled and gestured wildly at some ‘garbage’ Alpha on the street who looked at you too much might've been shocking, but the peace of mind that not having weirdos on your hair brought very much made up for it.
Alpha!Kyley-B who knows your heat is coming before you do.
Your scent, which he already recognizes from blocks away and carries in his heart like a lucky charm, becomes even more intense. He can’t reliably use his senses to pinpoint your location anymore, because it’s fucking everywhere regardless of whether you’re around or not. Those throw pillows from your couch, which you made away with at some point that week, mean more to his back than he'd like to admit when he comes over - yet when he finds them in your room, neatly propped against the corner over a thick padding of what seems to be all of your blankets, he knows better than to bring them back to their original spot.
Whatever chance he had of resisting it goes out the window when the burning starts. It blooms like a headache and spreads down, dulling all other information around him except for that sugar in the air and making him hate the fact other things exist. Every interaction, be it with other humans or inanimate objects, becomes a declaration of war - which honestly isn't too different from his routine of throwing his weight around for breakfast lunch and dinner, but this time it comes with the awareness that kicking the asses of every Alpha in Colorado wouldn’t bring him the satisfaction of a victory.
Before he finds himself in any situation where he might test that theory out, he’s running to your house - and he doesn’t even get to knock before Omega!You are opening the door and pulling him inside by that golden chain around his neck, the scent of his rut setting your own flesh ablaze as you’d felt it from blocks away. Both your clothes and his own are left in tatters on the way to your nest, a sad view for his little Omega who wanted that tank top to curl up with - and a happy awareness for Kyley as he lands on said nest, because he doesn’t want any random pieces of fabric that might pull your interest away from his body. Never in a million years would he find himself jealous of his own clothing.
It doesn’t matter, though. Not when he knows it’s for him that your hole’s weeping like that, not when you wrap your arms around him and the sweetness tops off that spiral he’s been twirling ever since he first saw you. And when you’re crying out your pleasure around his knot, Alpha!Kyley-B wastes no time before sinking his teeth into the scent gland at the side of your neck - to mark you as his own forever, yes, but also because he’s been yours for so very long, and he'll scream in every possible way the fact that you owned him.
hello hello hello okay so i am not, in fact, completely gone. the self-control i had to exert this semester in order to not blow a gasket on the worst teacher in my course left me with very little time/energy to actually write.
i am now on winter break and will absolutely focus on getting something out for you guys! intend on posting this weekend already.
have gummy bear heidi and nichole while that happens because i love them and they're the only people who matter
