Chapter Text
Shamrock leaves your apartment after several long hours of discussion. There were too many variables to count in this reckless plan to get close to Shanks. He still didn't approve. The redhead would have preferred it if you stayed as far from his twin as possible, but he knew that there wasn't any stopping the omega now that Sham had given his green light. He would have to trust her to know when to bug out if things became too much for her. The detective wanted his brother behind bars, but he would not hurt you to get that.
That was the absolute last thing Shamrock wanted.
If Shamrock got what he wanted, then you would already have his mark on your scent gland and be round with at least his third pup by now. Mated, fat, and happy as his omega, safe within his home.
Instead, the alpha sits alone in his office in his suite downtown, head cupped in his right hand as he nurses a glass of whiskey, trying and failing to get rid of the headache that throbbed behind his eyes. Shamrock hated this. He hated the fact that he had agreed to let you go undercover and get close to his twin. The twin who was a danger to society, who had more blood under his nails than in his body.
How the hell was he going to deal with knowing his omega was around Shanks? All alone without Shamrock there to shield her from his perversions. Shamrock knew his twin, and Shanks was a spoiled, demanding creature who thought that the entire world owed him. He took what he wanted and damned the consequences.
Christ. Just the thought made him see red and his scent burn around him like nitroglycerin.
Shamrock knocks back the last of his glass and stands, pacing the short room in front of his desk, mind spinning as he forces his brain to work and plan. You would be undercover just long enough to get Shamrock what he needed, hard, solid proof that Shanks was the leader of Red Force, and then he could get you out and do exactly what he'd been wanting from you for the past four years. You as his mate.
He would sweep you away the second it became appropriate, and he would sequester the two of you away from the world, where Shamrock could keep you safe and away from his twin.
The detective sighs heavily and stands at the bay windows that give him a rather nice view of LA's coast and skyline. He leans his brow against the cool glass and watches his breath fog it up as he breathes, eyes sliding closed as he pictures his partner in all her omegan beauty. Shamrock had escaped to his bedroom the moment he'd stepped into his suite, cock throbbing with need after having spent the last hour scenting you.
You had no idea what you meant to him. Shamrock had attached himself to you like a chain on an anchor. Anywhere you went, he was right there, not far behind. He longed for you, to touch you and kiss you and taste you more than those intimate, friendly gestures that never went past scenting like earlier. Instead, he would have to watch you with his brother and hope that you were strong enough to keep out of Shanks' influence.
Shanks sits at his desk high in the penthouse suite, literally two buildings down from Shamrock. Neither of them realized just how close the other lived, a fact that you would find hilarious later on.
His socked feet are spread wide, and he has his right hand buried in the hair of some pretty beta male Shanks had picked up on the way back home. His cock is stuffed past their lips, cock head tickling the back of the beta's throat, but he wasn't who the redhead was paying attention to. He was just a wet mouth, an escape to be used while Shanks stared at the real prize on his computer screen.
Your Facebook page stared back at him. It was an older picture for your profile, but that didn't matter to Shanks. Not when he could still recall your scent had invaded his very being and made itself perfectly at home. Shanks didn't know you, but that didn't matter to him either. Not when he already knew you belonged to him.
His hand tightens in the beta's hair, and he jerks his hips, seeking his release as he clicks through your posted photos, scrolling your social media. The sounds that were coming from the beta were nearly pornographic, but Shanks hardly heard them. The crime boss lingers over a certain one, and he feels a hot spike of lust shoot down his spine. Fuck. You were a god damn dream in this one.
It was an older photo like all the rest, and you were smiling brightly, two peace signs held up on either side of your sunburned cheeks. You wore a two-piece, a simple, solid bikini, but Shanks thought it was the best thing he's ever laid eyes on. He wants to pull those strings with his teeth and watch your top fall. See those pretty little nipples on full display so that he can suck and lavish attention on them until he is satisfied.
Maybe he'd even pup you, just so that he could drink from you.
That thought alone is enough to make Shanks snarl a curse and pump his hips, ears deaf to the sound of the beta gagging and choking around his cock. He comes with a hiss of your name between his teeth, and he holds the young man at his crotch, hand tight in his hair as thick ropes of seed spill past his lips and down his chin. Shanks huffs and slides his hand free, sending the beta a disdainful look.
"Clean yourself up, and get the fuck out of my building."
The beta stares at Shanks as if he'd just kicked their puppy, big wide eyes as they shuffle in place, "But-"
The redhead cocks a brow and tucks himself away, shifting to sit at his desk properly, "Are you deaf? Get the fuck out of my building."
Shanks doesn't watch him leave, but knows that the beta is gone by the sound of the door slamming shut, leaving the redhead all by himself once more. He sighs and leans back in his chair, pictures of you still all over the screen. He smiles and shifts, cock already growing hard again at the sight of your pretty face staring back up at him. He reaches out and strokes over your cheek, fingers warm against the screen of his monitor.
He couldn't wait to see you again.
You stand in your bathroom, naked and fresh from your shower, some two days later. Shamrock had been called into the office to go over an older case, leaving you to get ready for your new... not assignment.
Shamrock had made it clear that you getting close to Shanks was to be completely off the record. The DA didn't need to know that this was happening. Imu would cut them off faster than they could say peanut.
Hell, you and Sham would probably end up on meter reader duty for a month if she even caught wind of what the two of you were doing. If she didn't revoke your license the second you stepped into her office. Was this a risk to your career? Absolutely, but you were more than willing to take that risk for Shamrock.
The redhead had been your shadow since he first came to LA and was assigned as your partner. Shamrock kept you safe and vice versa when the two of you were out on investigations, working like a well-oiled machine and learning the ins and outs of each other as the days dragged into years. You can't imagine your life without the haunty redheaded alpha anymore.
So yeah, you were loyal to your partner, and he was loyal to you. Bringing his twin in was important to Shamrock, so that meant it was important to you, too.
With a sigh, you reach for your scent blockers like you normally would, only to stall. You needed Shanks to trust you. To…want to have you around, and cutting off your scent wasn't the way to go about that. You needed to be as natural as possible around the dangerous alpha. It was another risk, but one that would hopefully be worth it in the end.
You leave the bathroom and push open the door to your closet, staring at your clothes and frowning. You had a tentative plan in motion. Go for a jog and hope you run into Shanks again. Get his number and then go from there, where you would grow closer and closer until you could get what you wanted out of the alpha. It would be just like any other undercover job you'd done.
But even you knew that wasn't true.
This was much, much different.
Eventually, you dress in your running wear and pull your hair up in a bun, shoving your phone into the back pocket of your leggings before you lock up your apartment and head out. You keep your eyes peeled and your head on a swivel, looking for a shock of familiar red hair as you jog down the sidewalk.
You are on your way back, almost an hour later, disappointed that you hadn't seen the redhead, only to stall when you arrive at your apartment building, and here is a sleek, black car that screams luxury parked in front of the door. You eye it curiously, about to walk right past it and into your building, when the door swings open and Shanks steps out with a charming grin that makes your stomach twist itself into knots.
How did he know where you lived?
"There you are, baby," Shanks said and smiled at you, eyes already dark with arousal at just the sight of your top clinging to your body, slick with sweat from your morning job. "You made me wait, ya know?"
You lick your lips and flash him a friendly smile, trying not to give away how uncomfortable you are right now. You had wanted to do this on your terms, and Shanks had yanked that right out from under your feet, and it left you feeling a little skewed.
"Oh," You say and demure to him, body language softening as you shove away the discomfort, "I'm sorry, Shanks. I didn't know that you planned on coming by."
God, you were already perfect. Shanks grins and shrugs a shoulder, one hand coming up to gently thumb her chin, "Nothing to apologize for, baby. You couldn't have known."
He shifts closer, his scent growing stronger, clinging to you like a second skin from where he touches you, "But I can think of a couple of ways you can make it up to me."
You flush, and you can't stop how your body responds to the alpha. Despite knowing that this redhead was incredibly dangerous and a shameless crime lord, heat still pooled low in your tummy, making your cheeks flush and your skin prickle with shivers. You squirm under his gaze, teeth dragging over your bottom lip as you peek up at him under your lashes.
"Like what?"
Fuck. Shanks wanted to say that you could just let him bite you now and save the two of you all the trouble of social niceties of dating and getting to know one another, but he wasn't trying to scare you. Shanks wanted you to like him, to feel safe with him, even if that very thought made him laugh silently. Safe and Shanks didn't belong in the same sentence.
"Dinner," Shanks settles on, and cups your cheek, fingers curling around the slope of your jaw in a possessive move, "Have dinner with me. Tonight."