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kamaluhkhan · 4 months ago

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WE DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE, MY LOVE.

pairing: vi x firelight!reader word count: 2k summary: after years of thinking her dead, ekko brings vi to the firelight base. you don't really know how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. warnings: arcane level angst + lesbian yearning. reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. reader has tattoos and a star-shaped birthmark behind her ear (y'all know vi loves a nickname and i thought 'stargirl' was v cute so i had to make it work). fic gets slightly suggestive at the end ;) author's note: happy act iii release day!!! i wrote this instead of working on my thesis oops. in my defense, vi has sparked something in me that i simply cannot ignore. i'm also working on a werewolf! pitfighter!vi x vampire slayer!reader fic (set in the same universe, just with a slight twist) sooo that might be done before part 2 of this fic (which is where the smut happens hehe). anyways, thank you for reading!

inspired by that quote: "i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we've suffered enough" by nikka ursula

even after all these years, vi is still the first one to notice you.

her eyes widen as she hesitates to pull away from ekko, but you clear your throat to catch both of their attentions.

“i thought we were gonna question her together.”

ekko wipes a stray tear from his cheek and stands up a little straighter.

“you were taking too long,” he shrugs. “don’t worry — she’s clean.”

you trust ekko’s judgement, but you still can’t reckon with the fact that vi is alive. you’d splashed cold water on your face just before to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“i don’t know.” you walk closer until you’re standing arms length from vi. “the vi i knew wouldn’t be caught dead with a topsider, let alone an enforcer.”

you examine her carefully, and you imagine she’s doing the same to you. vi looks more grown up — stronger and sharper. you’d spent so much time in limbo, not knowing if she were alive or dead. you aren’t sure how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for.

“i guess the shoddy undercut is a pretty clear give away,” you deadpan.

vi quirks an eyebrow at you. “shoddy, huh? you know, your tattoos look like they were drawn by blindfolded children.”

she smiles, all bright and toothy. the scar on her upper lip stretches, achingly familiar, and you decide there’s nothing you want to do more than to bring her into your arms, to bring her closer, so you do.

her hair tickles your cheek as you whisper:

“i did those tattoos myself.”

vi chuckles, and you feel it vibrate across her body to yours.

“i know. they’re beautiful.” her index finger traces the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear; you shiver. “i was just messing with you, stargirl.”

vi was the only one who ever called you that, said you made her life brighter or some other sweet nothing that would effortlessly fall from her mouth.

gods, she was the first one who even noticed that birthmark on your skin.

“i was messing with you, too. the hair — you look hot.”

you feel her heart beating faster against your chest as she smiles into your shoulder.

she’s here.

she’s not some ghost from your past.

she’s really here.

you’re so overwhelmed by how solid she is against you that you start to pull away, but vi catches your hand before you can fully untangle yourself from her.

“that’s all i get?” she wonders, licking her lips.

you’re tempted, very tempted, to give her more. maybe you would have, until ekko clears his throat behind you.

“should i….give y’all a moment?” ekko asks. “i’ll go get the piltie.”

you then remember who vi came here with; she might not be working for silco, but you stand by your suspicions at her bringing a topsider to the lanes.

you slip your hand from hers. you roll your shoulders back as if that would really shake away the hold she’s always had on you.

time has passed. things have changed. neither of you are kids anymore, and you don't have the luxury of indulging in a frivolous crush.

“it's fine, e. let’s show them around.”

“still a night owl, i see.”

vi finds you perched on one of the trees highest branches, surrounded by firelights as you sketch something. you close your sketchbook instantly and place it on the other side of you when vi sits down.

“thought you’d be in bed with that enforcer of yours.”

“her name’s caitlyn.”

“caitlyn,” you scoff, shaking your head.

the bitterness you try to hide is all too transparent to vi, who has to bite back a laugh at your pettiness.

“you say her name like you’re gonna hex her. never pegged you as a jealous ex.”

“technically, we never broke up,” you point out.

a firelight lands on your hand, and you let it crawl up the lines etched on your skin.

“if that’s the case, i owe you an apology for cheating on you when i was in prison.”

you frown, but say nothing, your eyes following that same firelight as it illuminates your tattoos.

“don’t worry, i’m kidding!” vi pauses. “mostly.”

the firelight flies away, and you huff out an annoyed breath.

“whatever. i don’t care who you’ve fucked, or who you’re fucking. and, you don’t owe me anything. it’s not like we’re anything to each other, anymore.”

vi sucks in a sharp breath — she wouldn’t have expected such harsh words from you.

“is that why you can’t even look at me?” she finally asks.

you’d been strictly business since you first reunited hours ago. you expertly distanced yourself from vi all throughout the tour of the firelights’ base, and throughout dinner, too.

where’s the girl she’d spend hours goofing around with, who always had a witty response to her sarcastic remarks, who smiled at her in such a way that made her chest glow? where’s the girl who brightened vi’s life when it seemed like the darkness would never leave?

“i don’t know,” you admit. “part of me still can’t believe you’re alive. i know that i should be happy that you are, but i keep thinking about everything i could have done to protect you, and powder —”

“hey. it’s my job to worry about everyone, remember?”

“you weren’t here.”

“i am now.”

she gently moves your chin so that you face her, so that you can see that she’s not going anywhere, at least for tonight.

which is probably more time than either of you thought you’d ever have together again.

vi notices how your eyes flick down to her lips and back up, and she feels something spark in her chest. but then, you shake your head as though trying to wake up from a dream and turn away once more.

“that enforcer of yours —”

“she’s not my —”

“whoever she is, she talked about how we all need to heal. i just keep thinking about what you’ve been through, what we’ve all been through…. how it never really stops. healing would be nice, but it’s hard when you have to keep fighting every day. you remember what ekko said, about why we chose this place?”

of course, she remembers.

“that if even a seed can survive down here, maybe we could, too.”

“we. who’s ‘we,’ vi?” you laugh, but there’s no joy behind it. “we’ve gotten used to surviving without each other. maybe it was meant to be that way.”

“that’s not fair.”

“a lot of things aren’t fair.” you gesture around at the base. “this — this community — took blood, sweat, and tears to build and i just know how easy it would be for someone to destroy it all. which is why we fight, obviously, to protect all this and each other, but i’m scared that we can only do so for so long before we burn out.”

you press your knees to your chest and curl into yourself. vi notices then — the slump of your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and just how deeply exhausted you must feel, down to your bones.

you let out a shuddery breath. “is it even all worth it?”

vi swallows the tears building in her throat. you had always been the hopeful one, and it makes vi’s chest ache to think about what you must have endured to lose the brightness that had been woven into your being.

that's part of what got her through these past few years, and there's no way she's going to let it fade.

“i....i think so,” vi starts, trying to find it within her to be inspirational. “maybe it'll make a difference in the long run, even if we don’t see that now. maybe someone, someday in the future, will be able to not just survive, but live in a better world.”

you raise an eyebrow at her, and vi swears there's a slight smile on your face.

"what?" she asks, her cheeks heating up.

"i'm just...surprised. how is it possible that prison made you less cynical?”

there's a glimmer to your eyes that wasn't there before, something playful, and vi decides to lean into it.

"oh, it wasn't prison," vi says, nudging her shoulder against hers. "see, i ran into this pretty girl from my past and she's this totally badass freedom fighter now, so i think there's some hope in the world."

you snort. "good to know you're still an unbearable flirt."

"i thought you loved that about me."

you laugh, a sparkling sound that vi wishes she could carry with her wherever she goes. it’s contagious, too, and vi finds herself giggling along with you. when it dies down, you rest your head on her shoulder, something you did even back when you were only friends.

“i missed you,” she admits.

“yeah?” your voice is softer than a whisper.

you lift your head and vi cradles your face in her hands.

vi nods. “so fucking much, and i want to prove it. if you’ll let me. please.”

“vi,” you exhale. she’s so close now that she can feel you breathing against her lips. “i can’t. you’re with that enforcer.”

“we’re not together,” vi assures, bumping her nose against yours.

she leans in ever so closely to kiss you, but you move away.

“you’re still with her, though, and you’re leaving in the morning,” you continue. “things are already so….complicated. i just don’t think we should start something we won’t be able to finish.”

with nothing more to say, you gather your sketchbook and pencils. vi’s sure that you’re not going to bed, just off to nestle into another hiding spot for the night, away from her.

maybe you’re still putting up a cold front, protecting yourself because that’s how you've been surviving in this world where the risk of losing everything lingers, and only gets heavier as you grow older.

but, gods, vi really has missed you, the you she remembers so vividly, the you that shone through just moments ago. she knows that glowing heart of yours is hardened by layers of ice, and she’s determined to make them all melt away.

so, vi gets up, heart beating in her throat, and calls after you:

“haven’t we already?”

you stop in your tracks. you slowly turn around to back at her.

a moment passes, maybe more. the two of you suspended in time. your eyes are telling her a million different things – you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re tempted, you’re tired – and all vi can do is unsuccessfully blink back more tears because it’s true, how your story together never got the happy ending you deserved.

“please, y/n. if this is our second chance, even just for a night —”

she’s cut off by you crashing your lips against hers.

the two of you were young, really, just girls when you first kissed. it was awkward and messy and though it ignited something in the pit of vi’s stomach, it was nothing compared to this.

she lets you guide her as you please, lets you press your warm body against hers against the trunk of the tree. she lets your lips mold into hers until her lungs are burning.

your chest is heaving as you pull away slightly; vi bites back a whine, feeling empty. but air isn’t what she needs, she’s sure of it. what she really needs is more of you.

you study her like a work of art, like you're committing her to memory in case she slips away. your thumb wipes away a fallen tear, across the tattoo on her cheek.

fuck, no one's held vi this tenderly since, well, you.

“you’re so beautiful.”

vi blushes, becoming increasingly flustered. she'd wanted to make this about you, take care of you in all the ways she'd imagined, but the way you're looking at her, touching her....she's not a religious person, but vi thinks she might have stumbled into her own, personal heaven, with you having some divine hold on her, soft and bright and passionate.

you're kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone when you repeat: "you're so fucking beautiful."

“yeah, i know. they should build statues of me,” she breathes, closing her eyes and trying to keep upright on weak knees. she squeezes your hips in an attempt to keep herself steady.

you’re the only person vi can recall calling her beautiful.

sexy? oh, yeah. charming? definitely. hot? often.

no one else calls her beautiful, though, let alone makes her feel like it the way you do.

“bad at flirting and full of yourself," you tease. "some things really don't change."

by now your lips are travelling lower, and vi doesn't want to miss a second watching you have your way with her. when her eyes flutter open, vi gets a glimpse of something over your shoulder.

“hm, i guess drawings are a good place to start.”

she gestures with her chin, which she instantly regrets as you pull away to follow her gaze, eyes landing on the sketches of her from your fallen sketchbook.

“you weren’t supposed to see those,” you groan. "they're personal...."

it's cute, how flustered you get after making vi all hot and bothered.

vi smirks. "personal, huh? had some fun picturing me when i was gone? missed me so much you had to draw me back to life?"

"well, no - wait, yes, obviously, i missed you, but --"

vi cuts you off with a searing kiss.

she tugs on one of your belt loops to bring you closer to her. vi presses her thigh between your legs, relishing in how your mouth opens in a perfect gasp. vi takes the opportunity to bite your bottom lip and you whimper.

“don't be embarrassed, baby," vi mumbles against your mouth, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "you know i missed you, too. 'cept i'm not talented like you, so my creative imagination had to carry me through some long nights."

“is that so….” your hand slips underneath her tank top, and you manage to pull a groan from vi by scratching your nails against her stomach. “maybe you can clue me in to what, exactly, you’ve imagined.”

vi grins triumphantly. she places a kiss on your birthmark before whispering in your ear:

“sure thing, stargirl.”

#vi x reader #arcane x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi arcane #arcane #vi #vi league of legends #saf writes #arcane season 2

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jenniferspet · 5 months ago

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TW DUB-CON, KNOTTING, PASSING OUT and BULLYING

Werewolf Bully x Shy Human Nerd

In the quiet corridors of the local library, a young woman named Y/N worked tirelessly to organize the stacks of books. She had always found solace in the gentle rustle of pages and the smell of aged paper, a stark contrast to the chaotic world outside. Her glasses slid down her nose as she bent over, her hair cascading in waves around her shoulders. Y/N's eyes darted from title to title, a silent pattern of knowledge playing in her mind.

One book, however, caught her eye—a worn leather-bound tome titled "Lycanthropy and the Modern World." It was a subject that had always intrigued her, but she had never dared to delve into it. With trembling hands, she pulled it from the shelf and sat at the nearest table, the book feeling surprisingly warm against her skin. As she began to read, she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing through the library.

The footsteps grew closer, and she recognized the heavy, deliberate tread as belonging to Grey, the school's resident werewolf and notorious bully. He sauntered down the aisle, his eyes scanning the rows of books before settling on her. A cruel smile played across his lips as he approached. "Whatcha reading, nerd?" he sneered, snatching the book from her grasp. He flipped through the pages, his eyes widening at the content. "Oooh, a book about furry little monsters like me," he said with mock fascination.

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. He held the book up, showing the illustrations of werewolves mid-transformation. The other students who had been quietly studying in the library began to gather around, drawn by the sudden tension.

"You know," Grey said, leaning in closer. "I bet you've got some wild fantasies about us beasts, don't you?" His breath was hot on her face, and she could smell the faint scent of his inner animal—a scent that was both terrifying and oddly alluring. "You want to know what it's like, don't you?" His eyes gleamed with a mischief that sent a shiver down her spine.

The crowd of students snickered, and Y/N felt her cheeks burn with humiliation. She tried to stand, to grab the book back, but Grey was too quick. He held it high above his head, just out of reach. "Come on," he taunted, "aren't you curious?" His voice grew softer, a low growl rumbling beneath the words. The other students took a step back, sensing the shift in his demeanor.

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. "I—I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, her voice shaking. But Grey's smile only grew wider, his teeth sharp and gleaming in the harsh library lights. "Oh, I think you do," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. "I can smell it on you." He leaned in closer, his nose almost touching her cheek. "You're scared, but you're also... excited."

The snickers from the surrounding students grew louder, and Y/N felt her face burn with shame. She knew that Grey could detect the scent of fear and arousal, and she was both terrified and infatuated by the power he held over her. "P-please," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din. "Stop." But Grey was relentless. He tossed the book onto the table, letting it fall open to a particularly graphic illustration. "Look at this," he said, pointing at the drawing of a werewolf mounting a human. "Is this what you think about when you're all alone?"

The library, once a sanctuary of silence, was now filled with the sound of Grey's taunts and the cruel laughter of her peers. She desperately wished for the floor to swallow her whole, but instead, she found herself trapped in his gaze. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "You want me to show you, don't you?" His voice was low and seductive, a stark contrast to the harshness of his earlier words. "You want to know what it's like to have a real beast claim you."

The words were like a slap in the face, and Y/N's eyes snapped up to meet his, filled with a mix of anger and humiliation. "Please, stop," she begged, her voice trembling. But Grey wasn't in the mood to listen. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet, the book falling to the ground with a thud. His grip was firm, his skin hot against hers. The room spun as she tried to pull away, but his strength was unyielding.

With a sudden twist, he let go, sending her stumbling backward. She reached out, trying to catch herself, but her arms flailed in the air as she lost her balance. The impact with the cold, hard ground was jarring, and she let out a gasp of pain. The laughter grew around her, a cacophony of cruel mirth that seemed to echo off the bookshelves. She felt the tears sting at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to give Grey the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Her gaze fell on the open book, and she saw her opening—a brief moment of distraction in Grey's taunts as he watched her fall. In a flash of desperation, she scrambled to her feet, grabbing her glasses from the floor where they had fallen. Without a second glance at her abandoned bag and the scattered contents, she bolted toward the exit. The heavy library door swung open with a groan, and she dashed into the fading sunlight, her heart racing in her chest.

The cool evening breeze kissed her flushed cheeks as she sprinted down the cobblestone path, the sound of her sneakers echoing through the deserted streets. The laughter and the smell of the library faded behind her, replaced by the scent of earth and the promise of freedom. Her chest heaved with every breath, and she could feel the panic start to subside with each step she put between herself and the nightmare she'd left behind.

Y/N didn't dare look back, fearing that Grey would be right there, chasing her with his monstrous form. She had heard the whispers of his transformation, the horror stories of his unbridled rage. But she had never seen it herself, not in person. The thought of his powerful, animalistic body bearing down on her made her stomach clench with a mix of fear and unwelcome arousal.

Her feet carried her to the safety of the town square, where the fountain's gentle spray provided a sense of peace amidst the chaos in her mind. She collapsed onto the edge, her chest heaving. The cool stone felt like ice against her burning skin, grounding her in reality. The world around her was a blur, a cacophony of sounds and lights that seemed so far removed from the quiet library she had just escaped.

As she sat there, trying to catch her breath, she felt a strange tug deep within her. It was as if the very air around her was thickening, weighing her down with an inexplicable heaviness. A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Grey standing before her, the corners of his mouth lifted in a predatory smile.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Not until I've had my fun with you."

Y/N's eyes widened with horror as she took in the sight of him. His pupils had dilated, the irises swirling with an eerie amber light. His posture had changed, shoulders broader and hunched, his muscles tensing beneath his school jacket. She knew what was coming, and she didn't have the strength to fight him.

"Grey, please," she whimpered, her voice cracking. "Not here."

But he was in no mood for mercy. With a swift movement, he bent down and scooped her up in his arms, his strength surprisingly gentle despite the malicious glint in his eyes. She felt her body go limp with resignation as he carried her to a sleek, black car parked at the edge of the square. The engine purred to life as he opened the door, tossing her inside without ceremony. The cool leather seat was a stark contrast to the warmth of his body, and she shivered as he slammed the door shut.

Her heart raced as he climbed into the driver's seat, the sound of his door echoing in the quiet night like a gunshot. The interior of the car was filled with the scent of his cologne, something musky and primal that seemed to cling to the air. He turned to her, his eyes still glowing with that unnerving amber light. "You're mine," he growled, starting the engine. "And I'll show you what it truly means to be with a werewolf."

The car sped through the deserted streets, the world outside a blur of lights and shadows. Y/N felt a strange mix of dread and anticipation building in her stomach, her body responding to the situation in a way she had never expected. The anticipation grew with every mile they drove away from the safety of the town, her heart pounding in time with the rhythm of the car's engine.

When they reached the edge of the forest, Grey pulled the car to a halt, the headlights piercing through the dense foliage. He turned to her, his features twisted into a snarl. "Get out," he barked, and she complied, her legs shaking as she stumbled out of the car. The moon had risen high in the sky, casting a silvery light over the clearing, illuminating Grey's form as he began to strip off his shirt.

Y/N's eyes were wide with fear, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his body. His muscles rippled and stretched, bones popping and reshaping as he transformed before her very eyes. His limbs elongating into powerful paws. His teeth grew sharp, and his eyes burned with a fierce, animal hunger.

The transformation was both terrifying and mesmerizing. She had read about it in her books, but the reality was so much more intense than any description could ever capture. The car door slammed shut, and she jumped, the sound jolting her out of her trance. Grey was fully shifted now, his monstrous form towering over her, the embodiment of every nightmare she had ever had.

He took a step forward, his paws thudding on the soft earth, and she took a step back, her eyes never leaving his. The fear in her chest grew, a heavy weight that threatened to crush her. "P-please," she stuttered again, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Don't do this.”

But the beast that was Grey didn't listen to her pleas. His eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and malice as he stalked closer, his nose flaring to take in her scent. She could see the raw hunger in his gaze, and she knew that she was prey in the most primal sense of the word.

The forest around them was eerily silent, as if all the creatures knew to stay clear of the predator in their midst. Y/N's back hit a tree, the rough bark digging into her skin as she realized she had nowhere left to run. She looked up at the towering werewolf, her breaths coming in short gasps. The fear was overwhelming, but so was the heat pooling between her legs, a traitorous response to the primal power that stood before her.

Grey's nose twitched as he inhaled her scent, his eyes never leaving hers. He knew she was afraid, but the smell of her arousal was unmistakable. It fueled his own desire, his animal instincts taking over. He took another step closer, his fur brushing against her thighs. His tail swished back and forth, a silent promise of the torment to come.

Her breath hitched, and she slammed her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear. But the warmth of his breath against her neck was undeniable, his teeth grazing her skin as he leaned in, his fur tickling her cheek. "You smell so sweet," he murmured, his voice a low, animalistic rumble. His tongue darted out, licking a path up her throat, and she shivered despite the fear.

Y/N's mind raced as his paws began to rove over her body, his claws gently scraping against the fabric of her shirt. The heat of his touch was like a brand, searing through her clothes and setting her alight with a need she didn't understand. "No," she whispered, her voice shaking. "This isn't what I want."

But Grey wasn't listening. He could smell the lie in her words, the sweet scent of her arousal betraying her. His grin grew wider, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. He knew exactly how to play this game. He lowered his head, his nose nudging her thighs apart. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You can't lie to a werewolf, little girl."

Y/N's eyes shot open in shock and horror as she felt Grey's hot breath against her skin. She tried to push him away, but his paws held her in place, his strength unyielding. He nuzzled closer, his tongue tracing a wet line up the inside of her thigh, and she gasped, her body responding despite her fear. "No," she said again, her voice shaking, but the protest was weaker this time.

Grey's grin grew wider, and he let out a low, guttural chuckle. He could sense the lie in her voice, the way her body was betraying her. He took her silence as an invitation, his tongue flicking out to tease her through the fabric of her panties. She shivered, her hands balling into fists at her sides, torn between pushing him away and giving in to the strange thrill that was building within her.

With a swift move, he ripped her skirt off, the sound of the fabric tearing echoing through the quiet forest. He was unbothered by the buttons and zipper, his paws moving with surprising dexterity. Her eyes went wide with shock, and she tried to struggle, but his grip was like iron. He lowered his face to her exposed center, his tongue swiping over the damp material, tasting the sweetness that had soaked through. Her breath hitched, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

He could tell she was lying. Her body was singing a siren's song of desire, a symphony of pheromones that called to his primal instincts. He knew she was afraid, but fear was a delicious flavor that only enhanced the thrill of the hunt. His teeth grazed her skin, and she jolted, her hands flying to his shoulders. "Please," she begged, but her voice was thick with need, the word barely a whisper.

Ignoring her protests, he pushed her thighs apart, his snout nudging the fabric of her panties aside. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, a potent blend of fear and lust that made his blood race. He flicked his tongue out, tasting the sweetness that coated her. She moaned softly, the sound music to his ears. He reveled in the power he had over her, the way she trembled beneath his touch.

Y/N's hands flew to his shoulders, not to push him away but to hold onto something as the world spun out of control. His tongue was a wet, warm intrusion against her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She couldn't believe she was letting this happen, couldn't believe she was responding to him like this. But the fear and the thrill were too much to resist. Her legs quivered, and she felt the first stirrings of an orgasm building deep within her.

Grey's teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, his tongue lapping at her folds with a hunger that seemed to grow with every passing second. The fabric of her panties was a flimsy barrier that offered little protection from his eager mouth. Y/N's breath hitched, and she bit down on her lip to keep from screaming. She could feel the eyes of the surrounding forest on her, a silent audience to her humiliation and her unexpected pleasure.

He could smell her fear, but it was the scent of her arousal that truly excited him. His tongue grew more insistent, pushing past the barrier of her underwear to explore the slickness of her pussy. She gripped the bark of the tree behind her, her nails digging into the wood as she felt the first tremors of an unwanted climax begin to build. Her protests had turned into gasps, her body betraying her with every shiver of delight.

With a sudden, brutal yank, Grey tore her panties away, exposing her completely to the cold night air. He growled, his eyes never leaving hers as he took in the sight of her bare flesh. His paws, now tipped with deadly claws, traced up her thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice now a deep, animalistic rumble.

He didn't give her a chance to protest again. With one swift movement, he shoved two of his claws into her, the sharpness of the intrusion making her gasp in shock and pain. The world around them faded into a blur of agony and pleasure as he began to pump them in and out, each stroke hitting a spot within her that made her vision swim. Y/N's nails dug into the bark of the tree, her legs shaking with the effort to keep herself upright.

Grey's snout nudged her thighs further apart, and he lowered his head, his tongue delving into her, lapping at her like a starved beast. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that she had never experienced before. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—fear, anger, and an undeniable, traitorous desire that grew stronger with every stroke of his tongue.

Her body responded to his ministrations despite her will, and she felt her climax building, the tension coiling tightly within her. She tried to fight it, to push the feelings away, but it was like trying to hold back the tide with a single hand. The pleasure washed over her, a wave that she couldn't resist, and she screamed, the sound lost in the vastness of the forest.

As the last of her orgasm tremored through her, Grey pulled back, his tongue leaving a wet trail on her skin. His eyes gleamed with triumph, and he let out a low growl of satisfaction. He knew he had her now, that she was his to do with as he pleased. With a flick of his head, he indicated the ground before her. "On your hands and knees," he ordered, his voice still thick with his shifted vocal cords.

Y/N's legs felt like jelly, but she complied, the fear and arousal making her body feel like it didn't belong to her. She sank to the damp earth, her hands and knees sinking into the leaves and moss. The coldness of the ground seeped through her clothing, a stark contrast to the heat of her body. She felt his paws on her hips, guiding her, positioning her just right for what was to come. His teeth grazed the small of her back, a gentle reminder of the power he held over her.

With surprising gentleness, Grey began to clean her up, his rough tongue lapping away the evidence of her release. The sensation was oddly comforting, his warmth and care in that moment a stark contrast to the horror of the situation. Y/N couldn't help but lean into his touch, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. It was a brief respite from the fear that had taken over her mind.

But the reprieve was short-lived. He grew impatient, his paws gripping her hips tighter, his teeth nipping at her skin. The pain brought her back to reality with a jolt, and she tensed, her eyes squeezed shut. "P-please," she whimpered again, the word a pitiful sound that seemed to only excite him further.

Grey chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. He knew she was his now, that she would do anything he said. He leaned over her, his hot breath on her neck as he whispered, "Beg for it, little human." The words were a challenge, a demand that sent a shiver down her spine.

With a snarl, Grey's paws pushed her down onto the damp leaves, her forehead pressing against the cold earth. The weight of his massive body was a constant reminder of his dominance, his fur brushing against her bare skin, sending goosebumps along her spine. "Beg," he growled again, his voice a dark, seductive promise of pain and pleasure. Y/N's throat tightened, and she swallowed the lump that had formed there.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she whispered, "P-please, Grey." It was the closest she could come to begging, her pride shattered by the overwhelming power he held over her. He seemed to understand, his paws shifting to stroke her hair gently, a strange tenderness that didn't belong in this twisted moment. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice almost affectionate.

The sound of his zipper was like a gunshot in the quiet of the woods, and Y/N felt her heart race even faster. His cock, thick and engorged, nudged against her, and she couldn't help the involuntary whine that escaped her. The tip was wet with precum, and she could feel it smear against her thigh as he positioned himself. "This is what you wanted," he said, his breath hot against her ear. "This is what you've been dreaming about."

The pressure grew as he pushed into her, slow and inexorable, stretching her more than she ever thought possible. The pain was intense, and she bit down on her lip to keep from screaming. But through the pain, there was something else—a spark of something that felt almost like pleasure. It was as if her body was trying to convince her that this was what she needed, what she had been searching for all along.

Grey's thrusts grew stronger, the slickness of her own arousal mixing with the pre-cum that coated his shaft, making it easier for him to slide in and out of her. She felt the ground shake beneath them with every movement, his powerful hips driving into her with a ferocity that was inhuman. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to hate him for it. The fear had given way to a strange, twisted fascination, her mind reeling with the reality of being claimed by a creature of legend.

With every thrust, she could feel her body stretching, accommodating his monstrous girth. The pain began to dull into something almost bearable, replaced by a deep, pulsing ache that seemed to resonate through her very core. And as he pushed deeper, she felt something else—a warmth spreading through her, a feeling of belonging that was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. Her own hips began to rock back against him, a silent plea for more.

Grey's breathing grew ragged, his paws digging into her hips as he picked up the pace. His teeth grazed her neck, the pressure just shy of breaking the skin. She could feel the power of his body, the unbridled strength that was now focused solely on her pleasure and his own. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she let out a soft moan, the sound lost in the symphony of the night.

"You're a pathetic little whore, aren't you?" He growled, his voice thick with lust. "Begging for it from the monster you fear." The words were like a knife to her soul, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded, arching back into him, her hips pushing back to meet every thrust. The pain had turned into a dull throb, a background to the pleasure that was rapidly building within her.

"You're just a slut for a good time," he continued, his claws digging into her hips as he slammed into her. "Look at you, taking it like you've been waiting for this all along." His words were cruel, designed to cut deep, but she found a strange solace in the harshness of his voice. It was a reminder of who she was in this moment—his prey, his conquest. And yet, she couldn't help but crave more, her body moving in sync with his, her walls tightening around his cock.

With a vicious snarl, Grey pulled out of her, the sudden emptiness making her cry out. Before she could process what was happening, he had flipped her onto her back, his fur-covered hands tearing at her shirt. The fabric gave way easily, the buttons popping off and scattering into the leaves. He paused for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of her bare breasts, the pale mounds quivering in the moonlight.

With a wicked grin, his claws traced gentle circles around her nipples, the sharpness of his nails a constant reminder of the violence lurking just beneath the surface. Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head, a soft moan escaping her as she felt her body respond to his touch, her breasts swelling under his ministrations. His tongue darted out, licking the sensitive skin around her areola, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core.

Grey's paws continued to maul her, his thumbs brushing over her hardened peaks, sending shivers of delight through her body. His teeth grazed her neck, nipping and biting with a precision that was almost tender. "Mine," he murmured again, the word a dark promise that sent a thrill of fear and excitement through her. She could feel his cock, still hard and demanding, pressing against her stomach, leaving a trail of precum that made her skin feel sticky and hot.

He shifted his weight, his paws moving to her hips as he positioned himself at her entrance once more. This time, as he pushed back into her, she could feel the swollen knot at the base of his cock, growing larger with every thrust. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that filled her with a mix of dread and excitement. Her body stretched around him, trying to accommodate the intrusion, her walls clenching and unclenching in a futile attempt to adjust.

Grey's eyes bore into hers, his expression a mix of hunger and triumph. He knew what was coming, and he reveled in the way she squirmed beneath him, her fear and arousal a potent cocktail that only fueled his desire. His thrusts grew more deliberate, his cock pushing deeper with every stroke, the knot inching closer to the tight ring of muscle that guarded her insides.

Y/N felt the pressure build, a sensation that was both terrifying and thrilling. Her mind screamed for her to fight, to push him away, but her body was a traitor, arching into his touch, begging for the completion that she knew would come with the seating of his knot. Her nails dug into the earth beneath her, her legs shaking with the effort to stay open for him.

Grey's eyes narrowed, his teeth bared in a feral smile as he felt her body resist. He leaned down, his breath hot on her skin as he whispered, "Take it, little human. Take all of me." And with that, he thrust forward, the knot breaching her tight entrance, stretching her further than she had ever been. The pain was intense, a white-hot agony that seemed to fill her entire being.

Her body fought the intrusion, her walls clenching around his shaft, trying to push him out. But Grey was relentless, his powerful hips driving into her, inch by inch, until his knot was fully seated within her. The pressure was unbearable, and she screamed, her nails scoring the ground beneath her. She could feel her body stretching to accommodate his monstrous size, her insides burning with the effort.

The pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a fiery agony that seemed to consume her very soul. But amidst the pain, there was something else—a feeling of fullness, a sense of belonging that was as overwhelming as it was unwelcome. His fur-covered body pressed down on hers, his hot breath in her ear as he whispered sweet nothings, his tongue flicking against her earlobe.

Grey began to rock his hips, the knot within her moving in a way that sent waves of pleasure through her body. She gritted her teeth, trying to fight the feeling, but it was like trying to hold back the tide. The pleasure grew with every movement, her body seemingly rewiring itself to crave the painful ecstasy he was forcing upon her. His eyes were wild, the pupils dilated with desire, and she knew she was lost to him.

The knot grew larger, swelling with every beat of his heart, pushing into her with a relentlessness that was both terrifying and exhilarating. She could feel it filling her, the pressure becoming unbearable as it reached the limits of her stretched body. Yet she couldn't stop the soft moans that spilled from her lips, her body betraying her with every twitch and quiver.

Grey's thrusts grew more forceful, the sound of his hips slapping against her ass echoing through the stillness of the forest. The pain had become a living entity within her, a constant throb that was matched only by the growing need for release. His claws dug into her flesh, leaving behind half-moons of blood and bruises that would be a stark reminder of her submission.

Y/N's eyes squeezed shut, and she bit down on her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood. The tears that fell were a mix of agony and a twisted pleasure that she didn't dare acknowledge. Each movement of his knot sent jolts of electricity through her, making her toes curl and her back arch. It was a dance of pain and pleasure, one she never wanted to end despite the horror of it all.

Grey's breath grew ragged, his hips moving faster and harder. She could feel the tension building in him, his muscles tensing as he approached his climax. And as much as she didn't want to, she found herself matching his rhythm, her hips rising to meet his. The pressure was unbearable, a delicious agony that was pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

With a roar that shook the very trees around them, Grey's knot swelled to its full size, locking them together in a carnal embrace. The feeling was indescribable, a mix of pain and pleasure so intense it was like nothing she had ever felt before. Her own climax hit her like a freight train, her body convulsing around his, her eyes rolling back in her head.

But just as the pleasure crested, everything went black. The world around her disappeared, and she was lost in the darkness. The next thing she knew, she was floating, weightless, and disoriented. Her body felt strange, like it didn't quite belong to her anymore, and she couldn't tell where she ended and the world around her began.

When she finally came to, the first thing she felt was the softness of the bed beneath her, the unmistakable scent of pine and fur in her nose. She blinked her eyes open, and the world swam into focus. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the moon that shone in through the open window. The bed she was in was massive, the sheets rough against her skin.

Grey was beside her, his fur ruffled and his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. His hand lay possessively on her thigh, his claws retracted but still visible in the moonlight. Y/N's heart hammered in her chest as she took in the scene, her mind racing with the events of the night.

Her body felt used and abused, every inch of her tender flesh marked by his rough touch. Yet she couldn't ignore the stickiness between her legs, the evidence of their coupling that painted a vivid picture of her own participation. It was a stark contrast to the innocent girl she had been just hours ago, a stark reminder of the creature that now owned her.

Grey's grip on her thigh tightened in his sleep, and she flinched, the pain a sharp reminder of their reality. Carefully, she tried to slide away, but his hand followed her, keeping her in place. The warmth of his body was surprisingly comforting, the heavy weight of his arm draped over her was a bizarre source of security in the aftermath of the horror.

Her mind raced, trying to process what had just happened. She had been claimed by a monster, used, and marked as his territory. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling of contentment that filled her as she lay there, nestled into the crook of his fur-covered body. It was as if some primal part of her had been awakened, some ancient instinct that craved the protection of the man.

With trembling hands, she reached out, her fingertips brushing through the thick fur that covered his chest. His breathing was steady, his body warm and comforting against hers. Y/N allowed herself to sink into him, her body molding to the contours of his muscles, her cheek resting against the firmness of his chest.

For a moment, she closed her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. It was a strange sense of peace amidst the chaos, a tranquility she never thought she would find in the arms of her captor. She felt his chest rise and fall beneath her, his breathing slow and even. She slowly fell back asleep, awaiting what would come in the morning.

#werewolf x reader #werewolf smut #bully x reader #bully x victim #monster smut #monster fucker #monster x reader

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sacr1ficialang3l · 17 days ago

Text

I can handle me a dangerous man˚୨୧⋆｡ (no really I can)

OLDER!DEAN WINCHESTER X YOUNGER!READER (based on this)

SUMMARY: Mid 40s Dean is trying really hard to resist the temptation that you are, but you're making it really hard. 3.7k

WARNINGS smut (MDNI). oral f receiving. age gap. implied penetration.

NOTES: He is here! I am not very used to writing smut, so I tried my best. Can you tell that dilfs telling stories about their life is so hot to me? anyway, this was incredibly self-indulgent. As always, English is not my first language. Enjoy<3

It’s another night of you walking around the bunker in a tiny, white lace dress. Long legs visible, looking even longer because of the slight heel of your boots. There is a necklace resting softly against the hollow of your throat, and your cheeks are rosy, lips glossy and full. Dean doesn’t know if it is makeup or if you simply look like that, but it is killing him.

You started hunting with Dean and Sam a few months ago after they found you trying to kill a whole werewolf den by yourself. You were young –too young– and didn’t have anyone else. You were alone in this world. It was almost instinct that the brothers took you under their wing. It was supposed to be a temporary thing, just until you gained a little more experience and could go on your own, or until they find you a hunting partner.

But you never really left. Weeks started going by, and you stayed by their side.

At first, Dean was annoyed. He was in his 40s, he was too old to be babysitting. He had to admit you were a damn good hunter, but you were too impulsive. Too ready to jump to action, too ready to put yourself in the line of fire. That was his job. But Sam wanted to make sure you would be safe after you got hurt in the werewolf incident, so he let you into the backseat of his car and drove you to the bunker.

As annoyed as he was, he had to admit, you were gorgeous. Soft hair, pouty lips, shiny eyes. You had a halo of light around you, an innocence to you that was captivating. Not to Dean, of course. He couldn’t. Because the longer the time he spent with you, the more you dug your way into his heart. Your soft giggles echoing through the otherwise gloomy bunker, the sweet smell of cookies when you decided to bake, the gentle touches of your hands as you patched him up after an especially awful hunt (he hadn’t been touched so gently in… ever, actually), the adorable smile you gave him after he begrudgingly compliments your improving hunting abilities.

You were too naive, too pure, too… good.

So Dean kept his distance. Or he tried.

Because what Dean didn’t know is that you were anything but naive. You knew from the moment your eyes met his, that you wanted him. He was tall, and broad, and his hair was long, falling a little over those piercing green eyes. He was rugged in the ways you liked, and soft in the ways that mattered. But it was the wrinkles around his eyes, the ones that reveal a history of laughter and playfulness even as he glared at you, that charmed you.

So you flirted with him, insatiably. Directly and indirectly. You ran your hand up and down his arm as you cleaned his wounds, squeezing his bicep tentatively. You complimented him in the worst possible moments, when he was concentrated in research or had just finished off a monster. You ran your fingers across his shoulders when you walked past him and you took any opportunity to press yourself to his huge frame. But you also flirted in other ways, wearing your shortest mini-skirts around the bunker, accidentally bending over to pick up a book in the library when you knew he was watching. You sucked on a lollipop as he tried to explain a case to you, and you blinked your big eyes at him, eyelashes fluttering and lips parting.

But every time, you got the same response. For a single moment, Dean would lean in. He would stare down at your lips, or he would take a step closer, hand hovering over your waist, and then he would look away. He would tell you he is too old for you, that he can’t take advantage of you. That he is too broken, too damaged, that you deserved better, someone your age that could give you a normal life. He would tell you that you have no idea what you’re asking for, but you know what you need.

So you walk into the kitchen late at night, past midnight, to get a snack after parading yourself around the bunker all day in your flimsy clothes while Dean did some work in the garage and tried not to lose his mind. You loved the way his eyes darkened when he saw you, the way his hands almost shook with the need to take you. His self-control was slowly crumbling, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

But this meeting is accidental. You are actually just looking for something to eat, not expecting Dean to be sitting at the dining table with a half-empty whiskey bottle and clouded eyes. You stop for a moment while he is lost in thought, not noticing you. He looks a little sad, and it is one of those few moments when the tough guy facade fell and you could witness the weight of the years on his shoulders. The years of hunting, of losing people, of nothing but fighting. As much as you desire Dean, you are also very much in love with him, and you didn’t like when he hurt like this, alone and drowning his thoughts with booze. So you clear your throat, making him turn to you.

“It’s drinking night and you didn’t tell me?” You joke, walking behind the kitchen island to grab a bag of chips from one of the cabinets.

“I thought you were asleep.” He murmurs, voice even deeper than it already usually is. You turn to look at him, meeting his eyes. Dean is good at keeping his emotions in check, at controlling his expressions, but you are good at reading people. Especially him. And there is this glint in his eyes, the one that tells you he doesn’t want to be alone.

So you grab a beer from the fridge and walk towards the dinner table, sitting down across from him. You had always preferred sweet, fruity drinks, but thanks to the Winchesters you had learned to appreciate beer. Whiskey was a hard no, though. Dean stares at you for a long moment, eyes unreadable, before lowering his eyes to his glass and letting out a low chuckle.

“What were you brooding about?” You take a sip of your beer, opening your bag of chips and offering Dean some. He shakes his head, taking a swig of his whiskey instead.

“Nothing, really. I don’t want to bore you with my old man stories.” He laughs, and some tension leaves his shoulders.

You bite your lip. Oh, if he only knew how much you loved it when he went all old man on you. When he reminisced about the past, when he tried to give you advice, showing you how experienced he was in so many different things, and how much it made you want to find out exactly how experienced he really was.

“I like your stories.” You offer softly, a small smile on your lips. “Come on, tell me a good one.”

He looks up at you over the rim of his glass, and you give him your best puppy eyes.

He crumbles immediately.

“Once, when I was twenty-three and Sammy was in college.” He starts, and he doesn’t stop.

You spend what feels like hours but also seconds sitting there, drinking beer after beer, listening to him. He tells you about this weird religious cult slash mental control witch he found once when hunting on his own. He tells you about the time he hooked up with some girl at a bar, and she ended up being an Amazon. He laughs at some of the memories and you laugh along. His expression gets somber when talking about certain people, the people he lost, and you give him a few seconds to wallow in it before you make a lighthearted comment that makes him smile again and move to another story. He talks about the times he died, the times he almost did. Sometimes, unconsciously, he rubs his hand over a part of his body as he tells a story, presumably where a scar marred his skin. All while you stare at him with shiny, attentive eyes, like he is the only person in the world that matters.

By the time you finish your third beer, Dean is already a tiny bit… not drunk, but definitely less guarded.

Still, he had such a high alcohol resistance. It was so hot.

“That case was crazy. I still wonder how the siblings are doing. I hope they’re okay.” There it is, the look on his eyes. The way they unfocus slightly as he absentmindedly traces the edge of his glass with his finger. It was in those moments that you can truly look at him, take in every small detail of his face. Every wrinkle, every scar, every evidence of every battle. The living proof of his resilience, of his experience, of his survival. You press your thighs together, trying to ground yourself.

You fantasize for a moment about sliding under the table, taking Dean into your mouth. Make his nostalgia turn into pleasure, make him feel good, remind him of the good old days.

“When was that?” You ask, gently coaxing him out of whatever place he got lost in his mind. He blinks at you, taking in your soft smile and sweet voice before replying.

“Right after Sammy started hunting again, so I was like… twenty-seven?”

You quickly do the math in your head, calculating how old you were back then. Fuck. You were still a kid when Dean was already killing wendigos and vampires and shifters. Oh, there must be something really wrong with you, because that makes something on your lower stomach burn.

“So, you were quite the ladies man, huh?” You tease him, trying to shake away the desire building inside of you. You watch him chuckle and drop his head forward.

You already knew that, because he still is. You have to watch women throw themselves at him in every hunt and every bar. It was infuriating.

“You could say that.” He replies nonchalantly, but there’s a smirk on his lips as he down the rest of his whiskey.

“Can you imagine me meeting you in your mid-twenties?” I giggle, and it causes Dean to snort and shake his head amusedly, refilling his glass. You lean forward on the table, your hand laying next to his. So close. “I can. I can imagine us meeting at a bar, or a diner.” You smirk. “Maybe even a concert! Can you imagine us meeting in a rock festival’s pit?”

Dean snorts again, eyes still down on his glass. He presses his tongue to his cheek, like he is trying to stop the words from coming out of his mouth, but they end up escaping him anyway.

“I was very different back then, sweetheart. I wouldn’t trust my younger self around a girl like you.”

And there it was.

The comment makes your breath get stuck in the back of your throat, and you look up at Dean with wide eyes.

I wouldn’t trust my younger self around a girl like you.

A girl like you.

Dean returns your heated gaze for a moment, his eyes sharp and deep in the way they only got after you teased him too much.

“But you trust yourself with me now?” You ask with the most innocent voice you can utter, batting your long eyelashes at him. You watch as he takes in a sharp breath, swallowing harshly.

“Barely.” He whispers, looking down at your lips when you lick them and then back at your eyes.

Shitshitshit.

“You don’t have to, you know?” Dean looks at you slightly confused, and you lean further forward before whispering. “Control yourself, I mean. You don’t have to.”

There is a second in which you think Dean will lunge himself at you, finally. His eyes are darker than you have ever seen them, because they weren’t dark with anger, they were full of pure, raw hunger.

His hand twitches, and then he pulls away.

He gets up from the table, downing back the whole glass of whiskey before setting it down on the table with a little too much force. He starts to walk away, and you don’t know if it’s the beers you had or the desperation that had been accumulating for months, but this time you try to stop him.

You get up from the table too, quickly moving until you are blocking his way out of the kitchen.

He says your name in reproach, eyes glued to the floor. “We can’t-”

“Yes, we can.” You interrupt him, waking a step closer until your chests are almost pressed together. You grab his arm, making him look at you. “Please, Dean. I want it, you want it. Come on.”

Dean still shakes his head, deep frown on his face. “I’ve told you, I’m not good for you, you-”

You groan, rolling your eyes and stomping your foot on the floor. It didn’t help make you look any more mature, but you didn’t care.

“Yeah, I know. I’m too young, you’re too old. You’re broken and dangerous and all of that.” You say sarcastically, making him raise his eyebrows. “When are you going to stop lying to yourself, Dean?”

That makes him scoff, and he shakes his head while looking away again. “It is true. You deserve better than some guy old enough to be your father.” He grimaces at his own words, rubbing a hand over his face.

But you double down, pressing your body completely against his. You push forward and Dean lets you guide him backwards, and you know he’s letting you because you could not make him move an inch if he didn’t want you to. He ends up pressed against the kitchen island, hand still covering his eyes. You use your hand on his arm to pull it down, forcing him to look at you again.

“Dean, I want you.” You look deep into his eyes, and he almost looks pained by it. “I know you think I don’t know what’s best for me, but I do. I know what I need, and I need you.” You squeeze his bicep before your hand moves to the back of his neck, fingers tangling with the hairs there.

He says your name again, almost as a plea.

He was breaking. He was caving in.

“Please, Dean.” You whisper as your lips brush his, looking into those green eyes that consumed your every waking thought. “We both know I need a real man.”

And that seems to do the trick. He lets out something akin to a growl, and his hands are finally on you. One moves to your waist, grip bruising. The other one goes to your hair, fingers intertwining with the long locks and pulling your head back, hard, exposing the delicate curve of your throat. It makes you whimper.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Dean leans in closer, but he doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he lets the tip of his nose brush against your skin, from the apple of your cheek to your jaw and down your neck. “I’m no prince charming.”

“I want you, Dean.” You whine when his lips brush against the sensitive surface of your throat. You use the hand that is still tangled on his hair to pull him up, make him meet your eyes. “Ruin me.”

His lips are on you in less than a second. The kiss is bruising, violent with months of repressed want. He pulls you even closer, his beard a little scratchy against the soft skin of your face. You love it.

He pushes your lips apart with his tongue and you let him in, whining at the way he bites your lip before licking behind your teeth. You weren’t inexperienced like Dean thought, you had hooked up with people once or twice, but nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing could compare to the way Dean’s experienced tongue explored your mouth, or the way he spins you two around until you are pressed against the kitchen island, callused hands running down your sides until they’re gripping the sensitive skin of your thighs, lifting you up until you are sitting on top of the counter.

You gasp at the sudden movement, but you part your legs and let Dean slide in between them, shuddering as his fingers run up and down your legs.

“You’re so fucking sensitive.” Dean grunts, lips moving down to kiss your neck. He bites the skin softly, and then a bit harder, making you moan.

You pull his hair harshly, and it is his turn to moan, a sound you wanted to hear every day of your life. You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him closer, until his clothed cock presses against your core over your dress. You two groan at the same time, and you pull Dean into another kiss.

“Come on, Dean. Show me how a real man fucks, teach me what real pleasure is.” You whisper against his lips, and he seems to go a little insane at that.

In seconds, his hands have already pulled the tiny white dress off your body, leaving you only in your lacy black underwear. He grunts again at the sight, hands running over all the new skin visible.

“You’re so sweet, so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, almost adoring, as his fingers brush over the curve of your breasts and down to your stomach. You bite your lip, enjoying the feeling of his rough hands on your smooth skin. It is hot, to be only in your underwear while Dean is completely clothed, but you want to see him too.

So you pull his shirt off him before he can say anything, and your mouth waters. He is all lean muscle and tanned skin. There is the tattoo on his chest you’ve fantasized so many times about licking, and you decide to go for it. You first bite softly over his collarbone, trying to subtly suck a hickey there. Judging by Dean’s chuckle, you’re not very subtle. You make your way down, trace his tattoo with your tongue, bite down on the flesh of his pectoral. You kiss over every scar you find, licking over the larger ones. It makes Dean shiver every time, and the way he holds you turns a little softer.

Then you press your hand over his bulge, and his breath hitches. It makes you feel proud that he is this affected by your touch. You rub him over his jeans for a moment, just basking in the feeling of it cupped in your hand and the fact that this was actually happening. You use both hands to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. You pull them down along with his underwear, and Dean takes a step back to be able to step out of them. And that is when you finally see all of him.

You have to bite your lip before doing something too crazy. Dean was big. Curved up against his stomach and flushed. And so fucking hard.

I did that, you think deliriously as you feel yourself getting wetter.

You lick your lips, craving to feel the weight of him on your tongue, but you need Dean to touch you right now.

Another time.

“One day I will suck you off until you pass out.” You breathe out, and it makes Dean groan. He presses back against you, kissing you harshly.

“You’ll be the death of me, baby.” He whispers against your lips before undoing your bra with just one hand, sliding it off your body. He pushes you backwards until your back touches the cold surface of the counter. It makes you shiver, but it is all forgotten when Dean takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

He sucks softly, and then a little harder. He moves to the other breast, giving it the same attention until your nipples are wet and flushed and hard. You are a whining mess by this point. He continues to make his way down your body with his mouth, lips brushing against your inner thighs and leaving dark purple marks on them. Because you were his now.

He takes off your boots and leaves your socked feet resting against the edge of the counter. The position leaves your legs wide open, and your chest rises and falls more rapidly the closer Dean’s face gets to your clothed pussy.

“Dean.” You whimper when he presses his face to your mound over your panties.

“Have any of those little boyfriends of yours ever eaten you out, or are they too much of a coward to do it?” You don’t respond, because your head is spinning and your vision is hazy. “It doesn’t matter, because I will show you how it is done.”

And he does. He pulls your panties off and devours you. He has you whining and moaning in seconds, hands pulling on his hair for dear life. He sucks on your clit and runs his tongue through your folds like a starved man. You come on his tongue once, and then again. You basically have to peel him away from you before you lose your mind when he keeps going, keeps sucking until you’re twitching with oversensitivity.

“Please, I need you inside.”

And how could he ever say not to that.

It is almost morning by the time you two are laying under the covers of Dean’s bed. He had fucked you there on the kitchen island (Sam can never know), and then he had fucked you again on his bed. You were both exhausted as you laid on his chest, drawing figures with your fingernails across his skin. You chuckle and look up at him, only to find him already staring at you. His eyes are softer than you have ever seen them as he seems to bask in the sight of you all fucked out and soft. It makes you blush.

“You might have actually ruined me for anyone else.” You joke, biting your lip. But it was true, you were sure that your body would reject anyone who wasn’t Dean Winchester from now on.

The joke makes some heat come back to Dean’s eyes, but also something else, something softer. Something so warm and delicate and absolutely terrifying.

“Good.” he rasps out. “Because you won’t need anyone else.”

NOTES: I can't believe all of this came out of a half-asleep horny thought that I had. Anyway, thank you so much for the overwhelming support, you are all the best.

Older Dean MAY come back because I am too obsessed with him, only if college doesn't kill me first.

TAGS: @h8aaz <3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

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werecreature-addicted · 10 months ago

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Ok, imagine this, werewolf is in love with his neighbor, a human girl, everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that the girl is a single mother of a little boy, and I'm not saying this because it's a bad thing for a woman to be a single mother, I'm saying this because of their neighbors, the other human neighbors have the mistaken idea that werewolves are cruel to other men's children, even propagating the absurd idea that werewolves kill the children of other males when they are interested in the mother. Of course our werewolf would never do that, werewolves would never harm a woman's offspring, so he has to be very careful and almost transparent to be able to woo the girl without her thinking that he is a danger to her or his little son

he meets your child first. he's just trying to carry in groceries, all of them in one trip of course, when he hears a small "can I help?" he looks down and sees a human pup with big wide eyes and a missing front tooth. He'd known that knew people had moved in next door a little while ago but he didn't know they came with a kid.

"Sure," he says and hands the kid one bag to carry as they trek up the driveway. it's a short walk and he can easily do it himself, but the werewolf thinks the boy is cute, so young yet already helpful and determined to prove his strength. what a good pack leader he would be one day. the kid drops the bag by his door and then runs back to his yard to play. The werewolf had never paid much attention to his next-door neighbors but he would start now.

He meets you a few days later and wow. he's never met a human so pretty. you seem nervous, a little frazzled from the recent move, but sweet. he tells you about your son helping him with the groceries and offers to help you any time you need anything, just looking for an excuse to see you again.

And you do need his help a lot around the house. it's hard trying to do everything yourself especially when you're raising a little boy. Luckily your neighbor is always there whether it's to replace some shingles on your roof or just play with your son for a little so you can get five minutes to yourself. you won't lie, you do pick specific favors to ask of him. sure you could do your own yard work, but there's just something so sexy about a sweaty hard-working werewolf.

He's so sweet he almost instantly becomes a part of your life. You can tell he's interested in you, you're not an idiot, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like him too. It's flattering to have someone clearly so into you even knowing you have a child.

You spend of late nights confiding in him and before you know it you start to think you're falling for him. then you happen to mention your blooming romance to one of your coworkers and they inform you, horrified, that if a werewolf is interested in a woman with a child they're known to kill the child so the mother can focus on raising the werewolf pups. The story chills you, you'd heard similar things about lions in the wild, and maybe it was true for all preditors.

you can't help but spiral a little bit, you've been leaving your baby alone with a hungry wolf. but... somehow you don't believe it. He had never shown himself to be violent or even anything but loving towards your son. and you knew he was closer to human than some wild animal. he wouldn't really do something like that, would he?

When you get home you're a little jumpy around your neighbor, which he notices. you don't let your son go over to his yard to play and you don't invite him over for dinner, which is odd, to say the least. but he doesn't push. You feel stupid, avoiding him like this, why should you be scared of someone who'd been nothing but kind?

you go out onto your porch that night and see him out looking up at the stars. when he hears you he waves you over.

"it's a pretty night," you comment sitting beside him, awkwardly.

"prettier with you here," he teases, you feel your face go hot and you have to look away, he laughs at your embarrassment. you're quiet for a long time before you finally bring up what was on your mind.

you don't come out and say "Hey are you going to murder my child to get closer to me?" but instead you ask him:

"you flirt with me a lot, but does it ever bother you that I have a child? does that make you hesitate to have a real relationship?" it's still blunt but it's not quite as accusatory.

"I've always wanted kids, I love your son, I'm not going to run because of it, I want you and you having a son doesn't change that," he assures you. A few months later you'll admit exactly what your coworker said, he was horrified you ever thought he'd be capable of hurting the boy he views as his son, and he tells you in no uncertain terms that he would die to protect the both of you. no harm is coming to either of you while he's here to protect his family.

#monster imagine #monster #monster fucker #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #werewolf x reader #werewolf #werewolves #werewolf boyfriend

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harrystylesland · 3 months ago

Text

Fated Mate [Part I]

werewolf, alpha!harry x omega!reader

Warnings: age gap, mild degradation, daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, controlling and abusive parental figure, mentions of sexual abuse, 18+ ONLY

┈ㆍ┈ㆍ⨯ * ₊ ୨ ♡ ୧ ₊ * ⨯ㆍ┈ㆍ┈

» Y/N «

“Is she an omega?” The red-haired woman sitting at the table next to mine gasps as her stare connects with me.

I toss my hair back, revealing the bonding gland located at the back of my neck. The circular organ is spongy and firm, with no bite marks on it. I’m proud of being unmated, but not many people think that way.

Her voice becomes strangled and choked when I caress the fleshy spot at the nape of my neck, gliding my fingers across it sensually. If there were any alphas around here, they’d go feral with lust. An omega proudly announcing her single unmated status is considered the equivalent of spreading your legs and displaying your pussy in public.

Conservative people think it’s an invitation for unwanted alphas to stake their claim.

Even though society has come far since the time when omegas had to be married and reproducing by the time they were eighteen, the expectation that an omega will find a mate by twenty one and get knocked up with her alpha’s children still persists in society.

The whispers around me grow.

As an omega, it’s impossible to go unnoticed in public. I stand out because of my body. I’m a walking temptation and I don’t try to hide it. Why bother? Everybody is bound to figure out that I’m an omega eventually.

I have also been told that I smell like milk and vanilla. A smell that captivates any alphas—both human and shifter—in my vicinity.

“Here’s your order. Enjoy!” The café’s assistant—a pretty beta girl—sets my café latte on the table, followed by a slice of strawberry shortcake. I love having something sweet in the morning. It’s my pick-me-up.

“Thanks.” I mumble before returning my attention to the book I’m reading.

The smell of fresh coffee swirls around me. I like this café because it’s open to only omegas and betas. It’s a safe space free from aggression and danger. Nowadays, there are many eateries and restaurants targeted at only omegas and betas, which has made it easier for omegas and betas to feel safe as they move into society.

My mind latches onto the words on the page. Heck, the erotic images that these romance novels paints have me lusting for my own happily-ever-after with a man who can keep me satisfied forever.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back before he kissed her…

I can feel a wet spot forming in my panties. The urge to stroke my intimate lips nags me. Reading romance novels makes me horny. It also reminds me of how good I can get railed if I try. It has been weeks since I had sex with anyone. I’m close to my heat—that period when I constantly drip with the need for a thick cock.

I skim my hands over my thighs, grabbing my flesh and loving how soft I feel. I love this part of being an omega. Omegas have the constant need to be filled and taken care of, which is why they were considered whores in the past. But I love my sexual side. It makes me feel alive.

The red-haired woman stares at me as I bring the coffee cup to my lips. I purr when the hot bitter liquid slides down my throat.

She coughs awkwardly. I smile at her, trying to look cocky. She’s a beta so she doesn’t fall for my sex appeal. Instead, she goes back to gossiping with her friends.

Most beta female—both human and shifter—have a different body structure. Less feminine and less curvy. They don’t have wide hips to carry a pack of babies nor huge breasts for their offspring to suckle milk from. My body was designed to give birth to and nurture healthy children.

I don’t hate the fact that I look fertile and lush. I’ve decided to own my curves and femininity. I use it to fulfill my own sexual needs. After all, my in-your-face fertility and softness make me a catch to men.

The heat from the coffee is settling in my stomach and spreading through my groin. I press my thighs together, trying to contain the stream of moisture leaking from my pussy. I can’t contain the insistent need for sexual intercourse.

That’s it.

I need a warm body on top of me and a big cock drilling into me tonight. Otherwise, I won’t get through tomorrow.

I whip out my phone and click on the blue square with a pink omega symbol inside it. It’s one of my favorite apps.

Omega Love Finder.

I downloaded it a year ago and it has given me my best sexual experiences.

I scroll the forbidden sex app under the table, sipping my drink as the women around me continue to make assumptions about me.

It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that even though I’m an omega and the world is a dangerous place for us, I have persistent sexual needs. Not just during my heats, which can be brutal unless I have a cock inside me all the time. Even on normal days, I have a high sex drive.

There’s one particular kink I enjoy more than any others. Being a little girl to a gentle dom. Call it biology, but I can’t get enough of being spoiled and provided for by a strong man. I want my partner to do all the work sexually—to dominate me, praise me, and tease me open with incentives and gentle commands.

Basically, I like being a pillow princess.

My looks have made it easy to find men who will cater to my needs. Most men tend to go soft when they see an omega. I guess everybody feels protective of me because of my biology.

While there are often alphas on Love Finder looking for omegas in heat to help them through their ruts, I always go for beta shifters because it’s safe for me.

I flick through the photos of men on the app.

I’m in the mood for a specific kind of dom tonight. One who is strong, big, and wears suits. Men in formal clothing do it for me. I guess it’s the sense of tradition, stability, and establishment they exude that makes me feel safe.

I finally found one that matches my needs.

Harry Styles.

My pussy throbs in approval when I look at his profile picture. My ovaries grow warm with the need to carry his babies.

Harry’s face is a wet dream. He has thick brown eyebrows. He’s also incredibly large with solid hands and thick muscular legs and biceps. He's also tall at 6’2. His face is chiseled and angular—masculine enough to convince me that he’d make a great dom. While his eyes are forest green, his mouth is pink and warm, framed by a soft beard that I already want to caress. The contrast between his hard eyes and soft expression intrigues me.

Harry’s profile claims that he’s a wolf shifter, which is also called werewolf. I scroll to see his secondary gender designation, but that column is blank.

My heartbeat picks up. It’s unusual for people to not disclose their secondary gender on an app like this since so many matches are made based on mutual needs.

He’s probably not an alpha though. Alphas are proud and have a superiority complex because of how much influence they exert over society. They take every opportunity to let people know that they are alphas.

Trust me, I know. My guardian is an alpha.

Harry is probably a shy beta, or an omega trying to stay safe. I don’t mind being with another omega as long as he can take the lead.

I read on for his sexual preferences.

I’m a dom, but not into inflicting pain. I like to feel strong and in control. I hope my partner feels protected and safe enough to surrender to me and let me take care of them. I like DDLG roleplays and light bondage. Nothing crazy like binding, chains, and whips, but I get off on telling my partner what to do. We’ll negotiate boundaries before we play. If you’re a sub looking for a gentle dom, we’ll be a great match.

My omega instinct wails to be with Harry. He has ticked every box on my list so far. I immediately swipe right.

Attacking my cake with a spoon, I grow antsy for his reply. He probably works in a big corporation somewhere. I doubt he has time to look at his phone and reply to messages instantly.

I jump when a message floats into my inbox some minutes later.

He’s interested too.

⋆ ˚ ⊱ ✧ ⊰ ˚ ⋆

I’m burning with anticipation when I enter the hotel lobby. Harry and I agreed to meet in his suite room.

I could tell how rich he is when he casually suggested that he would rendezvous at the most expensive hotel in town. When I offered to pay half the room’s cost, he said he had the room permanently reserved in his name so he wasn’t paying anything extra to have me there.

I swallow before knocking on the door.

“I’m Y/N.” I raise my voice so he can hear me on the other side.

“Come in. The door’s open.” He responds. His deep gruff command instantly sets my nerves on fire. I want him to praise me and degrade me with that voice.

I push the door open, then after filling my lungs with air, I charge in.

My eyes immediately snag on the unmissable male figure in the room.

Harry is lounging comfortably on the huge king-sized bed. A gray suit jacket lies discarded on the sofa. He’s still wearing his waistcoat. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are unbuttoned and folded back to reveal thick veiny forearms. My pussy jerks with heat as I rake my eyes over those bulging veins, wanting those hands to hold me down. Imagining those thick digits stroking my wet heat.

“Hello, I’m Y/N.” I walk on shaky feet.

At first, I was confused about why I was so nervous and so turned on. Then his scent hits me—woody, spicy, and thick with power.

Panic swells in my blood, rushing to my brain.

He’s an alpha.

And the only alpha I’ve ever been around is my father and he was unfortunately a controlling entitled prick.

I was so happy when I met a beta woman who had lost her omega mate and she adopted me as her own daughter after I got an emancipation order. I was tired of my dad oppressing me, telling me how to dress, and making me into a powerless omega who was dependent on the whims and commands of an alpha.

And so, the moment I recognize Harry’s scent, I react without hesitation. I swivel back, even though my pussy is leaking moisture. My skin is hot, demanding an alpha’s possessive comforting touch.

I have never slept with an alpha and I have no doubt it’d be the most otherworldly and exhilarating experience of my life. Alphas have huge cocks and my feminine heat needs to be stroked and stretched.

However, I’m not ready for the consequences that will follow the mating. The guilt, the shame, and the feeling of having been used like I’m a fleshlight.

“Wait.” His words are like a leash wrapping around my neck and pulling me back. An alpha’s command has a powerful effect on an omega. They can make me do anything if they talk to me in that voice filled with authority and lust. “Don’t be afraid of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

My body relaxes immediately, believing him. His intentions are clear and they’re comforting like a warm blanket wrapped around me.

“You never said you were an alpha.” I tense my shoulders. “I don’t sleep with alphas.”

He squints in confusion. “Aren’t you an omega?”

“So? I don’t like alphas. They’re domineering and possessive. They control me and treat me like an object. I want to be a princess, not a trophy.”

“I promise I won’t treat you like that.” He comes to his feet. Upright, I can’t ignore how tall and big Harry is. Every object in the room seems insignificant compared to his imposing silhouette. My legs itch to rush to him. My body longs to be nestled in the safety of that broad chest. Harry’s eyes soften. “Y/N, come here. Let’s talk about what’s making you anxious.”

Let’s talk.

I’m perplexed. Paralyzed by confusion. Alphas are high-handed. They don’t like discussions. They like telling you what to do.

He should have told me to stay, told me that an omega like me belongs under him, but he didn’t.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t fuck alphas.”

“I’m a shifter. A werewolf.”

“An alpha werewolf.” I say sharply, emphasizing the word alpha. “I don’t trust you.”

“Then let’s work on that.”

He wants to work on it?

My head feels light. Maybe this guy isn’t an alpha after all. His personality is too well-adjusted, but one whiff of his pheromones confirms that he is indeed one.

He is pure sex appeal bottled into an olfactory sensation. His smell fuels my need to surrender. My knees are shaking. I want to collapse on the floor and have him carry me to the bed. Then I want him to tear off my clothes and thrust into my wet heat.

I shake my head. Being his cum dump might feel good in the moment, but I’ll never live down the aftermath. And what if he decides to take me by force? I don’t want to be bonded to someone I don’t love.

I exhale. Then as I brush my hair away from my neck, it reveals the mating gland situated there.

Harry’s eyes flare with heat, going pitch black as his pupils dilate to fill his irises. His breathing grows frenetic. He can’t take his eyes off the spot—the forbidden unclaimed spot that the wolf inside him is probably dying to mark.

“You can’t bite me.” I say firmly. “I don’t want to belong to any alpha until I decide he’s the one I’m marrying.”

His jaw tightens with the strain of holding himself back. “I will respect that. A woman who thinks long-term relationship is definitely wife material.”

“Let me make this clear. I’m not going to be your wife. Or your mate. Or your anything. I’m only here for a fun night and to be spoiled by a dom. You can pound my pussy and use every part of my body including my ass, but you can’t try to claim me. Understood?”

Harry’s nostrils flare. His hands are fisted around the bedsheet. An alpha doesn’t usually get challenged by an omega, much less have an omega telling him what he can’t do.

While I'm waiting for Harry’s response, I expect him to show his dominance, to tell me he can claim me wherever he wants.

“Your gland is off-limits?” His neck muscles go taut with tension as he releases a bitter laugh.

“I won’t surrender to a dom who has no self-control. That’s dangerous for me.”

“I do have self-control. I won’t do anything that either of us will regret later.” He nods in approval. “So you don’t have to worry about becoming my mate. Thank you for being honest with me.”

My whole body erupts with pride at that gesture. It’s like I want him to be pleased by my behavior, to tell me I’m smart and sensible—not a reckless omega looking to get violated. That’s what people always tell me.

Betas and alphas can indulge their sexual needs as much as they like without the threat of being claimed and impregnated, but omegas are oppressed because of their nature. And I won’t tolerate that. I also stay safe by taking my suppressants. I don’t need birth control pills. I can’t get pregnant from an alpha who hasn’t mated with me and bitten me on the neck to bind me to him forever. That’s the way omega bodies function. My womb will only carry my alpha’s seed. It’s both convenient and inconvenient since I don’t know if I’ll ever find the right alpha, but I do want to have kids of my own.

“That’s my hard boundary. I’m not looking to settle down. All I need is a hot one-night stand with a man who’ll make me come.” I tell him. “My other conditions include that you leave no marks on my body. I don’t like pain and punishment. And I want you to be loving. Don’t treat me like a possession.”

“You like feel-good sex?” He quirks his eyebrows. “So do I.”

“Good. We’re on the same page. Anything I need to know about your preferences, Harry?” I can’t fathom asking this question because it means that I’m thinking of going through with having sex with an alpha.

“I need intimacy.” Harry runs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t fuck someone just because they’re hot. I hate meaningless sex that feels emotionally empty. Even if we’re only sleeping together, my emotions must be involved. I want to feel like you really love me even though if it’s an act.”

An alpha who wants to be loved and not obeyed? Now that’s something I’ve never heard of.

Harry shocks me with every word that comes out of his mouth. He’s more than the controlling alpha stereotype. He’s deep. He cares about feelings—his own and mine. He doesn’t want to present the image of being stoic and cold so he comes off looking invulnerable. He’s dominant, but not addicted to having authority. It must be because he’s so successful in his career. He has so much control over the external world. And unlike my father, he’s not trying to feel masculine by treating women like slaves.

“Okay, I can do that. I’m good at roleplaying.” I nod. “But if you do something I’m uncomfortable with, or I want you to stroke my hair and call me nicknames, I’ll speak up immediately. It may make you uncomfortable, but I don’t care.”

Harry grins. “I love a feisty brat.”

I blink in surprise. “Your inner alpha doesn’t feel threatened when someone tells you what to do?”

“I take it as a suggestion rather than a command.” Harry’s cloudy green eyes watch me with interest.

My body is really sending me confused signals right now. I’m here for sex only, but cuddling with him and talking about our lives suddenly seems like a much better idea.

I shake off that useless thought. I’m not looking to date an alpha. Or get deeply involved with one.

“I think it’s good to have a partner who expresses their emotions. Why would it make me feel out of control because you have needs? I’m not interested in fucking a robot with no personality.” He continues to explain.

My chest fills with warmth. My shoulders relax. And I can’t prevent a smile from forming on my lips.

As crazy as it sounds, I like this guy. He’s an alpha, but I like him. He’s not like any of the alphas I’ve seen before. He’s not insecure. His sense of power is not fragile and is based on absolute command.

“Okay.” I should feel threatened, scared, and antsy. I should be running away and writing off this encounter as an unfortunate tragedy. But after our conversation, I want to be taken care by this gorgeous alpha. “Let’s start then.”

I unbutton my dress. Peeling the sleeves off my arms, I let the garment glide over my hips until it’s lying on the ground.

I turn around, giving him a glimpse of my juicy ass and smooth back. It’s thrilling to see how quickly the bulge in Harry’s pants grows when he takes me in. His erection is huge. My pussy is getting excited at the thought of milking that giant cock.

“You can’t seem to take your eyes off my gland.” I tease in a seductive tone. “Do you like it?”

“I know I can’t claim you, but can I touch it? Promise I won’t bite.” Harry holds up his pinky finger in a mock promise.

I find that gesture adorable and his question boyish and sweet. The innocence coupled with his deadly good looks makes for an intriguing combination. He makes me feel safe.

“You may touch.” I reply, my voice shivering. “I’ve never let anybody touch that spot.”

“I’m grateful for the honor.” Harry motions me to him. “Come sit on my lap, baby girl. Let me look at your gorgeous mating gland.”

My pussy flutters when he calls me his baby girl—not because the endearment is anything special, but because he says it with so much affection like I actually mean something to him. It’s the kind of tone I could imagine him using on his own daughter. Harry would be the type of dad who would spoil his daughters rotten. He’s the sort of man who feels good when he’s loved by the women around him. He’ll be an amazing daddy.

I can’t believe I get to be cherished by him, even for one evening.

His thumb tests the spongy circular skin of my mating gland. His breath leaves his nostrils in forceful streams, hitting my neck like gusts of wind. He traces the shape of my gland using delicate light touches. I’m already grinding into his thick erection. My pussy throbbing from the friction between our sexual organs.

“So beautiful.” Harry’s voice shivers with need. He presses a kiss on my gland, licking circles around my sacred bonding spot. His tongue dips, painting a wet trail from my neck to my spine. We’re flirting with danger here. His mouth is already on my gland. Any second, he could decide to sink his teeth into me and forcefully claim me as his omega. But I know he won’t. He licks me a few more times then moves his head away. “Your body is soft and delicious.”

“Do you want to claim me?” I inquire, still on edge.

“Of course I do.” He replies with a desperate growl. “I’m an alpha. The wolf inside me wants to claim you, pin you down, and stuff your stomach with my pups.”

My eyes widen, panic edging between my ribcage. I twitch, coming off his lap and onto my feet, moving myself away from the masculine intoxicating presence of Harry Styles.

I look around, wondering how to escape this place and this man who has hypnotized me with his gentle voice. But my body refuses to move. It doesn’t want to run.

My wet heat wants to take Harry’s cock and grow his children in my womb. My blood shivers with the need to have my belly swollen with pups. The ache in my pussy intensifies at the image of Harry stroking my pregnant stomach and kissing it. I’m flabbergasted.

I’ve never wanted to have any man’s babies before. Is this the primal instinct of an omega when faced with the potent scent of an alpha? Or is it something else?

Before I can move, Harry’s fingers snake around my wrist. “Did I scare you, baby girl? I’m sorry. I can’t hide my feelings. But my word is binding. Trust me, I won’t claim you.”

He pulls me to his chest and caresses my hair, whispering to me that it’s alright to trust him. That he won’t ever hurt me.

I wish I could believe him, but I can’t. What I do believe in is my ability to hate alphas. But my body is melting with his warm touch.

Before long, the suspicious thoughts in my head have been replaced by blissful ones. Harry spreads me out on the bed and takes his time relishing every part of my body. He caresses the shell of my ear. The roughness of his thumb pad provides a delicious texture against my soft skin.

“So pretty. My baby girl is so gorgeous.” He whispers.

My pussy responds immediately, releasing a stream of moisture. His voice isn’t sexy or flirty, just loving and full of admiration. And that kind of loving compliment sets my core on fire. I never imagined I’d be the kind of girl to respond to sweet affectionate lovemaking. I guess my new Daddy is teaching me all kinds of things about myself.

I writhe under his expert care, swimming in an ocean of warm elation as his fingers travel down my breasts, circling my areolas.

“Daddy, that feels so good...” I mumble when he latches onto my hard nipple and pleasures it with his tongue. He strokes my thick bud with the wet tip, inciting heatwaves in my core.

Harry squeezes my other breast, dragging his thumb along the underside. “You have huge boobs. Daddy loves suckling on them and playing with them.”

I love it too. He does something magical to me every time he touches me. Even though his fingers and tongue brush me gently, his control is a silent force behind him. He knows exactly what he’s doing. And I love that fact.

“I’m an omega.” I remind him. “My boobs are bigger than average.”

“Your body is so lush and fertile too.” Harry’s reverent tone matches the delicate brushes of his fingertips against my hips. “Daddy loves a baby girl who is ripe with need for his cock.”

Heaviness is building up between my thighs. The dark sensation is somewhere between an impending orgasm and an all-out physiological takeover of my mind by a strong alpha. My body feels dense. His every finger stroke seeps into my bloodstream, making my blood feel thick with his claim.

“You’re so good at foreplay.” I say. It’s a real compliment. Men rarely pay this much attention to turning me on when I’m already leaking like a faucet. “I’m gushing.”

“I need you even wetter.” Harry bites his lip. “My cock is not the average size.”

There it is. The alpha in him asserts its superiority.

I chortle. “We’ll see.”

Harry climbs on top of me. His weight makes me feel small and vulnerable. I’d never admit it out loud, but having a big bad alpha mount me like this exhilarates my senses. I want him to stake his dominance over me.

His lips flit over my neck, sucking the tender skin at the juncture of my shoulders. My back arches off the bed.

“That…” I pant. “That felt powerful.”

I never knew I was so sensitive there. Nobody has played with that spot before.

“Daddy’s going to make his baby girl tremble with pleasure.” Harry flashes his perfect teeth and continues sucking at my flesh. “I hope you don’t have any plans for the rest of the evening because this is going to take all night.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy.” The words flow so naturally from my lips. It’s not an act, not part of the play. It’s what I’m feeling. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Y/N. I want to take care of you properly. Buy you flowers every day and pleasure you until you’re dizzy.”

My inner romantic sighs at his words. I wish I could be with the kind of man who would buy me flowers and romance me every day, but that’s just a fantasy for an omega stuck in a world full of entitled alphas who believe in control rather than wooing.

“I’d love that.” I lie, even though we’ll never see each other again. “I love being spoiled with thoughtful gifts.”

“I’ll spoil you rotten, baby girl.” His heavy-lidded gaze is drenched with underlying meaning that I’m too scared to intuit. The boundaries between fantasy and reality are so blurred when I’m with him. I want this to be real, but I’m scared of the consequences of a reality that involves me dating an alpha. “You’ll never doubt how much I love you.”

I moan when his lips crush mine. The kiss only intensifies my developing feelings for him. I’ve never considered having a Daddy who spoils me outside the bed, but Harry is triggering something deep within me that demands to have a real connection.

I feel like I’m in a spa. My body is buoyed by a sense of relief and safety. I’m in good hands. At no point do I feel unsafe or uncomfortable. Harry has great intuition about what parts of me need and how much pressure.

“I want to spend hours licking and stroking your soft skin. I want to discover the parts of you that have been neglected.” His tongue glides up my inner thigh, setting off a slow burn in my groin.

I’m so close to coming and he hasn’t even put his fingers or mouth anywhere near my pussy yet.

I cry at his gentleness. I know I chose to have steamy sex-only encounters with random men, but I miss being cared for. Someone who wants to know my body inside out and spend countless days finding out my sweet spots is so much more than a fuck buddy. I never thought I needed someone like that.

Tears of pure ecstasy roll down my cheeks when Harry’s tongue finds its way into my wet folds. He sucks on my clit. Hot currents of bliss thrash inside me. Whenever he stimulates my pleasure center, a symphony of aches builds up between my legs.

“I’m going to come…” I cry. I’m both embarrassed at coming so fast and shocked.

“Call Daddy’s name when you feel good.” Harry’s deep voice vibrates against my aroused pussy, heightening the fever in my channel.

He wriggles his tongue into my empty hole, filling it with a pale imitation of his hardness. Nevertheless, my walls clench around his tongue, reaching for a higher peak. The dance of his tongue against my feminine lips continues until I’m broken and sobbing from the need to come.

Harry senses I’m close to the edge too.

He sniffs my wet sex. Wolf shifters have supernaturally strong senses so I’m sure he can smell the wetness oozing from my pussy. I want to hide how much I love him commanding me in a sexual sense, but I’m just too turned on right now.

Just when I need the final nudge from his tongue to push me past my limits, Harry removes his mouth, leaving me in a hornet’s nest of frustration.

“I’m close, Daddy.” I whine.

“You’re not allowed to come until Daddy’s cock is inside you.” Harry presses my wrists into the mattress with his hands. “I want to feel your pleasure contracting around me.”

Before I can question him, he drops his pants and quickly rips his shift and waistcoat off his body. He’s completely naked now.

My pussy cramps with greater desire when I become aware of his powerful body. You’d think he was a Greek God from the perfect formation of his torso. The two cuts of muscle that dip into his hips fan my lust.

But it’s his cock that takes my breath away. It’s so thick and huge. I’ve seen cocks before. A lot of them actually. But none like this.

I guess this is why he’s an alpha. I know an omega’s body is also much curvier than other women and he has probably never seen boobs the size of mine.

“It is big.” A hint of panic rears its head, but Harry hushes it with a soothing press of his palm against my wet entrance.

“Don’t worry. I prepared you well. It won’t hurt.” He reassures me. His understanding of my fears makes our intimacy feel layered and deep. Harry positions his cock at my entrance. I can tell he’s excited to penetrate me. “Will you be a good baby girl for your Daddy and take his cock?”

“Yes.” I’m breathless with anticipation. After that orgasm, my pussy is open with relaxation. I need a little roughness now to offset the sweetness from before. “Give it to me hard, Daddy.”

I scream when he enters me, breaching my tightness with incredible strength. I feel his intrusion ringing in my bones, setting my cells on fire. I’ve been altered in some fundamental way by his penetration even though my mind can’t grasp how.

Our joining feels like a primordial awakening. An event as old as time itself. The profoundness of our mating terrifies me.

“This feeling... oh my God.” I trail off as he thrusts deeper into me, making my body shake with the immense waves of pleasure inundating my blood.

My whole self goes numb as an orgasm spreads through me. It’s like a flower blooming in my core and spreading its sweet scent to the rest of my body.

“We’re mating, baby girl. This is how it always feels.” Harry’s locks of hair vibrate every time he thrusts into me. His forehead is slicked with sweat and his dark brown strands are wet with the proof of his exertion.

“Mating?” My confused words swim in the air as my body surrenders to an undoing like no other. “But you haven’t touched my gland.”

“I don’t have to.” Harry breathes out a stream of breath over my stimulated nipple. “Your body already knows it’s mine even if I never mark it with my teeth.”

The words make no sense, but the truth in them twists its way into my subconscious. I can’t explain what I’m experiencing, but I can’t deny that it feels like bonding with an alpha. Mere words can’t describe the rightness of our union like it was destined to happen. Like it has already happened for lifetimes.

I do believe in soulmates, but I didn’t think a one night stand could make my soul weep with longing over nothing more than another brush of his cock against my walls.

But this doesn't feel like just a physical coupling. This isn’t just sex.

Harry’s right. It’s two mates coming together and vowing silently to be together forever.

I make a promise without knowing I’m making one.

My pussy swallows his cock. Pangs of pleasure cramp my belly at every intimate contact with his cock. I’m already in the throes of a climax. How does it keep getting better? Why does my body feel more and more like it’s becoming his?

“Are you ready to be drenched in cum, baby girl?” Harry’s grin makes him look like an evil villain in a paranormal show.

I want to be part of his evil plot. “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry pushes into me one final time. Then he releases all his pent-up desire. Warm sticky release coats my insides and begins trickling from my seam.

I revel in the glorious sensation of feeling completely lost in someone else’s arms. Of becoming an alpha’s cum dump. I’m lucky that I’m an unmated omega because I can feel his cum slicking my pussy without worrying about consequences.

“That was beautiful. Transcendent.” Harry’s airy words wash over my face. “You were brilliant, Y/N. I love you so much. You are so perfect.”

Each successive compliment boosts my heart, making my chest swell. I feel good, not used. I feel appreciated, not appraised.

As the haze of bliss settles on me, my heart flutters with contentment. I’ve never had this kind of sex before. I felt wooed, loved, and taken care of. Is this why omegas fall head over heels in love with alphas? Because they know how to give us what we want?

I enjoy my orgasm until the very last moment when it all disappears into a puff of heavenly smoke. Harry’s still on top of me, watching me with a mysterious expression.

I place my palm over my chest, feeling my elevated heartbeat. “I feel like I’ve been to heaven and back.”

“That was only round one.” He replies, quirking his lips in an amused smile. “Will you sleep here tonight?”

There’s a vulnerability in his voice—a hint of his real feelings emerging through the alpha mask.

I can’t refuse. It’d break my heart to refuse him. I can’t understand why I have so much empathy and compassion for him, even though he’s an alpha.

But he’s not using his influence to make me obey. He’s just asking me.

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, facing him coyly. “Sure.”

“We can order room service if you’d like. We’ll fill your belly before we continue.” Harry reaches for the phone on the nightstand. “Aren’t you hungry?”

My stomach growls. I giggle. “A midnight meal sounds good.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ❈ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─

» HARRY «

“You found your mate?” Tom—my secretary and best friend, also a wolf shifter—screws one black eyebrow upward. The silent judgment and the not-so-silent curiosity prickle my skin. “Can I see her picture?”

I growl. “Hell, no”

Tom’s body shivers with a deep laugh. “I see you’re getting possessive already, but what’s the point? She doesn’t even know she’s your mate. She could be scrolling the app now for another hookup, or having a sexy time with another man...”

The roar that rushes out of my throat is so loud and feral that even Tom flinches. He’s a beta so my aggression affects him badly. His shoulders tense like he’s ready to flee.

“Sorry.” I make an effort to reign in my primal rage at the thought of my mate being pounded by another alpha. “I drive myself crazy by imagining doom and gloom scenarios already so don’t make it worse. I’m starting to feel insecure and that’s not a feeling I’m familiar with as an alpha.”

“Okay, Alpha.” Tom rolls his eyes. “Then why don’t you contact her again and tell her you want her? Isn’t that what alphas are good at? Forcing people to listen to them?”

“I’m not an idiot, Tom.” I press my fingers on my throbbing temples. “I’ve lived for thirty seven years. Women hate being told that the reason I’m pursuing them is because their pheromones do it for me. They want to feel desired for their personality, not their biology.”

Tom throws up his arms in resignation. “Well, don’t come crying to me if she hooks up with another tough alpha and decides she’s going to marry him.”

“She isn’t going to marry anyone she doesn’t like and she definitely hates alphas.” I inform him. “She said it herself.”

“An omega who doesn’t want to be shackled?” Tom applauds as he approves. “You caught yourself a fiery one.”

I wonder why my chest warms when he calls my woman fiery. I love a challenge and Y/N is going to be a lifelong challenge. I can tell.

Fated bonds are mostly a compelling biological impetus, but my rational mind is equally captivated by my mate. My heart is growing feelings for her that have nothing to do with her ability to turn my cock into a hard pole.

It can’t be easy for an omega to be as empowered as she is. I want to know her past. I want to understand her present. Most of all, I want to find out who hurt her and made her afraid to trust alphas. Then I will destroy him.

“Honestly, I don’t care for marriage.” I open the door to my office, keeping it open so Tom can follow me in. “As long as I can be by her side, I don’t need anyone’s approval. You know mating bonds are much more powerful than any document.”

I couldn’t tell Y/N that she was my mate. She was so spooked by me being an alpha that I couldn’t bring it up without destroying the fragile trust we had built with each other. Not that it would matter to her. I’m a fuck buddy to her. Not even that. She said she never wanted to see me again. Which makes me a one night stand.

God, wondering if she hates me is driving me nuts.

But there’s one thing I remember. That is the way her eyes turned misty with happiness when I said I’d buy her flowers every day. She might act like she’s cynical, but deep inside Y/N wants romance as much as anybody else. She must have been hurt deeply by an alpha to believe she’d never find it.

If I have to win her trust, the first thing I need to do is to help her trust alphas again, to make her see that we’re not all domineering oppressors. She probably had her safety and boundaries violated before and I have to assure her that it will never happen again if she trusts me.

I quickly type a message to her. I’m relieved she hasn’t deleted our chat from before.

Harry: I know we agreed to never have sex again, but is it okay if I send you flowers? Just this once. You were such a good baby girl. I want to give you a gift to show how much I appreciated you last night. Consider it the last time you get spoiled by your Daddy.

“Hey, Tom, can you order me some roses?” I’m already instructing my secretary even though Y/N hasn’t replied to my text, but I know she will give in. She desires real love. She wants to be treated like she’s special and precious, not just another omega body to be bred.

“Sending them to your girl?” Tom asks.

“That’s right.” I grin. “It’s time I started wooing her seriously before my wolf kills me.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ❈ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─

» Y/N «

Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into?

I can tell Harry is attached to me. He said he wanted to send me flowers because I made him so happy yesterday. I should have reminded him of our agreement to forget everything, but I texted him my business PO box instead. It won’t be difficult for someone like him to track me down if he puts his mind to it.

I bite my nails. Panic is spreading through my bloodstream.

Shit. What am I going to do if he finds me? If he forces his way into my apartment and makes me obey him with that sexy commanding voice?

Nervous, I check Omega Love Finder, determined to delete my message. But he has already seen it. Not only that, he has replied to it with a heart emoji.

I’m used to guys who would ghost me once they’ve had my body or demand I sleep with them again. I can’t comprehend why a sexy alpha with so much wealth and power would want to send me flowers because I gripped him well with my pussy. Isn’t that just a given for an omega?

Y/N: I hope you understand that while I appreciate your sweet gesture, I’m not looking for more with you.

Harry: I know. I just felt like spoiling you because I’m feeling good this morning. It’s all thanks to you.

His text hits me and makes me feel energized too. Nobody has ever said that being with me made them feel good.

My heart skips a beat. I hate that an alpha made me feel this way. Harry is dangerous. He’s making me reconsider all my boundaries.

I hate alphas. If you give them a little bit of control, they’ll take everything away from you. I have learned that with my father. I won’t be making the same mistake again.

Y/N: On second thought, forget about the flowers. Delete my address. I don’t want you showing up at my place. Not that they’d let you in since it’s an alpha-safe zone.

Harry: Baby girl, don’t panic.

Y/N: This feels like a trap. Like you want more from me.

Harry: I’ll send you flowers every day for the rest of our lives without ever asking for more if it makes you uncomfortable.

I stop and stare at that sentence on my screen for a whole minute. He typed that too fast for him to have strategized it. Then why is it so heartwarming?

Unconditional love is a myth. Even my dad didn’t love me unconditionally. Every gift came with a million strings attached. He wanted me to change for him. To be who he dictated I should be in return for taking care of me.

Y/N: I’m not giving you anything in return.

Harry: I didn’t ask for anything.

Y/N: I’m not going to be nice to you or sleep with you again.

Harry: I know, baby girl. Trust me, I’m not trying to con you. Just allow me to be your Daddy. Isn’t that what you want?

My Daddy. He wants to be my Daddy even outside the bedroom. He wants to spoil me with flowers and god knows what else if I let him.

A part of me sighs with happiness. I can’t believe such men even exist. I thought their population was wiped out somewhere in the last century and all the guys now think love is about what they can get, not the simple act of giving.

I sigh, feeling like a neurotic nutcase. Am I making a mountain out of a simple offer?

Nothing is more confusing than Harry Styles trying to be a gentleman. He’s like a dream that feels too good to be true.

My defenses automatically come up whenever my autonomy is threatened, especially by an alpha. Even though my instincts scream to let him take control, I know how miserable that made me in the past. I can’t let him shape my identity and who I am.

Y/N: Okay. I’ll let you. This once.

Harry: Thank you. If I’m being honest, I want to wine and dine you, take you shopping, and watch the sunset with you on the beach. But I know you’ll freak out if I actually suggested it. I’m just putting it out there. In case you wanted to be treated like a baby girl. It’ll be romantic, not sexual.

You know I like feeling emotions. I have enough money that it wouldn’t have to mean anything. Think about it.

My stomach goes hollow with a mixture of adoration and concern.

Harry has every right to express his feelings and desires, especially his desire to treat me well. The way he words his messages doesn’t feel pushy. He’s giving me a choice. He’s leaving the final decision in my hands. In the hands of an omega.

Omegas weren’t born to make decisions. Leave that up to an alpha, Y/N. My father’s often-spoken statement rings in my ears, bringing me back to reality.

No matter how nice Harry might be, on the inside he’s like every other alpha. I have to remember that. Otherwise, I’ll end up getting in trouble.

Y/N: Thank you for the kind offer, but I’m too jaded to believe that anybody would give me so much without strings attached. Like I said, I’m not looking to turn our ONS into a long-term thing.

Harry: Y/N, I know it’s hard to trust a stranger, but I want to make you believe that there are good people in the world. You deserve to experience pleasure and companionship without any obligations. So do I. So does everyone.

I’m seeing my bottom lip with my teeth again. Why is he so good at getting into my heart and saying all the right things?

I’ve distrusted alphas ever since my father tried to force me to mate with an alpha at sixteen. I ran away from home, but sometimes it feels like I’m still running away.

I’m an adult now. My father doesn’t own me. No alpha owns me.

Y/N: Keep your word and send me flowers for a week without mentioning anything more. Then I’ll consider it.

Harry’s reply is instantaneous.

Harry: Done.

⋆ ˚ ⊱ ✧ ⊰ ˚ ⋆

The first bouquet of flowers arrives on the same day. I have to sign to accept the delivery.

It’s a massive profusion of red roses. Classic. Elegant. And heartwarming. There’s also a note with the bouquet.

I don’t know what kind of flowers you like. This seemed like a safe choice. Y/N, thank you for yesterday. I haven’t felt the way I do about you in forever. And please tell me what your favorite flowers are, otherwise I’ll tear my hair out in anxiety over having made the wrong choice.

Harry x

I don’t want to text Harry too much because I know he has an important job and doesn’t need me to distract him, but the note and the fact that he says he’s anxious about miffing me with his choice of roses is too cute to pass up.

Alphas assume what you like.

No, scratch that.

They tell you what you should like.

It was always like that with my father. He chose the clothes I wore, how much makeup I could have on, what I said, and whom I talked to. Even though my dresses were modest and demure, with high necks to cover my mating gland, he’d tell me that omegas should always be obedient and wear what their alpha wants them to. That we’re here to bear children and comfort our alphas, not self-express through fashion.

I hated those clothes. I boiled in them and they made me look like a Victorian matron, doing nothing to show off the parts of me that are gorgeous and deserve to be looked at.

That’s why I wear revealing clothes now. I show my breasts because hiding them only makes it more obvious that I’m an omega.

My fingers are shivering on the phone screen. Despite having worked on my issues, I’m still kind of terrified about telling an alpha what I like, especially when it’s non-sexual.

Y/N: I got the flowers. I don’t mind roses, but I love sunflowers.

There is no response for an hour. I’m not the type of girl who waits on men. I have a life, a business, and goals. I try to work on my client’s brief and soon, I have forgotten all about Harry and our exchange.

Until my phone pings.

And my body reacts instinctively, putting everything aside to check my messages.

Harry: Thank you for telling me. I hope to find out more about your preferences in the future. Also, sunflowers suit your fiery personality so good choice.

Good choice. An alpha praised me.

Harry actually indirectly told me that my preference was good, not inferior or wrong compared to what he picked for me. I cling to that moment of praise for far too long.

What is this wolf shifter doing to me?

⋆ ˚ ⊱ ✧ ⊰ ˚ ⋆

I receive sunflowers the next day. And the day after that.

For a whole week, Harry keeps up his part of the bargain. He never pressures me to message him. He doesn’t hint that he is looking for more from me either. More commitment, more sex, or more respect. In fact, he always waits for me to message first before replying.

I love how intimate and cute our exchanges feel. I don’t feel unsafe with him because he’s far away. But even if he was standing next to me, I knew I wouldn’t be scared of him.

Y/N: It’s unfair that you know what flowers I like, but I don’t know your favorite.

Harry: Orchids.

Y/N: Expensive and rare. Suits a rich alpha like you.

Harry: Was that a compliment?

Y/N: You’re an alpha. You don’t need compliments. You have a natural superiority complex.

Harry: I need your compliments, Y/N. My inner wolf is hungry for your praise.

My heart skips a beat more and more. He’s always so sweet and genuine when he texts. And he’s that way in real life too. I know because I’ve met him.

A week passes and he doesn’t stop sending me flowers. But the part that really breaks me is that he never asks me again about going to dinner with him. He waits for me to bring it up. He trusts me to not have forgotten my stupid omega brain.

I make him miserable for another week before giving in to his charm and steadfastness.

I mean, I couldn’t resist forever, not when he has shown that he can respect my boundaries multiple times. By denying him means that I’m only denying myself something I’ve always dreamed about, which is being taken care of by someone who cherishes me.

So I was immediately on board when Harry said he wanted to wine and dine me and take me shopping.

Y/N: Hypothetically speaking, where would you wine and dine me?

Harry: Wherever you pick.

Y/N: I’ll let you pick.

Harry: What kind of food do you like?

I don’t even blink when he asks me for my preference before showing off his knowledge regarding the best restaurants in town.

I have come to expect consideration from him. And that’s dangerous.

We’re sex partners at best, and strangers at worst. What if I never find an alpha who will treat me as well as Harry? He’s ruining me for everyone else when I know I can’t have him. He’s a wolf shifter, which means he’ll only settle down with his fated mate. I’m just a temporary woman until he meets his forever love.

I’ve never envied a woman as much as I envy Harry’s future wife. Omega or not, she’ll be so well cared for by her protective husband.

After we text back and forth, he invites me to a restaurant I’ve never heard of. When I look it up online, it turns out to be an exclusive place catering to a high-end clientele. They only take reservations from people who are on their approved list. Since the establishment allows alphas, omegas, betas, and everything in between, I’m worried about an unmated alpha scenting me and trying to be aggressive.

I mean, I’m certain they have ways to prevent such incidents. They have to preserve their reputation. Plus, Harry will be with me. I don’t know why, but my body knows he’ll never let me be harmed in his presence.

The day of our so-called dinner date arrives quickly. Harry must have made time for me because he invited me out on a weekday night. Thursday night, to be specific. When we met at his hotel room last time, it was a Thursday too. I calculate that it has been almost three weeks since he first came into my life.

He has turned my world upside down in a few days and made me reconsider everything I thought I knew about alphas.

I can’t wait to peel back his layers and discover more about him. I’m usually disinterested in all men, but Harry has me intrigued—as a person though, not as a sexual partner.

Despite Harry’s vehement protests, I assured him that I’d be fine making my way to the restaurant on my own. I put on my sexiest outfit. A red body con dress with a deep neckline that shows off my perky massive boobs. I want to keep him squirming throughout.

Since the restaurant is in a crowded area, I take the subway.

There are special areas for omegas in the subway so I don’t have to worry about any unwanted attention.

I get off at the station closest to our date spot, but I’m immediately lost. Even after checking my phone, I still end up walking in circles. Worry lines dig into my forehead when I turn around and realize I’ve walked into a deserted alley.

At this time of a weekday, there are not many people here. Most of them have gone home from work. Darkness and shadows twist around the streets, broken up by a few streetlights.

My stomach cramps. At first, I dismiss it as an overreaction. However, it turns out to be a premonition.

“You smell delicious, sugar.”

I arc back at the unfamiliar voice.

It’s a man. Not a human man though. He also stinks of power and entitlement. An alpha shifter.

I quickly reach inside my purse for the pepper spray. But before my thumb forces the nozzle down, the alpha knocks it out of my hand.

“Now what do you need that for?” He’s so close to me. His rancid breath lashes against my face. “I’m going to take good care of your pretty cunt. You’ll feel so good. A tight omega cunt for my dick.”

Anxiety spikes in my chest. I try to move to pick up the fallen pepper spray, but he’s too strong. His muscles are like shackles closing around my wrists. He gains on me, pressing me against the brick wall and caging me with his limbs. I move and resist, but it’s of no use.

“You can’t do this.” I say as he tries to force a kiss on me. “I have a boyfriend. He’s an alpha.”

Harry is not my boyfriend, but alphas are always more careful around other alphas. Knowing that I have Harry is a relief.

The man who is trying to sexually assault me chuckles. “Can smell no alpha on you, sugar. When was the last time you got laid? If he can’t keep your slutty omega body satisfied, maybe it’s time you switched to someone else.”

It has been three weeks since Harry last came inside me. Alpha pheromones only linger for a day or two. I wish I had given in and slept with him last week.

“Let me go. This is illegal.” My throat swells with anger and helplessness. I ended up saying something I never thought I would. “I love my boyfriend. I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“Love?” The alpha is laughing like he has lost his sanity. “Omega bitches don’t love, sugar. They only crave alpha dick. They spread their legs for the richest and most powerful alpha who can put them in their place and put a baby in their needy wombs.”

“Omegas fall in love too.” I protest. My eyes are misting with tears. My rage is boiling over. I don’t care if I look weak and emotional. I can’t hold back all the hatred I’ve felt for alphas all these years. Alphas like this guy think they are Gods, but what they are is a disgrace. “I love him. And if you think you’re an alpha just because you’re strong, you’re just a weak man with a broken ego. A real alpha has a big heart. They’re self-controlled, generous, and protective. Not rapists.”

“Shut up—”

I recoil when he raises his hand at me. I wait for the slap to make contact with my cheek. I thought I’d forgotten it, but I still remember the sting of my father’s hand. He hit me every time I refused to go along with his plans. I used to fear him and his strength until I realized that he was even more helpless than me. He could never make me obey and he knew he could never make me love him. My mother had left him too. She was a beautiful omega who had shacked up with a richer alpha and divorced his ass.

Suddenly, I’m broken free from my thoughts by an animalistic growl. And there’s a wolf—a majestic animal with gray fur—in the alley.

Before I can wonder where it came from, it lunges at my rapist. Its claws tear off a chunk of his face as it rips his body away from mine. The man falls to the ground, bleed and bruised.

The wolf narrows its eyes at me, approaching me carefully. I’m already pasted against the wall with nowhere to run.

Is the animal going to attack me too? I know it’s a shifter, but I’m not sure how much rationality shifters retain in their animal form.

Wait. Maybe it is Harry?

Could it be him? He’s a werewolf shifter, isn’t he?

It takes all my courage to reach out and caress the animal’s fur.

“You saved me.” I say. “Thank you.”

The wolf’s ears flop down and it licks my hand, encouraging me to keep stroking its head. I think it likes being petted. I find that so adorable.

“What a good wolf.” I coo. “So handsome and strong.”

The wolf howls.

I love wolves. They’re like dogs, but fiercer. The animal’s light green eyes peer into mine. We communicate silently, forging an invisible bond. I know this wolf will remember me and I will definitely remember it.

The sound of my sexual assaulter getting up breaks our eye contact. The wolf leaves my side to slam its claws down on the man’s body.

My rapist howls in pain. He gives the wolf a dirty look. “Who are you?”

At that moment, the wolf’s form dissolves. It rearranges back into a human. I’ve never seen a man shift before, but it’s over in a flash so I don’t get to observe any details.

Then Harry’s there, standing in front of me with one foot on my rapist’s chest.

“Me? I’m the boyfriend she loves.” He replies, giving me a side-eye.

My face goes up in flames. I can’t believe he heard that. What if he thinks I meant it?

The rapist makes an inaudible noise.

“Don’t worry. I called the police.” Harry informs the other alpha. “They’ll throw your ass in prison so you won’t have to stay in this cold alley for long.”

He swivels and walks to me, placing his hands on my hips. “Y/N, I swear, I was ready to commit murder. You should have let me pick you up. You’re mine. Only my hands belong on your body.”

He bares his teeth. His eyebrows are too thick like he’s still an animal. I sense that it’s the wolf that’s talking to me. The wolf I sensed a mysterious connection with.

Harry grips me hard like he’s trying to make me stay. His touch on me is bruising, but in the best way possible. I feel owned. Roughly claimed.

I love Harry’s inner animal. His spirit wolf is intense and possessive. Despite my reservations, I fall in love with this part of him immediately. After all, animals don’t have ulterior motives, only instincts. They only attack when threatened. There’s no malice or cruelty in their hearts.

“Let’s get you away from here.” Harry scoops me up in his arms, nuzzling my face with his nose.

I’m still trembling from the aftershocks of being harassed by an alpha. “How did you know to find me here?”

“I could smell you.” Harry replies, scrunching his nose. “Your scent is strong today. I could pick up on it even though I wasn’t close.”

I sniff my underarms, wondering what he’s on about. My stomach clenches. The throbbing between my legs is growing. I’m hot.

I finally understand what the stomach cramps from earlier meant. It wasn’t a premonition. It was my body’s natural cycle staking its claim on my sexual organs.

Harry’s pupils are dilated. He senses it too.

“Shit.” His eyebrows are knitted together in distress. All the hairs on his body are standing up in response to the potent scent that’s coming from my hot pussy.

I crumple his collar between my needy fingers. “Harry, I’m going into heat.”

┈ㆍ┈ㆍ⨯ * ₊ ୨ ♡ ୧ ₊ * ⨯ㆍ┈ㆍ┈

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