Prompt: “Don’t touch me.” Day 13 of the Mating March writing challenge hosted by @monthlywritingchallenges
Word Count: 275
Summary: You rescue Dean from a vampire.
Warnings: Show level violence. Dean is the damsel in distress. Handsy female vampire. Hurt & Comfort.
“Don’t touch me,” Dean seethed.
His green eyes glittered in rage, his head tilted back in the female vampire’s grasp, exposing his neck to the tip of her nose. After inhaling deeply, she smirked on an exhale. Clearly relishing Dean’s disgust.
“What’s the matter, Winchester?” She licked up his neck to the base of his ear and whispered hotly there, “I’ll be gentle, baby, don’t you worry.”
Dean’s face contorted; his body rigid in the vamp’s grasp.
“Hey,” you spoke just loud enough to get her attention.
The moment she whirled to face you, your machete was already slicing through the meat of her neck.
“Hands off,” you growled, your voice steel as you watched her head roll and her body slump to the floor. Dean visibly relaxed upon seeing you.
“Cut that kind of close, didn’t you?”
Your eyes gentled when they landed on him. Immediately, you worked on setting him free from his binds.
“What happened?”
“She got the jump on me.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, just – in dire need of a hot shower.”
Your hands pat across his chest, turned his chin from side to side to confirm that Dean was in fact alright.
“That was unbelievably hot by the way,” Dean added to get your attention off him.
You stared dryly into his face.
“She must have banged your head pretty good. You probably have a concussion.”
He scoffed and allowed you to wrap one of his arms around your shoulders to then encircle your own around his waist.
“Thank you,” he quietly said, after taking a few steps.
You tightened your hold around his waist and looked at him.
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Mating March 1 & 7. Instinct & Scent- Alice x Cheshire Cat
"What are you doing?"
"Hmm?"
Alice reached up and petted the Cheshire Cat between his ears, making sure to give an extra scratch by his ear, like she would Dinah. She would have thought that whatever creature he was- because he certainly wasn't a normal cat, nothing in this world was normal- wouldn't accept pets. She had been delighted to discover that she was wrong.
"The rubbing," she said, glancing at where her sleeve had rolled up. The motions of his cheek rubbing had moved it up. "You do that constantly. What are you doing?" Dinah did it sometimes as well.
"Ah, just… instinct, little mouse."
"Instinct?"
"A scent marking," His tail wrapped around hers. "Just a little claim. If that bothers you…" His chin rested on her shoulder, too far for any normal cat to have stretched.
He wasn't normal.
"Ah?"
"I have other instincts."
"Oh? Like what-" She turned her face to meet eyes with a wide, unnerving grin, canines gleaming. "Oh." Her face flushed with heat, and she quickly turned back to her book. "The rubbing is alright."
Shane knew the night was already doomed, like cursed from the second Rose Landry came clicking toward their table in those murder‑weapon heels that could puncture a tire or possibly a man’s fragile ego, whichever was closer.
“Hello, Shane,” she said, voice all honey and claws, leaning in to brush her lips against his cheek like it was a staged act, and maybe it was.
Ilya’s jaw made a sound, an actual click, so sharp the poor salt shaker trembled like it feared for its small glass life.
Shane hissed under his breath, “Please, just… behave, okay?”
“I am behaving,” Ilya muttered, except he clearly wasn’t. “This is me behaving.”
That was a lie so big it should’ve had its own billboard. This was Ilya in full alpha‑possessive‑display ‑display mode, chest puffed, shoulders squared, nostrils flaring dramatically, glaring at Rose like she’d personally stolen Siberia and renamed it after herself.
Rose slid into her seat with a smirk that could start wars or at least ruin dinners. “Relax, Ilya. I’m not here to steal your omega.”
“You already dated him,” Ilya snapped, voice tight. “So forgive me if I am… cautious.”
Shane groaned. “Oh my god.”
The waiter arrived with menus like a man walking into crossfire, poor soul.
Rose opened hers. Ilya opened his. Their eyes met, locked, really, like two wolves spotting the same deer and silently arguing over who gets the first bite.
“I’ll take the ribeye,” Rose said, crisp and smug.
Ilya slammed his menu shut. “I will also have ribeye.”
Rose’s eyebrow went up. “Copying me?”
“I do not copy,” Ilya said, deeply offended. “I improve.”
Shane rubbed at his temples. “You two know steak isn’t a competition.”
Both alphas turned to him, identical looks of betrayal on their faces.
“It is always competition,” they said together, perfectly synchronized, which somehow made it worse.
Shane briefly considered escaping through the bathroom window.
Rose leaned back, smirking. “Shane always liked his steak medium‑rare.”
Ilya’s head whipped around. “He likes medium now. Because I cook it better.”
Rose laughed, low and dangerous. “Oh sweetheart, Shane used to say my cooking was...”
“Dry,” Ilya interrupted. “He told me. Very dry. Like desert.”
Shane choked. “Ilya, I never said...”
“Shh, zaychik. Is okay. I know truth.”
Rose gasped. “My cooking is exquisite.”
“Exquisitely dry,” Ilya muttered.
Shane slid lower in his seat, wishing for spontaneous invisibility or maybe a sinkhole.
The waiter brought bread.
Rose reached for it.
Ilya reached for it.
Their hands touched. They recoiled like they’d been electrocuted.
“You’re tense,” Rose said, narrowing her eyes.
“I am not tense,” Ilya lied, every muscle bulging like he was trying to crush the table into dust.
“You’re jealous.”
“I am not jealous,” Ilya barked, jealous enough to ignite the tablecloth.
Shane whispered, “You’re absolutely jealous.”
“I am jealous of no one,” Ilya insisted. “Except maybe… tiny bit… of her stupid perfect hair.”
Rose preened. “Thank you.”
“That was insult,” Ilya snapped.
Shane put his face in his hands.
***
Both alphas took one bite of their steaks. Both froze. Both looked at each other like they’d just witnessed a crime.
“This is terrible,” Rose declared.
“Is worst steak I ever eat,” Ilya agreed.
They stared at each other. A spark of understanding passed between them, the kind that should terrify an omega.
“Are you two… bonding?” Shane asked, voice weak.
“No,” they said instantly.
But then—
“You lift?” Rose asked.
Ilya nodded. “Da. You?”
“Deadlift?” Rose narrowed her eyes.
“Four hundred,” Ilya said, puffing his chest.
“Same,” Rose said, eyes lighting up.
Neither could and everyone knew it.
Shane stared like they’d grown matching horns. He could feel the disaster forming.
And then it happened.
“You know,” Rose said, smirking, “Shane once tried to impress me by cooking dinner.”
Shane’s fork froze mid‑air. “Rose—”
“Oh, this I must hear,” Ilya said, leaning in like a gossiping aunt.
“He set the oven mitt on fire,” Rose said, grinning.
Ilya gasped. “Shanechka! You told me you ‘slightly singed’ it.”
“It was a controlled burn,” Shane muttered.
“It was a five‑alarm disaster,” Rose laughed.
Ilya slapped the table. “This is adorable. Continue.”
“Please don’t continue,” Shane groaned.
Rose, of course, continued.
“Oh! And karaoke night!” she said, snapping her fingers.
Shane’s head hit the table. “No. No. Absolutely not.”
“Karaoke? Shane sings?” Ilya’s eyes sparkled.
“He sang that song,you know, the one about surviving,” Rose said, laughing.
Ilya gasped. “Shanechka! You told me you ‘participated.’”
“He did choreography,” Rose added, nearly cackling.
“Choreography?!” Ilya clutched his chest.
Shane mumbled into the tablecloth, “I hate both of you.”
Rose patted his back. “You were adorable.”
“Da. Very adorable. I would pay money to see this,” Ilya said.
Shane groaned louder.
“Your turn, Ilya,” Rose said, satisfied. “Embarrassing Shane stories?”
“He once tried to fix sink. Flooded entire kitchen,” Ilya said without hesitation.
Rose burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s beautiful.”
“Ilya!” Shane said, betrayed.
“Is true. You are disaster with tools,” Ilya said, shrugging.
Rose raised her glass. “To Shane. The sweetest omega.”
“I’m never taking either of you out in public again,” Shane muttered.
Rose and Ilya exchanged a look,the look of two alphas who had just become best friends through mutual teasing rights.
“Too late,” Rose said.
“Bond is formed,” Ilya added solemnly.
They were still laughing over the karaoke story when Shane finally snapped.
“Okay, ENOUGH,” he said, cheeks blazing. “Can we please stop talking about me like I’m some kind of— of— household pet who sets things on fire?!”
Both alphas turned toward him slowly. Very slowly.
Shane immediately regretted every life choice that led him here.
“Shane. Sweetheart. Don’t take that tone,” Rose said, folding her arms.
“Da. Shanechka, you are being snippy,” Ilya added, voice dropping into that deep, bossy rumble.
“I’m not snippy,” Shane said, snippy.
“You’re pouting,” Rose said.
“I AM NOT!!!”
“You are pouting. Lips doing the thing,” Ilya said, leaning forward.
Shane slapped a hand over his mouth.
Rose sighed like a disappointed teacher. “See? This is why he needs structure.”
“Routine. Consistency. Snacks every two hours,” Ilya said, nodding like a wise man.
“Snacks?!” Shane sputtered.
“And naps,” Rose added. “He gets cranky without naps.”
“Exactly,” Ilya said, pointing at her. “I tell him this all the time.”
“I am RIGHT HERE,” Shane said, horrified.
They ignored him.
“And he needs praise. Lots of praise. He thrives on it,” Rose continued.
“Da. Positive reinforcement. Like puppy,” Ilya said.
“Ilya!” Shane made a strangled noise.
“Is compliment, zaychik,” Ilya said, patting his hand.
“And he needs someone to stop him from touching appliances,” Rose added.
“Especially oven,” Ilya agreed solemnly.
“You are assholes,” Shane said, burying his face in his hands.
They clinked their glasses again over his head.
Later, in the car, Shane sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, radiating wounded dignity.
Ilya was humming.
Too happily.
“What are you smiling about?” Shane asked, narrowing his eyes.
Ilya’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, grin widening.
“Who is that,” Shane said flatly.
Ilya turned the screen toward him.
Rose: Forgot to tell you: Shane once tried to fix my bookshelf and it collapsed on him. Ask him about it.
Shane made a noise. “NO. NO. SHE DID NOT—”
Ilya was already typing back. “Send more.”
“ILYAAAAA!” Shane lunged for the phone, but Ilya held it above his head like a cruel older brother.
“No. You lost phone privileges when you got snippy.”
The phone buzzed again.
Rose: Oh! And the time he got stuck in a hoodie at the mall.
Ilya burst out laughing. “Shanechka! You got stuck in clothing?!”
“It was a SMALL HOODIE, and I am a large," Shane said, covering his face.
“I love this woman,” Ilya said, wiping tears from his eyes.
“I’m never speaking to either of you again,” Shane muttered.
“Da, da. You say this every time,” Ilya said, kissing his cheek.
When they got home, Shane spun dramatically. “NEW RULE. You two are NOT allowed to talk. Ever. Again.”
“What? Why?” Ilya just stared at him.
“Because you become a nightmare duo! A menace! A... a...SHANE‑EMBARRASSMENT MACHINE!”
Ilya opened his mouth. Shane held up a finger. “No. No defending yourself. No loopholes. No secret texting. No bonding. No comparing deadlifts. No sharing stories about me. You two are DONE.”
Ilya nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Shane blinked.
“Da. I respect your wishes,” Ilya said.
Shane softened. “Thank you.”
Then Ilya’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it. “I must go to bathroom,” he said.
Every time he plucked some out, a bunch more replaced them. He tried his best, he did, but they clung, like weeds clinging to a bush's roots and choking them out. Nowadays, it felt like even his shadow clones had cobwebs clinging to them.
It was a silent claim, one without teeth.
She had him wrapped in her.
Macaque had escaped one lady only to fall into the queen's hands.
Wrote something for @monthlywritingchallenges Mating March: Heat Rising
Also on Ao3 | wc: 3,443
“Where is it? Where is it?” Dennis was muttering to himself as he shut the door to the clothes dryer.
“What are you looking for?” Trinity asked from where she was making herself a coffee in the kitchen.
After the disaster Pitt Fest had brought to the hospital, Trinity had brought Dennis to her place to move into the spare bedroom that used to belong to her roommate who had sprung the fact that she was moving out on her last month. Still, even though Dennis wasn’t exactly paying rent, (though he had agreed to take on the majority of chores in exchange for the free room) the man made a surprisingly good roommate. Not that Trinity was all that picky really.
Still though, in the three weeks they had been living together, Trinity had come to realize that Dennis was always running around looking for something right before they had to leave for work. One time it was a shoe, another his water bottle, a couple of times it was his wallet.
“You haven’t seen my green T-shirt, have you?” he asked.
And okay, she hadn’t expected that.
“Your green T-shirt?” she asked.
Dennis let out a long breath, suddenly looking very stressed. “Yeah, I need it.”
Trinity’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They were just about to go to work, where they would put on hospital issued scrubs and could wear whatever undershirt they wanted. “Why do you need that specific one?” she asked.
Dennis ran his hands through his hair, messing up the neatness it had been in when he came out of his room that morning. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just… really want it today.”
Trinity didn't exactly know how to respond to hearing that admission. “Um… okay… when did you last wear it?” she asked.
“The other day,” Dennis said. “And I washed it right after that too,” he waved to the basket of laundry he had just pulled out of the dryer. “But it’s not in there!”
A sudden thought struck Trinity then. “You were folding another basket last night weren’t you? Where’d that go?”
Dennis widened his eyes as he ran back to his room, rummaging around for a second before yelling triumphantly, “I got it!"
Despite spending an extra five minutes looking for Dennis’s T-shirt, they still managed to get into the hospital early enough to take their time getting changed into scrubs and dropping their stuff in their lockers.
Walking out to the main floor, they were both shocked to see both Abbot and Robby standing in the center, with Abbot looking like he had just gotten there instead of the usual about to leave with the night shift.
“We have both Robby and Abbot working today?” Dennis asked as they walked out of the locker room to the ER bay.
Trinity shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, it happens sometimes, especially on weekends.” and today was a Saturday.
Abbot was the one to give their start of shift pep talk that morning, and even though Dennis likely didn’t notice it, Robby had been looking right at him the entire time.
And that was weird, Trinity thought to herself. Weird, but it wasn’t like she could do anything about it right now. She’d just keep it a note on her mind, for now.
🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹
“Is there something up with you and that omega?” Jack walked up to Robby and asked as soon as he told everyone to get to work.
Robby stirred himself out of the trance he had fallen into watching Whitaker walk around the floor at the sound of Jack’s voice directly in his ear.
“What?” he asked, looking at Jack.
Jack leveled him with a look. “You haven’t taken your eyes off of him since the moment he walked out of that locker room. What’s up?”
“He’s not an omega?” Robby said, confused at what Jack was talking about. He made a point to read all of the paperwork for the people working in the pitt. He knew what everyone’s designations were, especially the omegas because it was always important to make sure they weren’t scheduled to work on their heats. He had seen the chaos that happened when an omega in heat came in as a patient more times than he could count. He was not going to have someone under him come in if he could help that.
And besides, he knew Whitaker was not on his list of omegas.
“You sure about that?” Jack asked, taking a half step back and crossing his arms. “I can smell the sweetness oozing off of him. He’s an omega, and if I had to guess, will probably go into heat before this shift is over.”
No, that wasn’t right. Robby would know if Whitaker was an omega, he was sure of it.
“Nevermind that then, why are you looking at him like that?” Jack asked again.
Robby looked back to Jack, at some point his attention had drifted back to Whitaker without him even realizing it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Robby said as he turned around to go find a patient to check on.
Jack was left shaking his head, but intending on keeping track of both men for the rest of the day.
🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹
“You never told me that Dennis was an omega,” Mel said about half an hour after their shift began.
“What?” Trinity asked. Mel had a habit of sort of sneaking up on her and asking random questions. Usually Trinity could tell where the questions were coming from however. Dennis and omega? She had no idea where this was coming from.
“Dennis, he’s an omega, right?” Mel said.
Trinity cocked her head to the side. “No he’s not. He’s a beta,” she said. It was something they had talked about the morning after Dennis had moved in. They were both betas.
“Are you sure?” Mel asked. “Because that scent coming from him today? He smells like he’s only a couple days from going into heat.”
Trinity wanted to laugh. Mel had to be making a joke right?”
“He’s not an omega,” Trinity said again. “He’s a beta, trust me.”
Mel didn’t look convinced, but she dropped it. “Right,” she said as she nodded.
As Mel walked away to see the patient just brought into Bay 12, Trinity had to ask herself just what that was about.
Sure, Mel had an exceptionally good nose and was able to tell the designation of someone from across a packed and chaotic ER, but surely, if Dennis was an omega, he would have told Trinity? They were roommates for God’s sake, it wasn’t exactly a secret you could keep.
She kept an eye on Dennis for the rest of the day, or tried to anyway. From what she could see of the ten seconds glimpses she caught of the man from fifty yards away all morning, the man looked stressed, which granted, wasn’t all that unusual for him.
But more than that, he looked overworked, and that was saying a lot for people working in the pitt. His face looked flushed, cheeks having a pinkish red tint to them. She was pretty sure that if she actually got close to him, she’d see sweat beading on the sides of his forehead and his hair all tussled.
But that didn’t mean he was an omega. It was more likely he caught some illness and was starting a fever, they worked among a lot of sick people, after all. It wasn’t good by any means, but as she was pulled right into another trauma case, she was sure someone else would tell Huckleberry to go take a break soon.
🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹
Robby let out a long sigh as he walked out of Trauma 2, just knowing that that woman was going to likely have her leg amputated.
“Robby,” he heard Dana call his name, quietly, not trying to catch everyone’s attention.
He walked over to her. “What’s up?” he asked, just loud enough for only her to hear over the bustle that had taken over the ER in the last thirty minutes.
“It’s Whitaker,” she said, pointing with a pen at the young med student at the water station. “Why’s he working when he’s about to go into heat?” Dana asked.
And what was up with everyone saying Whitaker was an omega?
“What are you talking about?” he asked Dana. “I’ve read over his employee file more times than I can count, he’s a beta.”
Dana raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” she asked.
Robby huffed a breath, looking to the right and his eyes instantly finding Whitaker working with McKay on a patient in Bay 7. From all appearances, it looked like a kid with a slightly elevated fever, they shouldn’t need an attending, but that never stopped him from checking on people before.
Robby didn’t even need to get within fifteen feet of Whitaker to tell what everyone had been talking about. He was oozing with the sweet scent that could only be an omega going into heat. He had no idea how he had missed it until now, but Jack and Dana were right, by the end of their shift here today he would be well into the middle of his heat.
🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹
Around 11 a.m. Trinity still hadn’t gotten a moment to talk to Dennis, when Robby called her over to him. “Santos, a moment?” he asked, motioning with his shoulder to the locker hallway.
She followed after him, mildly curious what he wanted to talk to her about all out of the way like this. It happened once or twice a shift that he stopped to talk to her about something, but that usually happened just out of earshot of any patients, not everyone.
“What is it, boss?” she asked.
Robby let out a breath, rubbing his hands down his cheeks. “From word going around, Whitaker lives with you now, right?” he asked.
“Um… yeah,” Trinity said, curiosity turning to sudden confusion. Out of everything, Robby wanted to talk to her about Huckleberry?
“So then answer me honestly,” Robby began. “What is his secondary gender?”
Trinity furrowed her eyebrows, even more confused. This was the second person asking her today. Just what was Huckleberry doing to get all of this attention?
“He’s a beta,” she said, her voice showing nothing but honesty.
“Are you sure?” Robby asked.
“Yes?” she said. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Robby blew out a breath and he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Okay… okay,” he said as he turned around and walked back to the ER, leaving Trinity standing there, confused.
Just what was going on with Dennis?
Walking down the hallway back into the main ER, Trinity saw that Robby had been pulled into a conversation with someone while she quickly went to find Dennis. Luckily, in less than a minute she had found him at the water fountain. And she had to stop as she was running up to him.
She might be an omega, her nose for picking up heat scents wasn’t nearly as strong as an alpha’s or an omega’s. But standing here, less than ten feet from Dennis, this scent was unmistakable.
Unless someone had doused him in omega hormones, Dennis was an omega, an omega who was only about an hour away from the peak of his heat.
“Dennis,” she called out his name as she stepped closer to him, standing in between him and the rest of the ER.
He turned away from the water fountain to look up at her, and Trinity’s first thought was that he looked wrecked. The slight flush he had on his cheeks earlier was now full blown reddened skin, as if he had just run a half marathon. There was sweat beading all along his hairline. He was breathing slightly heavily, and his eyelids looked heavy.
“Trin?” he asked, his voice sounding tired, exhausted. “Something wrong?”
“I should be asking you that,” she said. She then lightly took hold of one of his arms. “Follow me,” she said as she pulled him after her to an empty bed they had nearby. She then motioned for him to sit on the bed as she pulled the curtains closed around them.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“You know how you told me you were a beta when you first moved in with me?” she asked. Dennis gave her a confused nod. “Are you sure about that?”
“Sure about… what are you talking about?” he asked. “I’m a beta, pretty sure I’d know by now if I was an alpha or omega.”
Yeah, she knew what he meant there, people usually presented in their teens. There were always exceptions however. And it looked like she was looking at one.
“You know that it’s possible though to-”
Trinity was cut off by Dennis making a pained sound as he curled into a fetal position on the bed, wrapping his arms around his stomach.
“Huckleberry?” she asked, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
“Fuck,” Dennis gasped out. “This hurts.”
“Yeah… okay, okay…” she said, speaking to herself as she tried to think through what to do next.
Next? What was she even supposed to do about any of this?!
She had helped a roommate through a heat in undergrad once, although that had been the girl’s twentieth, not her first.
“Trin-” Dennis gasped out. “It hurts!”
Oh, what the hell was she supposed to do?
She needed… she needed… she needed to get him out of here. Hell, she needed an omega here! They would know what to do, or at least… certainly have a better idea on what to do than she did.
Carefully, she popped her head out from behind the curtain, doing a quick sweep of the area with her eyes, looking for… looking for… There! On the far side of the ER, typing away at a computer was Mel.
Mel was an omega, an omega who had infrequent heats, based off of what she had overshared with Trinity two months ago, but most importantly, she was an omega.
An omega who would be able to provide Dennis with a lot more help than she could right now.
“Hey, stay right here. I’ll be back in a minute,” Trinity told Dennis as she stepped out and closed the curtain behind her, making a straight beeline to Mel. “Hey, Mel,” Trinity greeted her, then motioned with her thumb over her shoulder pointing in Dennis’s direction. “Can you help me for a minute?”
Mel looked at Trinity, slightly curious. “You need my help?” she asked, Trinity didn’t often come to her for help.
“Um, sure,” she said as she stood up. “What do you need help with?”
“Just… follow me,” Trinity said as she motioned for Mel to follow. She brought Mel over to the bed Dennis was in, opening the curtain just enough for them both to enter it.
“What’s- oh,” Mel said, her eyes widening as she took in the state of Dennis on the hospital bed. “You’re about to start your heat.”
“What?” Dennis said, looking at Mel confused. “What are you guys talking about? I’m a beta. I’d know if I was an omega.”
Mel nodded as she finally seemed to understand where Dennis was coming from. “While most people present their secondary genders in their teen years, there is a tiny but sizable percentage that present in adulthood. Thought usually they present by their early twenties at the latest, twenty six might be on the very top of the age range and-”
“No,” Dennis denied her. “There’s no way I’m an omega.”
“Dennis,” Trinity said, trying for a softer approach. “You have a fever right now, you’re dehydrated, ask anyone outside and they’ll say you have a very sweet scent right now.”
“I just- I’m just coming down with the flu or something right now,” Dennis said,shaking his head, not believing where they were coming from. “I’ll go home, can;t have people getting more sick than they already are, but an omega? Seriously?”
“Hey, what’s going on over here?” They all heard Robby’s voice say before the curtain was roughly pulled open.
All three pairs of eyes turned straight to look at the attending. None of them said anything. Robby blinked as he stared and took the scene in. Dennis was lying on the bed, Trinity and Mel on either side of him.
Then Robby’s nose twitched. The sweet smell he had been getting wafts of throughout the ER this morning was suddenly stronger here, and he had found its source…
Dennis Whitaker, the recently turned first year resident.
And just like what Jack had been trying to tell him this morning, and the conclusion his mind had been drifting towards throughout the day. Dennis was definitely an omega.
An omega who seemed to be going through his first heat.
Robby let out a sigh, in front of him, all three residents squirmed.
Robby thought things over quickly. Whitaker obviously needed to go home, he couldn’t be in the middle of an ER in the throes of heat. He also definitely shouldn’t be alone for his first one.
And while he should send Trinity with him, she was only a beta. Mel was another omega, who appeared to already be trying to help Whitaker.
Could he survive being down three residents today?
They were barely halfway through their shift right now, and though Robby didn’t want to jinx anything, somehow they weren’t that busy today.
He ran a hand over his forehead. They had two residents from the night shift on call right now. Usually they only brought them in when events happened that caused waves of news critical patients to come in. But it looked like he was going to need to bring them in now.
“Okay,” Robby sighed. “I’m letting the three of you leave early to take care of Whitaker-”
“What?” Dennis said. “I’m f-”
“You’re about to enter the worst heat of your life,” Robby told him, stopping any of his protests saying otherwise. If he knew anything, the later an omega went before presenting, the worse their symptoms would be that first heat. “I’m taking you off the schedule for the rest of the week. Trust me, you won’t want to be here.”
Then Robby turned his attention to Trinity and Mel, looking between them. “You’ll make sure he gets home and won’t die tonight?” he asked.
They both nodded vigorously.
“Then go home.”
🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹 🩹
It was four months later, when Dennis began to pick up on some pre-heat symptoms he was displaying.
After his first heat, he went to Mel and asked her everything and anything he could think of about being an omega, and she had been happy to answer every question he could think of. One of the most important questions - what signs should he be looking out for to know when he is about to enter a heat?
And in the last twelve hours, he had shown each sign at least once. The only thing he was missing was the heated skin and low grade fever. Well, that and at least so far, no one has told him he had started to smell sweeter, which was just a weird thought to think about… he was going to start smelling sweeter…
But anyway, he had a couple days now to prepare before he went into his second heat.
Mel had told him that most omegas find their heats to be better, even enjoyable, when they spend it with a partner. After his first experience, Dennis highly doubted he would ever find a heat to be enjoyable, but first…
He needed to find someone he could have as a ‘partner’ during this. Why did thinking of it that way make his skin feel slimy?
So now, who did that leave him with?
Dennis thought it over as he and Trinity walked into their next shift at the hospital. Thinking about who he could ask to spend his heat with him.
Trinity, while she said she had helped some omegas through their heats before, Dennis thought it would make him feel too weird. His eyes spotted Robby as they walked through the doors to the ER.
Dennis wouldn’t mind spending his heat with Robby, in fact, it was what he had many dreams about the last couple of months. But that was a crazy thought. There was no way Robby would want to do it… right?
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It’s not like he doesn’t want her to have her fun; he knows that would be unfair, because she is a wonderful butterfly full of colors and laughter and all things sunshine, and he fell in love because she is like that.
Characters: Rinoa Heartilly, Squall Leonhart, Zone, Watts
Pairing: Rinoa Heartilly/Squall Leonhart
Written for: Mating March @monthlywritingchallenges for prompts instinct; territorial; jealousy; “come here”; scent; proximity; a warning growl; possessive; romance; public vs private; softening after; guarded; pulled closer; mine
Additional tags: first love, established relationship, fluff&angst, happy ending, romance, learning to love, vulnerability
In Bringing Home Barbarian, we get a glimpse at the little alpha and the little omega. Soul mates even though they have not grown up and realized it yet. Before they grew up to be mates, Ian was Mandy’s bestie and her baby brother Mickey sometime tagged along.
Ian spotted Mandy across the playground, her ponytail already frazzled and her face wearing that I‑am‑so‑done expression. The reason was obvious: Mickey, three years old, full of energy , and currently pumping his legs on the swing trying to launch himself into orbit.
“Push me, Manda! HIGHER! HIGHER! HIGHER!” Mickey shrieked, kicking his little sneakers out so hard his whole body wiggled and almost slid off the cheap plastic seat.
Mandy groaned. “Mickey, I’ve been pushing you for twenty minutes. My arms are gonna fall off.”
“Nooo,” Mickey whined, gripping the chains. “More high! More high! I big boy!”
Ian wandered over, hands in his pockets. “Hey, Mand. Need backup?”
“Yes,” she said instantly. “Please. Before I run away and join the circus, or strangle him with the swing chain.”
Mickey spotted him and lit up. “EEYN! EEYN! Push pease! Push me! You do it! You do it!”
Ian sighed but stepped behind the swing. “Alright, bud. Hold tight.”
Mickey squealed with delight as Ian pushed him, legs flailing, paci bouncing, the whole swing set rattling like it might lift off the ground. Mandy flopped onto the nearest bench, draping her arm over her eyes.
But after a while, even Ian’s patience wore thin. “Okay, Mickey. Time to hop off.”
“No.” Mickey’s voice went high and stubborn. “I stay. I swing forever.”
“Mickey,” Mandy warned, “get off or no cartoons tonight.”
“No!” he yelled, kicking harder. “I SWING. FOREVER.”
Ian stopped the swing and crouched in front of him. “Hey, Mickey. Pick a side: swing… or ice cream.”
Mickey froze mid‑kick. His face scrunched. His eyebrows arched. His whole body vibrated with toddler-level decision-making.
Finally he whispered, “Icee stead pease.”
” Sure thing,” Ian did smoothly.
Mandy threw her hands up. “Ian! You’re such a softie!”
Ian shrugged. “I’ve got two younger siblings. Negotiation is my whole life.”
***
The new store in the neighborhood had an icee machine so they headed over.The Kash and Grab smelled like popcorn and floor cleaner. Mickey zoomed inside like a wind‑up toy, arms flapping.
“ICEE! ICEE! ICEE!” he chanted, hopping from foot to foot.
“Walk,” Mandy hissed. “Walk, Mickey!”
He ran faster.
He skidded to the Icee machine and immediately grabbed the handle, filling the cup with red, then blue, then green, then purple, then something that might’ve been cola or motor oil.
“Mickey!” Mandy yelped. “Stop mixing flavors!”
But it was too late. The cup looked like a rainbow had melted.
The store owner, Kash, stomped over. “Hey! Little man! You can’t mix all the flavors like that! It makes a mess!”
Mickey pouted then glared.”NO YELL ME!” And before anyone could stop him,he kicked Kash right in the shin.
“Mickey!” Mandy shrieked.
Kash’s face turned red. “Hey! Control your kid!”
Ian stepped between them, gently pushing Mickey behind him. “He’s three,” Ian said, voice firm. “He didn’t mean it. Don’t yell at him.Your scaring him. It’s ok buddy, don’t cry, I’ll fix it.”
Mickey peeked around Ian’s leg, clutching his cup like a treasure. “Eeyn protec’ me,” he whispered proudly.Then he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at Kash.
Kash grumbled but backed off, rubbing his shin.
Ian sighed. “Let’s just pay and go before he kicks someone else.Or drinks his body weight in sugar.”
***
When they got home, Mickey burst through the door like a confetti cannon.
“MAMA! MAMA! I hang wif big kids! Eeyn buy me lots FLAVOR SLURPEE!”
Mama turned, eyes crinkling at the sight of him, his lips were blue, his cheeks were red, his chin was green, and his shirt looked like a tie‑dye experiment gone wrong.
“Oh, poppet,” she said, pressing a hand to her heart. “Bath. Immediately.”
“Okay,” Mickey chirped. “But Mama hide my snickers. Eeyn got for me and stupid‑head Iggy will eat it.”
“Mickey,” Mama warned, “we do not call your brother that.”
“He is stupid head,” Mickey muttered, stomping toward the bathroom.
Later that night, freshly scrubbed and wearing joker pajamas, Mickey sat at the kitchen table with crayons scattered everywhere. Terry still had two months in jail which meant music was playing and mama even had money to buy food and treats.
Mama peeked over his shoulder. “What are you making, poppet ?”
“A thank you for Eeyn,” Mickey said proudly. “He savd me from mean man and he push me and he buy me icee.”
“That’s very kind.”
Mickey nodded seriously. “I got crush.”
Mama smiled , pulling out a chair and picking Mickey up so he could color while they snuggled. “A crush?”
“Uh‑huh. When I big,” Mickey said, drawing a stick figure with wild red hair, “I gonna marry Eeyn.”
Mama bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Well… that’s very sweet.”
Mickey held up his picture, scribbles, hearts, and a lopsided stick‑Ian holding hands with a tiny stick‑Mickey.
“Eeyn gonna LOVE it,” Mickey declared, bouncing in his seat. “I big kid now.”
Mama kissed the top of his head. “You certainly are.”
