#the omega lewis fic

[forzafe44ari]

everything heaven allowed

sewis (sebastian vettel x lewis hamilton) | E | abo | 1/? | 14.6k

lewis hamilton is an omega. he is also the greatest racing driver of all time. these two facts are incidental. nonetheless, they are effortlessly entwined. in which, lewis tells the world who he is (and who that is, he has yet to meet). or: a bildungsroman, and a love story, told in several acts.

NOMY'S NOTES: title from 'man at the garden' by kendrick lamar, particularly the last verse. the fic itself is inspired by @n-ico-ando's lewis-in-heat post found here. this is a writing exercise for me. this is my second rpf fic (be gentle) and i finally wanted to tackle the elusive abo fic. i've read many but never written one myself, and i really wanted to write a fic that explores that intersection of gender, race, and sexuality in sports, and at the same time, i wanted to write a later-in-life coming of age story. i hope you like it!

read on ao3: here

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

the same sweet shock | alpha!rhett x omega!oc

Summary: Tessa, an omega, has a problem. She can't seem to get laid and she needs it - desperately. And when her friends suggest that she go off her suppressants for a bonfire she might just get more than she bargained for. (wc: 5288)

Warnings: omegaverse stuff/lore (of which i am not well verse do not hang me), language, background ocs, a flashback, a pinch of angst, alpha!rhett abbott my beloved, trevor is a dick, attempted assault, protective rhett, SOME FAIRLY SEXUAL CONTENT OBVS SO 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI (masturbation mention and thigh riding)

✎……listen i...something came over me...and i already have bits and pieces of the second part written so like...lemme know if ya want more

✎……MASTERLIST || NEXT INSTALLMENT

“Guys, I don’know about this…” Tessa sighed as she glanced warily down at the injection needle in her hand, filled with a blue liquid.

Her suppressant dose for the following day that she usually injected just before going to sleep. But now there she sat on her bed, rolling the syringe in her hand — filled with the thing she was always told would keep her safe — debating whether or not she should take it. Just because her friends had a semi-decent point: 

It had been nearly a year since she had sex, and she needed it, desperately. 

She felt like a spring wound too tight, ready to explode with all that built up energy and force. And no matter what she did, no matter how many new toys she bought and tried out, nothing helped. It just created a stronger itch, a stronger desire. To be well and truly fucked by someone else. Held in their arms and kissed and maybe even wanted for a night. But, yet again, no matter what she did, she couldn’t find the right person to hook up with. One night stands were never her thing, and living in a small town where everyone knew everyone and she went to high school with every guy around her age, made it difficult. 

Well, she might have found someone she could see getting in bed with, but he was just a friend. Even if, for the past several months, every night when she touched herself she thought of him.

She knew you weren’t supposed to think of friends that way. But it was hard when that friend was none other than Rhett Abbott. The boy she had a crush on in high school but had only recently reconnected with. The man who, half the time, she couldn’t tell was flirting with her or not. Who looked so good in a pair of Wranglers and a stetson; rode bulls like an artist would paint. Who grinned at her like they shared some secret and blinked at her bashfully when she complimented him. How was she supposed to not think about him that way?

But it wasn’t just her lack of sex life that left her anxious and irritated most nights. It was that ever-present and gnawing feeling that there was something missing. Like there was some itch she couldn’t quite scratch. Like she left something behind and she couldn’t remember what or where. But she knew it was gone. Knew there was a hole where it should be. A gaping emptiness in her that she feared, one of these days, would consume her whole. 

She knew, on some base instinct, what it was she was missing. What it was her biology craved and longed for. But it was something she was unsure if she’d ever be able to have.

“S’gonna guarantee y’get laid, that’s f’r sure,” Chessler replied from the video call on Tessa’s laptop she was on. 

“Or I get torn t’pieces,” Tessa said.

“Oh, y’won’t get torn t’pieces!” Laney scoffed with a flick of her hand. “All them stories’re exagerated!” 

Like you’d know, Tessa thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. It was difficult being the only Omega in her friend group. They were all Betas, they didn’t have to worry about heats or anything like that. They got to live normal lives for the most part. They didn’t have to worry if their supply was running low or get turned away from jobs just because of their biology. Jealousy, green and ugly, snagged at Tessa’s heart as she gripped the syringe tighter in her grip. 

“We even know if any Alphas’re gonna be at the party?” Riley asked.

“Walker’ll be there, but ll’keep’im distracted.” Laney winked and the rest of them groaned. 

“Pretty sure Cash n’his brother Trip’re comin’.”

“The Jenkin’s boys? Haven’t they been workin’ in Cheyenne?” Tessa questioned.

“I don’know tha’s just wha’I heard.” Chessler shrugged. 

Tessa took a deep breath, moved the syringe to her other hand. “Trevor’ll prolly be there…”

Trevor Tillerson. She was with him for a few months, the last man to ever touch her. And if she could go back in time and slap her younger self for getting with him, she would. He seemed nice at first. Made her feel special and showered her with gifts. That was, until he figured out she was an Omega. Then suddenly it was all pressure to get off her suppressants and expectations for her to submit to him like the Omega she was — like the Alpha he was. She broke it off and he got mad. It opened up something deep and terrifying within her to wonder what he would do if he caught her off her suppressants and possibly in a heat.

“N’so’ll Rhett,” Riley pointed out with a knowing grin.

“Yes! Rhett Abbott! Oh, s’perfect!” Laney squealed.

“Guys, we — we don’even know f’r sure if he’s an Alpha,” Tessa said, her entire face feeling hot as she looked down at her injection needle again.

“Babe, there’s no way he’s not. Have y’seen’im?” 

“Yeah, no Beta’s that confident or has that kinda…Presence.”

“S’just that…He’s never mentioned it…” she replied. 

“Maybe he’s the type t’keep it to himself. Plenty people like that.”

“Not everyone’s a complete dick about it like Trevor.”

“I guess, but…I don’know, m’just scared of what’ll happen,” Tessa said.

“Look, how ‘bout this,” Riley jumped in, “You don’take y’r suppressant tonight n’go t’the bonfire tomorrow with all those Omega hormones lurin’ the boys in, n’we’ll make sure nobody unsavory gets anywhere near ya. Deal?”

Laney and Chessler nodded in agreement. And while Tessa was still scared, still terrified that it would only end in disaster like her parents had warned so many times before, she agreed. Set her suppressant aside with a dramatic flourish so her friends could see over the video call.

What could possibly go wrong?

She felt fine for most of the day. Even normal. Going about her usual routine with only a knot of worry growing and twisting in her stomach. Mostly about what would happen that night at the bonfire, when she knew she would be surrounded by Alphas and Betas alike. She didn’t feel a heat coming on, though she hadn’t dealt with one since she was a teenager.

Tessa remembered what it felt like, despite the passage of time. Despite only experiencing it once before her parents took her to the doctor and got her on suppressants. The signs and symptoms burned into her. The memories of those days locked in her bedroom etched into her mind.

It was mostly confusion. Hatred of her own self for being this way instead of normal like all her friends. Pain and just wanting it to stop. Some instinct from deep within calling out for her Alpha to come and help her. Make it go away. Knowing that everything would be good when he was there. And it still brought some sort of embarrassment and shame to her heart that even back then, the face that came to her when she begged for her Alpha to come, was Rhett’s.

The pain started as her sister was driving her to school. Her breasts felt sore and swollen, a swirling in her gut that she couldn’t quite explain. Shiloh asked if she was alright as she pulled up in front of the school, and Tessa assured her everything was fine. Just some odd pains that she really didn’t feel like discussing with her sister in the school parking lot. It would probably go away in a few minutes.

But it didn’t. It only grew worse. By third period biology Tessa was squirming in her seat. She felt desperate for any sort of friction, everything felt swollen and wet. Hot all over and head spinning so much she couldn’t concentrate on the lesson. Her stomach was even beginning to cramp, jolts of pain with her mind screaming empty at her. 

She didn’t understand, she didn’t understand. 

And it certainly wasn’t helping that Rhett Abbott kept looking back at her every five seconds with a hungry look in his eye. 

After class, she called her mother in tears. Trying to explain without going into too many details how she was feeling and that she just wanted to go home. A bleak understanding took over her mother’s voice when she told Tessa to go to the nurse and wait for her to come get her. Tessa didn’t like the sound of it. Was she dying?

She went to the nurse and again tried to tell her what was happening. Stumbling over words and symptoms even as she felt sweat sticking to her shirt and her head became more and more clouded. Stuffed up like there was nothing else in there besides empty and Alpha. Again, understanding took over the nurse’s face and Tessa felt a sense of dread mix in with everything else as she was directed to take a seat. 

The nurse said something about making a call but Tessa couldn’t really hear her. Not when her heart was practically beating in her ears and she was trying desperately to hide the fact that she was rubbing her thighs together — trying to find some relief.

But she looked up, startled and afraid, when the door to the nurse’s station swung open.

And Rhett Abbott stood there staring at her with wide eyes, almost like he was shocked he was even there himself. Hair cropped short with a few curls dangling over his forehead, a line in it like he had been wearing a hat and been yelled at to take it off. He held a backpack with one strap on his shoulder. Lanky and tall and unaware of the fact as he took up nearly the entire doorway. 

They looked at one another for a moment. Tessa with her chest heaving and her vision going fuzzy, another cramp going through her when she caught some scent in the air. Leather and wet earth. It made something inside her ache. Made her hands itch to reach out for him, somehow knowing he could make everything better but not understanding why or how.

“M’sorry, I don’...” he trailed off as he took a step forward.

There was that smell again. So familiar, so calming — and yet she had to grip her stomach as it cramped. A whimper tumbled past her lips as she felt the first tears slip out. Rhett made to drop his backpack, take the last few strides to cross the room to her. 

But then the nurse came back into the room and gasped at the sight of him. 

“Rhett Abbott you get outta here right now! Out!”

It was a memory she didn’t like to think back on. That made her cheeks heat and her palms sweat and something inside her ache. But still that scent came to her from time to time. Leather and wet earth. Rhett, something inside her whispered every time and she had to force it down. No. Nothing ever came of it. He wouldn’t even really look at her when she came back to school a week later and hadn’t talked to her up until a few months ago. She wondered if he even remembered that day. When they both somehow knew he could fix what was wrong with her. 

Maybe that was why she tried to deny that he was an Alpha. Maybe that was why she feared going to the bonfire in the state she was in, knowing he would be there.

What if he got pulled away from her again? What if he just rejected her like she had heard Alphas do before? The worry and fear grew inside her, an open pit she was on the edge of falling into.

Riley came and picked her up for the bonfire around eight. It was a perfect summer evening. The sun already starting to dip between the trees but the sky still a brilliant shade of blue. The air was just beginning to cool from sweltering hot to a more bearable temperature. Perfect for a bonfire out in the middle of someone’s back field.

“Ya woulda looked cute n’a dress s’all m’sayin’,” Riley commented as they pulled out of Tessa’s driveway and out onto the main road. 

Tessa looked down at her old pair of jeans and quarter zip. Something comfortable when she felt distinctly uncomfortable was at least sort of helpful. She wasn’t about to wear a dress to a bonfire, something she would never do normally, just because she was looking to get laid. Or claimed? Or fucked? Or…Something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on?

“N’freeze my ass off? No thank you,” she replied lightly with a smile.

Riley gave her a sidelong glance, curiosity bubbling in her deep brown eyes. “So…How ya feelin’?”

“I — I really can’t tell,” she sighed, “I mostly feel nervous. But I can’tell if m’just doin’ that thing where y’give y’rself symptoms? Like I expect ‘em t’be there so there they are?”

“Like what?”

“Like my tits hurt.” Riley laughed and she had to shut her up with a playful smack to the arm. “M’bein’ serious! They’re sensitive!”

“What, like y’re pregnant?” Riley chuckled again.

“No, not like that.”

But the thought, the thought of being pregnant and filled, brought one screaming idea to the forefront: empty. An unconscious hand moved to rest over her stomach. Just like when she got her first heat back in eleventh grade. With a deep breath, she shoved it down deep inside herself. Smashed it up into a box and locked it up tight.

She wasn’t going into heat. She wasn’t going into heat. She wasn’t going into heat. It was just one missed suppressant dose. Surely it couldn’t do that much damage.

“You do smell different,” Riley commented.

Tessa looked over at her with furrowed brows. “How can y’tell?”

“I may be jus’a Beta but I can still smell the…You coming off ya. S’kinda strong.”

“Doesn’t smell bad, does it?”

“No! S’like uh — like — this’s gonna sound weird, don’judge me — like early mornings and honeysuckle,” Riley said with a chuckle.

“That’s…Oddly specific.” 

“You asked!”

The bonfire was at Olivia Barlow’s family ranch, out in their south pasture. A small thing that made quality, pricey beef that got shipped all over the country. And there were at least twenty other cars there by the time Riley and Tessa pulled in. 

Probably more people than Olivia told her parents would be there. But it wasn’t like they were going to know or mind. They were miles away from the house and they were all adults. Or at least pretended like they were during business hours. Now though, now it was like they were all back in high school. Passing around coolers and kegs of beer and dancing to country music blaring from someone’s sound system in their truck. A classic Wabang bonfire if Tessa ever saw one.

By the time Riley and Tessa joined their other friends closer to the massive fire with grey smoke billowing up into the darkening sky, they already had chilled drinks pressed into their hands. And Tessa had nearly forgotten about her suppressants and her heat and the soreness in her breasts.

And the beginning aching feeling between her legs. 

That was, until Rhett joined their group. Grinned at her all shy and small and gave her another drink because he saw hers was empty. Stood close to her side as he listened to the long time friends chat and laughing when he would catch Tessa’s eye. Until, somehow, it was just the two of them. Standing by the fire and talking about games he had been playing recently and shows she liked. About their days on the high school rodeo team and memories they didn’t even realize they shared. 

It astounded her how easy it was to talk to Rhett. How naturally their conversations flowed and how normal it felt to stand so close to him. To feel the heat coming off of him and feel his breath, like cheap beer and chewing tobacco, against her face. And she didn’t even mind it. She felt safe and cared for and thought of when she was with Rhett. And she couldn’t help the yearning and longing and love that welled up inside her as she looked up into his deep blue eyes illuminated by the fire’s glow — half shadowed by the bill of his trucker-cap.

“You smell nice,” he suddenly muttered, voice deep and graveled as he flashed her a small smile.

A heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Thanks.” 

“S’like honeysuckle,” he went on, narrowed his eyes at her slightly. “S’it new?”

“N-No. M’not — M’not even wearin’ anythin’.” 

Rhett grunted at that, those cobalt eyes flicking down then up again as he looked at her. As he took a step closer. “I’member that smell.”

Leather and wet earth. The scent of it filled her lungs and made her breathe clearly for what felt like the first time in years.

The heat spread everywhere. Like she was standing in the fire and didn’t care if she burned. Her mind became blissfully blank as she stared up at him. As a flood of arousal soaked her panties. And she watched, unable to move in fear of breaking the spell, as Rhett’s eyes darkened. Like he could sense it. His hand reached for her and she stepped just that little bit closer.

“Holy shit! Tess Abernathy’s about to put out ladies n’gentlemen!” A loud, boisterous voice exclaimed as an arm was thrown around Tessa’s shoulders.

And the spell was broken.

Rhett snapped his head up to look at who was now hanging all over her. Eyes darkened by something else now. She knew who it was. She didn’t have to look over to know.

“Fuck off, Trevor,” Rhett hissed.

“Oh, come on now, Abbott. Jus’a little fun,” Trevor replied, squeezing Tessa in closer to his side. “Isn’t that right, little Omega?”

Tessa felt tears sting the backs of her eyes as she looked around. Everyone was trying to just stick to their own conversations, but she could tell they were looking over. Glancing and whispering and talking. It was like the fire was inside her very chest. She tried to pull away from Trevor but he just pulled her in tighter. Arm nearly curled around her neck.

And she couldn’t help but feel some shame when Rhett glanced at her when he said the word Omega.

“What? You didn’know?” Trevor laughed, “Big Alpha like yourself an’you can’t just smell it on her? She fucking reeks. Practically screamin’ f’r someone t’breed her.”

Ashes and deer hide — Trevor’s scent that always made her feel nauseous. 

With his arm around her neck, Rhett looking at her like that, and Trevor’s scent choking her lungs — she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Could feel a cramp beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. The world turning hazy as her thoughts blurred and blended together. She just needed to get away. Needed to find some place alone and secluded so she could try to breathe and maybe get ahold of Riley to take her home.

She managed to slip out from under Trevor as Rhett charged forward. Poking a finger into his chest and grumbling out something about just shutting his mouth and leaving her alone.

The cramp, powerful and immobilizing, finally overcame her as she stumbled away from the two of them. Into the small patch of trees in the Barlow’s south pasture, just outside the edge of the bonfire’s circumference. The sounds of the party faded into background noise as she tumbled past the thicket line. Where a larger tree stood just beyond that she found purchase against. 

The rough bark was grounding against her palms. Brought her back to her body and what needed to be done. She felt like she was boiling. Between her legs felt slick and swollen, desperate for attention. Her heart beat rapidly inside her chest and even she knew, from the way eyes followed her as she stalked away, that people knew. They knew she was an Omega about to start her heat.

And she was doomed.

Turning, she leaned back against the thick trunk and took in a deep, shaking breath. She wasn’t in a full heat yet. But she was just on the precipice. Anything could set her off. She needed to get home and fast. Hopefully, if she took her suppressant and just laid down for the night the symptoms would subside. If only her hands would stop shaking enough to pull her phone out of her pocket. 

“There you are, little Omega,” Trevor called out quietly, followed by the breaking of branches. 

Her head snapped up to see him walking slowly towards her. Devilish smile on his face as he flicked his blond hair out of his eyes. He was wearing some ridiculous “Western” purple button up with a shining belt buckle he had not earned. Another cramp ripped through her abdomen as his scent filled her nostrils.

“No,” she managed to mutter out as she pointed weakly back at the party.

“No? You can’t be serious right now. You need me,” he replied, still continuing closer. 

And all she could do was try to back herself further up against the trunk. Praying by some miracle the bark would open up and swallow her whole. The closer he got, the heavier it felt she was becoming. She sagged against the tree. Her mind fogged of nothing but empty and Alpha. Trevor could fill her. Trevor was an Alpha. 

“Y’re about t’go into heat, aren’t you?” Trevor questioned, so close now all she could smell was him, could feel his breath on her face. “Need me t’knot you up n’knock you up, don’t you? Let me be your Alpha, baby.”

Yes. “No.”

The single word came out slurred, slow and heavy on her tongue. Trevor just chuckled and pulled in close. Put one hand on her waist as he leaned down, mouth brushing over that swollen gland in her neck that made her shudder. Suddenly, she was taken back to when the two of them were like this before. When he got tired of asking and nearly bit into her mating gland. Nearly forced her to be with him for the rest of her life — against her will. She had screamed then and she opened her mouth to do it again. But it was like her muscles wouldn’t quite work. The sound wouldn’t quite come up and out of her throat. All she could manage was some broken squeak as she pushed weakly at his chest.

“Don’fight it, you know you want it.” 

She did want it. She wanted to be filled and touched and knotted and just full for once in her life. But she didn’t want it from Trevor Tillerson. She tried to scream again but still, nothing came out besides another garbled no that Trevor didn’t heed and a few tears. 

Then suddenly, Trevor was yanked away from her. Leaving her cold and barely able to hold herself up as her knees buckled, her back slipping down the rough bark.

Leather and wet earth. Rhett.

She looked up just in time to see Rhett push Trevor away, the two of them chest to chest as Rhett backed him away from her. 

“You touch her again n’I’m gonna put you in the fucking ground,” Rhett seethed as he stared Trevor down.

A gush of arousal soaked her panties as she whimpered, hand gripping her stomach as another cramp hit her at full force. She was panting and doubled over and clawing at the tree to try and stabalize herself. But it was no use.

Rhett looked over his shoulder at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern. His nostrils flared as his eyes darkened beneath his cap, something like understanding taking over his features.

And Trevor laughed. “You can smell it now can’t ya? That little Omega’s in heat n’somebody needs t’claim her before the Jenkins brothers get over here and tear her limb from limb. N’she’s mine. Always has been, always will be.” 

Turning back to look at him with eyebrows pulled low and a curl in his lip, Rhett practically snarled before he pulled back his fist and got Trevor with his knuckles square in the jaw. Trevor retaliated with a growl, tackling Rhett in the chest. But Rhett didn’t go down, he only stumbled back a few steps, and another few when Trevor’s fist connected with his side. But with another shove and another punch to the face, Trevor was flat on his back, staring up at the stars with a groan.

Rhett turned to Tessa immediately.

She was still leaning back against the trunk of the tree, chest heaving as she clutched at her stomach. She could barely think, thoughts all consumed by the slick between her legs and the empty feeling in her chest, but someone was coming. Probably Cash and Trip, maybe even Walker, lured in by the scent of her heat. Her heat that had been set off completely, brought on by an Alpha defending her.

Rhett Abbott defended her. Protected her. He was so good. A good Alpha. He would treat her well. He would make everything better, just like she always knew he would. He would make everything alright…

“Tess, you okay?” Rhett asked quietly.

She didn’t even realize he had moved from standing over Trevor. Not until one of his big hands cupped her cheek and forced her to look up into his face. His expression crumbled at the sight. A soft groan slipped past his lips. No doubt her face was flushed. Her eyes half-lidded and pupils blown to consume all of their usual blue. He squeezed her cheek just a little harder, drew in just a fraction closer. 

“Fuck, sunshine…” he whispered under his breath.

Her hands, against her own will, shot out to him. Took hold of his waist and tried to pull him in closer. Get him inside her skin. Alpha, who would make everything good.

“Please,” she heard herself say, but did not realize her mouth had opened. “Hurts.”

Rhett groaned again, ripped off his hat so he could press his forehead against her own. “I know, I know. You got…Got any’a that medicine with ya?”

“N-No, I didn’t think…” Her throat swelled with tears before she could finish, tears blurring her vision as she let out the smallest sob.

She didn’t think this would happen. She didn’t want this to happen. If she could, she would slap herself for agreeing to this scheme. Just to get laid. Another sob slipped out of her as Rhett shushed her. 

Her stomach cramped again and she fell forward into his chest. He caught her with ease, unintentionally putting one thigh between her spread legs to help keep her upright. A whimper escaped her at the sudden contact, her hips wriggling against all logical thought to get more friction. To just make the pain stop. 

“Fuck, this isn’t how I wanted t’do this,” Rhett muttered as his hands fell to her hips.

No, no, no, no, he doesn’t want me, she thought. And it took all of her remaining will power to stop her minute movements, a whine punching out of her as she looked back into his face. “M’sorry, m’sorry —”

A twig snapped somewhere to the west, from the direction of the party, and Rhett hunched over her further. Nearly curled around her as he pressed a hand into the tree bark and leaned in close to that swollen gland in her neck. From his behavior, other Alphas and Betas were coming. Drawn in by her scent or just curious as to what the commotion was all about. Either way, she didn’t want to be seen like this. In the middle of a heat, in the middle of nowhere, with an Alpha she was sure was about to reject her.

“M’not gonna bite ya, promise,” he whispered, before tilting his head, presenting the side of his own strong neck to her. “Just gon’mark ya. Let everyone know to fuck off.” 

In a moment, she was overwhelmed by his scent. It filled her lungs, her pores, her very soul. He scent marked her. Let the world know she was his and his only. At least for the night. Rhett growled as he shoved in closer to her, head turning to sink his teeth into the hinge of her jaw. A tiny scrap of his canines that left her moaning. Alpha Alpha Alpha. It made her head spin and her knees fail her once more. Her hips dropped even harder onto his thigh, and she moaned as he guided her to move against him. Not tentative and trying to be impreceptible, but purposeful rolls against his jean clad leg. It was like ice on burns as she threw her head back and gripped tightly at his shirt. 

“Wanted this t’be your choice,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“W-What?” she asked, some clarity returning to her as the ache was eased between her legs.

“Tess, I’ve been thinkin’ about you n’y’r heat — n’y’r smell’ve honeysuckle n’early morning air since I’s seventeen,” he gruffed out, lips pressed to her temple. “You…I think y’were always meant t’be my Omega n’I just — after meetin’ you again — fuck, I wanted t’take it slow.”

In response, she whined wantonly, openly. High in her throat with her head thrown back and hips working even faster against his leg. He wants me, he wants me, he wants me.

“Y-Your Omega,” she stuttered out with a breathless smile.

Rhett grinned back at her, nudged his nose with her own. “Yeah. Mine.”

More rustling from the west. And Rhett snapped his head up to look at who was intruding on them. Teeth practically bared as he blocked her from view. Tessa ducked in close to his chest, trying to hide. Her hips stopped moving on instinct. Embarrassment and thoughts of her Alpha protecting her flooding her veins.

“Fuck off,” he growled to whoever it was.

“Shit, Abbott got here first,” the distinct voice of a Jenkins brother said, most likely to the other.

“S’not too late, y’could just pass��er off when y’re done with her. Let us have a turn,” the other Jenkins said, “She smelled real fuckin’ pretty before you covered it up.”

“I said fuck off, she’s mine,” Rhett repeated on a bark, voice echoing through the trees.

“Alright, alright, okay. We’ll back off.”

Rhett turned his attention back to her, hand tilting her face up to look at him again with the softest expression she didn’t think he was capable of. Eyes big and blue as the near nightime sky. A piece of hair he now kept long dangled in front of his face. She wanted to push it back, knowing he didn’t like it in his eyes. But her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. She could barely lift her arm from his waist before it fell against his chest.

“We need t’get you outta here,” he whispered, calloused fingers slipping down to massage gently into her swollen gland. “Somewhere safe.” 

“Home?” she mumbled back.

“I don’know if y’re gonna be able t’make it all the way home, sunshine. We could go t’my place? S’close — five minutes. If y’re okay wi’that.”

His place. Surrounded by his smell and his things and him. Tessa was nodding before she knew she even had an answer. And Rhett smiled as he pressed his lips to her burning forehead. Then he scooped her up into his arms like she weighed nothing, head tucked into the crook of his neck, and he carried her away.

i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates

[nothingelsematterswrites]

fic: rest your weary head and let your heart decide (chapter seventeen)

Rating: Mature

Pairing: George Russell/Lewis Hamilton

Summary:

In which George receives some advice from an unexpected source, and is reunited with his friend.

rest your weary head and let your heart decide (chapter seventeen) @ AO3

[arathejedi394]

snippet from ch19 of into the dark

When they get to Saks, it is closed just like Steve was promised. Darcy, Peggy, and Angie all look horrified.

“Why is it closed!” Darcy whines. “What are we gonna do now!”

“Go in anyway,” Steve says, knocking on the door.

Someone comes to unlock it. Steve flashes his Seyrbakov ring, little that he needs to; his and Bucky’s wedding got leaked to the press by a caterer, so everyone knows what he looks like again.

“Welcome, Mr. Barnes,” they say. “My name is Victoria Hudson, I’m the manager. Please, please, come in.”

Darcy’s jaw drops. “Did you get the whole store closed just for us?”

“Yep,” Steve says.

They file in. Bucky’s right behind Steve and Steve can feel his gaze burning a hole in his jeans. His bodysuit has ridden up and exposes a bit of his back.

“This way,” Victoria tells him. “Your personal shoppers are Janice, Allie, Tisha, and Courtney. Please, anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. When I’ve shown you to your dressing room, would you like refreshments?”

“What do you have?” Steve asks.

“We have sodas, champagne, and wine – red and white,” Victoria says.

“I’ll take a Diet Coke,” Steve says. “Ladies?”

“Champagne!” Darcy says at once.

“Same,” Angie says.

“Red wine,” Peggy answers.

“I’ll fetch it right away,” Victoria assures Steve. “This way.”

They’re shown to a private dressing room on the first floor. The guards wait outside after inspecting it. Inside, their four personal shoppers bow and Victoria whisks away to fetch their refreshments. The personal shoppers introduce themselves as Bucky takes off his coat and falls onto a couch. Steve, to be mean to him, drops into his lap.

“No touching,” he says.

“G-ddammit,” Bucky mutters.

“Where would you like to start?” Allie asks.

“You’re the lovebirds,” Steve says to Peggy and Angie.

“Lingerie!” Angie says at once.

“G-ddammit,” Bucky repeats softly.

“We have a very wide selection,” Tisha says. “If you would please, we’ll get your measurements and then bring you one of everything.”

Steve gets up, shrugging off his jacket, which he drops into Bucky’s lap and Bucky puts to the side. Each of the four shoppers takes their measurements, then whisk out of the room again. Steve sets himself in Bucky’s lap again and then examines his nails.

“Youse wanna join me for mani/pedis after?” he asks.

“Is that even a question?” Darcy counters.

“Yes,” Peggy says.

“Fuck yeah,” Angie laughs.

Victoria arrives with two other employees and their refreshments. They bring in an entire cooler, filled with ice, Diet Coke, and three bottles of champagne, as well as a bottle of red wine. Victoria personally uncorks the bottles and fills the ladies' glasses. Steve just drinks out of the can. Bucky goes to take a Coke and Steve slaps his hand away.

“Would you also bring waters for my husband and our employees?” he asks Victoria.

“Certainly,” Victoria answers.

“Bucky, wallet,” Steve adds.

Bucky sighs and digs out his wallet. Steve pulls out three hundred dollars and tips all three of the Saks’ employees.

“Thanks!” one of the other two says.

After they leave, Steve then takes the time to count all the cash in Bucky’s wallet. Seven thousand. He puts four thousand aside for the personal shoppers, then tucks the rest away for the time being.

“I’m very sorry,” Bucky says again.

“I heard you the first time,” Steve says.

“What did he even do?” Angie asks.

“I woke up alone, he was working first thing in the morning on a Sunday which is his one day off, and he didn’t take his Xanax,” Steve says. Then whips around. “Did you take it when we got home?”

“Yes!” Bucky says.

“Good,” Steve answers, then turns back to the room.

“Man, I can’t wait to see what you’ll do if he seriously fucks up,” Angie says.

“Vacation,” Steve tells her. “Without him,” he adds with a dark look over his shoulder; Bucky raises his hands in surrender.

“Take us with you?” Darcy begs.

“Sure,” Steve says.

Darcy pumps a fist. Peggy sips her wine.

“I absolutely adore that we had no other friends in high school,” she says to Steve.

“I absolutely adore that we were buddied up in Fang!” Darcy laughs.

Their personal shoppers return, along with six other employees, carrying large baskets of lingerie, two for each of them. Steve gives a hundred dollars each to the other six employees, then gets up and just unzips his boots there. There’s only one changing room.

“You ladies mind a bit of nudity?” Steve asks, dropping one boot into Bucky’s lap.

“Not at all,” Tisha promises.

“G-ddammit,” Bucky hisses a third time.

Darcy grins and yanks off her top. Bucky hastily covers his eyes so he can only see Steve. Peggy and Angie go looking through their baskets first. Steve takes off his other boot, then unzips his jeans. He can feel Bucky peeking at him. Gleefully, Steve shoves them down. His bodysuit is a thong. Bucky sucks in a breath. Steve drops his jeans into Bucky’s lap, too, then shrugs off the sleeves of his bodysuit.

“Nu porți lenjerie intimă?” [Are you not wearing underwear?] Bucky asks sharply.

“Nope,” Steve says, slipping the garment off.

“Dă-ma dracului,” [Fuck me] Bucky exhales.

“Nope,” Steve repeats.

Darcy strips naked, too, and Bucky fully covers his eyes, crossing his legs. It’s nothing to do with Darcy. Steve goes into his lingerie baskets and sorts through items, setting aside everything he already doesn’t like, which is about a quarter of it. Tisha collects that, putting it aside to be returned. Peggy and Angie use the changing room, but he and Darcy are quite content to be naked and to try on everything then and there. Bucky can’t even see what Steve’s trying on because of Darcy and he grumbles about it in Romanian. Tisha assists Steve and Allie assists Darcy in trying on each piece. Steve decides another quarter isn’t worth buying, but takes the rest. Already, he’s spending almost forty thousand dollars. Darcy ends up with about twenty thousand dollars’ worth. Peggy and Angie come back out with armfuls of lingerie to buy and Steve looks over each piece to total them up; Peggy’s spending about fifteen thousand and Angie’s spending nearly thirty thousand. It’s been about two hours at that point.

“What would you like to see next?” Tisha asks.

“I think party clothes,” Steve says, looking at the ladies. “Good?”

“Fuck yeah,” Angie says.

“And matching shoes and accessories!” Darcy says.

“Yes,” Peggy agrees.

The shoppers get their preferences, then take back what’s been rejected and Steve pops open another Diet Coke.

“Do you have your clothes back on?” Bucky asks.

“Nope,” Steve says.

“I’ll put mine on,” Darcy laughs, slipping her top on without her bra.

Steve turns around as Bucky peeks from under his hand. Steve decides to be meaner and knocks Bucky’s ankle off his knee, then sits in his lap to sip his soda.

“Dă-ma dracului,” Bucky repeats softly, looking at Steve’s dick.

“How about we do mani/pedis tomorrow?” Steve suggests. “That way we can take our time here.”

“Boss, can I have the day off tomorrow?” Darcy asks, back in her jeans without her underwear.

“Yes,” Bucky says.

“I’m in,” Darcy says.

“If we do it after five,” Peggy answers, “I’ll be off work by then and Angie doesn’t work Mondays.”

“It’s a date,” Steve says. 

“Can we come over early and use the hot tub?” Darcy asks.

“Sure,” Steve tells her.

“You gonna ask me?” Bucky prompts.

“No,” Steve says.

Bucky sighs. He’s still looking at Steve’s dick and he’s getting hard. Steve will not stop the torture.

“Man, I love free champagne,” Angie sighs. “Pegs, can I get drunk?”

“If you’d like,” Peggy answers.

“Fuck yeah,” Angie says before kissing her.

[tyrannosaurus-maxy]

F1 RPF on AO3 x Omegaverse

Just a quick look at fics tagging the dynamics of characters in the F1 RPF fandom over on AO3. Of the ~42k fics, about 2.5k (or 6%) were tagged under the omegaverse.

I went through and analyzed each drivers' tags and here are what the most common designations are for the 15 drivers with the most omegaverse tags. This relies on authors tagging so it will miss fics that are not tagged.

Notes: omegaverse defined by the tags "alpha/beta/omega dynamics", which includes all associated sub-tags, per AO3's tagging system.

Feel free to check out the tag #f1 rpf analysis for more, and let me know what else you’d like to see!

A brief explanation of how tags are determined: AO3 has the concept of canonical tags, or common tags that can be filtered. All other tags referring to the same concept, including spelling and name variations, are linked to it as synonymous tags. For example, Kissing is a canonical additional tag. Kisses, all the kissing, and 亲吻 are synonymous tags for Kissing. I've replaced all such synonymous tags with their canonical tags for more accurate processing. This is based on the latest AO3 tags as of 9 Dec 2024 and may be updated by the official tag wranglers. There will be some errors especially if it is in the official system or at the fringes, but this system removes the ambiguity of different tagging systems (e.g. Nico/Lewis vs Lewis/Nico, or George Russell (Formula 1 RPF) vs George Russell (Racing Driver)

[fsbc-librarian]

Chapters: 1/31

Fandom: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Former James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, mentioned Steve Rogers/Lorraine, Former Steve Rogers/Cynthia Glass, implied Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, George Barnes (Marvel), Sam Wilson, Wade Wilson, Peter Parker, Logan Howlett, Sharon Carter (Marvel), Peggy Carter, Darcy Lewis, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Bucky Barnes, Former Spec Ops Steve Rogers, rich kid bucky, runaway groom, dive bar, unsavory elements, Excessive Drinking, Minor Age Gap, experience gap, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton has had enough, Clint Barton takes on more than he should, mentioned of sex workers, boarding house, First Time, discussion of non-con body modification, Blow Jobs, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Stalking, Anal Sex, Kidnapping, Gun Violence, Anal Fingering, Pregnancy Scares, mpreg exists in this 'verse but doesn't happen in this fic

Summary: Bucky Barnes is the only son of one of the wealthiest men in New York and has been forced to live as a beta in a world where male omegas are worthless .After learning what his father plans for his wedding ‘gift’, Bucky runs. Straight into the Full Moon bar, owned by Captain Steve Rogers, former spec-ops commander in the US Army.

This is his chance to learn to live life on his own terms, to embrace being an omega, to learn how the 99% live, and maybe find out a few more things about himself in the process. But what’s he going to do when his father comes looking for him?

[cherrari]

thank you to all the people who tagged me in this! i was originally not going to do it but i'm feeling manic so here we go. i am including every wip i can find in my folder no matter how little i wrote for it so i'm sorry in advance if something sounds good and then it turns out it's barely an idea. organized by ship because there's a lot lol

Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag as many people as you have WIPs. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!

lestappen

scentmates.com/findyourperfectmatch

max hiding being an alpha

anti-touch curse

one-way mind-reading

charles wakes up in the omegaverse and doesn't notice for like 6 days

actors au where charles punches max at the oscars

their fwb relationship gets leaked and their teams force them to pretend to be together for realsies <- there's actually 6 different docs with this exact idea. all with like 10k words in them

the opposite of alpha voice. omega voice

someone uncovers charles' r/aita post from 2019

android charles

accidental bonding

chalex

yuri (charles is bicurious edition)

yuri (charles doing alex's makeup edition)

yuri (alex hates all of charles' boyfriends edition)

race engineer alex

couple's retreat (they are not a couple)

girl charles boy charles boy alex

regular universe randomly turns into omegaverse and charles' dick falls off

sebchal

seb realises charles has been trying to fuck him since he was like 15

nasty gross girl charles het fic of my dreams

ferrari drivers get 24hr pussies whenever they win. ft. carlos cockblocking charles at the end

they get trapped in a cave together (literally) post-brazil

chewie

charles hooks up with all his teammates and. well

omega/omega forced bonding

lewis gets roped into a weird threesome with charlos

everyone thinks charles is knocked up

accidental bonding

charlando

yuri (yuri fic prequel charles pov edition)

yuri (yuri fic sequel seb pov edition)

yuri (girl alpha lando edition)

lando finds charlando yuri fanart and gets gender dysphoria over it

omega/omega where lando is uneasily attracted to charles' scent

charles gets turned into a lil mouse

accidental bonding

charlos

they broke up a year ago but carlos got into a car crash and thinks charles is still his boyfriend so he gives charles' number to the hospital

more forced bonding between teammates

wag yuri

charles mind games carlos into taking antipsychotics

accidental bonding

choscar

oscar's hormonal imbalance can only be cured by charles' pussy

oscar gets roped into starring in lando's student project film. 3 weeks later he's flying to la to star in an actual movie

oscar's public breakup does not go well so mclaren hires a paddock princess for him

charles wakes up as oscar's teammate. in mclaren :(

accidental bonding

landoscar

post-win lando wakes up with a pussy

lando walks in on oscar eating raw rabbit

lando's ao3 book club

lando thinks faking a relationship for clout would be funny but oscar doesn't agree so lando instead fakes a pining situationship

"carlando landoscar hellfic"

accidental bonding

galex

merc teammates

document titled "Copy of galex (real)(real)this one is real"

george presents at alex's birthday party then proceeds to hide it for like 15 years

[thetwelfthcrow]

pls rec max bottom fics? or omega.. him so catboy i'm obsessed! (please, it can be yours or anyone else's! i confess i have a favoritism for him being bottom in any shipp, but mainly in lewis and charles...)

bottom max coming right throughhhh babyyy!!!! 4433 only cause that's all i read 🫡

as alwayssss, if you have other recs, please put them down below or send them to me and i'll add them. these lists are never finished and will always get more fics as more fics get published <3

Want you to call me baby by individualist [@mediumtires] | 11k, explicit, complete

Lewis is retired and Max is dominating the sport. Turns out, Max really can’t deal with the pressure of it all.

o canada by leafycats | 7k, e-rated, complete

"The single text message he had received from Lewis hadn’t given much away, either. He could suspect, hope, even - but there’s no concrete way to know. Max hates the feeling, the uncertainty. Hates that he doesn’t even know if he can allow himself to hope after all of that. He still smells nice - must be the same cologne. October 9th, 2022 Lewis Hamilton: Congratulations on your win 🙂 You: Thank you 🙂 Today, 17:10 Lewis Hamilton: Hey man, want to debrief? Bar? You: Alright. Lewis must have noticed the internal turmoil Max is going through, because he breaks the odd silence. “I liked it, you know? The cooldown room. It felt nice, man.” It did feel nice, nicer than it has felt in a long time, with Lewis, at last - he’s glad he feels the same way."

A Stormy Season by AlettaMelody | 4k, mature, completed

Lewis tries to decide if he forgives Max for leaving him over their rivalry. Max chose to put racing and the chance of winning the championship first; Lewis is having a rotten 2022 season and could do with some love back into his life again. Things get slightly out of hand.

paralyzed by Anonymous | 3k, mature, finished

Max should have been freaking out. He should have been calling attention to the fact that Lewis Hamilton just used electricity and fucking shocked him. He struggled to get his thoughts together though because all he could think about was how damn good it felt.

all my pets are mystic by Anonymous | 4k, explicit, finished

Maybe the joke was too much. It’s kind of condescending, to refer to Max like a dog.

some day we might by c_e_1 | 9k, explicit, finished

“He has a girlfriend, Max.” Lewis snaps and stands up from the chair to face Max head-on. “Daniel has a girlfriend, and you still fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Max takes a step back, but Lewis is right there with him, following him back until Max has his back against the wall. “You are lying.” He hisses, because – it cannot be. Daniel has never mentioned having anyone at home, he wouldn’t – he would have told Max so if he did. Let him know if his heart wasn’t his to give. “Do not be cruel to me, Lewis.” Lewis laughs, but it’s a wry, mean thing that does nothing to settle Max’s anger. “Of course, you would blame this on me. Take some fucking responsibility for once, Max.” “Fuck you, Lewis.” Max says and pushes past Lewis before he storms out of the room. Or, that’s the nature of crushes. Either they work out or they don’t. Seldom do they make you realise you’re in love with someone else. But then, Max has always been special.

Melt Like Ice Cubes by WebCookie9 | 28k, mature, finished

Huh. There standing was a familiar looking dark skinned man, seemingly looking down at his phone or something but Max wasn't sure as the person was completely turned away from him. The sun was burning down strongly on that muscular back, making the skin shine and those damn tattoos gracing it were looking much too familiar to Max. The cross framed by soft looking wings. It couldn't be, right? What were the odds really that Lewis was spending his summerbreak at the exact same location, at the exact same hotel at the exact same time like him? It couldn't be. Maybe it was just some kind of hardcore fan or something, wanting to immitate the Brit. Yeah, that must be it. Or Max was going completely crazy. He should drink something. And get out of this aggressive sun.

Words Can Only Do Harm by orphan_account | 3, explicit, finished

Lewis bumps into none other than Max Verstappen at a party in Monaco. Things escalate.

i fall apart, you fill up the empty spaces by orphan_account | M | 3K | finished

"please, lewis, i need it, i need you to make me forget", max begs, hands on lewis' shoulders, head now in the crook of his neck, and lewis thinks he can probably hear his heart going insane. they both know his resolve is slowly crumbling, and when max places a small kiss on the black ink on lewis' neck, breathing out a soft, even insecure please, sir, lewis knows he's lost. or, alternatively: daniel cheats on max, max goes to lewis, lewis fucks the sadness out of him.

Negotiate by sainzjrs | E | 2K | finished

It’s blinding, bleeding and bending Max into someone else.

[forzafe44ari]

i'm at 11k and i still have 6 extremely plot-heavy parts of this fic to write. i think one is just a small transitional scene convo, but the ending is...a lot. in a good way, though.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

the same sweet shock | alpha!rhett x omega!oc

Summary: Somehow, Rhett and Tessa always knew he was meant to be her Alpha. That she was meant to be his Omega. And after nearly ten years of waiting, they are finally one. (wc: 3127)

Warnings: omegaverse stuff/lore (of which i am not well verse do not hang me), language, SMUT 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI (pretty much just straight filth, heat stuff, rut stuff, fingering, pinv, use a condom kids unlike these dweebs, gland biting, and of course knotting), rhett being the best alpha

✎……👍👍 enjoy

✎……MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS INSTALLMENT

Rhett’s place was actually a loft in one of the barns up close by the Abbott family ranch house. They still stored hay up there, but there was a bed and a mini-fridge and one of those small Coleman camping gas ranges set up on a table if he wanted to cook up something. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something for when he got locked out of the house or just wanted some space to breathe. And right now, he needed a lot of space to breathe as he laid a whimpering, panting, writhing Tessa Abernathy onto his bed.

When he put her in his passenger seat at the bonfire, she was still wearing jeans and a few layers. The entire five minute drive she had squirmed and whined softly, sweating into his cloth seats. Rhett had told her, as she threw her head back and rubbed her thighs together, that she could take something off if she needed to.

He just didn’t expect her to peel off everything but her t-shirt. 

The only thing Rhett knew about heats was from sex-ed class in high school. Nearly a decade ago and too vague now that he was dealing with it. Now that he had had an Omega in his front seat touching herself just to make the ache stop and panting his name. 

But something like instinct was taking over his brain as he made quick work of his clothes, shucking them off and leaving them scattered on the floor. She was touching herself again. Two fingers shoved deep in her center, her free hand underneath her thin shirt — tweeking her sore breast. She whimpered his name again and it felt like a burn.

“M’comin’, Tess, m’comin’.”

Something like a second mind was telling him what she needed from him now as the Alpha who had marked her. A distinct smell of her covered in him that drove him mad. He needed to touch her. Fill her. Breed her. His cock twitched at the thought, that something clouding his brain as he growled low in his throat. As he watched her juices leak out around her fingers, his hand roughly palming himself through his boxers. He meant it when he said he wanted to take things slow with her. Even if those thoughts in the back of his head had been telling him for months that she was his. He wanted it to be her choice, he wanted this to feel right and good and natural between them.

But even rushed and unexpected — it still felt good and right. As he propped his knee up on the foot of the bed, continuing to watch her in nearly a daze.

Her eyes, half-lidded and hazy, caught him standing at the edge of the bed and she reached for him. Fingers outstretched as she whined softly.

“Alpha,” Tessa breathed, a few more tears running down her reddened cheeks. “Please. Hurts.”

At her word, the cloud abated, and he climbed fully onto the bed with her. 

He could smell something — could nearly see the scent hanging in the air. A trail along the hallway lined with lockers. Honeysuckle and the air of early morning. Crisp and sweet. 

On some instinct he didn’t understand, Rhett followed it. Let it lead him all the way to the nurses station up by the main office. Standing outside the door, a thought from somewhere else slammed into the forefront of his mind. Fill. He didn’t want to admit to himself that some part of him knew. Knew where this trail would lead. Knew what or who needed to be filled…Filled by him. He could already feel himself swelling in his jeans as he wrapped his hand around the door handle. 

Tessa Abernathy was sitting on the nurse’s exam table. Red faced, sweating, face pinched up in a grimace with fingernails digging into her thighs. She was on the rodeo team with him. Barrel raced and got pretty blue ribbons for her efforts. Friends with Laney — Walker’s girl. Quiet and kind and radiating with that smell of honeysuckle and early morning air. 

She was hurting. And somehow he knew he could make it better.

He stepped further into the room as he mumbled, “M’sorry, I don’...”

Tessa gripped her stomach — a whimper falling out of her as those tears finally fell. The sound went through him like a knife. Sharp and painful. He wanted to make it better. He could make it better. He could ease her pain and fill her and make everything good for her.

Omega. Fill.

The words screamed in his mind as he lifted his hand towards the strap to his backpack. Ready to drop it on the floor and cross the room to her right then and there. But then the nurse walked back into the room. Yelled at him to leave. 

And he did. 

He regretted that moment for the past ten years. Leaving her in pain. Leaving her empty. A memory he didn’t like to think back on. But then she stumbled back into his life. Beautiful and warm as the sun. Offering up a kindness he didn’t think he deserved but she gave so freely. But then she went into heat at that party and he couldn’t let anyone else have her. She was his. His. His. His Omega. His to fill. 

Rhett groaned as he knelt over her, cupping her face in his hands to kiss her properly this time. Their first kiss. Not what he wanted their first kiss to be either. But it was so much more than he felt it would normally be. More intense, more wonderful, more desperate. Tessa whined, high pitched and desperate into his mouth, both hands reaching and pawing at him with whatever strength she had left. One hand trailed down her jaw, felt the residual sweat and tears, before it slipped down her neck. 

Her mating gland was swollen — moreso than he had ever felt before. His fingers massaged gently as he licked into her mouth. But it made her moan, wanton and open, as her hips bucked up to meet him. 

Rhett smiled, small and adoring, as he shushed her; fingers pushing her hair back from her face. “Easy. Easy. I know’mega, s’alright. ‘M’gonna take care’a ya now.” 

When he was a kid, he used to find the honeysuckle bushes with Perry. Find the flowers in that early summer air, pluck one from the rest and suck the nectar from them. It felt like that to kiss her sweat slicked skin. Honeysuckle nectar sweet as he mouthed and licked and sucked down the side of her neck. As he peppered that swollen gland with light pecks of his lips.

Tessa thrashed and whined softly beneath him as he trailed one hand down her stomach, past that t-shirt he pulled effortlessly over her head, to find her swollen and dripping. An awe and a growl filled him at the way she gripped the two fingers he sunk into her, at the way she pulsated and moaned. When his fingers were fully seated inside her, he looked up to see more tears streaming down her face, her hands weakly pushing and pulling at him. He didn’t know if it was for him to stop or for him to keep going. 

He knew what she needed from him now. What she needed and craved on some base instinct. But still, he didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted this to be good for her in every way. 

“Rhett,” she cried as he pushed those two fingers in and out, making her whole body shudder.

“I know wha’ya need, sunshine, I jus’...Jus’ soak my fingers like a good’mega n’ll give it t’ya.” She keened high in her throat and it made him grin. “Tha’s it. Takin’ my fingers s’well.”

His fingers stuffing her full seemed to have abated her for the moment, but after just a few pumps she seemed to know it wasn’t what what she really craved. Not what she really needed. Her hips are squirming and jerking, her head thrown back as she took what he gave. But it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t enough. 

“Please, Rhett, please — oh — need t’please…Alpha, please, please, can I — want it so bad. Need — Need t’be full,” she panted, eyes barely peeled open as she clawed at his back.

And he knew it too.

Biting into her jaw gently, he whispered, husky and deep, “Wan’ya t’cum f’r me first.”

It was like she was waiting for permission. Going stiff beneath him, she gasped, fingernails digging into his flesh as her walls convulsed around his fingers. Refusing to let go. She whined as he pulled them free, his hand soaked to the knuckle. But still she squirmed, her hips searching for something. Anything. Him. His cock, his knot, ready and aching to fill her.

Tessa opened her eyes, a few more tears leaking down her face, some clarity in her countenance for the first time since he marked her. He kissed her then. Gentle and consuming.

“Thank you,” she whispered, trying to tug him closer even though they were chest to chest, skin to skin.

Rhett shook his head, cupped her cheek. “Don’.”

“Why?”

“You didn’...Didn’get t’choose.”

She smiled, soft and sunshine bright. “Yeah I did. I chose you, my Alpha. Back when I’s seventeen…So good t’me.”

That made Rhett growl, low and showing some teeth. That second brain fuzzing all his thought as he flipped her onto her stomach. Practically ripping his boxers off as he urged one of her legs to bend, spreading her open for him. His cock was red, nearly purple at the tip, as it leaked and slapped against his stomach. He had never knotted someone before either, a biological process that only occured when an Alpha bred an Omega.

But he could already feel it beginning to form, causing a near pain as he lined himself up with her leaking entrance.

“Such a good Omega, sunshine, fuck — so good. My Omega. Mine.”

He was rambling now as he pushed in nice and slow. Some noise like a moan was falling consistently from her mouth, high pitched and breathy as she took him easily to the hilt. Every one of his nerves felt like it was on fire as he waited for her to adjust, or at least tried to. Even the feeling of him filling her was enough to make her flutter around him. He struggled to breathe even as he lost all composure and began to thrust deep and heavy into her awaiting cunt.

Each thrust forward forced a noise out of her, forced her higher up the bed. Her hands scrambled to reach for something, reach for him, and she didn’t stop until he grabbed hold of the back of her hand and laced their fingers together. Holding her down and grounding her. Grounding him.

“Fuck, you feel s’good,” he grumbled in her ear as he pressed himself into her back, blanketing her in him.

Changing the angle of his hips, he knew he hit that spongey spot inside her when she choked for breath. Rhett watched her mouth drop open further, her eyelids flutter, her breathing pick up as he gave short but powerful thrusts into that spot directly. Her fingers held a death grip on his own. 

“Good, ‘mega,” he grumbled, shifting closer. “That’s a good fuckin’mega.”

Tessa made some choked noise, shoulders hunching in on herself as he just kept going. Kept pushing right into that spot. He felt her clench around him, keeping him as deep as he could go — it made him shudder and twitch inside her. But he didn’t want this to end just yet. Didn’t want it to stop feeling this good. So he curled his free arm around her and pressed his fingers into her little bundle of nerves. 

“A-Ah!” she cried softly, legs trying to claw into the mattress and gain some traction. 

“God, y’re makin’ such pretty lil’noises, ‘mega. Think y’can make s’more f’r me?”

“S-Someone c-could hear,” she stuttered out, glancing towards the hay door that hung cracked open.

Being stuffed full of him and at least partially satiated, some of Tessa had come back into her it seemed. This was having the opposite effect on Rhett. The further they went the more lost he became. Lost in her scent, lost in her pussy, lost in filling her like his biology screamed to do. But she was also his Omega — and he longed to please her.

“What? Y’scared someone’s gonna hear ya take m’knot?” he questioned.

The thought made her flutter around him, but she still nodded. “C’Come check it out.”

She had a fair point, but if someone from the house hadn’t come to investigate her moaning at that point, Rhett was unsure if anyone ever would. But he could see the worry in her eyes, keeping her from letting go completely and caving into the pleasure he so desperately wanted to give her. So, he let go of her hand and brought two fingers up to her lips. He bumped the rough pads against the swollen flesh and she parted for him with heavy lidded eyes.

“That’s it — that’s my ‘mega,” he said with a grin as he pushed his fingers into her mouth and pressed down on her tongue, she practically went limp beneath him. “My fingers’ll keep ya nice’n quiet.” 

But that didn’t stop him from trying to draw every little noice he could from her. He wanted people to hear. Wanted everyone to know that he fucked his Omega that good. That it was him filling her and not anyone else. So he gathered the last of his composure and slowed everything down. Took his dear sweet time as he pressed against that spot inside her and held it there, as he circled her swollen clit with firm, lethargic circles. And he watched, revelled, in the way her jaw went slack around his fingers. At the heavy look in her blue eyes. At the way her chest heaved and her body went practically limp caged beneath him.

With every press and pull of him, with every breath she took, she made some noise around his fingers. He felt the vibrations of it al teh way down his arm, and it made a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. And he kept up that same slow, beautifully agonizing pace as she was brought closer and closer to release.

And he was brought closer and closer to insanity.

Her walls spasmed around his fingers as he massaged her in perfect time with his thumb against her clit. A sob echoed around his other hand as tears slipped down her cheeks.

“F-Feels good, ‘mega?” he stuttered, vision blurred and mind hazy but still grasping the last of his control.

Tessa nodded with another sob.

Until this point, she had been boneless on the mattress. But now her hands scrambled to curl around any part of him she could reach, liek seh was scared he would leave now that she was so close. Her breathing was heavy, hard, fast as she moaned and sobbed and drooled around his fingers. Tears running down her cheeks as she stared bleary eyed at the wall. He could feel her thighs quaking beneath him, her walls spasming and trying to pull him deeper.

“I-I got ya, ‘mega, I got ya,” he whispered as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her swollen mating gland. “Let go.”

Let go she did. Rhett watched, the last of his sanity dwindling, as her eyes rolled back. Her walls gripped him so tight he didn’t think he could move even if he tried to. Something high-pitched and loud got caught around his fingers still pressing down on her tongue. He could feel her juices coating his thighs.

After that, Rhett wasn’t entirely sure what happened.

All he remembered was flashes of Tessa screaming in pleasure, skin slapping against skin, his own roaring yell…

His teeth coming down hard on her mating gland.

He came to as he felt his knot swelling at the base of his cock. As Tessa whimpered trying to take it. 

She threw her head back, brandishing the red bite mark and already purpling bruise on her neck, and whined: “Rhett…Can’t…”

He smoothed his hand up her sweat slicked side. Feeling like he just woke up from some nap he only meant to be thirty minutes but instead it was four hours. Not knowing what time or even year it was. 

All he really understood was that Tessa Abernathy was wholly and completely his. And that was good.

“Yeah, y’can, sunshine,” Rhett finally spoke, whispering into her neck and peppering that bruise with kisses. “Y’were made f’me, ‘member? Made f’y’re Alpha. Ju’ lemme help ya.”

As his knot pressed in bit by bit, he moved his hand, which had somehow slipped out from beneath her, back between her legs. She whimpered at the touch to her swollen bundle of nerves, sensitive and abused, but it seemed to help. Her whimpers of pain turned to soft moans of pleasure. And when it finally settled inside her with a quiet pop — he felt her spasm around him once more. Forehead pressing into the mattress as she keened.

His hand slipped up and there was a bulge in her lower stomach. It made him shudder to think that was him.

A silence settled over them after that. Caught in the afterglow — at the moment too perfect to be broken. Rhett felt an overwhelming need to make sure she was comfortable. An itch he was desperate to scratch. Still locked inside her, he rolled them both onto their sides and grabbed the quilt from the end of the bed to cover their naked forms. Tessa nuzzles back into him easily, and she fit against his chest like she was made to be there.

And maybe she was.

“M’sorry,” he whispered, unable to hold his tongue forever.

“Huh?” Tessa replied, voice laced with sleep, like she just on the edge.

“I —” he lightly touched the bright red bite mark. “I didn’mean to…”

She sighed, something content and knowing. He could practically feel her smile. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

She fell asleep shortly after that. Rhett out of words and feeling exhausted himself. There would be more to discuss when they both woke up in the morning, that was sure. And there would be questions that needed answered from his family, who he was certain heard some of what went on tonight.

But right then, it didn’t matter. Right then he wrapped his Omega up in his arms and fell into the blissful arms of sleep.

i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates

[nothingelsematterswrites]

fic: rest your weary head and let your heart decide (chapter fifteen)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: George Russell/Lewis Hamilton

Summary:

In which Lewis and George enjoy their honeymoon.

rest your weary head and let your heart decide (chapter fifteen) @ AO3

[lsunstreakerl]

not you just so casually dropping all those angst ficlets...

hidden omega max who is isolated from the grid pack and so he gravitates to the rb garage ohhh my god 😭 and the bit where you reveal that nico knew and was one of the only drivers who interacts alot with max (and Daniel finding out?? will we get a ficlet of that 👀 (also you sneaking in Daniel angst 😭))

GP parental figure 😭😭 if there's one person in your fics who's always got max, it's GP 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ the confrontation between seb/lewis/max...👀

also thank you to 🎮 anon for inspiring sunny to write that ficlet 😁

nico saw max and was like "is it blatantly obvious to anyone else that the annoying blonde twat is an omega or do I need to mentor him myself" and didn't wait for an answer.

RB garage loves max. they're not supposed to be a pack, and they know that, but they're making it work anyways. it just means they have to have frequent additional meetings to discuss pack things. and also that HR got a major pay raise. they knew as soon as max made a shitty nest in the private airport terminal that they were going to have to be pack.

is it really a sunny maxiel RB era fic/ficlet if I don't have daniel angst?

gp is the mvp, genuinely 😭

[suzukiblu]

i am literally for real obsessed with your timberkon pink kryptonite fic so i definitely would love to see another sneak peek, but i'm also loving all the superfam stuff you're putting out!!! something that i wish you would write because i love your works (and have since the darcy lewis stucky days) and i think you would do amazing things with the pairing is jaytim, but i know thats not everyones cup of tea

(i realize now that you were probably aiming for an ask rather than a reply so here it is in your inbox too hskdhsh)

Thank you! ❤️ And oh, asks and replies were both fine for this, no worries. I try to just specify in-post whenever I have a preference but it's not gonna bother me either way.

I DO like JayTim to read, but I've never really felt a particular bug to write it myself? At least not yet, anyway, that may one day change. Though I miiiiight still put Kon in the middle because I am who I am and all, haha.

I'm planning to update the pink K fic on AO3 tomorrow, though I'm pretty sure I've already posted enough of chapter two in excerpts on Tumblr to have posted basically all of it by now and I'm trying to avoid doing that with chapter three, sooooo instead please accept the beginning of this very niche Superfam omegaverse pack dynamics AU instead. I've been looking for an excuse to post this whole big long thing anyway, lol.

Read-more for length, 'cuz there's kind of a lot here, haha.

.

The representative from the wet nurse agency shows up fifteen minutes early with an unusual-seeming omega who can't be a day over nineteen, being generous. Bruce makes a note to look into the agency's hiring practices a little more closely. The current situation is something of an emergency, unfortunately, and he's only had time to run the intermediate-level background checks so far.

Maybe this isn't the prospective wet nurse, he halfheartedly hopes, and they're just another representative; one who's in training or just here as backup. The kid smells like milk, though, and also why the hell would the agency send out an omega representative? Omegas are typically secretaries and clerks and almost all do in-office jobs, where they're "protected" from the outside world.

The practice is stupid and demeaning and borderline abhorrent, but it's a step up from the days when an omega couldn't get any job that wasn't as a nanny or a sex worker or some fucked-up combination of the two. Clark being an actual reporter is something that was practically unheard of two lousy generations back, and even now Clark is still an unusual exception in his field. Typically, an omega writing for a newspaper would be doing gossip or advice or something domestic, not investigative journalism.

So no, there's no way that this particular omega is anything but a wet nurse candidate, unusual-seeming and concerningly young or not. And Bruce had insisted on the candidate coming to meet them in person, even when the agency had very unsubtly implied that it would be better to just have the milk delivered.

Bruce is absolutely looking into this agency's hiring practices. An omega this age should barely be presented. One who's already allegedly producing enough milk to be a viable wet nurse for what they're requesting . . .

It's concerning, yes.

"Master Bruce, the representative from the Waterton Agency and her associate," Alfred introduces politely, gesturing between Bruce and their guests. He doesn't look or smell disapproving, even in the mildest notes, but Bruce knows he is.

Of course he is, with an omega who might be being either abused or taken advantage of or outright trafficked in the manor.

Bruce should've run a better background check.

"Hello, Alpha Wayne. My name is Ellen Travers," the agency representative greets tightly as Bruce steps into the parlor. She's a harried-looking blonde beta with graying hair who looks very unhappy to be here and is doing a very bad job of hiding the nervous dissatisfaction in her scent.

She doesn't introduce the omega.

Bruce puts on his stupid "Brucie" grin and strides right up to Travers, sticking a hand out to shake. She puts on a weak attempt at a polite smile in return and takes it.

"Hello there, Beta Travers, thanks so much for coming out here on such short notice!" Bruce greets her with a lie of cheerfulness, but Travers continues to smell nervous and upset and her smile is no less forced. And the omega . . .

The kid smells downright sullen, which is not a typical scent to catch off an unfamiliar presented omega and doesn't do anything to make him seem any older.

And yes, he's definitely unusual. He's much taller than Travers–about Bruce's own height, in fact–and has a very broad build and a surprising amount of muscle on him on top of that. Bruce knows full-grown alphas who'd kill to be built like this kid. He's also much more "handsome" than "beautiful", and frankly couldn't look less like the kind of sweet and pretty little things the agency had advertised on their website if he tried, much less the soft and maternal type Bruce had been expecting to actually have show up, given the specific requests he'd made.

Well, it does make sense. Bruce obviously wasn't going to provide the agency with either a Kryptonian genetic profile or a Kryptonian pup's exact dietary needs in search of a suitable wet nurse, but the nutrient requests that they'd made would likely necessitate an omega of a similar build to Clark's to supply–hell, the kid even resembles him a bit, funnily enough. They've already had four agencies tell them that they simply didn't have an appropriate candidate on staff, and the milk samples they'd been able to provide hadn't proven very helpful.

Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, but Martha had at least had the advantage of having a pack bond with him. A packmate's milk always does miles better by a pup than a stranger's or any kind of formula ever could.

Though she'd had some very odd cravings while nursing him, she'd told them. And Clark had still grown up underfed, even with formula and yellow sunlight to supplement–the Fortress had observed marked evidence of childhood malnutrition in him, he'd said.

Occasionally Bruce wonders what a properly-nursed Kryptonian raised under a yellow sun from infancy would've actually turned out like.

The thought is . . . well. A thought.

A thought that still makes him leery of how Jon Kent might grow up, sometimes.

Those concerns aside, though, the really unusual thing about this omega isn't either his physique or his face. Bruce is perfectly used to omegas with "nontraditional" looks after knowing Clark and Diana this long, to say nothing of various other Justice League members or other superheroes and villains he's known, or of both raising and reuniting with Jason. But this omega isn't as demurely dressed as mild-mannered Clark Kent would be; he's wearing opaque sunglasses and an alpha-cut studded leather jacket and alpha-style jeans and an inconveniently inaccessible plain black T-shirt with no sign of a nursing bra underneath it, nothing soft or appealing in either his clothes or his posture. If anything, he looks aggressive; tense and guarded and ready to start some shit. Even Jason usually puts up a temporary illusion of traditional omega mannerisms when he's meeting strangers as a civilian, if only so he'll be underestimated. This kid isn't even pretending to make the attempt.

And the kid smells completely and undeniably stray, too. Bruce can't catch a single note of packscent coming off him. Not even the scent of whatever pup got him milked up enough to qualify for this job. Unbred omegas sometimes lactate in heat or when under stress or if someone in their pack either has or adopts a pup, but a stray who doesn't smell particularly distressed or anything like he's on his cycle shouldn't be producing any milk at all.

At least not without using the kind of stimulants that Bruce explicitly forbade when filling out the agency application, anyway. Those medications are necessary for some omegas, obviously, but in this situation . . .

Kryptonian pups don't respond well to getting anything like that in their milk, they've already very thoroughly learned.

The omega also has spiked stainless steel piercings in his ears, snake bites under his mouth, and two curved barbells in his left eyebrow. All his other jewelry is heavy alpha-styled rings and bracelets, and his nails are painted a chipped black. And he is, notably, not wearing any kind of collar or necklace, and his neck is completely unmarked.

Bruce is in no way oblivious to the obvious message that an uncollared and unbitten omega's neck presents when left so obviously bared. Especially on a stray one who's dressed like an alpha and standing like he's expecting a fight.

He cannot imagine why this kid is working as a wet nurse.

None of the theories that come to mind bode particularly well, though.

"This omega is our most fitting candidate for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, her smile turning increasingly forced. Bruce thinks he can safely translate that expression as that of a beta who did not in any way agree with that assessment but was stuck following orders. "She fulfills all of your nutritional requests, including the necessary iron content and the prioritized fats and proteins, and, of course, is not taking any manner of lactation-inducing stimulants or supplements."

"He," the omega corrects, sounding dubious. Travers's mouth tightens. Bruce knows a lot of old-school traditionalists who won't call a male omega "he" or a female alpha "she", no matter what said omega or alpha's preferences happen to be, and makes another note about looking into this agency more thoroughly.

Much more thoroughly.

"She isn't available for direct nursing, unfortunately, but her milk is a perfect match to your requests and she produces both excellently and reliably; her supply will be more than enough for your needs," Travers continues as if the omega hadn't spoken, and the omega's lip curls in obvious annoyance as he rolls his eyes with no attempt to hide his exasperation even in the presence of an unfamiliar alpha.

Bruce thinks of Jason with a brief pang, and pushes the thought aside. It's not the time.

Maybe he could've asked Jason for help with this, if he'd been a better father. A better alpha. A better . . .

But he wasn't, so now there's an annoyed stranger standing in his parlor instead of a content packmate curled up in their nest.

"Really?" he asks, tilting his head and blinking down at Travers with a deliberately surprised expression. "The consultant made it sound like you'd need multiple donors, for the amount we're asking."

If one goddamn barely-presented kid is actually producing enough milk to even half-feed a Kryptonian pup . . .

"This omega produces sufficient quantities for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers replies with another forced smile. She must know how ridiculous a statement that is, when she's talking about a stray kid and not a fully mature omega with at least a couple of litters under their belt who's well-established in a stable pack, but she says it with conviction all the same.

"Oh, good!" Bruce says brightly, because he's supposed to be a stupid knotheaded playboy who wouldn't know a damn thing about nursing either way. "That'll be convenient, then."

Frankly, he only wishes one omega could produce what they need right now, but requesting that much milk from one agency for just one pup would be immediately flagged as suspicious, and definitely turned down outright. They're still looking for other candidates under false names, but at the rate they're going, they're going to need to keep supplementing with formula, which already hasn't been going well.

If Clark could get milked up himself, this wouldn't be a problem, of course. A Kryptonian omega could easily produce more than enough for one Kryptonian pup, especially under a yellow sun. Clark nursed Jon without a problem for years and was actually overproducing when he was, Bruce knows very well.

Unfortunately, that's not an option anymore. Not since . . .

Clark would never forgive himself if something like that happened again.

Never.

And Kara and Karen are both alphas, and Jon's a beta and only ten anyway, and the only other living Kryptonians they know of are either remorseless criminals imprisoned in the Phantom Zone or the sickly little pup who's slowly wasting away upstairs.

Formula and concentrated yellow sunlight haven't been enough. Clark can't get milked up anymore. They haven't been able to synthesize any appropriate supplements either in the Fortress or in working with the Justice League or STAR Labs or even in collaborating between them.

And the pup is just getting weaker, and quieter, and sicker.

A human wet nurse probably won't even help that much, at this point, but . . .

Well, it's the best chance they have to keep the pup alive until they can synthesize something. Maybe the only chance, now.

"We strive to provide to our clients' convenience, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, and the omega rolls his eyes again. Bruce is less and less convinced of him being an adult in any way but the presentation of his pheromones.

It's rude to address an unfamiliar unpacked omega directly, especially as an alpha. Technically Travers is chaperoning them in a professional situation, though, and Bruce has increasing suspicions about this omega's personal standards so far as "manners" go anyway.

And everyone knows Brucie Wayne is stupid and shameless, of course.

So he flashes the kid a grin, and he says, "Well, it's great to meet you, we appreciate you making the trip! What's your name, Mr. . . .?"

The kid blinks at him, clearly surprised both to be spoken to and to be called "Mr." instead of "Miss" or "Ms." or even "Omega". Travers looks absolutely scandalized.

Bruce really doesn't approve of the kind of traditionalists who won't introduce an omega or use their stated pronouns, though, so fuck if he cares.

"Her name is Carly, Alpha Wayne!" Travers interjects quickly, her tone a little bit too bright to be genuine. "Short for Caroline."

"Just Carl," the kid corrects, shaking his head. Travers's mouth tightens again. It's not a very typical omega name, so no surprise.

It occurs to Bruce to wonder if Carl might be a trans alpha, which he probably should've thought to wonder as soon as he saw how he was dressed and got an impression of his personality. Obviously the kid's at least not currently on HRT if he's working as a wet nurse, but that doesn't rule out the possibility of him being transgender all the same.

Actually, affording gender-affirming care is definitely a reason that a kid like this one would be working this job, especially if said kid's family weren't supporting them. Wet nurses make more money than most other fields that omegas without a diploma can expect to get into, at least short of sex work, and Carl is very obviously too young to have graduated college yet.

Actually, Bruce still isn't even sure if he's old enough to have graduated high school yet.

He's going to burn down this whole damn agency if they're knowingly employing a minor as a wet nurse.

"Nice to meet you, Carl," he says easily. Carl's eyes narrow consideringly, and then he folds his arms and smirks, crooked and casual.

"Sure," he says. "Nice to meet you too, Wayne."

Travers looks agonized. The last non-alpha stranger who called Bruce "Wayne" instead of "Alpha Wayne" was a beta terrorist who was in the middle of kidnapping him, and he's not sure any omega who wasn't an active supervillain ever has, so he's not surprised by her reaction.

Carl is still watching him with the same cocky smirk, though, an obvious challenge in the expression and his posture both. Bruce puts another point towards the possibility of him being a trans alpha, though he's not stupid enough to actually ask if he is, especially not in front of someone the kid works under. Presentation aside, Carl might not be out, and Travers is currently at least professionally following traditional manners, so Bruce doesn't have much hope for this agency being all that progressive and doesn't want to accidentally get the kid fired.

Though if Carl is a minor, Bruce is going to have to see if he can't slip him a business card and find him another job. Especially if he's going to be burning down the agency he's working for.

"Why aren't you available for direct nursing, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks in a curious tone, because he still can't smell a pup on the kid and most wet nurses who aren't nursing their own pups do direct nursing, and he wants intel about the agency's typical practices. Carl shrugs.

"Stubborn tits," he replies, pushing his chest out as he gestures at himself with no apparent sense of shame or self-consciousness, and Travers looks increasingly agonized. Bruce is just increasingly missing Jason, himself. "Milk flows too slow and the pups always get all fussy and stress out about it. Which, whatever, pups are weird anyway, they're not really my thing."

"'Weird'?" Bruce repeats, carefully noting the lack of possessives in reference to any potentially dysphoria-triggering anatomy. Still not a confirmation, but another point. Carl shrugs again.

"I'm afraid Carly doesn't bond appropriately with pups, Alpha Wayne," Travers interjects quickly, and Carl scowls at her. "She has an unfortunate detachment disorder."

"I 'attach' fine," Carl grumbles sourly, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. "I just don't like kids."

Travers grimaces. Bruce keeps pretending to be an oblivious idiot. He has met omegas who don't like children. They exist.

They're just all deeply, deeply traumatized people. Or clinically insane.

Or both, frequently.

So . . . "detachment disorder" seems likely, yes.

Bruce doesn't consider either sex or gender to be the end-all be-all of a person, of course, but there are certain biological imperatives that no one can deny as existing, and a lactating omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–really, just about any omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–is not ever going to say they "just" don't like kids. Usually the problem with omega wet nurses is them liking kids too much, in fact, and getting distressed or depressed when the parents wean the pups and they won't be seeing them again. The decent agencies have psychological support for that in place and typically offer paid leave between long-term clients. The Waterton Agency does up to a month, which is one of the reasons Bruce chose it.

So yes, Carl is almost definitely traumatized.

Though really, a wet nurse who won't be around much isn't the worst thing, considering. Neither Clark nor Jon started developing any especially noticeable powers until they were older, but they can't assume anything based off a sample size of two, especially when said sample size is made up of biological relatives. And even if they didn't have to worry about that, well, the manor is frequently full of vigilantes and the cave is right underneath it. There's a lot that a regular guest could notice, especially over however long they might need to be nursing. Especially because nursing is a quiet, out-of-the-way activity that takes a while, and it would be very easy for someone to forget to keep their voice down or to not do a damn quadruple-backflip off a chandelier at the wrong moment.

And there's a reason Clark and Lois brought this problem to the shadows of Gotham, as opposed to staying in bright and sunny Metropolis with it. They've got something to hide right now, and a lot to figure out.

Plus if even a molecule of kryptonite gets involved in this situation, even secondhand . . .

Power Girl and Supergirl and Steel are the ones taking shifts watching Metropolis right now, and everyone is just going to leave it at that. Superman isn't coming out for anything less than the apocalypse.

"Well, the Lane-Kents will probably want you to meet the kiddo either way, if you don’t mind," Bruce tells Carl, offering an easy shrug. "Peace of mind, you know how it is."

"Not really," Carl says. Bruce debates slipping the kid a psychiatrist's business card, but he'd probably take it as an insult.

"Er, yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says awkwardly. "Actually, we were expecting Alpha Lane to be with you . . . ?"

"Lois is currently stuck in Metropolis traffic thanks to Metallo bashing up half of downtown this afternoon and Clark is upstairs getting the kiddo around. Little guy just woke up from his nap," Bruce replies with a pleasant smile, making another note of how Travers left off the omega member of the couple's last name, and also apparently doesn't expect to be meeting said omega at all. He is increasingly regretting choosing this agency, though he may yet manage to do some good in the world by subtly dismantling it. Or maybe just by buying it outright and doing a little restructuring.

Or a lot of restructuring.

"Wait, it's not your kid?" Carl asks, wrinkling his nose with a puzzled expression. Travers looks pained. The Waterton Agency isn't Gotham-based, so Bruce isn't sure why she apparently expects Carl to be up on the Wayne pack's current members, especially considering how she keeps talking over and outright ignoring him. Bruce has a hard time picturing her bothering to provide the information herself, at this point.

"Oh, no, just doing a favor for some visiting friends," he replies smoothly, still wearing the same pleasant smile. Which is a lie, of course, because actually the Lane-Kents are part of his secondary pack and "visiting friends" therefore in no way covers what they are to him. The Wayne pack is both his primary and his family pack, obviously, and the Justice League is a loosely-connected tertiary pack, but his secondary pack lacks both an official name and public recognition, because explaining to the public why Brucie Wayne's secondary pack is two award-winning reporters from Metropolis, a random museum curator in Gateway City, a decorated Navy SEAL, and occasionally a cat burglar with commitment issues is just not going to work out for anyone's secret identities.

And that even without counting how everyone knows about Lois Lane and Steve Trevor's respective very public connections to Superman and Wonder Woman, much less ever explaining anything about Selina. Bruce, meanwhile, still isn't sure how he ended up in a pack with any of these people. Clark and Diana definitely have a lot to answer for either way, though.

Mostly he blames Clark. Diana has more decorum. Clark is just . . . Clark, so now Bruce gets a scarf and cookies from Martha Kent every Christmas, never mind that he's technically Jewish, because God forbid he ever tells her that and she starts sending him Hanukkah presents instead. He cannot handle eight nights' worth of Martha Kent's colorfully-wrapped scarves and lovingly-packaged cookies. That's just not a thing he can do.

He doesn't even celebrate holidays, except when Dick cons him into it. Which admittedly he's been doing more often again the past few years, but–

This is off-topic, Bruce reminds himself, but then gets distracted as Carl cocks his head a little and frowns over something. Bruce instinctively wants to brace himself for trouble at the sight, because that frown actually very strongly reminds him of Clark's "what the hell weird and concerning thing did I just notice with my super-senses" frown, but A) Carl doesn't have super-senses and B) Bruce just heard the stairs creak, which means the actual Clark is finally on his way down to meet them. No one else in the manor would ever make the steps creak any way but deliberately except for Lois or Jon, and Jon is out on a walk with Damian and Titus while Lois is, again, currently stuck in Metropolis traffic. So: Clark, definitely.

Also Clark tends to make the stairs creak a lot louder than either Lois or Jon do, given the very notable size difference there.

"Has Alpha Lane authorized you to make decisions for his pup's care, Alpha Wayne?" Travers asks with another forced smile. Bruce is resolving to check specifically her background too, at this point.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, good ol' Clark's right here," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "It's his pup too, and he knows much more about ones this age than I do anyway."

"Yes, well, omegas tend to get a little . . . irrational about the idea of sharing their pups with a wet nurse," Travers says "politely", like she thinks she's stating a fact. Bruce would say something cheerful-sounding and subtly insulting back, typically, but Carl's frown is deepening and he looks a little bit . . . odd, maybe, or . . .

There's a strange little pup-call from the stairs, very quiet and echoing in unusual registers but still recognizably one all the same, and just as recognizably resigned-sounding. It's a pup-call that clearly expects to go unanswered, at this point, which is something that Bruce would like to never hear again in his life, given the option.

Though it's better than a pup who's given up on calling at all, he supposes.

He tries not to grimace at that thought, though he's sure Clark's grimacing enough for the both of them right now after hearing a call like that. The pup is starving, and they just can't feed him properly. At this point sending him back where he came from might be kinder.

Honestly, if Bruce didn't know exactly who his parents were, he might've already insisted on that.

It's just–

The pup calls again, even quieter. Travers looks perplexed.

"Er," she says. "I apologize, Alpha Wayne, but is the pup ill? We can't be around them if they are, it's against agency policy."

"Oh, the kiddo just sounds like that," Bruce replies dismissively, and then lies, "Vocal chord deformity, apparently. We're not sure what caused it, pediatrician thinks it's something genetic."

Well, it is genetic. Jon calls in exactly the same registers, and according to Martha and Jonathan so did Clark.

So it's genetic, yes. Just not a deformity.

Carl's expression looks–odd, still. Bruce isn't sure what to think of it, but it makes him a bit wary. A detachment disorder doesn't imply an actual negative reaction to the presence of a pup, obviously, but . . .

Clark steps into the parlor with Lor-Zod sitting on his hip, the pup no older than two or so and looking small and listless in his arms, his dark skin all washed out and his previously bright eyes gone dull and tired. When he first crash-landed in Metropolis in the rocket he'd been wrapped up inside, Clark said he'd popped out of it energetic and excited and clamoring for attention in toddler-level Kryptonian, but he's been slowly fading ever since, wasting away without the nutrients that they just can't provide him. He's probably only made it this long thanks to the sun.

Again, Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, though he was already at least three by the time they got him, which probably helped. A pup Lor's age is capable of eating solid food, obviously, but milk or formula is still a major part of a pup's diet until they're four or five, if not older, and the longer the better. Hell, most kids still at least semi-regularly nurse for as long as their dam can manage to stay milked up, or even until they present themselves. No one can wean a damn toddler and expect them to thrive.

Or even survive, in Lor's case.

Lor opens his mouth in another weak, resigned little pup-call, and Clark's own mouth tightens as he restrains himself from answering it and giving the pup false hope for milk he just doesn't have, and Bruce steels himself to–

Carl croons.

Travers startles. Bruce is . . . surprised, a bit. A detachment disorder doesn't really imply the kind of omega who'd croon at a pup they've never seen before in their life, after all.

It's an unusual and unpracticed croon, as if it's a sound Carl doesn't make very often, which Bruce supposes would make sense. Lor responds to it immediately, though, shifting weakly in Clark's arms and pup-calling again.

Carl, with absolutely no manners or decorum whatsoever, sweeps right past Travers and Bruce and Alfred and just plucks Lor straight out of Clark's arms. Which–forget the kid calling him "Wayne"; that's a damn etiquette breach. Hell, Clark probably only didn't take Carl's head off for snatching up his pup without permission because he's so clearly dumbfounded that he actually did it.

Bruce is slightly less dumbfounded due to having spent five seconds in the kid's presence, but still, what is he–

"Carly!" Travers chokes in horror. Carl very obviously doesn't even hear her and just starts purring at Lor and cuddling him close in a way that really doesn't even slightly imply "detachment disorder".

And then Bruce figures out what was "odd" about Carl's expression, before.

"Huh," he says, a little bemused. "Did he just go into feral drop?"

"Alpha Wayne, I assure you, this is not the Waterton Agency's standard of behavior!" Travers sputters, sounding even more horrified, and Clark just blinks and tilts his head.

"I think he did, yeah," he says, looking perplexed. Carl continues ignoring everyone in the room except for Lor and just purrs louder at him as they both nuzzle into each other. Lor makes more very distinctly Kryptonian pup-calls at him, and Carl croons back with no apparent concern over their strangeness, sounding absolutely goddamn enamored.

That is definitely not a detachment disorder, Bruce thinks. There is no possible way that an omega with a detachment disorder just went into full feral drop over a pup at first sight.

Or possibly first sound, he's realizing.

Bruce is perfectly aware that omegas can feral-bond with distressed pups whether they mean to or not, but he's never seen it happen this fast outside of a warzone or a natural disaster. He's heard hearsay and read studies about particularly compatible sets that have done it under less stressful circumstances, but distressed and starving pup or not, he wouldn't have even expected a human omega to be capable of bonding with a Kryptonian pup like that.

Or at all, frankly. Deliberately created and carefully cultivated pack bonds are one thing, but . . .

Lor chirps, the sound still a little quiet and fragile, a little weak, but also undeniably hopeful, and Carl gives him a low, rumbly purr in reply and yanks up his inconveniently-cut T-shirt to expose his chest with no trace of hesitation or modesty. He's already leaking sweetly-scented milk, already adjusting his grip on Lor to let the pup get at his chest as easily and comfortably as possible, and Lor latches without a moment's hesitation and immediately starts to nurse.

And then Lor purrs. Carl just watches him with undeniable adoration, still paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else in the room.

Alright, then, Bruce thinks carefully.

Well, that just happened.

"Thought you didn't like kids, Carl?" he inquires casually, putting on an easy grin, and Carl finally seems to come up enough to remember that the rest of them exist, though he still doesn't actually take his eyes off Lor.

"I would literally become a supervillain if this kid asked me to," he replies dreamily, keeping Lor cradled in one arm and tracing a finger down the pup's cheek with a soft, besotted expression that's unmistakable for what it is even with the sunglasses on. He looks like he might just burn down the world if someone tried to take Lor away from him right now, and his pheromones are so all-encompassing and so cloyingly sweet that Bruce genuinely might need to see a dentist after this.

"Well usually I'd say we keep Batman in the loop on that kind of thing around here, but if the kiddo asks, it only seems fair," he jokes with a laugh.

"I would drop-kick Batman off a roof for you," Carl informs Lor lovingly as he strokes his cheek again and then skims a fingertip along the little barely-visible scar splitting his eyebrow. Lor keeps purring sweetly and Alfred coughs to conceal a low chuckle. Clark looks a little pained to be watching one of his pups nurse from another omega so easily and eagerly, but his mouth quirks in amusement at the comment anyway. Bruce doesn't dignify any of them with a response, because he is an alpha with dignity and also is in no way threatened by a passing comment from a barely-presented kid who clearly isn't even combat-trained.

. . . although he also isn't going to be stupid enough to try coaxing Lor away from the omega he just feral-bonded with just yet either.

Then Tim walks by the doorway, takes one look at Carl with Lor, and trips over literally nothing and into a full faceplant on the foyer floor. Bruce pauses, then raises an eyebrow.

"Alright down there, Timmy?" he asks. Tim scrambles back to his feet, looking more genuinely mortified than he's ever seen him.

"Fine!" he blurts. "Fine. Everything's fine. All the things are fine. Uh. What? Who?"

"This is Carl," Bruce says, gesturing to the kid. "Wet nurse from the Waterton Agency. And his escort, Beta Travers. Carl, Beta Travers, this is my son, Tim Drake-Wayne. And also Clark Lane-Kent and his pup, Chris Lane-Kent, who I'm assuming you've figured out are your prospective clients."

"Yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says with a grimace. "We gathered."

"Ngh," Tim says, looking at literally everything but Carl and Lor. His face is bright red, which is an unusual amount of embarrassment for him to be showing just over tripping. Typically he masks that kind of thing a lot more effectively. Bruce would almost think he was actually embarrassed by watching Carl feed Lor, but Tim's literally never been affected by anything but passing curiosity when seeing a pup nurse before, so that seems unlikely. And he's a male beta, if still an unpresented one, so it's not like he's got any reason to care all that much about it anyway.

So his reaction does seem a little odd, yes.

Hm.

"Chris," Carl coos adoringly down at Lor. Bruce is in no way stupid enough to think that he absorbed any of the rest of that introduction or has even noticed Tim's presence at all. He wouldn't even put money on him having noticed Clark's presence, in fact, except as a pup-delivery system. The kid is very clearly in love with the pup in his arms and doesn't give a damn about any of the rest of them at all.

Detachment disorder. Sure.

[itsblasttothepast]

I find strange that in most Chestappen fics where Checo is pregnant (whether is a Omega!Verse or not) the authors portray the whole process, how Max gets the news and becomes all territorial and the growing belly and all, but with Chewis there's no such thing.

If they have kids (and it's a big IF), they just appear out of nowhere, like an afterthought to end the story, but nothing in how he get the news and the process, and I think it's such a wasted potential for a sweet Chewis fic.

So, talking to @myfuckinglifep-blog, this is a crack snippet for what I wish someone would write someday (also, it's omega!verse, so if this isn't your cup of tea, then I recommend stop reading and moving on to your dash) (and it has BFF Max and Lestappen, BTW):

Charles: Max! Stop! Why are you punching Lewis?? Max: He got Checo pregnant! Carlos, Fernando and Charles: WHAT?? Lewis: WHAT?? I got him... WHAT? Max: You didn't know??.. oh... damn, Checo is going to kill me! Yuki: Idiot! I told you to wait! You deserve to die. Charles: What possessed you to come here and punch Lewis without talking to Checo first? Max: Checo was crying! I don't know what to do when an Omega cries! With Charles, I usually have sex with him! Charles: MAX! Max: But Checo didn't want to have sex with me, because he's pregnant with this asshole! Carlos: Why are you offering sex to crying Omegas, Max? Max: I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WHEN AN OMEGA CRIES! Lewis: I got him... what? Yuki: You all deserve to die, I'm going to run over all of you with my car the next race. You're warned. Pierre: Even me? Yuki: Especially you!

Wouldn't this be an amazing fic? No? All right, please someone write Chewis with Checo pregnant 🥹

In another take, many fics with dark!Max, where he's all twisted and obsessed with Checo, but no Chewis... I do think Lewis can have a dark side too! It would be super interesting.

Anyway, /end rant.

Picture relevant for the plot 🫢

[lululawrence]

Sus' 40 to 40 Countdown: 39 Days

Day two is here and the fun continues! Today's theme for my birthday celebration fic rec is:

Fics with the Fewest Comment Threads on AO3

I Can Only Hold You - Jordan North/Louis (omegaverse, alpha Louis, omega Jordan, touch deprivation, wankfest fic, no wanking on screen 😉)

When Louis learns Jordan is close to falling into depri, he rushes over to help. What follows is so much more than either of them planned for.

Did You Know I Fit In A Dryer? - Jordan North/Louis (crack fic, banter, flirting, recreational use of drugs, pre-slash)

“Mate, can you help me open the door?”

Team Gaelic FTW - Harry/Louis, Niall/Lewis Capaldi (dialogue only, banter, game night, established relationships, crack-y vibes lol)

Just another Scrabble Game Night at the Stylinson House…

All 40 to 40 Countdown Posts

[nearmike]

Royalty A/B/O AU - 4463 fic

A guide

1- Characters

King Lewis Hamilton I

Status: First-born son of King Anthony Hamilton, King of Stevenage, first of his name, conqueror of the Kingdom of London and Protector of the English Channel

Relationships: Married and mated to Prince George of Kyng’s Lynn (1 child)

Designation: Alpha

Smell: Dark chocolate and citrus fruits

Prince George Russell

Status: Third son of King Steve Russell, Prince of Kyng’s Lynn by birth, Prince of Stevenage through marriage

Relationships: Married and mated to King Lewis I of Stevenage (1 child), loving friendship and platonic relationship with Lord Charles

Designation: Omega

Smell: Honey and lavender flowers

Lord Charles Leclerc

Status: Second son of Lord Leclerc of Monaco, attendant of Prince George

Relationships: Dating Royal Guard Max the Lion, loving friendship and platonic relationship with Prince George

Designation: Omega

Smell: Caramel

Max Verstappen, the Lion

Status: First-born son of Lord Verstappen of Holland, lost the title of Lord by disinheritance, Royal Guard of Prince George, first knight of the Crown of Stevenage

Relationships: Dating Lord Charles

Designation: Alpha

Smell: Mint

Peter Bonnington, Bono

Status: Doctor of the Crown of Stevenage

Relationships: unknown

Designation: Beta

Smell: //

Lord Daniel Ricciardo

Status: Lord of Perth

Relationships: Present unknown, past betrothal to Lord Lando

Designation: Alpha

Smell: unknown

Lord Alex Albon

Status: First knight of the Crown of Kyng’s Lynn, ex Royal Guard of Prince George

Relationships: Married and mated to Lady Lily, past crush on Prince George

Designation: Alpha

Smell: unknown

Lord Lando Norris

Status: Lord of Bristol by birth, Lord of Melbourne through marriage

Relationships: Married and mated to Lord Oscar (3 children), past out of marriage relationship with Lord Carlos (1 child), past betrothal to Lord Daniel

Designation: Omega

Smell: unknown

Lord Oscar Piastri

Status: Lord of Melbourne

Relationships: Married and mated to Lord Lando (3 children + 1 adopted child)

Designation: Alpha

Smell: unknown

2 - Fics

Part 1 - Morning Cuddles, T, 1017 words

Pairings: George/Charles, Lewis/George (mentioned), Max/Charles (mentioned)

Part 2 - Say my name, I want the neighbors to hear it, E, 1739 words

Pairings: Lewis/George, Max/Charles (mentioned)

Part 3 - Troverò due soli e un'altra città, E, 6301 words

Pairings: Lewis/George, George/Charles, Max/Charles (mentioned)

Part 4 - Sometimes I fuck you in my head, M, 3488 words

Pairings: Max/Charles, Lewis/George, George/Charles (mentioned), Oscar/Lando (mentioned)

Part 5 - Lying close to you, feeling your heart beating, T, 2762 words

Pairings: Lewis/George, George/Charles (mentioned)

Part 6 - You pull me in and touch my neck, and now I'm dying, E, 2989 words

Pairings: Lewis/George, George/Charles (mentioned), Max/Charles (mentioned)

Part 7 - Sweet creature, T, 1428 words

Pairings: Lewis/George

Part 8 - Golden as the sun, blue as the moon, T, 1865 words

Pairings: Lewis/George, Max/Charles

Part 9 - Tiger stripes, E, 4727 words

Pairings: Lewis/George, Max/Charles (mentioned)

Part 10 - I know I have good judgement, I know I have good taste, G, 1520 words

Pairings: Lewis/George, Max/Charles, Oscar/Lando (mentioned)

Part 11 - You have got your hooks in me, E, 3013 words

Pairings: Lewis/George