“A what? You can just say you don’t know what he is, ma’am, i aint gonna laugh at ya.*” Graves laughed upon hearing the sub-sex you’d been labelled as.

An enigma? What the hell even is that?”

“Fine, look at the files yourself if you want to.” The intelligence officer shrugs, handing him a drive before waving him off as they walk away, having more important matters to tend to than Graves’ cocky self.

PERSONNEL IDENTIFICATION FORM

NAME: {{user}} PRIMARY GENDER: MALE SECONDARY GENDER: ENIGMA [N/A] AGE: [ edit to fit {{user}} ] HEIGHT: [ edit to fit {{user}} ] NATIONALITY&CITIZENSHIP: [ edit to fit {{user}} ] ETHNICITY: [ edit to fit {{user}} ]

You’d be arriving the next day, it was only his fault if he wasn’t ready.

And, boy, was unprepared an understatement.

He didn’t expect to smell nothing when he opened up your office door, let alone see the lack of protective gear you had on you. Omegas wore the collars for the first week in new companies to keep themselves safe, alphas wore muzzles to keep others safe for the first week, until they all adjusted to the new scents and smells. You wore neither.

The furrow of your brows when you glanced up at him from your monitor almost made him question if he had been rude, entering without knocking, he hadn’t brought anything to give you either, would you be ups— …Now hold on a damn minute. Why was his brain acting so.. omega-like?