#a/b/o prompt fill

[im-his-druidess]

For anybody wondering Smith's Grove Sanitarium is the mental health facility and detainment center for the criminally insane in the film Halloween!

(22. Omega goes to an Alpha and clings on them to get away from another creepy Alpha/Beta. & 24. “My ex-boyfriend is here, please scent me before he tries to do something.”)

"'Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world...,'" you muttered, eyeing the man swaggering around the cafeteria as if he owned it.

It was your ex, someone you never thought you would see again after a tumultuous relationship and an even more volatile breakup, and yet here he was. In the same institute you were currently locked in. You would have laughed in any other circumstance, seeing him incarcerated at Smith’s Grove, but it was hard to find amusement when you were in the same building as him. Also, it was hard to laugh through the sudden surge of sheer panic rushing through you at the sight of him. Clutching your food tray until your knuckles turned white you cast your eyes around wildly. Usually people gravitated towards their own dynamic, Omegas huddled together far away from the group of loudly talking Alphas and the few Betas sprinkled amongst the remaining tables talking normally and without care.

Your ex, an Alpha that liked to puff out his chest to appear bigger than he was and bully those he deemed weaker, was busy stealing food from a smaller Alpha and laughing. Anger burned in the back of your throat at the display, but it was quickly replaced by terror when his eyes met yours from across the room.

His look of shock was quickly replaced by a wide grin full of nothing but malice.

You trembled at the sudden phantom echo of his screaming in your head, his venomous degrading words hurting worse than any slap he ever delivered, and you felt the urge to curl up into a ball. You spun on your heel and began weaving through the lunch crowd when he stood from his seat. There was a guard chatting happily with the lunch lady and you knew he probably wouldn’t do much to protect you if you approached him. Your flitting gaze searched through the sea of issued white scrubs, eyes burning at all the white clothes against the white walls and white tile floors, before landing on a spot of bright orange at the back corner.

Seated alone at a table, chaperoned by a tense guard standing a few feet away, was the Sanitarium’s most known and feared patient. Michael Myers sat with slightly drooped broad shoulders, a paper mâché mask that looked a bit like a jack-o-lantern placed over his face with his long dirty blond hair hanging in front of his masked face like a curtain, and he was eating lazily with his head tilted towards the table. Everyone knew who he was, throwing glances his way and whispering to each other, and you remembered how you nearly fainted from fright the first time the murderous behemoth shuffled past you in the halls. He didn’t say or do anything in particular that frightened you, he didn’t even look at you, but his sheer presence made your inner Omega howl at the feeling of a predator so close.

Not only was the man huge and stacked with muscles that made you gape like a fish out of water, but he was an Alpha.

Even with the mandatory scent suppressants you could still catch the natural spice of an Alpha. Immediately, an idea popped in your head, and you didn’t even give yourself a second to fully think about it before you beelined for his table.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see your ex following you and you all but flung yourself into the empty seat beside Michael Myers. Instantly all the chatter in the room stopped, all eyes swung to you, and the guard nearby paled.

Michael continued to eat.

You felt a small sense of relief wash over you as the man’s body heat seeped into your suddenly freezing body, his spicy scent tingling your nose, and his broad shoulders blocked out most of the stunned crowd. You tried to continue as if this was a perfectly natural thing to do, unraveling your plastic spoon from its napkin before scooping up a helping of mashed potatoes, and you forced your trembling hand to still before you accidently dropped your spoonful. A wave of whispers suddenly rushed through the room and you saw your ex stop and linger a few tables away. You glanced over at the giant man beside you, noting that what you could see of his blue eyes were still trained on his tray in front of him, and you couldn’t help but notice how comically small and fragile his spoon looked in his large hand.

Feeling a need to justify yourself for sitting so close to him you leaned a bit closer to whisper to him in a voice that only he could hear.

“My ex-boyfriend is here, please scent me before he tries to do something,” you said in a rush, shifting nervously in the hard chair at the sight of your ex still too close for comfort, before staring wide-eyed as Michael’s mechanical movements slowed slightly at your words.

You knew that he heard you and you suddenly wondered if you were going to meet a gruesome end by way of plastic utensil. You saw his head tilt minutely, eyes still trained on his food, but you could hear a small huff of breath beneath his mask that you otherwise wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t so close to him. It took you a few moments to realize that he was subtly scenting you. You fought the urge to shiver at the discovery of him breathing you in.

Your eyes dropped to his plate and another idea struck you.

He was picking around his food, avoiding the mushy peas and soggy carrots that was served and focusing on the mashed potatoes and bits of shredded chicken slathered in gravy, and you spotted the pudding container that was served as dessert. The chocolate pudding cup was completely empty, virtually scraped clean, and you came to the amusing realization that he had eaten his dessert first. With a deep breath you grabbed your own pudding cup and placed it near his tray.

A peace offering or a bribe you weren’t entirely sure.

His movements slowed even more and you pretended everything was normal about your interaction with the man by shoving another spoonful of potatoes in your mouth. It tasted like ash and settled in your stomach like lead, but you forced yourself to appear as normal as possible. You spotted your ex taking a few hesitant steps closer, making you subconsciously sink further against Michael until your arm brushed his side, and you nearly leapt out of your skin when a heavy overly warm hand landed on the back of your neck.

In a quick move you didn’t see he had placed his hand on the back of your neck, grip loose and almost lazy, but the possessive hold was as obvious as if he stood and shouted in the now tense cafeteria.

‘Mine’.

The guard fidgeted nervously with the taser on his belt, the crowd falling deathly silent at the uncharacteristic movement of the infamous killer, and you forced yourself not to go absolutely rigid at the unexpected touch. You noticed that your ex had paled, the malice on his face dropping to an expression of fear, before he scampered back towards his original table.

You could perfectly visualize a tail between his legs as he retreated.

Your entire body relaxed at the threat leaving you alone and you swore you felt those long fingers twitch against your neck before they pulled away. He snagged your offered pudding cup and you smiled. Looks like you both had come to an agreement and, despite sitting next to the most dangerous man in the entire building, you felt yourself relax.

[vroombeams]

Listen i want all of the kink meme prompts with Oscarmark, but I'll limit myself to asking for 8. Collar and 32. Bredding, please.

In all of Mark's years, he's never considered this. Never thought of himself as the type, really, to let himself be claimed. Too alpha for it. Different generation, different time, he's explained to Oscar about a thousand times, to varying intensities of unimpressed expressions.

But here he is, an alpha in his late forties. Here he is, with his omega between his legs, grinning. Beaming, really. His knuckles are cool, tip-tapping at the underside of Mark's chin. His fingers are nimble and quick, fastening the collar at his throat.

"There you are," Oscar says. He doesn't go far when he's done, only leans away to really get a good look. Mark won't let him go far, anyway, squeezes him between his knees just in case. "Looks good."

Mark makes a noise that he hopes comes off as more neutral than he feels. His brain just feels a bit fuzzy, is all. Admittedly his grasp on language had started to slip the second Oscar looped the collar around his neck.

Oscar gives it a little tug; one finger hooked under it, pressed snug up against Mark's Adam's apple.

"Feel alright?" For all Oscar's got a world class poker face, he's doing a bit of a poor job hiding how excited he is about this. Shifting his weight side-to-side, nudging Mark's knees with his bare thighs. Absently biting at his own lip.

And he's wet enough that Mark can smell it. Already, without a single touch, no kissing, no nothing. Just this.

Mark nods, belated. Oscar's giddy smile snaps sharp like a switchblade.

"So," Oscar says, tugging the collar again. "Gonna do your job, alpha?"

Dirty trick. Dirty boy.

When Mark grabs him around the waist and flings him across the mattress he yelps but he's delighted and he's obvious about it. Where Oscar's wet enough that Mark can feel it against his knee when he gets between his thighs, Mark's gotten so hard so fast he's gone a bit lightheaded. Something strange in the fuzzy silence in his head. Something that coats his brain and only gives way to instinct.

Oscar moans when Mark gets a rough, perfunctory hand between his legs. Feels the slick wet of him and groans back, hips twitching uselessly. He needs to be inside. Nothing else matters.

"Aren't you—"

Mark doesn't let him finish. He rears back and twists Oscar onto his front where he wants him, where an omega belongs; face down, ass up, ready to be filled and claimed.

The collar is still tight around his own neck, though. He's been claimed too, he thinks, and then stops thinking.

Faced with Oscar's wet hole, any other time he might have had a difficult run of it deciding what he wants. If he wants to stuff Oscar full of fingers. If he wants to eat Oscar out until his face is nearly as slick as Oscar's thighs.

There's nothing today. Nothing but the need to mount and fuck and breed.

There's no pause when Mark fucks inside, no hesitation; just an all-at-once thrust so hard that it splatters Oscar's slick over his pelvis.

The noise Oscar makes is muffled by the mattress. Mark hauls Oscar's hips up and folds himself over his body, chest to sweaty back, wraps both arms around his waist and holds him tight. He ruts into him like that, animalistic, brutal.

"Oh god," Oscar says. "Oh fuck. You're s—oh fuck."

Mark mouths wetly at Oscar's shoulder. It doesn't matter what he's saying, really. All that matters is that he fills his omega properly. Flood him with come and keep him full, knot him and breed him and keep him.

Oscar's muttering, back arching, insides clenching around Mark's cock. He's so deep that his knot doesn't even catch on Oscar's rim when it starts to grow. So deep and rutting against him so closely it's more of a grind than a proper fuck.

Mark bites down, catches pale flesh between his teeth and doesn't let go as his knot pops. And Oscar, usually so quiet, is keening.

"—so big," he's saying, over and over. "Feels so big, why is it—oh god, oh fuck."

Mark comes inside of Oscar with so much force that his brain can't quite grasp it. So hard and so sudden that his balls actually hurt, drawn up tight, pulsing with every gush of come he pumps out.

He feels a bit like a dishrag. Being wrung out for all he's worth, being twisted and squeezed dry.

He's still wrapped around Oscar, holding him tight enough that he's gone a bit wheezy. He's still making noises, Mark notes. Moaning long and tortured, body seizing up as he claws at the sheets. He's coming too, Mark realizes. His body reacting and responding and trying to drag every drop out of his alpha.

Mark makes a noise caught between a whimper and a growl. Oscar's insides contract around his knot again and again and Mark rubs at Oscar's belly, soothing. He imagines that he can feel it, the bulge where he's filled him up so good. A threat or a promise of what's to come; what his alpha brain wants most in the world.

"Collar—good idea," Oscar slurs into the mattress. His face is red his mouth is gaping, gasping for air.

Mark nods along obediently, rubbing his face between Oscar's shoulder blades.

now on ao3

[innytoes]

A/B/O Prompt List

In honour of Knot In My Name, the ‘Omegaverse is fucking up AI writing because they keep stealing fanfic’ fest, I made some A/B/O prompts, because fuck AI scrapers.

First heat

I know we’ve only just started dating but my heat arrived and I need you

Scent marking

I stole your sweater because it smells like you and it makes me feel safe

“Please, I want your knot.”

Why is it that I, the only beta in this OT3/4/5+, am the only one who knows what to do?

Pack dynamics

I’m trying to get things done but you smell so good

Heat caught them by surprise

Our Alpha pack member is having their rut and we’re doing rock-paper-scissors on who gets to help them out first

“You’re so cute when you’re needy.”

Knotting toys

The pack has one coveted article of clothing they all share

Courting

“I didn’t want to bother you at work so I kind of got started without you.”

Nesting

I didn’t know Omegas could have such big dicks and now I’m all flustered

“I want [Beta] to take care of me.”

Heat bond

We met via the Knottr app for a casual heat hookup and oh shit you’re my crush

Deciding to let someone new into the pack

Dystopian A/B/O AU

I love you, but your heats are so intense and I need back-up

Cute scent-based nicknames

Fuck all that, we are strong independent Omegas who don’t need an Alpha

Silly ways to pass the time while being tied together by a knot

Heat/Rut agency

“You get a little stupid when you have your rut, it’s cute.” 

Reciprocal heat

I know we’re both Alphas but I still want to climb you like a tree.

I have a specific A/B/O prompt in mind I’m gonna send you instead

[tennessoui]

“You don’t want me.”

I don’t have any au preference. I just know the potential with this one has me vibrating!!!!!

ahhh ok ok so !!! this is the long-awaited (im telling myself this) regency au snippet where obi-wan and anakin meet!! here is the tag for the au on tumblr to find the other snippets + bonus ao3 christmas tide oneshot, but chronologically this takes place first (with minor tweaks to the existing au: obi-wan always knew anakin was the duke, mace was there their first time meeting each other)

(2.4k) (squick tag: a/b/o)

At the very edge of the dancefloor, Obi-Wan stands with his hands tucked neatly behind his back as he watches the members of high society spin around the ballroom as if it’s some sort of contest.

He supposes it is.

And being unwilling to participate in such pageantry has found him invariably pushed him to the edges of their circus, his tattered, off-season clothing only cementing his place there.

He has stopped caring four seasons ago, taking his cue from his elder brother. The people who could not hold their tongues called Mace spinster to his face, and conceited behind his back. But Obi-Wan was there at his side the first time his brother realized high society had moved forward without him: he had seen the relief that accompanied his slumped shoulders, had seen how much lighter his eyes grew when the last of the alphas at the ball dragged their eyes past him as if he were invisible.

Almost immediately, Obi-Wan, all of ten and seven then, had wanted that freedom for himself. Alphas were exhausting. Society alphas even moreso. When his brother had stepped back to a nominal role in the season—present only in body, only as chaperone to his four younger omega siblings—Obi-Wan had been eager to step into the shadows with him.

“Alas, my ankles hurt,” he told every alpha—of which there were only a handful—who asked him to dance over the past few seasons.

Eventually, they stopped asking, though Obi-Wan still attended every dance of the season, if only to witness Bant trip over herself in front of her flutist, or to watch Aayla dance the night away with a bright smile on her lips.

He’s startled out of his contemplations by the arrival of his brother, who offers him a discreet flask from his coat pocket. “To the beginning of another season,” Obi-Wan tilts the flask towards his brother with a smirk. “May we be fat with children come spring.”

Mace huffs out a snort and takes the liquor back from him, medicating with a hearty swig before he tucks it out of sight once more. “You know, Obi-Wan, you do not have to wear the cloak of the cynic just because you like how it looks on me.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Obi-Wan replies, looking across the ballroom. On the other side of the cavernous space, people are starting to flock towards the doors, each louder and more enthusiastic than the last.

Beside him, his brother lets out a sigh. “I remember a boy who took great pleasure in his dancing lessons once upon a time. What turned him into this man, who I have not seen take to the floor once in five years?”

“His dancing partners,” Obi-Wan quips back, stealing the flask from his brother’s coat. “What do you think that is all about?” He inclines his head to the gaggle of alphas and omegas alike, clamoring at the base of the great staircase.

Mace shoots him an incredulous look. “Brother, surely you must know.”

Obi-Wan scowls. He does not appreciate the tone nor the implication that he is behind on some great piece of societal news.

“The duke Skywalker has arrived,” Mace says quite slowly. “He is spending the season here, as these are his ancestral grounds. The king wants him to settle here apparently. We have been ungoverned for too long, and are thinking of dangerous ideas. ”

“Hah,” Obi-Wan replies. “I suppose it is of no coincidence that he has arrived at the start of the season? Is he in want of an omega?”

“Surely he must be,” Mace dips his head. “Though I believe it wouldn’t matter if he were not,” he raises his eyebrows pointedly in the direction of the crowd.

“Because everyone else is in want of being his omega,” Obi-Wan finishes and shakes his head, a strange surge of pity welling up in his chest for the alpha duke. It is not often he recognizes someone so thoroughly trapped, which is the only thought in his head when the doors finally open and reveal their duke.

The man stands tall in an outfit of daring red, a color that has not been popular for at least a few seasons. Obi-Wan thinks this is probably about to change now that society has seen the way the shade looks on the duke’s well-muscled body,  the way its darkness highlights the tarnished gold of his wild hair.

From his position on the landing, the duke looks over the crowd. Obi-Wan can see the way his eyes widen slightly at the crowd that awaits him at the bottom of the stairs, though he cannot be surprised. He barely resists the urge to snort when he sees the way the alpha’s nostrils flare as he scents the room. In the city, this must be acceptable practice, but here? It is uncouth to the extreme. But of course someone as wealthy, handsome, and eligible as the duke will be able to get away with the action.

The duke’s face darkens suddenly, head still tilted a touch too high to be natural. Ignoring the guards who have announced him and who now are trying to gently urge him down the steps to his doom, he steps forward to lean against the marble banister as his eyes focus on the party below him, as if intent on making eye contact with each of his subjects before deigning to walk amongst them.

“It will be the mating of the century,” Obi-Wan says, taking another sip from Mace’s flask.

“It will be a boon onto our business,” Mace replies. “If the amount of omegas through our doors just for tonight’s dance is any indication.”

Obi-Wan blinks. He’d noticed that the business in their tailorshop had increased rather substantially in the past month. He hadn’t realized the duke’s presence had anything to do with it, though he supposes it makes sense.

“And here I thought our recent fortunes were due to your clever hands.”

Mace snorts and confiscates his flask. “One day, my vexing brother, your clever tongue is going to get you in trouble.”

Obi-Wan is a respectable omega and gentleman, so he does not stick out his tongue in response. Alright. He does not stick his tongue out at his brother for very long.

“Pardon me, I believe I should say hello to Mrs. Dubrey,” Mace nods across the way. “Smooth over Depa’s fourth late-to-return library book.”

“Mrs. Dubrey’s standing by the refreshments table,” Obi-Wan points out. “You’re not fooling anyone. And I would like a honeycake, thank you.” 

Mace rolls his eyes and claps him on the shoulder. “Then I’m sure a strong and willful omega such as yourself will find a way to get one.”

He takes his leave to the sound of Obi-Wan’s displeasure, which is apparently music to his brother’s ears.

—----------

Not two songs have passed before Mace is back in front of him, strange, troubled expression on his face. He offers Obi-Wan a honeycake wrapped carefully in a linen napkin.

“Why do you look so perplexed?” Obi-Wan asks, taking the food gleefully from his brother’s hand. “Was Mrs. Dubrey immune to your charms? Do we owe her a horse to pay for Depa's fees? Can we lend her Depa instead? With the stipulation we care just as much about a properly observed return date as Depa has in the past, of course.”

“I…I ran into the duke,” Mace says, ignoring everything else, eyebrows furrowed. Obi-Wan startles. “Or—the duke accosted me may be more accurate.”

“Pardon?”

“I was chatting with Mrs. Dubrey, and then suddenly, he was standing before me. It startled me half to death, mind you, he is...very intense, but—”

His brother breaks off and tilts his head as he looks at Obi-Wan. “Was he untoward?” Obi-Wan asks, preparing to set his honeycake aside to approach the duke and challenge him to a duel for his brother’s honor, should the situation demand it.

“No,” Mace says sounding only slightly unnerved. “No, he—scented me from afar, and asked whose scent I wore over my own.”

Obi-Wan blinks and then stares.

“Obi-Wan,” now Mace’s voice is more hushed as he leans forward, hand grabbing his shoulder. “The only scent I could possibly carry apart from mine is yours.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head slightly, eyebrows furrowing for a moment before a curl of a new scent shocks him into stillness.

Cedar and snow, clinging to the edge of Mace’s coatsleeve, and Obi-Wan is leaning forward before he even realizes it, mind focusing only on the sleeve—the smell—the cedar—the snow.

“What did he—” he starts to say, but before he can finish the question, his attention is captured by cedar&snow growing closer, stronger. 

Overwhelmingly closer. Overwhelmingly stronger.

“Pardon me,” a voice says from behind him, and Obi-Wan is turning around as if someone else is controlling his puppet strings.

Cedar and snow threaten to tear his senses asunder, so crystal clear is the scent. For one moment, he blinks in sudden, unnatural quiet as the duke Skywalker comes before him. He’s taller than him though only by a few measures. He’s older than him too, though only by a few years. Perhaps five seasons more mature, at most. A scar cuts through his brow, giving him the appearance of some sort of devilish rogue, despite the neatness of his outfit. His hair has much more shades up close than it had far away.

And suddenly how close the duke is as he stops to stand directly before him, eyes roaming over his face not unlike a starving man looks at a feast.

And then the duke bows in front of him, to him, and it is so incredibly wrong that Obi-Wan can only gape from his figure down to the upturned hand the alpha holds out. 

Mace nudges him; it’s effective in snapping him into action, though it does little to make this reality sensible again.

He rests his palm in the alpha’s hand, and the duke curls his fingers around it as if he has been given the most precious jewel in the entire kingdom.

The duke’s nostrils flare again at whatever scent Obi-Wan must be leaking into the air around them, and Obi-Wan darts a nervous look towards his brother. He is wildly out of his depth, but Mace does not offer much help.

“May I have this dance?” The alpha asks. His thumb strokes along the inside of Obi-Wan’s wrist, so close to one of his scenting glands that the action feels scandalous.

Obi-Wan swallows. “May I have your name?” He asks, clawing at normalcy as his instincts and body begin to revolt. But he would not be Obi-Wan Kenobi if he allowed himself to be so easily overpowered by his sudden urge to show his throat to a rather intense and powerful (and handsome and sweet-smelling) alpha.

The duke blinks, but rather than scowl at what can be nothing but a slight, his face breaks into a smile. “Anakin,” he says eagerly. “My name is Anakin Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan is helpless but to smile back. “Charmed,” he says because it’s true.

“May I have this dance?” The duke asks again, much more insistent now that the newest song has begun.

“You do not want my name?” Obi-Wan asks.

“I will learn it,” Duke Skywalker says so confidently that Obi-Wan would be hard-pressed to doubt him.

He opens his mouth—to tell him his name, to tell him he will dance, to tell him he cannot—but before he can get more than a breath into his lungs, his eyes are dragged away from the duke’s face by movement behind his shoulder.

People.

People staring, whispering, tongues wagging as they observe.

Obi-Wan takes his hand back, cold reality seeping into his field of vision. “You don’t want me,” he tells the duke quietly, leaning his head forward so that the words stay as private as his shame. “I promise.”

The alpha rears back as if Obi-Wan has said something deeply offensive. “I assure you, I do.”

“You do not,” Obi-Wan says firmly, turning slightly away toward the surety and safety of his brother.

“May I have this dance, omega?” The alpha catches his elbow. “Please.”

“You do not even have my name,” he says—the words are supposed to leave his mouth scathing, but instead they fall to the ground between them, heavy and lost. Before the alpha can reply, Obi-Wan shakes his head, so cognizant of the onlookers that he can hardly move his lips. “The song is almost over.”

“Thank the heavens then that the night is still young,” Duke Skywalker says immediately.

“My ankles hurt, I would be a terrible dance partner,” Obi-Wan murmurs. Mace makes a noise next to him, one that is half-disbelief and half exasperation.

“I shall have no other,” Anakin replies, stepping forward and carefully touching the dance card Obi-Wan has strapped to his wrist. “I would take all your remaining dances for myself.”

Obi-Wan’s lips curl up into a small smile. “I think that would lead to a riot, your grace.”

“Ah. So you know who I am. I wasn’t sure.”

“Know who you are? You bowed and gave me your name. I was listening.”

“You are vexing,” Anakin decides with a smile, as if the discovery is one to be worshipped or at the very least treasured.

Obi-Wan does not truly think of his actions or of their consequences. 

The last person who called him vexing had been his brother.

He is acting purely on learned behavior when he raises his chin and sticks his tongue out at Anakin. A second later, of course, he remembers himself and startles back, feeling the blush grow over his face as he blinks at the duke in front of him.

His brother groans. “Obi-Wan,” he swears as if his name is a curse. “For the love of—”

Anakin’s eyes have gone very dark. “Obi-Wan,” he repeats, testing the name on his tongue.

Obi-Wan swallows, and then, perhaps minutes too late, bows to the duke. 

“May I have this dance, Obi-Wan?” the alpha asks, extending his hand between their bodies.

This question, repeated for the third time still just as sweetly as its first iteration, causes the blush to darken across his face.

He allows his hand to rest in Anakin’s.

With his other hand, he deposits his untouched honeycake into his brother’s open palm. After a second’s consideration, he maneuvers his dance card off the circle of his wrist as well, dropping it next to the pastry. 

He has a feeling that he will not be needing it for the rest of the night.

[wlwomegaverse]

Give me some filthy omegaverse with alpha and omega who just need eachother. Something feral. Something passionate. Do as you will! -Soft

Ok, not sure if you mind that it's oc x reader (trying something to fight my writer's block).

So here's some feral yet loving female alpha x female omega reader

Contains: explicit sexual content, oral sex, hinted strength kink, mild size kink (+ mild belly bulge & even milder cumflation), risky sex, knotting, a hint of knot fucking, implied breeding kink, possessiveness, biting (+ mild blood), nest sex.

You've promised yourself that you'd never be that kind of omega.

Then you've met her and you're not known for keeping your promises, are you?

Not quite your fault if she's exactly your type (as if you had a type before, she doesn't need to know, does she?) More like her genetics's fault, all complaints should be directed towards her parents. She's not even the usual stupidly tall and broad and muscular alpha, just enough that you can easily curl on her arms and feel comfortable in that warm safety.

And her cock?

An addicting masterpiece.

And you haven't seen each other for a whole week, so really, it's not your fault that you're this needy when she gets home from her stupid work trip. Her bag is barely on the floor before she gets her arms full of you, you think it's already instinctual for her to lift you up and for you to wrap your legs around her hips. Her hands are rough and warm as she grabs handfuls of your butt, she kicks the door behind her and turns to press you against it.

It's not a surprise that she's already hard.

She growls lowly when you push her, but still moves back and allows you to be on your feet again. Shaky knees like the weak omega you turn when you're so turned on your pussy aches. You just happen to like how her cum tastes, you also happen to know that a good blowjob tends to make you end up stuck to her cock via an impressively large knot.

You need that fucking knot.

That fucking cum making you feel like your alpha has just bred you.

"I think your love language is choking on my cock," she watches as you work on her belt.

"Your love language is to fill me up like I'm just a cum dumpster. And fill every hole."

"You're too fucking hot, I hate you."

You can't really answer with her cock already in your mouth.

Your throat and your jaw always aches after a long blowjob session, or even a medium, anything that is for more than to get her hard. Your alpha is large, you never even asked for how many inches, a number would make it real. A number would probably make you doubt yourself even if you can take her fucking every hole.

Your alpha isn't ashamed to moan and grunt in pleasure, she doesn't hide her pleasure, she lets you know you're doing a good job. You don't even try to get more of her cock into your mouth, stopping before her cock head touches the back of your mouth. Your left hand curls around the rest of her cock, slowly stroking, your right hand plays with her balls. Her large, swollen balls full of cum you need inside of you.

She doesn't give you a chance to get a sip of cum, pulling back and pulling you up by grabbing your shoulder. There's even more lust in her eyes than in yours.

The couch is only a few steps from the door, she pushes you to bend over the back of it. You whine in response to the almost constant growl coming from her, the small flat already heavy with the arousal scent from the both of you. Hers just a little heavier – or you're just more sensitive to hers.

She only pushes the panties aside and bottoms out with one hard thrust.

"Fuck, yes," your voice often doesn't sound like your voice when you're impaled by her cock. You love that monster filling you up.

"So hot, so tight," she starts a fast, neck-breaking pace immediately, "my delicious baby girl," you'll be bruised, and you love it. "I'll make you a pretty mama."

You're waiting for it.

Being on edge and also needy, she comes within the first five minutes.

It doesn't matter that much. She pulls you, pressing your back against her chest. Her still clothed chest, not that you're naked. You need it too much to get naked, you can have proper calm sex later. You moan a little as she keeps an arm around your waist and lifts you, she likes to carry you around without pulling out.

She chuckles at the half-made nest before she climbs on the bed and you're hidden in that safety. Face first on the mattress, but in that safety nonetheless.

"Nesting, honey?"

"I missed you," you clench around her cock, knowing that she likes it, knowing it makes her barely get soft before she's ready to fuck you raw. "I need you to fill me up."

"Present, then, little omega."

You do it as much as you can with her on top of you. It's not hard, she moves with you, not the first time she does this. She moves along and settles at her position, mounting the presenting omega. Her cock is already fully hard again by the time you're as open and submissive as possible.

Her forearms presses against your ears and shoulders, caging you from the world, keeping you in position, making sure you know who you belong to.

Then she pounds you.

Fucks like a machine.

Her cock stretches you open, touches every spot, you don't need to look or touch to know her cock pushes a bulge on your lower belly every time her balls hit you. The bed groans and whines almost as much as you, constantly tested under the potency of your alpha's thrusting potency. She slows down for only a couple of seconds when she cums.

You come when you feel the shorter thrusts.

The knot about to pop thrusts.

"Alpha," it's almost your omega voice. She gasps against your back. "Alpha, knot me, please."

"Of course, can't let this pussy stay so tight for so long."

You almost cum with how rough her voice sounds.

Her thrusts are faster and faster until the knot keeps pressing against your wiping hole. Your back arches, pressing your body hard against her when she pushes the knot into you. The pain is delicious, tearing you apart in the most blissing way possible.

She humps against you and her knot inflates to its non-rut maximum size, moving as much as possible, lubed up with your slick and her loads of cum. You guess it's almost thrice the girth of her cock.

The world is a bright white thing when she bites the back of your neck. Hard enough to cut, you know, she likes tasting you. She says you taste divine when you're losing your mind under her, burning in euphoria with her cock filling you up. Her orgasm almost pushes you over that edge.

Deep inside you, generous, shot after shot, like the whole weeks of orgasms being dumped into you. You know the bulge won't be just her cock in you.

(You know she'll turn to the side, hold you as the knot takes it time to go down, and caress your belly and whisper about seeds taking roots.)

She kisses and bites your shoulder, every little movement of her hips sends shockwaves across your body and she giggles when you shake during another orgasm.

You hate the work trips, you love the aftermath of those.

[ikemenomegas]

Kakashi, Young

Kakashi is quietly panicking on many levels, springing over rooftops, scanning them and the ground below.

Konoha was a big village.

Pakkun was a very, very, small dog.

He'd known that going into the exercise, but Pakkun insisted. An unwilling part of him grudgingly admitted that he was probably owed some of the stubbornness.

It was still a stupid decision to let a seven pound pug try and run on the rooftops.

"It's not like you could have known," Rin pointed out, as though she had read his mind.

She loved the puppies and while he had initially been resistant to it, he was glad to have her around now.

"Bisuke was about the same size when he started training with you, and Pakkun is already faster. I'm sure he's fine."

"If he was fine, he would have already found us," Kakashi replied.

Rin fell silent.

He felt a little bad, but Pakkun had never failed a tracking exercise before. The only thing he could figure was that adding a restriction to rooftop travel alone had resulted in some kind of incident.

"We should split up --"

"No," Rin interrupted. "What if he's still looking for us? Splitting the scents won't help."

She was right, and he sighed.

-- Across the village --

"Are you sure it's this way?"

You'd always suspected part of the reasons the village shinobi stayed on the roofs wasn't just to keep out of the way of civilians.

Confined to the ground yourself and with a little passenger in tow, it was very clear that the two of you were getting lost.

"I'm sure," growled the little pug. "Put me down. I'll find the boss on my own."

You looked skeptically at the bandage you'd wrapped around his back leg and then quickly away when he twisted his ears back.

You looked up into the sky, maybe this "boss" would find you two before you found them. In the mean time, the pug was cute. So cute. Too cute. Especially when he wrinkled his wrinkly little nose and growled at you like that.

"No way," you say, turning in the direction the little pug is still facing. "That leg needs to be treated. Are you sure you don't want me to take you too the hospital instead? Or maybe the Inuzuka compound?"

The puppy's little whine almost breaks your heart. You really wish that you could get up on the roofs too, but walking around with your crutches hoisted over your shoulder so you can carry him is really about all you can do right now.

"Left," he says sulkily, as you trail down yet another narrow street.

"At least put me over your shoulder," he grumbles finally, when your right leg shakes again, protesting the weight placed on it too early.

You pause, admittedly tired, but putting the dog on your shoulder seems a bit unstable.

You put him gently down on top of a barrel and shrug out of your jacket. It's a bit of maneuvering to make it into a serviceable sling but you do actually try to pay attention in the academy's survival classes so it doesn't take that long.

The dog seems much more comfortable in it while you click down the street at a slightly more even keel.

"By the way, what's your name?"

The dog is silent for so long you look down at him. He's swinging his head to-and-fro to catch whatever scent he has you tracking.

"What's yours?" he asks, gruff.

When you give it, he tells you to turn left again.

"I'm Pakkun," he says finally.

"It's nice to meet you, Pakkun."

He just humphs and tells you to turn right.

"Are you sure you're ok--"

The dog, Pakkun you remind yourself, glares at you.

"-kay with the sling?" you quickly tried to cover.

Pakkun grumbled and then told you to pause. "It's fine," he said. "You're in the academy, right? We need to go west."

You dared to stick a hand in the sling to pat Pakkun's back. "That's probably easier than trying to navigate the alleys. Just let me know if you loose the trail."

Pakkun tensed under your hand so you withdrew. Ninken weren't like normal dogs and this dog wasn't like a normal ninken.

"Maybe if we get to a more open area your boss will be able to see us better?"

"Just keep walking," he muttered so you did, making your slow way west. It took you a moment to figure out that the little thump at the edge of your ribs was probably what you'd feel getting hit by a little wagging tail.

Pakkun was right. It was easier to simply head in the right direction without having to decide which exact path was right.

It also so happened that you could head west and south a bit and end up passing the hospital, which is probably where you would look if you ever lost a teeny tiny ninken after he'd tumbled off a roof.

A cold nose touched the tip of your finger as you neared the end of a wood area.

"Wait."

The rest of Pakkun's adorable head followed, his soft puppy fur brushing your wrist.

Kidnapping, erm dognapping, wasn't exactly a crime in the ninja world as long as you didn't get caught and the dog was willing, right? If you told Pakkun how adorable he was maybe he'd let you dognap him just once a month... you and your teammate stole things from one another all the time. It was good training in tracking.

Light as air, a boy with grey hair and a mask landed in front of you, hands in his pockets.

Your eyes widened in surprise and you leaned back a bit on your crutches, stabilizing Pakkun with a hand on his very soft chest when he nearly leaned out of the sling.

The boy glanced at you with a dark, unreadable eyes before looking back down at the dog.

"Hey boss," the pug said, half sheepish, half grumble, but you could feel his curly little tail again.

A second later, a girl with short brown hair landed behind the boy.

"Pakkun!" she exclaimed, "what a relief."

He grunted. "This," he looked up at you, half lidded eyes still skeptical as he said your name, "found me."

This?

The girl came forward, which seemed weird since the dog clearly belonged with the boy, but she was also more patient as you rearranged the crutches and lifted the sling over your head.

"I found him limping, so I bound the leg, but I think he needs a healer."

Pakkun glared at you and you shrugged sheepishly. Just because ninja were trained to hide injuries in the field didn't mean you should hide them among allies.

"Pakkun! You should have gone directly here. What's with the trail we picked up behind the west side scrap iron shop?" The girl scolded, already unwrapping your jacket, her hands burning green.

You blinked in surprise, "You're a healer?"

"Mhm," she said, immediately distracted. You looked up at the boy to see him standing in a way that seemed a guarding position and then stepped back to look at the scene properly.

Both of them had their hitae-ate, so they'd probably seen battle already.

Pakkun had his leg extended as the girl moved her hand around it. Even though you wouldn't exactly be able to fight like you were used to with your leg the way it was, or really needed to in the village, you sharpened your awareness too, paying attention to what was going on around you instead of with her healing, even though you would have preferred to watch.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the boy glance at you and one shoulder sag back into a more relaxed position.

"Okay," the girl stood up, wiping sweat from her brow. She picked Pakkun up with one arm and offered him to the boy, who finally took back the dog with what seemed an intentional lack of expression, and then gave back your jacket.

"Thank you for finding him," she said. "We were getting really worried."

The boy turned his body away in a way you were sure was meant to convey that he was both done with this conversation and had not been worried, but his fingers were already buried in Pakkun's short fur, checking over the girl's work.

"Ka-"

A boy with orange goggles and spiky black hair all but fell from the tree behind you.

You tumbled back, wincing from the noise, although the girl seemed unperturbed.

"Where were you," she immediately changed tack to launch into the familiar chiding tones of someone who had said this exact same thing before. "We already found Pakkun."

The new boy rubbed the back of his head, "I think I followed that weird trail through the alleyways. You know they took three lefts?"

You barely covered a cough of laughter but the ninken's sharp ears, and apparently the grey haired kid's too, picked it up enough for Pakkun to send you another twist-eared look. The boy, you thought, might be similarly embarrassed, although he stood so stiffly he was doing a decent job of hiding it.

The dark haired boy and the girl were standing shoulder to shoulder, the way old friends often did. She glanced once at the other boy and then seemed to somehow resign herself.

"Anyways, thank you," she said with a kind smile. "See you around sometime."

And then they were turning away, bantering back and forth in a familiar rhythm as they took to the trees and were gone.

"I'm want to go through a few of the boxes today, is that okay?"

Kakashi clearly didn't want to leave your still-new home and you didn't want him to go, but he had some sort of clan meeting to go to. And Tsunade had been on your ass about making him.

Unfortunately, this was the kind of thing he couldn't be late for.

He sagged further into his flak jacket collar, which for someone so tall shouldn't make him appear cute but it did.

"It's fine," he murmured, looking around at the scattered boxes of stuff you'd dragged from his home when he'd made it clear that he wanted to start doing something about the mess of his clan's records. He really had let it pile up over the years. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

You grinned, showing just a little too much teeth, "I keep hoping to find some more pictures of you as a kid. I want to have evidence so you'll believe me when I say how adorable you are."

He looked down at the ground and sighed. "Well good luck. There weren't many of those to begin with."

Carefully, so he had time to pull away, you wrapped your arms around him. He didn't return the embrace but he did nuzzle against the scent gland under your jaw and seemed brighter when he straightened up.

"Well I'm off. Have... fun."

There was no intentionally audible sound of his stepping away so you figured he had probably used a shunshin. He had been understandably territorial after the move, taking circuitous routes to get here and back and concealing himself more than usual until the new space had finally started to smell of the two of you again.

You moved toward a promising looking box, Guruko padding through the maze behind you.

It wasn't Kakashi's fault really. A lot of the village's smaller clan records had been made into an absolute chaos when the Kyubi had attacked and fairly interval attempts on the village infrastructure hadn't really slowed down from there. The fact that Kakashi had mostly kept things from his old house packed away in boxes had likely been what kept it from being literally tangled into a hopeless mess.

The box you chose had worn edges, more than some of the others, and you sat down cross legged to slowly sort through the documents.

In a corner, about halfway down, was another smaller box. It was also half-squashed given that it wasn't all the way full, but all that padding had kept the treasure inside near pristine.

You purred to the empty room with delight when your mate's face, younger than even in his genin photo, appeared at the top of the stack.

There were a lot of shinobi in the village and there was a lot of your mate that you would never know because for a long time you hadn't known him. In that way you envied Asuma and Kurenai. Theirs was the kind of romance you'd dreamed of as a kid. They knew everything about one another because they'd lived so much of it.

Kakashi told you things, if you asked, but he was used to keeping his silence, pushing the past as far into the dark as possible, and you didn't often know what to ask about. He preferred to talk about you, but you adored him and wanted to reciprocate that interest.

It made you proud how far he'd come since you first started sharing glances across the room, back when you were the new person being pulled into the orbit of people Kakashi associated with over dango and stories of stupid choices made during promotion tests.

At least one of the photos was obviously an academy school photo, plane background and your mate in an incredibly nerdy little scarf.

A lot of the other photos were later, and equally cutely, of the pack as puppies.

Some of them had clearly been captured by an inexpert hand, the picture blurred with laughter as Kakashi tried not to trip on a very excited young Shiba, and a cute girl, Rin you knew, carefully wrapping Uhei's paw while Pakkun watched.

You frowned at the photo, something tickling the back of your memories.

A few more pictures gave you that same feeling, including a picture of Kakashi and Pakkun alone, looking comically similar with their half-lidded expressions and awkward postures, clearly being forced to try and pose.

You knew Pakkun now of course and it was obviously him, but something about that picture seemed awfully familiar.

Guruko wagged his tail when he asked you to find one of him and you couldn't refuse so together you dug through the box. There were even the dogs' first collars in a sturdier wooden box under a few old papers that looked like academy assignments.

You were still in it, Guruko rolling around and telling you stories about training as pups, when Kakashi came back home.

Kakashi smiled fondly when both you and Guruko immediately rolled upright and went to him.

"Look what I found," you tugged his sleeve in excitement and pulled him to the couch and coffee table where you had carefully place the pictures. "I'm so glad these survived. Look at how little the ninken were. Look at you," you pointed to another slightly shaky picture that showed Bull and Uhei "playing" a game of tug of war where Bull had to do very little to win while Kakashi was clearly laughing in the background.

You didn't miss the slightly sad scent that began to cling to your mate or the way his fingers shook when you handed him the photo.

You leaned shoulder to shoulder and went quiet while he sifted through the pictures. Stored in the box as they had been, they didn't look nearly as old as they clearly were.

"Obito took these," he finally said, softly.

You should have guessed you suppose. There were far fewer pictures with the dark haired boy in it, and of those most were selfie like and cut off part of the person he was with or his own brightly smiling face.

They were youthful photos of a much different time.

You pressed a kiss to the back of your mate's hand and tried to hold onto some of the weight that settled all too easily on his shoulders.

You pressed gently on the scent gland at his wrist when he'd hit the vague edge of the limit you'd sort of agreed on for guilty pining, in the event you found some new memory of his he'd never shared before. You let a whine build in your chest, just enough to let him know you were getting worried, and he slumped over on you, pressing you into the couch with his whole weight.

It was a funny little thing he did that you weren't sure if he had learned from Bull or Bull from him. Usually it meant he was redirecting his stress into literally using his body to protect yours.

For now, you allowed it. You didn't like the implication of value there, but you also knew it soothed your mate in an important way. And he did let you gently tug him so he was more just laying on top of you and he could feel the rumbling purr you were making.

You rubbed circles into his back while he opened his one sharingan and perused the photos again.

When he got to the one that had stopped you before, you finally spoke, keeping your words to a low murmur.

"There's something weirdly familiar about that one, like I've seen it before."

You allowed yourself a little snicker when Kakashi held it up and that expression, which he still made but in a slightly less petulant way that still mirrored Pakkun's more committed sulks, came back into full view.

Your mate's mask had slipped as he sometimes rubbed his face against the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you could feel the tired quirk of his smile against your skin, the way he huffed a faint laugh.

He even gifted you with a little purr when you tugged your fingers through his thick, soft hair.

"He does still make that face."

You snorted and felt like the sun had lit up your chest when Kakashi chuckled.

Kakashi would have happily fallen into a doze like this, but neither of you were in the particular habit of napping, unfortunately. There were dogs to feed and yourself to feed, clothing to unpack, bedding to air out.

He swiped the photos off the table and back into their box, to be stowed away for now, but a few days later he gifted you the one of him and Pakkun in a new protective frame.

The others ninken of course saw it and slowly, gently, demanded that Kakashi find some of them too, claiming that the captain couldn't be the only one with a photo around the house.

Pakkun gave you a weird look when he caught sight of your staring at the photo one day, grinning to yourself and pushing away again that feeling like you were missing some detail in looking at it.

It hit you a week or so later when you were alone again, trying not to fret about your mate being out on what should be a relatively safe information retrieval mission. Others were busy and he'd wanted to go out for a while, so he'd gone and left Pakkun with you.

This reassured you he didn't think the mission would be that tough, but it also had the downside of having the little pug's judgemental little face watching you find things to do to distract yourself after your own work was already done for the day.

"What?" you finally asked him, after trying and failing to read a book. "You've been staring at me for days. Is there something I should know?"

"Do you really not remember?" Pakkun asked, skeptical and gruff.

You frowned and looked where he did, at the shelf where the photo was leaning.

"I--"

"I never forget a scent," Pakkun said somewhat haughtily.

You had all but memorized the picture yourself by now. Pakkun's wrinkled baby face. "No way."

One of his adorable little eyebrows raised.

You looked back at the photo.

"It was his decision start courting you-"

You amusedly decided not to bring up the reality which was less like courting and more like the local tomcat adopting you via a series of birds brought to your door.

"-so we didn't say anything, but I told them all you remembered."

"I've met you before!"

Pakkun's adorable little tail was starting to wag.

"But I don't remember where."

He slumped into a sulk.

"Sorry," you said, patting his head in apology and going into the kitchen to get him some ham.

"Hmph." He followed you anyways, toenails clicking on the wooden floor.

"It was a long time ago though. Maybe it'll come back to me."

He leapt onto the counter and grumbled some kind of vague agreement, taking the meat delicately from your fingers.

You leaned against the counter while he ate, looking around the apartment. Kakashi's discomfort was shared. Your mate could be away for days or weeks at a time when things were busy or something bad came to the mission desk.

Having a space you owned, that wouldn't be subject to change every few years, somewhere for him to come back to, had seemed like the right call.

It was the right call, you reminded yourself firmly. Both of you needed some kind of stability, if only to help Kakashi start to unravel years and years of avoiding a majority of physical and emotional attachments.

But the time it was taking to really make the apartment feel like home could be frustrating. You missed having Kakashi's scent just being around as a consequence of his frequent presence.

"Don't worry too much," Pakkun said, gnawing on the little bone in the center of the ham. "The Boss will be back before you know it."

Boss. Hmm.

You shook your head, "I suppose finally putting together some of the cabinets will make it easier to put things away. Want to learn how to use a hammer?"

Pakkun licked his lips and looked up at you. His steps were so light you almost couldn't feel them when he sprang up to drape on your shoulder.

"You know dogs don't have thumbs right?"

"That hasn't stopped you before."

Pakkun just huffed ham-scented breath into your face as you went into the bedroom.

[solarlotus]

Obi-Wan with post-partum depression and Anakin just trying his best™! ❤️

I nearly didn't do this as so close to home. This is really a bit autobiographical. If you're suffering post natal depression please see your doctor and talk to someone. It will pass, all things do.

TW: mpreg mentioned, omega verse, talk of low mood

In a verse where Cal- Ketis is Obi Wan's son.

It had been months since Obi Wan had been himself. Cal-Ket was thriving, a good baby who never really cried, was sleeping better than most and was universally admired. Obi Wan was glowing in Anakin's opinion. Despite the early few weeks of sleeplessnss and a long labour Obi Wan was doing well.

Except he wasn't.

He fretted about leaving little Cal with anyone except Anakin's mother. Fretted about returning to duties, especially as the Jedi were not known for their child friendly policies. He fretted about his figure, comparing himself to other omegas, petite creatures like Padme who were dainty and lithe, like omegas should be.

Anakin told Obi Wan he looked good, he squeezed his tits and ass, told him he was sexy. But this didn't seem to help, Obi Wan still looked sadly at himself in the mirror, held his baby close and avoided social occasions.

It came to a head after a routine visit to Padme's office, Obi Wan came home, fed Cal then threw himself on the bed, staring at the wall.

'What is it?' Anakin asked, placing a cup of tea on the bedside table. 'Please, Obi.'

'I just can't do it! She's so pretty and tiny, I feel so crap, I'm not even any good at being a Jedi anymore, the house is a tip, the Jedi just seen me as a parent and nobody looks at me like they want me anymore, I didn't even realise they did until they stoppped. Stars, I sound vain and ridiculous.' He swiped a tear from his face and turned away as Anakin stroked his shoulder.

'I don't want Padme, I don't know why you keep going on about her. She's too small, I want you. You're lovely and sexy and so so good at everything. Cal is perfect, because of you.' Anakin scooped Obi Wan into his arms. 'You have to stop watching those parenting holos, those omegas have all had weird surgery and have nannies raising their kids.'

Obi Wan sniffed on Anakin's shoulder. 'Let's go for dinner, just us, mom will look after Cal and I think you should take longer leave from duties. You don't need to do everything, the Jedi will still be there when Cal is older.'

Obi Wan nodded. 'I think I'll take instahol off my datapad.'

'Good.' Anakin kissed Obi Wan's forehead. 'You're my omega, my precious Obi Wan. All things pass, Obi, you told me that once.'

'I love you, dear one,' Obi Wan whispered as Anakin embraced him.

'I know.'

[augment-techs]

For the a/b/o prompt list

#23 “but your heats are so intense I need backup” for Sharkie Bulk and Skull or Matt Billy and Skull or Matt Sharkie and Skull (in the fact you always give Skull intense heats and I’m curious about how that would look with poly for him)

In the beginning, Skull didn't have anyone to help him out with the whole curse of being a Sigma thing. He was poor, he was scrawny, he wasn't pretty to look at, and when he went into heat he developed a nasty temper that caused the school to order a temporary ban from school property until his week was up.

He was twelve when he hit puberty; Billy out of his life, Bulk only just nosing around to get to know him, same as a girl in their grade by the name of Angela that would later go by the moniker Sharkie once they hit high school and her own second presentation hit (and with it the need to seem tougher than the average Beta)--and there was no way he was going to be comforted by his Sigma brother, having his own problems with his monthlies and often wandering off to the Reservation on the edge of town, or his Sigma mother meandering across the states in search of someone to fill the void after the boys' douchebag father dumped them for new snapper.

So, he pretended to be Billy just for long enough to go to the library, track down every piece of information they had on Sigmas, and planning ahead accordingly.

Which was a good idea at the time, but slowly devolved into working through his heats in desperation and agony, because being a Sigma, from every corner of the globe and universally this was agreed, fucking sucked.

He started sweating up to a full day before his hormones shifted, which made his smell turn into something unbearable to other people, which meant he had to buy a special deodorant or just not go to school the closer he got to the heats. All the sweating leads to dehydrating quickly and he always had a migraine going on before the shift, so after he reached six feet tall he was also a lot more intimidating while he was cranky and desperate.

Energy runs through him more than any other moment in his life except when there's a monster from the moon breathing down his neck or a Megazord a block behind him while he and Bulk are still on the ground, so he can't help but twitch and fidget and chew gum like if he doesn't his head will explode.

When his mind starts going, Bulk or Sharkie take him out to the middle of nowhere--like, really, no people just coyotes or deer--and makes sure he'd had about three bottles of water and at least a couple sandwiches in him. Then they bite the bullet, find a way to make Skull angry, and then hop in the truck and starts leading Skull on a merry chase.

This lasts a day or so until Skull can't run anymore and the pain replaces the anger.

That and the secreting mucus from his genitals kicks in.

What a joy that was the first time it happened. A proper Omega would at least have the dignity of getting to wear a cup internally to head off embarrassment at the pass, but they didn't make anything like that for Sigma's. Hell, they didn't even make much in the way of birth control for Sigma's that didn't involve injections or implants.

He'd ruined a perfectly good pair of jeans, soaked through with what felt to the touch like the slippery texture of a frog, smelling of egg yolk and salt.

And the feeling of the clothing had hurt so much on contact with his skin during this, Skull's knees had buckled while chasing Bulk in his truck before he'd wrangled his belt off and tried to fumble his way into getting the jeans off with fingers that were shaking so hard it was amazing he gripped anything at all.

He usually blacked out like a drunk at that feeling, barely picking up on anything that happened to him after, save for being tucked into a bed with toys and water and what might have been his screaming until his heat passed and he hobbled his way down the stairs of his house in a ratty bathrobe to find Bulk and Sharkie with bruises along their arms, passed out on the sofa looking as bad as Skull felt.

He always cooked them a meal as a 'thank you for dealing with me' and always apologized until they told him to shut up, because he couldn't help it and they were his friends.

[jhalya]

😏 Halbrand has been waiting for this moment.

🤯Fake dating, escort!Halbrand, bisexual Halbrand, scent of a/b/o, bit of secret identities and closeted kink!Celeborn. I mean, how many tropes can I fit into this prompt???

🎁 And it's all @formerlyir fault for inspiring this!

Also on AO3

[beatleskinkmeme]

Hi! Sorry I can't link to it because of anon messaging settings, but I just posted a fill (for the Paul/Robert alpha!Robert, omega!Paul prompt) to the collection on ao3. Thanks so much again for running the kink meme!

Fic: Do No Disturb

Fill for this prompt: Alpha!Robert/omega!Paul. Maybe it’s a secret and no one suspects because Robert’s known to prefer being fucked and Paul fucks a lot of women, but Paul and Robert are mated and Robert discovers he really loves fucking Paul. Maybe those trips to Paris also coincide with Paul’s heats?

Read on a03

[kangaracha]

this is probably too river cold but future wyaddison and pack attack? (lol that rhymes also is this spoilers for the slowburn idk)

She dances in the moonlight, his angel of death, and around her all the dominos start to fall.

The light doesn’t seem to shine anywhere else. The mountains around them are dark, the trees felled, the other wolves a single, writhing mass that covers the muddy ground, unrecognisable as sole entities until they fall unmoving beneath the other’s feet, staring at the sky. Alone she stands in the centre of their chaos, and from her stillness erupts into the night, coating her hands in blood as it spreads and spreads.

It is terrifying. It is mesmerising. He can’t look away.

The first day that he saw her, she’d been lost in the forest – she’d stood in the centre of the old riverbed, dressed in soft pink and scared eyes, cowering under the sound of his sister calling to the pack. The Great Alpha, they’d whispered to each other as she’d run back to the town she came from, unaware of the destiny that called to her, the wheels that had started turning the moment she stepped into the shadow of the trees. She’d been just a girl in a very small world, and he’d been just a wolf hiding on the edge of it, unaware of what it meant to begin a prophecy that has been waiting centuries to unfold.

Neither of them are those people anymore, least of all her. Now she stands unafraid in the night, her eyes lit with the exhilaration of the fight as their enemies flee from her sight, and he can do nothing but watch in awe as she does.

“I love you,” he breathes, and as if summoned, her eyes shift to him, far across the battlefield.

[im-his-druidess]

Okay but Bo Sinclair and this prompt

“As an Alpha, I have the right to claim you, the Omega, and you know that, don’t you” whispered in the omegas ear in his sexy Louisiana drawl with his smug dominating smirk brushing against her skin

After he’s scented the omega tourist and chased her down after the rest of the tourist have already been killed/taken by Vincent 🥵😈

This is the good stuff, Nonnie 😩👌

“I know you’re in here,” a voice called out, playful with a singsong lilt, and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the smooth southern drawl of the man chasing you so close to where you were crouched.

You thought you had lost him, but apparently, he had stayed right on your tail giving you no chance to even think of a way out, let alone catch your breath. Your friends had been mowed down one by one leaving you the last one standing, their screams and pleads of mercy that went unanswered still ringing in your ears, and you curled in tighter to yourself behind the shelf of the cluttered storage shed you were hiding in.

“I can smell you,” the man continued with a rumbling purr and you felt your already thundering heart skip a beat.

The man was an Alpha in every sense of the word and you knew he was speaking the truth. At the gas station, before everything went to hell in a handbasket, the friendly mechanic wasn’t subtle about sniffing out your designation. Looking pleased with himself when his eyes bore into you when he finally caught a whiff of your naturally sweet Omega scent.

‘Omega,’ he had murmured just low enough for you to hear and you were so shocked by the rude acknowledgement that you could only gape at him.

It was considered downright insulting for Alphas to call out Omegas, even though everyone knew that the scent of an Omega was as obvious as the sky was blue to Alphas, but he had just grinned slow and honey-sweet and predatory when you spun on your heels to march out to join your friends when you couldn’t think of a response. Then once the attacks started the only thing you could think of was your survival.

“Not often we get Omegas in these parts. I could smell you a mile away, darlin’” the man, ‘Bo’ you remembered grimly, said and you forced yourself not to flinch at how close his voice had gotten.

“Such a pretty little thing you are…why don’t you come on out, now? You know this is inevitable,” he growled out and panic seized your body and stole the air right from your lungs.

Your inner Omega was preening at the thought of this virile Alpha hunting you down to claim you and you wanted to bang your head on the closest wall at those barbaric instincts. You suddenly realized that the room had become eerily silent, no more footsteps or taunting remarks, and you strained to hear over the sound of blood pounding in your ears.

Sweat beaded on your forehead and dripped off your nose, the humid air sticking in your lungs and covering you in an oppressive blanket of heat, and you tried to breathe as quietly as possible. You pressed your raw bloody palms tight against your thighs, bits of loose gravel still embedded in the stinging flesh from where you tripped over one of your friend’s limp lifeless bodies on the road, and just the feeling made bile rise up the back of your throat. If you survived this night you knew that you would forever be haunted by what you have witnessed. You wanted to peak out from under the shelf to see if the coast was clear, but terror had you frozen in fear. You sniffed the air as quietly and subtly as you could, the scent of mold and dust and your own fear filled your nose, and you desperately tried to push past that to scent out the Alpha. Eventually your nosed twitched when you caught the smell of dark exotic spices, the tell-tale scent of an Alpha, smoke, and gunpowder.

You realized a second too late that the smell was suspiciously close.

A large hand gripped your bicep and you were dragged from under the shelf before you had a chance to scream.

“Gotcha!” Bo cooed and you shrieked as you began clawing at him and trying to yank yourself free with the desperation of a cornered feral animal.

However, his grip was like an iron shackle, and you felt tears burns your eyes as he dragged you closer to his broad body. Bright blue eyes stared down at you with triumph, a lopsided cruel smirk twisting his lips and making the corner of his eyes crinkle, and you felt his laugh more than you heard it. His free hand tangled roughly in your hair close to your roots and you could only yelp in pain as he roughly yanked your head to the side. He then pressed his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply. A groan rumbling deep in his chest before you suddenly felt something hot and wet drag over your fluttering pulse.

The son of a bitch licked you.

You screamed again, this time in outrage, and renewed your struggle. The hand on your bicep moved to your waist and you were crushed even harder against his chest, effectively pinning your hands against his chest, and you wheezed at the pressure compressing your lungs. He licked you again and you released a small sob.

“Please…please don’t,” you pleaded and felt him nuzzle against your shoulder and throat. Rubbing against the sensitive scent glands. He was scenting you.

He hummed softly as if thinking over your words, but any hope of him setting you free died when he shifted and you felt something hard poking into your stomach.

“You can’t do this,” you gritted out passed the lump of fear and anxiety in your throat and he laughed.

“As an Alpha, I have the right to claim you, the Omega, and you know that, don’t you” he whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple that would have been considered sweet under any other circumstance, and you wailed at his words.

“Don’t be like that, darlin’. I’ll treat you real good. Keep you here to look after the house, keep you warm and fed, and keep this sweet pussy of yours nice and full,” he said with a small groan and you felt fresh tears spill down your cheeks at the reality of your situation.

You shook your head frantically, words unable to leave your mouth and your throat seeming to close in on itself, and he pulled back to look down at you. He smiled and nodded his head while moving to smooth your hair from your damp face.

“Yeah, I’ll treat you real nice…and you’re gonna be nice to me, too, aren’t you?” he murmured gently as those piercing blue eyes swept over your face with barely concealed hunger.

He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head.

“If you’re nice enough I’ll even make sure Vincent doesn’t get his hands on you. He’s not used to Omegas being around so he might wanna go at you,” he continued in that same soft tone and nausea rolled through you at his implication.

The memory of that longhaired Alpha cutting down your friends and dragging them through the street was still fresh in the forefront of your mind and you began openly weeping. Bo shushed you as your legs gave wave under the force of your emotions and he tucked his face back into the crook of your neck. You barely resisted when you felt him slowly walking you backwards until your back met the wall and your chest began heaving with your sobs as he slowly rolled his hips against you. You weakly pushed against his chest and felt his teeth nipping at your throat, right where a claiming bite would go, and dark spots began flickering across your eyes as it became harder and harder to breathe. You felt him smile once more against you.

“Welcome to Ambrose.”

[witchywithwhiskey]

the alpha next door

pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader

summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!

When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were. 

The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved. 

But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…

Still, you were his neighbor and Steve couldn’t avoid you entirely, even though everything he saw only reaffirmed his belief that you were too good for him. 

The little pink cottage beside his house had come with a front garden filled with pink roses and all manner of other pink flowers that Steve couldn’t even begin to name, but you tended to them like you’d planted them yourself. Steve would get home from work, park his truck in his driveway—which had a perfect view of your front garden. He’d watch you from behind his tinted windows as you took care of your flowers, looking like a garden fairy come to life.

When Steve eventually grew uncomfortable with how long he’d been watching you, he would get out of his truck and call a gruff hello to you as he made his way inside. Your melodic voice returning his greeting would follow him into his house, where he’d close his door and lean against it, panting like he’d just escaped a warzone while his cock strained against his jeans. But Steve wouldn’t stoop to jerking himself off to the thought of you—at least not while you were just outside. 

On weekends, Steve would work in his backyard, mowing the grass and tending to the shrubs that ran along the line separating his property from yours. When the weather was nice and pleasantly warm, you would sit out on your small back porch, curled up in a wicker chair reading some book or another.

Steve would offer to mow your lawn, just for an excuse to stay outside longer, and be a little bit closer to you. You’d let him, and thank him for his efforts by giving him some ice cold lemonade, smiling up at him while he drank it. Steve wasn’t the least bit surprised the lemonade was more sweet than tart. 

As the weeks and months passed since you’d moved in, Steve couldn’t help but feel his desire for you growing, becoming a living thing curling around his heart, making it beat for you. You were the sweetest and prettiest omega he’d ever met, and he’d be lucky to be your alpha, but he kept his distance, certain you could do better than him.

That is, until your first heat after moving in next door changed everything.

That was when Steve learned you were far more than the innocent little omega he’d determined you to be—you were a creature of sex and desire, made to take an alpha’s knot and be pumped full of come in the hopes that their seed would take root in your womb. When your heat hit fully, your keening wails echoed from your cottage, and they were a siren song that called directly to Steve’s alpha heart.

But he kept himself away. After all, there were polite ways of going about these things, and he’d never even asked you out on a date, so he certainly wasn’t going to assume you wanted his help to get you through your heat. Besides, you hadn’t asked for him to join you, anyway.

That didn’t stop Steve from keeping an eye on you, though.

He’d noticed the slight change in your scent a few days before your heat truly set in, his cock reacting even more to your perfect omega body than normal. Steve felt like he was walking around with a constant bulge in his pants after getting a single whiff of your scent, but he ignored the niggling feeling telling him he needed to be close to you and did his best to hide his reaction. He knew you had other things to worry about than the comfort of the alpha next door. 

Even though something in him compelled him to go to you, Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk over to your cottage. It occurred to him that even if you didn’t want him to help you through your heat, he could offer to go to the store to get the food and provisions you’d need. But he didn’t. He was worried about what he’d do if he looked into your home and saw your nest and smelled your sweet perfume. 

So Steve kept his distance, watching you from his truck and the windows of his house as you brought home a week’s worth of provisions—protein bars and sports drinks that would keep you nourished enough to make it through your heat. Steve wished he could carry the heavy-looking bags into your home, but his cock was pitching a tent in his sweatpants, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the way his alpha body reacted to your omega scent. 

Finally, as your heat drew closer, you locked up your cottage, closing all the windows and drawing all the curtains. Steve couldn’t help but notice, though, that you left the skylight in your bedroom cracked open a tiny bit. Steve’s alpha hindbrain itched at the thought that you’d only left it open because you couldn’t close it yourself, and he had to hold himself back from going over to your cottage to offer to close it.

Steve knew omegas liked to keep their nests dark and warm and locked up tight. They wanted to keep all the scents created during a heat trapped in their nest, at least until their heat broke. So it was curious that you’d left the skylight open, even a little bit. 

But when your heat hit in earnest that evening, your pitiful whimpers and desperate moans filtering through the open window and directly to Steve’s ears—through the window of his bedroom that he’d thrown open the moment he’d heard you—he forgot about what omegas typically wanted. Instead, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life. 

Steve stood at the window of his bedroom, which overlooked your cottage, his eyes glazing over as he listened to you pant and whine and cry out for an alpha that wasn’t coming. Because of course Steve had noticed that no alpha had arrived to help you through your heat. He assumed you were using any number of the toys that were sold precisely to help unmated omegas get through their heats without an alpha’s help. 

But it meant you were alone, in your nest, riding out your heat on some silicone knot. That thought nearly made Steve storm from his house and barge into your cottage to demand you let him help you, but he reminded himself you were too sweet, too sweet, too sweet for him. So instead, he fisted his cock and listened to your raspy pleas fill the night sky.

“Need your knot, alpha, oh god, please,” you babbled, your voice beautifully melodic to Steve even when you were desperately begging for something he knew he shouldn’t give you. “Fill me up, daddy, I need it—need your knot, alpha—daddy, daddy, alpha, please, please, please!” Your moans grew louder and Steve could only imagine the thick silicone knot that was filling you up the way he should be filling you.

One of Steve’s hands gripped the frame of his window tightly, using the feel of the wood digging into his palm to keep himself grounded as he physically fought with his alpha instincts. He wanted to break into your cottage and rip your toys away from you so he could help you through your heat. Like he was meant to. It should be him inside you, sinking into your warm, welcoming cunt while you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

Steve’s other hand gripped his cock, pumping his hard, stiff length with a fist so tight, it was nearly punishing. It helped a little, but his fist was a far cry from your perfect cunt, which would be gushing with wetness and so hot, Steve would feel like he was sinking into heaven and hell at the same time. And when he came, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as emptying his balls right against your cervix, pumping your womb full of his seed while knot locked your bodies together so it would be almost certain he’d knock you up. 

That is, if you weren’t on birth control. Which most unmated omegas were, Steve reminded himself.

Still, the alpha in him was a beast barely caged—he wanted to breed you. 

Steve wanted to see you impaled on his cock and his knot, so bloated from how full you were with his come that he could see it in the way your belly bulged, giving a preview of what you’d look like growing with his child. He wanted to knock you up, he wanted to see you swollen and round with his pup. 

He wanted to keep fucking you even as you carried his child, watching you bounce on his knot, your tits swollen with milk and your belly big and round while he tried to fill your womb with another before you’d even popped out the first. Steve wanted to keep you pregnant all the time, your pretty little omega body always ripe and swollen with his pups, taking his knot and his come every moment of the day so he could make sure you were always glowing with the radiance of motherhood.

It was that image of you—beautiful and knocked up, your eyes hazy with pleasure that came only from being impaled on his cock, and being locked on his knot—that made Steve come. 

He grunted as the pleasure of his fist and his thoughts of you finally became too much, wrapping both his hands around his thick length, one squeezing his knot while the other pumped the rest of his shaft. His come erupted from the tip, streaming over the windowsill and dripping down to his bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom.

A growl tore from Steve’s lips while he came, a deep, dark part of his alpha hindbrain responding furiously to the fact that he was wasting his seed. He should be emptying his balls deep in your fertile cunt while your slick walls gripped his knot and milked every drop of his seed into your womb, where it belonged. 

Steve’s release seemed to last for ages, longer than he’d ever experienced before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his head finally started to clear when it abated, he would’ve been worried he’d gone into rut. But finally, Steve surfaced from the depths of his pleasure, and winced when he remembered the thoughts that had made him come.

Steve was appalled by the direction in which his imagination had gone, and felt guilty for imagining you in such a state as pregnant and bouncing on his cock—even as the reminder made his cock leak one last spurt of his release. Cursing and castigating himself, Steve moved away from the window to clean himself up and wipe down the spot where he’d been standing. 

The entire time he was cleaning up after himself, Steve felt off-balance. He’d never felt such a pull toward an omega before you, and he’d never been so close to going into rut just from listening to an omega whimper and moan. If he didn’t know better, he would think you were his mate—the one omega in the whole world who was perfect for him. 

But Steve pushed that thought aside and reminded himself you were too sweet for an alpha like him. You might’ve sounded desperate and needy while you suffered through your heat alone, but you deserved better than an alpha who could think of nothing else besides pumping you full of come and knocking you up with his child.

Steve felt disturbed all over again when he thought of the vivid, obscene things he’d imagined while he’d jerked himself off. He’d never been the type of alpha to get off on the idea of breeding, let alone pictured anyone swollen with his kid while they were impaled on his cock. Steve felt so far out of his depth, he swiped his clean hand down his face to try to regain the equilibrium that had been shattered by your pretty omega sounds.

Thankfully, you’d gone blessedly quiet at some point when Steve had been coming all over his windowsill. He tossed the rag he’d used to clean up his mess into the laundry and flopped down on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. It was a good thing he’d called out of work on heat leave.

Even as Steve lay in his bed, the refrain that you were too sweet for him repeating in his mind, he couldn’t help hoping that you were getting some much-needed rest. He’d never been one to worry over much about whether someone was sleeping or eating, but he wondered if you’d had a protein bar and drank a sports drink before falling asleep. He knew you needed to keep up your strength if you’d make it through your heat. 

His thoughts spinning around in his mind, Steve fell into a light, fitful sleep, his alpha hindbrain remaining alert and attuned to the sounds coming from your cottage. Little did he know, it wouldn’t be long before everything would change. Something would happen that would force Steve to finally give in to the connection between him and the omega next door.

When you woke on the second morning of your heat, it was to a burning need cutting through your core, urging you to roll onto your knees and sink down on the silicone knot toy that had slipped from your pussy while you slept. Unbidden, the face of the alpha next door, Steve Rogers, popped into your mind and you sobbed through another wave of aching desire, wishing desperately that he was with you to help you through your heat.

You hadn’t met the alpha until after you’d moved into the little pink cottage next door to his much larger home, and you were instantly smitten with the former soldier. He was big—so much bigger than you—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that were barely hidden beneath the tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear. But it was Steve’s thighs that were always so distracting to you, so thick they made you want to ride them until your slick was drenching his jeans.

A pitiful moan fell from your lips as you reached between your thighs, grasping blindly for the toy you’d discarded in your sleep. With your face still shoved into a pillow and sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness, you slid down on the thick silicone cock, pretending it belonged to Steve. 

The alpha next door was just so…sweet. 

It hadn’t taken you long after moving into your cottage to learn your neighbor’s schedule, and you made sure to always be working in the garden in front of your home when he got back from work. You lived for the growly greetings he would call to you, and the faint blush that would graze his cheekbones, like he was shy around you, his harmless omega neighbor. 

And on the weekends, when you knew Steve wasn’t working, you sat on your back porch reading—though you were more often ogling the fit alpha’s shoulders and arms as he worked in his backyard. The sun would shine on Steve’s blond hair and make him look like a golden god, with sparkling blue eyes that would occasionally flick in your direction, though you didn’t think he was really looking at you.

Of course, when he’d offer to mow your lawn, you’d let him. Then, to show the alpha your thanks, you’d make him some nice refreshing lemonade. If that meant you could watch him quench his thirst while you imagined his sweet mouth on your body, drinking your slick as eagerly as he drank your lemonade, then that was just a bonus to being a good neighbor. Right?

It had become abundantly clear to you that you harbored a crush on Steve, and it was nearly excruciating living next to him when he didn’t seem interested in making a move on his omega neighbor. After all, it had been months, and he’d been nothing but friendly and respectful and sweet. 

It was obvious, at least to you, that Steve was too sweet for you—too sweet to be the rough, dominant alpha you craved. Too sweet to bend you over and impale you on his thick cock with one stroke. Too sweet to shove his knot into your cunt and make you come so hard you saw stars. Too sweet to knock you up over and over again, filling up that big house of his with pups that you’d created together. 

You’d told yourself it was for the best that Steve kept his distance. If he couldn’t be what you needed, then you didn’t want your crush to develop into unrequited feelings. But your heart didn’t listen, so you kept putting yourself in situations where you’d get to see your neighbor—working in your front garden when he got home, sitting on your back porch while he was in his backyard. 

Then, you began to feel your heat coming on, and your thoughts about the alpha next door only worsened. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for unmated omegas to ask alpha friends or acquaintances to help them through their heats, but the prospect of asking Steve for his help, getting to come all over his knot for days on end, and then trying to go back to the way things were sounded torturous. 

Instead, you went about your heat preparations as you always did, gathering supplies from the grocery store and stocking up the minifridge in your bedroom with sports drinks while you piled your bedside table high with protein bars. You closed and locked all the doors and windows of your cottage, drawing the curtains tight to keep out the sun. 

You knew you were a bit of an odd omega, and you didn’t like total darkness in your nest, which was why you had been the only one interested in the little cottage. It had a skylight in the bedroom that any other omega would want closed and covered during their heat. The window itself was covered in a film that dampened most of the direct  sunlight and you enjoyed the natural light, even when you were deep in your heat, so it was perfect for you.

It occurred to you, as you were preparing your room, that if you cracked open the skylight, the sounds you made during your heat would filter out from your cottage. Your desperate cries for a knot might even be heard by the alpha next door…

Later, you’d blame your decision to leave the skylight open on the dangerous combination of your pre-heat brain and the exquisite agony of your crush on Steve. But by that time, the little decision you’d made in the urgency of your heat preparations would’ve irrevocably changed your life—for the better—and you wouldn’t give a thought to regretting what you’d done.

Still, on that second morning of your heat, when you were woken by the need to be knotted and flooded with come, you didn’t even remember that you’d decided to leave the skylight open. So you had no idea whether it was working or not, whether Steve could hear you—but he wasn’t far from your thoughts as you rode your silicone alpha toy, trying to slake the need that burned through your body. 

Your heats were always a little hazy, like most omega’s, with desire and need pounding through your blood so insistently, you couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Your mind could only focus on getting a cock inside you, then a knot and, if you’d had an alpha to help you, the gush of their come. Since you were so mindless, you uttered words that you’d forgotten the second they fell from your lips.

The first night of your heat, when you’d had a moment of clear-headedness enough to gulp down a sports drink and scarf a protein bar, you’d hoped you hadn’t cried out anything that would embarrass you—like Steve’s name. You’d had a vague memory of calling out for an alpha, which was normal for an unmated omega, and a daddy, which was normal for you, given your desires when you weren’t going through your heat. But you’d breathed a sigh of relief when you didn’t remember calling out for Steve specifically. 

You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you cried out Steve’s name while in heat. But you were about to find out.

The silicone toy in your cunt wasn’t cutting it. It had been just fine that first night, though you hadn’t felt as satisfied as you normally did, and you hadn’t slept as long as you typically did in between waves of your heat. Something about this heat felt different. You weren’t just desperate for an alpha’s knot and come, you wanted more…

You wanted a pup. You wanted an alpha’s cock shoved deep in your cunt, unloading their come against your cervix, filling your womb with a seed that would take and knock you up. You wanted to be bred—and not just by any alpha. You wanted the alpha next door to breed you.

Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve. 

“Please,” you gasped, the word leaving your lips as you thought of your big, sweet alpha neighbor. His face came easily to your mind, those sparkling blue eyes and soft lips, that strong jaw and the way a blush turned his cheeks the most perfect shade of pink. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need your come,” you whined, speaking to the image of Steve in your mind.

You pushed yourself up onto your knees, grabbing one of the many pillows from your bed and shoving it between your thighs, forcing the silicone alpha cock deeper into your cunt. Still, it wasn’t enough, even as you tried to make due. 

You rocked your hips, trying to replicate the feeling of fucking yourself on an alpha’s cock, but it paled in comparison. A desperate whine worked its way up your throat, filling your room and slipping from the skylight into the morning air.

“Please, daddy, wanna have your baby,” you cried, your hands going to your tits and tugging on your nipples so roughly, pleasure and pain swirled through your body, creating a tornado of sensation that only fed the need burning in your core. “Wan’ you to knock me up, alpha, wanna give you pups, wan’ you to suck on my milky tits while you fuck me, daddy.” You groped your breasts, pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself, the sensations making your cunt gush slick all over the toy inside you. 

The pleasure was gathering in your core, making you more desperate to reach the pinnacle of your climax. Your hips worked, humping the pillow and cock between your thighs, shoving yourself down against the knot at the base of the toy, knowing it was what you needed to come, but your pussy was still too tight to take it. 

“Oh god, I need it, alpha, I need it, I need it,” you babbled mindlessly, fucking yourself furiously on the toy and still wishing it was Steve’s cock. 

You pictured him beneath you, his cheeks tinged pink, not with a blush, but with the flush of his desire for you, his blue eyes nearly black from his pupils blowing wide as he stared up at you. His soft mouth parted as he groaned, his thick cock buried in your tight cunt, twitching as you squeezed him.

It was with that image in your mind that the fateful words spilled from your lips. You cried out desperately, “Knock me up, daddy, gimme your pup, please—please, breed me, Steve!” 

So close to the edge of your release, you barely heard the distant crashing sound that echoed between your little cottage and the house that belonged to the alpha next door. All you heard were your gasping breaths and mindless moans, the toy shoving into your cunt making low squelching noises that only managed to turn you on more. 

It was only when a much closer smashing sound preceded the swirl of cool morning air infiltrating your home, and flooding into your nest, that you were able to drag your attention away from your own desperate frustration. Your omega instincts were going haywire, part of you telling you something was wrong, while another part unfurled and shifted, like a flower blooming toward the sun. 

Blinking your eyes to clear away the haze of your heat, your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at the sight of the alpha in your bedroom doorway. 

Steve’s big body filled the doorway, his hands clutching the wooden frame while his chest heaved with heavy breaths. It looked like he was trying to hold himself back, his grip so tight on your doorframe that a distant part of your mind worried it might splinter beneath his palms. But you couldn’t think too closely about that, not when your neighbor was staring at you with a crazed look in his eyes, like he wanted to fill you with his knot as badly as you wanted to be filled.

Your too sweet alpha neighbor’s mouth—which was normally curved in a soft, friendly smile—was twisted with ferocious lust, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough growl like nothing you’d ever heard from Steve. 

“Invite me into your bed,” he rumbled, the order clear in his voice even if he didn’t use his alpha command. “Ask me to help you through your heat, tell me you want me here,” he went on through clenched teeth, an edge of desperation in his tone that called your heart—and your cunt. “Tell me you want me, omega.” His fingers gripped the doorframe tighter, and you heard the wood creak beneath his strength. 

Your pussy spasmed and your heart lurched when Steve called you by your designation, but it was when his scent hit you that you felt something inside your being shift and lock into place. Steve smelled like home—like safety and security and love. He smelled like a future of wrangling children together and making love together and sitting on a porch swing together and growing old together. 

In that moment, you knew what your instincts had known from the moment you met Steve—he was your mate. He was the one alpha in all the world who was meant for you, just as you were the omega meant for him. And once you knew that, it was the easiest thing in the world to part your lips and beg him to join you in your nest, in your bed, and help you through your heat.

“Please, Steve—please, mate, please help me,” you begged, your voice breathy with need and excitement, tears of joy shining in your eyes. 

Something shifted in Steve’s expression when you called him your mate. You watched as he took a deep breath, scenting you the way you had him. A riot of emotions swirled in those beautiful blue eyes of his—disbelief, acknowledgement, acceptance, satisfaction, pride. You saw the moment he realized what you’d only just discovered, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

“My omega, my mate,” Steve growled, finally letting go of the doorframe and launching himself at you.

Finally—finally—Steve was coming to you, closing the distance between you, and you’d never been happier in all your life. The alpha next door was your mate, and you hoped that meant he would be more than willing to knock you up and breed you like you needed.

Steve had woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of your sweet cries that morning, though they sounded much more desperate to his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but you sounded less than satisfied with whatever toy you were using and Steve slid a hand down to his already hard cock, thinking you should’ve been riding him instead of some silicone dick.

He’d lazily stroked his cock, trying to restrain himself from coming all over his stomach, while listening to your increasingly desperate cries. Steve had fisted a hand in the sheets of his bed, hoping it would be enough to hold himself back from storming over to your cottage and taking your heat into his own hands. 

Then, Steve heard you cry out his name and something in him snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and stormed out of his bedroom, leaping down the stairs and throwing open the front door of his house so ferociously, he’d ripped it off some of the hinges. 

Not even caring that he was leaving his door open, Steve charged over to your cottage, taking a little bit more care with your front door when he broke the lock and pushed it open, flinging it closed behind him. He knew it was likely stuck closed thanks to the broken lock, but Steve only cared that it would prevent anyone else from getting into your home. He’d deal with getting out later. Much later.

Finally, Steve got to the doorway of your bedroom, your nest, and he’d stumbled to a stop at the sight that lay before him.

You were perched in the center of your big bed, a pillow wedged between your thighs, the knot of a toy barely visible while you humped futilely on the fake cock. Your delicate fingers groped your tits, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself—that thought making even more blood rush to Steve’s cock. Desperate whimpers and whines fell from your lips, more pleas to be knocked up and filled with pups, and they were nearly his undoing.

At the last second, Steve gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from pouncing on you, as he tried to remember why he shouldn’t be there. You were an unmated omega, in heat, and he hadn’t gotten permission to be in your nest, let alone help you through your heat. And you were too sweet for him…

God, you looked sweet, though. Sweet enough that Steve’s mouth watered with the thought of how slick you were, how good you would taste on his tongue. Even from the doorway, he could see the way your wetness had soaked the pillow between your thighs. He wanted to taste you, to scent you, he wanted you. 

Steve was seconds away from launching himself at you when your gaze finally landed on him. It was the delighted surprise in your eyes that urged him to ground out a desperate plea for consent to enter your room and help you through your heat. Blessedly, you seemed coherent enough to answer—but you didn’t only answer and beg for his help, you called him your mate.

That word struck a chord in Steve’s chest, his heart pounding even harder at the impossible prospect that you were his mate—that you were meant to be his. But he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of you and opening himself up to the possibility that you were his. 

You even smelled sweet, like the pink roses in your front garden—or, rather, the peace Steve felt when he came home to find you tending to your flowers. You smelled like the warmth of a gentle fire and the giddiness of butterfly kisses. You smelled like life, like the time unfurling before the two of you, years and decades spent with each other, making each other happy. 

It was as if Steve truly came alive for the first time when he scented you, and the last tether of the self-restraint holding him back from you snapped. 

“My omega, my mate,” he rumbled in a low purr, a voice he’d never even heard himself use before. But he didn’t have time to think about that too closely—he only knew he needed to get to you. 

As quickly as he could, Steve surged into your room, tearing off his boxer briefs—the only clothing he’d had the presence of mind to put on, and he was thankful for it, since it saved him the grief of a public indecency charge—in the few steps it took to get to your bed.

By the time Steve tackled you into the tangle of blankets and pillows, he was naked as the day he was born, his cock throbbing with need and brushing against swaths of your soft, bare skin, leaving his precum behind. The alpha cradled your body in his strong arms as he rolled you beneath him, his narrow hips slotting perfectly between your plush thighs, his hard length resting against your mound. 

But there was something in his way, something that shouldn’t be inside you and Steve couldn’t help but growl, “Get that fucking toy out of my cunt, ‘mega.” He softened the fury in his voice with light, fleeting kisses to your cheeks and temple and forehead, greedy to taste the sweetness of your skin.

“Yes, alpha,” you gasped, fumbling between your bodies to wrench the silicone dick from your tight hole. 

The sweet submission in your voice was too much for Steve—he had to taste it. Slanting his lips to yours, Steve kissed you for the first time, groaning into your mouth at the wondrous feeling of your mouth beneath his. You tasted better than you smelled, like radiant sunshine bursting on his tongue and casting a golden glow over his entire body. 

Deepening the kiss, Steve plundered your mouth, stroking his tongue against yours and nipping at your lips until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your entire body trembled with unslaked need, your fingers clinging to his bulging biceps as you cried out for him, all of which stroked Steve’s alpha ego so much, his cock twitched and leaked against your belly.

“Please, Steve—daddy—alpha—I need you inside me,” you wailed in a broken voice and Steve’s instincts took over.

He shifted his hips back, the tip of his cock finding your slick hole and he pushed forward, sinking his hard length into your cunt with one thrust. Steve’s entire world realigned, his heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your tight heat consuming him, overwhelming him. An animalistic groan left his lips, and he buried the sound in your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried not to come immediately.

With Steve’s cock finally buried inside you, he felt your body relax beneath him, your moan of pleasure dissolving into a sigh of relief. Steve’s hindbrain felt a deep satisfaction at the way you melted in his arms, your submission to him apparent in the loosening of your muscles. Finding your lips again, Steve kissed you sweetly, cherishing the moment of calm before your heat urged the two of you to move.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered, your voice soft and blissful and the most content Steve had heard it since your heat began in earnest the day before. “The toys weren’t working.” You pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek on your way to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing so deeply he could hear your inhale, making his cock twitch in the depths of your pussy. 

Then, your words pierced through the haze of pleasure in Steve’s mind and he purred, smiling into your neck when you relaxed further beneath him, responding to him.

“You needed your mate, didn’t you, baby?” Steve cooed, lavishing your neck with kisses until you were whining and squirming beneath him. “Needed your daddy to pound your needy little cunt like only your alpha could, huh?” He started rolling his hips in tight circles, grinding into your cunt, his knot rubbing your clit in a way that had you clenching deliciously around him. “Needed me to pump your sweet little womb full of come, huh, needed me to give you a pup?” 

As soon as the heated words fell from Steve’s lips, he wished he could take them back. He’d heard you beg him to breed you, but that was when you were riding a silicone alpha dick, not when you were seconds away from taking Steve’s knot. 

Mentally, Steve chastised himself for letting his mouth run away from him so soon. He’d barely gotten his cock in you and he was already talking about knocking you up. He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of alpha, one that only wanted an omega to pump out babies for him—even though the thought did make Steve rock hard.

“Sorry, ‘mega,” Steve mumbled, shifting his arms beneath your body so he could cradle your head in one hand, holding you still while he rocked his hips into yours, kissing your cheek and jaw and neck and anywhere he could reach. 

“Sorry for what?” you asked on a gasp, hooking your legs around Steve’s sides and clinging to him so you could grind on his thick cock. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem turned off or scared by Steve’s breeding talk. If anything, the way you arched your spine and shoved your cunt down on his dick made him think you liked it. But surely that couldn’t be true.

“Didn’t mean to mention pups so soon,” Steve said gruffly, hiding his face in your neck so you wouldn’t see the blush that he knew was turning his cheeks pink. 

“Oh god,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing Steve’s cock as your body writhed beneath his. “Wanna give you so many pups, alpha,” you cried, humping up from beneath Steve’s big body, riding his cock harder than you’d been riding your toy when he’d walked in. 

Steve went cross-eyed at the assault on his senses. Between the perfect heat of your slick pussy gripping his cock, teasing his knot every time you rocked against him, and the sound of your sweet voice confessing you wanted him to knock you up, Steve’s body shuddered with the effort it took not slam his knot home and flood your womb with his seed to give you exactly what you wanted.

“You like that idea, huh?” Steve rumbled, hungry passion and desire coursing through his body and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder. He pulled out of your fluttering pussy and slammed back inside, relishing the desperate cry that left your lips and the way your fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. “You like it when your alpha tells you how much he wants to breed you?” 

Despite his best efforts, Steve could hear the thread of insecurity in his question, and he wasn’t surprised when you cupped his face and moved his head up so you could look into his eyes. What he didn’t expect was the sheer amount of pleasure and desire in your hazy gaze, or the mixture of sweetness and depravity in the little smirk you gave him.

“I do, daddy,” you said, your voice breathy but no less firm in your resolve. “I want to hear everything you’ve thought about doing to your little omega—want you to breed me, alpha.” 

Everything else in the world melted away as Steve focused on you—his omega, his mate—and the fact that he was going to try his damndest to give you what you wanted. After all, that was his duty as your alpha. You were his to take care of, to provide for, to protect, to cherish—to fuck and to knot. 

You were his to love—you were his to breed. And Steve planned on loving you and breeding you plenty.

You’d never felt anything so good as Steve sinking his thick alpha cock into your weeping cunt, and you nearly sobbed in relief as the edge of aching, burning need finally abated. This was what you needed—not a toy or any alpha’s cock, but your mate’s. Your body and omega instincts had known something was wrong, and it had taken a slip of your tongue to fix it. 

Even if it had been an accident to cry out Steve’s name, you couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not when you finally felt something like satisfaction. The need of your heat still burned bright beneath your skin, but for a moment, you could revel in the feeling of being so intimately connected to your mate, your Steve—the alpha next door. 

The words of thanks had slipped past your lips before you could stop them, and you loved the teasing way he responded. But then you felt a shift in Steve. He’d seemed to feel guilty for mentioning pups, but even his apology turned you on, making your arousal burn hotter. Your body had been unable to still when you needed him so badly—needed to give him pups, needed to grow round with his child and know that he had claimed you in the most primal way possible. 

Your brain had short-circuited when Steve had said he wanted to breed you, but you’d still heard the anxiousness in his tone and you’d guided his head up so you could look at him. The uncertainty and guilt in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes nearly broke your heart. He was too sweet for words, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with even the words he said in the heat of the moment. 

Between one breath and the next, you fell in love with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t simply the alpha next door, he was your mate, and he was yours. A fierce possessiveness filled your chest as you smirked up at your alpha, determining to show him exactly how much you wanted everything he’d said.

“Want you to breed me, alpha,” you begged on a moan, your hips rising up off the bed to meet the brutal thrusts of your mate. “Fill me up with your pups, daddy, please, I need it!” You held Steve’s gaze, letting him see the pleasure on your face, hear the genuineness of your words. 

You saw the moment Steve’s insecurity and guilt melted into desire and determination. His blue eyes darkened and his face twisted into a mask of sinful resolve. He looked like a fallen god, with his golden hair and tanned skin, framed perfectly in the little bit of morning light filtering in through the skylight above your bed. Your pussy clenched around his cock, fluttering as he thrust inside you, teasing your hole with his knot.

“Don’t worry, ‘mega,” Steve rumbled, ducking down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that left you gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. “We’re making a baby today.”

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, spreading your legs wider in an effort to let Steve fuck you deeper. He grinned, shifting his hands to your thighs and pushing them up against your chest, folding you in half and pounding you into the bed. 

“Gonna fill up your perfect cunt with all the seed in my balls, and if it doesn’t take today, ‘m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my come—until your belly’s bulging with it,” Steve growled, rutting into you with a ferociousness you never would’ve expected from your sweet alpha neighbor. But Steve’s sweetness was never far from the surface, and he proved it by lowering his voice to a deep rumble that you felt in your belly, asking, “Mm, ’s that what you want, baby, want daddy to give you a pup?”

You were pinned beneath Steve, his cock fucking you so hard, your room was filing with the wet squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and the sharp rhythm of your alpha’s thighs slapping against your own. But still, it was his words that seemed to have the most effect on you, turning you into a writhing, needy creature who’d only be satisfied when Steve emptied his balls deep in your cunt. 

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, your fingers clinging to Steve’s shoulders, digging into his warm, golden skin while he fucked you into oblivion. “Want you to knock me up, wanna give you a pup, wanna grow big and round with your child and feed you both from my milky tits,” you babbled, throwing your head back and screaming when Steve’s cock hit against your cervix, pleasure and pain swirling like an inferno in your body. “Please, daddy, god, I need it, I need it—knot me, breed, me, Steve, please!” 

“Baby,” Steve groaned, capturing your lips in another kiss while he rutted into you faster and harder, his knot pressing against your tight hole with every thrust and teasing you with the stretch of it. “You’re gonna get a pup, alright,” he growled when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna pop out a kid for me and then I’m gonna fill you right back up.” Steve moaned, his body shuddering and you knew he was close. “Wanna watch you bounce on my cock with your belly ripe and swollen with my pups, your tits heavy with milk—the prettiest mommy and mate an alpha could ask for.” 

“Steve,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, kissing him and thrusting your hips up to meet his. “Please, make me a mommy, alpha—wanna be a mommy, please, daddy, daddy, please!” Then your lips were too preoccupied with Steve’s, kissing him messily in between desperate moans while he fucked you hard and fast. 

Finally, Steve pulled back and thrust forward with so much power, his knot pushed inside your tight cunt and you screamed in pleasure, the feeling of his thick bulge stretching your tight hole sending you over the edge into the most earth-shattering release you’d felt in your life. It was a transcendental experience, coming on your mate’s cock, your alpha surrounding you and filling you up in every way possible.

As your body squeezed Steve’s cock, he groaned loudly in your ear, burying his face in your neck while his hips stuttered against yours, trying to fuck you with his knot but unable to move because your bodies were locked so tightly together. Then, with a moan of, “my mate,” you felt the moment Steve began to come. His cock twitched deep inside your cunt, a warmth filling you as he shot rope after rope of come against your cervix, filling your womb.

For a long time, the two of you stayed locked together, riding out your releases in each other’s embrace. Giggles and moans filled the room, each of you kissing the other wherever you could reach while you basked in your pleasure together. You breathed in the scent of Steve, your lips dragging up and down the column of his throat while he kissed your neck and shoulder and just beneath your ear, making you shiver. 

Eventually, when the squeezing of your cunt was reduced to a flutter and your body had milked every last drop of seed from Steve’s cock, the two of you settled. Your heat had abated for the moment. Though need still burned low in the core of your body, reminding you it wasn’t over just yet. 

But you had a bit of a respite, and you took the time to revel in you newfound mate. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, which was flushed pink with pleasure.

You felt Steve’s smile against your skin and then he was rising up so you could see the full blush that tinged your alpha’s cheeks. He looked so sweet and ruined, his blond hair a mess, his blue eyes bright with satisfaction, a deeply smug smile on his plump lips. 

“Feeling better, ‘mega?” he asked, though there was so much male satisfaction in his tone, you were certain he already knew the answer. 

Still, you liked seeing this side of Steve. Typically you didn’t like cocky alphas, but Steve looked so hot when he was confident, your pussy fluttered around his knot at the sight of his smirk.

“I am, daddy,” you said softly, smiling up at your alpha, enjoying the way his smirk deepened as you confirmed what he knew. You couldn’t help but stroke his ego a little more. “Now that you’re here to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes softened and he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. “Good,” he said when he pulled away. Then his arms were wrapping around you and he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him until you were splayed across his broad chest, your bodies still locked together by his knot. 

It would deflate soon enough, but you reveled in the feeling while it lasted, snuggling into Steve’s arms. Sleep called to you, but Steve was still moving and you when you opened your eyes, you found him reaching for your stash of provisions on your bedside table.

“Gotta eat and hydrate, baby,” Steve murmured as he unwrapped a protein bar and began feeding it to you. Even though you were exhausted, you knew he was right and you let him feed you, only sitting up when it was time to gulp down some of the sports drink he offered you. “Good girl, ‘mega, doing so well for your alpha,” Steve said, praising you while you ate and drank.

When you were done, Steve tossed the empty wrappers and bottles back onto your bedside table and relaxed into the many pillows on your bed. You settled down on his chest, your body sated in every way possible, muscles going loose when your alpha began to purr. 

“Thank you, alpha,” you mumbled, the urge to sleep more insistent since you were fed. Steve’s hands smoothed down your back, tracing your spine lightly with his fingertips in a way that made you melt even further into him. 

“Don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re my mate, ‘m gonna do everything I can to take care of you—and our kids.” He added the last bit like it was an afterthought, but you knew Steve meant it, and your heart warmed at his protectiveness. 

You smiled into Steve’s warm skin, nuzzling into his neck beneath his jaw, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of home—but his words made you remember something you should tell him. 

“Steve, ‘m on birth control,” you murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to the thick column of his neck. “Thought you should know.” You snorted a little, laughing at yourself for the silliness of your last statement, even though it was true.

The rumble of Steve’s purr changed as he chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist for a moment before he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over your cooling bodies. “Figured, ‘mega,” he rumbled, his voice so warm, you could hear his smile. “Doesn’t mean ‘m gonna stop picturing you round with my pup, even if it’s a while before that happens.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, then pouted as you processed his words. “As long as it’s not a long while,” you muttered, hardly listening to what you were saying because you were so close to sleep.

Steve chuckled again, his hands squeezing you lightly. “It’ll be as long or as short as you want, baby,” he assured you in a gruff voice that was thick with just as much tiredness as yours. “I’d give you a pup today if I could.” 

You smiled, your heart filling with emotion, and pressed your lips to your alpha’s neck. You might’ve been exhausted, but it didn’t stop you from murmuring the words your heart urged you to say, “I love you, Steve.” 

Steve’s purr deepened, and he held you close, no hesitation in his voice when he said, “I love you, too.” Your alpha brushed a kiss to your cheek and smacked your ass very lightly. “Now rest, omega, we still have to get through the rest of your heat.”

You fell asleep with a smile on your face, feeling safe and protected and satisfied in the arms of your mate, your bodies still locked together by Steve’s knot. You never would’ve expected anything to come of your crush on your neighbor—and you never would’ve expected he’d be a perfect fit for your desires, let alone your mate. 

But, you knew the two of you were going to live a happy life together—and you couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it with the alpha next door.

[akawrites000]

casually caring for someone - a prompt list

this can be for anyone - your crush, s/o, close friends. i hope you'll have fun with this!

A messaging B to wear layers first thing in the morning because they know that B never checks their weather forecast (and A obsessively checks it every day).

A and B have a study session together where B is already done with most of their work, but A is still looking all focused at their laptop, so B just pretends like they have more work to do while keeping an eye on A, in case A needs anything to be more comfortable.

Knowing that the other prefers hot/cold water and making sure to fill that in another bottle and giving it to them while you fill your own bottle.

You're having a picnic with your friends and you're in charge of buying the drinks, so you're at a grocery shop, scanning the aisles and you find a bottle of so-so that you know A really likes, so you pick it up for them, along with other general drinks for everyone else.

A and B go out to eat with their friends, and when they are leaving the restaurant, B forgets their jacket—deep in conversation with another friend. A picks it up for them, just as B turns back, searching for their jacket. "here you go" "thank you so much! i was just going to go and look for it"

A eats slowly and B knows that but they don't mind at all. B just finishes eating first and engages A by talking to them about something until A finishes eating their food.

B is scared of dogs so the moment they see a dog approaching them, they pull A in front of them like a shield. A just lets B do whatever they want because they're too busy cooing at the dog.

A invites B out to spend the day together because they've been a little worried about them recently. B hesitantly agrees, and by the end of the day, B ends up having so much fun that they both end up going home pretty late.

B is waiting for the bus to arrive so texts A in the mean time so as not to feel bored. "this street lamp looks so yellow!" A genuinely enjoys their randomness, so they of course indulge in it. "oh yeah? what kind of yellow?"

A knowing that B has a very low tolerance to the cold and asking them to go inside and not to wait with them for the bus to arrive. "please go in! you're going to catch a cold!" "it's okay, the app says it's just a few more minutes away."

(this is my first time trying to write prompts like these so i hope they're good! please tag me if you decide to use them :) )

[tennessoui]

Hey kit ! Your last fic was a treat, I love sugar baby Obi-wan being spoiled by Anakin !! He deserves it ! Thank you so much for sharing !

For the four words prompt, what about TIIT Obi-wan saying « you’re a menace » to Anakin 😁 ?

hey!! thank you, i'm glad you liked it!!!

this is set in the squick: a/b/o universe of terribly inconvenient, incredibly terrific, a few months after the end!!

(also,,,,,may be posting a 4th chapter/epilogue to that fic this week,,,,,,where obi-wan goes into surprise rut,,,so if you wanna reread to prep/remind yourself,,,,i had to)

(1.7k)

For one blissful, probably pheromone-addled moment, Obi-Wan had really honestly let himself believe that claiming and mating Anakin would somehow make him easier to wrangle. That perhaps the only thing that would have helped during his bratty and incorrigible senior padawan years was a mating bite and some sort of sexual reward system for good behavior.

He’d even tricked himself into feeling quite optimistic about the whole thing. He’d never particularly envisioned himself as a mated alpha, but he’d thought it could be agreeable, when the omega he was mated to was also the same person who turned out to be the love of his life.

He’d really honestly thought that mating the brat would make his life much easier, and not even because of any of the stereotypical alpha tricks and dynamics nonsense always purported by the galactic holos and media. He hadn’t thought he could scruff Anakin into obedience or that he’d ever want to use that commanding alpha tone on him to make him fall in line.

Obi-Wan isn’t that sort of alpha. 

Obi-Wan would rather die than ever become that sort of alpha. 

But they’d admitted their love to each other in the wake of Anakin’s heat, in the precious few moments before they’d bonded. 

Weren’t you supposed to want to make the person you loved’s life easier? As a general rule of thumb?

Apparently no one’s told Anakin this.

“You’re a menace,” Obi-Wan says, and his tone is supposed to be flat, unimpressed, but it comes out almost awed. 

Anakin preens from behind the bars of his jail cell. He goes back to looking surly a second later though, like it’s his resting demeanor.

“Two planetary incidents in one fucking day,” Obi-Wan continues, still trying to wrap his head around…this. He starts pacing, because pacing usually helps. “The Vun and the Jael peoples hate each other, Anakin. They’ve not agreed on anything for the past two thousand years, hence the entire civil war. And yet in the span of one day, you’ve managed to unite them behind one thing. Hatred for you.”

Anakin bears his teeth, air spiking with the scent of—of—sticky sap.

“Are you—sorry, are you aroused?”

“No!” Anakin scowls and shifts from his seat on the jail cell bed. His cheeks are flushed though, and he can’t maintain eye contact with him.

“You are,” Obi-Wan says slowly, the awe accidentally slinking its way back into his voice. “Do you know how many hours of my night I just spent negotiating for your release and our safe passage off Vu/Jaelo? Too many to fucking count, Anakin. I am furious with you.”

Anakin shifts again as if he can’t help it. “Yeah?”

“Force,” Obi-Wan rubs a hand over his beard with a shake of his head. “Both sides wanted to kill you, Anakin—the only reason they didn’t is because they couldn’t agree on how.”

“No,” Anakin says and Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow.

“Oh, I assure you they did. It took all of dinner to convince them not to—why are you aroused, Anakin? This is neither the time nor the place!”

He doesn’t mean to raise his voice, as Anakin never responds well to yelling, but he’s feeling his own instinctual response to Anakin’s arousal stirring in his stomach. His omega is wet and Obi-Wan just spent twenty odd hours defending him and protecting him aand the alpha inside his chest is clawing at the bars of its cage to take his reward. 

Obi-Wan automatically starts on a very reliable breathing exercise, but it just pulls more of Anakin’s scent into his lungs, which is so distracting that he doesn’t even realize he’s stopped regulating or counting his breaths all together and is just standing half a step away from his omega’s prison cell, mouth open and watering.

Had he really ever, actually thought that his life would get easier after mating Anakin?

What a fool he’d been.

“Not knowing how wasn’t the only thing that stopped them,” Anakin says, rising from his cot to press himself against the jail bars. “You did. You’d be a pretty shit alpha if you let your omega get killed over a little diplomatic misunderstanding.”

Obi-Wan feels his lips pull back into a snarl. “I should put you on your knees,” he hears himself say as if someone else were growling the words. How can Anakin affect him so much, so easily? Half the time they’re together now after their mating, he feels like he’s coming undone, like he’s two seconds away from being swallowed by his instincts to take. To possess.

 “You could,” Anakin agrees. “You’re my alpha. You could order me to do anything, and I would. You could tell me to kneel in that tone, and I’d drop for you. I wouldn’t be able to help it. My body would listen because it knows it’s yours.”

“I’d never,” Obi-Wan says, horrified by the very thought, and then doubly so when he’s hit by the idea that perhaps Anakin is expecting him to do so, has been waiting for it to happen, for Obi-Wan to snap and—and abuse him. He’s stepping forward to cradle Anakin’s cheek through the prison bars.

For the first time since they mated, Obi-Wan wonders if they should have. If he could ever be a good enough alpha for Anakin, when he’s never going to be able to stop being his master.

And being Anakin’s master historically has meant a lot of nagging and berating and attempts at controlling.

But as his alpha, the nagging and the berating and the attempts at control…Anakin must have worried Obi-Wan might actually control him, use the alpha command, force him into compliance.

Anakin presses his cheek against the palm of Obi-Wan’s hand, practically nuzzling him. “I know,” he murmurs. “Of course I know, Obi-Wan. You’re the best alpha in the entire galaxy.”

Something settles in Obi-Wan’s chest at this admission, and he watches as his thumb strokes along the edge of the scar over Anakin’s cheek. “Best omega,” he replies rather nonsensically as the omega in question is currently standing behind prison bars after causing a round of serious diplomatic incidents.

“Don’t lie,” Anakin admonishes with a smile. His cheeks crease with the force of it.

“My omega,” Obi-Wan corrects himself, and Anakin lets out a noise that can only be described as a purr. He goes through the motions of unlocking the cell and is rewarded with Anakin in his arms, cold nose rubbing over the mating bite on Obi-Wan’s neck.

“I knew,” Anakin mumbles several hours ater after he’s thoroughly scented all of Obi-Wan, and they’re laying on their sheets, basking in the afterglow of sex that has yet to lose its electric and heady magic.

Obi-Wan hums to show he’s listening, but most of his attention is focused on the arduous task of stroking his fingers through Anakin’s soft hair, from root to tip over and over again.

“But I had to make sure,” Anakin continues, and it must be important because his scent goes sharp with nerves and he props himself up on Obi-Wan’s chest. “So. Sorry. You know. About the last few months.”

Obi-Wan blinks, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to think past his sex haze to what Anakin is saying. “You had to make sure,” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Anakin’s hair has fallen down across his forehead. He bites his lip. “I knew you’d never really command me or, you know. Be like that. But—but I just needed to make sure.”

“Wait,” Obi-Wan says. “Sorry, just—are you saying that you—for the past few months you’ve been so awful and incorrigible on purpose? You were testing me to—what, see if I’d snap?”

Anakin shrugs with one shoulder, looking torn between stubborn and sheepish. “I’d never known you as an alpha, just as my master. I needed to see for sure that you’d—you’d be an alpha I could trust as much as I trust my master.”

“Healer Che gave me meds to help with the migraines you’ve been giving me,” Obi-Wan says flatly. “She didn’t even question why I’d need them. You’ve been a menace. You poured soup on the lap of the Queen from Balion. You stole every left footed boot I own and hid them around the ship. You told the cook that my favorite food was ushral paste and to use it in everything. I despise the taste of ushral. You know that.”

“Well,” Anakin sniffs. “Tastes can change.”

“I’ve spent ninety-seven days wanting to throttle you.”

“Well,” Anakin clears his throat. “I’ve spent the last ninety-seven days falling more and more in love with you. Because of how you’ve—because you’ve never—you never snapped. You never commanded me to stop. You just went all Master on me.”

“All Master on you.”

“Yeah, like. I’m very disappointed in your antics, padawan, if you want to behave like a child, I’m sure we can find a spare cot for you in the creche—”

“I never said that,” Obi-Wan protests, because even at his most annoyed with Anakin, he never even considered sending him away.

“You practically did,” Anakin shrugs with his other shoulder. “But I would have deserved it. I was being awful.”

“Agreed,” Obi-Wan says. “I think I understand though.” “Of course you do,” Anakin drops down to rest his head on his chest again.

Obi-Wan lets the quiet envelop them again, resuming his Force-given job of scratching at his omega’s scalp gently. “So you’ll stop then, right? No more tests?”

“No more tests,” Anakin says. “You’re a good alpha.”

“Excellent,” Obi-Wan replies. Then with a bit of a grin he can’t keep off his face if he tried, “and I can’t wait to see you attempt being a good omega.”

Anakin bites him. 

It’s only partially well-deserved.

[bifangirl09er]

BL/GL Prompts CHAPTER 37!