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#poly!dream team
sunshine-on-marz · 1 year
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I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO A POLY DREAM X GEORGE X READER LIKE THEY DO THE MUTE, DEAF, BLIND BAKING CHALLENGE CAUSE ITS ALL I SEE IN MY FYP😭😭
🤍🤍
Yes yes yes, ok so ima do it like this.
George:Mute
Dream:Deaf
Sapnap:Blind
Y/N:Makes sure no one dies
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Beginning:
“Ok, we’re live!” “HELLO CHAT” “holy fuck he’s loud” “omg chat look at George” you pan over to George who is just, 🧍🏻.
Cooking:
Sapnap almost cut his hand off, Dream gets scared everytime someone walks near him and he sees you in his peripheral, George gets yelled at and just walks away and stops helping case he’s a baby and can’t yell back. The food is burnt. You are crying laughing
After:
The boys refuse to watch clips of themselves from this stream because they’re embarrassed-
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zu-is-here · 8 months
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Memories
Ink by comyet
Dream by jokublog
Underswap!Sans from underswapped by p0pcornpr1nce || Blueberror by loverofpiggies
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justpuppylove · 11 months
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DREAM TEAM NSFW HEADCANONS
To start this account off right I neeeeedddd to share my nsfw dream team headcanons.
Dream✧˚ · .
-Hes an absolute thigh man. He sees your thighs and he physically drools over them. This man would beg to thigh fuck you and he’d for sure leave hickeys all over them.
-On that note, he loves giving you hickeys and love bites. They’re always very gentle though, they usually fade very quickly which gives him an excuse to do it all over again
-He’s for sure more of a top but at the same time he’d get into his knees for you. He’d let you think you have control only to flip you over and make you scream for him.
-He can be very rough with you but if he ever seriously hurt you he’d be in debt to you forever. No matter how rough he is with you he always checks on you to make sure you’re okay, he makes sure a safe word is established and that you’re comfortable enough to tell him if anything he does is really too much.
-This man gives amazing aftercare, he’s always the sweetest after he fucks you into the mattress.
Sapnap。.。➶
-He’s definitely a hard top, he loves to see you all fucked out underneath him.
-You can expect a really hard fuck by making him jealous, which is extremely easy to achieve. He needs you to know you’re his and he’ll do anything to hear you tell scream his name.
-He for sure has a daddy kink but he’s too embarrassed to admit it. Its always such a treat for him to hear you call him daddy, you can always use this to your advantage.
-He loves embarrassing you while you’re fucking, he thinks it’s so adorable how flustered you get because of him, it really boosts his ego.
-After arguments he always makes it up to you by overstimulating you all to hell, which is the opposite of his usual edging and teasing.
George ੈ✩‧₊˚
[this one’s gonna be controversial but I’m gonna stand by it idccc]
-George is more of a top. Although he will bottom for you occasionally he loves to have control over you. He loves when you’re a slutty mess for him.
-He absolutely loves head. Giving and receiving, he just loves it so much. Watching his cum spill out all over your face and looking you in your eyes while he swallows your cum are two of his favorite things.
-Pet names are his absolute favorite thing. Calling you bunny, puppy, baby, etc and watching as it turns you into a mess for him.
-He high key has a breeding kink, he begs to cum inside of you because he just loves filling you up with his kids. After a long round he stares in awe as his cum leaks out of you.
-He loves both praising and degrading. He loves being praised and he loves degrading you. It gives him such a power boost and cannot get enough of it.
Poly Dteam ❁۪ ⋆·˚ ༘ *
-They all love battling for your attention and they all get jealous if they don’t get it.
-They give you all the attention and you always end up w cum all over your body while they tell you how pretty you look and how amazing you did for them.
-They love how embarrassed you get by all the attention and they always tease you for it, they most definitely get off on it.
-Dream loves to sit back and watch while you’re absolutely ravished by the two other men, especially when he can tell you still need him.
-If you give one of them more attention than the other two the one you gave more attention to teases the other men about how they can’t please you like he does.
-The aftercare after a rough fuck from your 3 boys is always amazing, they all clean you up and give you their undivided attention. The cuddles are the best.
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pray4saint · 9 months
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that’d be cool!
the first time they watched her
masterlist & descrip. tv-ma. 15+. implied smut. showgirl!reader. poly!snf. link to original ask & secondary ask. also original poly!snf + showgirl!reader thirst. use of cc's real names. voice/accent kink. 0.9k words.
a/n. euehheheheh
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the lounge was dark, and you could feel all eyes on you and the other showgirls out with you. most of the men around the room were downing alcohol like it was nothing, laughing and jeering and hollering at the stage. but there were two sets of eyes that felt as if they burned into your skin. they were hard to see, but once you'd looked in their direction, their gaze hardened. every opportunity you got in your routine to look at them you took and you discerned three things. one, they really liked what they were seeing, because there wasn't a second you felt their eyes move off you. two, they were doing business. you could see their mouths moving, clear they were talking to each other, and the drinks between them, you'd seen the scene plenty of times, this was business. third, they were fine. the taller of the two was lankier, paler and wore a grin that was to die for. the other, slightly shorter, donned a tuft of brown hair on his face, and both just looked good. even from afar, you could just tell, they were fine. then you looked back and they were talking to the lounge's owner, and then coming back around again, they were gone.
rather soon, the show was over and your group shuffled backstage, and you couldn't help but wish they'd stuck around.
pushing the door to your dressing room open while your head hung low to scratch at your neck, you didn't hear how the men standing not six feet from you adjusted in their respective spots. your head did snap up when you heard someone clear there throat, and then there they were. in front of you, in your dressing room. ”miss y/l/n?” his accent surprised you and it took you a minute to look down at his outstretched hand and place yours in his. ”uhm, hello.” he nodded to you and you returned it before turning your head to the man sat on your sofa and nodding to him. ”is there something i can do for you gentlemen?” you say, pulling your hand away from the brit's. now, you can see them closer, and you were right. you could see the dark brown of the brit's eyes and how his lips quirked up at your polite behaviour. the brit glanced over to the other man and your eyes followed his. finally, the man on the sofa speaks up after sucking in a deep breath. ”well, sweetheart first of all we wanted to congratulate you on that performance you gave.” gently, both the men clapped and you smiled, partially at the compliment and partially at his southern accent followed by a minuscule curtsy. ”oh! thank you.”
”and second, wanted to know if we could perhaps, escort you home?” your brows raised at the question. ”oh, i don't know about that,” you pause, stepping farther into the room to get to your vanity, now both the boys behind you but still to either side of you. ”i've still got to change and get all this makeup off, and i wouldn't want you two to have to wait around for little old me. also i really don't know who either of you gentlemen are.” you reached for the drawer off to the side before your wrist was reached for. the fingers on your hand were long, and pale, understood to be brit. ”george davidson.” slowly, you nod, and then you can feel the breath of the southern man behind you. your head whips around to see him grinning at you. ”armstrong. nick armstrong.” the close sentences with their individual accents make your breath hitch at how it started to make you a little dizzy. george releases your hand, pulling his hand back into the pocket of his slacks. shaking it off quickly, you turn around. ”and what are you doing here? never seen either of you boys around.”
again, george is the first to speak. ”international business is all.” he smiles and you look at him in the mirror, smiling right back before shifting your gaze against the glance. ”what about you mr. armstrong?” he gives a quick scratch to the underside of his beard before responding. ”making deals with the english.” his words make you laugh a little bit while george rolls his eyes.
quickly, you turn around, and open your arms wide to almost usher them out although it doesn't really work. ”well, as great as it's been to talk to you gentlemen, you really should get going, don't wanna keep you two waiting.” at your words, the two men smirk. ”listen, love,” the petname makes you a little dizzy and you can't help the way it warms your sex. it just sounded so good coming from his mouth. he hooks his finger under your chin, turning your face so you're looking up at him. ”i'm sure you can figure out a way to repay us for having to wait.” and there's that stupid grin of his again. nick moves to stand behind you, hands moving to your waist. oh you could most definitely think of a way to repay them.
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pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.
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glamoureddreamer · 1 year
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Stop
Undertale (Nightmare Gang and the Dream team)
Warnings: blood, mention of self harm, mention of suicidal behavior/ thoughts, implied old relationships, implied old poly, implied new poly (please let me know if I’ve missed anything)
If you or a loved one has been suicidal thoughts or actions in anyway please get help from one of the multiple help hotlines. You matter and you deserve help. Thank you everyone, have a great day and know whatever your going through gets better <3
“I didn’t know who else to go to.” The pain that laced his voice made Nightmare’s heartache. He saw the blood and the fear only grew in his body. Yet he held his composure.
“Please Nightmare.” Nightmare said nothing he thought for a moment. He sighs letting Cross and the dream team in. He closes the door once they are inside.
Killer walked up behind Nightmare, he could feel Killer's anger as the Sans stared at Cross.
“Take him down to the medical bay, I assume you still remember the way.” Cross gave a curt nod and left.
Nightmare turned towards Killer, behind him in the doorway Horror, Dust, and Error could be seen watching. Horror looked to be in tears, Dust was rubbing his back.
“Killer.” The Sans looked at him but said nothing, his face said enough.
“Just keep an eye on them, do not engage unless they do.”
“Yes, boss.” Nightmare walked close to Killer and leaned next to his skull.
“Are you alright?” Both knew that he couldn’t lie his way out of his one, Nightmare could sense his mood.
“I’m okay enough, just try to make it quick. I don’t want him here.”
“I don’t either, we’ll discuss this together later.” Nightmare placed a gentle kiss on Killer's forehead.
He began to make his journey to the medical bay where Cross and Dream were.
The closer he got to the medical bay the stronger he could feel Cross’s fear. He couldn’t feel Dream's annoying positivity, it was concerning, to say the least.
Nightmare pushes open the door only to find Dream laying in the medical bed and Cross crying over him. Cross was always sensitive.
The soldier immediately forced his sobs to stop once he noticed Nightmare.
“I-“ Nightmare held up his hand, stopping him from speaking.
“Did he do this to himself?” Cross nodded. Nightmare walked over and glazed down upon his dying brother. Nightmare gently lifted his right arm and looked at it.
“We were too weak to.. to heal him- but I knew you could and I-“ Cross cut himself off with a sob, and he covered his mouth. He started to hiccup and breathe heavily. It pained Nightmare.
“Cross.” The Sans looked up with fear-stricken eyes.
“Relax and breathe, panicking will not help him.” Cross nodded and took a few deep breaths before finally calming back down.
“Sorry I-“
“There’s no need to apologize.” Nightmare’s hand hovered over Dream’s wound. He began to slowly heal it.
It grew quiet while Nightmare worked. Though Nightmare could feel Cross sitting with his guilt. Before Nightmare could even ask Cross why he was guilty, he spoke up.
“I’m sorry.” Nightmare understood why. He swallowed his anger.
“Okay.”
“I know I hurt you guys, and I will never be able to forgive myself for it. I just wanted you to understand that I still care for every one of you, and I am so sorry for causing you pain.” A single teal tear leaked out of Nightmare's eye.
He couldn’t find his voice, perhaps he had spent so much time ignoring this feeling that he never really got over Cross leaving.
“You know, he left a note. So he intended to…” Cross cleared his throat before continuing.
“He wanted the fighting to stop. He doesn’t want to fight you anymore. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He wanted us to work together.”
It may never have seemed like it but Nightmare truly cared about Dream. He cared so much about his team and Cross. He cared about them all.
He finished with Dream’s arm and went to the next.
“I suppose… we could try.” Cross looked up with a small smile.
“However the damage has already been done, so a lot of healing will need to be done.”
Cross nodded, and he stopped smiling.
“I understand.”
Nightmares finally finished with healing his brother. He sighs out of relief.
“Will he be okay?”
“Most likely yes, but it’s unknown. He was very hurt.” Cross nodded grimly.
“I need to go check on the others… if.. if Dream wakes up let me know. I would like to have a discussion with him.”
Cross nodded. “Of course.”
Nightmare nodded and opened the door.
“Hey, Nightmare?” He turned to look at Cross.
“Yes?”
“…Thank you, I hope I can make everything up to you. To all of you.”
“Me too.” Nightmare said while leaving.
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zukiarise · 2 years
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Day 4 KINKTIBER 2022
Todays theme- Teasing
Pairings- Dream Team and Reader
Warnings- She/Her pronouns used, P in V, MDNI, I am not responsible for your internet consumption if you feel uncomfortable at anytime leave.
Smut under the cut
It had been twenty minutes since Sapnap went to the airport to pick up your love boyfriend, leaving Dream to get you prepared. Something that had been spoken about since George announced his travel plans. Dreams fingers had worked themselves inside to your tight hole.
“God hot stuff you’re so fucking tight, that little pussy of yours is just waiting for master huh?” He asked slapping your cunt sending a jolt through your body.
With that a whine was released from your move creating friction between your legs.
“No baby, we don’t do that. Only we get to help you” he continued spreading your legs apart.
The front door open and closed as he left you writhing to cum. The small whine as the three men open the door seeing the newly discovered girlfriend of there’s small tears on her face as George looks at her..
“Awe you poor baby…Are you missing a cock in your hole?” George stated walking forward to you. Leaning down and kissing your forehead. Taking his cock out of his tight jeans he lays you to your back lining up and slamming himself in.
“Such a pretty girl” Sapnap says as he strokes your hair dream going to your other side holding your hand.
“Fuck baby.. you’re so fucking…Hot!” George yells out moaning and stopping as your walks clench around him both of you releasing.
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lowpolyparrot · 2 years
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two cute characters hugging :]
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tinkerbitch69 · 1 month
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Suicide Squad: Dream Team #1 by Nicole Maines with art by Eddy Barrows
So Harley’s nickname for Nia Nal is ‘Dreamy’, huh?
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(I ship it)
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batwritings · 2 years
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Hiya Bat! It's 🕸 with another Dog-Boy!Reader x DTeam request lolz.
[He/They please!! :))]
Okay, so..this one isn't so innocent.
Reader is going through a heat/rut, but he's too scared to tell their partners. DTeam finds out, they help Reader out, and aftercare and fluff in general. Just basically Smut to Tooth-Rotting fluff.
Sub!Reader if possible.
[Hyperfixated on Dogboy!Reader rn ❗❗]
That's it! Again, make sure to eat something, drink something, and have a great day! Don't feel rushed to do any requests! Take your time!!
Sorry if it doesn't make sense. :)
-🕸
This actually makes perfect sense! I'm glad life's been good btw and I hope you're getting good rest, good food, and hydrating! Enjoy!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Being a dog hybrid, there were still a lot of things the Dream Team was still learning about you. What you needed to keep yourself busy, what foods you liked and were appropriate for your health, much like both humans and dogs. One thing you didn't let them know about was your mating cycle. You didn't know how they'd take it, which is why you didn't speak up about it as the middle of the month approached.
Dream was the first to find you, arousal having kept you up in bed that morning. He had been worried when you didn't join the rest of them for breakfast, and while you had your days for sleeping in, it was usually when something was wrong. "Pup?" he called, peeking into the room. "You okay?"
You whined in response, curling further in on yourself. "Dreeamm..." you responded through pants. "Helllp..." He was beside your bed in an instant, ripping the covers back from your overheated form. He saw you in a way that he hadn't in a long while, cock hard and flushed between your legs as you ground against your pillow.
"Hang on Pup," Dream muttered, pressing a kiss to your head. "I'm gonna get Sap and George." He was gone from the room before you could protest, the cool air from the door closing a blessing on your sweat slick back.
The few minutes he was gone felt like an eternity, but true to his word, the blond returned with his two best friends in tow. Time seemed to stand still as they all three took in your writhing form. Finally, a dam broke in your mind. "If one of you doesn't fuck me right fucking now I sw--" your threat was cut off as another wave of pleasure shook your core. Regardless, your message was more than received.
Dream helped sit you up, his very touch like fire on your already overheated skin. He held your knees up, while Sapnap got between them for prepwork. George had quickly stripped himself, settling himself in your lap where he could grind both your cocks together. "Focus on me Puppy," he cooed, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. "Let Sap get you all nice and ready for us yeah?"
You whined, but nodded knowing you would eventually get the pleasure your body was crying out for. Your boys worked in tandem, a mixture of verbal and physical sensations that had you melting in an instant. Dream's sweet words and praise ran through your foggy head, George's kisses and nips kept you grounded, and Sapnap felt like he had magic in his hands as he spread you open.
You had all but forgotten about the horny thoughts that plague you when you felt the man between your legs penetrated you. You moaned out as George switched to marking up your neck. You could barely form coherent words by the time Sapnap actually had a solid pace worked up.
Your mind was in a flurry but there was one main focus; coming. Dream, as always, was sharing your braincell. "You wanna come for Sapnap Pup?" he hummed deviously, licking along the shell of your ear to watch you shiver. Your response was positive, if barely understandable, which made both George and Dream chuckle. "Go on then, come undone for Pandas."
You whimpered and whined as you came, legs shaking with the strain of holding them up. Dream took up most of the work as you spilled against your stomach and George's back. Sapnap wasn't far behind you, not that he could've resisted with how you were clenching onto him.
Your chest heaved as you fell back against Dream's chest, muffled praise from both him and George filling your ears. Finally, the Texan between your legs spoke up with what each of them had been wondering. "Sooo, you gonna tell us what that was about Y/N?" he pondered aloud. Suddenly, all eyes were on you as you felt heat rise to your cheeks.
"I..." you knew there was no hiding it now. "I go through like...cycles...where I need to mate or be bred. I'm still kind of part dog and all..."
"Baby!" Dream said in astonishment. "You could've told us! We would've prepped for this kind of thing. You need like, blankets and pillows and whatnot right?"
"On it," George said, quickly picking himself up off your lap to grab all of his various blankets.
"I was just embarrassed," you mumbled. "I didn't know how you guys would take it." Dream exchanged a knowing look with Sapnap.
"Don't worry Puppy, we'll take the best care of you."
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bad268 · 2 years
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Empty (C! Dream Team X Reader)
Fandom: Dream SMP
Requested: Day 14 of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing!
Warnings: Depressed reader
Pronouns: You/your
W.C. 438
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
Writing Inktober 2022 Materlist
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~~(^Google/Redbubble)
They knew this was coming. As soon as you alluded to violence, something you tried your best to stay out of, they knew. One day, you would crack. They just did not expect it to be today.
They were running around L’Manburg, frantically looking for you as they knew that Wilbur was planning on blowing it up. It wasn’t until Sapnap saw you talking with Wilbur in an alley that they knew what was going to happen. Instead of immediately running to you, Sapnap went in search of Dream and George, knowing it would be easier to talk you down with all of them there. When they all came back, you were gone, and Wilbur was nowhere to be seen.
It is when they see Philza running towards the alley that they see a hidden button that a secret door opened up, and inside, you starring blankly at the only button on the wall.
“Y/N/N,” George said quietly as they all entered the room. You don’t acknowledge them. “What are you doing?”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” you started. “They hate us. They hate me. And I was one of the ones who built it.” You paused. You looked back at your three boyfriends. George looked upset, Sapnap looked angry, and you couldn’t see Dream’s face. You just smiled at them, but the glint in your eye did not show happiness. Your eyes were wild, and none of them could gauge your next move. You turned back to the wall before shouting, “The thing that I build this nation for doesn’t exist anymore!”
“Wait,” Dream interrupted. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t do whatever you’re thinking of,” Sapnap tried.
“It’s over,” you laughed as you pressed the button and TNT began exploding around the festival. Dream and Sapnap jumped to pull you back, from getting killed, while George was frozen in shock. Once it came to an end, your laughing stopped, and you signed, “it’s finally over.”
“Are you okay? Why would you do that?” Sapnap exclaimed burying his face into your neck, glad that you didn’t lose your last life.
“They hate me,” you said simply. You pointed out toward the citizens of L’Manburg who were all looking at the four of you.  “Look at them.”
“They don’t hate you,” George said, coming up behind you. Dream stood in front of you all, blocking the view of onlookers.
“Why would you do that?” Dream pushed quietly.
“I’m empty, so if you’ve ever loved me, kill me,” you said with a wavering voice and tears collecting in your eyes. “Please.”
~Y/N was killed by Dream with Nightmare~
~~~~~
© BAD268 2022. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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asteralien · 30 days
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got really spoiled on all the cutscenes from doing more long rests and now in act ii there aren’t as many and i feel very :< about it. i wanna talk to my friens
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sunshine-on-marz · 1 year
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Poly!Dteam x Reader
“Welcome to the stream!”
In which: the dteam reveals the relationship on stream
Tw: a little bit of hate and anxiety
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“Ok” Clay sat down on the couch, i between you and sapnap, with George on your left. (Like this | | | |) George adjusted the camera to fit all four of you. Dream leaned over to kiss his cheek and then grabbed you and sap’s hands. You were clearly nervous and Sapnap had picked up on it. He stood up and moved to crouch in front of you. “Baby, you know it’s all gonna be ok, right?” You looked at him and nodded but it was clear you were unsure. He took your hand in his own. “It’s gonna be ok, and even if the whole world explodes because of this stream, we’ll still love you” you giggled a bit at his dramatics and nodded again, but without lying this time. He smiled and ruffled your hair a bit before sitting back down. After that Dream looked at the three of you and nodded before hitting «go live». The «starting soon» screen was already up and you guys sat and watched chat for about 45 seconds while the viewer count jumped from 0 to 100 to 1k to 10k to 30k. All four of you had tweeted about the stream and posted on your instagram stories and said that the stream was important. At 45k viewers Dream turned on facecam. “Hi guys” Dream started and chat was going insane. “Alright guys, let’s just get this over with, yea?” All of you looked at one another and Sapnap decided to just say it. “We’re dating. All of us.” It felt like the whole world went quiet for a moment, but then you saw chat. There was so much support. There was hate here and there but the mods caught most of it before you saw it. Dream was already putting up a picture of the Google page on poly relationships on screen and George was holding your hand extremely tight. You looked to him and he seemed starry eyed while looking from you Dream and sap to chat then back. You pulled his hand to your lips and he countered by pulling you into a kiss. Chat goes even crazier, saying ‘CLIP THAT’ and ‘OMG’ and other things. You pulled away and leaned onto Dreams shoulder. You looked to Sap and he smiled at you. After chat cooled off a bit (and ‘they’re dating?!’ was trending in n twitter) the four of you played a few rounds of Jackbox on stream. Unbeknownst to you Sapnap had banned a handful of people for being especially rude to you but he was just happy knowing that you wouldn’t see the chats. After about an hour of Jackbox you guys did a small QnA, answering questions like ‘when did you start dating’ and ‘what’s your favorite thing about the others’ from chat then ended stream. It was a very successful day.
—————
Did I spend 3 hours on this. Yes, yes I did.
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full-moon-ships · 9 months
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Hate that i dont post abt my military men btw. They are CONSTANTLY on my mind and yet i never voice it. Sad!
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43. 👀
My bf🥰🥰 and Mason Gooding
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 1 - The Introduction
Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.
MASTERLIST | Next ->
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“I don’t like this.” 
“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.” 
He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?” 
“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.” 
That doesn’t make him feel any better.
He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago. 
He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink. 
He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her. 
“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting. 
As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care. 
He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long. 
His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic. 
Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not. 
He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack. 
Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week. 
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You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head. 
You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath. 
“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-” 
“Classified?” You finish for her. 
Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...” 
The less there is to make you a target. 
You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time. 
What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going. 
“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.” 
You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal. 
That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military. 
That, and the excuse for violence. 
Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented. 
In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you. 
“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together. 
“Tired.” You run a hand across your face. 
“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.” 
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You look nervous. 
He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly. 
This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega. 
His omega. 
As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy. 
“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand. 
He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly. 
He doesn’t even want to think about that. 
Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy. 
“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand. 
You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed. 
“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.” 
You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side. 
He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents. 
“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say.
Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit. 
Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about. 
“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?” 
Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.” 
Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went. 
“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.” 
“What sort of hesitations?” He asks. 
“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.” 
Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right. 
Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.” 
“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega. 
“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”
“That could be dangerous.” Price says. 
“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.” 
Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.
“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” 
He hasn’t failed her yet. 
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Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked. 
The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.
You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags. 
Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment. 
You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent. 
You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk. 
One more to go. 
You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk. 
This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity. 
He’s going to be a problem. 
You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible. 
Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane. 
“Coming, Si?” 
Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared. 
You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute. 
Nothing that could dampen your natural scent. 
You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack? 
“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door. 
Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly. 
Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says. 
You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no. 
You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back. 
“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.” 
It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression. 
Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?” 
Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.” 
Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it. 
You can hold power over them. 
The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to. 
You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.
Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile. 
Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell. 
You’re beginning to see the dynamics already. 
“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in. 
All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha. 
Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”  
Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs. 
“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?” 
You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.” 
“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer. 
You nod. “Yes, sir.” 
“You lived on base?” He asks. 
You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.” 
“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it. 
It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say. 
The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well. 
“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.” 
“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent. 
You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.” 
“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks. 
You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.” 
“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks. 
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.” 
“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks. 
Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance. 
“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.
“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.” 
You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.” 
Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails. 
Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze. 
He’s going to be a problem. 
“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.” 
You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either. 
“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.” 
You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting. 
“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach. 
His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell? 
What if they don’t like the way you smell? 
“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you. 
You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier. 
“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.” 
All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible. 
“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully. 
Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen. 
He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack. 
You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs. 
“Ready?” 
You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin. 
He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland. 
His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others. 
“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you. 
You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours. 
He’s testing you. 
You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl. 
He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting. 
Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached. 
You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place. 
“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?” 
You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head. 
“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.” 
His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland. 
You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you. 
“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze. 
“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this. 
“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”
He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice. 
Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him. 
You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat. 
You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper. 
“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek. 
You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze. 
You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them. 
They could if they wanted to. 
It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you. 
“You hungry, pup?” 
Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work. 
Pup. Price called you Pup. 
You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you. 
The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment. 
“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again. 
You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.” 
“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.” 
You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out. 
“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear. 
His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes. 
Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear. 
The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing. 
He’s proving his ability as a provider. 
In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can. 
You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you. 
He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks. 
A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost. 
Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult. 
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I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...
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boiohboii · 4 months
Text
The people's sweethearts
Ch II
(Verstappen!reader x tom holland x zendaya)
Soulmate au
YN Verstappen had been through hell, by her own father, for something she didn't even ask for. She grew up learning that she should hate what was given to her, after all it was the reason her father was always angry with her. So what should she do when the one thing she learned to hate is the one thing that brings her love, safe and comfort that not even her older brother can compare.
WARNING: not proof read, Jos Verstappen (worsned like 10 times for this fic) poly relationship, derogatory terms by father, abusive father. If I missed anything else please let me know
Masterlist
ch.I
Faceclaim: kiki hertz
Tom prided himself in never exposing his soulmark, he let a lot of things out that shouldn't be and his soulmark not being one of those is such an achievement. Mostly because from a very young age, when he started acting, his mother would make sure he covered it up with makeup so that no one, not even those behind the scenes would see it.
"So, you're invited to watch cars drive in circles?"
Meeting Zendaya had been a dream, they both felt the need to be closer to each other whenever possible even before they discovered their identical soulmarks. Both of them working and hanging around each other made it so much difficult to conceal their newfound relationship and eventually the whole world knew that both of them were soulmates, and not just that, everyone was now aware that Tom Holland and Zendaya Coleman were fated to have a third lover, a third soul with them to keep them sane from all the chaos their lives bring in the form of fans and crazy paparazzi.
"How can you say that?" Tom looked back at his girlfriend as he poured himself some tea "you literally met Lewis Hamilton not that long ago!"
Tom was painfully aware of the fact that Zendaya isn't that interested in either of the sports he enjoys: formula 1 and golf.
"Oh yeah, at a fashion show," Zendaya recalls as she moves over to hug tom from behind, resting her chin on his head. "He was nice."
"Do you think we'll meet our darling soon?" Zendaya asked, making Tom leave his drink to hold her hand in reassurance.
"I think so," turning around he let go of one of zendaya's hands to let his palm rest on her cheek "I know that I met you when I kept thinking about my soulmate, so I have a feeling that we'll meet darling soon."
The couple had taken to calling their third soulmate Darling, a nickname that they both agreed to reserve for their missing soul.
"Yeah, I feel so too."
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Liked by maxverstappen1, F1wags&faves, verstappentruther and 683,519 others
Kellypiquet: a weekend with her was truly missed.
maxverstappen1: ♥️♥️
username: God, yn verstappen is so pretty
username: I wanna be her soulmate so bad
username: LOOK AT HER CHEEKS! I WANNA BITE THEM!
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With his work schedule Tom wasn't able to attend much f1 races, but when he could he did, and most of them were the infamous English track, Silverstone.
But here in Monaco, the races were something else, Tom can feel how the people in this country were raised watching these cars from their homes, cheering for their favorite driver and the preparations for the race throughout the entire country are just mind blowing (he promised himself that he would bring Zendaya here for a vacation, this place is amazing).
"Is something wrong?" The voice of Christian Horner stopped Tom dead in his tracks, the team principle of the red bull formula 1 team making him feel like a little child caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
"Oh, um, yeah, yes-" clearing his throat Tom couldn't help still looking around, wanting to see the reason of the all too familiar tugging his heart "just looking around, the race is very different from Silverstone, the atmosphere is just so..."
And there it was, the reason his heart is pulling, the person he hoped he would meet as soon as he felt their presence in this specific garage, his darling; their darling.
"Well, Monaco is the heart of motorsport, especially formula 1, you can't live here without being a fan really."
Christian wasn't an idiot, he had eyes and his observational skills were too good. It wouldn't be the first time he witnessed a celebrity looking at yn verstappen, the girl hooking everyone in with her innocent face and charming smile. It would, however, be the first time he saw someone loose their breath over her and he knew what that meant, he knew that expression; he had went through it when he met his wife, he saw it on Max when he met Kelly and now he is going to see it on yn.
He thought he met an angel when he saw Zendaya, he thought that the feeling he would get when meeting their darling wouldn't be as strong, as intense, but seeing her there, standing next to Adrian Newey with a notebook and a pen in her hands, discussing something that seemed so important, made him unaware of anything else. She was all he could see, hear and feel. She was who they had been missing, and god did she make him want to scream at the top of his lungs.
He felt his chest swell up with emotions as he quickly reached for his phone, calling the one person he knew would calm him down.
"Hey baby, how's the race going?"
"Z, she's here," Tom rushed out as he maneuvered between the never ending sea of people to a quite place- well as quite as it can get in Monaco during a formula 1 race.
"What? Who's here?"
"Darling! She's here!"
"Darling is a she?"
Gathering her thoughts Zendaya left the lounge area of her hotel suite, dismissing the makeup artists and stylists with a smile and wave of her hand before entering the bedroom within the suite.
"Okay, okay, calm down baby," Zendaya spoke as she ran her hand through her hair "how about you go talk to her, yeah?"
"I can't, oh my god, what if she doesn't even feel the same pull- it's a stupid way to describe it but you know that's how I felt when I met you and it's the same but so much worse cause you're not here with me and I can't do this-"
"Honey, calm down, it's okay, let's take it step by step, did you check her wrist?" Being met with silence worried the tall girl, she knew how it might come off to him when she was basically asking him to check actual evidence and not take his feelings too seriously "I know your feelings, I get that, I felt the same with you, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
"Yeah, yeah," shuffling was heard before Tom apologies for, what zendaya assumed, pumping into someone "no, yeah, you're right, stay with me on the line, I'm going to try and see. She's wearing a sleeveless dress so that will make it easier."
Even though she didn't want to spoil it for herself, she wanted to get 100% of the awe and the fondness for herself, Zendaya couldn't help but ask "what does she look like?"
"So beautiful, Z" the way Tom spoke, the breathlessness and amazement in his voice made her want to cry, she wanted to be there, she wanted to be with him when they first saw her, that's how they always envisioned it.
"Okay, so I checked, and oh my god it's there, it's the same Z, what am I supposed to do, oh my god"
"Here's what you're going to do, you're going to tell her right now!"
"There are like 100 people around, how am I supposed to do that!"
"I don't know tom, tell her you wanna speak to her or something, make it up!"
"I can't do this, I can't, I am freaking out!"
"Oh my god, you're an actor, pretend it's a scene"
"Will you be able to pretend?"
"Well no, but I'm not the one that can see her, am I!"
"Okay, okay, deep breaths, I am going to tell her with you on the phone, alright?" Tom said as he started moving towards the blonde, his confidence building up with his taller soulmate cheering him on through the phone
"Holy shit" and there goes the little confidence he had
"What? Tom! Answer me! Is she dating someone, I swear to god if she is-"
"No, no, she's not," looking back at his soulmate "at least I don't think she is. God, there's no way I am telling her shit now."
"Why not?"
"Her brother can literally run me over with his small rocketship of a car! I am not doing anything when he is literally two centimetres away from her!"
What Tom failed to realise was how Christian Horner had joined the pair of siblings, telling Max and Yn of his earlier observations, which made all three of them look at the young brit in sync.
"Um, Z, I think we won't have to worry about me telling her."
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