#alpha!gaz

You know you need to get an Omega to help with Alphas rut. You can barely take a knot, much less go on for days until he's finally satiated. You know what you need to do.

But yet, you cry.

You're jealous. You can't help it.

You have his mark. You have the story of how he picked you out of everyone. You have his pack. Their scents cover yours, easing into your own like each ingredient added to a angel food cake. Like a sheppards pie during the wet, cold winter. Just as a pack is supposed to be.

The thought of another, an outsider, someone who can actually be what Alphas want and need, eats you alive.

Poor Beta. Never good enough. Not even for the pack that dragged you in and claimed you for their own.

And Simon? Simon has no idea that you're freaking out in the bathroom right now, crying and snotting and pinching yourself in hopes that you're dreaming. No, Simon's making his den. Grabbing everyone's clothes, yours included, making sure everything is layered precisely the way he needs. Gruffing as he sniffs your panties, tasting you and him combined and putting it right by his head.

Johnny is laying on the couch, smiling as Simon's scent lavishes the home. Kyle is already chubbed up and can't wait to join, thinking about making the sweet little Beta soak his face before Simon gets ahold of you.

John is the only one who wonders where you are. The only one strong enough to fight against Simon's scent and the silent demand for him to get himself ready for the rutting Alpha.

John finds you eventually. You've cried yourself out and your finger is hovering over an Omegas contact. You know you should call. Should ask. Should orchestrate it all. But, you can't.

Bad Beta. Jealous Beta.

Terrible packmate.

"You doin' okay, luv?" John asks through the door, rapping on it with a heavy knuckle. You wash your face and open the door with a smile, drinking in Simon's heady scent and the way it erupts goosebumps on your skin.

Your Alpha. Your Pack. Nobody else.

"Yes! Yes, of course. Just waiting." You try to shut the door, but John's foot gets in the way. His eyebrow is raised and you can tell he doesn't believe you.

"He's about ready now. We should get ready too." Your lip wobbles and you hate it. You aren't ready. You just aren't ready.

John forces the door open and cuddles you quickly, seeing your walls break and the tears in your eyes drip down your cheeks. You poor thing. You must be so scared.

"Shh, Beta. It's o'right. He won't hurt you. Won't mate you if you don't wan'. Just tell him, okay? He'll know. He understands. He'll just wan' to cuddle you, sniff you, maybe kiss. The guys and I 'ave it handled." It takes a minute before you're pulling your head back, eyebrows twisted up in confusion.

"Dont...shouldn't I get an Omega for Simon? To help his rut?"

John barks out a laugh, holding you tighter before steering you out to the living room.

Kyle sees you first, cooing at you. Your face heats and you try to look away.

You still aren't used to Kyle shirtless. The ink on his skin—'prior lives', he's told you once before kissing you like you've hung the moon and stars—and the muscles he has. He's bulked up recently, Alphas' way of protecting their injured packmate, and the muscle on him is absolutely deadly.

He's been driving you more crazy than you want to admit.

You've been thinking about taking his knot too. How he would feel. How Simon would react. Would he be jealous? Or would you encourage you both to continue, bond in the way only a true pack can?

"First time with a rutting Alpha, lovely?" His hands grab your cheeks and gives you the softest kiss on your nose.

You burn.

"Our Simon isn't bad, lass. He'll take good care of you. Of all of us." Johnny confirms from the couch, his smile bright and eyes deadly.

"Pup here thinks Simon wants an Omega." John says, pushing you into Kyle's arms as he takes his own shirt off and starts unbuckling his pants. Both Alphas laugh.

"Oh, love, no, no, no, no, no. He'd freak out. It'd be horrible. He's not like that. We're not like that, yeah?" Kyle tries to explain, but you still don't understand.

You let him undress you anyways.

"But all rutting Alphas need an Omega. I know that." You're so sweet, Beta. Thinking you know what Alphas want, especially this special case of Alphas you have in your palm. Kyle kisses your skin as more of it is exposed. Your chest. Your breasts. Each wrist. Your scent glands.

Kyle can't help it. He pulls your pants down and slides his fingers over your flesh. He feels your goosebumps. He feels your slick starting to build.

Even a Beta is affected by rutting Alphas. Especially their own.

You gasp, but you let him. You can't focus on Johnny pulling himself out and his heavy breathing as he watches his packmates play.

John knows its time. But he still can't help himself but watch as Kyle gets you all the way naked.

You're so beautiful, Beta. Miserable, upset, longing, and still trying to help your Alpha out.

It's why you were chosen, sweet thing. Look at everything you do. How could they want anyone else?

"Mm, I know. Let's go ask Simon. Let's see what he wants, okay?" Kyle licks your cheek, tasting the salt from your tears, the sweat on your skin and feels himself instantly hard for you.

One rutting Alpha....two rutting Alphas....

"But-but-" You try to stammer out but the four of you are making your way into Simon's den.

You know if you don't make the call now, you'll never make it. Even if he begs. Even if he pleads.

You can't. It's wrong. Jealous Beta.

He's growling. It's low. It's deep. Its vibrating your chest and clit and you feel yourself being pulled in.

The door opens.

Everyone moans, yourself included.

He smells of rich earth. Of salvation. Temptation and honeysuckle.

You're salivating. You're slicking. The pack around you has heavy knots already.

You have to make that call.

"Beta thinks you want an Omega, Alpha." Kyle calls out, pushing you forward as an offering. A gift.

A sound is ripped from his chest. Vicious. Monstrous.

Intoxicating.

"Here, Beta. Now." He demands and you crawl. Your neck is exposed. Thighs are wet. Tears are coming back. You don't know why (why else would they be?).

"Wan' you, Beta. Wan' them too. Wan' you and them. Yeah?" Hard for him to speak, but you would for you.

Anything for you, Beta. You'll find out.

You nodded, eyes glazing over as his scent fully encapsulates you and the rest of the pack too.

Door is shut as the others enter. Chuffs fill your chest. Soft growls are sung back. Temperature is rising and Simon shows you how he doesn't need an Omega. Doesn't want one either.

He's got three willing holes to accept his seed and knot. Four that now includes you.

And maybe, if you and Kyle wanted to try something....well...

it's frowned upon. impossible really for that to even be a thing, but you’re desperate. you have nowhere else to go and he was the only one tolerable enough to live under the same roof.

and things are fine for the most part. great, even. less alphas bother you at work when you have Kyle’s scent lingering on you. you can afford rent and get yourself a treat every once in a while because Kyle offered to pay more than half of the rent, as well as sharing his groceries and insisting that you eat so you can stay healthy and strong.

until things start to go sideways.

some of your clothes start to go missing. a t-shirt here, a bra there. a sock, a scarf, your bandanas, a pair of underwear. some of them turn back up and some don’t but it’s fine. laundry gets mixed up all the time, right?

worse are the days when your alarm doesn’t go off to remind you to take your suppressants. and that's when you’re dangling dangerously close to your heat. at the worst possible moment too, when the rain pours down outside, winds howling, lightning crackling across the sky.

mere hours away and with an alpha in the vicinity, an alpha who smells so good and is already doing more than his fair share in taking care of you, you can already feel the tingling in your belly. a slow kindling that tortures you from inside out.

you practically turn the house inside out looking for that bottle of pills. it was brand new even, how could it go missing? where did you go wrong?

Kyle finds the medicine cabinet damn near in shambles, the couch cushions haphazardly thrown all over the living room, canned foods and his bottled iced tea on the kitchen counter, the fridge wide open.

and there you were, standing in the middle of the chaos in his cable knit sweater and a pair of shorts. disheveled hair sticking out all over. wild eyes looking all over the mess with the nail of your thumb trapped between your teeth.

he already knows what's going on but he feigns a carefully constructed mix of concern and mild curiosity as he slowly approaches you. “what are you looking for, love?”

"my suppressants.” you whimpered, eyes glistening with tears. “i can’t find my suppressants, Kyle. what am i gonna do?!”

“that’s okay.” he says, hands placed on your shoulders. he knows it does more to frazzle you than calm you down. “we can just go and get some more.”

“no, the pharmacy burned down last week, remember?” in your panic, you don’t notice the way his mouth twitches at the mention of it.

yet you free yourself from his grasp, moving to the other side of the room, panting heavily now. he doesn’t like that. doesn’t want you pushing him away when you’re so vulnerable, when you're so close to the breaking point, when you're so close to falling straight into his jaws.

you’re buzzing with nerves. half way descending to madness, instinct slowly chipping away at any and all rational thought. you’re becoming more and more volatile, just like the storm raging outside.

“wait!” you stop all of a sudden, turning to face him with bright eyes. “there’s another one right across town–”

“no.” he shuts you down. stomping all over the last flicker of hope you had of salvaging your dignity and your sanity. “you’re not going out in this weather. it’s too dangerous.”

he feels bad when you visibly deflate, your pheromones souring for a moment. he walks over to you, taking your trembling hands in his and gently squeezing them. the slight change in your scent indicates that his efforts are working and it takes everything in him to not smile.

“besides, look at you. you’re shaking, love. you can’t drive like this.” he crones, allowing his scent to engulf you as he cups the sides of your neck. fingers grazing your nape as he invades your space, backing you into the corner.

you’re breaking. rapidly. a fast progression down as your nails scrape to keep you on the side of the cliff. 

“but– but–” words are slipping from your head faster than you can cling to them. all you can smell is him. all you can taste is him. you’re fighting a losing game. “my heat–”

“is coming soon, yes, i’m aware.” he leans in close, nudging your nose against his with a soft whisper, “why don’t you let me take care of you?” you whine, trying to turn away. he follows, mouth grazing your jaw. “it’s a better alternative, don’t you think?”

you realize too late that he’s got you trapped. there’s no running from him, no escaping him if you tried. you’re on the cusp of your heat, barely clinging on to the last remnants of the suppressants you took days ago. barely clinging on to the notion of honouring your friendship. trying to stay loyal to your unspoken code.

but Kyle throws all that out the window when he descends upon you. lips suckling on your swollen gland, breathing in your scent in heaves. pawing at you, pulling apart your clothes until his hands feel the warmth of your scorching skin. he can’t get enough of you until he feels all of you.

one second you were in the living room corner, the excruciating cramps cutting the last of your lucidity while your eyes roll back, losing yourself to him. and the next thing you know, you’re in your room, blinking back to reality to see Kyle adding his sweater and the rest of his clothes to your nest.

“i... i... we can’t– we shouldn’t–” you stumble over your words while he peels off your pants, along with your panties, now soaked with slick. 

“why not?” he tilts his head with a smile. your legs are being spread open for him, your breath hitching sharply as his fingers slide through your folds. “hmm?”

“i– we’re–” he doesn’t wait for you to come up with an excuse as he’s watching you with a wicked glint in his eye.

“we’re what?”

weakly pushing at his bare shoulders does nothing to put some distance between you and him. his head dips to your cunt just as you muster the strength to string together one syllable–

“friends!”

your high pitched moan echoes through the room. slick pouring out of you as he devours your soaked pussy while he plucks your hardened nipples. he gropes your breasts, sliding his hands further down to hold your thighs apart when they attempt to close around his head.

your heat kicks in like molten lava spreading through all your veins. you lose all sense of time and the only space you’re conscious of is the one Kyle occupies between your legs until he lifts his head from there.

“yes. and?” he taunts, licking his lips. “don’t friends take care of each other?”

he’s not wrong.

you couldn’t find it in you to disagree even if he was. your body goes against everything screaming at you that this was wrong. the voice of reason slowly fades into nothing but dull, incoherent blurs in the background while instinct takes over.

you’re helpless when he notches the tip of his cock at the cut of you, sliding in with ease as he links his fingers with yours and pins your hands above your head. your legs mindlessly lock around him as the first few gentle thrusts work your cunt open.

it’s mortifying how little resistance you put up, how it all shrivels up and dies in your throat when he fills you up and pins his hips against yours with a deep, satisfied groan. the whole world focuses on him and his focus on you like nothing else matters as his thick cock glides inside your fluttering cunt.

Kyle smiles all too brightly when you murmur incoherent words into the crook of his neck. something between sharp gasps of his name and “alpha” while he’s steadily rocking his hips. the first orgasm unfurls and tears through you sooner than you both expect but the sweet burst of your scent spurs him on.

when he turns you over on your stomach and makes you present for him, you know he’s going to knot you and keep you full of him until it takes.

and you don’t even know if you want to stop him anymore.

“you’re mine now, love.” he whispers hoarsely into your ear. “you’re not getting away from me this time.”

there’s no disputing the inevitable truth coming to fruition, now is there?

i'm trying to clear out my drafts by finishing stuff that i completely abandoned, tbh and i'm finding some really interesting things in there🤭

mdni + support banners by @/cafekitsune

no ai interaction banner by @/vase-of-lilies

In this cruel world made up of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, there is bound to be danger lurking in every dark alley, every shady nightclub. Over the course of three days, you had seen and felt things you thought would never end. You were used and passed along like a joint. One particular Alpha paid a good fortune for you, and you found yourself dressed in skimpy clothes and drugged with aphrodisiacs. Your pheromones leaked like a pipe. There’s no hope. Why even bother? you thought angstily as you were transported to a new location.

You’d heard of the tragic trafficking of Omegas, but you didn’t expect to experience it firsthand. Omegas have to know every tactic to defend themselves. Your ears drooped in disgust and a sort of disbelief as your body began to enter some sort of stupor; the drugs meant to make you extremely docile and languid were starting to kick in. The sudden sensation of a sharp turn and the screech of wheels snapped you out from your haze. Instead of hearing the usual excited chatter, you heard gunshots. You were too lethargic to even move, so you passed out in your seat. When you awoke, four men surrounded you; three Alphas and one Beta.

You found yourself on a small cot. Three Alphas and one Beta were sniffing your pheromones to deduce your mental, physical, and emotional state. “Aye, Omega’s ‘woken up,” the Beta with the warhawk mumbled. The bearded Alpha hummed. “Hmm. Let’s start with introductions. What’s your name, Omega?” Another Alpha, clad in a skull mask, trilled, seemingly pleased at your arousal (arousal as in the waking up sense!!). “You’re safe, pet. We don’t bite, at least, not unless you want us to.” He jibed with a British lilt once he sensed your fear. His dark-skinned pack mate snorted, rolling his eyes. You could smell he was an Alpha, too.

All of their ears were perked high in expectation, their eyes watching your every move, sniffing every pheromone released into the already stuffy air. “Y/N,” your response made them nod in acknowledgment. “Mm, ‘Kay. We already knew that. Jus’ wanted to see if we got the right person.” The bearded Alpha sighed before continuing. “Well, I’m Price. This ‘ere is Ghost, Gaz on my right, and Soap’s the one in front of ya.” Soap promptly bent down and twinkled at you, his tail wagging. You didn’t even have to ask for their ranks, you could smell it in the bodily fragrances they released— that applied for them too. You could tell that Price, Ghost and Gaz were all Alphas, while Soap was a Beta.

You wondered how they weren't dying to breed you, your pheromones were uncapped and flowing out into the air freely. They must be taking some kick ass suppressors, you surmised. You were, for the lack of better words, glad they weren’t groping your body ravenously. Yet, despite their composed demeanors, glints of wolfish desires were expressed through their eyes. Their tails were rigid and raised.

“We saved you from that trafficking ring— shouldn’t you be more grateful?” Ghost earned himself an elbow pinch from Price. Ghost lowered his ears and grumbled as Gaz snickered. “Omega’s pumped full of drugs. Damnit, they’re barely alive,” Price grunted, his brows knitted— not in regards to Ghost— but at your deplorable condition. “Don’t expect much yet.”

“Soap, call in exfil, we need to go back to base. We need to get this Omega treated.” At Price’s order, Soap’s ears flicked and he soon got to work. “Don’t worry, Omega,” Price murmured, his thick fingers tracing circles on your sunken-in cheeks. He practically melted at the sigh you soughed. “You’re safe, pet.”

One half of you loved his touch, the Omega side that constantly craved the touch and comfort of an Alpha; the other half wanted to flinch back and snarl at it. You’d been touched, and not in a nice way— you didn’t want to bear that again. Yet because Price’s touch was refreshingly compassionate, the former side won.

At the hospital

When you arrived at the base, you were stirred awake by a splitting headache, an after effect of the narcotics. Your vision was bleary but you could tell that you were in an infirmary— and that you were not alone, either.

Ghost and Soap were seated on the chairs adjacent to your little mattress. Their tails were curled curled together as they waited for your awakening. When you finally announced it by clearing your throat, both of their ears shot up in attention and whipped their heads around to face you.

Soap was the first one to detach from the tail-curling and walk towards you, a gentle concern painted onto his face. “Ye feelin’ any better, Omega?” He chuckled at your reply, a tired no. His hands neared to replace the tape covering your scent glands, but then he stopped, seemingly remembering his manners. “Mind if I change ‘em? Not gonna try anything slick,” Soap asked, his icy blue eyes warming themselves for you.

“No,” you croaked. Slowly, he started to strip the tape off, clean your gland, and patch a new piece of tape on. Obviously, your scent had been carried in the air, exciting both Soap and Ghost. You knew Soap had a better nose than the rest. Soap’s pupils had dilated, making you a bit uneasy, “not gonna try anythin’,” he assured you again, smelling your distrust.

“Where’s Price and Gaz?” You questioned, hoping you remembered the name of the two Alphas right. “They’re in Mexico. With a friend; they should be back soon.” Ghost replied, rising to his feet to join Soap. They both assessed you with such focused attention— especially Ghost— making you feel like a piece of meat again. Your ears pinned themselves against your head.

Ghost’s inhaled deeply through his mouth, his breath trembling. He leaned closer towards you, his head tilting to try and whiff up any of your heady pheromones that still lingered in the air from the tape-replacing. Ghost's ears were angled towards you.

Ghost realized what he was doing and promptly gave you your space, as if to prove his salaciousness was kept under control. Or maybe he did it as an apology. "Sorry, just, you smell nice."

Soap hummed in what could be expressed as skepticism.

"Well, I think we should leave 'em to their own devices." Soap said, giving your hand a quick squeeze. He ordered for a glass of water to be delivered to your room before he left with his packmate.

You were left alone with your thoughts. You realized how much of a windfall this was. Out of hundreds of millions, you were saved. You had quite possibly the aid of God by your side. What an occurrence.