(;¬_¬) Alpha Tendencies - Clark Kent x Omega male reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Plot: Childhood best friends turn into something more when red kryponite forces out Clark's perverted thoughts
Featuring: Alpha (Smallville) Clark Kent x Omega male reader
Note: Presenting as A/B/O happens around 18 in this AU, not around regular puberty at 14!!!!!!
ALSO! Never watched this series(?) and I know nothing abt DC other than what I've read from fanfiction so pls excuse any continuity issues and such!
Warnings: amab m!reader / FDNI ~ Minors DNI!
Alpha!Clark who's been protective over you since childhood. The two of you had been best friends and 'neighbours' since you two learnt to walk 'n talk! You were the closest house to Clark's farm; still pretty much in the middle of nowhere, but close enough that the brunette would knock on your door every day to get you outside to play together. And even though you two hadn't even presented yet, it was like you both naturally knew to settle into that Alpha-Omega rhythm. Clark would always watch out for you, his blood pressure spiking and his little fangs baring whenever you hurt yourself whilst playing or a stranger approached.
Alpha!Clark who presented as an Alpha and literally couldn't stop thinkin' about you. During his entire first rut, his brain was consumed with thoughts of you. Thoughts of you being such a good omega and helping him with school work, thoughts of him scaring off your bullies who thought you were too flamboyant, thoughts of you beneath him, thoughts of you purring Clark's name into his ear...
It really affected Clark. He felt so full of shame once he'd come to after his rut had ended; he literally couldn't look you in the eye for a week!
Alpha!Clark who had discovered a new side of himself, a side he tried so hard to shove down and keep hidden. A side which would keep Clark up at night unless he jerked off to the thought of you, his innocent, perfect, sexy childhood best friend, in compromising positions and situations with the Alpha. A side to himself which made it so difficult for Clark to concentrate on what you were saying when you're eyes looked so pretty looking up at him, when your scent was making his brain feel fuzzy and his dick ache, oh and especially when your voice saying his name to get his attention sounded so sweet. But the superhuman kept this perverted side of himself bottled up. That was until he received a gift.
Alpha!Clark who couldn't turn down a gift from the Omega he'd been desperate to court since childhood. So, when you presented him with a silver band-like ring, how could he resist putting it on? Though both of you were unaware that the minuscule red gem encrusted into the ring, the one you thought was a plastic rhinestone, was actually one of the last tiny pieces of red kryptonite left on earth (excuse the lack of series knowledge). And you wouldn't find out for a while. After all, it was such a tiny piece that it affected Clark very minutely. Though it slowly but surely picked up speed.
Alpha!Clark who thought he just felt a bit braver recently. Maybe his brain had fully developed. Or perhaps he just stopped thinking about consequences or morals as much, but he was definitely acting differently...
Again, it started off slow and small. An out-of-pocket kinda sexual comment about you that you'd laugh off: "Your lips look good around that popsicle". Then it turned into more open courting; yeah, you and Clark had kind of been courting each other since childhood, but now the Alpha was carrying your bag around all day and giving you gifts every morning. Then came the jealousy; an alpha couldn't get a word in if Clark was around, whether the said alpha be a friend of yours or even sometimes a teacher, Clark would be on them like white on rice; holding back snarls as his arm snakes around your waist, baring his teeth, and making passive-aggressive comments.
Alpha!Clark who was still managing to put up a 'good Alpha' front despite the influence of the kryptonite. But behind closed doors, it was a very different story. The laundry basket in your room had tempted Clark many times, to the point it became routine for him to sneak a pair of your underwear and take it home with him, replacing it with a pair he'd stolen a couple of weeks past, which had lost your scent. Oh, and not to mention the way that any time you would sleep over at his house, share a bed with him, Clark would make sure you were asleep and jerk off until his dick felt like it would fall off. You just looked so fucking perfect and blissful next to (below) him, how could he resist? How could he stop?
Alpha!Clark who had reached his boiling point. It was a hot summer day, and Clark was being made to help out on his parents' farm while school was out. Of course you offered to help him out, and how could he say no? It was getting to a point that Clark could barely go a whole day without seeing you. But you were really doing the opposite of helping him. Sure, you were getting the jobs around the farm done, no complaints there. But you were rendering the young alpha practically inept with the way your skimpy summer clothes were showing off your skin, the way your body was shiny and sweaty from the hot summer air, and holy shit, the way your face was flushed along with your cute pants of exhaustion? Clark could feel the boner in his pants almost tear the seams of his briefs.
Alpha!Clark who finally submitted to the influence of the red kryptonite in his ring, meaning he finally gave into his desires, his basic Alphan needs. You don't even know how it happened, but one second you were moving around some haybales in the Kent's barn, and the next you were sitting atop said haybales with Clark standing between your legs, kissing you feverishly. His scent of mineral musk and small notes of grapefruit was all you could smell, making your head feel fuzzy as you reciprocated the kiss, the kiss from your childhood best friend. Clark, on the other hand, was greedily inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla bean and sandalwood that was leaking from your scent gland; the alpha literally huffing through his nose whilst moulding his lips against yours, you'd think Clark was addicted to your scent.
Alpha!Clark who had his (temporary) fix of your lips and started kissing down your neck, stopping to give your scent gland some attention, and all the way down to the waistline of your shorts. Before it even registered to you, mainly due to the Alpha pheremones weakening your frontal cortex to increase the chance of reproduction, Clark was on his knees below you; his strong, muscular arms holding your thighs up and his chiselled face between your asscheeks. Loud moans and desperate whines echoed throughout the barn and only worked to egg Clark on as he worked his warm, wet tongue into your hole; your gushing slick and his own spit literally flowing down his chin and perfect jawline like some lewd waterfall. Your fingers gripped the Alpha's brown locks with a force that to you felt like a lot, but to the absolute hunk of an Alpha beneath you felt like an adorable attempt. Your toes curled in the air above Clark's head as your thighs shook from the intense pleasure of an Alpha eating you out like he was starved, because after pinning for you for so many years, Clark may as well have been.
Alpha!Clark who felt his heart skip a beat and his inner alpha scream in pleasure when you came on his tongue as you moaned out Clark's name. But the Alpha fell in love with you even more (though that would be literally impossible) when, after basking in the afterglow of your earthshattering orgasm, you offered Clark the same treatment, explaining with an embarrassed blush that you didn't want him to feel left out. That's how you both ended up lying hayloft of Clark's barn; you on top of the muscular alpha in a sixty-nine position, his dick in your mouth and vice versa. To say that Clark had never felt so much pleasure before would be an understatement, 'cause the way you started to gently lap at the Alpha's musky, inhumanely large dick and then transitioned into head sloppier than Clark had seen in porno's? That shit made Clark wanna cum then and there. But don't think that just 'cause the brunnette was almost drunk on pleasure that he wasn't focusing on your pleasure too! No, no, Clark was having to wrap his muscular arms around your hips to keep them still; the top he was giving you was making you leak slick and pre like a tap left runnin'! Seriously though, Clark could fit your entire omegan prick inside his mouth with ease, and the way his tongue would rub your tip whilst his cheeks would hollow was making you see stars.
Alpha!Clark who held off his orgasm, perks of being Kryptonian, unlike you, who shot another load down the Alpha's throat and leaked so much slick that Clark could have drowned. Though Clark was more than happy to hold off his orgasm if it meant he could knot his Omega; yes, his Omega, 'cause at this point, marking and knotting you were formalities to claiming you.
By the time the aftershocks of your second orgasm had quietened down, Clark already had you in another position; kneeling behind you as your chest lay flat on the hayloft, your hips on the other hand, propped up and presenting for your Alpha. Clark gave you the grace of entering you slowly and giving you time to adjust to his ten-inch monster; though from the mewls and moans of pain and pleasure you were letting out, his soft approach barely helped.
Alpha!Clark who rocked your world the moment you gave him the green light. We're talking backshots that could be heard all the way in England; Clark's huge, masculine hands gripping your hips tight enough to move you on and off his cock but gently enough to let you know he cares. Your breathy moans loudly reverberated throughout the barn as Clark knocked the wind out of you with every thrust, and the Alpha's own groans and moans harmonised with yours so nicely. Your scents mixed in the air along with the smell of slick, spit, and sweat; the hot, humid summer air making even the open-plan barn stink of raw sex. The scene looked like it belonged in a VHR porno, and both of you couldn't get enough of it; your Omega keening and purring at the physical and emotional feeling of having an Alpha like Clark want you in this way, and Clark's alpha roaring in pleasure and pride from having his Omega beneath him and drunk on pleasure from his doing.
Alpha!Clark who checked in on you one last time before letting himself go, leaning down, his muscular chest to your arching back, and whispering in your ear 'you doin' good? Mind if I knot you, darling?'. Ugh and when you give the man a forced nod and moan out a 'yes please'? How could Clark help himself? He'd wrapping and arm around your waist and another around head, letting your head rest against his huge bicep as his hips start moving at a speed your body could barely register or handle. All you could remember other than your own lewd sounds and moans was Clark's groaned-out string of perverted, raw, Alphan comments as he knotted you.
"Fuck you're so tight" "So fuckin' good for me- the- NGH- perfect fucking Omega" "AH- Shit-! so wet and warm just for your- your alpha" "Fuck 'm gonna knot you 'n fill you with my pups, darlin' You want that, don't ya?"
That dirty talk, along with the feeling of Clark's thick knot pushing against your rim, was what sent you over the edge for a third time. You saw white, then black, then stars of white again as your vision came back in small spots. Your dick soaked the wood and hay below you with infertile Omegan cum, your breathy moans and whiny pants mixed with Clark's moans and croons as his knot kept him locked inside of you; his thick, warm, scarily fertile cum filling you to the brim. Every unconscious pulse of your walls coaxed and forced another shot of seed out of Clark; a natural push and pull from your inner Omega and Alpha. At the end of the day, no matter how much pleasure you get out of this, the end goal, whether you want it or not, is pups.
Alpha!Clark who would gently rub your hips and the side of your thighs as the intense aftershocks stop. The silence, accompanied by soft panting from both of you, was calming, and the feeling of Clark's hands rubbing your body and the marks left on it did wonders in relaxing you. Clark gently moved the two of you into a spooning position, mindful of his knot still keeping him rock hard and locked inside of you, and played with your hair as you both talked sweet nothings.
"Y'know... I think I fell for you the moment I laid eyes on you"
"Really? That quickly hmhm...? I think I fell for you when you carried me home when I scraped my knee"
"That happened quite often, you'll have to be more specific haha"
"Shut up... So... what did this mean?"
"If it were fully up to me... I'd of marked you and paraded you around the town as my Omega by now... But the deciding vote will always be yours, [name]"
"Hmhm~ I think we can take it a little slower than that... I think boyfriends is a good place to start~"
older Alpha!price and a younger omega!reader that he has to be stern with.
price refuses to touch you during ur pre-heat. you feel languid and horny, with a horrible undercurrent or restlessness. but everytime you try to crawl onto prices lap or reach for him he pushes you away and back into the nest. "no. you know i cant handle your heat and preheat, dove." he knows his limits, and wont let himself be tempted.
it sucks. your alpha is right there but instead of knotting you like he should, ur desperately riding a toy instead. hes obviously affected, you can smell his arousal clear as day, but prices clothes stay on and he doesnt even step into ur nest. you attempt to revolt for all of three seconds by refusing the water bottle he brings you, but price threatens to take ur toy and suddenly you feel very patient :)
when ur heat does arrive? hes ruthless, head between ur legs for hours until ur writhing and begging for him to knot you. you feel exhausted and tired but you cant rest without a knot and he knows that. rumbles at you, a hand coming up to massage your thigh "oh, i know honey, just hold on for two more, okay?" plans to get some of ur energy out so you dont try to go through the night.
anyways when he finally does knot u its as amazing and wonderful as always. he leans down to nuzzle into ur neck, scenting you over that beloved claiming bite. he makes sure you eat ur snacks and stay hydrated, growls a warning when u dont. overall an amazing heat partner who knows his limits and pleases you without wearing himself ragged. (old man lol)
summary: courting gifts can be anything. a pretty necklace. a bracelet. maybe even a ring, if you’re bold. but vernon gives you socks, and you don’t know what to make of them.
pairing: alpha!vernon x omega!reader
word count: 7.2k
warnings: omegaverse au, abo dynamics, fluff, some humor, best friend!omega!seungkwan, misunderstandings but not angsty, mentions of heat and pre heat, smut, nsfw, fingering, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, knotting.
Hansol Vernon Chwe takes being an alpha very seriously. But not in the way conventional alphas would.
For example, when someone asks Vernon what he thinks an ideal alpha should be, he has some points that he will count off, a checklist of sorts in his head, requirements of being a good alpha, in his opinion. An alpha has to be strong, not physically, but mentally. He needs to be reliable, stable, someone the people around him can lean on. An alpha has to be intelligent and aware. He has to anticipate his omega’s needs and provide accordingly. Not just financially, but with thoughtful actions. An alpha must be nurturing, and he knows this is the point everyone around him gets hung up on. ‘Nurturing’? That’s typically a term associated with omegas. But Vernon stands by it. Alphas have to care, to be there emotionally, to make sure their omegas have them not just physically, but to love them for their emotions as well, to shift and release pheromones that will calm their omegas. Alphas have to be providers past the actual, financial implications of the word.
So Vernon vows to himself that if he ever gets the opportunity to be an alpha for someone, he would be the one that fits his exacting, rigid standards. That opportunity comes when he meets you.
You’re Seungkwan’s friend, which isn’t surprising. Pretty much anyone Vernon knows, he knows because they are Seungkwan’s friend. Vernon can’t understand how in hell Seungkwan can keep up with such a large friend circle. He knows everybody. But it helps indirectly because Vernon doesn’t go out of his way to meet people, so Seungkwan almost acts like the proxy for his social life.
That’s exactly how he met you.
Vernon almost didn’t go, since it was just supposed to be some kind of game night for Seungkwan’s study group. But Seungkwan insisted, really insisted, and Vernon had bailed on the last two social events Seungkwan asked him to come with, so he had to give in. He’s so glad that he did.
Just the scent of you makes him stiffen, which is very unlike him. Vernon isn’t usually much affected by omegas, hell, his best friend is an omega. But you smell so sweet, in this light and fresh way that almost energises him. Your smile is so bright as you introduce yourself, hair swaying when your head moves, and Vernon’s fingers twitch with the urge to touch. He has to visibly shake his head and blink, quickly introducing himself and shutting up so that he doesn’t act like a fool. You’re so pretty, and your voice is so calming and friendly. Vernon has this deep feeling in his chest that he wants to stay around you. Right by your side.
He hangs out with you twice more after that, all in big groups, but he manages to get near you anyhow. You’re so interesting to him. You talk about your major with a passion he can never muster, a fire in your eyes, your long term plans laid out already. You’re energetic, not as much as Seungkwan, but you know how to match the omega’s energy. And you’re also quieter with Vernon, like you understand that he’s laid back and deals with things differently. Only someone truly empathetic and kind can be like that, and Vernon’s heart soars. You’re so perfect, you’re perfect, and he will be damned if he won’t be the perfect alpha for you.
And so Vernon makes a resolve. He will prove himself. He will be the one for you, to take care of you the way someone with your spirit deserves. And he is absolutely not the kind to just pussyfoot around. So Vernon watches. Vernon observes.
When fall starts bleeding into winter, he notices how you love to be bundled up. The biggest coats and jackets, the most layers of anyone else in the group.
“Cold?” He asks when you show up at the campus gates where everyone agreed to meet so you can go to dinner together. You give him a sheepish smile and nod under your heavy hoodie.
“I get cold very easily.” You admit. “My hands and feet specifically.”
Vernon knows exactly how to fix it.
That night, he rummages through his closet and finds three sets of wool socks. His grandmother knits so many for him and his sister, and keeps sending them. Vernon wears one pair and keeps the rest for later use when his first ones are worn out. He swears by them, because she uses the finest wool for knitting. He contemplates between a navy blue pair and a grey one, ultimately going for the blue. He hopes you will like them.
When he finds you in the hallways the next morning, just before classes, he feels like his heart will beat out of his chest. He’s so nervous, and he worried himself sick last night about whether or not you would accept his gift. He wants to be there for you, to provide for you and understand your needs and take care of you. To be your alpha. This is it, the big moment.
He pulls you aside and away from the prying eyes of other students before slowly pulling out the small bag he put the socks in. You take it curiously, peering inside.
“You said your feet get really cold.” He quickly explains. “These are merino wool. My grandma makes them. They’re very warm, I promise.”
You look so surprised, blinking at the item in your hand. He watches your thumb run over them, feeling how soft they are.
“A-are you sure, Vernon?” You ask. “I was just complaining about the weather, I didn’t really think….”
Vernon immediately nods. He’s so sure. There’s no one else for him except you. You look a little hesitant, Vernon holds his breath, and then finally, you nod.
The air escapes his chest with a loud whoosh, and joy takes his place. He nods, more jerky this time, trying to tamp down his giddy smile.
“Thank you so much.” You look truly touched at the gesture, and that satisfies the alpha inside him. He took care of you, and you accepted his courting gift. You want to give him a chance. And as Vernon looks into your bright, warm eyes, he’s determined to never, ever let you down.
Vernon feels like he’s on cloud nine for the rest of the day, and when he lays in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he’s already planning other ways to convince you that he is the perfect alpha for you. He has watched you intensely (in a non-creepy way), and he knows what habits you have, and how he can enrich your life with his own presence. His top priority is giving you as much love and care as he possibly can. His phone buzzes beside his pillow, breaking him from his thoughts. His heart kicks hard when he realises who the message is from.
[you]: i love the socks vernon thank you so much!
He grins so wide he feels like his cheeks might split. Your response encourages him so much. His alpha hums, settling like a warm weight in his chest. He goes to sleep with that same, stupid grin on his face.
Vernon did believe he was good friends with you, but you warm up to him even more after that. You love to talk and catch up whenever you meet him. You love the cat videos he sends you, and when you realise he likes them, you send them to him as well. He feels particularly giddy when you caption them with something like ‘reminded me of you’. You’re so wonderful, and Vernon can’t help that deep seated catch in his stomach that tells him he is falling in love.
He doesn’t mind.
But Vernon is still courting you, and he takes being an alpha to you very seriously. He goes shopping with his sister for the weekend and picks out one of those thermoses that keep liquids warm for hours, and not the dysfunctional, knock off kind that just look pretty. Sophia thinks it’s too plain, so Vernon frets over that, but he wants this to be practical, something you really need. This is about your comfort, and he won’t compromise on that. It makes Sophia snort.
“I’m surprised you managed to court her. With socks of all things.”
That makes him blink. “She loved them. She uses them all the time.”
Sophia only laughs.
Vernon fills the thermos with your preferred preparation of coffee on Monday and gives it to you when he finds you on a picnic table on campus grounds before your first class.
“It keeps liquid warm for at least 10 hours.” He explains himself. “It’s got thicker insulation, see? I looked it up before I bought it.”
You stare at it. “Vernon, this must have cost a lot-”
He immediately cuts you off. “Don’t worry about the price. I just hope it’s good and you use it.”
You give him a wide smile, biting your bottom lip and avoiding his eyes. Are you feeling shy? Vernon’s alpha soars.
“Thank you.” You mumble. Vernon shakes his head.
“Stop saying thank you.” It’s my job. I want to take care of you.
You only let out a little laugh and nod. Vernon feels the urge to lean over the table and kiss you. It takes everything in him to not do exactly that.
The holidays come and go. Vernon talks to you often, even when you leave the city to spend the days off with your family. You wish him a happy new year, asking him about his resolutions. Vernon’s wants to say ‘to make you my omega’ but he holds back. He doesn’t want to come off too strong and push you away. So he keeps it silently in his chest, and instead asks for yours.
[you]: definitely to hit the gym. i need to get better about being healthy :(
Vernon is already planning.
When he sees you next time, it’s because you come to the dorm room to see Seungkwan. He isn’t there, but Vernon is, so you offer to wait for your friend. Vernon is eager to let you in, patting his bed down and quickly tidying up a bit. He doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob.
(He isn’t. But he also doesn’t want you to think he is.)
“I got you something.” He starts, rummaging through the bag he put your stuff in. You raise an amused eyebrow.
“Again? You really shouldn’t have…”
Vernon shakes it off. “It’s nothing much, I promise.” He walks to you with what he got.
“It’s an athletic band, for when you go to the gym.” He explains. “I wanted you to have your own. And here,” He puts everything in your lap, “electrolyte pouches. This is the good stuff that athletes use. Mingyu told me about them. The convenience store stuff isn’t very healthy.”
Your mouth is agape, and you let out an incredulous laugh. “You really go out of your way, don’t you?”
I do. Vernon wants to say. Because it’s true. He won’t spare any expense, any effort, when it comes to you. He hopes that these attempts show them to you. This is what the courting period is all about. He wants to give you proof that he is well capable of being everything you will ever want and need.
“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s so soft, so laced with warmth, and Vernon’s alpha almost preens. Almost. It’s rare for alphas to react like that, but for Vernon, this is acceptance on another level. He vowed to himself that he would be your biggest support, your only one. And he’s succeeding. He’s well on his way to being your everything, just like how you’re his everything already. He gives himself maybe a couple of more months, then he will officially ask you to be his.
He’s generally a patient guy, but he really can’t wait.
…………………………………
You have a dilemma, and you really don’t know anyone who you can talk to about it except Boo Seungkwan.
Initially, you wanted to hold off on it. You’ve known Vernon for a while now, and you know how genuine he is as a person. He is truly one of the people you trust the most, because he’s so attentive and kind. Your omega likes him too, maybe a little too much, and you always have to remind yourself that he’s just a friend, nothing more. But you can’t help being enamoured by him. He’s so different from how you are, but you gel with him so well. There’s something so charming about him, you can’t help but be sucked in.
But Vernon’s brand of weird might be getting a little…. too weird.
When he first gave you socks that his grandmother knitted, you were shocked, pleasantly so. You were half inclined to refuse, but they were genuinely so soft and Vernon looked like he really wanted you to have them, so you accepted. You did have a cold feet problem, and you complained to him about it. He happened to have a solution in his home, so he got it for you. It was very nice of him.
But then he got you that really expensive thermos. You know it was expensive because you looked it up afterwards, cursing under your breath. You love your friends and would help them any way you can, but this felt like too much. Vernon didn’t care though, adamant on you having it. And you didn’t have the heart to refuse when he kept insisting. And goddamn, it did keep your coffee warm and cozy for hours, so you could happily sip on it for a long time. You still use that thing every day.
Then there was the little stuff, like electrolyte packets and a gym headband, or the muscle patches he got you when you complained about being sore (it wasn’t even that bad, you just like to complain). It seems that no matter what you say, Vernon is always listening, like he wants any opportunity to make your life better. It warms your heart, it makes your omega keen, but Vernon is swimming very close to dangerous waters. All this is doing is making you more and more inclined to him, his thoughtfulness and care makes you want to melt right into him. Because at the end of the day, he’s an alpha, and you want him more and more with every passing day.
As you said, dangerous waters.
Things really take a turn when he shows up at your dorm with toothpaste, the same brand you use on a daily basis. You stare at it.
“Yours was running out last time I was here.” He says, and he’s so nonchalant about it, like friends just notice something like dwindling toothpaste and buy it for you. You’re so flabbergasted that you don’t even think of rejecting it, just thanking him quietly instead. He nods, smiling.
Okay, you need to talk to Seungkwan.
You text Seungkwan about meeting you for lunch at a café outside campus. It’s not too far, but enough that you know you won’t run into any of your mutual friends there. You really don’t want to talk to anyone who won’t help you, and while you’re very social on most days, you’re in no mood to deal with people right now. You ignore the urge to stay home in bed, because you really need to do something about this Vernon situation, so you push yourself to go, despite the resistance in your body.
Seungkwan just thinks it’s a normal catchup meal when he greets you, but when you start to slowly tell him about what Vernon has been doing for the last few months, his jaw just drops more and more, his plate completely forgotten.
“You’re not serious.” He mutters when you finish.
“I am.” You sigh. “And I love it, you know? I do. It makes me feel….. some type of way. But that’s why you have to tell him to stop. I can’t keep assuming that he’s doing it for some other reason. My heart can’t take it.”
You feel intense emotions rise up in you, and you have to swallow them down. It surprises you a little, how heated and charged you feel, but you push the thought out of your mind, trying to focus. Seungkwan’s face is pinched in thought, but you can see in real time as it smooths in realisation.
“Oh my god, wait.”
You watch him curiously. “What?”
But Seungkwan doesn’t say, shaking his head. Then, he goes back to his food.
“I’ll talk to him, okay?”
You’re a little confused at the weird reaction, but you nod. You’re already feeling a little tired, even though you haven’t even been out of the house that long. You wish you had just stayed in and put this off for another day.
“Just be nice about it. I don’t want him to feel bad. He’s been doing such kind things for me, I don’t want to come off as ungrateful.”
But Boo Seungkwan has a whole other storm brewing in his head as he waves goodbye to you and heads to his dorm. He thinks he has a pretty good idea about what the hell Vernon has been doing, but he needs to be one hundred percent sure about it first.
Vernon is sitting at his desk, headphones on, when Seungkwan taps him on the shoulder. The alpha turns around. Seungkwan decides not to beat around the bush.
“So I was on a lunch date with Y/N.”
Seungkwan can see the exact moment Vernon’s face lights up. He sighs internally. His suspicions are true.
“How is she?” Vernon asks.
Seungkwan plops himself down on the edge of the bed. “Wouldn’t you know that? Since she’s your omega?”
Vernon huffs out a laugh. “She’s not my omega yet.”
Yet. “But you are courting her.” He doesn’t frame it as a question.
Vernon nods. Seungkwan wants to groan.
“And it’s going well?”
“It is.”
“Right. Sure. It’s going so well that the omega you are courting doesn’t even know she’s being courted.”
Vernon pauses, blinking at Seungkwan owlishly. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Vernon’s mouth opens and closes a few times, not unlike a fish. “I don’t understand.”
Seungkwan feels a horrific laugh bubble up in his chest, but he doesn’t say anything. He watches Vernon’s face go through a million emotions, confusion being the predominant one.
“I gave her a courting gift. She accepted.”
“You gave her socks.” Seungkwan deadpans.
Vernon frowns. “She needed them. She told me herself, her feet are always cold.”
Seungkwan groans at that, putting his head in his hands. “Hansol….”
Seungkwan laughs then, but Vernon doesn’t find the situation funny at all. A mild panic is curling in his chest, his mind racing. Did you really not know? Were you really clueless? He hadn’t said it explicitly, sure, but he was certain you got his meaning. He was taking care of you, showing you he could be a good alpha. Was he not clear enough?
Seungkwan’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “A courting gift, especially the first one, has to be something romantic. Like a bracelet or a necklace. Jewellery.”
Vernon puts his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. “I- I just thought it would be better if I gave practical gifts….”
Seungkwan huffs out a laugh. “Practical gifts are great, but fucking toothpaste, man?”
Vernon wants to bash his head into a wall. He looks at Seungkwan with pleading eyes.
“What did she say? Does she not like me?”
Seungkwan shakes his head immediately. “The opposite actually. She thinks you only see her as a friend, and she feels bad about liking you more than that because of how considerate you are.”
Vernon can’t believe his ears. He can’t. You think he’s not interested? He couldn’t have made his interest any clearer. But obviously, he went about it the wrong way, and now you feel shitty because of him. Vernon’s alpha growls, disapproving. He doesn’t like this feeling, knowing that he is responsible for any negative emotion you experience.
He needs to fix this.
Seungkwan doesn’t stop him as he tugs his shoes on, grabbing his phone before he leaves. He’s contemplating on sending you a text that he’s on his way to you, but he remembers the exchange you had with Seungkwan, and he fears that his text might make you spiral. So he just sets off, hoping he can catch you when you’re not too busy so you can talk it out. He always believed he didn’t want to rush you, but if it’s causing miscommunication, then he needs to make his intentions crystal clear.
He reaches your door in record time. You don’t have a dorm mate thankfully, since your last one dropped out and a new one wasn’t appointed to you. This is good, because it means you two can talk openly. He knocks and waits, shifting on his feet. He feels anxious and uncertain, and he prays he hasn’t ruined anything between you two, especially after he tried so hard to make everything go right.
You’re not answering. Vernon tries again, wondering if maybe you have headphones on and can’t hear him. Maybe he should text you that he’s right outside. He’s just contemplating on it when the door swings open.
You have a scowl on your face, lips pulled into a pout as you stick your head out. Cute. Vernon gives you a sheepish smile when recognition dawns on your features.
“Vernon.” Your voice is raspy. He shuffles.
“Sorry. Were you sleeping?”
You blink a few times, rapid movements as if trying to clear your vision. Vernon shifts again, feeling restless. He’s been feeling restless ever since he first knocked on your door. He scents the air instinctively. You smell…. just as you always do. Maybe sweeter? He can’t place it. Something is off, not in a bad way. But he can’t put his finger on it.
“This isn’t a good time.” You say, and your voice is still strained and tired. Vernon’s early anxiety is gone. He feels concern sting at his chest.
“Are you okay?” He has to ask, because a voice inside him is telling him that you’re not. You pause before answering, and it’s a little too long for his taste.
“I’m fine. Just tired. Can we talk in a few days?”
A few days? Vernon’s eyebrows furrow. His nose won’t stop twitching because of the alteration in your scent. He watches you, really watches you, the barely noticeable line of sweat on your hairline, your breathing just slightly more rapid than usual, how you’re gripping the doorframe like it’s holding half your weight. Vernon’s alpha bristles.
“Pre-heat?” He croaks.
You swallow tightly, he can see it with the way your throat bobs. When you don’t deny it, his alpha howls. His fingers twitch. It takes everything in him to not reach for you.
“So, later?” You ask again. He blinks.
“I was courting you.” He blurts. “The gifts. I- I thought I was being clear about it. But I wasn’t. That’s my fault, not yours. I should’ve said it, I should’ve gotten you something prettier or nicer. But I didn’t.”
Your jaw drops at his words. Silence hangs in the air for a few seconds.
“You like me?” Your voice is so tiny, so unsure. Vernon wishes he could rip the heart out of his chest and give it to you to prove that he doesn’t just like you, but that he’s in love with you. But he settles for better words.
“I wanted to show that I could take care of you. That I could be a good alpha and love you the way you deserve.”
Your eyes are bright. Your mouth is slightly open in an ‘O’ shape. You don’t say anything for a long while. Vernon feels despair sink in his head.
“I’m sorry.”
You seem to break from your trance. Your eyebrows draw together. “What are you sorry for?”
Before he can reply, your voice dies and you wince. Vernon feels his chest squeeze, hands reaching out before he can stop himself when he sees your poster hunch forward a little. He hovers uncertainly over you. Being in your space makes your scent get denser, heavier. Vernon grits his teeth hard. His brain feels like it’s short circuiting.
“You should get back inside.” He chokes out. “You shouldn’t be standing up right now. Your cramps will get worse.”
You don’t reply, almost like your mind is fogged. Vernon makes up his mind, very carefully placing his hands on your elbows so he can shuffle both of you backwards into the room.
It smells even more intensely like you inside. Vernon’s eyelids flutter, and he has to stop himself from breathing in deep. He gently guides you to the bed and you follow without much hesitation. You sigh into the pillows once your body relaxes, and Vernon pulls the blanket over you. He notices just then that you’re wearing the navy blue socks he gave you. His heart skips a beat as he leans beside the edge of the bed.
“Do you need anything?” He tries to make a mental list. He’s never really helped an omega with their heat before. When Seungkwan goes into heat, university policy is to leave the dorm and room with someone else for the duration, so he just stays with another friend. But Vernon isn’t a complete idiot, so he thinks. Painkillers, a warm water bottle, sustenance of some kind, something high calorie-
“Just stay here with me.” You pipe up. He freezes.
“I can’t.” He tries to say as placatingly as possible. “Your heat will hit soon.”
You blink up at him, and he notes the thin, shiny layer covering your eyes. “So?”
He stares. “So….. I can’t stay.” Or I will lose my mind.
“Yes, you can. You said you wanted to show me you can take care of me, right?” Your eyelids hang low, eyes only half open as you peer up at him. “So take care of me, alpha.”
Vernon thinks his head is spinning. No, it’s the room. The room is spinning. He is completely still in place, like a statue, because he feels that if he moves, he will sway and topple over. His alpha is howling, a chorus of ‘yes, yes, yes’ that chokes any other thought in his brain. Instead, he clenches his jaw hard and reaches his hand up to rest it carefully on your head. He brushes your hair back slowly. You sigh at his mere touch. You’re heated, already almost burning up.
“Are you sure?” He whispers. “You’re close to heat. You can’t be saying this just because your omega wants an alpha here with you.”
You let out a small laugh. “I’m in pre-heat only. I know what I’m doing. I’ve….. liked you for a while now.”
Vernon can feel how hot the back of his neck is. “Really?”
You nod. He lets out a shaky breath. He can’t believe his ears, almost like someone went in there and scraped all his brains out, leaving his head hollow and light. But his chest is so full that he feels like it will explode.
“Okay.” He says with an air of finality. “I’ll take care of you, I promise. You won’t want for anything. I’m here.”
…………………………….
You don’t really remember much of your pre-heats, generally. Most of the time, you spend it dozing in and out of sleep, eating whatever you’ve stashed in your room beforehand. This one is the same. You’re very sleepy, so you hunker down on your bed and nap as much as you can. The difference this time is that you’re coaxed awake every few hours by an alpha hanging over your bed, helping you sit up and feeding you small bites of warm food instead of your usual packaged stuff.
Vernon leaves whenever you fall asleep, coming back with stuff he picks up from restaurants, all rich and dense food that puts you in a good mood and makes you sleep longer. Two nights after he first showed up, you feel uncomfortable again, so you ask for his hoodie. He doesn’t hesitate for two seconds before he pulls it off and tugs it onto you.
“Better?” He asks as you sink into bed again. You hum in relief. It feels amazing to be surrounded by his scent like this. Your omega settles and your discomfort wanes.
“Much.” You reply. He nods. You watch him putter around, cleaning up plates and looking at how much water you still have. You know that you’re only settling with his hoodie temporarily. As your heat hits, his clothes won’t be enough. You will want him. All of him.
Your face flames at the thought. You really never could’ve imagined that Vernon would want to help you like this. You always assumed he was being a good friend, hence why you wanted Seungkwan to stop him. Because you were getting too attached to him, and you didn’t want to set yourself up for future hurt. Turns out, he was courting you, in some characteristically Vernon way of his. And in a way….. it worked. It made you love him more.
Days pass in your pre-heat haze. When you wake up one day, your back drenched in sweat and your heart racing so fast it makes you pant heavily, you realise you’ve hit your heat. You sit up slowly, struggling to unfold your tense body. Vernon isn’t here, probably out to get more supplies or a change of clothes for himself. Your omega whines. You’re wet between the thighs already. You rub them desperately together. Why is your alpha not back yet?
You’re just psyching yourself up to leave the bed when the door to your dorm swings open and Vernon steps inside, arms weighed by bags. He blinks, surprised to see you awake.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” He asks, pushing the door shut with his heel and placing the bags on your study table. You let out a shaky breath.
“Alpha.”
Something in your voice seemingly registers, because his head jerks up. You can feel his nose twitch when you shift, throwing the blanket off your sweaty body. Your scent hits him. You try to shuffle closer to him.
“Need you, please.”
Vernon wastes no time in toeing off his shoes and walking closer to the bed, settling on it and letting you come to him. You crawl into his lap, sighing in relief when your skin meets his. He still hasn’t taken his jacket off, so you tug impatiently at it. He obliges by discarding it, leaving him in a simple shirt and jeans.
You tuck your head against his neck like it’s second nature, like you’ve done it a million times before. You nose at his scent glands, eager to have it invade your senses straight from the source. You feel his hand run comforting circles over your sweaty back.
“You’re drenched.” He murmurs, tugging at your shirt a little where it’s sticking to your skin. You huff.
“‘M hot.”
“Do you want a change of clothes?”
No. I want you to take them off entirely.
You don’t say it, just biting your lip and nosing at his neck more. You know Vernon is here to help with your heat, but you suddenly feel so shy asking him to. God, this was your idea, and you can’t even bring yourself to verbalise it.
When your silence stretches too long, you feel a soft hand on your jaw, nudging your head up. Your eyes meet wide, brown ones.
“I’m here for whatever you need. Just ask, okay? I can’t know unless you tell me.”
He’s right. He’s being so logical and so sweet about it while you’re wallowing. So you nod, mustering up the confidence to peer up at him and say, “I want you.”
Vernon nods. “Okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
When he leans down to softly brush his lips to yours, your omega whines. You inhale shakily and press closer, kissing him properly. He takes it so slow, like he’s savoring every second of it, running his hands carefully, reverently, down your sides before sliding under the hem of your shirt. His skin is so cool against your heated body, and it’s a welcome relief. You sigh into his mouth.
Vernon grips just a little tighter, your flesh dimpling under his touch. It makes your body shift forward, your core grazing over his jean-clad thigh. Your breath hitches as pleasure zips up from your core.
That sets a charged, lazy rhythm. Vernon guides the movement of your body with a firm grip on your hips, back and forth, back and forth, your cunt sliding over his thigh. The rough material of his jeans provides delicious friction, while your flimsy shorts might as well not be there. You’re soaked through, and if you looked down, you’re sure you would see a dark patch on his jeans. He seems to not care about the fact that you’re ruining his clothes. He moans into your mouth, tenses his thigh periodically in a way that sends a pleasurable jolt up your spine. Your legs are spread wide apart, your slit open, pressing your most sensitive parts to him. He kisses you senseless as the pressure in your core gets tighter and tighter, your movements more rushed, more sloppy. He bites your bottom lip the exact moment your orgasm hits, washing over your body like a tidal wave, leaving you moaning and shaking, Vernon’s sure grip the only thing holding you steady.
“Good. Good girl.” He whispers into your raw, bitten lips. “Perfect. There you go.”
Your trembling body goes limp against his figure. He holds you there for a bit, letting you come down. You process what just happened. This was not what you expected, though you’re not complaining at all. It was so hot.
You’re shifted backwards slowly. Vernon lays you on the bed and presses a sweet kiss on your cheek, pulling back.
“You really should change clothes now, sweetheart.” He says. You giggle breathlessly and nod.
Vernon finds a fresh pair of shorts and a loose shirt. He helps you change. You really don’t feel hesitant about being naked in front of him. Hell, you just rode his thigh and came all over him. Speaking of, his jeans are ruined, you can see it a mile off. Vernon excuses himself to the bathroom once you’re settled, and when he emerges later, he’s dressed in sweats.
You eat the food he brought, more like he feeds you and you let him. It feels nice, being pampered and taken care of like this. You say as much to him. He lets out an airy laugh and shakes his head.
“That’s what my intention was the entire time.” He confesses. “I wanted to be a good alpha to you. And in my opinion, a good alpha is someone who knows how to take care of his omega. I was trying to prove that.”
You smile, watching him set the empty plate aside and pour you a glass of water.
“I already know you’re a good person, Vernon. You didn’t have to do all that.”
He shakes his head. “There’s a difference between being a good person and a good alpha. You needed to know I would be there through thick and thin, and I could anticipate your needs and make your life easier. To be loved is to be known, isn’t that what they say?”
You stare at him, speechless. Your heart squeezes in your chest, and you try to look for words, anything you can say to tell him how much this means to you, how much he means to you. But you’re tired, and your heat is messing with your head, and you can’t think of anything that will properly get your meaning across. So you put down the glass in your hand and lean forward, laying a kiss on his lips.
You feel him stiffen only briefly, kissing you back when he realises what is happening. You feel his hand cup your cheek tenderly, slotting his lips deeper into yours. You sigh into this kiss, kicking forward to once again settle in his lap like you did previously. It’s almost like instinct. It’s comforting for you, and with the way his free arm curls around you, you know he likes it too.
You don’t know if it’s your heat, or just the fact that it’s Vernon, but the air charges quickly, and the kiss deepens. Your bodies undulate together, small moans and sighs until you can feel a familiar ache in your loins, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Alpha.” You whine into him.
“I’ve got you.” He reassures you, like he always has. The world tilts, and you’re laid back on the mattress, his torso pressing you down deliciously. His mouth doesn’t leave you for a second, nipping and kissing, before his tongue licks into your mouth. Your pussy clenches around nothing.
Fingers dip into the waistband of your pajamas, tugging them off in one smooth motion. Fingers prod at your entrance, and you pull your knees up and apart. You’re already so wet, so ready, that he slides two fingers in immediately with next to no resistance.
“Fuck.” Vernon groans at the exact time you gasp. His fingers curl, pressing and rubbing, looking for that one spot. You moan and jerk.
“You’re so wet. You’re gonna ruin the sheets.”
He pulls back enough to look down at you. You watch in awe as the corner of his lip quirks up with a smirk you have never seen before. He looks so sexy like this, it makes your head spin.
“Soak my hand. Wanna feel it.”
You shriek when he presses into your soft spot, back arching off the bed. He coos, watching you with half lidded eyes, biting his bottom lip. You burn under his gaze, but it feels so good. Your orgasm is building up frighteningly quick, and before you know it, your legs are seizing.
You babble incoherently, trying to warn him, one hand fisting his shirt while the other tugs at the sheets. The knot in your core is so tight, ready to burst any moment, and he says the final words to get you there.
“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl. Do what I said. Soak my hand.”
And you do, stars bursting in your vision at the same time that the knot implodes. You can hear how wet the sounds get, sloppy and filthy enough to make you flush. But you’re too preoccupied by how good it feels, washing over your entire body in waves. You know, even before you are fully down, that you are now addicted to this feeling, to him. His scent, heavy and reassuring and endlessly horny, you can tell. And his presence, sure and all encompassing. Your hands, still trembling, reach down, pawing and scratching at his pants.
“Alpha.” You’re surprised you can speak. “Off. Need- need you. Your knot. Please.”
Vernon doesn’t hesitate. With a few precise motions, his pants are pulled off and his shirt follows. You run your hands hungrily over his lean figure. He’s cut. You can trace the muscles, and it makes your mouth water. He’s so hard already, long and veiny and throbbing, and your pussy clenches pathetically. Your hips jerk.
Vernon wraps a hand around his shaft, pumping a few times. You see the precum leak from his tip and dribble down. Your legs twitch when he rubs his mushroom head up and down over your slit, gathering your slick. He groans.
“Look at that. You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?” You watch him bite his lip. You buck up again. Finally, he guides the head down, teasing your rim for a few seconds before sliding the head inside.
Your jaw goes slack as he slides in, inch by glorious inch, until you feel the base of his pelvis meet your skin. You can feel him throb even inside you, your walls squeezing and releasing over and over to try and get used to the massive intrusion. Above you, Vernon’s face is pinched, and he curses loudly.
“Don’t- please don’t do that.” His voice is strained. “I’m gonna cum too soon.”
You can’t help your breathless giggle, but you try to relax a little around him. You both breathe deeply, and finally, you feel the alpha move.
The pace is stable and reverent from the beginning, like he wants to feel every nook and cranny of your cunt around him. He fucks you like he’s making up for lost time, speeding up and then slowing down, watching his cock disappear inside your needy, sopping pussy and pulling out, the shaft shiny with your juices. Your eyes roll up at the feeling, how he carves through your opening, in and out, brushing over all the good spots as he moves. He changes the angle every couple of minutes, and you gasp loudly when he hits you just right.
He reads your body like an open book, immediately honing in on the spot and picking up speed. Skin slaps against skin, a plopping sound that fills the room and only turns you on even more, if that’s even possible. Vernon’s eyes run over every part of you hungrily, like he wants to commit all of it to memory, and you feel like you’re on fire under the heat in his gaze.
“I’m gonna cum again.” You whimper, feeling tears sting at your eyes as your pleasure crests to heights you have never felt before. Your whole body feels like it’s molten lava, bubbling up inside you until it overtakes your every nerve. Your hands scramble for purchase, and Vernon sees. He winds his fingers through yours and pushes up, pressing your intertwined hands above your head. Your back arches, body laid open for his eyes only. And under his watchful gaze, his soft words, you cum hard, wailing as you drench his cock with your juices, squeezing around him so hard that you almost black out. Something swollen catches on your opening. He thrusts rough a few more times before he surges forward, bullying his knot deep inside you. Your eyes roll. Your omega keens.
Vernon releases your hands, running his own carefully down your body, like he wants to milk the rigidity from your limbs. You breathe heavily, trying to blink the tears away. He nuzzles into your neck, nosing at it and inhaling deep. When you feel his tongue lick over your scent glands, you shiver.
“Sorry.” He whispers when feels it. “Too much?”
You shake your head and turn it the other way, baring your neck to him. You feel his shaky exhale. He runs his tongue over your neck again, scenting you properly. You bask in the feeling.
You’re so completely at peace here, with his knot inside you and his tongue on your skin. This is exactly what you needed. And it’s clear to you now that Vernon knows actually what you need, always.
🧼:"Lt. I've been thinking."
💀: "What’s on your mind?"
Perhaps Soap has been thinking a lot about what Ghost's fangs would look like (clearly alpha fangs).😋🫣
content: age gap (reader is early thirties, robby is fifty-ish), suggestive language (but no smut), fade to black, cursing, you’re both yearners, no use of Y/N, omegaverse, dana is trying her best to keep them from creating an HR nightmare but she ships it
18+ MDNI 18+ MDNI 18+ MDNI while this story does not contain explicit sexual content, there are very heavy suggestive themes. this work is considered mature and i ask that minors do not interact
word count: 7.4k
summary: No one has ever caught your scent and not gone running. You expect Robby to react the same. He doesn't.
line dividers from @chrisssiren, mdni banner from @cafekitsune
Omegas are indispensable to any Emergency Department. Their scents are a key factor in keeping patients calm and stopping brawls before they even start. Ever since the Study On Omegan Pheromones in High Stress Locales came out in 1986, most EDs employed at least one omega full time, if not more. Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center is no exception. On staff, they have at least five omegas working at any given time.
(Gloria is always talking about equity polls and patient relations. Robby is just glad she’s not like some of the older directors of medicine he’s worked with. Only thinking about having an omega around for eye candy. Glad that she lets his staff do their work with minimal micromanaging. Definitely some macromanaging, though.)
So, no, it’s not uncommon to see omega doctors and nurses in any part of the ED hierarchy. You don’t hide your scent because you’re hiding your designation. You don’t wear blockers every day because you hate being an omega. It’s because no one has ever liked your scent before. It puts people on edge, sharp and tactile. As if it will wrap around your neck and never let go. Too abrasive for any designation to have, let alone an omega. Even your roommate in college had complained about it. You roomed alone the next year, despite the extra cost.
You don’t care that your coworkers think you’re a beta. You don’t care that your friends can share their scents with you, but you will never be able to share with them. You don’t care because you stopped caring a long time ago. You had to.
It’s not like you’re hiding the fact that you’re an omega, though. If anyone were to ask directly, you would tell them the truth. If they were to check your file, they would see the ‘Ω’ under your Secondary Gender tab. It just…doesn’t come up in everyday conversation. A bit taboo, really, to directly ask someone their designation. An implication that your nose isn’t good enough to tell the difference, even.
COVID changed everything. Losing your sense of smell doesn’t completely preclude you from being affected by pheromones. But scenting is almost as important for your mental health. You read a paper that described the dissonance many alphas and omegas feel when they can sense pheromones nearby but can’t scent them. In developing or presenting youth, the issue is exacerbated. It’s a growing issue across the globe. One that no one can really solve.
But this is an Emergency Department. You don’t have time to worry about that. You sigh, grabbing the next file and asking Mateo to bring them back. Omega female. Presenting for the first time at fifteen. A healthy enough age, if not a bit late. But she seems to have a higher stress response than most presenting omegas. You nod as Mateo tells you she’s ready and you push the door open.
The scent of stressed omega hits you head on and you’re glad that your suppressants help to push back your instincts. There’s something in the back of your throat that wants to purr softly. To soothe the pup on the other side of the room. You shake your head and slip through the curtain, flicking on the scent-neutralizers as you go. The last thing the ED needs is omega pheromones stressing everyone else out. You smile at the girl and turn to the older man standing next to her. A beta. Probably her father.
“Jennifer, hi. I’m going to be your doctor today.” You quietly introduce yourself, glancing down at the screen in your hands. “I see you’ve been in pain for most of the morning. Can you describe it for me?”
“Like cramps.” She says lowly, groaning as you press gently on her lower stomach. You apologize quietly, pulling back turning to the computer to type as she speaks. “But I don’t really get cramps. Not when I’m not on my period.”
“Doctor, is she going to be okay?” The man, you look at the file and see the name David Lowe, asks. Even with his weaker beta scent, you can smell the worry coming off of him. You smile softly, turning back to the pair.
“From the looks of things, this is a regular presentation. I’m going to order some blood tests to be sure there’s nothing else going on, though.” You glance back at her file, scrolling down. You see the COVID written in the notes as you skim and take a breath in, biting your lip. David shifts, noting your change and you try to send another reassuring smile to the pair. It feels wobbly at the edges. “Jennifer, I see on your chart you had a pretty bad case of COVID a few years ago. You were treated here. Were there any lasting effects?”
The unspoken question is clear.
“My sense of smell, it…” She trails off and you nod, stepping toward the bed. You drop a hand on the edge of the bed before looking back at the father.
“The stress response is most likely due to Jennifer being able to sense pheromones but not smell them. It creates a sort of gap in the mind’s senses, which can cause cortisol levels to rise and bring about stress responses. It is common in omegas and alphas who have lost their sense of smell.” You can see the way David grips his daughter’s hand just a little tighter. They know there’s no way to fix this completely. You turn back to Jennifer. “Do you have any omegas that you trust enough to scent you? Even if you can’t smell it, the calming pheromones are proven to help reduce stress.”
Jennifer shakes her head and you look toward the father, who mirrors her action. You hesitate for a moment. There are four other omegas on shift at the moment. You could ask any of them to come in and help. But this is an ED and two minutes of scenting could mean life or death for another patient. You let out a breath and swallow before speaking again.
“If you are open to it, I could help you.” Jennifer’s eyes snap up and she scans you over once again, noting the scent patches that peek out of your scrub top as you tug the collar of your undershirt aside. You can see the hesitation in her gaze and you smile softly, if not a bit nervously, and grab her free hand. You can do this. Jennifer can’t smell. Your scent won’t affect her and the pheromones will help. “I won’t force you. We can give you some tylenol for the cramps and some suppressants to help stave off the worst of your symptoms. But scenting would be faster and have a longer lasting effect.”
Jennifer hesitates for a moment longer before nodding. You look toward David and he nods as well, letting go of his daughter’s hand. You lead him toward the door slowly.
“Okay. Dad, if you want to wait outside, I’ll be as quick as I can. You can watch through the window the entire time.” He nods and the door clicks shut behind him. You turn back to Jennifer, settling down in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed. Fans whirr softly in the vents as they suck out Jennifer’s stressed scent, running it through a scent neutralizer before cycling it back into the room. You smile softly at Jennifer. “Okay, Jennifer. I know scenting can be personal. If you get uncomfortable or want to stop for any reason, you just tell me. Understand?”
Jennifer nods again, glancing out at her father. Her shoulders seem to relax a bit at your words and you tug up the long sleeves of your undershirt, revealing the patches pressed against your wrists. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you peel the patch away. Your scent pierces the air, hard and loud. Jennifer barely responds, just watching as you reach for her wrist.
“May I?” You ask quietly, pausing just inches from her arm. She nods again. You smile softly. She must be shy. You gently lift her wrist, pressing your own against it. The result is almost instant. Jennifer melts into the hospital bed, letting out a purr instinctively. The noise makes her tense, but you run your free hand up and down her arm. “It’s okay. No one is judging you.”
The girl relaxes into the bed again and you reach for her other wrist. You ask again before scenting it as well. When you’re done, you pull a fresh patch from your scrub pants and paste it onto your wrist before tugging down your sleeve.
“Thank you, miss.” The girl finally says, her voice soft as she smiles softly. The stress is almost completely gone from her scent, replaced with something close to antiseptic but even closer to bleach. You wince slightly at your own scent mixed with hers.
“No problem, kid. I’ll call in a nurse to draw your blood and when we get the results back, you should be good to go.”
The door clicks open and you look up, expecting David. Instead, Robby stands in the doorway, brow furrowed as he looks Jennifer over with a critical eye. He steps into the exam room, glancing between the two of you. Sniffs the relaxed scent Jennifer is now giving off. You make a mental note to offer them some scent patches on the way out.
“Dr. Robby, this is Jennifer. She came in complaining of cramps and was experiencing a stress response to presentation. Likely related to loss of smell after COVID a few years ago. I scented her to help reduce stress levels and I was just about to call Mateo in to draw blood for some labs.” You quickly give him the details, hoping you didn’t miss anything. You’re in your second year of residency and your past attendings have always been sure to remind you of your place in the hierarchy. Instead, he just nods, turning his concerned look toward you.
“Good job.” He nods and you feel something warm bloom in your chest at the approval. When he leans in toward you, his scent manages to reach your nose. Deep and warm. Soft. The opposite of your own. You pull back just slightly, realizing Robby knows your scent now. Knows that there’s something inexplicably wrong with you. “Doctor, a word please?”
You can only nod. This has happened before, too. Supervisors who tell you that you can’t scent patients anymore. That you only stress them out further with your scent. You know it’s coming as you follow Robby into the break room. He closes the door softly and you fold your hands behind your back.
“Are you on suppressants?” The question makes you turn toward Robby, eyes wide. This is not what you had been expecting. He looks…concerned? Like he’s not worried about patient satisfaction. Like he’s worried about you. You can only nod, mouth gaping. You feel a bit stupid. Left out of the loop. Robby sits down in one of the shitty plastic chairs, gesturing toward the one next to him. You sit. “How long since you took a break from them?”
“A break?” You look Robby over like he’s gone crazy. Suppressants are there to suppress base instincts and regulate heats. Your mother told you early in your life that suppressants are the only thing that separate civilized society from heathens. You’re not sure you agree with her completely, but they’ve been useful to you since you started on them in college.
“Yes. You are supposed to go off suppressants in time with your heat cycle to help regulate the hormones in your body. If you don’t, it can cause a buildup of toxins in your glands.” Robby’s voice is gentle and soft, as if he’s giving a patient some kind of difficult diagnosis. You tilt your head, trying to force a smile as panic builds in your throat. Robby sighs. “The buildup and affect scents. It’s the body’s way of letting you know what’s happening. And your scent is—”
“Toxic.” You finish, staring down at the table.
“I was going to say it’s showing all the signs of suppressant overuse.” He leans forward and you catch his scent again. It’s faint under the neutralizing lotion he has spread over the glands, but enough to make your eyes widen a fraction. Robby doesn’t seem to notice. “How long have you been on suppressants?”
“A little over ten years.” You say softly, biting at the inside of your cheek. You feel like a pup again, being scolded by your father for watching a PG-13 movie. You feel small. It fucking sucks.
“Ten years? Fuck, you’re—” Robby takes a breath, running a hand through his hair. You notice, not for the first time, that his hands are huge. Bigger than yours, anyway. Much bigger. He meets your gaze and his face is as serious as you’ve seen it when a patient flatlines. You wonder how close your predicament is to death itself. “I’m going to call Dr. Yamazaki and you are going to see her as soon as possible. Then, you are going to do whatever she tells you.”
You want to argue. Mostly just to be contrary. But you can’t when Robby looks at you like that. When he uses that voice that you usually only get to hear during an emergency. So you nod. You feel like a fifteen year old girl again. A fucking pup.
The consultation doesn’t take long. Yamazaki takes one sniff of you and confirms everything Robby had said. She also takes some blood to have official tests done. They come back within the hour. Suppressant overdose. Not nearly as dangerous as most overdoses, but a silent killer to those who ignore it. With a folder of information packets that make your cheeks heat, you trudge back to the ED.
“So?” Robby’s voice behind you makes your shoulders jump as you punch in the code to your locker. You look back and see him eying the folder as it lays on the bench. One of the brochures sticks out. Your First Heat! You flush and shove the folder into your bag. You’ve had a heat before. Multiple. But that had been ten years ago. Yamazaki basically told you that your use of suppressants had reset your system. Everything would feel like the first. You remember your first heat. It sucked.
“Yamazaki said I have to go completely off suppressants until they clear out of my system. Could take months.” Robby nods, glancing out at the ED to make sure everything is running smoothly before leaning against the wall.
“Okay. Let me know when you need time off for your heat.” He says it so casually. And, you suppose, it’s no worse or more invasive than all the other shit you see on the daily. But it feels different when it’s your heat Robby’s talking about. You make another mental note to be a bit more gentle when talking about such topics with your patients. At this point, you think you’re gonna need a whiteboard in your brain for all these notes.
“About that…uh,” You pause, nervously fidgeting with the tie of your scrubs. Robby’s eye flickers down to the movement and you force your hands to still. “Yamazaki said it will be a pretty fast onset once I officially stop suppressants. Like, within a week?”
Robby pats your shoulder once and you can smell him again. Better this time, with his wrist right next to your nose. Woodsy, maybe something like cedar? And something dark and rich. He pulls away before you can identify it. “Go home. Get some sleep. I’ll explain it to Dana and we’ll put you down as on-call. Until your heat, only come in if we call. You need rest.” He takes a short breath and steps back just slightly, looking down at you carefully. “Let me know when your heat starts. I’ll get you the week off.”
Your cheeks flush. As much as the suppressants keep you less instinctual than most alphas or omegas may feel without, the idea of telling an alpha when your heat is starting makes you dizzy. An unmated, admittedly quite attractive alpha with a scent you want to huff. Okay, down girl. Time to go.
You can’t make words come out of your mouth as you nod, slamming your locker closed and practically running out of the ED.
Robby had felt something in his chest twist when he caught your scent. Ugly and abrasive, chemical. He’d caught it before, but never this strong. He could barely hear as you presented your patient, focused on the tangy undertone he could smell beneath the severe scent. It was wrong. Like an OR after a failed surgery. Too clean. Like bleach and failure. That’s now what your scent should be.
Not you, who always pushes forward. Who faces every case head-on, even when Robby can tell you’re terrified. Your scent should be bright and sharp. Only abrasive to those who are afraid of something real.
He’s imagined it before. Your scent. Always thought it was strange that you didn’t ever seem to have one. Empty space in the invisible map he creates in his head. Robby always knows where his people are. Can track them across the hospital with a sniff. Not quite as good as Dana, the bloodhound herself. Even she hadn’t caught your scent before, which had sent a shot of confusion up Robby’s spine when he first heard. He was almost proud to be the first one to catch it. Then worry flooded his entire body in a way that he has to physically suppress.
God, he hates this. Hates the way he can tell you’re scared. And instead of facing it with a bright hope in your eye, you’re shying away from him. Scared and resigned, like nobody has ever helped you before. Like you’re used to being shunted off. God, he fucking hates this.
You think about him during your heat. Not the whole time. Just when his face pops into your mind and you imagine it hovering over you while his hands—shit. And you feel bad about it. Robby may be unmated, but he has also never given an inkling of wanting to be mated. Especially not around you. So you pretend you didn’t. You pretend that nothing clicked inside of you during the two weeks you were gone and you pull into the parking garage at 6:48 like everything is normal.
The patches on your neck and wrists are thin and scratchy, but Dr. Yamazaki had said anything stronger would only slow your recovery. So instead of the soft, thick, medical grade scent patches, you get to use the ones from the dollar store that are cheerfully labeled suppressant free! like it’s a feature. They don’t hide your scent the way the other ones had. Just dull it down enough that it won’t affect anyone while you work. No lotion, no extra-strength scent patches.
“Hey, kid.” Dana greets you first as you trudge through the parking lot. Your undershirt covers the patches but does nothing to further dampen the newly exposed scent. Dana sniffs the air. She’s got the best nose you’ve had the displeasure of meeting. “That you? Suppressant overdose?” Her voice is gentle and it grates at you a little. Pity is the last thing you want.
“That obvious?” You try to joke. Dana grins, swinging an arm around your shoulders and messing with your hair. You don’t miss the way her wrists brush against your shirt. She’s scenting you. The acrid smell of suppressants (that you hadn’t thought was too bad when you left for work) disappears under her honey and cigarette smoke. You can’t help letting out the tiniest rumble of a purr. Dana doesn’t comment on it.
“It’s no big, kid. We’ve all forgotten to take a suppressant break at some point.”
You smile, something relieved finally relaxing against your ribs. You must smell better now if even Dana’s nose can’t tell how much shit you had put your body through.
Dana pushes open the employee door, holding it behind her as you step through. She doesn’t even seem to register the action and you wonder if this is some kind of alpha thing. If she’s scented you and now she feels responsible. Even if it’s just little stuff like holding the door. You decide very quickly that it doesn’t matter. You just want to get on with your shift.
Handoff goes well. Quick and efficient. You don’t want to say that the night shift had been quiet, but the estimated waiting time is only three hours. At the moment. You know that number will only go up. So you pick the name at the top of the list and get started. You don’t see Robby until afternoon. Really, it’s a shock it took this long. He’s usually everywhere, but you try to stay on triage. Easy stuff. Hopefully nothing deadly. By the time you glance up at the clock again, its 2:03 and your stomach is going to plan a revolt if you don’t give it a suitable sacrifice soon.
“I’m taking my lunch. Don’t call me unless someone’s dying and everyone else is elbows deep.” You call out to Dana as you drop off a tablet at the charging station. She just laughs and reaches out to run her wrist along the inside of your arm. You manage to hold back the noise that wants to escape this time.
The break room is a quiet haven from the chaos of the ED. Noise is muffled and soft through the door and you can almost pretend you’re back in your shitty apartment as you take a bite of cold pasta. It would be better warm, but you’re afraid someone will actually start dying and you’ll get called away before you can take a single bite. The door opens and you hold back an annoyed groan as sound fills the room again before muffling once more. Robby stands in front of the door, staring at you with his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets.
You can smell him. The first thing you realized after stopping on suppressants is that your own nose improved. Sharper. Maybe a little more biased toward certain scents. The second thing was that no one else wears the medical-grade patches that you had. They use light ones that dampen their scents enough to be decent, but release enough to tell people who they are. For the past few years, you’ve been negative space. Scentless and invisible.
“Dr. Robby.” Your voice is carefully neutral as you bring your sleeve closer to your face, pretending to scratch at your cheek. Dana’s scent is stronger from this close and it drowns out Robby’s deep forest. He still hasn’t moved from the door. You tilt your head, unaware of how the action exposes the top of your scent patch.
“You smell like Dana.” Is all he says, finally moving toward the coffee pot on the counter. He curses at the empty pot and pulls out a filter. You watch, brow furrowed at his statement. Because it sure as hell hadn’t been a question. You decide that an explanation is probably in order anyway.
“She caught me in the parking lot. There’s still some chemical-y stuff left in my scent from the suppressants, so she was helping cover it up.” Your eyes catch on the way Robby squeezes a mug in his hands. His knuckles aren’t quite white, but they’re pale enough for you to worry that he’s about to shatter the ceramic in his hands. “Is that against hospital policy? I can ask her to stop.”
“No, I just…” Robby’s voice trails off as the coffee machine gurgles. You wait for a few minutes in silence as he stares at the machine. Finally, the mug hits the counter with a clack and Robby turns toward you. “If you wanted, I could…uh, help.”
Your face must be on fire from how hot your cheeks are. The idea of being covered in Robby’s scent all day, claimed, makes you glad you’re sitting. Had you been on your feet, you’re sure your knees would have given out. You clear your throat, hoping the flush that’s quickly spreading down your neck isn’t too visible. You can’t. You’re sure that focusing on work would be impossible. And you cannot let yourself entertain the idea of Robby. In any way. Dana is safe. She’s married, mated, has two kids of her own. You enjoy her scent because it feels like a warm hug after a long day. Relaxing on the front porch with a smoke. You quickly shake your head.
“Thank you, but I think I’ll be okay.” You hope your voice sounds even. Robby doesn’t want you. He wants to help you. As your boss. As your friend? But not as a mate. This isn’t courting. You push out of your chair, stomach suddenly feeling like a revolt again. Robby watches as you practically run out of the break room, leaving behind your half-finished lunch.
Robby assumes it’s just an instinctual thing, the way his chest tightens when you reject his scent. It must be one of those things deep down that Robby is always trying so hard to ignore. He’s not sure why it’s so hard to do that this time. Maybe it’s because he had caught your scent on the way out, underneath Dana’s. Still sharp, but less chemical. Something sweet buried under it all. A scent he wanted to follow out the door. He thinks he might have—if you hadn’t smelled like another alpha.
(It’s Dana’s scent, Robby has to remind himself. Dana, who was just trying to help. Dana, who is mated, who treats you like a pup. Like she does with all the residents and interns. The reminder doesn’t help as much as Robby had hoped it would.)
He’s snapped out of his thoughts as the break room door swings open. Samira’s scent catches on his nose as she moves toward the coffee pot. Spice and sweet bread. Not quite as sharp as yours seems like it would be. Fuck. Robby leaves, pushes past her back out into the chaos of the ED.
Robby spends the rest of his long shift moving from one patient to another. Even if he’s not their physician, Robby doesn’t leave a bedside for more than a moment. Doesn’t stand in front of the screen deciding which patient he wants to check in on. He just moves from intern to resident to patient and back to a new intern. He pointedly skips over you on the imaginary roster in his mind. Maybe it’s on accident, the way you always seem to be with another patient or checking on chairs when he stops by your patients’ rooms.
It’s not until he’s walking home that his brain finally quiets down enough for the thought to break through. It was a rejection. Maybe not a conscious one, but a rejection nonetheless. Robby had offered you his scent and you denied him. Even if Robby hadn’t meant it like that (did he?), even if you hadn’t taken it that way (did you?). Somewhere, deep down, you had decided you didn’t want his scent on you. The thought makes Robby’s chest burn hot and sharp. Why does he even care? You’re just his resident. Nothing more. Right?
He may not be the most expressive person around others, but Robby knows his own feelings. He spends a lot of time alone with them. The one clawing at his chest from the inside out isn’t one Robby thinks he’s felt before. He imagines this must be how patients feel during open heart surgery. He tries to ignore the sensation as he shoves open the door to his apartment.
“Jesus, brother. What happened to you?” Robby spins around to see Jack sitting on his couch, nose scrunched. The other alpha’s prosthetic leans against the coffee table and he holds the remote in loose fingers. Robby rubs at his forehead, letting out a long sigh.
“Jack, what are you doing here? You’re gonna give me a fucking heart attack.” Robby grits out, forcing himself to breath slowly. God, he’s getting old. Maybe that’s why you don’t want him. You’re a young woman, a young doctor. You have a whole life and career ahead of you. Why would you want some old man like Robby?
“Seriously, man. I know it’s your place, but you stink.” Jack’s voice is teasing, but Robby can catch a hint of concern under it all. Robby tries to rein in his scent, wet and smoky like a forest fire. He can tell from the look on Jack’s face that it’s not working. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Maybe after a beer. Or four.” Robby sighs as he moves toward the kitchen. He pulls two beers out of the fridge and tosses one to Jack. He catches it and Robby grins, applauding mockingly. Jack flips him off. “Remind me why you’re in my apartment again?”
“Dana called. Said you were acting weird.” The can hisses in Jack’s hand as he pops it open. “She tried to talk to you at the ED, but apparently you’re avoiding her. She could smell you from across the room, man. I didn’t believe her at first but that was before you came in and filled the place with your stank.”
“It is my place, you know. Pretty sure I’m allowed to stink it up all I want. Especially when my company is uninvited.” Robby cracks open his own beer, taking a long sip. Shit. He had known he was avoiding you, but Dana? He hadn’t meant to. It’s not her fault you don’t want Robby. Damn it, now he has to apologize. “You really came all the way here just ‘cause Dana called you?”
“You know she’s not one to worry unless it’s called for, Robby.” Jack levels him with an unimpressed glare.
Robby downs the rest of his beer in three gulps and crushes the can in his fist. “I need a shower. I assume you’re not leaving until we…talk?” Robby shivers exaggeratedly as he says the word. It gets a chuckle and an easy nod from Jack as he raises his can in a mock salute. It’s Robby’s turn to flip off Jack now.
It takes a few hours and three more beers for Robby to finally start talking. Jack stuck around because he knows Robby. Knows he needs some lubrication before talking about anything remotely important.
“I was rejected.”
Jack pauses, his drink halfway to his mouth. He glances over at Robby, brow scrunched. “Okay…”
“No, not—I mean…” Robby sighs, putting his can down on the low coffee table and turning his body to face Jack. He wrings his hands nervously, cheeks heating. Maybe Robby is too old to get this worked up over a rejection. When he finally speaks again, his voice is quiet. Small. “I offered to scent an omega. She said no.”
“Oh.” Jack’s can slips in his hand, wet with condensation. He catches it before it can fall, but Robby barely even notices.
“Yeah.”
“Do I know her, or…?” Jack sets his can down on a coaster on the table, turning his body to face Robby as well. Robby hesitates for a moment before whispering your name. Jack nods slowly, recognition in his gaze. His hand reaches out, warm against Robby’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay, brother. I promise.”
Robby lets Jack tug him close. Lets his friend wrap warm arms around him. Lets himself breathe shakily. Jack doesn’t tell him he’s overreacting. He doesn’t tell Robby that he’s weird for being so invested in a resident. Doesn’t really say anything. Just holds Robby close. It helps.
Your next heat isn’t supposed to happen for at least a month. That was what Dr. Yamazaki had told you. But when you swing by her office to ask about the pre-heat symptoms you’ve been feeling, she just smiles gently and tells you that being on suppressants for so long can mess with your heat cycle. It will regulate itself again soon. You wish soon could happen sooner. Especially with how Robby has been avoiding you lately. You wonder if he can smell your pre-heat. If he hates the scent so much he can’t bear to be around you.
The day before your second heat leave within a single month (how embarrassing), you shove your things into a bag at your locker. Robby stands stiffly a few feet away and you almost want to reach out. Want to ask what you did so wrong. But you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, much less speak to him. So you hide behind your locker door and pretend to busy yourself until he leaves.
“Robby, I got a question about the guy in North 7.” You turn down the hall to see Abbot standing there in his scrubs, glaring down at the screen in his hands like it personally wronged him. Robby sighs, moving past you as he pulls on his glasses. The way his eyes look behind those lenses, the way the frames compliment his face, it really shouldn’t affect you this much. You tell yourself it’s just your pre-heat and shove your locker shut.
You don’t know why you glance down at Robby’s bag. Don’t know why you lean over to look into his locker. The small space smells like him. Not super strong, but enough for you to take a deep breath in before you realize what you’re doing. Despite the heat rising in your cheeks, you can’t pull away. You glance both ways down the hall before your hand shoots out, grabbing at a piece of fabric in the locker. A jacket. You sniff at it. God, it smells like him. Your eyes catch on the logo fading on the fabric. The jacket Robby wears almost every day. The one he keeps in his locker in case he gets cold. The one he will most definitely notice if it goes missing. You shove it into your bag without another thought, wondering if you’ve finally gone crazy. That’s it. You need to get out of here.
Dana calls out a goodbye as you rush out the door and you can barely send a distracted wave over your shoulder. You can only hope that no one caught Robby’s scent around you. Maybe it’s not as strong as you think. Maybe you’re just locked into it. Or maybe you’re just panicking.
But, god, he’s all you can smell. You practically slam your car door shut as you collapse into the seat. Breaths come fast and rough as you hug your bag tight. Robby’s scent seems to fill the car and you feel dizzy. You toss the bag into the footwell of the passenger seat and shove your keys into the ignition. A sigh escapes from your mouth as the window rolls down with a buzz. Fuck, you really should have taken today off.
Robby’s day hasn’t been great. Nothing serious. No lost patients. Just you walking around in fucking pre-heat. You, with your scent that’s been clearing up so nicely. Still sharp, but just enough to catch your attention. And you’ve been catching Robby’s attention. The whole shift had consisted of Robby trying to stay as far away from you as possible. He can’t get his brain to form words, let alone diagnose patients, when you glide across the open doorway of an exam room. His distraction meant more annoyed patients, which did not help his speedily declining mood.
And now his jacket is missing. He stepped away from his locker for five seconds and now his jacket is missing. The ambulance doors slide open and a cool breeze blows past Robby and he can feel the goosebumps over his arms.
“What’s wrong with you?” Robby turns to see Dana leaning against the wall outside the ambulance bay. She has a thick jacket zipped up to her chin as she takes a drag from her cigarette. Robby steps toward her, letting his back hit the wall with a soft thud. When Dana holds out her cigarette, he barely hesitates. The drag he takes is probably too long.
“Been a long fucking day already and now my jacket’s gone and I’m walking home.”
Dana snorts. When Robby looks up to shoot her a glare, she levels him with a look so unimpressed, Robby is almost embarrassed that he tried. “Wasn’t your girl by the lockers with you?”
“She’s not my—” Robby cuts himself off, warmth burning in the apples of his cheeks. Dana laughs, taking her cigarette back. He barely notices, leaning more heavily against the wall. The jacket had been there before Jack called him away. By the time Robby returned, both you and the jacket were gone. “She rejected me. Why would she take it?”
Robby doesn’t look to see the face Dana makes at his admission. He can see her drop the cigarette as he looks at his feet, watching as she smashes it under her shoe. “I’d tell you to ask her yourself, but she’s on heat leave.”
“I know.” He mutters. Robby lets out a long sigh, leaning his head back against the concrete. “She told me a few days ago.” The hand gripped his arm before Robby could even realize what was happening. Dana was looking at him with an expression that said are you a goddamn idiot??
“An unmated omega told you their heat was starting? And you think she’s rejected you?” There was something deeper than disbelief on Dana’s face. Maybe bewilderment. Definitely some disappointment. “Jesus. Your mind, Robinavitch.”
“Well, I asked her to—“
“Michael, that’s harassment! You can’t just ask your subordinate to tell you when their heat is.” Dana’s voice is a low hiss, but Robby can see a gleam of smug satisfaction in her gaze. “That’s more direct than asking to scent them, you idiot. Christ, I can’t believe you!”
He looks down at her with wide eyes. Her lips are pressed tightly together. Holding back laughter, he realizes after a moment. Robby tries for a glare, but he can feel his cheeks practically catching fire. His voice stutters just a bit as he speaks. “So you’re saying she might—”
“I’m saying that she didn’t report you to HR for asking which week she was going to be fucking herself silly. I’m saying you’re both idiots!” She pulls her hand away, smacking Robby’s arm as she does. He winces. Dana finally releases her laughter, grabbing Robby’s hand. She takes a pen out of her pocket and scribbles across his palm. Robby’s flush spreads to his cheeks as he reads the address written on his hand. Most likely your address. Dana doesn’t release his hand yet. “If you fuck this up, I’m throwing you into the incinerator in the basement.”
Robby nods, not hesitating for even a second. If he hurt you, he deserved that much at least. Dana looks him over once before releasing his hand. She shoves him gently, grinning. Robby can only make himself wave as he jogs in the direction of your street.
You’ve finally settled in front of your television, wrapped in that warm jacket, when you hear the knocks. Soft, almost tentative. Like whoever is here doesn’t know if they should be. You sigh, pushing off the couch and slowly making your way toward the door. You don’t even bother looking out the peephole. It’s probably just someone lost in the apartment complex. Wrong floor, most likely. Happens sometimes.
You keep the chain locked on the door as you pull it open just enough to greet whoever is standing there. Words elude you as Robby’s familiar silhouette fills your field of vision. He’s in scrubs, just a tshirt under his scrub shirt. No jacket. Because you stole his jacket. You’re wearing his jacket. While the undiluted scent of your pre-heat rolls off of you in thick waves. Just the sight of him is enough to make you lean against the doorframe, knees weak.
“Dr. Robby, I—I can explain.” You murmur, gripping at the jacket. His eyes flick down and something shifts on his face as he sees the fabric hanging off of you. A noise escapes your throat as you watch him sniff the air. Your scents combined. Dark woods and sharp citrus. Morning dew and crushed berries.
“Can I come in?”
The words make you freeze. Robby is an alpha. He knows you’re slowly falling into your heat. Robby is an unmated alpha. He just asked to come inside. You’re still wearing his jacket. A thought flutters through your mind and the air immediately sours. Rotten fruits scent the hall. Robby immediately shifts, looking around for what could have possibly upset you. (Was it him? Is he moving too fast?)
“Is this just because of my scent?” You force out, voice steadier than you thought it would be. Robby opens his mouth to say something. “I’ve liked you for a while. I didn’t say anything because you’re…you. Chief Attending. One of the best ER doctors in the East. I’ve respected you since we first met, so if this is just because I smell like an actual omega now, I can’t…”
“No! I mean, yes, your scent probably made me realize it, but you are one of the best residents I’ve ever had.” He reaches his hand out, pausing inches away from the door. The physical barrier between you two. “You’re a quick study and I’ve always liked the way you smile when you do a difficult procedure. I think—I have probably liked you since that first day. I promise you.”
You stare at him for a few seconds. Your heart is beating at about a million miles an hour and you push the door shut. The chain rattles as you pull it away and reopen the door. Wide enough for Robby to step inside as you hold the door handle with sweaty palms. He slides past you, brushing his shoulder against yours. Fuck, he’s scenting you. Another noise escapes you, something like a chirp. Robby doesn’t turn to look at you, but the corners of his lips twitch up. You can see the warmth on his cheeks as he does that adorable shrug. You want to climb him like a tree. You take a deep breath in, exhaling sharply as his scent fills your lungs.
“Do you want tea?” You turn toward the kitchen, nervously playing with the long sleeves of Robby’s jacket.
“You’re making it real hard to want anything but you, sweetheart.” You feel his hands on your hips, not grabbing, just resting. He’s not hold you against him, you could easily step out of his grip if you wanted. You think that might be the last thing you would ever want. “Fuck. You look so good. Smell so fucking good.”
His nose presses against your neck carefully, just barely brushing the skin. A shiver slips down your spine and you shift to face Robby. His face is warm between your hands and you can see the red tips of his ears. How can he be so adorable? You force your eyes to stay on him as you cradle his jaw in your hands. He practically melts into the contact.
“Robby—”
“The name’s Michael, sweetheart.” Robby murmurs, pressing his lips against your palm. His beard scratches against your palm and you’re glad you finally get to feel this. You never could have imagined this sensation. Even if you tried, it wouldn’t do this justice. You grin.
“Dr. Robinavitch,” You say instead, leaning up toward him. He meets you in the middle, your foreheads pressing together. His laughter puffs against your lips and you can’t help grinning. The scent glands on his neck are so close. You finally give into that instinct, pressing your face against his neck to breathe in deep and fast. Laughter vibrates through his vocal chords and you force yourself to pull back (very difficult) and study Robby’s face (very easy). “What’s so funny?”
“I just think I really, really like you.” His voice is low and soft as his lips brush against yours. Finally. You can’t respond as he presses harder against you. But you do tell him, hours later, as you both lay next to each other, exhausted.
bear hybrid! könig with bunny hybrid! reader ૮ ྀིᴗ͈.ᴗ͈ ྀིა
masterlist ᢉ𐭩
bear hybrid! könig who loves to bother bunny hybrid! reader by laying on the top of their head and sniffing their scent.
bear hybrid! könig who constantly comes home with damp fur from swimming by the river all afternoon, catching a batch of fish to eat for dinner.
sometimes, he'll even pick some berries and grapes on the way home. because his little häschen deserves only the best after all!
bear hybrid! konig who will constantly bother you simply because he wants to cuddle.
you don't get it häschen, it's just so much better to do it together!
bear hybrid! könig who will gently nudge you awake with his nose, sometimes even playfully lapping at the side of your cheek to annoy you.
"komm on häschen, play with me ja?" he’ll chuckle amused.
bear hybrid! könig who will mark his territory by leaving his scent on everything you own—your room, clothes, bed, books, hell even your tactical gear!
bear hybrid! konig who will let others know you’re mated by leaving multiple bites and marks around your body.
his mating mark is already on your neck and everyone can smell him on you from 10 meters away. but they need to know hasi, don't you want them to?
bear hybrid! könig who is very vocal during mating, constantly praising and making sure his little hasi is enjoying as much as he is.
bear hybrid! könig who loves play fighting with you. although it constantly ends up with you bent over the bed, he swears it isn’t intentional häschen!
Spreading in the air a certain form of authority? Maybe.
But with all these benefits in sight and blessed by a high managerial position in Japan's biggest media outlet, Choso was quite shy. Always courteous, greeting everyone in the office with a little nod of his head, gentle voice never raising an octave, even if one of his workers made the same mistake for the third time – truly the best manager you could imagine.
Well, maybe he wasn't shy towards everyone, but some people noticed that whenever his eyes fell on a certain pretty omega in the office, his cheeks suddenly– oh, someone please bring manager Choso a glass of water!
Because he needed a single glance, one word, the flowery aroma reaching his nostrils to suddenly turn into the mushiest, most miserable man walking on this earth. His tongue would twist, lips stutter, throat clamp on every single word, while he tried to give you – his subordinate, for God's Sake – a polite explanation of why this excel sheet wasn't working as it should and which formula failed.
You listened to him with a creased forehead, slightly pouted lips, hand on your hip, as you would, bent over to the monitor on his desk and ask whether you could write it like this. Your arm would lean on the back of his chair, face too close to his, hair smelling like an apple, and he would need to hold his breath while you tried to understand what exactly your mistake was.
Everyone in the office saw it, how their manager was down bad for his best worker – always keeping everyone in place, always a bit too bossy, always arguing that your idea was, in fact, better. And he would always, always, admit that you were right and let you off the hook, solely because he couldn't look into your eyes for longer than five seconds. And no one minded, for he always stood up for his team whenever there was an issue with other leaders, and you would always stay in the office longer, just to help a new intern with her work.
In conclusion, everyone loved you both.
But, oh, their manager was so pitiful, looking at you with yearning like a puppy, while you kept him wrapped around your finger like a viper.
Because you noticed it too – every shy glance, every tremor of his voice, every shudder of his breath, when you stood next to him in the elevator. How he just couldn't pull himself to chat with you, although he talked casually with everyone else in the office. How every time he explained why you need to redo something, he would add I-I like your idea, bbut here... and you would scoff – but here what? I did it exactly as the client asked. He would scratch the back of his head, clear his throat and admit that y-yeah it's fine.
He loved the scent of your pheromones, although you always took suppressants to appear as a neat and assertive employee. But when the morning elevator was a bit packed, and he stood directly behind you, his head would unosciously dip down to your neck, s-sorry it's too crowded, and you would unconsciously release your sugary aroma, manager, please try to move a bit.
Oh, he was a lost cause! Such a handsome man, dominant alpha at that, with more than a few omegas glancing back at him sweetly. At his broad back, filling the shirts, long legs hugged loosely by elegant trousers, and veiny forearms, he would show from time to time when the sun was too scorching. He was always courteous to omegas, never showing them his dominant nature (compared to other managers such as Sukuna from the PR), but keeping the relations friendly but professional.
And with so many choices right in front of his eyes, he still somehow couldn't help but long for this one bossy and unreachable employee.
Until...
Until you came into the office a bit feverish. With flushed cheeks and little hoarseness in your voice. With pheromones slightly stronger than usual, although only Choso noticed this small change (he had his fair share of smelling your neck at 8 a.m. in the elevator). I'm fine, you ensured, when your coworker asked whether you felt okay, it's just a little cold. And with hours passing by, you started to get warmer and warmer. Your breath sweeter, lips pouted, eyes glancing between the clock and the screen of your computer every few seconds.
And Choso?
Choso was going into a rut.
It was sudden, unpredictable, too early. But it seemed that your little, daily encounter in the elevator woke something in him. Something that now made both of you wriggle uncomfortably on the chairs, with necks sweating and a horrifying amount of suppressant trying to combat the unavoidable.
To say the air in the office was tense would be an overstatement. Everyone felt it. You – being bolder than usual. Him – not able to look into your eyes longer than a second. You – ending another quarrel with a scoff and rolled eyes. Him – stammering so badly, the employee sitting right next to him felt almost maternal. He looked embarrassed, heartbreaking, like a scolded child.
And when 6 p.m. finally clocked, with all the other employees leaving their places, everyone glanced back at their manager with pity.
As the only person he was staying with was you.
You and your pheromones that started to get stronger, almost aggressive, with lashes fluttering in front of the blue screen and hand gripping the sweaty back of your neck. It was pulsing in need, burning the pads of your fingers as you looked at your manager, trying to hide himself behind the monitor.
You could feel his pheromones, slowly released into the office's air, carefully, shyly, smooching your blushed skin. It smelled heavy but sweet, like a mix of woodsy fireplace and vanilla, tickling your nerves pleasantly and causing another wave of slickness collect at your fluttering cunt.
Because one thing you couldn't deny was that your manager was hot.
And you may or may not have enjoyed the pathetic state you always pushed him to.
So when the occasion, such as this one, came, with both of you being clearly affected by one another and your cunt desperately needing something to lock on, you truly couldn't miss it.
"Manager."
Oh no.
No, no, no.
Choso wished for nothing but to not hear your lovely voice right this second, as he already could barely keep himself in one place.
"Manager, could you please look at this?"
His throat bobbed, lips fell open. "C-can it wait till next the n-next week?" Eyes glancing swiftly at the clock. "I think we can go, it's l-late and–"
"Manager, it's urgent."
Urgent my ass, you thought, but looked with a cunning smile at the Choso's broad, slowly standing up, figure, with...
Oh my.
With quite a bulge in his trousers.
He noticed your eyes, glued to this one spot, and before he could try to cover it with a folder, you hissed. "Don't."
He glanced up. Stunned, dizzy, his brain flipping your words, fingers still clutching the folder.
"Crawl to me."
He was supposed to be the dominant one here, but the moment these three words left your plumped lips, he became nothing but a dog.
Knees hit the floor, eyes locked on your thighs spreading on the chair, with your fingers slowly, slowly pulling the pencil skirt up, till it latched near your hips.
His knees slid on the carpet, hands moving your way gradually, eyes never leaving a wet patch on your lingerie.
Cock? Leaking.
"Manager, you're always so helpful and obedient, hm?" you giggled, seeing as he was mere steps from your legs. "Why do you let others treat you like a pushover?"
"O-only you," he mumbled, sounding already drunk.
"Ah, only me? And why is that, manager? Why are you so nice to me?" you felt his hands gripping your ankles, fingers gliding up through your eyes, knees, plump thighs, already wet with sweet slick. The sight alone made him shake, with the flowery smell of your pheromones moving straight to his cock.
"C-can I?" he almost begged, biting trembling lip and darting straight at your covered cunt.
"My eyes are up here," you barked, meanly, noticing how his teary eyes immediately shot up.
"I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry," oh how pathetic! "M-my omega, can I?"
You raised an eyebrow. "Yours?"
He hissed when your feet pressed the wet bulge of his trousers. "I'm sorry, I thought–"
"You thought what, manager?"
He nuzzled his cheek into your wet thighs, lips kissing sloppily the slick that gathered on your skin, licking, sucking, moaning at the sheer taste of your sweetness.
Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb rubbing it gently, while he licked your thighs clean, trying to get closer to your clothed cunt.
"I t-thought I could knot you, right? P-please let me knot you, let me make you mine. I-I want you to be mine, please please please," last pleadings came out ragged, as you pushed his bulge harder. "I-I need you s-so bad, let me eat you out, l-let me fuck you–nghh."
Your fingers clenched, brows furrowed, thighs spread wider, as the needy, slutty omega inside you truly wanted nothing more than to take his huge knot.
So you took it.
After the long session of him eating you out on his desk and cumming at least twice directly into his pants, before he finally sank inside your warm pussy.
And when he did? Dear God, nothing could make him stop from pounding you relentlessly, with your new slick forming around the base of his cock, dripping down his wooden desk. His lips swallowed all your needy moans, teeth skimmed dangerously close to scent glants, nuzzling his nose against them just to keep himself dizzy and drunk on your smell.
You cried, begged, as he pushed all the brattiness out of you, with your cunt clenching around his fat shaft and a bulge forming slowly around its base. You mewled like a little slut, keeping him tight and warm, wriggling under the pressure of his heavy hands, folding you in half. His thrusts were sloppy, messy, drenched, with nothing but filthy squelching filling the dark office, as he had you spread right on his desk.
Quiet please please please, and thank you thank you thank you, sometimes maybe I love you love you love you, fled his throat every time you clenched around his girth and released more of your pheromones. His head kissed your pudgy womb, cock barely moving through the tight muscles of your cunt as she sucked him in, trying to milk him dry.
"Mhmm Cho, fuck, you feel so good mmm so fucking good," you wailed, feeling as he shuddered inside you. "If I knew, I would let you fuck me sooner, you perv," a small giggle escaped your lips, as he furrowed his brows, eyes looking at you with this familiar hint of humiliation.
"P-please stop talking."
Your head tilted. "Why? Aren't you a perv? You think I didn't hear you masturbating in the storage? Moaning my name like a wh–"
His thrusts suddenly became frenzier, messier, with a fat cock pushing through your walls, scratching pleasantly every warm corner of your cunt.
"P-please just shut up," his voice was low, but still gentle, whimpering needily as he quickened his pace.
"Make me cum, and next time I'm gonna bring you my dirty panties covered in heat's slick."
And, well, it did something, because the next second you felt him cum. Lips blubbering, fingers on your clit, small circles making you absolutely insane, as he cummed in waves, filling you up nice and fully, making you shake on his cock. And then – POP!
A sharp cry, his teeth sinking in your neck, tears rushing down your cheeks as his fat knot slipped in, pushing, forcing itself through a tight ring of your muscles. The pleasure was blinding, with his little whimpers right next to your ear and teeth going deep, till you felt nothing but pulsing of your neck and his sticky cum smooching your womb.
There was a moment of silence, with nothing but your heavy breaths and his little thrusts filling the office's space.
"S-s about these panties..."
sorry, another one because I'm ovulating and I like my men pathetic
I hear you with your Omega Dennis, who’s abusing heat suppressants due to his abusive family and then suddenly going into heat at the hospital with only Alpha Robby (and Jack) to save him.
But I raise you to:
Dennis, who had his first heat at 14. Who almost begs his teacher to not call his parents. To please not tell anybody, but who also didn’t know how to explain to them that he wasn’t allowed to be an omega. That his family will never accept a male omega and how scared he is of their reaction. Dennis, who gets picked up early by his omega mother, who just needed to sniff him once to start crying. There was no scenting, no comfort offered. Just her quiet sobs filling the car as they drove home, where he was made to sit on the hard kitchen stool and wait for his father to return. Once he did there was yelling, screaming and fists until he finally fell unconscious.
When he woke up his heat symptoms were gone. And so was his scent.
Omega Dennis who was left so traumatised by that one incident that his heat just never appears again. As he enters his 4th year of medical school, he’s already convinced that they’ve all been wrong that one time and he’s just a beta. He used to get a panic attack whenever he smelled the pre-heat on an omega classmate (which he shouldn’t be able to as a beta but maybe his nose is just really sensitive), but he worked on that until all that was left was the ringing in his ears and the tightness in his throat. After all, as a doctor he couldn’t run from a third of his patients during their most vulnerable state. Still, the fear stayed with him.
When his scent returned, he first thought one of his patients accidentally scented him. Santos gave him one whiff on their ride home and wouldn’t stop teasing him about his secret admirer but when it wasn’t gone in the morning despite him showering twice….
They stopped on their way to work to get him some scent patches and Dennis had to promise her to consult Dr. McKay.
In the end he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Fear clawing at his insides whenever he just thought about presenting as an omega…so he just didn’t. Thankfully his job gave him many opportunities to not think about personal stuff.
He made it three weeks until he recognised the first signs of his pre-heat.
He almost didn’t make it to work that day.
The ringing in his ears wouldn’t stop. The heat in his body was a constant reminder of what he was and what was about to happen. Every second spend in silence was filled by the reminder of that one night. The screams, the pain, the sound of his mother crying in the car and the disgusted looks his brothers gave him from that day on.
In the end he made it through his shift. He wasn’t sure how he did it but going by the worried glances Dr. Robby had given him all day long he guesses he didn’t do a good job at hiding his emotions.
The older Alpha confronts him that day in the lockers, asking him how he’s doing and if he can help him with anything. His hand lying heavy on Dennis’s shoulder, so close to the scent gland that has been itching ever since that morning and that grew more and more irritated by the hour. The scent patch, that he had to renew almost every hour by now, only made it worse.
And something about Robby’s worried look, the kind eyes, steady hand and warm smell of smoke and hot summer rain made Dennis crack. Tears started streaming down his face and ugly sobs wrecked his body making him a shaky mess in his attendings arms. All the stress and anxiety of the past weeks heightened by his hormones didn’t even leave him the chance to explain what was going on before he had his head buried in Robby’s chest, who immediately engulfed him in his arms.
Just in that moment the door opens and Dr. Abbot walks in. For a second, he’s just standing there, looking at his best friend holding the small crying beta, who they both been crushing on since day one. He has half a mind to leave until he sees Robby’s panicked and helpless look, asking him to stay. Slowly closing and locking the door he walks closer, until Dennis notices him.
Blushing furiously, Dennis tries to hide his face, before he realises, he’s only burying his face deeper into the Alphas chest. He tries to move away but one of Robby’s hands immediately pulls him back in by the back of his head. A new and third hand appears on his back, where Robby’s just had been, rubbing small circles into his tense muscles. Dennis is sure Dr. Abbot was asking questions but he couldn’t get his mind to focus on that voice, far to overwhelmed by being held so carefully, like he’s never been held before.
The hand from the back of his neck gently moves to lift his chin up, until he makes eye contact with the two Alphas. They talk softly to him asking him what’s going on, if there’s something he needs that they can provide and for the first time the Omega in Dennis calms down, inherently pleased by the thought of two Alphas taking good care of him.
And maybe it’s the hug, the warmth, the genuine care in both of their eyes but for the first time in over 13 years, no, for the first time ever, Dennis talks about what happened the day of his presentation. The panic attacks afterwards, his fears and how he tried to avoid the fact that it’s happening again.
He cries some more. At some point the three of them moved so that he was sitting on Jacks lap with his face turned towards Robby, who was gently cradling his face, wiping away the tears as they came. The other Alpha was holding him close, softly scenting his neck for comfort
When all was said and done, they still didn’t leave. Jack, now late for his shift, made no move to push Dennis away. Instead, they both put him back on his feet and accompanied him to get a check-up by an omega specialist in the hospital. Afterwards Jack said his goodbyes but promised to join them after his shift.
In hindsight Dennis couldn’t explain how everything happened, only that he was more than happy about the outcome. His first actual heat was mild, mostly due to the suppressants he got during his check-up. He spent it warm and safe in the first nest he ever built, made out of clothes that smelled like Jack and Robby. There was no yelling, no crying and no pain. Just his two older Alphas who held him and made sure he had everything he needed.
