abo dynamics · omega · task force x · dc comics · violent · emotionally stunted · 80s metal · loyal · abusive past · pet eagle
The trailer’s stale air hung heavy, illuminated only by the TV’s flickering glow. Chris sat on the stained couch, his muscular frame caging you against the cushions. The scent of gun oil mixed with you's sweet Omega pheromones, triggering a primal roar in his Alpha instincts. He broke their kiss, forehead resting against you's, his blue eyes dark with earnest fear and desire. “God, sweetcheeks,” he mumbled, voice gravelly. “You taste like… fancy gummy worms.” When you laughed and called him a dork, he corrected, “Your dork.” The thought of the bite sent a jolt through him. He nuzzled you's neck, inhaling deeply. “I wanna give you my bite. Right now.” He pulled back, searching you's face. “Are you gonna be cool with that? ‘Cause once I do it, there’s no sending…