#omega cycles

[vintagepromotions]

Poster advertising Omega bicycles, featuring a young man smoking a pipe while riding a bicycle (c. 1920). Artwork by Albert Dorfinant.

[archiveofblue]

omega cycles. batik on cotton after Henri Thiriet, 2017(?)

[shamrockqueen]

Omega retreat chapter 11

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader

Warnings : R18, breaking boundaries, references to sex, Bucky being bad, breaking Bucky

Word count : 1716

First chapter : Previous chapter

Bucky masterlist

Summary: As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

This pairing felt so right. It was a gut feeling that Bucky had, taking root, growing quickly, and overtaking any of the few doubts that had buzzed around like annoying little gnats. Now his certainty was thick and lush, like intruding ivy, digging into grout to burrow its little rootlets further into his frontal lobe, and throwing him further and further in love with you.

He waited, watching you nearly drift to sleep and happily disrupting your onset of slumber with a small tug of his hard knot until it began to go down and he could reluctantly pull free.

A small caress to your cheek, the brush of his dry knuckle along your damp skin as he trailed it down your neck. For now he’d won, successfully wracking your body through a joint-bending orgasm and staving off a whirlwind of heat.

His fingers trailed down the warm plains of your bare body, reaching for your shaking hands before locking them in his grasp to pull you from your perch on the small dining table.

You cling to his chest, grappling at the loose buttons of his flannel from where you tried to claw it from his body. You nearly missed a soft purr that rumbled from his hard chest as you cuddled against his neck as he two-stepped you towards the soft bed in the adjoining room. There wasn’t any other place more comfortable for you to crawl onto except to be blanketed by him.

It’s another pang against his weakened defenses, but even as his arms tightened around your smaller body and he groaned against your hair, he fought again to remain in control. You feel his shoulders stiffen but remain oblivious to the way his face seemed to darken. That edging of his body lingered, leaving his back tense as he pulled you from the table. You brush it off as his muscles flex as he lifts you up and carries you away to the bed to curl you into the blankets.

You reach out to grab at him and pull him to the bed with you, but he needs to attend to something first. He smiled down at your deepening pout, pulling at your wet lips, humming back dirty sentiment.

“Not afraid of fucking raw then? I wouldn’t have expected something like that from such a shy omega.”

He pinched at your reddened cheek, only to be met with a missed bite towards his retreating digits. It was a hungry fire he hadn’t expected to see but was very excited to find.

When your flames seemed to dim to a soft glow, you smiled up at him and spoke sweetly.

“We don’t need to worry about that, Alpha.”

Things can be said in the heat of the moment, something rumbling from a baser instinct. You’d spoken of protection over the phone, but you had a feeling it would fall by the wasteside. The chalky little contraceptive in your belly would serve to suit that purpose instead.

Bucky’s eyebrows were quirked before he asked, “Oh, why’s that?”

“I made sure to take the pill.” You said, lazily lowering your head to his shoulder as you began to drift.

Like a star, you burned furious and bright, only to fizzle and cool against your new lover’s body. Your brief moment of clarity would be his absolute undoing.

"Such-a smart girl, thinkin ahead like that.” You missed the subtle grinding of his back teeth as he whispered against your hair.

“Mm, thank you, Alpha.” You purred back, oblivious and happy.

He should have known better that this instant connection would have to be dragged along more slowly than he’d hoped. He’d lost his patience, and you’d made him believe that maybe you hadn’t had any either.

Everything had been allowed to move so quickly, nearly break-neck speed, and Bucky was more than willing to welcome it. Maybe too willing. Clearly there was more to you than he had originally learned, and your agenda quite possibly didn’t match his own.

His aggression is lidded, letting the steam fill every chamber as he digests your last few words. He tries to think, but each thought is racing around his head with a pulse of pain. Until he has one single thought that speaks aloud above all others.

He leaned in, standing over you to give you a soft, demanding kiss, wet lips locking as his tongue tapped your teeth before he pulled away and padded off towards the bathroom. Your hands grappled with him at first to keep him by your side, only relenting when he gave you a few reassuring words.

“Just a minute, Omega. I’ll be right back, ok?”

You nodded lazily before letting your head fall back on the soft pillows.

He’s shaking by the time he pushes past the threshold of the small bathroom, barely maintaining his much-needed restraint. Surely it was only the alpha that rattled its chains within him that was angry at this news. Surely, his true self would let you dance with him at your own pace instead of demanding submission.

He prided himself on being a loving man, an understanding man, a respectful man. He was still in control, not the Alpha inside.

He’d closed his eyes so as to center himself, his face pulling into a pinched expression. He let his surroundings fade in as he slowly cracked his eyes open, taking in the dim light of the bathroom before his narrowed pupils landed on a small floral bag perched on the granite sink.

It was the only piece of luggage to have been carried this far into the cabin. A little hygiene bag that was, no doubt, filled with toiletries, makeup,...and medication.

It held your betrayal, your means of evading him. He glared down at the insignificant tote as if it had the capacity to mock him.

The back and forth with these young omegas was a game Bucky used to play willingly, but times have changed. He wasn’t a young man anymore, and some more drastic measures may have to be made so he could finally settle down. He wanted to be a good man to such a wonderful woman like you, but he was done with being disappointed.

He couldn’t risk letting you slip through his fingers, and he wouldn’t let a pill the size of his pinky tip stand in his way.

He hooked his nail onto one of the zippers, pulling it open just a slit to be easily widened by his fingers. He carefully invaded your unsuspecting border as you slept, slipping his hand into the bag while pushing the sides further open for him to see into deep black fabric.

He felt the guilt and the regret each second he spent to find your source of power against him, his stomach tightening when he had them between his fingers.

His knees tried to lock, keeping him from moving away from the bag as he stared at the little white pills.

He could ask himself as to how he fought not to bite her, while at the same time he isn’t able to defeat this. His inner alpha had become a familiar opponent. Denying himself the things he’d desired the most was far too commonplace, and those would be the straw that broke his back. Your subtle betrayal.

Maybe if he kept you satiated, acting as a riptide barely keeping you afloat long enough for a breath of air, you wouldn’t notice your contraception was missing.

You’d be none the wiser if anything took, blissfully unaware of the seeds he may have planted.

The higher pitch of your needy whine cracked through his brain fog. The sound of you calling him back to bed, no doubt sweaty and ravenous like you had been before. It gave his conscious self time to peak through, only for his inner monster to squeeze past it towards your sweet siren call.

“Just a minute." He growled back, his teeth clacking together tightly as he gripped the sink with one hand, and that little silvery pack crinkled in the other.

He tore his hand from the sink and grabbed at the lid to the latrine before flipping it up with a clatter of porcelain.

His thumb pressed against the little white menace before it popped out of the foil and fell to the still water below. He stared at the empty bubble, feeling a better part of himself tear away and fade into obscurity as he chose to push another pill out. Then another, and another, 5, 6, 7, 8, until all the little pills were left floating precariously in the water.

He looked down at an irreparable offense as the little white souls seemed to cling to one another before their sterile lagoon began to swirl and swish, sucking them down into its whirlpool with a sputter as the commode was flushed.

Bucky hadn’t seen his arm move towards the trigger; he hadn’t noticed that he’d pushed the handle down until all your birth control was sucked away, out of sight but no further out of his mind. He’d successfully knocked away a barrier he’d found between you, feeling all the more lowly for having done so. Would you forgive him if you knew what he’d done only a second ago?

After the short amount of time you spent getting to know one another, moving quickly in terms of relationship wants, needs, and desires. Yet, he still held secrets, and he was sure you did as well. There would always be more to learn, and he wanted every morsel of your mind and soul now.

You made him so greedy that even this small amount of yourself he was denied made him throw this awful fit.

Once he’d left the bathroom, foil packet crumpled in his fist, he’d tried to justify his previous actions to himself. He did his best to hide the evidence under some food garbage in the kitchen, all while you blindly scented the air in search of him.

Your whimper calling for him was like a hard hammer coming down to crack his heart, and as he returned to your embrace in the twisted blankets, he had to bury his face against your sweaty skin to better busy his mind.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, tell me what you think. I’m trying to get my mojo back after what feels like forever since I last posted anything. I’m trying to find time to write…key word trying😅

Tags : @meowmeowyoongles @black-cat-2 @cjand10 @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @magnoliamermaid @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @iwudbutnah @winterslove1917 @daddytonysgirl17 @jvanilly @kandis-mom @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault @nicestgirlonline @jbuckybarnesfan @val-writesstuff @ozwriterchick @mandab44 @cringeycookies @ragin-cajun-fangirl @bohemianrhapsody86 @lillianacristina @cadencejames87 @teambarnes72 @ashychangeling @samuelkwinchester @nightofthesea @blackbirdwitch22 @mizunogamii @snapcapquartet @openup-yourmind @ashychangeling @krissydclayton93 @rivernell @futuristiczipperpeachcash @toomanyfandomsshreya @spn-obession

Tags added in comments (50 is the cap) : @whumptastic-world

[remember-to-be-gentle]

Inspired by this tumblr post by @hawnks 

Subject: JJK, Satoru Gojo

Title: Hate Me Tomorrow (Omega!Gojo x GN Alpha!Reader)

Trigger Warning: Dub con, omega verse, scenting, size difference, biting/marking, obsessive/toxic behavior, self-hatred, knotting, knot riding, begging, heat/mating cycles, grinding 

The sweet, musky scent of Gojo's cologne and sweat enveloped you. Even the giant stuffed beta fish you were snuggling had no scent but his. His pillow fort was surprisingly spacious, granted, Gojo was nearly twice your size so there was a lot of him to fit. But being in here with him was nearly suffocating, and not just because of the light whiffs of omega scent rolling off of him or because he'd practically ripped off your jacket to snuggle into. 

He'd called you suddenly, saying that he needed to spend time with someone. It made sense. Geto just died and there were only so many people who were willing to pick up the phone for Gojo, and even fewer he'd actually call. Especially when it was a secret he was an omega, pretending to be an alpha and you were an alpha pretending to be a beta. 

The two of you were decent friends, hanging out after teaching at Jujutsu Tech for a drink or a quick round of gossip. He was one of the few people who knew you were an alpha and he an omega, an unusual kinship formed but it was never anything more. More importantly, you knew about his relationship with Geto. You couldn't say no. 

Which was why your thigh was snug against his, smartphone balanced on your knee, his favorite plushie shoved into your arms. His head on your shoulder breathes fast but not uneven. It seemed like he was trying not to cry. Poor guy. The winter fashion review didn't seem to be helping him calm down at all. Nor any work gossip. You wanted to stay and help, but it was getting late. If he really wanted to, he could just pin you down, sometimes that thought scared you.

Gojo curled onto his side, struggling closer to you, your jacket wrapped in his hands like a security blanket. 

It felt wrong to leave, but you needed to take care of yourself, too. "Hey, bud, I need to get going. Are you going to be alright by yourself?" 

Gojo buried his face in your neck, silent. He leaned his weight into you, just enough to make it clear he didn't want to be alone. 

Fuck. "I'm sorry. I'll come first thing tomorrow. We'll call out from work and go to the city or--" 

His teeth scraped your neck. Possessive, dominant. Alpha behavior. Before you knew what was happening, he was ripping off your scent suppressor, inhaling like he hadn't been breathing for hours. Alpha pheromones leaked from your skin, invading your nose. "Gojo?" 

Your stomach turned as your instincts awakened, the need to comfort an omega struggling with your own needs for autonomy. Your fingers dug into the beta fish plushie, filled with his scent. 

He reached for his own scent blocker and you suddenly realized what was going on. With his neck practically right under your nose, his omega scent was free. And not just that, he was going into heat. The pillow fort was a nest and this was a trap. Gojo was primed to breed and he was going to use you to fuck away his pain. "This isn't healthy, Gojo, listen to me!" 

But his patch was already off and the omega scent of him in your lungs, filling you, lighting every nerve on fire. Your cock swelled under your clothes, reacting to his breedable scent with vigor. 

Gently, Gojo took the plush and pushed you onto your back, yanking off his pants as his pale face filled with color. His bandages were already slipping, the iridescent shine of his six eyes laser-focused on the swelling at your crotch. He crawled on top of you, already tugging off his shirt. "Just for today, please." He panted, his thin but muscular chest heaving as if just sitting here breathing was a near-impossible task. 

His weight lowered onto your cock and you gasped, feeling his wetness through your clothes. His heat was so pleasant, feverish but warm, empty, and yearning. Blood pulsed lower and you gulped. 

Slowly, Gojo rocked back and forth, moaning loudly each time your shaft met his clit. His back arched, nipples swollen and pink, and standing at attention. "Please," he begged. "Just me just for tonight. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please, ah, Y/N. Please, I wanna cum. Let me have it inside me." 

It was getting harder and harder to think straight. He felt so good, the need to fill him up, let him fuck himself stupid on your cock growing. It would be better if you let him, a voice whispered. Another said, it's what you were made for. Just let him. 

"Gojo," you gasped. You reached for him, tried to make him stop so you could think, but his fingers intertwined with yours and he was moving faster now, his breathy moans coming faster. His skin was so soft and warm, filling you with his heat until you thought you might burst. Blood pulsed in your cock, his pussy was sucking at you through your clothing. He wanted you so badly. You wanted... What did you want to do again? You had to leave but why? 

"Y/N, I'm cumming." His hips rocked faster, tummy rolling with downy white hair covered in sparkling slick. "I'm cumming on your alpha cock." He let go of your hands to lay across your stomach, his head buried in your neck to take in your scent, his own making your head spin as pleasure threatened to burst out of your cock. His teeth met your skin, nibbling and biting gently then hard enough to bruise until he let out a long, throaty groan as he came. 

Instantly, your clothes were soaked, his hot slick smothered on your member. If you weren't fully erect before, you were now. 

Still panting, Gojo lifted himself up just enough to tug your cock free from your clothing. He didn't wait, spreading his pussy with his fingers as he sank down on your tip. Slick gushed down your shaft as he cried out, swallowing your swollen head into his heat. You bit back a groan, fingers digging into the blankets making up the fort. 

"You feel so big," Gojo moaned. "So good. I've only done this with Geto, so I'm going to have to start slow." He sank a little further, impossibly tight and hot and wet. "Feels so good," he huffed, rolling his hips and finally, sinking all the way down your shaft.

Your knot throbbed, seeming to sense that an omega was speared on your length. 

Gojo humped himself on your cock, needy moans slipping from his mouth each time his hips met yours. "Feels so good, Y/N. I've only felt Geto like this before." 

Before you could respond he pulled back to his full height, six eyes glowing in the warm darkness of the pillow fort. He spread his lower lips as he lifted himself up, clear slick drooling from his hole. His pretty, pink, clit a shining pearl at the apex of his thighs. "You did this to me. Look how wet you made me." Slowly, Gojo slid back down, pushing the head of your cock against his cervix. Again, he kept himself exposed and rose up, only to slurp your length right back down to the knot, aiming this time higher, into something spongy and mouth-wateringly soft.

"G-Gojo, I know you miss him but you can't--" 

He raised himself up and dropped down, knocking a groan from you both. "I think about him a lot," Gojo panted. "About how empty he left me. In my soul. In my body. So please, let me fix one of those. Just for now. It's okay if you hate me, but I need you now more than I've needed anyone." 

Gojo whined, flushed and excited. "Right there." He slammed back down on you with a stomach-churning squelch right into that soft sweet spot. "So good." He was riding you now, using you like a dildo to get himself off, his delicate fingers rolling his clit in circles. You couldn't take your eyes off him. "I want you to cum inside me, okay? Fill me up with your seed. Help me feel less empty." 

Pleasure gathered deep inside you, begging to come out as your knot swelled. Shit. You shouldn't. He was your coworker, your friend. But omegas needed alpha seed, he needed reprieve from his heat and you were the only one he could call--because the person he really wanted was dead. 

That thought shattered your high, grounding you back in the moment. "Gojo, I know you're still mourning Geto, but this isn't healthy for you." 

Gojo settled on your stomach, chest heaving. His hands snuck under your shirt, impossibly soft and warm in your skin. Your cock twitched inside him, wanting him to squeeze and milk you dry but that wasn't what a good friend would let him do. 

"I killed him, you know." His hands curled into fists by your hips. "He left me after taking my virginity and when he came back, I killed him on Christmas Eve because he didn't give me another choice. I'm awful, aren't I? Shoko hates me. She won't say it but I know she does. I hate me, too." The blue of his eyes shone as tears gathered, threatening to fall down his red flushed cheeks. 

"Shoko doesn't hate you." You said soothingly. You sat up, so much smaller than him, and ran your hands through his hair. "It was an impossible situation, we all think you did the right thing. We--" 

He didn't let you finish your thought. Gojo grabbed you by your shirt and slammed his mouth onto yours, his tongue filling you as if he could make you swallow every hateful thing he'd ever thought about himself. "If you don't hate me," he breathed against your lips, his spit wet and warm as it dribbled down your chin, "then cum inside me." He rolled his hips, reigniting the electric pleasure in your core. "Please. You can hate me tomorrow, but right now, I can't let you go." 

The pulsing softness of his pussy contracted, squeezing you so tightly you thought you might burst. You gasped for breath when Gojo released you and then did it again. You wanted to move. You wanted to stop. You wanted... 

Gojo pulled down the front of your shirt, rolling his hips roughly, chasing his end against your cock. He bit your chest, hard enough to bruise, marking you like an alpha. And that was enough to come undone. 

You exploded inside of him, eyes rolling back as your core emptied against his sweet spot. Your hips rolled up into his and you shivered as you felt your knot pop into his pussy, slick sliding down your thighs and onto the blankets. 

You struggled to breathe as Gojo laid himself on top of you, breathing fast. He rocked his hips against your knot, already trying to drag another orgasm out of himself. His arms slid under your back, pulling your chest to his. "You're all I have now, Y/N," he whispered, "so please, don't leave.”

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Thank you for all your work.

You think this would be easy to find, but somehow I keep missing it.

Omegaverse!AU, Stiles is an omega about to go through his heat. Scott asks his roommate Derek if he would help Stiles out with his heat. Derek, who has a crush on Stiles, agrees.

There's a scene where Stiles' heat starts early, and he's not able to open the front door, so Derek climbs in through the window. In another scene, in his heat haze, Stiles pretends he's a shark swimming under the blanket.

i anon! @wolfandravenrecs says it's this one.

Of Sharks and Lighter Things by SylvieW

(1/1 I 5,598 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles’ medications are messing up his body chemistry. If he goes off his suppressants, he’ll have to go through his heat, but he doesn’t know any alphas who’d help him. So, Scott asks his roommate Derek. Turns out Derek's more than willing to lend a hand.

[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghoaptober # 3

Prompt: Hurt

Words: 5100~

TW: Distressing/Negative Sexual Experiences, Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Restraints, Intersex Omegas (NOT sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

Please note that all the Distressing/Negative Sexual Experiences are not between Ghost and Soap. I think this one is right on the line for dub-con, so proceed with caution if that's something that might trigger you. If this is missing any trigger warning please do let me know!

I've always had an itch to subvert the 'omega desperately needs to get fucked during their heat' trope, so I honestly shouldn't be so surprised that this one got away from me like it did.

Enjoy!

As an omega, Soap had started preparing for his heat a good month in advance, he’d gathered up his favourite nesting blankets and made sure they were freshly laundered, he’d scouted a good Heat-Hotel that was nearby and booked a room, he’d even secured a partner. Some of the other omegas on base had been touting this new matcher app, that they’d reportedly had massive success with, so Soap had decided to give it a whirl and signed up. What’s the worst that could happen, he was no doubt better trained than any of the civvies he’d be meeting up with. 

He’d been talking to an alpha named Dominic Wilckes and when the subject of his heat had come up, Dominic had asked if Soap was looking for a partner. With no reason to say no, Soap had said yes. He’s spent heats with and without partners before, and found accompanied heats to be much more manageable. 

Soap was in his room at the Heat-Hotel now, securing a layer of waterproof Heat-Sheets over his carefully arranged nest. When his heat was spiking he didn’t care, but when he was in a lull or was coming down, he hated having his nest being a messy, sticky, uncomfortable, ruined heap of blankets. So he’d learned how to weave a sturdy nest and had invested in specialty sheets that would keep it clean. 

His phone buzzed rapidly on the table, it was Dominic.

“here”

“safe n sOund solotions?”

“in the lobby”

“whr r u”

Dominic was a nice guy, but Soap could admit that the way he texted was a bit annoying. Having his messages open to send Dominic the room number reminded him that he hadn’t texted Ghost yet. He pulled up his location and sent it to his Lieutenant along with a quick text,

“At Safe & Sound Solutions, Room 348, Booked for three days, Should be back Tuesday.”

His message showed as being read within the minute and while he was waiting to see if Ghost would reply another message came in from Dominic,

“come down”

Soap reread the message, why would he need to go down to the lobby? Maybe there was an issue Dominic needed help with? Confused, but willing to help, Soap texted back a quick ‘On my way.’ and headed out, his riled instincts insisting he double and triple check that he’d locked the door to his room. That he made sure his nest was safe from intruders.

In the lobby, Soap found Dominic leaning up against the wall next to the lifts with a bag at his feet. Walking over, he tried to spot where the problem was. 

“Dominic? Whit’s wrong?” Soap questioned,

“Hey, John. Some of the people were giving me weird looks. I needed you to come to show them I’m not some creep hanging around for nothing.” Dominic stood from his lean and stepped into Soap’s space, bringing his arm up to rub a wrist over Soap’s nape. Scenting him. Soap let him, tilting his shoulders so the other man wouldn’t accidentally brush his mating glands, they got heinously sensitive when he was heating.  

“Oh, alrigh’,” Soap privately thought that Dominic was overthinking it, if anyone was looking at him weird it was for loitering around in the lobby, but not actually sitting in any of the many chairs scattered throughout. The lobby of every Heat-Hotel that Soap had ever visited always looked like Moses had called a plague of plush chintzy furniture down upon them. 

Soap led Dominic back into the lift, pressing the button for his floor. A chime from his phone brought his attention to the fact that Ghost had replied, he’d reacted to Soap’s message with a thumbs up and had sent back,

“Rog.” 

Ghost had a habit of reading his notifications as soon as he could, but often didn’t have the time to actually reply until later. 

“Who’s that?” Dominic asked, peeking over Soap’s arm to get a look at the screen. 

Soap locked his phone, the smile that had pulled up the corners of his mouth falling away. 

“Mah L.T. He likes tae know every’hings guid.” Soap replies, watching the numbers of the lift ding over to his floor and stepping out as the doors parted.

“Your L.T? What’s that?” Dominic crowded up against his back as he tried to finagle the keycard into scanning properly and unlocking the door. 

“Mah Lieutenant.” Soap pulls the door flush closed, grips the handle to make sure it’s sitting straight, then tries sliding the keycard through at a snail's pace. The light flashes green and he whips the door open before it can change its mind, sending a silent thanks out to Price for teaching him how to sweet-talk card readers. 

“Oh yeah. You're in some kinda military army thing right?” Dominic’s realization carried a strange tone of praise. 

“Yeah, U.K.S.F,” Soap clocks Dominics blank gaze and spells it out for him before he can ask, “United Kingdom Special Forces,”

A light comes on behind Dominic’s eyes, but a skeptical look crinkles his nose. “But can’t only U.K citizens join?” 

It's Soap’s turn to stare blankly, “Aye?” the answer carries a subtext of ‘you dumbass’ that Soap couldn’t have stopped if there were hostages at stake.

Soap watches Dominic’s confused look intensify. Good, they could be confused together.

“But aren’t you Irish?” 

“Nae!” Soap refutes, that idea in need of immediate culling, “Ah’m no' Irish. Ah’m a fuckin’ Scot!”

“Oh, I didn’t know Scottish people could join the British army?” 

Soap searches Dominic's face for any sign that he’s joking, Dominic looks earnestly back at him. 

Jesus Christ.

He’s not joking. 

“Scotland’s a par’ ae the U.K,” Soap says hesitantly, leadingly, begging Dominic to spend one brain cell on remembering his First Year geography lessons.

“Oh, Alright.” Dominic shrugs in a ‘whatever you say’ manner, that makes Soap think he’s doing it more to drop the conversation than he actually believes what he’s been told, “Are you already set up? When does your heat kick in?”

Dominic glances around the room, looking over Soap’s preparations, dropping his bag off his shoulder onto the desk pressed against the wall. Why a Heat-Hotel thought its room's occupants might need a desk, was the true mystery of the night. 

Soap shakes himself free of the disbelief clogging his brain, and checked his watch, “Wi’hin the ‘our, mebbe twen’y minutes?” 

Dominic shoots him an odd look again, clearly thinking something over.

“Whit? Whit’s wrong?” Soap glances around himself, but nothing looks wrong to him.

“Your accent’s cute, John, but it’s a bit hard to understand you. You know?” Dominic's tone is assured, almost complimentary, “It’s gonna be hard to know what you want if I can’t understand you.” He coaxes, like a parent reasoning with their toddler to not bite electrical cables. Like it’s what was best for everyone.

Baffled, Soap stares at him. He’s never gotten flak about his accent from his previous partners, everyone else had seemed to enjoy it. At least, Soap had thought they’d enjoyed it. 

“Aye,” Soap swallows hard, his stomach roiling “Eh- Uh- Yes. I can- Um- I’ll try tae- to speak,” Flustered, Soap stutters through his answer as he tries to flatten his accent, “I’ll try to speak more clearly.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Dominic nods at him, “Now,” he slaps at his own thighs, “Where are we setting up? On the bed?” He walks over to the bed, toting his bag, and starts rummaging through the nightstands, “They don’t have anything here, it's a good thing I brought my own stuff.” 

Soap eyes him as he approaches the nest, wincing as his tossed bag knocks free a carefully stacked pillow. Dominic clatters around a bit more, checking the minifridge and all the drawers in the desk. 

“Where’s your stuff?” He turns back to Soap.

Soap points wordlessly at the gutted dufflebag he’d carried his blankets over in. 

“Oh, you don’t use toys? A good omega? Like whining on your fingers instead?” Dominic’s voice dripped with sudden lascivious intent, he dropped his head to eye Soap through his lashes, licking his lips and petting his hands over his bag, “That’s okay, baby. Alpha will take care of you. I’ll give you everything you need.”

Soap inhaled shakily. He must not laugh. If he laughed he’d be out of a heat partner and his instincts would insist on him moving the nest. If he moved rooms he’d have to update Ghost. Ghost would worry about why he moved rooms and insist on checking on him. If his L.T came within one city block of him when he was on his heat Soap was dragging that alpha into his nest and not letting him leave. Soap did not want his L.T to write him up for fraternization. 

He must not laugh. 

“Oh yeah?” Soap eked out. Dominic must take the breathiness of his voice to be anticipation as his look only grew more seductive. 

“Yeah, baby. Come get comfy in your nest and Alpha will show you the presents he brought.” Dominic pats a hand on the nest, then gives it a surprised glance, “These are the blankets you want? They’re not very soft.”

Soap explains about how he doesn’t like his nest getting dirty as he crawls up onto the bed, petting a proprietary hand over his nest. It’s not like the blankets were scratchy terrycloth or anything, they were Heat-Sheets, they were made specifically for heats, they wouldn’t sell if they weren’t comfortable. 

“Here,” Dominic reached forward and Soap frantically knocks the hand away before it could tear into his nest. The judging look that Dominic shot him was completely uncalled for. What kind of psycho fucks with an omega’s nest. 

“What?” Dominic furrows his eyebrows at the omega, “I was just gonna show you a better way to do it. You could put a soft sheet on top, so you’re not laying on something so rough. I know omegas are super sensitive about that kinda stuff.”

“Nae- No. No, it’s fine like this. Thank you, Dominic.” Soap assures, sliding over to sit on the bed directly in front of Dominic, firmly between his nest and the alpha. 

After eyeing him for a moment longer, Dominic shugs and turns back to his bag, muttering something about omegas being so picky under his breath. 

“I got you that water you like,” he says, pulling three one-litre bottles of Volvic mineral water out of his bag and setting them on the nightstand. Soap felt warmed and a touch shocked, he’d only mentioned that he likes Volvic best in passing. The warm feeling vanished when the next item Dominic pulled from his bag of tricks was a tall omegaen guard-collar.

“I know it’s usually that alphas wear muzzles for heats and omegas wear collars for ruts, but the skin on my face is super sensitive and I’ll get a rash if I wear a muzzle,” Dominic explained, handing over the collar when Soap hesitantly reached for it. 

It was made of good thick leather, fastening with two buckles in the back instead of a cheap zipper. The things that were throwing Soap off were that it was much taller than the typical guard-collar, how it flared out at the bottom to cover over his trapeziuses, and the four D-rings spaced around its middle. It honestly looked more like a posture-collar. 

“I was looking into the failure rate of guard-collars and this one has amazing reviews and no accidental bites,” Dominic supplies, tapping at the collar in Soap's hands, “Do you need help putting it on?”

Soap absently nods, not really processing what’s being said to him, and finds the contraption out of his hands and strapped around his neck within two heartbeats. Hands coming up to scrabble at the new pressure squishing his mating glands Soap gives a startled yelp and Dominic quickly grabs his hands. Shushing and cooing at him, giving his hands a firm squeeze when he tries to pull away. 

“It’s alright, omega. You’re doing so well.” Tuning out Dominic's crooning, Soap focused on calming his breathing.

In for four, hold for four, out for four. In for four, hold for four, out for four.

With his breath under control, Soap can admit that the collar isn’t as restrictive as he’d feared, he can breathe fine, and turn his head. Looking down or up presses a bit, but it’s not terrible.

Focusing on himself for a moment also revealed to Soap that he’d been so busy judging Dominic that he’d completely missed his body cresting through pre-heat. Taking another deep breath Soap warns the alpha that he’ll be going into full heat in a minute or two and watches the shocked look take over Dominic's face. It’s not surprising to Soap that Dominic hadn’t noticed, Soap’s scent has never been particularly loud and he’s not throwing himself at the alpha like the needy heat-drunk omegas do in films. 

The next few minutes are admittedly blurry to Soap as his body plunges into full heat, when he comes back to himself he’s face down with his ass up in the air and Dominic is playing between his thighs. By the wetness dripping down his legs Soap guesses that he’s already cum once, that or Dominic drools more than Eas A’  Chual Aluinn. 

Giving a pitching whine, Soap tries to get up onto his elbows and finds that the guard-collar wasn't Dominic’s only gift for him. There are soft leather cuffs secured around his wrists, latched closed with simple carabiners and attached to one of the D-rings of his collar with a short chain. Stopping him from lifting his head more than about twenty centimetres away from his hands and, consequently, the bed. 

“Do- Dominic?” He pants through his confusion and feels the man pull his tongue and what felt like three fingers out of his hole. 

“Back with me, omega? You’re doing so well. Getting so wet for me. Cumming so pretty.” Dominic rumbles, reverent fingers coming back to pet over Soap’s twitching hole. 

Soap pushes back into the touch, feeling achingly empty, his lower belly cramping with the need to be filled. 

“Alpha, please,” he whines “Need your knot, please, please, knot me, ple-”

“Hush.” Dominic commands and the omega’s jaw snaps shut, “I’m not done with you yet, omega. Be quiet and settle down. Take what alpha gives you.” 

Tears prickled behind Soap’s eyes. He got his elbows under himself and lifted his head up off of the nest as far as he could, breathing easier without the blankets in his face. He yelps when hot suction suddenly seals around his cocklet with three fingers plunging back into his hole to bully his sweet spot. Thighs shaking, Soap is pushed into another orgasm, face falling back into the sheets, muffling his squeals when Dominic doesn’t let up. Hard sucks and forceful strokes propelling him through one orgasm and directly into the next. 

His honest yelping coaxes Dominic off his cocklet, “Poor omega,” The alpha croons, petting over his thighs and grabbing at his ass, “So needy. It’s okay, alpha’s here. Alpha will give you what you need.” 

“Knot- Knot me. Alpha, please. Need it.” Soap begs shamelessly, the heat roaring through him stoked by his untied orgasms, his body painfully demanding for him to be knotted and filled.

“I don’t know,” comes Dominic’s teasing reply, leaking more false sympathy than Soap’s hole was leaking slick, “Have you been a good omega? Do you deserve my knot?” 

“Yes, Yes.” Soap nods as much as the collar allows, still careful to smother his accent, “Please, need it.”

“Okay, omega. Alpha will help you.” Dominic’s fingers pull out of him and an actual sob escapes Soap when instead of a cock, he feels a tongue push into his hole. He purposely turns into the sheets to muffle his cries, his instincts rioting and his climbing temperature making him feel sick.

A brief unwelcome stroke over his asshole yanks him from his spiral. His head snaps up, eyes wide and stinging with unshed tears. Did he imagine it? His chest heaves and he freezes perfectly still, staring blankly down at the tangle his nest has become. 

A finger, wet with what he can only assume is his own slick, prods past his rim up to the second knuckle and Soap gives a startled yowl, “Nae! Nae! Donnae do tha!”

“No?” Comes Dominic’s skeptical tease, his free hand squeezing goadingly at Soap’s hip, “My poor Omega doesn't want all his heated holes nice and full?”

Soap frantically shakes his head, lacking words, but filled with denial. Tears knocked loose and coursing unseen down his cheeks.

“Alright,” Dominic agreed, no less skeptical, but slowly withdrawing his finger regardless.

When Soap felt that same finger slide down to line up with his hole’s entrance the omega is willing to admit that he may have come a little unglued.

He snarled, wriggling and kicking back at the alpha, yanking bruises into his wrists in the shape of the cuffs that bound them. Soap managed to thrash his way upright and huddled up against the headboard. Hissing at the flabbergasted alpha knelt at the foot of the bed, giving another throat tearing snarl when Dominic tried to reach for him. His instincts in full control and having decidedly assessed the alpha to be a bad heat partner. 

Keeping his full attention on the man, Soap brought his wrists up and bit open the carabiners, untethering the cuffs from the collar then unfastening the cuffs to slide them off altogether. His freed hands immediately moving behind his neck to unbuckle the collar, fumbling blindly and growling with bared teeth when the alpha made a move towards him. Managing to finagle the first buckle loose, he unhooked the second with much more finesse. Tossing the collar aside, Soap heaved a breath of relief, hands coming up to rub at his sore mating glands, the glands feeling nearly bruised from the constant pressing of the collar. 

“John, Calm down,” Dominic spoke up, voice slow and hesitant, “Everything’s fine, stop freaking out,”

Soap would have liked to close his eyes and regroup, but really didn't like the idea of leaving Dominic unsupervised. Instead he started up his breathing exercises again while keeping the alpha firmly within his sights.

In for four, hold for four, out for four.

“That’s good. Just calm down,” Dominic praised, stretching forward to reach for Soap’s drawn up knees. 

Soap tossed the idea of regulating his breath out the window and drew himself up, “Dominic,” He ground out of a throat that only wanted to produce growls, “Do. Not. Touch. Me.” 

Dominic sat back on the bed, stymied, thoroughly confused, and a little offended. 

Soap’s temperature was spiking, though the want to be knotted and filled had completely vanished. Falling forward onto his hands, Soap panted for air, sweat pouring down his skin. His vision was fading, the sound of Dominic saying something coming through muffled, like his ears were stuffed with cotton. Chills and prickles raced up his spine to dance over his scalp. His throat felt like it was shrinking to the size of a straw. 

Something wet touched his bottom lip and he was automatically gulping down the water before he consciously made the decision to drink. The ringing faded from his ears just enough for him to hear Dominic.

“-hn, I called the emergency line. There’s a nurse comi-”

Soap’s vision blacked out.

When he blinked back to himself he was flat on his back with something cold pressing against the nape of his neck and his legs being held aloft by a beta woman that was standing beside the bed. Struggling to get his eyes to properly focus, he grunted his confusion.

“Hello, Mr Mactavish. I’m Kelly. How are you feeling?” The beta, Kelly, spoke with a voice that was friendly, but not perky. More of a matter-of-fact warmth. 

“Pre’y shite,” He groaned out, letting his eyes fall closed again as he rubbed at his face. Dimly registering that a thin blanket had been draped over his hips to cover his unmentionables.

“Yeah, I’d guess so,” Kelly commiserates, gently lowering his legs back onto the bed, “Could you keep your knees up for me? Just like that. Perfect. So, Mr Mactavish, you’ve just had a rather bad bout of Heat Rejection,” Kelly informs him, while keeping a grounding hand on his obediently raised knees, “It’s completely natural and not at all life threatening, the symptoms should level out within the next twenty-four hours. You’re welcome to ride it out in the medical suite here with us, or if you have someone that you can call that can sit with you for that time you’re free to leave.”

Soap slowly thinks this over, cracking open an eye and blearily noticing that the room is empty of anyone but Kelly and him. “Dominic,” He grunts, not quite managing to make it pitch up into a question.

“I asked Mr Wilckes to wait in the hall, as I wasn’t sure if his presence would make you uncomfortable.” Kelly is a consummate professional, but Soap thinks he can detect hints of scorn flitting about the corners of her eyes, “I can call him back in if that’s what you want.”

“Nae.” Soap denies, “Nae, I dun wan’ ‘im ‘ere. If ye coul' pass me mah phone I’ve someone tha’ can take me outta y’ur hair,”

Kelly kindly fetches his phone, though she doesn’t let him sit up to make the call. Eyeing Simon’s contact, he mentally apologizes to everyone on the base for the chaos he’s about to unleash, then hits dial.

He’s barely had the time to move the phone to his ear when the call is picked up.

“Johnny?” Ghost’s harried voice barks down the line, “What’s wrong?”

“Why’s some’hing gotta be wrong fer me tae call ye, L.T,” Soap bitches, trying to calm Ghost down from the lather he’s no doubt already worked himself into, “Gonnae gi’ a man a complex,”

“What’s wrong, Johnny” The voice that rumbles from the phone is pure domineering alpha and it kicks a reflexive placating whine from Soap’s chest. 

“Si, ah need ye tae come ge’ me,” Soap mumbles down the line, his bravado drowned by the sudden twisting need he has for Ghost to be here with him. 

“I’m coming, Johnny.” Is the immediate reply, and by the rustles coming from Ghost’s side of the call, Soap knows he’s hauling ass, “Can you stay on the line? Are you hurt?” 

“Ah’m fine, Si. Ah’m no' hurt,” Soap lets his eyes fall closed again, ignoring the judgmental look Kelly shoots him for his little fib. In his own defense, he’s not physically hurt. From what he knows of Heat Rejection, his body is just gonna be all kinds of outta wack while his hormones try to rapidly bring him back down to baseline. For now, he’s content to listen to the sounds of Simon snapping at any unfortunate soul that dared get in his way. Soap only realises that he’s begun purring when a quiet answering purr comes from Simon. 

The slam of the room door opening jolts Soap out of the calm daze he’d fallen into and he reflexively punts the most pertinent object at the intruder. Unfortunately, that object happened to be the phone he’d been holding, even more unfortunately, the intruder was Ghost. 

Ghost easily ducks the unconventional projectile and covers the distance to the bed so fast, Soap could have sworn he teleported. From Kelly’s jump she also wasn’t expecting a man of Ghost’s size to move with that speed. 

Spooky bastard, his L.T.

“Ghost!” he cheers and is climbing up the alpha to nuzzle into his neck before he can rein in his rampant instincts. 

Omega and alpha freeze, Soap midnuzzle and Ghost with his hands reflexively clamped around his Sergeant’s bare thighs. 

Kelly, the blessed angel she is, gently clears her throat. Effectively snapping the awkward tension.

“Mr MacTavish is experiencing Heat Rejection and needs someone that is able to stay with him for the next twenty-four hours, or until his symptoms abate.” She looks up at Ghost, clad in his full skull-plated balaclava and half his field kit, without fear. Soap must have called while he was busy terrifying the rooks, “Can you do that?”

Ghost gives her a solemn nod, “Yes.” 

“Perfect,” Kelly starts listing symptoms, proper care practices, and things to watch out for when dealing with Heat Rejection and Soap is man enough to admit that he didn’t listen to a lick of it.

He was busy oscillating wildly between bone shaking horror that he was clinging to his Lieutenant while bare as a newborn, a deep seated greedy pleasure that Simon had come for him without question, and the brainless need to purr and rub against this perfect alpha until the rejected alpha’s scent was gone from his skin.  

Ghost’s hands gently squeezed his thighs, then loosened as he leaned forward a bit to encourage Johnny to stand on his own. Soap gave a petulant whine, but a reassuring purr and a gentle pat to his thighs had him reluctantly hopping down. Before his instincts could coax his better sense into indulging in a full blown pout for having to give up his prize, he was distracted by the sight of Ghost knelt at his feet holding out a pair of trackies for him to step into. 

If the mere thought of any kind of sexual touch didn’t currently make Soap want to run all the way back to Alba, Ghost on his knees for him would be a very enticing image, he couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t be the only thing on his mind the next time the need to let off steam hit either. For now, however, Soap was tired to his core and was pitifully grateful for the help as he stepped into the trousers, letting Ghost draw them up over his hips. 

Feeling like naught more than a bairn, Soap threw his arms up at Ghost’s gesture and let the man pull a shirt over his head. The impression was not helped by Ghost then immediately picking him up and perching him on his hip. The man was only eleven centimetres taller than him, where did he get off manhandling him like he was some kind of waif. Soap grumbled to himself, but was disinclined to actually demand he be allowed to walk on his own. Content to wrap all his limbs around Simon, like a particularly lonely limpet, and purr like a motorbike while rubbing their jaws together. 

There was a bit of a scuffle when Ghost had to convince him to let go and get in the car, but by the time the car was parked again Soap was barely conscious. He dully registered Simon picking him up out of his seat, the tension falling out of his muscles when he recognized the smells of their base. He thought he heard Prize and Gaz, but their voices were far away and the rumble of Simon’s chest was nice against his. 

Johnny cracked open an eye when he was plopped onto a bed, content to drowsily track Simon as the alpha threw his duffle, once again stuffed to bursting with blankets, next to the laundry bin. Simon heading for the door sent an unpleasant jolt through him and he whined forlornly, desperate to keep his alpha here with him.

“I’m going for drinks and food, Johnny,” Simon assured him, coming back to pet a hand over his warhawk, “I’ll be right back, I promise,”

Johnny whined again, but did nothing more to stop Simon from leaving. He could also do nothing to stop his instincts from insisting that he had disappointed his alpha and the man was never coming back. Trying to appease the gordian knot his logic and instincts were tying themselves into, Johnny started rumpling around in the bed he’d been deposited onto to make up a new nest. A deep rolling purr bursting from him when he realized it was Simon’s bed. No doubt the alpha’s instincts were also going haywire, demanding he protect the omega.

No better place than the heart of his own territory for that, Johnny supposed. 

The door opened and Johnny’s reflexive hiss broke into another purr, the mere sight of Simon cutting through his anxieties. He actually barked a few ecstatic chirps when the alpha dropped lovely soft clean scentless blankets onto the bed. Johnny hadn’t chirped since his age was in the single digits, but Simon bringing him blankets -his alpha contributing to their nest-, was really doing it for him. 

Johnny lost himself in weaving the perfect nest, as he always does, and once he deemed it faultless he looked for his alpha. 

Simon was standing, backed against the wall on the other side of the room, with his hands palms out and his chin tipped up to expose his throat. His bare uncovered balaclavaless throat, to match his bare uncovered balaclavaless face. 

Oh, Johnny's alpha was perfect.

The omega might have gotten a bit overwhelmed by the sheer excellence of his alpha as he immediately went limp to flop and roll in his nest. Catching a glimpse of Simon flinching forward at his abrupt fall before realising what Johnny was doing and assuming his non-aggressive stance again, with a perfect peachy pink blush creeping up his throat to bloom over his cheeks. 

“Alpha,” Johnny called him over, patting invitingly at the nest.

Simon took a hesitant step forward and was pulled the rest of the distance to the bed by Johnny’s delighted chirps. The omega was still flopped, but curled around just enough to snag the loose fabric of Simon’s pants, retracting his hand and shaking it out with an unhappy whine when the fabric’s rough texture offended him. In the next second Simon stood before him in only his knickers. Johnny doesn’t think he’s ever seen Simon strip that fast, including that time when Simon's clothes had actually caught fire. 

Johnny gives a surprised meep, gazing wide eyed at the alpha stood vibrating before him, waiting for permission to enter his own bed. Then gets over it and hauls the man down into the nest. Pushing him around until he was in the perfect position for cuddles. Johnny purred, burying his face into the warm nook between Simon’s arm and his side, whining inconsolably when the alpha lifted his arm to give him more room, only purring again when he put it back where it was.

A hand comes up to hesitantly pet over his back, creeping upward to scratch across his nape and dig into the base of his warhawk. Johnny feels his purr drop down his throat to resonate in his chest. Announcing for all who cared to listen that Johnny considered himself to be perfectly safe, cared for, and comfortable. An answering purr kicked on in Simon’s chest and Johnny let himself drift off. 

Knowing Simon wouldn’t hurt him.

Thank You For Reading!

Let's all pray that Dominic wasn't still in the hall by the time Ghost got there, or pray for the opposite, depending on how much you hate Dominic.

So, did y'all know that Tumblr has a "4096-text-characters-per-block limit." ? Cause that was a fun discovery to have while I was trying to put this post together.

I'll admit that this one got minimal editing, if you spot something wrong lemme know!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[transalphabf]

just found your page in a muddled state of heat brain

what would alpha do if he came home and found his omega going into heat all alone? needy and whining and wet in their nest, trying to satiate themself but not being able to?

- 💀🐾 anon (if it’s not taken)

Well, Omega. There's only one thing to do when you find an Omega trying to please themselves without any true satisfaction. We all know that a toy knot will never compare to the feeling of an Alpha spreading your little cunt open on his thick cock, the feeling when your Alpha's knot starts to swell up and promise to pump you full of his thick load.

A toy can never make your eyes roll back and your body arch up with pure desire. Only an Alpha can.

So of course, what else can an Alpha do but claim your cunt and fuck you through your heat and into his rut, to make sure that you're well and truly used properly. That you're so worn out that each orgasm never seems to finish before the next starts when you're hanging off of your Alpha's knot.

[potatoplace]

Mutual Cycles

Feyre x Rhys

Written for ACOTAR Omegaverse Week: Day 7

Summary: Rhys has been irritated all day, but when he comes home he finds just the thing to fix that problem.

Words: ~1.6k

Warnings: somnophilia, A/B/O dynamics, knotting, smut, Rhys being a simp for Feyre, not proofread lol

Author's Note: I wanted to get something out for the last day of omegaverse week, and I want to say thank you so much for the moderators of @acotar-omegaverse-week for hosting it! It's been so much fun to get back into writing and read all of the amazing fics coming out of it. I hope we have one again next year :)

18+ only

🩵💜🩵

Rhysand was seated at his desk, Keir standing in front of him, Cassian and Azriel flanking his chair. Keir was prattling on about some reason why the Darkbringer’s forces were not ready to be rallied. Rhys entertained two minutes of his excuses before cutting him off.

“I do not care what your reason is, Keir, you have already had three months to rally the Darkbringers. If you do not confirm for me that they are ready to fight within the week, I will gladly drag you down into the dungeons myself and let Mor have her way with you,” he growled, thoroughly incensed with his uncle, who looked surprised and afraid. Perfect.

This pathetic excuse for a male had annoyed him far too many times, perhaps he should just end his life now and save himself the headache of coming back down to this cursed court so soon.

One of Azriel’s shadows opened the door behind Keir, who gladly took the cue and scurried away. Cassian shut the door behind him, then turned to look at Rhys, a questioning look on his face.

Rhys let out an angry sigh, looking to his right at the Shadowsinger. “I wasn’t done with him yet, brother.”

Azriel quirked a brow at him. “Unless you decided that a week’s time is already up, yes, you were.” Rhys scowled at him.

“What’s wrong with you, brother?” Cassian asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Normally you let him go on for five minutes at the least.”

“Nothing,” Rhys sighed. “He just annoyed me faster than usual is all.”

“Maybe a training session would do you some good,” Cassian suggested. Rhys considered it for a moment, then inclined his head in agreement. “Az, will you be joining us as well?”

“No, I’m suspicious of Keir’s motives. I’ll stick around here for a bit longer.”

Rhys stood and walked around his desk, clapping his hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “Just us then, brother. Let’s go,” he said, winnowing the two of them to above the House of Wind.

🩵💜🩵

An hour later, Cassian had banned Rhys from the training ring for the day, saying that he was only getting more temperamental with each round they fought.

Rhys had glared at him and flown away, heading for the town house. The chill winter wind did nothing to cool the pool of rage within in him, though.

The moment he hit the pavement outside the house, he could smell her. His mate, his sweet, delicious smelling omega.

He swung the door open and entered the house, looking around for her. This time of day, she was normally taking lunch in the garden or working on paperwork in as she ate. He glanced out of one of the window facing the garden, no Feyre.

He made quick work of checking the first floor, his mate nowhere to be found.

He took the stairs two at a time, needing to see her now. Her scent was stronger on this floor, and he took deep lungfuls of her intoxicating scent, lilacs and pears, so perfect and just for him.

He looked in his office, but his omega was not there. Rhys opened every door along the hallway leading to their bedroom, with no luck.

The last door he opened, he struck gold. His omega’s sweet scent was overwhelming, and there she was, laying on the bed underneath the covers. His little omega was sleeping, taking a short nap most likely.

Lucky for him to find her, ready and waiting to be devoured, the perfect water to soothe his fiery temperament.

He slipped the blankets off of her, revealing her soft body clad in a black satin nightgown, so short it almost gave him a peek of the treasure between her thighs.

He sank down onto the bed, parting her legs and placing himself between them. He took a few greedy breaths in, instantly feeling his anger cool. This. This was what he needed.

His omega’s pretty pink little cunt.

He licked slowly up the length of her, gathering some of the slick leaking from her on his tongue. Yes, this is exactly what he needed, and used his fingers to gently part her lips, lapping at her center. Her taste was divine, perfect, all he ever wanted to have on his tongue again.

His cock was straining against his trousers now, the base of it swelling slightly already, just from a few heavenly tastes of his omega’s pussy.

Feyre was stirring slightly, a soft whine escaping her lips when Rhys brushed his tongue against her clit. He rubbed soothing circles on one of her thighs as he sucked gently on the little bud, entranced by the way her rib cage was moving faster now, and her eyes fluttered open just as he used his other hand to push a digit into her.

“Alpha,” she whined, a hand grabbing his hair and pulled his face further against her, the sight of her mate between her legs nearly enough to finish her then. He obliged her, moving his finger slowly in and out of her, making sure to curl against the spot that he knew made sparks fly through her body, lapping at her clit. Her thighs clamped down around him as she came, slick pouring out her and right onto Rhys’s tongue.

He licked her clean before he moved up her body, placing a kiss on his omega’s lips as he misted their clothing, leaving nothing between them but the delicious brush of skin.

“Omega,” he purred, nosing her neck to the side and sucking on her neck. Feyre sighed, a soft, contented sound, and pressed a kiss to his neck, nuzzling into it. He bit down, causing Feyre to gasp and stiffen slightly before he sucked and lapped at it again, and Feyre went limp beneath him again.

His cock was throbbing at this point, leaking at the tip and his knot half formed. It brushed against Feyre’s thigh and he groaned into her neck, even just the feeling of his omega’s skin was cauldron blessed. He lined himself up with her weeping cunt, and pushed in in one stroke. Their breath caught in their throats, Feyre was not quite prepared for the stretch of his length, or the immediate press of his knot against her, and Rhys was overwhelmed by the feeling her walls hugging him so tightly.

He gave a few powerful strokes, relaxing his omega’s cunt before he pushed the base in roughly, and he loved the way his omega’s breathing was coming in small gasps.

“Omega,” he muttered against her neck again, his world consumed by her in this moment. Her scent, her presence, her cunt were all that occupied his mind as he rocked back and forth gently, a hand coming down to rub at the apex of her thighs.

He bit down on her neck again where the mating mark was, leaving a fresh new set of bite marks over it, and Feyre came again with a strangled cry, Rhys following right behind her, his knot inflating fully and sealing them together.

Feyre wrapped her arms and legs around him, needing to be as close to him as physically possible, even if they were already locked together for a good while.

Rhys rolled them to their sides, and slid a hand through her tangled hair. He took in her flushed face and watchful eyes. “I missed you, omega.”

“I missed you too, alpha.” She paused for a moment. “Are you in rut?”

Rhys furrowed his brow at her, confused by the question. Until he thought a bit about it, that would explain…

“That would explain why I wanted to kill Keir more than usual, I suppose. And why the moment I saw my mate’s pretty little pussy my knot started growing.”

Feyre blushed, her cunt clenching around him at his words, and both of them groaned. “Mm, that would make sense love. It would also make the fresh mating bite you gave me more logical. Not that I don’t love to refresh it every now and then,” she smirked.

Rhys let out a low laugh, knowing his mate would be covered in bite marks by the time his rut was over. “Good thing I have such a sweet omega, hmm?” Feyre’s cute little smile was enough to draw him in for a kiss. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, Rhysie,” she replied, and this time it was his turn to blush.

“You always save that for the sweetest moments, love.”

“That’s because every moment with you is the sweetest, Rhysie,” she said lovingly with a smile on her lips. He wrinkled his nose as he smiled, kissing her again and pulling her body further into his, her head against his chest.

Her body was flushed, growing warmer with each minute they spent pressed together.

“Darling?”

Feyre nuzzled into his chest, not bothering to look up at him, knowing what he was going to ask.

“Are you in heat?”

She looked up at him, her face more flushed than before. “Yes, but only because your rut set it off.”

He laughed lowly, taking another kiss from her. “At least this way we’ll be miserably hot and turned on together, darling.”

She pressed her lips to his again before threading a hand through his hair. Feyre rocked her hips gently, testing how much she could move. Her body needed more of him already, even with him sealed inside of her.

“A whole week of uninterrupted time with my alpha?” Feyre’s smile was dazzling, her happiness overwhelming down the bond. “Count me in.”

[shameless-slit]

Obsessed with Nightmare being so much stronger than Dream in most portrayals, because it’s such a good metaphor for how negativity is much easier to fall into than positivity??

Like, one reason why the Nightmare + Killer VS Cross + Dream fight in Underverse 0.6 is one of my favorites is because it somehow becomes such a cool portrayal of mental health struggle. Cross succumbing to Night because of that deal he can’t get out of becomes an allegory for how negative thought patterns become inescapable loops. How easy, but ultimately harmful, it is to fall to negativity, especially when faced with intense trauma like Cross. And yes, it’s important to acknowledge and accept that negativity to be able to move forward, but that’s exactly what Night prevents cross to do.

And then the Faithfully scene, the conversation between Dream and Cross, shows us how hard it is to reclaim any positivity in that situation. And as much as it’s interesting to talk about toxic positivity through Dream’s character, I think this scene is an incredible character moment for him, to actually show how resilient and strong you have to be to still muster positivity, and inspire it in others in their darkest hours. It’s also a great example of not having to fight your battles alone, of managing to comfort someone without dismissing their struggles, etc… Like damn, I watched it when I was in a bad place mentally and Dream’s words genuinely helped me, I listened to the speech so many times I know it by heart now.

It’s a wonderful moment for both Cross and Dream, and also fits within the themes and allegory of the episode… And you’re telling me we got all that from four version of the same guy anime fighting each other???

[omegaverse-anthropologist]

soft heat/rut

so in my last post i mentioned that pups’ baby scent starts to dissipate around the time of their first soft cycle

soft cycles are non-reproductive hormonal cycles. omegas experience soft heats, betas experience soft cycles, and alphas experience soft ruts. these begin in childhood (typically around ages 7-9), and are usually considered the beginning of puberty.

soft cycles in general

heightened desire for pack physical contact

more emotional sensitivity

increased nesting drive

sensitive to scent

more frequent instinctive vocalizations (e.g. purring, growling/rumbling, chirping, etc)

territorial behavior over spaces or people the pup declares ‘theirs’

in older pups closer to their full cycles, there may be an aversion to older pack mates of opposing dynamics (e.g., omega pups avoiding older alphas, alpha pups avoiding older omegas). betas do not typically experience an aversion to certain dynamics.

in those same older pups, there may be an increased desire to have close friends or members of their own non-family pack in the nest, regardless of dynamic

soft heat

low-grade fever throughout

private nesting in a bedroom or closet is often an early sign of soft heat

pack feels increased protective instinct toward the pup

intense scent marking

territorial behavior includes nuzzling, scent marking, hissing at invaders

more stationary period, i.e., the omega pup will settle into a nest and stay there for the duration of the soft heat

packmates provide food, companionship, entertainment

soft rut

fever spikes on the first day but breaks quickly

public nesting, e.g. on a sofa or near the entrance of the home

oral fixation, urge to bite or chew. it’s common for alpha pups to have a variety of chew toys

restlessness, i.e., the alpha pup will build a nest near the entrance of the home but will often ‘patrol,’ checking in on pack mates to ensure the den is safe

may insist on accompanying pack mates on errands or become distressed if favored pack mates are missing from the home

territorial behavior includes growling at guests, physically blocking entry to protected spaces, scent marking pack members and favored objects like toys

[violet-1atte]

Kinktober Day Thirty-One: A/B/O - Felix/Changbin

The grand finale! <3

Tags: Alpha!Felix, omega!Changbin, alpha/omega dynamics, mating cycles/heat, mating bites, claiming, breeding, pregnancy discussion, implied mpreg, scent kink

AO3 Link

“Felix, it's time. Hyunjin and Jisung and I are going to leave to give you guys some privacy. Take care of him.” 

It’s time. 

The dorm smelled overwhelmingly sweet. Maple and vanilla with a hint of cinnamon hit Felix in the face the second he opened the door. It was so strong it made his eyes water, but at the same time, his mouth watered as well. His fangs poked at the inside of his bottom lip and his nostrils flared. Omega, his alpha supplied. My omega. He kicked off his shoes by the door and rushed to Changbin’s room. 

As he got to the door, hints of distress mixed in with the sweetness of Changbin’s scent, an ashy smell like the smoke of a campfire. Felix took a deep breath to stabilize himself before he opened the door. And then he stepped inside.  

Changbin was on the bed, surrounded by a pile of blankets and clothes, ranging from his own shirts to Chan’s, to even Minho’s–his nest. Another thing Felix quickly noticed was that he was completely naked and he was whining, the high keen immediately filling his ears as he stepped closer. He did his best to turn his own citrusy scent calming–anything to remove the distress from Changbin’s scent. 

“Binnie,” Felix called softly. He stood at the edge of the nest, not wanting to get in until Changbin gave him express permission. It was taking a great amount of self control not to pounce Changbin right then and there. He looked so pretty all spread out in his nest. He’d gotten a little chubby lately as they prepared for this heat and that only made him more enticing. He looked so soft and supple. Perfect for Felix to sink his teeth into–

“ Alpha ,” Changbin whined, bringing Felix out of his own desire-fueled thoughts. He turned over on the bed and faced Felix and oh he looked so pretty, his cheeks red like ripened fruit and his eyes cloudy and dazed with heat. 

“I’m here,” Felix said softly. “Can I come in?” 

“Please,” Changbin sniffed, voice a little pained, and that was all Felix needed to join him in his nest and pull him into his arms. His skin was burning up, already feverish from his heat, and he was shaking. It made his inner alpha whine pathetically, screaming at him to comfort, comfort, comfort . He nosed at Changbin’s scent gland and inhaled deeply as he began to scent him, releasing calming pheromones as much as he could. Changbin whimpered softly as citrus mixed with sugar and bloomed throughout the room. Felix always loved how their scents combined. Perfect, sweet, delicious, like a bakery during the summer time, full of rich, ripe fruit mixed into sugary baked goods and pastries that melt on your tongue. 

“I’ve got you,” Felix mumbled against Changbin’s heated skin. The omega began to relax in his arms and he stopped shaking as much. He was still just as hot but the distress had melted out of his scent and Felix was instead hit with the full force of his sweetness. His gums burned as arousal mixed into the air and coated his lungs like sap. Fuck . Changbin’s slick. 

Changbin squirmed and whined as his arms came to wrap around Felix. Despite his softness, he was still so strong, stronger than Felix even. People often mistook Changbin as an alpha but Felix knew how wrong that assumption was. He was strong and powerful, but he was strong as an omega. 

“Felix, I want–” Changbin started, struggling to find words through the fog in his brain. “It–it hurts. Please. Need you,” he whimpered. Felix inhaled slowly as arousal swirled in his stomach. He was already hard, and was practically the moment he stepped in the door. 

“My omega,” Felix drawled, sitting back so he could cup Changbin’s cheeks. “I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.” 

“Mate? You’ll claim me, right?” he asked simply and Felix’s heartbeat stuttered in his chest. Right. That was what Chan was talking about. It’s time . Time for him and Changbin to mate. 

They had been planning this for a while. The group was at a stable point in their career and as a pack. Minho and Jisung were already mated and Hyunjin and Seungmin were planning on it soon but somehow had more patience. Felix and Changbin couldn’t wait, but Chan still had to get permission from the company. It wasn’t unheard of for an omega to get pregnant the moment they were mated and that would create a lot of issues with the group without proper planning. Minho and Jisung had been lucky. Felix didn’t want to be lucky. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna make you mine,” Felix all but growled. His gums stung more but he ignored it. He wanted to draw this out. 

Changbin rolled over and Felix let him, even though he wanted to keep his arms around him forever. Then Changbin arched his back and spread his knees apart so that his ass was in the air, his dripping hole on perfect display for Felix. He was full-on presenting. Saliva flooded Felix’s mouth as he took in the sight–his inner thighs and ass shiny with slick, his pink hole fluttering, desperate for a knot, his curves and the roundness of his tummy, begging for Felix to breed him and fill him up with pups–he wanted to devour him. 

“Fuck, Changbin, you’re so pretty,” Felix breathed, moving behind him. 

He placed his hands on Changbin’s ass cheeks and dug his fingers into the soft flesh. Even though his hands were small, he was strong, and Changbin’s skin would probably bruise later. “P-please, alpha. Touch me,” Changbin whimpered, arching his back further. Felix licked his lips as he spread Changbin’s cheeks apart, heat spreading through his stomach as a glob of slick dripped out of his hole. The sweet maple and vanilla was so strong it was making Felix a little lightheaded. His mouth watered. 

Changbin began to whine again but then Felix leaned forward and without a warning, licked all the way up his perineum to his hole. He collected his slick on his tongue and swallowed it down with a groan. It tasted just like it smelled. “You’re so delicious,” Felix groaned. Changbin gasped when he pushed the tip of his tongue past his hole and began to lick at his velvety walls. His legs were already shaking as Felix started thrusting his tongue in and out of him, eating him out like a man starved. 

The sounds of pleasure Changbin was making went straight to Felix’s cock and he knew it wouldn’t take long for his knot to form. But he held himself back. He needed to be there for all of Changbin’s heat. 

“I-I’m– ahhh —alpha,” Changbin moaned, hole clenching around Felix’s tongue. Felix continued licking into him and added two fingers into the mix, the digits sliding in easily with how wet Changbin was. He mewled as Felix spread him out with his fingers, sweet, whiny sounds falling from his lips. 

“Hhh– hnngg –I’m gonna come,” he gasped, a shudder wracking his body as Felix curled his fingers. He hummed against Changbin’s hole in response. Getting Changbin to come had become a need of his own. He needed it more than anything. His alpha was ecstatic that he was pleasuring his omega. 

Changbin cried out as Felix pulled his first orgasm out of him. His little cock spurted cum all over the sheets and more slick spilled from his hole and coated his thighs and Felix’s chin. Felix swallowed what he could and licked the rest from his lips. “Fuck,” he muttered, straightening himself up. “You taste so good, Binnie. Can’t believe you’re all mine. All mine.” 

Changbin’s skin was flushed all over. The pink stain fit well with his moans as Felix started fingering him again once he had calmed down from his first orgasm. The first of many. Instead of adding his tongue this time he added a third finger and pushed them deeper. Changbin writhed on the bed and his thighs and arms quivered as he struggled to hold himself up. Even for all his strength there was only so much he could take. 

“Mmm!–oh gosh, f-fuck,” Changbin gasped suddenly, his hips jerking. Felix grinned. He felt a slight change in texture under his fingertips–Changbin’s prostate. He hadn’t even needed to touch it to make Changbin come the first time, but his omega had always been so sensitive. “ Please –I can’t, I can’t,” he whimpered. 

Felix squeezed his plush thigh and pumped his fingers in and out of him. His hand was coated in slick already from how much Changbin was dripping. His scent permeated the air and rested over them like a thick blanket. It was so hot and Felix wanted to burn in it. “You can,” he reassured him. He caressed his thigh as he rubbed his fingers over his prostate. “You can come for me again. I know you can. You’ll be a good omega for me, right, hyung?” 

Changbin choked on a moan and nodded. His face was pressed against the bed and his cheeks were splotchy with pink. “Yes, yes,” he responded with vigorous nods. “I can, please, F-Felix, alpha.” 

Felix bit his teeth and dug his fingertips into Changbin’s thigh. He could taste the copper on his tongue from his fangs digging into his lip and his gums burned with the urge to bite. He spread his fingers and arousal exploded in his belly at the way the entirety of Changbin’s soft body quivered. His noises got progressively more high pitched as Felix fucked him with his fingers and his touches turned rougher. It was music to Felix’s ears. 

“I’m–hah–clo-close, aaahhh. Felix, Felix, please.”

“You’re taking my fingers so well,” Felix complimented. It was taking everything in him to not lose his resolve. “So perfect, so good for me, Changbinnie. Such a good boy,” he whispered, his low voice a sharp contrast with Changbin’s desperate mewls. 

It didn’t take long for Changbin to reach his second orgasm, this one hitting him harder than the first when Felix gave a particularly hard thrust of his fingers. He made a choked sound that almost sounded like a sob and he collapsed forward as he came, more cum dripping from his cock. His hole spasmed around Felix’s fingers and let out little whines as he thrusted them in deep, until Changbin was gasping for him to stop. 

“You’re so pretty,” Felix praised, his voice soft. He helped Changbin roll over onto his back so that he could see his face properly and the sight of his debauched expression nearly pulled a growl from his chest. His eyelashes were wet with unshed tears and his lips were red and swollen, slick from the brush of his tongue. He bit his lip, his fangs glinting in the midday light. Changbin’s breath hitched and he tilted his head to the side, barring his neck. 

“Alpha,” he moaned. He spread his legs. His cock was still hard against his soft tummy. Felix wanted to bite him everywhere. His skin was perfect, unblemished–a perfect canvas for Felix to decorate. 

He started with his thighs. He was still so hot that his skin warmed Felix’s mouth as he laved over the first bite mark with his tongue. His thighs were sticky with slick and sweat and he tasted divine.

Shivers shook Changbin’s thighs and goosebumps rose all over his skin as Felix made his way up his body, sucking on all his softest parts–biting the swell of his tummy, the soft flesh of breasts. The closer he got to Changbin’s neck the more he wanted to sink his teeth into him, mark him, claim him as his mate. There were already bite marks littering Changbin’s skin and hickeys blooming in red and purple hues. But Felix wanted to save the real marking for when he knotted him. 

When he reached Changbin’s face, the omega wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a kiss. There was no finesse behind it and it was more tongue and teeth than anything, but it was Changbin . His mouth tasted so sweet and his little gasps and mewls against his mouth sent arousal licking up his spine. “Wan’ you to fuck me,” Changbin whimpered once they separated. His pupils were blown and there was a haze over them. He was deep into his heat and Felix could sense his need and it clawed at his insides. “I need it, please. I’m so wet I–please, n-need your knot,” he begged. 

Felix swallowed thickly and licked his lips. Fuck, Changbin was all his . 

“I’ve got you, baby. Do you want it like this?” he asked, running his hand down Changbin’s torso. He couldn’t resist squeezing a small handful of the chub settled around his middle. 

More vanilla-soaked arousal flooded the air at Felix’s touch and if it was even possible, Changbin’s cheeks turned even redder. “L-like this please,” he replied. 

Suddenly, his face twisted and he whimpered as a wave of cramps hit him. The sugar in his scent turned smokey again and Felix frowned as his alpha picked up on his omega’s distress. “H-hurts, alpha, m-make me–make me f-feel good,” Changbin cried, his body arching underneath Felix. 

Felix knew he couldn’t waste time so he planted another kiss on Changbin’s full lips and then slipped down between his spread thighs. The sheets below his ass were soaked with slick and his hole was clenching around nothing. “Every part of you–fuck. Shit. The prettiest fucking thing ever, ” he groaned. He scrambled out of his clothes, tossing them somewhere in the pile that made up Changbin’s nest so he could have them for his heat. He had to remind himself that this heat would still last another day and he would have plenty of time to take Changbin apart piece by piece. But for now, he needed his alpha’s knot. And Felix needed to feel him around him. He was so hard it hurt, so hard he had trouble thinking. 

It was his instincts taking over as he pressed the tip of his leaking cock to Changbin’s hole, the head easily slipping past his rim with no resistance. He didn’t worry about protection. He wanted to see Changbin’s belly swollen with his pups. Their pups. 

Changbin moaned wantonly as Felix pushed his legs back and his cock filled him up. He clenched around him and Felix gritted his teeth, a deep moan vibrating in his throat. “Fuck, you feel so good around me. It’s like you were made for me, hyung,” he said reverently. Changbin only moaned in response, already too far gone to form any proper thoughts. Felix was going to fuck him senseless . 

He pushed his cock in until his hips were pressed against Changbin’s ass. He was still so tight even though he’d fingered him already. The wet heat surrounding his cock made him dizzy with pleasure so he gave himself a second to adjust, hands pressed firmly against Changbin’s thighs. But Changbin was squirmy, clearly needing more as he pushed his hips forward, whining for Felix to do something please . And fuck, Felix was so weak for him. 

He pushed Changbin’s legs back toward his chest and pulled out, the action producing a loud squelch from the amount of slick coating his walls. Changbin immediately whined from the loss, desperate pleas already falling from his mouth, but Felix was quick to ease him, filling him up again with one quick snap of his hips. 

“ Ahh! ” Changbin mewled, tossing his head back into the soft piles of his nest. Felix growled, a low, soft rumble in his chest and Changbin tilted his head to the side to present himself in response. “Alpha, alpha–” 

“So good,” Felix gritted. “Fuck, you feel so good. My baby, my omega you’re so–shit.” His head felt like cotton. The mix of their scents in the air, the heat of Changbin’s feverish body, the feeling of skin on skin, the loud moans each of his thrusts punched from Changbin–it caused pleasure to burst through his stomach and tingle up and down his spine like electricity. 

“Fu-uckk,” Changbin hiccupped, followed by a long whine. “H-harder, please, bread me– hhngg– alpha, alpha,” he chanted. His eyes rolled back as Felix thrusted his cock deeper, hitting his prostate dead on. His little cock bobbed against his tummy with each jab of Felix’s hips and the precum smeared across his smooth skin. He was such a pretty sight. Mine, all mine, Felix thought. 

Heat pooled in his stomach as Changbin clenched around him and cried out, his pretty mouth parted as he moaned. “ Aaahh –Fe-Felix–gonna–nghh–knot me p-please, want your pups,” he begged. Felix groaned and Changbin’s eyes rolled back as he picked up his pace and fucked him harder, digging his fingertips into Changbin’s supple thighs so hard that there would be bruises and nail marks left later. 

“You’re gonna–fuck–gonna look so, s-so pretty like that, Binnie,” Felix moaned. Pleasure tugged at his insides and he could already feel his knot beginning to form, the slight bulb catching on Changbin’s rim whenever he pulled out. Changbin was getting close too, judging by the way his eyes rolled back and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. The pink matched the marks Felix left all over his body and the flush of his round cheeks. 

Felix’s knot filled up more and Changbin let out a cry as he pushed it back in. He was already stretched so much and the knot filled him up more than the entirety of Felix’s cock. “‘S too much,” he gasped, making little fists in the sheets. “I-I can’t take it–you’re splitting me in half. ”

A shiver ran over Felix’s body. “Shh, yes you can,” he said soothingly. He tossed Changbin’s legs over his shoulders and leaned between his thighs to reach for his hand. He brought his wrist up to his face and nuzzled against it, scenting him with fresh citrus. Changbin’s eyes glazed over and he let out a breathy moan. His body went entirely pliant in Felix’s hold and the alpha smiled brightly. “That’s a good omega. You gonna come for me? Then you can get my knot,” he said. 

His vigorous nods were followed by another thrust of Felix’s hips, this one more gentle than the others, but still enough to make Changbin keen. “Y-yes,” he stuttered. “Want it. ‘M gonna come, please, please mark me. Please. ” 

Felix’s gums hurt, his jaw ached. “Fuck,” he breathed. “ Fuck.” 

He pulled out one more time and that snapped his hips forward, pushing his fully formed knot past Changbin’s puffy rim. That was what the omega needed to come and he sobbed, his eyes rolling back as his hole spasmed around Felix’s knot. His cock spurted weakly, already spent from his first two orgasms. He looked so beautiful with his mouth hanging open, moans flowing freely past his red lips. Felix growled again and clenched his jaw. “My omega. Mine.” 

“Yours, yours,” Changbin replied “Fill me up, alpha, breed me.” 

Felix groaned and dropped his head as his orgasm hit him, his hips jerking as his cum spilled inside Changbin. The scent of his own arousal almost overcame Changbin’s as he pressed deeper, pushing Changbin back until his hips lifted off the bed. 

The urge to bite him, mate him, claim him, suddenly overwhelmed Felix and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He went between Changbin’s legs and as he filled him up and moved one of his hands beside Changbin’s head to cage him in. Then he dipped his head and attached his mouth to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, right over his scent gland. 

Changbin’s breath hitched and his body stilled. “Alpha,” he muttered. “Felix.” 

Felix hummed against his skin and licked over his scent gland. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. He felt like his veins were electrified. This was it. He and Changbin would finally be one. 

He scraped his teeth over his skin, testing the waters, and then bit down, hard . Changbin gasped and his body jerked as his fangs sank into his flesh. Blood flooded Felix’s mouth and ran down his chin and Changbin’s shoulder and there was no way it didn’t hurt even though he didn’t make a sound. He could smell the smoke in his scent again from the pain but he knew it would all be gone in a moment. 

He stayed just like that for a moment, waiting for their bond to set it and slowly Changbin settled. Then, he felt like he was blooming, an overwhelming feeling of love , joy, peace, running down his body like the blood running down his chin. He could feel Changbin more intensely than he’d ever felt him. The room smelled like orange blossoms and syrup and them . Tears sprung to his eyes and ran down his cheeks. His chest felt so full. 

Changbin whimpered above him and wrapped his arms around him. The touch of his skin lit Felix on fire. Oh, had they been missing out. “Do you feel that?” Changbin asked, his voice choked up. 

Felix hummed and his lips curled into a smile even as tears streamed down his cheeks. He finally pulled off Changbin and licked over the wound to clean up the blood and wiped his lips and chin. “I do,” he said softly, nodding. “It feels amazing.” 

“It does,” Changbin said back, biting his plush bottom lip. “I can feel everything.” 

“Yeah?” Felix asked, letting out a watery laugh. 

“Yeah.” Changbin smiled warmly and pulled Felix down to kiss him. They took their time with this kiss, lips moving in tandem, no urgency behind it. Changbin’s fever had broken and he would have a little respite before his heat kicked up again and they would have to leave all the niceties behind. But for now, Felix could be sweet and gentle. He could let Changbin lick into his mouth and press kisses to his jaw without any rush. 

“You’re officially my alpha,” Changbin said happily, giggling a little as Felix continued his incessant kisses. 

“I’ve always been your alpha,” he said, kissing the corner of his lips, then his chin, then his cheek. 

“But now everyone will know. I’m really yours. And you’re mine. My pretty alpha.” 

Felix blushed and he dropped his head to hide against Changbin’s shoulder. “You can’t get shy now! Your knot’s still inside me, Lix.” He clenched around him as if to prove his point and Felix groaned, clenching his fists. 

“Don’t do that! This knot needs to go down before I can go again,” he said. 

Changbin laughed and the action shook his chest. “Do you…do you really think I’ll have pups now?” he asked softly after a moment. 

Felix lifted his head and smiled. “I’m sure. You’re perfect. We’ll have our little babies.” They would know for sure in about two weeks. Changbin’s scent would change. It would turn softer, gentler, promising. And even if this knot didn’t take, they still had almost two whole days left.

“Good,” Changbin hummed. He ran his fingers down Felix’s spine and the alpha practically purred. “You’ll be the best daddy.” 

Felix could have cried right then and there. And he did. More tears streamed down his face and he groaned as he hid himself against Changbin again. “You’re supposed to be the emotional one now!” he groaned and Changbin just laughed at his expense again. 

“My cute alpha. With the biggest heart. It’s hot. Makes me wanna ride you.” 

Felix gasped, scandalized. “I liked you a lot better two minutes ago. Go to sleep. You need to rest before your next wave hits anyway. 

Changbin giggled and ruffled Felix’s messy hair. “Yes, alpha. Your wish is my command.”  

Felix nipped at his chest and he would have wrestled him if they weren’t still knotted together and he wasn’t tired. Eventually Changbin’s laughter died down and they were able to fall asleep, a blanket of their own bonded scents warming them into dreamless slumber.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I may have been reading a bit too much omegaverse but I stumbled upon your stuff on ao3 and uh now it’s not getting out of my head so I’m here

may I request omega!Steve + alpha!Bucky having a sparring session that escalates beautifully?

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Also, before we get into it, I semi-recently wrote another lil thing here on Tumblr about Steve and Bucky sparring that you might want to check out, although that prompt fill is much, much angsty-er and not omegaverse specific.

And, lmao, that's fair. I haven't been thinking a lot about omegaverse recently, but every time I am on my omegaverse bullshit I am on it and into it.

And I was really thinking about what I could do with sparring and omegaverse and smut, reading your prompt, but then... I had a thought: omegaverse, fighting not sparring, and something similar to this iconic scene from Captain American: The Winter Soldier.

Then, things got angsty. I'm sorry, lmao. I didn't mean for it to happen! It just did.

So, consider the idea that Steve and Bucky were bonded mates before Bucky fell and "died" during the war. Bucky is Steve's alpha; Steve is Bucky's omega. Yet, when Steve wakes up in the modern world, not only has history been rewritten to say that Captain America was an alpha but, also, his relationship with Bucky has been erased. It had to be because if it weren't, that would mean that either (a) they would have to claim that Steve and Bucky were an alpha-alpha couple which they don't want to do because that'd make them queer and that's not a good propaganda pawn or (b) they would have to claim that Bucky was the omega, swapping Steve and Bucky's designations which is... plausible... but, that would mean admitting that omegas went to war and, that, again, is unpopular and not good propaganda. So, they just destroyed their relationship entirely and reassigned Steve's designation.

Steve isn't sure how to feel about his life being eroded like that. His relationship; his very, very strong feelings about what society tells omegas, especially omega men, they can or can't do; his history; his understanding. But, as fucking confused as he is about all that, warring with himself and trying to figure out where he stands, it is easier to let it be. Without his bonded mate--really, with having just lost his bonded mate according to his body, that doesn't know it's been seventy years, it thinks it's been just a handful of weeks since Bucky "died", his mating cycles haven't started to try and re-calibrate, triggering themselves to get back on tracks. Bucky was the one his heats were synced to. His grief puts a halt to his regular cycles for now anyway. Besides, the suppressants that exist nowadays are so much better than those from Steve's time.

So, yeah, it's much easier to let the world think he is an alpha, using scent-blocking deodorant and body wash and all that, letting people believe that it's just the chivalrous thing Captain America would, of course, do because his alpha scent is so fucking strong, if he didn't, he'd have a multiple-block line of omegas trailing after him throughout New York City.

They don't know the truth.

No one really does. There are just one or two high-security clearance people at S.H.I.E.L.D. in medical that know because they're synthesizing an extra strong heat suppressant for when Steve's body does decide it will try to realign itself without his mate. The secret needs to be kept.

However.

That all fucking changes in the blink of an eye when, finally, fucking finally Sam, Nat, and Steve track down the Winter Soldier, or rather, the soldier tracks them down to a rundown metropolitan area, all empty warehouses, junk cars, and beat up loading docks. They're running (or flying, in Sam's case) through cracked concrete and warped metal, swearing they see the soldier around every corner and hearing him, too. Their coms are haunted by whispers of each of them believing to have heard his footsteps just ahead, the sound of his arm recalibrating just over their shoulder, his weapon cocking behind them, or the eerie, all-around them sound of his breath through his mask, filtered and almost Darth-Vader-esque (Steve knows that reference, thank you, Sam).

It's hours of a wild chase, running in circles.

A death spiral.

Until...

Steve chokes on his own spit, sweating through his stolen museum uniform, as he's rushed from behind.

He's hit.

There's a nanosecond of stunned shock before he registers what's happening--it's the muzzle of a gun shoved into his back unforgivingly and trying to throw him to the ground with the impact. Steve bends under the weight but throws his own mass to the side, not letting himself get pinned to the ground and effectively evading the heavy gun pressed against him. He's lucky that the soldier doesn't just shoot a hole through him.

As he rolls away from the impact. His back stings with hot, vicious pain. He slams his shield to the side and CLANG! rings the dinner bell. Metal on metal. The large, bulky machine gun the soldier is carrying clashing with his vibranium shield. The vibration of the hit rattles Steve's teeth in his jaw. He won't let himself be stunned again, though.

So, he throws more of his mass behind his shield when he gets both feet on the ground and strips the soldier of his biggest gun. But not before he fires off a handful of shots against his shield at point-blank range. The POP, POP, POP of the gun is so loud Steve is momentarily deafened, his ears ringing so badly that there's no sound at all. The heat of the gunpowder combusting radiates through Steve's shield back into his body--he can feel it in his arms. His heart races. The combustion is all he can smell. He doesn't need hearing or smell, though. Not when he's so close. He doesn't mind being burned alive, either. Not in his frantic state of mind. He's right fucking here. This is the closest they've come. They need to make this happen. And they need it now. So, he can take it.

He has to.

Another shove and the soldier loses his grip entirely. The big, heavy gun skids across the ground, scraped up and scratched on the concrete before finally slowing to stillness impressively far away from them. Already, though, the soldier is moving to grab another.

Steve needs to beat him to the punch. Brute force.

And so, he has no choice but to swing the shield away, leaving himself open to be hit, but sacrificing safety to hold onto the muzzle of the next much smaller handgun the soldier rips out of its holster.

Steve can't let him have it.

They struggle in the overcast, humid weather.

Strength-to-strength.

Hand-to-hand.

Breath-for-breath.

They're shockingly on par with each other, even as the soldier's arm recalibrates with a mechanical war cry, whining sharply through the ringing in Steve's ears. But ultimately, the handgun goes flying, too. Landing on the magazine, jostling it, and making it pop off in a random direction. It doesn't hit either of them. Steve doesn't hear Sam or Natasha close by either, so they're safe for now. He focuses on the fight he has in front of him, trusting they'll keep themselves out of harms way as best they can.

The gun just goes off once and then slides across the ground just as the other one had. The dragging sound of it is sickening like nails on a chalkboard. Steve wants to wince but can't risk it. His eyes have never been more goddamn open.

The soldier has a knife next. Not another gun.

Steve, through his exerted panting, lets out something of a sigh of relief, at least that shit can't make as much terrible, sharp fucking noise. It's also, y'know, good that the threat of having holes shot through him isn't as pressing. A knife is still bad, but he can work with a knife. He can.

He will.

Steve backs up, giving himself room to play. Both side-stepping for real and faux rushing in, Steve blocks every stab, cut, and swing the soldier throws his way, forcing him to make moves he wouldn't if he weren't brawling with Steve.

With more and more missed hits, Steve can see he's getting frustrated. He isn't tiring out because Steve isn't tired out. Not yet. He can do this all day. But the soldier is getting angry--it's the only flash of emotion he's seen on his face. Granted, he's never seen this much of his face before with his goggles gone. His mask is still firmly in place, though. Only his eyes are exposed--especially his eyebrows are exposed, 'cause they're so dark and expressive, furrowing in aggravation with what must be a vicious snarl.

The next thrown stabs are reckless. He's leaving himself open. Steve takes the window he's giving, exploiting it and using it to his advantage. Punching in.

Steve manages to get the knife away from him, too, but not before the soldier strips him of his shield entirely. It rattles against the ground like a coin dropped, rolling around its rim with an obnoxious clang!-groooooiinng-roooooiing-ooooooiinnnng-rnnnnng-rrrrrnnnng.

They're fists to fists then.

It could only be more vulnerable if they were bare knuckles to bare knuckes. That'd suck worse. The soldiers metal arm could surely best his flesh and bone to a bloody pulp easier than Steve could fuck over his metal architecture.

It's a rushing, messy blur of body-weight-thrown-behind-them punches and knee-sweeping kicks, getting knocked down and getting up, rolling and turning and tucking. At some fucking point, Steve's face down on the floor, fist thrown out into nothing but concrete, and he's gasping through his gritted teeth. His ribs hurt. He sees fucking red but it washes out, running pink and then clear like a bloody wound rinsed clean behind a faucet, as soon as he feels the soldier's organic arm wrap around his throat like a boa constrictor.

Shit.

Steve opens his mouth, gasping, not through his teeth this time. He fights that much harder. Motherfucker.

He twists like an alligator in a death roll, except he's not holding onto prey. He is the prey, and he desperately needs not to be. In the soldier's grasp, he lifts his leg and kicks it back hard. The soldier barely grunts, and instead of being deterred by his thrashing and kicking, he hauls Steve's body back as if he weighs nothing at all.

Steve twists harder and harder and harder and ends up with his nose in the soldier's armpit, his neck twisted and strained harshly to the side, tendons screaming at him. His vision is just starting to go fuzzy at the edges without oxygen, getting choked by the soldier so intensely, when--

Steve's choppy, barely successful inhale that fights to happen under the instinctive need for air, his lungs spasming and chest heaving even while his brain knows he won't find any oxygen--that inhale, it brings in the barest hint of a devastingly familiar scent.

Bucky.

The scent that's wafting off of the soldier's underarms is undeniably alpha, and it's choked with the acrid scent of distress and exhaustion. But, deeper, beneath that unpleasant, unwashed scent, it's just... that's... it's-! That's the smell of his alpha. Seventy years long dead. His alpha.

His alpha smells like sweet tobacco and fragrant cigarettes and summer sweat and well-loved leather and deep, old woods. His alpha smells like home. His alpha smells like himself. Bucky. His alpha used to smell, most of the time, like Steve. They were always all over each other, of course.

Steve can't tell if the soldier smells like him. For one, he's always slathered in scent blockers, so he's not even sure what he smells like without them anymore. And for another, the moment is there and then gone, so he doesn't get more than a single, earth-shattering whiff.

It's a faint whiff, even though the soldier's smell is so strong, but Steve knows what he fucking smelled.

He knows the truth.

His body knows the truth, dropping limp beneath Bucky, reacting so viscerally to his alpha. All the fight drops out of him.

Alpha.

His body screams for his alpha.

Steve doesn't even fucking do anything, he can't. His hindbrain works a million times faster than his conscious, logical brain. He folds to his alpha because that's what his innermost omega demands. That's what it wants. That's what it needs.

Bucky.

He needs Bucky.

He needs his alpha.

He misses his alpha so fucking much.

Steve whimpers, the call of his mate's designation right there on his lips, "a-alpha," but it dies before he can get it out. He doesn't have the air for it.

And in a fucking flash, before he's even processed what's happening in his logical brain, he's hard. His body and hindbrain are working overtime to push him. Hitting hyperdrive. He's wet. He's gutted with the sudden onslaught of heat rushing into him.

Heat.

Steve is on the cusp of spilling over like a little Dixie cup beneath a pouring, rushing faucet.

Pheromones. Fever. Slick. Cramps.

Heat.

He's tripping.

He is.

He is spilling over.

Steve is unraveling. Every constructed asset of Captain America peeling away beneath the terror and celebration he exists undeather, knowing that his bondmate is alive. Terror for what's become of him--what's been done to him--and celebration for knowing he's still alive, even if alive may be a stretch. He is a shell.

He is a shell because Steve's Bucky wouldn't choke him intent to kill. But the soldier does.

The soldier is.

The soldier is going to do him in.

The soldier would--the soldier will choke him out. The soldier will kill him. He will because he's been giving the opportunity on a silver platter, Steve's body limp. His instincts can't be overriden. The pure relieve and horror he feels. The rushing, rising tide of his stunted heat suddenly overcoming him. The soldier would murder Steve if not for Sam, who does a flying kick to Bucky's shoulder and knocks him away from Steve.

Bucky growls roughly, even more frustrated than before. But, something in him has changed. His eyes dart between Steve and Sam uncomprehending what's happening. There's the darkness of primal instinct behind those eyes. Steve desperately wishes he knew if it was his natural alpha instincts or whatever perverted, twisted instincts whoever did this to him placed in his broken mind.

This is Bucky, but this isn't Bucky.

Steve watches, heart throbbing in his crushed, hurting throat, as Bucky scrambles to his feet. Body lifting and moving with deadly precision, his metal hand clutches at his flesh and blood shoulder. It's sitting at an awkward angle compared to the rest of his body. Sam's kick must've dislocated it. Steve can't shove down his own growl, territorial over his alpha who's been abruptly dangled in front of his face, just out of reach.

Although Steve's possessive, mate mate mate protective instincts turn into a whine quickly. One of his hands lifts without his conscious input and stretches out toward Bucky. His fingers tremble, aching to soothe the hurt he's masking and aching to be soothed himself. Moments from every heat he's spent with his alpha over their life together flash before his eyes as his alpha's eyes bore into him, confusion plain as day, then realization, then horrified fear, and then he's scurrying away.

Bucky doesn't bother to grab a gun, knife, steal his shield, or anything. He's just high-tailing it out of there--there one moment and then gone the next and leaving Steve to deal with the aftermath.

Alone.

With no mate.

Entirely devastated.

Steve is choking and sputtering after being choked, feeling wet and sticky between his legs as the fever of heat really starts to sink its teeth into him. Jesus Christ. One smell of his alpha and his grieving, out-of-wack body has locked itself into a tailspin. Jesus Christ. He's so fucked. So not fucked. He remembers what his heats were like after the serum. They're unstoppable. Worse than they ever were when he was just a runt omega. He needs his alpha.

How's he going to survive one without him?

What is he supposed to do?

Steve has just begun to comprehend some of what unfolded, and he already feels helpless. He's crushed. There's nothing he can do.

Steve swallows a pathetic cry, stuffing it down his throat.

A cramp roils through Steve's shivering body. He ends up collapsing forward into a ball, his cowl-covered forehead hitting the concrete ground with a desperate, defeated clunk.

His ears are still ringing. His heart is still, of course, pounding. His nose tells him he can still smell his alpha, his perfect, familiar scent crowded by the scent of so much fucking pain. And his eyes squeeze shut that much tighter. So, he can't hear what Sam is saying. He can't see Natasha rush over. He can't parse out the questions they're asking him or the way they're touching him gently, trying to figure out where he's hurt, how badly he's hurt. Steve can do nothing but try and fail to grapple with the impending doom of knowing he's in for a week of agony without his alpha.

His alpha who is alive.

He has to find him.

He needs him.

P.S. if you enjoyed this pain™️ you'll like this orphaned fic, "it's gotta get easier somehow ('coz, i'm falling, i'm falling)"

I forgot about it until I finished this little drabble, but I've had it bookmarked forever, so, it probably inspired this subconsciously!

[glassesfreekjr]

Since the first do-over somehow sounded even more like ass, I remastered/redid the whole track now that I have more experience.

Picture this as the OST for a surprise XTRA WAVE during the next Big Run. Even better if this "King Salmonid" isn't announced anywhere beforehand.

Imagine, if you will, that distorted victory jingle plays to signify a King Salmonid, but nothing happens. All eight(?!) players Super Jump back to their starting locations and Mr. Grizz pipes in to express his confusion. Then he notices... no, no, he definitely sent out a four-man squad! Why are there more of you? How long have these conspicuous individuals in the same uniform been trying to blend in amogus? Are those Grizzco weapons?!

Then without a word, the interlopers all open fire at once. Cue the music.

Although the firefight would break out as the music kicks off, the 100-sec Xtra Wave would only officially start at 0:22 — when the Grizzco helicopter is blasted out of the sky with a Trizooka, careening into the ocean in a catastrophic, firey wreck. Mr. Grizz lets out a long, garbled string of curses and hails the emergency speedboat he prepared in advance to come pick you up. But will it make it to your squad in time? Here's hoping.

---

Ditching the odd time signatures and overdriven timpanis in favor of breakcore drum loops is kinda like sanitizing what made the music ω-3 (the band for Salmon Run) special and shoving what's left in a place where it don't belong — which is similar to my interpretation of what "salmonlings" would be like. Literal fish out of water.

Salminid culture is heavily tied to the belief in the circle of life (via being cooked alive). It's why they're so willing to zerg rush players during Salmon Runs. So imagine being torn away from said cycle, altered so irrevocably that you barely recognize yourself. My intent was to capture that feeling of horrid mania, and the music I sampled from/covered lended itself well to that, I think.

I've also found a good in-universe performer at last: DJ Unregistered Hypercam 3 (by @teethflavoured on Tumblr), a retired Mudmouth turned solo artist for whom I instantly fell head-over-heels.

(sample source list and an ultra-rad visualizer can be found on my YouTube)

[deadnatura11]

I guess I'll have to be the one to say it -

Anyone notice how A Book Of's acronym is literally ABO ? 👀

[oceansssblue]

For the requests,,, Alpha male x Omega Hunter? 👀 mayyyybee heat?

Yes siiiiir 🫡

Wasn't sure if you wanted them in a relationship or for them to be strangers, if you wanted full smut or tease or fluffy... Just decided to go with my gut. Not checked for errors, so sorry! Hope you like it!

"Bite me"

ALPHA OMC / OMEGA HUNTER

WARNINGS: just the classic omegaverse shit; heats, bite marks, dynamics blablabla. You know what you're here for. Smut, establied relationship, fluff 💖🔥

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter was used to taking care of things. Of his squad, of Omega, of strategies and plans... It was just how it had always been. With no shortage of supressants, and considering they distributed them to all the clones periodically, the kaminoans hadn't paid much attention to the fact that the sargeant was –a surprise for many– an omega; but without their endless resources, and their new life on the run from the Empire, it had been Hunter's time to face a truth he had been long ignoring. Sometimes he wanted someone to take care of him.

It had taken a long time for him to come to terms with that. He wasn't used to it, always the leader of his squad; needing someone, feeling that deep-soul desperation tugging at him... It had made him feel weak. On top of that, his sense of smell had all but intensified; migraines worsening as well. And oh, let's not even start with the heats... His body burned, and his conscious mind always went on a vacation trip. Hunter hadn't done drugs; though he imagine it would feel something like it.

The clone had always had a fair share of silent admirors. Woman were usually attracted to his toned muscles and tattoos, his overall misteriousness; men liked his long hair and narrow waist. The attention had nothing but increased with the release of his feromones; but he had promised himself he wasn't going to grow distracted by any pretentious alpha, and... Well, he technically hadn't. Because Einarr wasn't pretentious.

Einarr Barkla had been a mandalorian bounty hunter they had crossed paths with for one of Cid's chaotic missions. Between his knowledge of Mando'a, his precision with a blaster, and his calm and soothing personality, Hunter had jumped from simple genuine admiration to a hopeless crush in a blink of an eye. While Hunter fought against his natural instincts, trying to shove everything down, Einarr had continued adressing him with unwavering politeness; not making a single comment about his very obvious feelings, noticing the omega's trouble.

After two months of torture, it was Hunter who had finally confronted him; perhaps not in the best of ways. He had all but pushed Einarr against a wall; asking him to stop playing mindgames in an angry snarl. When a frowning, confused Einarr had questioned him about it, Hunter had hissed that he knew exactly what he meant; that he was using his feromones to call him, that he smelled him everywhere, from miles away, and that he was fucking tired of it. After hearing the rest of his synthoms, Einarr's expresion had switched from irritation and confusion to amusement; and for once, Hunter knew what cheekiness looked like in the mandalorian.

"I don't know, Hunter. Sounds like your omega side likes me" he had smirked at him.

Hunter's eyes had widened in a mix of surprise and realisation.

"Why does this come to you as a surprise?" Einarr had asked, confusion making a come back. "Surely you've experienced this before..."

Hunter had still been too out of place to have the mind to lie about it.

"No. I haven't... I've been on surpresants all my life. I've just recently come off".

Surprise and understanding had mixed on the bounty hunter's face. Einar had placed a warm hand on his shoulder in a comforting way.

"Oh. It's alright, Hunter. You'll learn to get used to it and filter things with time, then".

The sergeant liked his emotional intelligence oh so much... Hearing those soothing words did things to his insides.

He had tilted his head up –Einarr was fucking tall–; and the man must had seen something on his eyes, for he had smiled softly but sensually.

"Do you want something from me, mesh'la?" He had asked; and Hunter had almost whined.

The rest was history. They had been together for a whole year now; a year that started with exciting –and sometimes scary– exploration and ended in wonderfull, safe understanding. By now, Hunter knew every inch of his body; his omega side, his want and needs, his limits... And all of Einarr's. He really was an excellent alpha; he was lucky to have him.

<< Have him... Yeah... Cock inside me, please... >>

In the present time, Hunter's mind was already spinning. He had started his heat half an hour ago; retired to Einarr's apartment as soon as he had detected the synthoms starting. He went through his mental list; lock all windows and doors, send Einarr a mesage, place the water bottle besides the bed, lubricant, and get completely naked. He knew his alpha would come home as soon as he could. His alpha...

Hunter moaned, inevitable humping against the matress at the thought of his boyfriend coming home to help him.

"Alpha, alpha, alpha..." he chanted in a whisper, almost in automatic. Then, a key was introduced in the front door, sending an electric shock through Hunter's bent spine. "Alpha!"

This time he called for him out loud, and he received an answer back.

"Hey, handsome" his voice was low and gentle. His figure inmediately stepping into the bedroom and taking the scene in. "Mm. As ready and good as always".

Hunter whimpered; back bending so that his ass was stuck up in the air and forehead almost resting against the matress. He had been extremely selfconscious of this position in the past; but a lot of time and love had happened since then.

"Please..." he could do little more than beg. "Einarr..."

"Shh" the alpha soothed him, undressing as quick as he could and kneeling in the bed behind him. "I got you, baby. I'm here".

Einarr brushed a kiss on a hip, hands coming up to caress his shoulders and spine; and Hunter sighed, turning into a puddle at the reverent attention. His mind swimmed in happiness.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous" the mandalorian whispered. One big hand travelled down between his legs, teasing the wetness he found there. "Did you play with yourself while I was away?"

Hunter moaned and squirmed. His cheeks warmed.

"Just a bit" he confessed. "I... It was too... I tried waiting..."

Einarr smiled.

"Mm. It's okay, darling, no need to get your mind in a twist. You know I don't care if you give yourself an orgasm to try to relax a little. I know I'll be able to pull a few more from you afterwards..." Einarr sinked a finger into Hunter's hole, and the omega clenched around the please t intrusion.

"F-fuck" he panted. "Y-yes, Nar, please..."

"More?" The alpha asked with a smile, eyes darkened and voice slightly raspy.

Hunter nodded at least four times.

"Yes, please..."

"Mm" he answered, and gave him what he asked for.

Soon, Einarr had three fingers inside of Hunter; and the beautiful man started to beg for his cock.

"Please, please. Your cock... Please, give me your cock..."

The alpha groaned. He slipped his fingers off; then lined up his hard on over Hunter's entrance, teasing with just the tip.

"More" the omega whined, own hips moving back and trying to impale himself impatiently.

"Here you go, baby" the man answered, holding himself and firmly and slowly pushing in.

Hunter's breathing hitched; voice quietening while he adjust and then breaking in a pleased whine.

"F-fuck, a-alpha...".

"Too much?" Einarr asked, waiting patiently, worried.

"No" the omega answered, releasing a happy sigh. "So, so big, so good..."

Hunter clenched; and the alpha moaned. His hands seized both sides of the smaller man's pretty waist.

"You feel incredible too, baby" he praised, and Hunter turned to smile at him, head still resting on the matress.

"Fuck me, please?" He asked, and the mandalorian could do nothing but obligue.

It was slow, sweet and gentle at first; though it was soon consumed by Hunter's heat and need and turned to a rough pounding. Hunter got reduced to endless whimpers and moans; fingers clenching around the bedsheets and eyes closed in bliss, half-bent half-slumped under his alpha's powerfull form.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes..." he chanted in tiny whispers, voice almost muffled against the matress of the bed.

One of Einarr's hand grabbed a handfull of his hair and tugged.

"F-fuck!" Hunter whined, voice forced into a proper deeper V, the spot his boyfriend was ramming slightly shifting inside of him.

"Wanna' hear you" the other man panted, still pouding inside of him. "Wanna' hear your pretty voice cry for me..."

"Alpha" Hunter all but cried to him, stimulation almost too much to handle for him. His body felt on fire, his wetness travelled down his thighs, his alpha was fucking him so good and deep and... "Please knot me. Please knot me, alpha, alpha..."

Einarr moaned at his lost babling. He loved when Hunter reached this state. Fuck, he was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

"Yeah?" He grunted with effort, tugging Hunter's hips back onto his cock. "Want me to knot you, little omega? Pump my cum deep into you?"

"Yes. Yes, please..." he really was a mess by now, but he didn't care. He felt loved and safe. "Alpha, please, put a pup in me..."

"F-fuck" Einarr's pacing stuttered. "Kriff, yes, gonna' fucking breed you, love, pretty, dirty little omega..."

"I'm gonna' cum" Hunter whined, one hand flying back to claw at Einarr's forearm. "I'm gonna' cum, gonna' cum, gonna' cum..."

Einarr groaned and sinked his teeth into Hunter's neck; hard enough to leave a temporary mark, but not enough to draw blood.

The omega cried and clenched around his cock, cumming in long, warm ropes onto the bedsheets. The beautiful sight of Hunter succumbing to the highest of his pleasure was more than enough to pull the alpha's own orgasm out of him; Einarr groaning one last time before pushing his hips flush with the omega's one and knotting him, pumping him full of his seed.

Strength abandoned him, and he more or less dropped on top of Hunter; trying to homd himself up to not crash him completely. The omega didn't look at all bothered by it; Hunter lowered both of them down slowly onto the matress, knot still connecting them, humming happily.

"You okay, handsome?" asked the alpha, kissing the back of his neck affectionately, breathing finally slowing.

Hunter hummed again, body relaxed and mind completely void of worries.

"Mm. Yeah" he turned his face to the side to smile softly at his boyfriend. "Love you, Nar. Thank you".

The alpha grinned. He really was the luckiest man on the galaxy. At least on Ord Mantell.

"Love you too, mesh'la".

THE END.

(Accepting omegaverse requests!)

Omegaverse masterlist here:

[hayanwulf]

Your Scent is An Oasis

Warnings: A/B/O, Heat/Rut Cycles, Referenced Torture, Captivity, Mention of Past Rape

There will be sequel, and things will get better. :)

---

“Stark.”

Tony didn’t have enough energy to respond, or even look the wizard’s way. He resorted to letting out a low groan in response.

“Are you in heat?”

No shit, Sherlock, he wanted to respond. God he really tried to. He thought that he might’ve been more successful had he not had an uncountable number of injuries all over his body, many of which still bled. His mind was a haze from all the pain, his heightened senses compounding onto it. He didn’t know how was he still conscious.

“Oh god,” That baritone voice whispered. There was some shuffling sounds as a presence crept closer to his body, smelling too strongly of blood to discern any other scents. Then, something touched his shoulder and he immediately flinched away, a small whimper escaping his lips even as he tried his hardest to control his reaction.

This was like Afghanistan all over again, just worse.

He’d been badly injured even then. He’d been pushed into a heat without the availability of suppressants. He’d been..

He’d been trapped. He’d felt helpless. He’d felt terrified as he had progressively lost more and more of his conscious thoughts to the haze of his heat.

He’d been.. violated.

Now he was once again so far away from home — trillions of miles — encaged aboard his greatest enemy’s spaceship with Strange, both of them being coerced into giving up the location of the Time Stone. There were no suppressants, because why would aliens care about those? Even the food they got was just barely enough to keep them alive.

And no one was going to come to their rescue.

He was trapped here. Trapped in this small grimy room with no escape & no tools, with an unknown Alpha. His entire body’s nerves screamed in pain, his throat felt parched, he was losing his sanity, barely at the edge of consciousness—

“Stark, let me help you.”

“No!” He somehow managed to yell out even though it hurt his throat, his body lurching further away from the Alpha that sat not two feet away. He looked up at Strange like a frightened animal, curling in on himself, bad memories of the past flooding his thoughts. He might have been shivering too. He wouldn’t know.

There is no escape.

“Stark..” The Alpha carefully raised his hands in surrender. “I just want to help. Your body will overload itself trying to compensate for both your injuries and your heat.”

No one will come for you.

Tony was vaguely aware that he was shaking his head in denial. It was futile. His conscious mind — was he even conscious anymore? — knew that there was nowhere to run, no way to prevent it. They were in a small room with no exit. If the Alpha wanted him, he’ll have him no matter how much Tony denied or thrashed or tried to fight back.

Contrary to his expectation, though, the Alpha did not pound on him, nor used his Voice, nor showed any sign of anger for Tony’s misbehavior. Did not even move from his place. He just.. sat there, the blue eyes carefully observing Tony.

“Stark.. Tony, I’m not going to do anything to you. I’ll just stay by your side and let you scent me. That’s all I will do, I swear. It will alleviate some of the pain and make you feel better. Let me help.”

Tony twitched a little in place, expecting a catch. Maybe it was a lie. Maybe it was some cruel, twisted kind of fake reprieve before the Alpha would pin him down and have his way with Tony, laughing maniacally at him for even considering for a second that he was going to be spared kindness.

Again, instead of doing any of that, the Alpha simply made himself comfortable where he sat on the floor, his eyes watching Tony. “Come to me?” The Alpha asked, extending a shaking hand.

Tony looked down at the hand and found it bathed in blood. His chest ached at the sight.

It cleared some of the haze of terror from Tony’s mind and he found himself looking back up at the sorcerer’s face.

There was blood still trickling down the cuts on his face. His robes which used to be dark blue once, now seemed to be a much darker shade with the blotches and stains of dried blood everywhere. He even smelled of copper, gone was that pleasant scent that Tony had caught that day in the Central Park. He still remembered it though. It had been like fresh tea leaves and rain and incense.

Just like himself, Strange was just a prisoner. Trapped. Injured. Suffering. Possibly starved.

Logic and common sense seemed to return to him, and he wanted to kick himself for reacting the way he had. He supposed, though, it didn’t matter. They had learned to let go of their walls and just.. be vulnerable around each other inside their cell. If they didn’t let it out here, they would break out there, during one of those sessions.

He took a second to take a few deep breaths, then nodded towards his companion, and started to shift himself closer to the sorcerer with whatever energy was left in his limbs. Once he was close enough, he allowed himself to fall on the Alpha’s body, who caught it, thought not without a grunt of pain.

Strange guided Tony’s head into his neck, and Tony sucked in a sharp breath when he smelled fresh tea leaves and rain through the overwhelming scent of copper. Only now was he also aware of the calming scents Strange had been trying to send to him. He weakly wrapped his arms around the Alpha, for the little help that they would do, and tried to bury his face into the neck. Something obstructed him, and he opened his eyes, frowning.

Oh, the collar.

The goddamn collar around Strange’s neck that blocked his magic.

Tony whimpered a little, trying to bury his face as much as he could on Strange’s neck, trying to inhale as much of that pleasant, calming scent as he could, trying to ignore the bite of metallic scent in the air. Strange wrapped his own weak arms around Tony’s body, both on them leaning onto each other.

In the end Tony couldn’t scent nearly enough, but what he could was still an oasis in the middle of a hot Afghan desert.