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piratefishmama · 5 months

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Nest | Part 17

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

It’d been a week.

An entire week since Steve had last seen Eddie. He’d holed up in his apartment, spent the majority of his forced holiday time curled up in bed, or camping out on the sofa watching reruns of bad television. Robin had told him mid-way through the week that they weren’t in trouble, Wayne Munson didn’t intend to press for any complaints or legal action, but she’d heard nothing from Eddie.

Steve wasn’t in trouble, Owens wasn’t in trouble, he already had his next shift lined up at the end of the following week, already a new patient on the books to be seen to although he swore to himself that he wouldn’t be remotely as hands on as he’d been with Eddie. He’d do the minimum just like everyone else, he’d be there when he was needed, would provide care as required, but that was it.

He’d already had two complaints from other tenants shoved under his door about the stench though. Depressed alpha wasn’t a good smell, for Steve, people compared it to mould spores. Like walking into a bakery after a month of it being closed, only nobody had taken the produce away leaving everything to rot.

And the smell spread.

It didn’t matter that the owner of the building had boasted proper padding and ventilation in the ‘Alpha Safe’ apartments before he’d moved in, the smell seeped into every single corner, settled into fabrics, snuck under the front door and out into the hallway. He wanted his Omega.

He didn’t even really know his omega, but he wanted him. He’d made promises, promises he couldn’t keep with Eddie so far away. Promises he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to keep and wasn’t that just a terrifying notion. Eddie was alone again. His heat would come again, he’d be alone for it, there was no way he’d be able to get a clinic trip for free again. Freebies happen once and only in dire situations, after that you have a month to sort yourself out an alpha to join you, or you’re on your own.

It didn’t matter if a week of that month was spent recovering from an unsuccessful heat, you had a month, and Steve was well aware of the ticking clock, he spent most of the time just, looking at it on the wall. Ticking away, precious minutes going by tick by tock. It was ridiculous, he’d barely thought about Eddie Munson for years until he walked into that clinic and all of a sudden he was all Steve could think about. He pined, he yearned, he ached to see him, to make sure he was okay, and yet he couldn’t make himself take that trip to the trailer park where he knew Eddie lived.

It was an invasion of privacy, he’d already broken most of the policies at Nest, he didn’t want to break the last one too, even if he didn’t get Eddie’s address from the database at the clinic, even if he already kind of knew where Eddie lived beforehand.

Eddie deserved his privacy, he deserved his space to heal, to figure out what’d happened on his own time, to get himself and his head clear, to—screw it.

Steve had waited an entire week, he was going to get himself up, get himself showered, dressed, apply patches to his scent glands, he was going to open his front door and— stop dead in place because stood there, with a hand raised, poised to knock, was one Eddie Munson, his big brown doe eyes wide in surprise. “Uhm…” Eddie dropped his hand “hey, Steve, can… can we talk?”

“Eddie…” he rocked forwards, hands flexing as if to reach out, only to catch himself at the last minute, releasing a pained little whine from his throat, he wanted to touch, wanted to hold, to bury his face into all that hair and just breathe he was so close, so, so very close and every inch of Steve’s very being screamed at him to pull Eddie closer, to hold him as tightly as possible and never let him go again, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he wasn’t allowed, he didn’t have permission, he didn’t—

“It’s okay, alpha… you can touch, it’s okay” the dam broke in an instant, the second those consenting words reached his ears, he was wrapping Eddie up in his arms and holding him as tightly as he could, face buried into the side of his neck, arms squeezing him tight, if he could get any closer, if they could merge into one being, he’d do it. “Christ, big boy” Eddie huffed into his shoulder, even as he curled his own arms around Steve, even as he buried his nose into the fabric of Steve’s sweater and breathed deeply, letting himself be held.

Steve whined, squeezing him to his chest, desperate to smell him, but unable to, the Omega had patches on, hiding his scent from the world. Fuck he hated those blasted little things. “How are you here?”

Eddie eased back, forcing Steve to loosen his grip just so Eddie could look at him face to face “Buckley came by the trailer… can… can we go inside?” Robin. You scheming, rule breaking, beautiful human being. “We can talk in the hallway if you want but I’d rather—”

“No! Yeah, uhm. Yes, come in, sorry.” He stepped aside, motioning with his hand to let Eddie in, if he could think about anything other than the fact that Eddie was there, maybe he’d have felt self-conscious, maybe he’d have worried about the mess that’d built from him just wallowing, but no, he was just glad Eddie was there. No longer drenched in the sweet smell of heat, but still everything Steve could ever want.

He was back to his old self, leather, ripped denim, his rings clunky on his fingers, he didn’t look like an omega and likely sure as hell didn’t act like one either.

He was still the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen in his life. Maybe that was the rose tinted glasses, Steve didn’t care. Eddie was there, in his living room, making himself comfortable on the couch, seemingly uncaring about the smell.

“You can close the door, Steve, I’m okay.” Right, he’d been holding it open. He closed it, they were together. In the same room. Eddie had closed himself in with Steve voluntarily.

Honestly he could just cry. Eddie was there, he was safe. He was okay.

“Eddie I— I didn’t—”

“Didn’t hurt me, I know, Steve. I know you spent the whole night holding me while I slept, making sure I was okay. I know. I know you’re a good Alpha Stevie, I know.”

“You… you know?”

“Mmhm, Buckley. I mean… I kind of figured, once my head cleared up a little, nothing felt different and I wasn’t in any pain, which… I figured I probably would have been had you—y’know, but Robin came by with a tape from your boss. It just confirmed what I figured out myself. I’d have come sooner but… well, cramps. Can you sit down?” Steve startled into action, quickly sitting himself down in his arm chair, opposite where Eddie had sat on the couch to give him some space. “Look… I uh… I know… I know things were said at the clinic, and like… I get that you had a job to do, and that included making me feel better an all that shit, so—if—if you want, I can just—just forget that you said anything, y’know? Just… I don’t expect anything from you, I mean… You were just doing your job, an I was super inappropriate with you like, the whole time, the shit I said—I—I’m sorry dude, I—I wasn’t in my right mind an I know you were probably just bein nice an I appreciate that—”

“Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You said you wanted to spend my next heat with me, right? An uh… other stuff…” Stuff that’d made his knees weak when he’d remembered it. When the memories of Steve so close, his firm body pressed so tightly against his, when he’d remembered everything, when it’d all slammed back into his brain at breakneck pace leaving him horny and breathless, desperate for something thicker than his own fingers, endlessly frustrated that he didn’t have anything close to what he needed. “But I figured that was probably just to make me feel better or some shit, an I get it, I get that, I mean… there’s no hard feelings, I don’t expect anything from yo—”

“Eddie, do you want me?”

“What?” The poor Omega struck just a little stupid by the abrupt question.

“Simple question” Steve slipped from the arm chair, lowering himself down to his knees in front of his Omega, he reached both hands up to cup those perfectly soft cheeks, in awe of how beautiful Eddie was up close, the way those plush lips parted ever so slightly to breath a little heavier, the way his beautiful doe eyes widened, chocolate brown disappearing as black pupils blew wide, locked on Steve, the way his cheeks warmed under Steve’s palms. He only wished he could smell him. Wished Eddie hadn’t come out wearing those blasted patches. “Do you want me?”

“If… If I say yes will you finally kiss me?” There was only one way Steve could possibly answer that question, and that was by closing the gap between their lips, finally claiming the very first of many promised kisses still to come.

Part 19 (The End)

#PirateWrites #NestFiclet #Steddie #CW: A/B/O #No Upside Down AU #Omegaverse #Omega!Eddie Munson #Alpha!Steve Harrington

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hawnks · 6 months

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Alpha!Nanami/Omega!reader

Word count: ~2,800

warnings: a/b/o typical sexism, abuse of authority (from side character), mention of leg injury

……………………………………………………….

He brings the storm with him.

You learn him in whispers, along with a bevy of myth and rumor. He drifted here from the East. His clothing has been mended at least a dozen times, but his shoes are sturdy, expertly crafted. He makes no noise when he walks — hardly any noise at all. Rōnin, not samurai. And you can’t trust a man with no honor.

He killed his old master, I heard.

No, he was exiled.

Maybe he killed his master because he was exiled.

“He’ll be gone tomorrow once the rain lets up,” the innkeeper says, cutting off all further speculation. “Now, mind your work, not the guests.”

Beside you, someone grouses, “He chose a funny season to wander, if he’s afraid of the weather.”

…

The rain does not let up.

It puts everyone in a sour mood. The streets turn viscous and tacky, the air brutally cool. You draw the short straw, sent to fetch the days meat in the early morning, a long trek to the fishmonger that leaves you drenched down to your underwear.

It takes twice as long as usual — you lose your sandal a few times in the muck — and when you arrive the stand is vacant. The old man had come down with pneumonia.

Frustrated, you take the long way home. They can wait for the bad news, and you’re so soaked a few extra minutes won’t make any difference. You catch the eye of a few of the daimyō’s men, leering at you from beneath awnings, snickering as you walk by.

“Wanna hear a joke about wet omegas?” one of them calls to you.

You grit your teeth and keep walking.

You deliver the news about the fish to the innkeeper at the door to her room, so you can dart out again before she has a chance to say anything. God forbid she sends you out on another errand.

Soaking, furious, you change into your uniform, and begin your shift at the tavern.

The work is tedious, but decently lucrative. You like to talk to travelers, learn what’s happening beyond the boundaries of your town. It’s hard to put into words what you get out of this, hoarding information like you’re starved for it. Maybe the sheer notion that there is someplace else. That this town and its people are not the only things in the world.

The comfort of knowing away is still possible.

You expect to ask the rōnin the same, starry eyed questions, regardless of how the other server is avoiding him. It might even be enough to salvage this shitty morning.

But you don’t get a chance to ask him where he’s from, what he’s seen. You open your mouth to say something, and choke on air thick with the scent of wisteria.

He meets your gaze.

He won’t look away.

Your wet hair drips on his table.

You can’t feel your fingertips.

Shoving yourself away from the table so hard it rattles against the floor, you excuse yourself in a mumbled tumult. You recruit the other server to take over your tables for the rest of the morning. You must look as awful as you feel, because she doesn’t even question it as you retreat back to your room, throw yourself under the quilt. Close your eyes and pray for your heart to settle.

The one thing the gossip didn’t prepare you for — an alpha.

…

Another day of storms. Another morning you draw the short straw.

Another day you limp home through the mud, empty handed.

The soldiers don’t leer today. Instead, the daimyō is waiting for you. It feels like he’s always waiting for you, that he could swoop in any moment, as quick and ruthless as a hawk.

He’s said he could follow your scent straight to you, no matter where you’re hiding. Sometimes you believe it.

He’s leaning against a wall under an awning, but you know the casual stance is deceptive. He can be fast when he wants to be.

He calls your name, an inferred order to come.

You pretend you didn’t hear, keep walking.

He’s standing straight now arms at his side. Ready. Your insides feel leaden. It takes all your willpower to keep moving forward. To disregard an alpha is one, painful thing. To disregard the daimyō is simple insanity.

Water blurs your vision. You can’t tell from the corner of your eye what expression he’s making. Sometimes he finds your insolence humorous.

Sometimes not.

Just a dozen feet further and you’ll be at the bend in the road.

“You should greet me,” he says. Quiet, but you’re so hyper-vigilant, there’s no way you could miss it.

“Good morning, My Lord,” you whisper to your feet.

He doesn’t step out into the rain, but his voice follows you around the corner. Teasing, condescending. “That’s a good omega.”

He could kill you for your bad manners. A servant, ignoring their lord. No one would question it, no one would dispute it.

But then — he would be killing the only omega in the whole town.

As much as he resents your disobedience, he would resent the loss of you even more. An alpha must have an omega, he told you. That is his right.

Chin tucked and scurrying, you don’t realize you’re on a collision course until you’ve already run into the man. The impact sends you tumbling to the ground.

Through the buffer of the downpour, it takes you a minute to recognize him. His scent.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says. “I apologize.”

He bends to offer you a hand up. You just stare at his outstretched palm. Silent. Reeling.

You wait for him to give an order. Demand you take his hand, or that you come to stand on your feeble legs all on your own. It’s simply an alphas nature to wield their power like a cudgel, to bend everything and everyone to their will.

And now you have two of them to deal with.

Another moment of stillness. Your breath steams. Your pulse drowns out all other sounds.

He kneels.

Like this, on the same level, you can see the color of his eyes. So perfectly brown they’re almost black.

“Are you alright?” he says.

His voice is staid and calm. Not demanding. Not cruel. It — confuses you. You don’t understand what he wants from you.

You rise to your knees, shoving him with all your strength. He doesn’t budge. He remains solid and upright beneath your hands. You can feel the muscle, the innate strength. He’s warm, beneath the wet clothes. So incredibly warm.

You wonder if he could soothe your chill. You wonder if the touch of his bare skin would burn.

With a gasp, you tear away, appalled and mystified by your own reaction.

He stays kneeling as you rise and step away. He stays as you rush home, the scent of wisteria heavy in your lungs.

…

The innkeeper is displeased with your performance, of late. She gives you a stern warning that you shouldn’t let your “licentious nature” interfere with work.

“I don’t know why I agreed to take an omega on,” she sighs. “Not like you’ll be around for much longer, anyway.”

You wince. “Am I fired?”

The old woman laughs. “No, no. Not yet, anyway.” She waves at you, a full body gesture. A reference to the omega in you. “You’ll be wed to His Lordship soon, anyway. You won’t have to worry about the toil of work anymore.”

You excuse yourself shortly after.

…

The days are a monotony. Even the fear is so commonplace you lose track of it. The daimyō grows impatient with you. He calls to you from the shelter of the awning, each time a little bolder, a little less demure about his intentions.

“You know, I have a bad habit of breaking my things when I get bored of them,” he tells you. “I wonder what other tricks you have to keep me entertained.”

You hang your clothes to dry every evening, and the drip becomes a steady cadence, like the ticking of a clock.

This is your life.

The rain.

…

The decree is issued that afternoon. Marriage.

You’re to report to the royal estate before sundown, along with everything you own. You will not be coming back.

You pack your bag; you take the road out of town. With the city at your back, you’ll have to pass through the outskirt woods. Then across the river, a dangerous gambit when the water is this high, but that just means you won’t be followed.

You can’t imagine the consequences if they catch you.

The path grows looser the further you go, the mud deep, silt as slick as ice. Arduous and exhausting. And dangerous, too.

You don’t realize your footing is off until it’s too late. You slip, land badly. You cry out before you can stop yourself.

You struggle to your knees, get one of your legs beneath you. A shock of pain has you tumbling down again.

You can’t stand. You can’t run.

Just moments after you fall, a shadow overtakes you. And a man, looming, familiar, crouches before you.

“I heard your voice,” he says. “Can you walk?”

You shake your head, timid, overwhelmed.

“Pardon me,” he says, before hefting you up into his arms.

The ease he does it with is startling. An alpha’s superior strength.

He brings you to a small hunting cabin. Clearly abandoned, but decent enough. It’s dry, and a small fire is going in the hearth.

There’s no furniture except for a rudimentary pallet, which he sets you down on.

“May I?” he asks, hands hovering above your stockinged leg.

He takes your silence as answer enough, unrolling the material gradually, trying not to disturb your injury. He inspects it briefly, pressing carefully. You wince, he stops.

He reaches for his bag, retrieving a small tin. “Your ankle is sprained,” he tells you. “You should return to town in the morning.”

“I need to leave,” you return absently. “I have to get past the bridge.”

He frowns.

“The bridge has collapsed. The river is impassable.” He had tried to leave that morning, only to face the same dilemma. He considers you leg. “Besides, you won’t make it very far.”

The reality of your situation dawns on you, a slow tide of dread.

You missed your chance. You’ve lost your only opportunity at freedom.

You yank out of his grasp, dragging yourself across the floor, to the corner on the far side of the cabin.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you—“

“No. No.” You gnash your teeth at him, feeling wild with fear, unable to see past the dark curtain of it. “I have to go. I can’t be trapped in here with you.”

He raises a hand, a placating gesture, but all you see is motion, canting toward you. An alpha. A threat.

You grab whatever is closest. You throw it at him.

The stick doesn’t even hit him, but that doesn’t stop you. You throw everything within reach.

He just waits for you to give up, but soon enough he realizes how stubborn you can be.

“Enough,” he says. His voice fills the shack, not loud, but indomitable. The undeniable command of an alpha. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would appreciate if you would offer me the same courtesy.”

You drop the stone you were going to hurl at him, suddenly incapable of aggression. You feel — groggy, but less terrified now. Very nearly calm.

His pheromones, you realize.

The notion that he’s using them on you should incense you, but you can’t muster it. You close your eyes, exhausted.

Eventually, after long minutes of tepid silence, he murmurs, “I was here first, you are aware of that, right?” His tone is almost — sullen.

And for some reason, that very human show of petulance is enough to thaw you.

You laugh.

You can’t stop. You laugh so hard it’s hardly laughter anymore. It’s so intense it makes your ribs hurt, brings tears to your eyes.

It feels like the first time you’ve been able to think clearly in weeks.

When you finally calm to a few soft hiccups, you lay down and throw your arms out. Passive.

“Alright, swordsman,” you say, “Fix me.”

He’s slow to approach you, cautious of another rock coming at him. But you remain still.

His touch is gentle, so soft it’s like he’s barely handling you at all. He retrieves the tin of salve you kicked out of his hand, and begins to apply it. It’s cool, slightly astringent. Beneath that, the scent of wisteria.

His fingers are just as warm as the rest of him.

It’s over before you can get used to the sensation of him touching you. He pulls away, returns the tin to his bag. “That will help with the swelling. You should still avoid putting weight on it until it heals.”

“Thank you,” you force yourself to say.

You think you hear him chuckle.

…

Night blooms, full and dark.

Despite your anxiousness, the waiting has grown tedious. Unbearably so.

“Is there anything in that bag to alleviate boredom?”

He glances at you for a moment. Hesitating.

Finally he reaches inside, pulls out a small binding. He passes it to you.

A book of poems. You recognize the shape of the sentences, some of the words. You wonder what use a swordsman has for literature, but the swordsman is full of surprises evidently.

Th pages are worn, the edges soft from thumbing.

“I can’t read,” you say. You look at him. Expectantly.

You hold the book out. He takes it, slowly, gingerly.

He reads.

He’s not much of a performer, although you didn’t expect him to be. It’s clear he’s not used to reading aloud, but he knows these passages well. He’s tone is even, with little inflection. The words come out perfectly paced.

They’re love poems. Not flowery or decadent, but earnest, gentle.

It seems at odds with what you know of him, what you’ve assumed from his status, both as a rōnin and an alpha. You’re not sure what to make of him anymore, how to reconcile the image you built of him in your head and everything you’ve witnessed here.

His swords are leaned against the wall beside him, sure proof of a history of violence.

The question comes, unbidden. “Have you ever killed someone?”

He pauses, glances at you. He searches your face for something, the fear that should accompany those words. But your expression is blank.

Silence, fraught with the tense memory of how you ended up here. What were you running from? Why? He must understand, to some extent. No one reaches desperation without pretext.

“Yes,” he says, simply.

“If I asked you to kill someone,” you murmur. “If I paid you…”

The implication feels enormous within the tight confines of the cabin.

“I don’t believe that’s what you want.”

“What do I want?”

“To not be put in a position where you have to make that kind of decision.”

That makes something in your chest feel tight, on the verge of snapping. Another thing you can’t wrap your head around. Another emotion you can’t name. Uncomfortable, but not frightening. Not like before.

You feel displaced, unmoored.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m not being nice,” he says. “You need help. I’m in a position to provide it.”

And that seems wrong to you. Just because someone has the means doesn’t mean they’ll offer them, certainly not freely. Especially not when someone is a such a burden.

“I’ve never met an alpha who’s kind to an omega just for the sake of it,” you say despite his denial.

He mulls that over for a moment, head cocked as he decides how to respond.

“I didn’t know you were an omega until tonight,” he says, quietly. “I had my suspicions, but…”

“Were my bountiful charms not enough to tip you off?” You snort at his blank expression, too polite to disrespect you with an answer. “Why now?”

“Your scent. It’s…subtle. Easy to miss, especially under these circumstances.”

“What do I smell like?”

He smiles, for the first time since you met him. It softens his severe features, makes him look younger. Less world-weary. “You smell like rain.”

He continues reading as the sky continues to churn, until you can hardly keep your eyes open, just barely holding on to the soft thread of words.

“Sleep,” he says gently. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Despite yourself, you believe him.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #HAPPY FOUR AM #here’s this <3 #I knowwwww there’s like a thousand typos in here I just know it #I wanted to finish this tonight I felt compelled to #also I’m so sorry if u actually know stuff about history I am just making stuff up as I go <3 #JSJSJDJDJDJD #anyway……#one of the stranger aus I’ve written #cw: a/b/o #tw: a/b/o

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ofmermaidstories · 2 months

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alpha!deku in heat………….. and his mouth is filled with bloody sticky saliva bc he was mid-battle and went ballistic. 😐 gross iron-y breath over your face as you’re pinned down in some makeshift nest between the bed and the wall, that’s now hot and claustrophobic. 😐 you’re both trembling; you because what the fuck and deku because he’s overwhelmed with the relief of having you close. we’re gonna have to shove our fingers up his nostrils gang, get him to back the fuck off!!!

#cw: a/b/o #cw: blood #ig lmao i feel like i am gaining a very specific kink for that so 😔🔫 prepare yourselves gang

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antongf · 6 months

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warnings ⊹ omegaverse, a/b/o, omega!wonbin, heat cycles, alpha as a petname (reader is human), fingering, pegging, sex toys, knotting, knotted dildos

notes ⊹ this is a bit rushed. i hope omega!wonbin in heat plagues everyone’s minds like it has mine.

walking into your apartment after a long day at work, having left your boyfriend alone, you immediately hear shuffling and muffled whines. you recognized those whines instantly - wonbin’s whines.

they weren’t pained whines, and you trusted him enough to know he was solo, so you had nothing to worry about. you were going to leave him be. that was until you heard him weakly whine out “alpha.”

before you could register anything else, your feet were carrying you to your room. you stood in the doorway, having quietly cracked the door open to peek in, in awe at the sight in front of you. wonbin was on his stomach, hips raised just enough to see his fingers deep inside his hole. the dim light filtering through your curtained window landed perfectly on his body to see his sticky slick coating his skin.

“alpha, alpha, alpha.” he moans as he shoves his fingers as deep as they could go, trying to fill himself as much as he carnally desires. he lets out a frustrated whine. his fingers just aren’t good enough, he thinks.

you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. wonbin halts his movements. “you need a little help? does omega need alpha’s help getting off?”

he pulls his fingers out of himself, arching his back and whining at the loss. he presented himself so prettily to you.

“you poor thing,” you cooed. “give me a second. can you wait that long, omega?” wonbin whines again, but you pay him no mind. you make your way to the closet, reaching for the box you keep hidden in the corner. the box where you kept a toy for special occasions.

“alpha, please.” he begins to sound even more pathetic than he had before. “need it. need your knot, alpha. please.”

#riize smut #sub riize smut #sub!riize #cw: omegaverse #cw: a/b/o #wonbin smut #park wonbin smut

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haztory · 2 months

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my brain rumbles with johnny mactavish a/b/o thoughts

medically discharged alpha johnny with an overgrown beard who relocates to a farm in the highlands in frustration, angry that he’s physically inept now, bullet to the head ruining some of his motor functions, fucks with his memory.

and you, the omega who moved into the abandoned neighboring farmhouse a few weeks ago, stopping by to introduce yourself— asking him if he has any tips on fixing the barbed fencing around your property.

and yeah, his hands shake in uncoordinated movements these days, and he has a hard time judging distance and picking out the right words— but there’s a deep ache in him that he can’t forget.

and he knows of it as clear as he breathes, damaged brain all but likened to a discussion about the weather.

he remembers the sweetness of an omega on his tongue, and you’re right in front of him.

#help!!!!!!#my pussy is aching!!!!!#johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #cw: omegaverse #cw: a/b/o

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desires-of-chain · 3 months

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🐺))

Question: how many omegas can cuddle pile dynamicless reader?

Question: does the alphas cuddle or hold dynamicless reader?

Imagine

Dynamicless reader is gentle putting wind to bed since the group have a rough few weeks of being ambushed by monsters and wind wanted to sleep since hes tired. Dynamicless reader lullaby wind to sleep while gentle petting his hair as wind sleep cuddle reader but the omegas join in on the cuddle pile to sleep while cover in Dynamicless reader scent purring nonstop.

Reader shake their head to being stuck in the cuddle pile and couldn't move til reader hear the alphas and turn their head to the door to see them watching.

Dynamicless reader: hey guys, I'm stuck.

Warrior: we can see that.

Time: need a hand to get out?

Twilight: you'll make a excellent mother/father-

The alphas and reader look to twilight when he spoken, reader face is red from blushing. While the alphas secretly agree on that.

Oh, the omegas like to cuddle a lot especially with the other since it's a comfort and there is about 3 omegas within the group. If dynamicless reader had been there for about- hmm, let's say a month or so by now, then yeah, they will be incorporated into the cuddle pile.

The alphas? They do join in on it unless the alphas have something to do then they apologize and reject the cuddle pile for now.

But also they know they cannot save reader from the pile asdjfkdsaf once you're in there, you're gon be in there for a while. There's no way of leaving the cuddle pile without the omegas whining and giving you puppy eyes.

#.bea answers #🐺 anon #cw: a/b/o #cw: omegaverse

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infernaleikon · 11 months

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ahsoka gets these for omega anakin, kinda as a joke but also not really, after anakin has repeatedly snarled at & brawled with alphas who thought they could get a bit too friendly with him. there has been biting (the unsexy kind) involved, with anakin ready to gauge eyes out.

enough alphas have backed off him afterwards thinking an omega like this isn't worth the trouble. and somehow, obi-wan and anakin have never been around each other whenever anakin has been in heat.

until one day during one of anakin's heats, they meet up for a campaign, and obi-wan finds anakin on the bridge of the resolute. and the alpha presenceso close puts anakin so on edge that he almost jumps obi-wan, too. that is, of course, only until he realizes it's 𝘰𝘣𝘪-𝘸𝘢𝘯

turns out obi-wan's the only one who can safely pet anakin's ass anytime (esp when he's in heat) & not lose any fingers ("it was only the tip of his finger, ahsoka, and it was only once!!"). actually, obi-wan is v much encouraged to touch that ass when it's in heat 😏

#obikin #cw: a/b/o #copied this over from twitter #had this wild thought and needed to get it out #listen if anakin was an omega he'd be just as unhinged if not more than he usually is #i do not buy any other version of that tbh

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firein-thesky · 3 months

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thank you for the tags @yinyuedijun and @lorelune !! this looks so fun hehe

Rules: Pick a bunch of your WIPs and summarize them as badly as possible, then ask your followers to vote on which one they'd be most likely to read. Multiple/all/none options are completely optional.

crazy i have so many different vampire wips. they’re all for different characters.

i am gonna tag @elusivemoon @seiwas @isaut @suguwu + anyone else who wants to do this!!

#cw: a/b/o #this was a fun distraction from work lol #cielo polls!

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rush-the-stars · 1 month

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Cielo let us talk about geto. Anything. Speaking whatever you have in mind 🔊have to hear you speak about him 😔✋️get back to me </3

anon jfksjakajska

getou. what to say about that man.

lately what’s been on my mind is alpha getou bc that’s what i’m working on for lore’s collab event. i am so close to finishing………

it’s sorta hard to explain but it is just getou being manipulative x20 bc now he can like. manipulate you on a biological level LMAO like with scent and instincts etc.

like not just a mental one anymore!!

it’s just me and coming up with even more unique ways for getou to be wretched

bc i don’t have a lot to say, take a snippet of this fic!

#sorry anon no thots head empty!#i hope you enjoy!!#cw: a/b/o #cielo chats!

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piratefishmama · 11 months

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Nest

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

Contrary to popular belief, Alpha heartthrob of Hawkins High Steve Harrington never managed to find himself a suitable mate. He tried, he tried multiple times with many different omegas, tried with Betas, hell he even tried with another Alpha! However, he never lived up to their expectations, he was never what they expected or hoped for, those he tried to court always eventually told him he was too soft.

He lacked the aggression, the ‘slam you against a wall and take you’ kind of rough edges a typical Alpha would have that made the act thrilling for his partner, that created that kind of primal need to submit that they desperately longed for.

He lacked the primordial Alpha need to take, to claim. Some even claimed he ought to have been born an Omega, that the Alpha didn’t suit him, that somehow he’d been born wrong, that his secondary gender didn’t fit him, it wasn’t right.

He was too soft, too affectionate, too clingy too— too much.

Everything about him was bullshit.

Nancy, his one attempt at a relationship with another Alpha, had been drunk when she’d said that to his face, and she didn’t actually remember saying it the day after, but… it still stuck with him years after it’d happened. Years after they’d become friends, years after she’d settled into a Poly relationship with a sweet, if a little awkward omega, Jonathan and his ridiculous (read: weirdly charming, Steve loved him) Beta mate, Argyle.

So he didn’t have a mate. No big deal, it wasn’t like he longed for one or anything, it definitely not like that at all. It wasn’t like he wanted a big family, to be loved, to be wanted, to be welcomed into a nest made of a mixture of his and his mates clothes, his and his mates blankets and pillows and—it was fine. He was fine.

He wasn’t fine, but within that failure, came opportunity. Alphas came in all shapes, sizes, and thankfully, as much as people liked to doubt, temperaments, which given how soft he as an alpha was, made him perfect for Nest. A clinic for unmated Omegas who struggled with their heats, Omegas who had nowhere to turn, no-one to help them through the worst week of the month.

An alpha helped. Even if he didn’t touch them, and usually he didn’t, having an alpha there, their pheromones permeating the room, just existing in their space, sometimes it was enough to help ease the pain of having no-one to fulfil the other needs.

He wasn’t allowed to touch them intimately, it wasn’t a sex thing, it was a comfort thing. A thing some Omegas needed, especially if they’d never had an alpha with them before.

Sometimes, never having one was worse than having one once and never again. You craved something with no frame of reference for why or how to recreate it, you’d go mad going in circles trying to figure out why this part of you needed something so badly despite never having had it.

It could get bad. Some went mad over it. Hence the Clinics.

Hawkins had one. Singular. Just one. It was linked up to the hospital, deeply underfunded and regularly had protesters outside claiming the alphas inside to be sex workers.

Blatant ignorance at work there, but Steve stopped caring about his public image before he’d even left school so on each shift he’d walk through the throng of idiots, with his head held high, greet his best friend Robin at the front desk, a quirky Beta with zero brain to mouth filter and the gift of gab.

She probably wouldn’t call it a gift, but Steve adored her. Had a bit of a crush on her at first, quickly replaced by platonic love after she’d drunkenly came out to him in a public restroom at a Christmas party.

She liked women. Omega women to be specific. He’d never asked her to elaborate on why not male Omegas, she had a type, that was that.

Steve liked both, he liked all. Steve wasn’t fussed, Omega, Beta, Alpha, male or female? It didn’t matter to him, he’d tried all in his search for a mate that’d stay and found himself enjoying all.

He just needed one to stay.

He’d walk in, greet Robin, if he didn’t have an Omega already, he’d grab a clipboard with his new assignment on it and head straight there. It was one of those days.

His last Omega, an awkward little thing that Steve sort of recognised from high school, he’d been a freshman during Steve’s last year, had left the night before, content and at ease, had spent most of the coherent hours talking Steve’s ear off about a table top RPG game he played with friends, Dungeons and Dragons.

Steve didn’t mind, he asked questions, let him bounce character ideas off of him, helped him pick a race out of a mix of words Steve didn’t really recognise but it made the Omega, Gareth, happy.

They came up with Galgrun the Giant together. A Dwarf with a height complex and a really big hammer.

He liked Gareth. Gareth was sweet, soft, bit too young though. Reminded Steve of the gaggle of kids Nancy’s little brother would hang around.

His new assignment was older.

Older than himself by one year, which… wasn’t unusual but it definitely wasn’t a normal occurrence either. Usually the Omegas that used the facility were younger, younger and in desperate need of comfort.

“They’ve put him in room 69, he found that hilarious.” Robin chirped when Steve looked up from his clipboard. Another him. Not that that was a bad thing, sometimes they alternated. “He’s a little… jumpy, very nervous, I could smell him a mile away and you know what my sense of smell is like.” Most first timers were, he checked out the clipboard again, no previous alpha, no sexual history, no… nothing.

For an omega older than himself to have zero experience in intimacy with an alpha, even the soft non-sexual kind? No wonder he was jumpy. “Alright, says here he came from a referral?”

“Yeah, GP basically threw him at us after he turned violent during his last heat an damn near mauled his uncle, he mentioned Gareth when he came in, that’s why they gave him to you.” Not just because he was one of the best Alphas there, but because Gareth had said nice things, the omega had asked for him. “Go get him tiger.”

Part 2

#PirateWrites #Steddie #CW: A/B/O #No Upside Down AU #Omegaverse #Omega!Eddie Munson #Alpha!Steve Harrington #NestFiclet

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