Hi everyone~~
I'm LeaOotori, and you guys can probably tell from my username that I started in the Ouran fandom and who my favorite host is. :) Recently, however, I heard about Hetalia and watched a ton of it and got pretty much obsessed with UKUS! (or USUK, either way).
I love their dynamic and I ship it a lot! For more variety in my fics, I decided it'd be cool if I tried out the Omegaverse AU and that my first Hetalia fic could be one. So here's my first attempt at Alpha-Omega, my first shot at a UKUS fic, and also my first Hetalia fic.
Wow, that's a lot of firsts!
By the way, this fic includes UKE America and SEME England, and human names are used! I hope that doesn't bother you!
If you don't know what an Alpha-Omega AU, there's an explanation below. If you already know what it is, please skip and start reading!
Thanks so much!
~Lea
WARNING: IMPLIED TALKING ABOUT SEX, GAY PEOPLE, AND SOME SMEXY DESCRIPTIONS (NO SEX THO)- PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU ARE BOTHERING BY THAT KIND OF THING! :)
An Omegaverse AU consists of THREE different kinds of people: Alphas, Betas, and Omegas. By nature, each of these types of people has a certain role in reproduction/in society, but in the modern world, these genetic modifications are just an inconvenience to these people. Alphas are the dominant ones, Betas are like us normal humans (lol), and Omegas are the submissives. For more information, please look it up. :)
****In a world where people get butthurt very often, I'd like to say before anyone writes a rude comment that this AU is for fun! Don't flame people who write this AU, I've seen a lot of hate for it! So please keep in mind this is for fun and don't get offended! Thanks!
The worst feeling in the world has to be when you've worked your butt off for something but it goes straight down the drain. It's frustrating, annoying, and plainly put- probably the shittiest feeling on Earth.
It's even worse when everything was ruined because you made one teensy tiny little mistake: one that you want to turn back time to change. That one teensy tiny little mistake just destroys everything that you had worked so hard for. It's absolutely infuriating.
Alfred Jones, America himself, was no stranger to mistakes that changed the course of history, but this one, in particular, hadn't ruined a country- it had ruined his life.
~When It All Goes Down the Drain~
It had been a December day in the brisk country of China when Alfred got off of the plane, cheeks ruddy and smile wider than the horizon itself. Matthew sidled up beside him as they got off onto the landing pad, eyes flickering about the stark gray landscape with muted interest.
"It's cold!" America yelled, voice echoing loudly in the absence of anything but large white buildings. He was dressed as usual, though many layers had been added to his normal attire.
"Eh," The Canadian shrugged, looking about as a set of escorts enveloped the brother countries and led them towards the airport. "Canada is colder." A plane flying overhead overlapped Matthew's quiet voice, leading to Alfred yelling the likes of 'I CAN'T HEAR YOU!' and 'SPEAK LOUDER!' at the absolute top of his lungs, scaring all the people in a near perimeter.
After finally getting giddy and excited Alfred quiet, the brothers managed to enter the airport with less of a spectacle than what was usual, to shy Matthew's relief. "Look! Food!" Alfred squealed, not even resting for a moment before finding a new distraction. He started towards the said food, grabbing Matthew's wrist and trying to drag him towards a Chinese man selling a packaged snack.
"Al!" Matthew was exasperated after dealing with the noisy America for hours in a plane, where he'd be nearly bouncing off the walls, and now, he was cursed to handle him in an open space full of staring, annoyed people. "Al!"
Alfred could barely hear him, instead dropping the Canadian's hand and rushing off to buy snacks. Matthew could do nothing but facepalm and go after him, calling his name all the while. "Al!" Matthew yelled again (well, to him, it was yelling… to others, it was more like a talking voice, of course), already out of breath as he caught up to his brother. "We're gonna be late!"
"Such a worrywart, Mattie!" America laughed with his mouth full. "You only live once! Live it up while you can, bro!" Before the American could fill poor Canada's head with a variety of other phrases that promoted doing possibly stupid things, there came a blessed interruption in the form of a country.
"You seem to be enjoying yourselves a bit too much, I would say." The nearly identical north-American pair looked up simultaneously to be met by the emerald green stare of none other than England himself, accompanied by France, who was busy inspecting his appearance with a pocket mirror.
"The altitude does a number on mes pauvres et beaux cheveux," Francis cooed at his reflection in what looked like pity. "Pauvre de moi!"
"Oh, shut up," The Englishman remarked in turn, only a second away from rolling his eyes.
"Make moi," The Frenchman replied flirtatiously, and Arthur could practically see the lust dripping from his eyes.
"In your dreams, you stupid frog!" Arthur snapped, distancing himself slightly from the fashionable blonde, taking care not to step too close to Albert either.
While the two Europeans had been bickering, Alfred had been turning various shades of red and purple and pink while Matthew had been trying his best to calm the American down. Why? Well, the answer to that question was obvious to everyone but the people it concerned. Simply put, Alfred Jones had the biggest crush in history.
On Arthur.
The first thing that Matthew had thought when Alfred had confessed (not of his free will, of course) was, 'Out of all the countries he could have a crush on, he chose England?'. It was quite the valid question: America and England, while being allies, never stopped bickering about tea and coffee and how to spell 'color' and such- not to mention the fact that Alfred and Arthur were both the most oblivious and tsundere people that Matthew had ever met. It didn't help matters that England was probably the least romantic country ever, while America was no short of a stuttering, blubbering mess around someone that he liked the teensiest bit.
So seeing that Matthew was almost one-hundred percent sure that Alfred was head-over-heels in love with the Englishman, the Canadian was left with a lot of covering-up to due to protect his brother's super-sized hero complex. "I- I need to go to the bathroom!" Matthew exclaimed, starting to sweat under pressure.
"Would you like me to come with you, ma douce?" Francis practically purred, eyes travelling up the Canadian's skinny jeans with a questionable expression.
"No, no, I'm fine," Matthew needed to get Alfred out of the room before he combusted. "Al will come with me, right Al?" The poor American was trying his best to open his mouth and say Yes! Get me out of here! but Arthur's eyes surveyed him, pinning the hamburger-loving blonde effectively in place as he fought to swallow. "Come on then," Matthew laughed nervously. "We'll meet you two at the limo out front."
The British man looked annoyed. "We're already horribly late. Can you not wait?"
"No, I'm so sorry, Arthur! We'll be quick! I promise!" Matthew blurted the entire thing in one breath, grabbing his brother's hand as he took off running towards the restrooms, attracting the attention of confused and annoyed people all around them for the second time in that day as he shoved past luggage and animals and people alike, dragging America with him.
A minute later, he was leaning against the wall of the one-person bathroom, breathing like he'd run a marathon, while Alfred dunked his face in cold water.
"Al," Matthew sighed softly. "I thought you were over the freezing-up-and-stuttering phase."
Alfred gasped as the icy water stung his already-cold face. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he turned around, wearing a somber expression- one that wasn't common on the American. His blonde bangs stuck to his face as he wiping down his glasses, fiddling with them in his hands. "I thought I was too," he said, voice so low it was almost a whisper. Again, out of character, and scaring the Canadian thoroughly. "It's just… been so long since I saw him, and I wasn't expecting him and… his eyes are just so… green."
Matthew just felt plain bad now. "I'm so sorry, Al," He moved to place a hand on his brother's shoulder. Albert sighed, before straightening up and smiling so widely that Matt couldn't help but wonder if it hurt.
"Nothing hurts the hero!" He declared, hands on his hips. "I'm one-hundred percent fine-"
There came a sudden slamming at the door, following with a loudly shouted request that seemed to be in Chinese. "We better go," Matthew realized. "I think we spent a while in here." America nodded with a grin, taking in a small breath as he pulled open the door to be met by a grumpy looking chinese man who glared as his eyes flickered from Alfred to Matthew, and then to the sign next to the door saying that the bathroom was for 'single persons' before shoving past both of them, mumbling curses under his breath.
With no further ado, Alfred and Matthew took off, reaching the front of the airport in record time. After slipping through the revolving doors, they located the limo with limited difficulty (after all, there was a sign with their names on it being held by the chauffeur as he stood in front of the vehicle) and clambered in, both puffing little mini clouds into the nippy air.
"How does it take so bloody long to take a shit?" Arthur demanded, obviously ticked off.
"Oh, mon amour, they are boys. Let them have their fun, amoureux." Francis's voice seemed like it was made of honey, convincing and manipulative as he sidled in next to Matthew, trying to inconspicuously slip his arm around the Canadian before he was batted away by the protective American beside him. The french blonde executed his practiced, flawless pout before dropping his rejected arm to his side.
Arthur gave Francis an expression of complete and utter disdain before crossing one leg over another and resorting to looking out the window boredly.
"Well, uh…" Alfred was at a loss for words, but he wanted to talk to Arthur. A lot. "I had the best burger the other day," he started cluelessly.
It was all Matthew could do not to drive his head into the wall. How he can be so clueless?
"Mon amour," Francis interjected smoothly. "Why don't toi tell us about your last femme instead of your last hamburger?"
Arthur's eyes drifted up at the Frenchman's words. "That's obviously your favorite subject," he remarked lazily, just wanting to say something.
"Non, I love les hommes too, cher England." The blonde ran a hand through his long, golden locks as he licked his lips. "Antonio is trés bien."
"I do not need the details on your conquests, especially ones on Antonio." Arthur seemed reluctant to bring up the topic, despite his usual inclination to simply distance himself from a conversation he didn't like.
"Oh, mais he's the most delightfully adorable omega!" France cooed, fanning himself. "You should have seen him! Trés cute!"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "I got another comic book last week-" Alfred started 'innocently', not wanting to participate in this certain conversation, but he was too easily ignored by the European pair as they bickered about whether Spain was cute or not.
"Say, maybe we should talk about something else?" Matthew suggested quietly.
His words caught Francis's attention, but he took no notice of them- just the speaker. "Oui, Mathieu," his lips quirked up into a evil smile. "Who's the last person who bedded you?"
Matthew, despite his quiet demeanor, was done for today. Completely and utterly done. After dealing with his hyper brother and then his love-struck brother, and now two snarky europeans during a restricted limo ride, he was about ready to yell. Softly. "Bedded me?" Matt retorted, eyes darting to the French Alpha's blue ones, watching as they reflected utter confusion.
"You're not an omega, Mathieu?" Francis was completely bewildered, eyebrows scrunched up as he shared a surprised look with Arthur.
"Are you sure, love?" Arthur asked, suddenly interested in the conversation.
"Of course I'm sure." Matthew spat, turning to his brother with an exasperated expression.
"He's a beta, you wanker." Arthur said to Francis. "It took you so long to notice."
"I beg your pardon?" The Canadian piped up, trying to ignore his building annoyance. "Who said I was a beta?"
Francis and Arthur turned to Matthew with identical open-mouthed expressions. "You're an Alpha?" Arthur gasped, eyes darting about Matthew as if simply looking at the Canadian would tell him the words were a lie.
"Why does nobody listen to me?" Matthew sighed. "This has to be the hundredth time I've said it."
"Did you know this, Amérique?" Francis exclaimed, holding a hand over his heart dramatically as if this made his entire life a lie.
Alfred shrugged. "Yeah, man."
"And you didn't tell moi?" Francis looked like he was about to have a seizure, buckling over as his eyes glazed over, probably contemplating his entire existence.
"Sorry bro," Alfred sighed, while Arthur tried to revive poor France from his nearing death from shock.
~When It All Goes Down the Drain~
It was almost half an hour before the Europeans had gotten over their revelation about the sexual drive of Canada.
"Well, that was… unexpected, to say the very least." It was the Englishman who'd finally broken the thick silence that surrounded the group.
"Oui." Francis agreed in a quiet voice, for once not using the quiet to make a move on Matthew.
Matthew almost felt sorry for France- after all, the long-haired blonde had been after for Matthew for quite a while now, but Matthew had figured that the Frenchman knew about the Canadian being an Alpha, contrary to what the other countries through of him. It seemed that Francis had taken the news a lot harder than what Matthew had expected. Guilt had taken root inside the pit of the Canadian's stomach. I'll do something later to make him feel better, he resolved. It'll have to do.
"Sorry, Francis." Matthew offered, to be met with a weak smile.
"Amérique," France started instead. "Tell us about your last conquest. It will make moi feel better, peut-être?"
"Um," Alfred said, at a loss for words. "She was… a really pretty blonde omega." He said finally, quoting a line from a movie that he had watched the other weekend. "The prettiest baby blues." The lines were taken from a man in a bar discussing his last one-night stand, and they were out of character for Alfred, he knew, especially since they came out of his mouth sounding almost like a question.
And of course Arthur noticed. "Those words don't sound like you, love." He said, sounding almost distracted.
Alfred drew a blank, mouth working in the air. "He's just-" Matthew was cut off by America blurting out a sentence that none of the three countries had seen coming.
"Being in love changes everything!"
Matthew's eyes widened. His brother was not ready to confess! He'd barely even confronted his own feelings towards England, and he was confessing already? Everyone seemed frozen for a second before Francis's lips twisted into a creepy smile.
"You fell in amour with her?" He was practically purring, trying to drag the secret out of poor Alfred, who sat there, stunned and frozen.
Matthew realized with an involuntary sigh the European pair had interpreted Alfred's statement as him being in love with the imaginary blue-eyed blonde he'd slept with- not Arthur. Thankful for that small grace, he slipped back into the conversation. "I think we're here," he said, grabbing his brother's arm with an awkward smile as the limo rolled to a stop. "Let's go." He practically kicked the door open, hitting the poor chauffeur in the process. "Come on, Al." He shoved the paralyzed American out of the door, smiling broadly at Francis and Arthur. "Bye! See you guys tomorrow, eh?"
And with that, the North American brothers were off, getting into the hotel as quickly as possible, attempting to leave the europeans as far behind as humanely feasible, dragging their luggage behind them in a feverish frenzy.
It wasn't until the twins reached their hotel room that they both let out a collective breath of relief, America collapsing onto his bed.
"That was close," Matthew sighed, slumping into his chair.
"I was terrified." The Canadian was once again surprised by Alfred's behavior. It wasn't usual for the 'hero' to admit an unmanly emotion like fear, after all.
"It's okay," Matt reassured his twin. "They think you fell in love with that girl. I'm one-hundred percent sure they didn't realize that you like Arth-"
"No, not that."
Canada looked up at his brother quizzically. "What?"
"I was more scared about… about… that." Alfred's voice had faded in what seemed like shame.
"Oh." Matthew could say nothing more.
"Thank god they didn't find out." Alfred sat up, dragging a hand down his face and knocking his glasses askew. "Nobody can know that I'm an omega."
Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed that! Please favorite, follow, and LEAVE REVIEWS! I planned out the entire story and wrote the next 1 1/2 chapters, but if the story doesn't get much interest, I might take it down, due to my limited time. :( So please review and tell me what you think! Feel free to tell me about all of my mistakes, in writing and characterization alike. Most of my knowledge comes from wikis and fanfictions, being a new Hetalia fan, so I'm open to criticism in order to get better at writing these fics. :)
Feel free to PM me as well!
Hopefully, I'll be updating anywhere from now to two weeks later, so please follow!
Thanks guys,
~LeaOotori