#writing alphas

[dmitriene]

cw: omegaverse, knotting, breeding.

alpha simon riley coming back to the base after being away on recent mission, it's been too long, enough so you, his omega, would grow unsettled and worried, needy in the absence of his warmth beside you, made to sleep alone, grappling at what remained from his addictive pheromones on the sheets and couple of clothes, and just as you started losing it slowly, the heli with his team finally came back.

you're the first to welcome him, shoving through other soldiers and the captain, lumbering towards his solid frame, gear grimy, stained here and there with dried blood, some dust, his usually masculine scent thicked with sweat, gunpowder, so easily detectable and comforting it's makes you purr, stumbling against his muscular chest, clinging to his vest with tight, clenching fists, and he accepts your weight easily, throat rumbling with familiarity, masked face nosing directly in yours.

simon knows how much you missed him by your actions alone, the way your body shakes with the force of your own rumbling purrs, how you nuzzle in the crook of his neck, trying to stick your nose under his balaclava, clawing and scratching with your trembling fingers, high on the adrenaline just because he's finally here, your alpha, your throat tightening on a small, feisty growl when he tries to put you back down, already in his quarters.

you don't let him go to take a shower so easily, not until he takes care of you like he should, because you waited so much, all of his clothes and sheets now soaked fully by your cloying scent, something animalistic in it, doubled with excitation, and simon turns his head to the little chirp you let out, a purr, a whimper, stretching out on his bed, presenting, ass up with a tentative wiggle, glancing back at him with needy, wide on plea gaze.

simon fullfill's your every need, knowing how you missed cumming on his fat, engorged knot, with how pliable and wet your hole are, split wide to accommodate the girth of him, veiny and throbbing, jamming rough and deep against your spongy spot, making you tighten, bring him close to the point of filling you full of his cum until your tummy would ache, cunt pulsing and clamping with short pulls around his growing knot, welcoming his release against your cervix, the wrecked growl from his throat.

you remain tucked under heavy, fluffy blanket while he takes a shower, body twitching in the aftermath, feeling how his cum dribbles in frothy, creamy globs out of your hole, trailing down your thighs, squished together, lidded eyes barely open by the time simon comes back, sliding in beside you, cradling you close, arcing a calloused thumb over the fresh, swollen teeth dents on your mating gland, before pressing you even closer, his chest purring in response.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[thedovesaredying]

Imagine Alpha!Simon, much like all unmated alphas in the military, receives a scent package to help during his rut. It's a simple blanket that has been thoroughly scented by an omega and while normally it doesn't really work for him, this newest blanket smells simply divine. He's salivating and panting the moment the sealed plastic bag is opened and the scent is released, but rather than calming his frazzled alpha, it only makes him desperate to track down the omega it belongs to.

It's almost laughably easy to find out which centre the blanket was distributed from, and from there he only needs to stake out the area for a few days until you to make an appearance. What should have been a simple, anonymous job to earn a bit of cash on the side is turned completely on its head the moment you try to leave.

Simon's here to claim what belongs to him, and he isn't the kind of alpha who likes to share with the rest of the world.

[zan0tix]

ALPHA KIDS: Draw your best friends!

DIRK: I'd say I'm better at one on one character interaction work of the more intimate variety, but I think this piece came together nicely. DIRK: Fun for the whole family style wholesomeness, any motherfucker in the radius of a screen displaying this image will instantly get hit with a sore case of heartburn and their tear ducts will clock in overtime at the weeping factory.

ROXY: im so proud of these i think these are my best designs yet :3 but omg dirk callie and jake were SOOO peculiar about their damn designs over my shoulder. jake wanted me to clarify that even in pink pen form his little guy is BLUE. so there. sigh this is the one occasion they could take notes from janey.. JUST LET LE ARTIST WORK!

JANE: Boy! I don't draw often but I always was fond of calligraphy growing up. I was kind of inspired by all of the other's works, but especially Calliope's swirls she puts in her art. It's very fun to add!

JAKE: Im not quite the best with posing, but i find the head very fun to study! Especially skulls.. so good ole calliope makes for the perfect muse! (hehe)

CALLIOPE: i realized i hadn't ever made a piece with Us in the same place at once. u_u CALLIOPE: bUt since it's reality now here's all of Us together, United at last! ^u^

==->

[bunnibombz]

Pt 3 because I can't stop thinking about him...

Links to pt 1 and pt 2

Alpha! Simon who wakes up later in the morning to the sound of thunder rumbling and the sweet taste of your slick against his lips. A deep groan buzzed through your body when he locked his arms around your waist to hold you down against his mouth, lips and tongue laving over your clit and clenching hole as you moaned and clutched at his hair

Alpha! Simon who can feel himself getting painfully hard again in the light of your arousal, the sound of rain against the window and the soft sounds of your pleasure dragging his eyes shut again as he smothered himself against you. Wanting to live in this moment with you forever.

Alpha! Simon who fucks you roughly on his fingers, trying to fight the burning instincts telling him to sink you down on his cock again. Wanting to respect John as your Alpha even though it made his jaw ache to think about leaving you after this.

"Easy Omega where's Price?" He asked as you moved down away from his mouth to rub your sticky cunt against his throbbing length.

"Makin' breakfast" you mumbled against the hot skin of his throat, where his scent was the strongest, the smell of your mixing pheromones had you grinding against him.

"Maybe I should go get him" Simon said, lifting you off easily and sliding to the edge of the bed. As he got up and was about to pull on his underwear he felt your hand grab at his hip. He turned before he thought and groaned probably too loudly when your lips made contact with his cock, standing at attention with a leaky tip as you kissed and sucked the skin of his shaft.

Alpha! Simon who can't help but thread his scarred fingers through your hair, fucking against your mouth as you swallowed around him with a moan that had his thighs shaking. He wanted to go get John and at least let him know that you were awake but goddamn if he was gonna try and pull you away when you were looking up at him so pretty, watery eyes and drool running past the tight seam of your lips as he bumped the back of your throat.

"N-Need to go get John" He stuttered, pulling hips back only for you to follow and suck him back against your tongue. "Lovie, come on-".

"No need" John's voice said from the doorway, cup of coffee in his hand when Simon looked over his shoulder. John stood from the doorway and walked around the bed, a soft smile on his lips when he saw you. John's heavy hand smacked down on your bare ass, drawing out a whine as his scent began riling up in the air.

"Ravenous isn't she, Simon?" He asked with a smirk, observing the multiple hickey's across the other Alpha's chest. "She'll drain you dry and keep asking for more". Simon could only grunt in agreement, not trusting his voice to reply as your tongue slithered across his sensitive head, fresh pre-cum running against your tastebuds.

Alpha! Simon who was paying no attention as John undid the tie on his sweatpants and got up behind you on the bed, didn't notice until you cried out with a warbling moan around his cock.

"My greedy little Dove" John cooed as he pressed a kiss against your spine, "Let's see how you handle two at once, maybe that'll tire you out".

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: News Crashing

Poly!TaskForce 141 x Omega!Reader

The Omega Pack Plan Masterlist

Summary: A change in procedure around base causes you to spiral as your world comes crashing down. There's only one way out of this and it starts with telling the truth.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Existentialism, Misogyny, Dismissive Attitudes, Angst, Rage

Mentions of: Medication,

A/N: Honestly, I'd been inspired by a few series (Standard Emergency Protocol and Pantry Solutions) I've read those and it caused me to want to write my own ABO COD AU, so I started this as a sort of funny fic awhile ago. I'm haven't entirely plotted out the whole story, but I have some ideas for the first few chapters. I was finally inspired to finish and post it because @cringeycookies liked the snippet I posted in a wip tag game. So thanks to everyone who inspired me, and a special thank you to @penelopepine for helping me with the dialogue and Price's reaction as I try to begin writing for them.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the nurse responds, "we're no longer authorized to refill suppressants of any kinds for any purpose." With a push of the empty orange pill bottle back across the counter in your direction, she offers you an ugly forced smile.

"Is there really nothing we can do?!" You complain incredulously, "Nothing at all? What am I supposed to do with this?!" Taking the emptied bottle into your hands, you stare at the nurse with widened eyes and a wild look.

"There is no 'we'..." she rolls her eyes in response, focus returning to the papers before her. "But if you insist, you can always bring it up with your CO, or the Base Commander." She scribbles something out on the page, but you can hardly focus when your world is virtually crumbling apart around you. "Now if you don't mind, some of us actually have work to do around here."

Still stunned, you can't help the way your breathing picks up as your heart begins to race. About a month ago now there was a base-wide meeting where they'd finally cracked down and implemented a new program the government is trying out: OPP. The Omega Pack Plan. While it's uncommon for Omegas to even be recruited into the military to begin with, such a thing does exist. Regardless, the Base Commander gathered everyone in the Auditorium for a presentation to talk about the new program and how the army would implement it into the troops. Luckily, considering you're on an elite Task Force, it doesn't apply to you. At least... it didn't.

"What the hell is this?!" You yell, tossing the orange bottle in his direction.

He'd heard the stomps all the way down the hall and smelled you coming, so he's neither surprised by your appearance, nor startled by the toss of the bottle. John swiftly catches it in his hand as he looks up at you. "What?" He inquires, finally glancing down to examine what he's caught. "A pill bottle?"

"Captain, it's empty! They won't refill it- I can-"

A groan tumbles past his lips as he drags a hand down his beard. "Look, Panther-" referring to you by your callsign, interesting move. "There's nothing I can do, it's over my head now. I wish I could do something, but I can't." Sitting back in his leather chair, Price places the bottle on the desk; a faint rap of the plastic hitting the wood is the only sound between you momentarily before you hurriedly shut the door.

Panic begins to flood your system as you're not sure how to handle this. It's your turn to freak out. You know how this goes, you know the story now; ever since they'd implemented and dispersed the Omegas into the troops, they'd started implementing them into the Task Forces, and now they have to do so with the One Four One. Fingers curling in and out of shapes as you try to process your next move, you speak before you can even begin to plan what you're going to tell him.

"I- I'm- I..." You're pacing his office now, the heavy gaze of your Captain upon you as you try to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. The thing is, you're usually good with pressure- really good. It's your job to be good. It's just... this is different. This is your life, your livelihood at stake, the livelihood of all your future generations to come.

A sigh resounds throughout the office before you hear the low timbre of his voice. "Dove," he calls out with a gentle tone, "I want you to take a deep breath for me. Alright?" With the calm and even sound of your Captain's voice and the assured look on his face, you comply. Exhaling the last of your breath, you close your eyes and focus in on the deep intake of air through your nose. With the parting of your lips you slowly release it before giving yourself a moment.

When you open your eyes he gestures to the seat before his desk, though you know he won't take offense if you decline. Hesitant, one hand finds its way to the other, wrapping around your arm as you listen to him speak. "Now, can you explain what has you in this state? I assure you that there's nothing that can't be dealt with." You want to trust him, you know him--John Price--your Captain. He's always had your back, always made sure you felt comfortable in the Taskforce, always made an effort to check on you after things got rough.

You nod. Licking your lips, you search his blue eyes as you tentatively take the seat across him.

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, alright? I can guarantee you that unless you're trying to tell me you're an Omega, nothing you say is going to shock me that warrants the amount of panic you're putting yourself through," Price chuckles. He's obviously joking, trying to break the tension with humor. Lips drawn upward into a small smile, the Captain stares at you expectantly.

"What if I am?" You whisper, eyes unable to tear from his visage as you try and gauge his reaction. Unexpectedly, silence fills the space between you and feels deafening in the small space. The growing comfort of his office these couple of months now feels like a cage you're forced to stay in, under watch, as you stare down your superior on the brink of a battle to the death. And that's what you do. His blue eyes bore into yours, skeptically shifting between your left and right as he seems to try and get a read on you.

All of the sudden you jump at the smack of his hands hitting the desk in front of him. He laughs at you.

He's laughing at you.

And you're sitting there with your guts spilled out, dread eating away at the pit in your stomach... and he's laughing. It feels like forever is passing you by as you stare at him in shock, this moment between the two of you frozen in time as nothing else persists.

"I understand what this was now," Price explains, still chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. There's a warm smile on his face that feels eerie considering the dire context of the situation at hand. "You got me! I fully believed you for a second there, too."

Eyebrows furrowing in dark realization, you can't help but stare at him wildly. "Wha-" You begin to question him and his line of thinking, but he cuts you off.

"This was all a prank, right? The bottle, the hysterics- you really outdid yourself, Sergeant." Leaning back in his chair, he props his ankle up on his other knee. "Because let me tell you, this was good. Better than anything Soap's cooked up in awhile. Did you come up with it yourself?" There's a cheeky grin on his lips. "Ah, I know you did."

Lips opening and closing like a fish out of water, you sit in the armchair across from him pale with a dazed look across your face. He doesn't actually think that this was...

"Well, with your little triumph in your pocket, I say we get back to work, yeah? I've got some new leads from MI6 that've just popped in." With that, the man stands from his desk and rounds it. "Garrick should be back around Tea. I'll see you in the Command Station then," he informs you. It's then that he passes by, a genial clap on your shoulder while he's at it.

Left stunned in silence, you can't help but grit your teeth, consequentially pronouncing your jaw as anger ebbs through your bloodstream. Breath getting heavier, you can't help but loathe the meeting tonight. Your Captain might be satisfied with the conversation, but all you feel is discouraged. He's abandoned you, left you alone in his office with a humiliating sense of betrayal and shattered trust. Almost like you hadn't just told him your biggest secret at all.

Punching the standard heavy punching bag hanging in front of you, you grunt, ignoring the pain that gnaws at your knuckles underneath the reusable hand wraps. Sweat builds on your brow as you continue to unleash your pent up anger on the gym’s equipment. How could he?! When had you ever pulled anything even similar to this? Never! And the fact that you’ve only been on the team for a handful of months only exacerbates the abandonment you’re feeling right now. He’s your Captain! Regardless of your feelings or the situation at hand, isn’t he supposed to be there for you? He’d promised from the get go to help you with whatever you need, and now the one time you go to him for aid it backfires in your face and leaves you without any sort of solution going forward aside from straight up telling the whole team the flat out truth, and God forbid! You can’t even begin to fathom how that’d go.

A pent up and frustrated yell almost akin to something of a growl emanates from you as you tear into another round of swift jabs and punches. Regardless of the situation at hand, you’ve been trying to build up your upper body’s strength and letting out the anger you’d accumulated over this morning’s events seemed like a perfect opportunity to let loose.

The stretches and treadmill routine didn’t take a lot out of you, but the weights, and now the punching bag definitely is starting to take its toll. Sweat beads at your forehead in rivulets that drip down the sides of your neck, down your scalp past your neck and between your shoulder blades. Tank top soaked in sweat, you breathe hard as your heart pumps rapidly in your chest. You would’ve wound up here at some point or another tonight, but the Captain’s discourteous response certainly led to an earlier workout time.

While others sparsely litter the gym’s floor, you pay them no mind and vice versa. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be found blowing off steam or aiming to beat their highest reps on the weights. Yet, this gym is reserved for higher standing members of the Force, the gym on the far side of the base where there are less people, offices, and considering the regular army men train in the bigger gym closer to their quarters, it’s mostly other higher ranked officers in here.

“Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” Markowski, another Sergeant that you’d come to befriend on base announces from the doorway, having poked his head in after leaving a few minutes earlier. He belongs to a different Task Force.

A groan tumbles out of you as you realize it’s already that time. Just as the door clicks shut, your phone chimes loudly with the alarm you’d set earlier going off. A few quick swipes of your fingers, you turn the alarm off and unlock the device, seeing a number of messages flood your notifications.

Kyle: You hear they’ve bumped up the timeline? 😯

Johnny: “ https://Tiktok/Shattered.Rat567 ” Had me rollin’ 🤣👏🏻 Gotta check it, Bonnie

Simon: You coming to the meeting or not? 🤨

Johnny: Where r u? You’re usually first here 👀 Cap’s getting peeved, watch out

Not looking forward to the inevitable mess of a meeting before you, you don’t bother rushing to join the men. With a wash of your face in the women’s locker room, a speedy bathroom break, and a grab of the items you’d brought with you, you’re heading for the Command Station.

With the time Price set the meeting, you won't get to eat dinner till afterward. You'd be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by this entire situation, your agitation from neglecting your hunger earlier has certainly come to bite you in the backside.

While you don’t have time to respond to their texts, having set the alarm with only enough time to get back to your team’s Command ‘station’ albeit more like your headquarters before heading out. Speed-walking through the orderly halls with a haste perfectly common around here, you navigate with a well practiced knowledge. Though you’ve only been here coming up on six months soon, you’re well acquainted with this part of the base.

Rounding the corner, you’re in the hall, close. Yet, the worry of being late lingers in the back of your mind and adds another layer of annoyance on top of your residual anger buried deep down from this morning’s situation. You’d inevitably come up with your solution. It’s not one you like… but it’s the only logical option. Another turn and you’re striding into the big garage-like room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sergeant,” Price calls out to you. Lifting his eyes from the map laid out across your station's table, he glares in your direction.

“What took you so long?” Soap snaps, his brows slightly furrowed as he stares at you from the opposite side of the table, hands lazily wrapped around his vest’s straps.

A look at your watch tells you that you’re not even late, the meeting doesn’t officially start for another minute! But you are usually waiting on them. He’s got you there.

“Yeah, you’re usually the first one here. It’s not like you,” Gaz whispers under his breath as you sidle up alongside Ghost, Gaz standing diagonal to you right beside Price at the head of the table.

“Focus,” Ghost orders the men, his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pocket. You don’t fail to notice the way he subtly takes a step further away from you as soon as they start talking again. Price goes back to talking plans as Gaz is questioning the circumstances of the information the Captain had acquired earlier when he’d had to leave the office.

“Which is exactly why-”

A heavy exhale on your behalf leaves the men frozen as their eyes drift back to you. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Panther?” The Captain questions. Jaw clenched, you tear your eyes from the map they’d settled on.

“We’ve got a big problem,” you announce, cutting off the Captain as you finally raise your gaze to meet Price’s slightly widened blue eyes.

“Well, if you see something that needs changin’ then let’s hear it,” he responds. A ‘hmph’ follows as he crosses his arms over his chest and sits his weight back onto his heels.

“It’s not about the op,” you correct him. Tilting your head side to side you attempt to crack the kinks in your neck while standing a little straighter to appear more engaged and serious.

“And it’s more important than this? What we’re doin’ right now?” Soap questions, his hands dropping to rest on the table as he looms over it, eyeing you with frustration obvious in his irises.

“What is it?” Gaz asks, a quirk of his eyebrow garnering your attention for a split-second. He’s genuinely asking, and there doesn’t seem to be a hostility in his scent as he turns his attention to you. Then there’s Ghost, who you don’t even need to look at to feel his heavy gaze on you, waiting expectantly.

“Actually, it is,” you argue with Soap, anger beginning to boil in your belly, the frustration and angst having been left to simmer all afternoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I came to you earlier,” you turn your anger on Price. He looks taken aback by the outburst, something you’re not known for.

“Dove,” he calls calmly, hands out in an attempt to pacify.

“Don’t-” you bark, starting to raise your voice without realizing it. “I came to you in confidance! Trusting you when you said you’d be there to help me if I ever needed it! How could you?” Gritting your teeth, you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing as your chest heaves with anger.

“Woah, woah-” Gaz sputters, “What-” holding his hands out to try and diffuse the argument.

“I let myself be vulnerable-” You continue to shout.

“Isn’t this something that shoul-” Soap attempts to dissuade, backing down as he puts his hands out.

“-and tell you the truth, and-” you’re lunging for him across the table. You’re held back by a massive hand on your shoulder. “You laugh in my face?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You're suddenly pulled back, off your feet, and shoved into a metal chair that'd been nearby. Your Lieutenant is hovering over you, his cold eyes now tinged with a spark of anger as they bore into you scrutinizingly. There's the sound of commotion behind him, multiple voices overlapping, yet you can't see anything with that utter giant in front of you!

“Does anyone wanna explain what the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Ghost snaps. It's only then when the man steps aside that you can see where everyone is. With both of you in your respective corners, you simply glare at the Captain from over your crossed arms out in front of you.

“Are you bleedin’ kidding me, ya Scally?” Price grunts as he shrugs Gaz’ hand off his shoulder. “You’re still on about it! When w-"

"That doesn't explain what happened, Cap," Gaz interrupts, stopping him from going off and getting them nowhere.

He groans, running a hand over his face once more before composing himself. Everyone waits for an explanation—you too—he’d been the first to speak, and you’re curious to hear what he comes up with. “She came into my office, bloody cryin’, tossing me a pill bottle, muttering about, saying she’s a-”

You don’t dare let him finish, not wanting him to be the one to finally say it, exposing your truth to the team. "Omega. I’m an Omega, ” you finish his sentence. While you’re scared to meet their faces, you take a deep breath and force yourself to do so.

"Christ," Price curses, fingers coming up to pinch the skin between his brows as he hangs his head.

Ghost's stoicism is nothing unordinary, and in fact, is somewhat a comfort considering you'd expected nothing less from him.

Gaz looks stunned for a moment, eyes flitting about the other’s faces before the serious look on his face morphs. Lips slowly drawing upward, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts laughing. "Yeah right," Garrick teases, "and I'm actually the Prime Minister."

Yet, it's not just him. The uproarious laughter from your right only adds fuel to the already burning flame as the two other Sergeants laugh like idiots. All as if it's some poor joke with no consequences to anyone's life, and yet... it's the truth. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. At the end of the day, your life is still in jeopardy and they're treating it like some joke. Unable to form any sort of retort, you simply blink; stuck in a stupor raw, stung, and with a dumb look on your face.

Soap, rounding the table slaps Gaz on the back, his face flushed red from laughing so hard. "Yer makin' my stomach hurt. God," he eggs the other on between his dying chuckles and attempting to catch his breath.

"You're really just gonna stand there and laugh?!" You finally burst. Anger surely must be coming off your scent in waves, but you don't care. Standing from the chair, you don't flinch as Ghost swipes his arm out in front of you in case you were going for the Captain again. There will be no physical altercation on his watch.

"She already pulled this on me earlier, mind you, and now what? You're trying to pull it over on the lads' too, eh?" Price goads you.

"And I was telling the truth! You're the one who said I was joking," you point out. The volume of your voice is lost on you, partially blinded by the fury bleeding out.

"I suppose you never did admit to it being a prank," Price reasons, fingers grazing his beard as he runs them over it repeatedly in thought. "But how do you expect us to believe that when you clearly smell of a Beta?"

"Even on the battlefield, after everything we've been through-" Gaz starts.

"After yer all sweaty from a workout, too. I think we'd notice, Pan," Johnny argues, illuminating a legitimate point of consideration.

"Oh please," you mutter quietly to yourself. Shaking your head, you can't believe they're really all being this daft right now. "Like you have heard of those Scent Spritzers.”

There are various perfumes on the market specifically designed to alter one’s scent. Most use it smell like an Alpha when they’re not, or an Omega when they’re wanting to seduce an Alpha when going out. But Omegas posing as Betas was rarely heard of. You’re more than sure it happens more frequently than people know of, they just haven’t been caught. And in your line of work? It’s scarce. People are thoroughly vetted, but… you’d been on suppressants for a long, long time. And a Beta perfume only perfected your hiding.

“Did you forget we’re Alphas, love? We’d be able to smell you across the room if you were,” Gaz taunts. There’s a puff of his chest that makes his cockiness even more annoying than usual.

"You really want to be an Omega? Dumb yourself down to some weak fragile thing?” Johnny jokes, nudging Gaz’ arm as he shakes his head.

“A doll who can get whoever she wants? Want to be nothing more than good for knockin' up and popping out pups?” Gaz adds on.

“Are you serious right now?” You test, seething under your skin as your hands ball up into fists. “How could you say that?!”

“It’s what people say,” Ghost comments.

“Nobody would want that and you’re out here lying about it,” Johnny pokes.

“We’re only trying to point out the flaws in your little rouse, Pan,” Gaz says, a smile lighting up his features as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"And what if I was lying, hm? Would that change anything you just said to me? How you feel about Omegas?" You scoff.

“This isn’t about your designation,” Price finally speaks. Fingers still weaved into his beard, his blue eyes lift to meet yours. “I see what this is about now, but there's nothin' to worry about, Dove.” Your Captain takes on a softer tone and all of the sudden you feel yourself start to get emotional as a twinge of sadness, of the hurt bleeding through upon understanding makes you feel seen.

“I know it's intimidating, the thought of having your first unmedicated heat, but we have medics here. It's natural. Heats, ruts, we all have them. And, hey... at least you're not an Omega, right?" Whatever relief you’d momentarily experienced sinks back down in your gut with the speed of a rollercoaster drop. It’s as silent as a stakeout, the only sound being people’s breathing. And the lack of yours.

It takes a moment to gather yourself, everyone’s eyes on you with the serious topic change. While sex and the downsides to a designation are something discussed with the boys, you’d often been left out. And to your comfort. "You know what? I can’t do this,” you retort. Backing from the group, you toss your hands up. “I guess you'll just have to wait and see," you bite back. With a whip of your hair over your shoulder, you head for the door.

The room is silent once more as everyone gawks. You’d never reacted in such a manner, had an outburst like that… this is… certainly different, and something they’re not at all used to.

“It’s because they took away her suppressants today,” Price explains. It might not have been something the group should be privileged to know. A private matter, really… but with the way you acted? He felt the men deserve an explanation, at least.

“That makes sense,” Gaz responds quietly, eyes still on the door you’d gone through.

“That’s no excuse,” Johnny counters, arms crossing over his chest with a scowl on his lips.

"Well... that went better than I thought,” Ghost comments with a shrug. “Back to the plan? We can fill her in later.”

[sunsburns]

Okay I sorta think Logan is capable of knotting. Something people don’t know is his connection with animals, and allowing him to somewhat communicate with creatures. And we all know he has a great sense of smell. Anyway please humor me 😭😭😭 we know he’s half animal half man in the streets and in the sheets.

(Also when he was charging at Deadpool on all fours… yeah he’s in touch with his primal, animal side)

good fucking god. i literally had to search this up. for those of you who don't know, the term "knotting" is based on real wolf (and dog) biology where their... yk... swells up after an orgasm and basically locks them into place inside their partner. this is about to get freakkyy (18+)

logan stays hovering over you when it happens. his hot breath blowing against your skin and you breathe in every exhale. noses brush over each other, and you bring your hands up to caress his face, your thumb pushing at the deep furrow between his brows.

he grumbles, eyes still closed, unwilling to move.

you let him stay, let him slowly collapse against you, the warmth from his body rolling off in waves until he's pressed against you. chest to chest, logan brings his mouth to the crock of your neck.

you feel his hips still twitching, pelvis rolling against yours, coaxing a low, tired moan out of you. you feel so full, his bulge in your stomach, the space where the two of you meet wet and sticky, but he doesn't move.

"logan," you sigh, breathless with his weight on you. "lo..."

"hmm?"

"are you gonna...?"

"what?"

"move?"

"...i can't."

"what?" you shift, trying to sit up, but he doesn't let you. logan wraps his arms around your middle, holding you tight. his touch is gentle, possessive, and protective and he kisses the hot skin of your neck tenderly.

"can we just stay 'ere for a bit? i wanna stay close to you," his words are slurred and muffled the more he buries his face into your skin, the hair of his beard tickling you.

that's when you feel it, his cock, still deep inside you, growing. not the same way it does when he gets hard, but rather swelling, increasing in girth, pressing against your walls, stretching against them.

logan runs his warm hand up and down your sides, hoping to ease you to the feeling when a choked noise slips past your lips. "that's it. just relax, bub."

[shonen-brainrot]

Alpha!Bakugo, who spotted you and immediately recognised you as his omega: Katsuki hoped for your sake that no other alpha was foolish enough to try courting you.

Alpha!Bakugo, whose overprotective nature flares up at the mere sight of you, his mate, in close proximity with someone else. The annoyance and possessiveness surge within him – a declaration that you're unequivocally his, and nobody else has any business laying a finger on you.

Alpha!Bakugo, who's the possessive powerhouse, and takes pleasure in physically asserting that you are exclusively his. With his bulky arms draped around your shoulders, he's not shy about hugging, kissing, or even giving a playful smack to emphasize the point. In Bakugo's world, no one should dare look at you suggestively, let alone touch—you're unmistakably his, and he's more than happy to flaunt it.

Alpha!Bakugo, who's unleashing a low growl when you dare to trespass into his den unannounced, asserting his territorial dominance.

Alpha!Bakugo, who's on the brink of needing a muzzle to restrain the primal urge to mark you. His sharp, eager teeth practically ache with the desire to sink into your soft, firm skin, and he's visibly shaking as he battles to keep the feral impulses in check.

Alpha!Bakugo, reveling in the fact that he was your first partner and took it upon himself to school you in every aspect. To say he was thrilled would be a gross understatement - he practically owned the podium of satisfaction.

Alpha!Bakugo, who hits monthly ruts that conveniently sync up with your heat, creating a combustible synergy between you two, maximizing the likelihood of you getting bred with his pups.

Alpha!Bakugo, who's gripping your hips like he owns the universe while eating your pussy out. The flavor of your cunt is intoxicating, fogging his brain.

Alpha!Bakugo, who loves it when you give him head. He keeps his grip on the back of your head, switching between affectionate petting and insistent cues, all while encouraging you to take more of his throbbing cock in that eager mouth of yours. "Yeah, yeah, puppy, just like that, suck daddy's cock like a little whore you are."

Alpha!Bakugo, finding immense pleasure in watching you swallow his cum. A deep, approving growl rumbles in his chest as you swallow his seed.

Alpha!Bakugo, thoroughly enjoying creampies thanks to his colossal breeding kink. The prospect of filling you up with his thick seed and getting you pregnant with his pups is enough to make him purr and shiver in delighted anticipation.

Alpha!Bakugo, who cums deep within you and skillfully ruts his hips further in yours, ensuring that any escaping drop of his precious seed is purposefully pushed back into your womb.

Alpha!Bakugo, who, one day, catches a whiff of the change in your scent, notices it growing thicker, leaving him puzzled. Is there something amiss? Is it a sign of illness?

Alpha!Bakugo, who beams with pride and happiness the moment you reveal that you're expecting his puppies. The news fills him with a sense of accomplishment and a triumphant glow.

[navybrat817]

Out of My Head

Pairing: Chubby Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky feels a bit insecure during a romantic evening and you do your best to get him out of his head.

Word Count: Over 2.6k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, a/b/o dynamics, insecurities, self-doubt, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's crazy about you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @missvelvetsstuff, @honeyglee (chubby!Bucky), and @bucksbabee (rose petals) all requested for alpha!Bucky to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #27 and #32 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wanted tonight to be romantic. Candles, rose petals, the works. Not for any sort of special occasion, but because his omega deserved only the best. Day in and day out. He hoped it was enough to make you feel loved and adored. It was a wonder that you were with an alpha like him.

If you looked inside his head, you’d tell him there was no reason for him to think he wasn't the perfect man for you. That he was a good partner and alpha. Had been from the start. That you loved him. And you did. You never once gave him a reason to doubt that.

If only he could push away the negative voice in his mind that seemed determined to bring him down tonight.

“Bucky?”

Tilting his head, everything around him became muted as he focused on you. Laying on your side with your naked body exposed to him, he watched the candlelight cast a glow upon your skin. Both of you lost your clothes earlier in the evening, content to lay beside each other for the time being. He wished some days that you didn't have to wear clothes at all. You and your body were made to be worshiped.

Unlike him.

Bucky almost covered himself up with the blanket. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but he was soft in places where he was once firm. While he had been on the thicker side for years, he now had some pudge to go along with it. Handsome or not, he just wasn't in the same shape he used to be when he was younger. What if one day you didn’t like that? What if you wanted someone different? Stronger?

Better?

“You're thinking too hard again,” you said, picking up one of the rose petals to brush across his forehead. He smiled when he realized you traced a heart. “I can feel it.”

He inhaled your scent to ground himself. Orange, cinnamon, honey. The aroma of you made his mouth water. It comforted him, too. He hadn't associated any kind of smell with a sense of home until you.

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled, nuzzling into your pillow more as you gazed at him. “What about me?”

“Just how amazing you are,” he answered.

When he looked into your eyes the first time, he expected to see his imperfections staring back at him like they had with so many others. But the way you looked at him with kindness, acceptance, and want, everything fell into place. Pieces of himself he didn’t know were missing found their way back to him and made him while again. His heart didn't stand a chance.

It belonged to you.

Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

How is that possible? How does a goddess want me? What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

“You know you look at me some days like I'm not even real?” You asked, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. He moaned and turned his head to nose along your wrist. He craved your touch and scent like nothing else. “Like you're in some sort of a dream and you're afraid you're going to wake up if you look away.”

“Because you’re everything I could ever want. You occupy every single thought in my head, and every single dream,” he whispered. Even his dreams couldn't come up with someone as amazing as you. “And maybe I am afraid that this isn't real.”

Your brows pinched. “Why is that?”

He leaned over to kiss your forehead, wanting to ease the worry from your face. “I’m not sure. You just seem too good to be true and it feels like I might wake up to find you gone. Or that one day…” He rested back, swallowing hard. “You’ll decide you just don't want me anymore.”

You whined, a distraught sound that broke his heart. He wanted to take back those words, but he didn’t want to hide his feelings no matter how much it hurt to talk about them. “Bucky, I’m not going anywhere.” You shook your head vehemently as you sat up. “And I want you. I always do. Why would you ever think I wouldn't want you?”

“Because look at me.” He waved his hand over his torso, averting his gaze as if to hide his vulnerability. “How can someone like you want someone like me?”

He wanted to take the words back the moment they left his mouth when another wounded whine spilled from your lips. You placed your hands on his cheeks and brought his gaze back to you. There was mist over your eyes like you were going to cry and he wanted to chase that look away. “How can I want you? Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? How wonderful you are?” You kept a hand on his face as the other slid down to his neck. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

His eyes slowly opened. He hadn't realized he shut them. “Doll, I’m sorry. I-”

“You're perfect. Inside and out. And don't say you aren't because you're perfect to me.” There was a hint of a growl on your tone as your hand moved lower. Well, as much of a growl as an omega could muster. You defended him so fiercely. “No one takes care of me the way you do. No one loves me the way you do. I’m the luckiest person in the world because I get to call you my mate.”

A strangle moan escaped when your hand brushed along his stomach. He never thought it would feel so sensitive, but no one else has really touched it since he got bigger. Except for you. “Omega.”

“You think you aren’t everything I want?” You tilted your head so he could see the mark he left. His chest swelled with pride. You never covered it up or put a collar over it, wanting everyone to see that you were claimed. He had a mark, too.

He was yours just as much as you were his.

“I know in my heart that you want me, I know that. I can feel that. But my head keeps reminding me tonight that I’m just bigger than I used to be and I have no idea why,” he said, shutting his eyes again. “It’s stupid.”

Why was his body such an issue this evening? This was supposed to be romantic, not a time to pick at his inner wounds. Maybe there was a reason he wasn't aware of. Maybe he needed to cut the wounds open so the warmth of your bond could slowly heal them.

“It isn’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, do you hear me? And you being bigger? Isn't that just more of you that I get to love?” There was no disgust or judgment as you rubbed his stomach again. Your sincerity almost made him choke up when he opened his eyes to gaze at you. “Bucky, believe me when I say that this isn’t a dream. This is real. I'm real and I love you. I’ll love you no matter what. That is never going to change.”

His chest rumbled at your declaration and he couldn't help but reach for you, needing to feel your body close. “I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes again when you pressed your lips to his. The bond crackled with your affection and care before his tongue slipped past your lips. The crackling intensified, your desire and need flowing into him like molten lava. It was going to burn him alive. He’d gladly perish that way.

Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry.

“Feel this,” you urged when you broke the kiss, putting his hand over your heart.

“Is that for me?” He asked as it raced under his touch.

“It’s only for you, Bucky,” you promised, slowly guiding his hand down your body. “Now feel this.”

You didn't stop until his hand rested between your thighs. “And that’s for me?” He growled as he touched your pussy, your slick coating his fingers.

You gasped and he half expected you to agree that it was, but you pulled away. He tried not to let his insecurities bubble back up and hoped his scent didn't change to something unpleasant. You assured him that he was perfect in your eyes. That you wanted him. And loved him. But it didn't mean you had to-

“It’s for you. Only you,” you said, turning toward the front of the bed to press your chest against it. “See, alpha?”

Bucky sat up as you raised your hips higher and presented yourself to him. He growled softly as he licked away the wetness from his fingers and eyed your twitching, slick-drenched hole. The blood that roared in his ears quickly rushed south and the beast inside snarled at the insecure voice to not say another word. You wanted him. Would always want him. You assured him of that with both your words and your body.

“Take a good look. It’s such a pretty hole for you to ruin. You want to ruin it, don't you? Ruin me?” You asked sweetly, briefly lifting your head to look over your shoulder. The blue around Bucky’s pupils shrank to a small ring, barely visible from how aroused he was at the sight of you. “Please, wreck me. Make me say your name.”

He had a hand wrapped around his cock, the alpha within him clawing to break through the surface. Biology would've screamed at any alpha to take you. Knot you. Breed you. But you didn’t want just any alpha. Wouldn't beg for just any alpha.

He was the alpha you chose.

“And you know that isn’t my instinct talking since I’m not in heat. This is me wanting you, Bucky Barnes,” you said as if you read his mind, snaking a hand between your legs. He almost wished you were on your back so he could play with your beautiful breasts, but he had all night to do so. “I’m so wet for you and so empty. I’m aching. You don’t even have to prep me. Just get in me. Take me.”

You gasped when he was suddenly behind you, his large body draped over yours. “That’s my pussy you're touching, omega,” he growled, pinning you down by the neck. “And I’m the only one getting you off tonight.”

“Yes, alpha,” you purred.

His belly rubbed against you as he raised your hips an inch higher and he tensed up only for a moment before he realized you pushed back against him, trying to take him in. He growled as he sat back and looked down at you, your body quivering from the low and feral sound. Deeply inhaling, he could taste your lust and love on his tongue from how strong it was. As much as he wanted to dive down and devour you, he needed to fill you up and leave his mark inside you once again.

“Not just gonna ruin you with my cock,” he said, brushing the thick head of his cock between your folds. “Gonna ruin you with my mouth after. Make your flood it with that sweet slick and drink it down ‘til you scream how much you love me.”

“Yes. Please, alpha. I want your cock. Your mouth. Anything,” you begged, keeping your head down when he folded over you again. You didn’t fear his size or weight crushing you. It excited you. He could smell it.

“You need me?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Say my name.”

You whimpered when he pressed himself against your entrance. He tried to go slow since he hadn’t prepped you, but you could take him. “I need you. Only you, Bucky,” you sighed, trembling as he pushed in an inch more.

He gasped out your name, powerless to resist the pull as he sank as deep inside you as he could. His eyes fluttered when you clenched around him. Nothing felt as good as your slick cunt. Tight, but opened up for him so beautifully. And nothing else mattered or existed outside of you.

“Move, please. Don’t hold back,” you moaned.

Overwhelming pleasure flowed through him as his body blanketed yours. You embraced every part of him and he wanted to smother you with his scent. “Remember, omega, you begged for this.”

Whatever sense of control he had disappeared as he thrust, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his grunts a stark contrast to the romantic setting of the room. You couldn't push your hips back, but your pussy welcomed each movement as you cried out. Even with his vicious thrusts, it was somehow sensual when he nuzzled your neck.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Yours,” you moaned.

He hadn't known he said the words aloud, too lost in his primal haze. By the sounds of your moans and feel of your clenching walls, you were close already. It pleased him knowing how much he pleased you. He wanted to draw it out, make it last. He also wanted to bring you over the edge again and again.

“Does that feel good? You love getting fucked by your big, strong mate?” He grunted, heat pulsing through his veins.

“Yes. So strong,” you whimpered, reaching back to grip his hair. “So big.”

He groaned, raw pleasure bubbling through every part of his body. “Yeah, I'm big and you love it. And you love my cock ruining your pretty hole?”

“Yes, Bucky. I, hmm, love your cock.” You mewled when his teeth scraped along your skin. “Love you.”

He nosed along your neck again, slipping a hand beneath your body. “Then show my cock how much you love me,” he ordered, teasing your swollen clit. “Come all over it.”

You screamed his name as promised, slick gushing as you spasmed around him. He didn't stop, his hips snapping faster and harder as you shook through it. To feel you let go and hear those sounds of ecstasy as you rode out the waves was an honor. He needed to join you on the ride.

“Such a good omega. My omega. Gonna fill you up. So. Fucking. Good.” He growled the last word as he spilled inside you, panting with his release. The sensations blended with your earlier words, surrounding him in bliss. You were bliss.

Careful not to crush or jolt you, he rolled to his side and took you with him as he stayed nestled inside you. He murmured praise against your skin as you snuggled back against him. He didn't want to leave your body just yet. Not when you felt so good. Not when the terrible voice remained quiet.

About time you shut the fuck up and let me enjoy the evening with my mate.

“Better?” You breathed, looking over your shoulder with hopeful eyes.

Both of your hearts racing still, your purr mixed with his rumble, he wondered why he was so bothered before since his insecurities weren't a constant thing. Everyone had their off days though, including you. Sometimes for no concrete reason at all. That was life, but he couldn't ask for a better partner and mate to help him through the ups and downs, big or small.

“Much better. Thank you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. “But one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

He wrapped his arm tighter around you and didn't flinch as his stomach pressed more against your back. “I love you, too.”

Always, my sweet omega.

And should you ever doubt his want or love for you, he’d be sure to assure you the way you did for him.

Lovelies, I was TERRIFIED to post this, but I'm in love with them. Maybe we'll see them again? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[after-the-end-times]

random omegaverse gang leader!eddie idea that popped into my head. Not sure if I'll expand it, but figured I'd throw it out into the ether

Omega Steve who's heading back to his car late one night and gets lightly kidnapped by a local gang because they think he's the kid of a local politician.

he rolls his eyes and tries to explain that he's no one worth kidnapping, but they still tell him to get in the suv. He huffs and says 'fine, take me to your leader. we'll get this straightened out. and you're personally paying if I come back to a parking ticket.'

he sits in the backseat on the drive, arms crossed, mouth down turned, side eyeing anyone who speaks.

they arrive at some bar, motorcycles lining the front. Steve hops out willingly, but one guy still grabs an arm to pull him through the bar's door. Steve yanks his arm away, steps into his space, glares at the guy and points a finger in his face. 'what was the point of that, hm? I was already coming in! hmph! I'm gonna speak to your little ringleader about this behavior. completely unacceptable treatment of an innocent kidnapping victim!'

the guy looms over Steve (what is he? 7ft tall?? rude) and gives him a shove backwards, Steve stumbles back into someone. the guy sneers, 'yeah? go ahead. see if he cares about some yappy omega we can use to protect our pack.'

the hands on Steve's shoulders push him back to standing and the familiar voice of somebody that he used to know says, 'what's all this about a yappy omega?'

and confusing every gang member in the entire bar, Steve's face lights up. he spins around, eyes bright and grinning. 'Eddie!' and throws his arms around Eddie's shoulders in a tight hug.

Eddie's arms encircle his waist, holding on tight. after a long moment wherein not a single gang member breathed, he lifted his head from where he'd instinctively tucked it against Steve's throat and sent a cold look at the guy who shoved his Steve

[zepskies]

Against the Wind - Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon world. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, hints of angst, fluff and feels. 

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: In His Hands

Your body is mostly numb when he pulls you out of the snow.

You utter a sharp cry when something in your side twinges, waking up your entire body like a white-hot shiv. Your ankle begins to throb as well.

“Hold on. I’ve got you.”

You only half hear the voice, a deep, coarse rumble. His form is broad and dark and blurry, but his male scent is the only thing you register with perfect clarity. 

Alpha. 

A small treble of alarm runs through you. It’s an instinct you’ve had to learn, as an omega traveling alone in rural Montana. However, something else disrupts that anxiety.

It’s his scent. His scent is like the crackle and smoke of a warm hearth. 

Safe. Your body is heavy and stiff and doesn’t respond to your commands, and yet, you feel a measure of calm when he maneuvers you into his arms. It’s a baser instinct, rooted deep in your chest. He begins to carry you down the slope of the mountain, and your vision blurs white…

Like the flurry of snow falling heavy on his jacket.  

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you're able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can't yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you...

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply.  The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest. 

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you. 

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart. 

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you. 

“Dean,” he says. 

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

“What?” he says. You hear the raised brow in his tone. 

“You sound like a Dean,” you say, perhaps a little delirious. 

Anyway, that’s when your eyes close on you again. You fall back into the warm lull of sleep, to the sound of a crackling fire, and a feeling that permeates throughout your body.

Safe.

Can’t fucking believe this, Dean thinks, as he holds you. Just when he thought his life was done throwing him curveballs.

He tips his head back against the sofa cushion with a tired exhale. It would just be his luck to find a stray omega wandering his stretch of Big Sky. Montana can be gnarly in the winter, but for the past couple of years, Dean has learned to survive here in this rental cabin for a couple of months at a time, when wandering an empty bunker gets to be too much. At least here the quiet’s peaceful, if still a little unnerving sometimes. 

He glances down at you. Now that you’re warm and sleeping again, he should find something to wrap your ankle and ice it down. It’s swollen, and he wants to take an inventory of your other injuries, so he can determine how to get you back down the mountain and through the woods, back to civilization.

The sooner he gets you medical attention and back to your life, the sooner he can get back to his—even though the thought of leaving you in anyone else’s hands almost stirs a growl in his throat.

And that last part unnerves him, makes him anxious. He begins to untangle himself from you, but his movements falter when your sweet scent filters through his nose again. Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral. 

Fuck me.

It’s almost too sweet to be true, but Dean does his best to ignore it…and what that alluring sweetness probably means. 

Dean leaves you in the morning to revisit the site where you fell. He digs through the snow and manages to find your backpack, filled with your clothes, supplies, and your phone and wallet. He returns just in time. 

The falling snow becomes even more intense, until it becomes a quiet roar outside. You watch the snowstorm through the impact windows in the kitchen, and you know what this means. You’re snowed in with a stranger—an alpha, no less. 

You also have a bum ankle, which he wrapped for you. Doesn’t feel broken, he’d said, but it could be fractured, or at the very least sprained. You also likely have a couple of cracked ribs. 

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” he asks, while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “This ain’t exactly hiking season.”

While you drink some hot chocolate he made you with a bit of whiskey splashed in (for extra warmth), you explain.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t my best idea in hindsight,” you say with a weak chuckle. “I was trying to find my way back, and I…well, I was a bit lost.”

He raises his brows wryly, still sipping.

“And to make a great situation even better, I thought I heard a wolf howl nearby,” you say. “I know most of them would rather run from us than attack us, but you can’t be sure, you know? I had my rifle on me, so I was turning around, trying to pinpoint what direction it was in…and of course, my foot slipped on something.”

You fell down that hill. You think you even hit a tree on the way down, which would explain your ribs. Everything gets a bit swirly, cold, and dark in your memory after that. 

Dean shakes his head. “Gotta say, going out there alone wasn’t a great idea either, especially now. This time of year, there’s no telling when a blizzard like this is going to come through.”

He waves haphazardly toward the storm raging outside. Your gaze falls to the mug in your hands. You don’t really want to talk about your reasons for taking that risk, but maybe giving him a little honesty will get him off your back.

“My dad and I used to hike up here every year,” you confess. “A few months ago…I lost him. So I guess this was just something I needed to do.”

You blow on your hot chocolate before you take another sip. This time when you glance up, Dean’s judgy expression has evened out into something more sympathetic. He lowers his glass.

“Well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no cell service up here,” he says.

You give a humorless huff. “Believe me, I know.”

“Which means no one can come up here and get you,” he continues, “and even when this storm breaks, I can’t carry you all the way down the mountain back to civilization. Not with the snow as deep as it’s gonna get. Now…maybe I can go down by myself and bring help back with me.”

“But another storm could snow me in,” you realize, with growing apprehension at the thought.

Dean nods. “It’s either I take that chance, leave you by yourself. Or we wait for you to heal up.”

He leaves the choice up to you with a gesture of his hand, the one still wrapped around his glass. You weigh those options with a tilt of your head. On one hand, you don't want to impose on him longer than you had to, but on the other, you really don't want to be left alone in this cabin for God knows how long while he scales the mountain by himself, for your sake.

“I think it would be better if we go down together, right? It can be dangerous, even when the storm breaks,” you reply.

Dean nods slowly, like that was what he was going to suggest too. “All right. Well, until you’ve got two working legs, you’re stuck here with me.”

“I figured as much,” you say. Your head tilts as you consider him. He has a gruff exterior, but all his actions so far have been kind, and far more than you’d expect from a stranger. And an alpha at that. 

Not to say that all alpha's are assholes, but you've had far too many experiences with the stereotype: arrogant, entitled, and handsy. Can't forget handsy. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, meeting his gaze, “and for…well, being a decent guy.”

Dean’s lips twitch. He nearly chuckles. Instead, he sits back on his side of the couch. 

“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”

He gets up from the couch without preamble, to go to his room, you assume. It leaves you feeling at a loss, like he’s trying to get away from you. You know you’re a guest in his space, so you try to respect the way he wants to be alone for a while. He definitely gives off loner vibes. 

You look around and find a collection of vinyl records, and smaller collection of books on a shelf next to the fireplace. You find Gulliver’s Travels, Dune, The Odyssey, The Wizard of Oz—books you didn’t think a guy like Dean would be into. 

You take up The Wizard of Oz, reclaim your spot on the chaise, and start reading.

That night, your dreams are plagued by the crunch of dead leaves, your father shouting at you to run, and to keep running.

The coarse roar of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short.  

You wake with a start, your body both cold and flush at the same time.

Dean is there once again. It confuses you at first, but then it all returns to you in a rush—the where and the why you’re here, once again with the alpha standing over you in concern. He grasps your shoulder and asks if you’re all right. Your breathing is too erratic for you to answer him, your eyes too wide, your body trembling.

Had you been making noise in your sleep? You blush in embarrassment at the thought. You also feel bad for waking him, and all those things get trapped in your throat.

Seeing that you’re most definitely not fine, he sits on the edge of the bed, squeezes your arm, and reminds you. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” he tells you. His tone is deep and even, reassuring.

You meet his steady gaze and manage to nod, trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m okay,” you say, with a shaky nod. He gives you a measuring look, both a question and a confirmation. You give it to him with a firmer nod. “Thanks, I…I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He exhales through his nose, accepting. “‘S all right. Don’t worry about it.” 

You feel the loss of his touch when his hand eventually slip away from your shoulder. As soon as he came into your room, he’s gone. 

Dean leaves swiftly, trying to brush off how the scent of your fear had tugged sharply at his gut even in his sleep. It not only woke him up, but compelled him to kick his blankets off and get out of bed to go to you.  

You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess. You came out of it pretty quick when he carefully grabbed your shoulder. Every instinct in his body told him to gather you into his arms and cover you with his own scent and protective embrace to calm you down. 

Through sheer willpower, he managed to ignore every single one of those instincts.  

Two days pass, in which you and Dean say very little to one another, besides when he asks you what you want to eat, and how you’re feeling. The alpha seems genuine, but guarded any time you ask him about him; anything that’ll give you a clue into who this guy is, and why he’s here. 

You try again to strike up some kind of conversation over dinner one night. 

“Do you live here year-round?” you ask, around a mouthful of burger that’s absolutely delicious. He wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a good cook. He even made the fries himself.

“No,” he replies. “No Netflix, no internet? Think I’d die of boredom. I just come up here to uh…take a beat, I guess.” 

You smile. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes you just need a break,” you say, even though your tone is heavier than you meant it to be. Your gaze, a bit distant in that moment, sharpens and focuses back on Dean. “Where are you from, then?”

“Kansas,” he offers.

“Oh really?” You brighten with that scrap of information. “My older sister lives in Topeka. She moved there for a job, initially, but then she met her guy. He’s some kind of day trader. Which is just code for sits on his ass playing Call of Duty while she busts hers.” 

Dean huffs, then crams more burger into his mouth. He hasn’t been giving you a lot to go on while you two have been talking. Unfortunately, you have the tendency to ramble and fill the silence before it becomes even more stifled. 

“She works at a bank. Smart, driven, always knows what she wants. Meanwhile, I’ve had about seven jobs in the last three years, none of which were even remotely related to my almost useless degree in Communications.”

“Yeah, doubt you need a degree in communicating,” Dean remarks, popping another fry into his mouth.

 You purse your lips at him, but the glint of teasing in his eyes makes you fight not to smile. 

“All right, smart guy. So, what about you?” you ask.

Predictably, the man’s walls firm back up. “What about me?”

“Well…why’re you up here alone? Do you have family?” you ask.

Dean quirks a half smile. “I’ve got a brother.”

“Okay. Younger, I’m guessing?”

He tilts his head at you, a bit amused at your guess. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can’t imagine you with a brother who’s older than you.”

His lips twitch. “You callin’ me old, sweetheart?”

You begin to blush with embarrassment. But also, sweetheart?

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean like…”

Dean saves you with the return of his smile.

“Yeah, he’s younger,” he says. “But he’s the one with the quasi-wife and the apple pie life.” 

“Quasi-wife?”

“They’re mated. Just haven’t gotten around to the whole getting hitched thing,” he explains. “But they’re happy. Dean Jr.’s growing up fast, already running full speed into glass doors.”

His smile is genuine when he talks about his brother, just tinged with a bit of melancholy, you think. 

“Dean Jr.?” you ask in amusement. Dean Sr. laughs a little, and you enjoy the sound, the way it lightens up his face and pulls at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, can’t say I wasn’t surprised myself to get that honor, but…hey, it works for the kid. He’s got my chin,” he remarks.

He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.

“Where do they live?” you ask.

“Out west, a stone’s throw from the City of Angels.” Dean’s smile dims. “He just had to go back to California.”

“What’s wrong with California?” you ask.

“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”

You splutter laughing so bad that your diet coke escapes you in a spit take. It partially goes up into your nose, burning, stinging your eyes, but it’s made worse by the way Dean waves a hand up incredulously. You’ve just gotten half his sleeve wet.

He meets your gaze, and you can’t help but laugh even harder. 

“Wow,” he says. 

“God, I’m sorry,” you say, still giggling. You get up, hobble over to the kitchen counter, and rip off a paper towel to try and pat his arm dry. He takes it from you and helps you back into your seat.

“I got it, Spit Take. Just finish your food,” he says, if with a dancing gleam in his eyes.  

From then on, it becomes easier for you to pull the alpha into conversation. Besides reading, napping, and staring out the window while it snows, you don’t have much by way of entertainment. Not to mention the pain of trying to get around without crutches, as it also jostles your ribs. Dean often has to help you from one room to another, which of course, you get embarrassed by.

“I’m sorry!” you yelp, when he saves you from another crash landing in the hallway. You’re fresh out of a shower, and it had taken you twenty minutes just to figure out how to wash your hair on one leg, let alone dry yourself off and get your shirt and borrowed sweatpants on. The main problem in getting back to your room happened to be the pants themselves. Their length and bagginess made you slip.

At least Dean’s learned to ignore your apologies. He now holds you by the waist, having pulled you against his chest on reflex. With furrowed brows, he notices your pained hiss when you grab onto his arms for balance.

“You okay?” he asks with a note of alarm.

“Ribs,” you gasp. They’re throbbing sharply with his hold, especially after being rattled by the near fall.

He immediately adjusts his hold lower, holding your arm and hip to support you. His hands are strong, but gentle. The warmth and pressure of his touch rattles you more than almost falling into a heap. Cliché as it might be, your heart is beating faster, what seems like in and out of rhythm. A feeling you can’t name stirs and tugs at your lower belly when you hazard looking up into his eyes. They’re a nice shade of green, like a forest floor in the spring.

“You just go ass over tea kettle at any moment, huh?” he quips, his lips tugging upward. “Come on. Where were you headed?”

“To my room, wise guy,” you say wryly, even as your blush heats your face and neck. “But this is a great taxi service.”

He snorts. “Yeah, call it the Winchestermobile.”

“Winchester. That your last name? Like the rifle?” you ask, while he helps you carefully down the hall. He nods in confirmation.

“That’s interesting. You don’t meet many Winchesters,” you remark.

“Yeah, well, ain’t that many left,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, easing you down onto the edge of the bed. His hands go to his hips as he scrutinizes your form for further injury. “You good? I was about to get cracking on some lunch.”

You offer him a grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s on the menu?”

“Nothing fancy. I’m thinking grilled cheese. Maybe some tomato soup, assuming I can find a can in the pantry,” he says.

“Honestly, that sounds awesome,” you say. “Haven’t had a grilled since…God, probably since I was a kid.”

At that, Dean smiles. “Well, I happen to make an awesome one. No less than three kinds of cheese.”

“If they’re as good as your burgers, then I don’t doubt it,” you reply. He seems pleased at that, and maybe a little bashful as his gaze falls away.

Cute, you think. Your smile grows.

“All right, well, stay tuned,” he says. He winks, tossing you a “gun for hand” gesture that makes you laugh. Dean wears a rugged exterior as easily as his winter jacket, but he’s also kind of a dork.

After lunch (delicious, as you predicted), you take the afternoon just to sort through Dean’s records and alphabetize them for him. You hunker down on the floor in front of the shelf, close to the record player. 

“I don’t need all that. I know where all my stuff is…more or less,” he says, with a lazy wave of the beer he has in hand. 

“Oh really?” you raise a brow. “Okay, let’s test that theory. Where’s Boston.” 

“Right next to the White Album, there on the left.”

Sure enough, you find Boston, as well as the White Album by the Beatles.  

“Oh my God, you actually have the White Album?” You open up the double-sided case in excitement to read the list of songs printed on the inside. “This thing is so expensive.” 

“Beatles fan, huh?” Dean says as he takes a seat on the couch. You turn your smile on him, and he stills in his seat.

“Uh, yeah. Who isn’t?” you say.

Dean shrugs with a smile of his own. “Put it on if you want.”

You bounce a little with excitement before you figure out how to turn on his record player. You put the vinyl album on Side B, moving the needle until you find “Blackbird.”

“Of course,” Dean says, slightly teasing. You turn to him with crunched brows.  

“What? ‘Blackbird’s’ a classic.”

“Eh. Everyone likes ‘Blackbird.’”

“That’s what a classic means,” you argue.

“More like a mainstream copout,” he says. You think it’s just to needle you, but you still purse your lips. 

“Fine, Mr. Music Snob. Then what’s your favorite?”

“On the White Album?”

“Any Beatles song.”

“‘Hey, Jude,’” he says, after a moment. There’s some kind of weight in his eyes, a note of melancholy. You don’t miss it, even though you don’t know why it’s there.

“Everyone likes ‘Hey, Jude,’” you quip, trying to lighten him. 

He smiles a little. “Yeah. Fair enough.”

Finally, the snowstorm breaks. Dean ventures outside and brings you back a long, sturdy stick to lean your weight on when you want to move around, though he claims he’s working on a better solution. Now that the snow has let up, he’ll be able to go out to the shed and do some work. 

Whatever that means, you think.

You watch him from the living room when he goes outside to chop some more firewood. 

He should really wear a hat. His brown hair is getting dusted white with snow flurries as he continues to swing down the ax. You notice the power in his tall frame, even covered by layers of his jacket, pants, and boots. You almost feel each chop of the wood resonate in your chest. 

Heat rises in your cheeks when he looks up, as if he senses he’s being watched. You bow your head and pretend to read your book.

His boots continue to crunch in the snow as he makes trips back and forth from the surrounding forest. Aside from the firewood, he brings back a few long, thinner logs that he takes to the shed. Soon you begin to hear the steady back-and-forth cutting of a saw. You wish you could go out there and take a look, but you can’t even get around the house that easily, let alone venture outside.

Your curiosity about this man knows no bounds, and you decide to use the walking stick he found for you in the meantime to get around without putting pressure on your injured ankle. You know it’s wrong, but you end up traversing the long, dark hallway, pushing open the door to the right, and venturing into Dean’s room. 

It smells like him, earthy and tinged with smoke. His scent is seeped into every part of it—the bed, the dresser and nightstands, the dark blue bedsheets, the desk and chair, and even the drapes. It makes you almost lightheaded at the pleasurable feeling of it washing over you.

A shudder suddenly runs down your spine and tugs at your core in arousal. With a sharp intake of breath, you have to shift on your feet, pressing your legs together against the slick already forming down below.

You’re shocked and embarrassed at first. You aim to bolt out of his room, but you stop short in the doorway as it dawns on you.

Your sister is a beta, and so is her husband. She’s never completely understood you as an omega. She never understood your parents either, or the bond they had. She always scoffed at the idea of “true mates.”

Soulmates. It was fantasy and myth, the stuff of cheesy Harlequin novels.

Growing up, you’d agreed with her, even though a part of you deep down always protested. It wanted to tell her not to open her mouth about something she knew nothing about, and would never know. 

The day you met Dean, you knew she was wrong. 

Your more logical mind tries again to reassert itself though. You remind yourself that you barely know anything about this man, no matter how attractive, kind, funny, enigmatic… 

And yet, you can’t shake that part of you that doesn’t rest until you see his face in the morning; until you make him coffee and eat breakfast together, and take any opportunity to pull more threads from him. It’s more than passing attraction. It’s more than just being stuck together in this cabin, unable to escape each other. You know, because the feeling scares you, and it electrifies your blood at the same time.

All these thoughts go through your mind when you turn back around. Slowly, you continue to look around his room, your whole body tingling. The room is neat, more or less, with everything in its proper place. It’s pretty bare though, décor wise. There’s a desk with a few scattered books and a journal sandwiched in between. A smile of surprise forms across your face.

No. Don’t tell me this guy is Mr. Dear Diary? you think in amusement. Though you wonder if it’s another way he passes his time here, especially when he’s holed up in his room.

You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it. 

You frown at the strange drawings and odd entries—dates, narratives, scraps of information on different types of mythological creatures, and even more strange, on how to kill them. 

What the hell is this?

That’s when you hear the front door swing open. You bolt from his room as quick as you can, not realizing you took the journal with you in your haste. You stuff it up your sweater and pretend like you’ve just come out of the bathroom on the way back to your room. There you slide the journal under your pillow. You jump when Dean knocks on your door.

“Hey,” he greets.

The jolting pains your ribs, and your hand goes to your left side in a hiss. 

“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He takes a step into your room, but you turn to him with a nod and a placating hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me,” you say, with a bit of nervous laughter.

He gives a half smile. “Sorry. Just come ‘ere a sec. I wanna show you something.”

He reaches out a hand to help guide you to the living room.

There he presents you with two rudimentary crutches. Your eyes widen as your free hand passes over the smooth chestnut color of the wood. Dean keeps a light hold on your elbow, just in case.

“You made these?” you ask.

“Yeah, just a bit of woodworking. Picked it up over the last couple of years,” he says.

He’s downplaying it, but you’re nothing short of marveling. You set aside the walking stick in favor of picking up the crutches, and they’re even the right size to position them under your arms.

“Now you don’t have to hobble around like Long John Silver,” Dean quips. You meet the sight of his grin with a raised brow, but you soon begin to smile. When you get close enough to him, you lean the crutches against the couch and give him a warm hug, resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” you say. It’s something he was wholly unprepared for, but he hugs you back with a chuckle.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Just then, he tries not to inhale your scent. He tries not to focus on the feeling of your body pressed soft and warm against his. You fit just right. 

After a beat, you have mercy on him and pull away. You take your crutches back up and continue to walk around the living room experimentally. 

“You think I’d be okay trying to go outside?” you ask on your way to the door. Dean tenses.

“Uh, I don’t think—”

But you’re already halfway out the door. He shakes his head and follows you with swift strides. He watches you step out carefully onto the porch like a baby deer. He cleared the snow this morning from the deck and the steps, but he’s more concerned when he sees you considering how you might step out onto the snow.

“Stay on the porch, all right, Bambi,” he warns. “You’re not wearing snow boots and it’s still pretty deep. Not to mention, I’ve been keeping an eye out for a bear that wandered through here last week—”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder in amusement.

“Okay, Alpha. Calm down,” you say playfully. “I’m not gonna go ass over tea kettle.”  

His brow twitches as he frowns. Alpha. He fights not to show his reaction to the way you said it; it calls to his baser instincts, almost stirring a rumble in his chest.

Cheeky little omega.

You keep to the porch, but regardless, you’re happy. You don’t even mind the cold. You see your breath on the air, and you tip your head back, closing your eyes with a smile as the sunshine warms your face. You inhale through your nose and let it out slowly in contentment. 

“It’s a good day, Dean,” you say quietly. 

You don’t realize that he’s watching you with a more reserved smile on his face. When he realizes it, he shakes his head at himself. He’s only been here a week with you, and it’ll probably take a couple more for your ankle to heal up well enough for you to walk again, let alone get down the mountain. 

He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life. There's a lifetime of blood, nightmares, and death that he just can't let you see behind his eyes.

Hell, he's been trying to shove it all down for the past year—in booze and odd jobs and trips to nowhere, always coming back to an empty bunker. He still wonders how Sam's managed to do it, to move on, and build a new life for himself.

If Dean's honest (and he's not), he feels a bit like this cabin; old, falling apart, and forgotten.

But he’ll have to keep taking in your brightness and warmth, continue arguing with you about music and other inane shit, and pretend that every small touch of yours doesn’t ignite his skin. That it doesn’t make him have to beat down every instinct he has to pull you into his body and blanket you with his scent, ravage you, claim you, and make you his. 

He never thought this would happen to him. He never thought someone like you was out there…for someone like him.

He knows it though, deep in his gut. You’re meant for him. You’re meant to be his mate.

Which means he’s already screwed. 

AN: And we're off! Special thanks again to Michelle (@luci-in-trenchcoats) for being my sounding board when I was first writing this series. Let me know what you think of Part 1! 💜

Next Time:

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed…

When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2

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[dmitriene]

cw: omegaverse, knotting, breeding.

simon riley being smitten over you, his precious omega, sweet thing that made his gut experience the newfound feeling of suddenly appearing butterflies, something twisting, carving itself deep inside of him with pooling, warming attraction, the mere whiff of your scent enough to drive him mad, sniff onto the air and seek out the patch of you all around, just so he could feel you in his arms as soon as possible.

he'd put the whole world down to your feet, just ask, there's nothing simon wouldn't do for you, because just being his mate makes you the most cherished thing in his life, even though only a couple of years ago he believed he'd never meet you, here you are, warm, sitting carefully on his lap, and through there are so many people around you, you're still nosing in his neck, covered with the fabric of balaclava, spreading your scent and purring.

you can clench your weeping pussy around simon's cock unexpected and tight to make him fill you up, and he would let you get away with it, his team heard more than one time that he wouldn't have kids, but when you whimper sweetly with your hole pulsing and sopping wet, pleading him to put a litter in you, keening that you want his chubby babies, he doesn't fights the swelling of his knot, the throb of his engorged girth, spurting out thick, creamy ropes of cum against your cervix.

simon will gladly accept the stinging, burning sensation of your nails scrabbling over his flexing back, tearing onto the already scarred, pale skin, your body vibrating with the force of those rumbling purrs you emit, lips wobbling and pulling into an sated smile, so small and delicate compared to him, but still wrapping him around your finger so easily, his cock locked into your cunt, not letting a single drop of his countless loads go to waste, as you chirp at the feeling.

he'd dump his duty for you, sign off the military if you'll really get pregnant, nothing more important than you at this point, and it's how simon finds himself excited about the simple possibility of starting a family, growing more possessive, his heavy hand stuck to your side, caring for you every possible minute, asking if you have eaten, how are you feeling, even massaging at your feet with his calloused fingers, completely lovesick.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[compaculaaa]

What’s actually in the Covenant of Primus

Btw here’s the full text

[harrystylesland]

Fated Mate [Part I]

werewolf, alpha!harry x omega!reader

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

┈ㆍ┈ㆍ⨯ * ₊ ୨ ♡ ୧ ₊ * ⨯ㆍ┈ㆍ┈

» Y/N «

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

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

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

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

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

The whispers around me grow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s it.

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

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

Omega Love Finder.

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

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

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

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

Basically, I like being a pillow princess.

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

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

I flick through the photos of men on the app.

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

I finally found one that matches my needs.

Harry Styles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I read on for his sexual preferences.

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

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

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

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

He’s interested too.

⋆ ˚ ⊱ ✧ ⊰ ˚ ⋆

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

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

I swallow before knocking on the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Panic swells in my blood, rushing to my brain.

He’s an alpha.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s talk.

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

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

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

“I’m a shifter. A werewolf.”

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

“Then let’s work on that.”

He wants to work on it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry grins. “I love a feisty brat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I chortle. “We’ll see.”

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

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

“That…” I pant. “That felt powerful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry senses I’m close to the edge too.

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

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

“I’m close, Daddy.” I whine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ❈ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─

» HARRY «

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

I growl. “Hell, no”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sending them to your girl?” Tom asks.

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

─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ❈ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─

» Y/N «

Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: Baby girl, don’t panic.

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: I didn’t ask for anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: Okay. I’ll let you. This once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry’s reply is instantaneous.

Harry: Done.

⋆ ˚ ⊱ ✧ ⊰ ˚ ⋆

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

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

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

Harry x

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

Alphas assume what you like.

No, scratch that.

They tell you what you should like.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until my phone pings.

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

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

Good choice. An alpha praised me.

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

What is this wolf shifter doing to me?

⋆ ˚ ⊱ ✧ ⊰ ˚ ⋆

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

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

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

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

Harry: Orchids.

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

Harry: Was that a compliment?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: Wherever you pick.

Y/N: I’ll let you pick.

Harry: What kind of food do you like?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You smell delicious, sugar.”

I arc back at the unfamiliar voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up—”

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

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

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

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

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

Wait. Maybe it is Harry?

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

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

“You saved me.” I say. “Thank you.”

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

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

The wolf howls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The rapist makes an inaudible noise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

┈ㆍ┈ㆍ⨯ * ₊ ୨ ♡ ୧ ₊ * ⨯ㆍ┈ㆍ┈

[bunnibombz]

Alpha! Simon who's scent is strong, like dark cherries and cinnamon, and makes your blood feel thick like syrup. Your own purring a distant hazy sound as you were desperately trying to spread that scent everywhere you could. You knew you would get into the shower later and it would all be gone but for now you would relish every bit of it.

Alpha! Simon who tries to be easy. Wants so badly for his fingers not to grip bruises into your hips as he pulls you back on his thick cock, your squeals and moans sending him closer to the edge as he splits you open, but he just can't help it. Can't help how your feet kicking out and the soft whine of his name leaving your lips sends him into a primal frenzy.

Alpha! Simon who flips you over onto your back with quick movement of his hands, his pretty brown eyes scanning your naked form as if committing it to memory, your plush lips parting on gasping breathes as your third orgasm left you reeling.

"So pretty" he murmured, his thumb moving to graze your bottom lip, a spine tingling groan blooming from his throat when you set your teeth against his flesh lightly. The want in his eyes could burn you alive, his free hand gripping the pillow behind your head. "The things I would do if you were mine".

"What kind of things?" You prompted, barely fighting back the haze of your heat, your cunt clenching around his cock still throbbing and buried deep inside of you.

"Put a pretty mark on your neck, to show everyone just how much I love you" he said, his voice low and rolling through your sensitive body like a wave, his hand at your lips moving down to grasp your throat, turning your head to press a hot and heavy kiss to the junction of your shoulder where the bond mark would go, "and put a pretty pup in your belly to show everyone just how much you're mine, mine only".

The thrust of his hips stole the air from your lungs, his cock twitching against your cervix as you gasped. Your hands coming up to grasp his biceps as he bent your knees up and over his shoulders, pinning you in a rough mating press.

"Want- want you- ahhh" you stammered, barely able to gather words as pleasure shot up your spine over and over.

"You want what, bunny?" He asked, his voice a rough growl as his arms tensed, hips moving a little harsher, "use your words".

"Y-your knot" you begged with a desperate sob, trying in vain to pull him down closer to bury your face into his neck, "I-I need". Words were useless at this point, the hormones from your heat making your brain feel cloudy and the burning pleasure between your legs not helping to clear the fog. With your scents burning together, it was almost intoxicating.

"Gonna cum for you, lovie" Simon groaned, his knot beginning to swell at the base of his cock, "be my good girl and take it all for me".

Spots were popping behind you eyes screwed shut, your toes curling as your cunt tightened around him, slick squirting put against your thighs and his abdomen as he pressed in, knot locking in place as he filled you with a growling moan, his teeth clenched tightly as if fighting not to sink his teeth in and take for his own. Both of you were out of breath and shaking when you collapsed back on the bed, his warm arms wrapping around your body and tugging you on top of him to ease the stretch of his knot.

"Easy now, just rest, we'll be here for a bit" Simon murmured, his calloused hand rubbing against your back, letting you adjust for comfort until you settled, your breathing slowing as you lay against him.

Alpha! Simon who keeps you securely in his arms as he drifts off with you, your hormones calming and your soft purring sending him into a deep sleep.

Price who can't help but smirk in amusement as Simon growled like a demon in his sleep when he opened the door to check on you. If there had been any doubt that Simon would take care of you, it was gone now.

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain.

this one was kind of short, but heres part two! smut and rosie lore to come soon!

series masterlist here

part two: you ought’a wear sunscreen, lovie

Simon lay in the large cold bed of the guest room he had been provided about a week after his arrival to the cabin, wide awake. The sun was just starting to come up and he hadn’t yet slept, hadn’t even tried. How could he when you were in the room next to him snuggled up into your mound of blankets on the bed? He cursed John out when he had called him after his arrival. How had he left you out of the details when he’d coaxed him into coming to the cabin? ‘Forgoht ‘bout her, pretty little one, ain’t she?’ He had chuckled into the other end of the phone. ‘S’only for a couple o’months, LT, s’long as you’re nice to ‘er she’ll keep your belly full and your clothes clean.’ He hung up after that, and hadn’t picked up any of Simon’s calls or answered a message since.  

Forgot about her, Simon scoffed just thinking about it. He didn’t believe it for a second. How could Price possibly forget about the shy, beautifully curvy, unmated, impossibly adorable Omega he paid to be a live-in housekeeper for the cabin he conveniently sent his unmated, typically uncontrollable problem Alpha to vacation in? He smelled matchmaking all over it and he hated it. 

‘But it’s working.’ Simon grunted, rolling onto his side in hopes that his inner monologue would get the memo to shut up. ‘It’s working and you know it’ And goddess, he did. It was working. She was beautiful, and so deliciously plump and he wanted to kick himself for being an ass when he first spoke to her. He wanted to kick himself for wanting nothing more than to mark her, rub his scent all over her, keep her barefoot and fat and round with his pups. He wanted to kick himself for the way he felt his cock grow hard at just the thought of putting his pups in her. He was better than that, wasn’t he? 

He wanted to kick himself for the way that he already felt protective over her, as if he had already mated and impregnated her. As if they were already married. He felt himself wanting to be no more than an arms length away from her and he barely spoke to her. She dropped a knife while she was loading the dishwasher after supper the night before and he could have cried when he heard her mumble and ‘ow’ and bend down to rub her foot. ‘Should’ve been me, should’ve been me, should’ve been me’ He had heard his wolf chant over and over in his head and he had to really work to remember that he was an extremely disciplined man because without barely a thought he almost launched himself over the kitchen island to make sure you were okay. His fist clenched at just the memory of it. 

He could’ve cried when he heard your soft moan filter through the thin walls of the cabin, you were waking up and he would be subject to another day of breathing in your scent, of wanting to protect and hold you and not being able to.. ‘And why aren’t we able to? What’s stopping you?!” That voice again. That stupid stupid wolf trying to take over his rational sided mind. 

What was stopping him?

Nothing physically, he presumed. Aside from himself…it was always himself. The memories of watching his Alpha father and how he treated his Omega mother..of not feeling like a good enough Alpha himself because he couldn’t always protect her. Couldn’t always stop him..how could he possibly be good enough to protect this sweet little thing that was being dangled in front of him? You didn’t deserve inadequacy. He doesn’t deserve you. You want to bury your ugly mug between her legs..she made you a fucking pot roast and homemade desserts and you don’t deserve her? He’d never wanted to shut the wolf up more. 

You moved as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb Simon in the room next door as you shuffled through the room, gathering fresh panties and a pretty little sundress for the day before making your way to the bathroom across the hall. The shower head spits out hot water almost immediately and you sigh, dropping your overly large sleep shirt to the floor as you step in, moaning as the steamy water rolls over your tense shoulders. You hadn’t been sleeping very well, images of your Papa floating behind your eyelids every time you closed them, causing you to toss and turn or wake up in a fright if you had managed to even fall asleep. 

You hum as you wet your head, massaging shampoo into it as you try to scrub the images and dreams from your mind, leaving you in a better mood by the time you’re done. 

By the time you step out it had been nearly an hour since you’d stepped in, your skin exfoliated and smooth, shining even. Your hair washed and conditioned, soft and silky and wrapped in a towel above your head where it would stay until you were ready to blow dry it in your bedroom, sat in front of your vanity. You take the time to lather your body in lotion, a cozy smelling one that moisturized your already smooth and shining skin before you slipped into your panties and tightened the little corset on the back of your sundress. 

It was a white number, with little roses on it that fell to just above your ankles and showed off plenty of cleavage. The skin of your chest was already red from the sun the other day when you were out in the garden, tending to the vegetables while Simon lounged in the living room (though unbeknownst to you he had spent the whole time watching your every move out of the window next to the plush armchair he had taken post in, waiting for something to happen so he could jump to your rescue), you had forgotten your sunblock again and the hat you wore atop your head did nothing to help protect your delicate skin from the blistering rays of the summer sun. 

A part of you wondered what Simon would think of the dress, and as you thought it your cheeks flushed, making you hurry across the hall back to your room to finish getting ready before he caught you, you could hear him rumbling around the other guest room, you were sure he’d be wanting the bathroom any moment now. 

Another hour passes before you decide that you’re ready to leave the sanctuary of your room, hair braided and tied with a cream colored ribbon, glasses on your face instead of your normal contacts (your eyes were bugging you, your head pounding - which in hindsight probably was a warning that your heat was coming) and a bit of makeup splattered across your face, presentable to the public..to Simon..

He’s already in the kitchen when you hit the stairs, you can smell the coffee starting to brew and hear the clumsy sound of him tinkering around in there, muttering to himself, though what he’s muttering about you’re unsure, not able to make out the words exactly. “Simon?” You question, stepping down off of the final stair, headed for the coat rack to grab your purse and your big sunhat. 

“Ye-” He choked on his own words and you turned to see if maybe he had burned himself with the coffee, not expecting to find him staring at you, wide eyed under his mask. You cock your head to the side, concerned, purse dangling from your hands as you make to step towards him. “You..uh..” He he clears his throat, closes his eyes for a second before looking at you again. “You look..pretty..” He says, and almost as soon as the words leave his mouth you feel your cheeks begin to heat, averting your eyes as you fidget with your skirt. “Did you need somethin’, Lovie?” 

It’s your turn to stutter and choke now, and you do, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times before you remember what you had begun to say in the first place. “I was just going to see if you wanted to go into town with me?” He thinks we’re pretty! He thinks we’re pretty! Your wolf howls in your already aching head, causing you to wince just the littlest of bits. “I need to grab a few things from the market..thought maybe you might want to get out..” When he doesn’t respond right away you panic, and word vomit starts to come out, not even realizing you’ve cut him off from speaking. “I mean of course, only if you want to..it’s stupid of me to assume that you even want to leave, i guess you’re technically on vacation right? How silly to think that you’d want to leave the house..anyway i’ll just be gone a few hours..” 

He’s got his back turned to you by the time you’re finished, fishing for something in a drawer. You dumb ditzy bitch! You’ve ruined it! Ruined! “You outght’a put on some sunscreen, lovie..” He says, turning around with a tube of it in his large hand. Oh! He’s so thoughtful! He’s so sweet! Providing for us like a good alpha! Can we thank him? Can we kiss him? Please, please, please!!! “S’long walk into town, s’awful sunny out..” Before you know it, his large palm is smathering a layer of the thick lotion onto your bare skin, grazing the top of your breasts. Your face is on fire, heat rushing to it, though you can’t look away from him, his brown eyes on yours as he works it in. “There ye’go, can’t have this delicate skin puckering up out there, can we?” His touch is lingering, caressing even, and you open your mouth to say something but before anything can even come out he’s opened the door, sun shining down as he ushers you out, hand going to your lower back as he steps out after you. 

The walk into town was a long one, and while you typically didn’t mind it, it felt even longer with the presence of him by your side. A tall, silent shadow right next to you, and if you stood on the right side of him he did more sun blocking than your hat ever did. You talked enough for the both of you though, and though you were sure you were annoying him with your endless babbling about the things you needed to buy and why, he was kind enough to grunt and throw in the occasional ‘yeah’ or ‘wow’ in where it seemed needed. You didn’t mind, though you were finally slowing down on the word vomit once you neared town, you found yourself instinctually moving closer to his side, wanting nothing more than to just cling on for dear life as townfolk began watching the two of you. 

You were familiar with most of them, you were an usual face having made many trips into the village since you’d been here, but something about the way some of the men stared at you was making your skin crawl. Was it because you were with Simon? Were they jealous? Or were they just being cautious because this was an Alpha they hadn’t seen before? They were used to you coming into town every now and then with John, but mostly by yourself, it was rare to see you with someone else, let alone another man. Your head pounded, and sweat began dripping down your face under the brim of your sunhat. 

Your belly cramped, a low grunt coming from your chest as it did and suddenly, you have a revelation. 

Heat, heat, heat, heat. You pouted, your wolf louder in your mind. No wonder she was reacting this way to him, you thought. It was just because you were due for your heat. You felt silly for not having tracked your cycle or paid attention to the dates well enough to realize it was time. Pups! Oh he could fill us with his litter! I bet his cock is nice and fat, get us nice and full! Your cheeks flushed as you tried to decipher the difference between your thoughts and hers, unsure of who thought what at that moment. 

“Okay there?” He asks, bumping your shoulder with his elbow. 

You look up and he’s already staring at you, eyes drawn tight under that damn mask. How was he not hot? “Just fine.” You smile, looking at him. “I have a few things to grab at the market..it’s just the next street over, can we go there first?”

He follows you silently, if he’s not right next to you, he’s trailing behind and in all honesty his strong, silent presence makes you feel safe and comfortable, at ease. You know you don’t have to watch your surroundings constantly while you’re out, he’s an Alpha, his natural instinct is to protect and he seems to do it just oh so naturally, holding his arm out to stop you when you’re about to cross a busy street, holding your hand gently once he deems it safe enough, ushering you to the part of the sidewalk farthest from the bustling street, his body shielding you if something were to happen..

He opened the doors of the market for you, got you a little buggy and though you insisted on pushing it, he refused, keeping your cute little purse safe in the childs seat once you had set it down. Simon followed along the aisles, watching you pout down at your little list and then stare up at the shelves, your frown deepening when they didn’t have a certain item and you had to settle for an alternative. You didn’t see his fists clenching around the mental handle of the buggy as he watched you, didn’t hear the internal battle he was having with his wolf about leveling the entire store because you were unhappy at their lack of a certain product. 

It was when you were waiting in line for the butcher that he finally spoke again. You just wanted some chicken cutlets, and a couple of good steaks but your body seemingly had other ideas. Your heat was coming strong and fast, evident in the way that you whimper and nearly double over out of nowhere, grabbing Simon’s hand as you grab your lower belly, lips puckered and eyebrow furrowed. 

“Al’righ, Rosie?” He asks softly, worried, looking down at you, his big hand is on the middle of your back, the other on your shoulder as he crouches down slightly, as if to bring himself closer to your level. He’d smelled you since about the time you had first whimpered walking through town, your scent making his mouth water more than it normally did, his wolf trying harder and harder to take control of him, now that you were clearly in pain though, his wolf was whining, crying for him to do something and he couldn’t just ignore it. You nod meekly, trying to suppress a sniffle, to discreetly wipe away the tears welling in your eyes. “No, you’re not.” His voice is gruff, and he cringes as it reaches his own ears. “Wots wrong, lovie?” He asks, gentler this time, quieter. 

You look up at him, lips quivering and eyes watery and his body just wants to sag. Fix it, fix it, fix it, fix it, she’s sad, she’s sad i dont like it! What’s wrong with you? Why are you letting her be sad? Why is she in pain? If he could tell himself to shut up and it actually work, he would have, but dammit the beast was right. Why wasn’t he fixing it? 

“Heat..” 

It was whispered, but it was all he needed. “Okay, lovie, lets get the rest of the groceries and get you home.” Home. Not just his boss’s cabin. Home. A meek nod in response. He tucks you into his side, dropping his big beefy arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side tightly as he gives a long hard glare to the staring Beta’s and Alpha’s lingering around, even the one behind the meat counter. Your face is buried in his rib cage, just under his armpit as you breathe in his scent to calm yourself down, but also to protect yourself from the stares of the other people. Other unmated omegas, even some of the mated ones staring you down as you burrowed into the side of the giant man, your scent marking the whole store. Why wouldn’t they stare? You were the stupid one who couldn’t keep track of your own cycles. 

Simon does the rest of the shopping for you, slapping your list down onto the meat counter as he glares at the butcher, tells the man to make it snappy. “Need t’get this one ‘ome.” He says, his arm still wrapped tightly around your body, his voice just as tight as his grip as he talks to the grocers. You’re still clinging to his side, now shaking as the pain is coming quicker and quicker, when he makes it to the check out. He’s polite as he can be when you squeeze his hand, pouting at his gruff words and demands to hurry as he unloads the buggy, hands the cashier a wad of cash from his wallet while the bag boy works as fast as he can. 

You can barely fathom the walk back home, can barely stand on your own two feet as the light of day shines down on you when Simon helps you step out onto the street some more. He’s kind enough to think ahead, hails a taxi that the town is just barely big enough to justify having and ushers you in, giving gruff instructions to the driver as he plops down into the seat next to you, grocery bags at your feet as you curl into his side. 

“S’alright, Lovie,” He murmurs into our hair, hand rubbing up and down your bicep soothingly as you whimper again. “Get you home and into a hot bath in no time, okay? Get your nest all built up for you..”

This was going to be a long, long week. 

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@wise-owl

[fic-dumpster]

Tw: omegaverse (A/B/O), alpha x f beta!reader, knotting, PiV, dubcon. Typing this really quick so no proofreading :Pi love unorthodox pairs. MDNI

“Please take my knot. Take it, please… please,” his voice went from a gravelly tone to almost high needy whimpers. He knew you were a beta and couldn’t—shouldn’t even try but he can’t help himself.

You’re under him, hips lifted off the mattress. Air can barely made it through your nostrils as your face is being pressed against the sticky soggy sheets and you wish you could tell him no—tell him to stop. Why go against nature? It was the right thing to do, but you couldn’t. Didn’t want to. Just the sting and stretch; that foreign feeling of his knot fighting against the tightness of your entrance had your insides churning as his smoldering skin scurried down your back. Fluids of all kinds mixed from the hours this ludicrous attempt was taking.

He could feel your walls spasming again and again, fluttering around his cock. He could tell you were trying hard. His rut caused him to inflate even more, opening your pretty hole as far as it could go. You’re beginning to unconsciously trash under him, accidentally pushing him even deeper and taking more of the engorged ring.

“Shou–should have… taken an omega…” you hoarsely stammered. Almost reaching your limit.

Your words stirred something dark and ominous inside him and with such an impulse growing, he took hold of your hips—harder; fingers digging into your sweaty skin. Thus making him grip it tighter than necessary. With his range ignited by your latest thoughts, he harshly shoved himself one last time. His knot completely swallowed by your aching hole as your mouth let out a silent scream. Legs trembling from the momentary burn while his arms surrounded your body and all his weight finally fell on you.

“Don’t need one.” He growled against the back of your head, holding you tight. “I have you.”