Chapter Text
It was funny just how quickly everything could fall apart.
Hilarious even.
"It's nothing personal," he said with a fake smile, as if trampling all over your heart was a casual affair. "It's just... well, I always wanted a family some day..."
It wasn't the words that hurt, it was what he didn't say. Rick wanted a family, just not with you. He didn't have the balls to say the quiet part out loud; he didn't want to have kids with you because they would likely turn out to be omegas.
A year and a half ago, it wouldn't have bothered you. You would have shook his hand and wished him all the best — it wasn't like you didn't have a firsthand understanding of just how fucking difficult it was being an omega, after all. But he had taken up eighteen months of your life, happy to share your bed, your heats, without so much of a word about the future beyond the next day.
He'd let you get invested, let you believe that your relationship was going somewhere.
The beta hadn't cared about your designation when it had meant getting laid almost every single night and paid time off work every month to help with your heats.
Clearly, he'd realised that the clock was ticking and he either needed to commit to you for the family he wanted, or find someone else.
But, asshole that he was, he'd decided to do it in the middle of a night club.
On your birthday.
And you — stupid, stupid you — had let yourself hope that his recent awkwardness around you had been because he was planning on making things official and offering to claim you.
So, to say you were upset was an understatement.
Fucking livid was closer to the mark.
"Are you even listening to me?" He had the audacity to snap at you, pulling you from thoughts of murder.
You stared, almost lost for words — how did he think that he was the injured party in this?
The urge to lash out started to grow inside you, the urge to slam your first into his stupid face. But you didn't. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of behaving like the overly emotional omega he always claimed you were whenever you argued. If this was the end, you were going to end things with dignity, keeping your head held high.
"Yes, I'm listening," you snapped back. "I'm waiting for the part where you explain why you decided to wait until now to tell me."
It was cruel and, while Rick was a lot of things, he was rarely ever cruel.
He let out a slow breath. "Because I didn't want you to hear it from someone else..."
"Hear what?" Had you missed something?
"Cindy is pregnant."
Why did it matter that Cindy was...
Oh. It took an embarrassingly long moment for the penny to drop. But when it did, any and all thoughts of remaining dignified abandoned you.
"You were cheating on me?" You seethed.
"I wouldn't call it cheating. What we had was fun, but we both knew it was never going to —"
You didn't wait for him to finish before walking away. He called after but made no attempt to follow you. At least, not until he saw where you were headed.
You crossed the dancefloor, heading back to where your so-called friends were sitting, all oblivious to what had just happened. Cindy was smiling over her drink, looking so fucking smug. You'd never been close to her, or any of Rick's friends really, but you'd always made an effort to try and be nice to them.
And you, idiot that you were, had allowed yourself to believe that the betas had accepted you, that they saw you as one of their own.
Next thing you knew, there was a glass in your hand and Cindy was wearing your strawberry daiquiri. The sight of her blonde hair and white dress stained red filled you with a sweet sense of revenge. It took a moment for everyone to catch up and realise what you'd done — all while everyone shifted away from Cindy and the spreading liquid.
"You little omega bitch," Cindy spat, climbing to her feet.
"Beta skank," you retorted.
She stepped forward and you balled your fist, ready to throw a punch, but before you could swing, you were lifted off the ground.
Rick pulled you away, while everyone else rushed to comfort poor Cindy.
You kicked and thrashed as he half-pulled, half-carried you across the club, not letting go until you were in a secluded corner by the bathrooms. The second you were on your feet again, you swung for him, slapping him hard across the face. It caught him off guard and sent him reeling to the side, but he was ready when you went to hit him again.
He caught your wrist and twisted it, forcing your back against the wall.
"I get that you're pissed," he said through gritted teeth, easily holding you in place as you struggled, "but I can talk to Cindy, tell her that you still need me. I can still be there — y'know, for heats and shit, just until —"
The nerve, the fucking audacity of him had you driving your knee into his crotch, making it so it would be a very long time before he'd even be able to think about sex again.
He let go, staggering back as rage spread across his face.
"You little fucking —" his hand rose and you shrank back, bracing for a hit that never came.
Before he'd even started to swing, he was tugged backwards with such a force he almost fell over. He managed to recover but, instead of going for you again, he turned to throw a punch at whoever had grabbed him.
A second later, Rick was on the ground, blood pouring from his nose.
You dared to look at your saviour; blonde, tall, athletic, and —
Oh, he was an alpha.
Rick had no idea. His muted beta senses couldn't pick up the signs like your omega sense could. So, he got back up, thinking he stood a chance at winning a fight.
He didn't.
He took another swing and found himself on his ass again, a pained oof escaping him as he hit the floor. His eyes met yours, and you couldn't tell if he was expecting you to step in and save him, or pleading with you to help. After what he'd done, he was getting nothing from you.
"Get him out of here, Buck," the alpha said. You realised that he wasn't alone when another alpha stepped around him. "And make sure he doesn't come back."
"With pleasure." While the first alpha had the looks of an Abercrombie and Fitch model, the second had a dangerous air about him that made your legs feel weak. His eyes caught yours and your heart stuttered. Then he was gone, dragging Rick across the floor by the collar.
You sagged back against the wall, the adrenaline draining from your body and leaving you feeling exhausted. You were alone. Completely and utterly alone. In the space of five minutes, your entire life had fallen apart.
"Hey, are you okay?" He said, reminding you that the alpha was still there.
He stepped closer and you realised how pathetic you must have looked, slumped against the wall like a frightened animal.
"Yeah, I, uh..."
You finally looked at him. Really looked. Alpha through and through, beautiful in a way that had you blinking, thinking it was your omega sense playing a trick. A shuddering breath escaped you as his scent reached you; an earthy smell that reminded you of a forest after the rain.
Your omega stirred inside you — it had been so long since you'd last been around an alpha, and your instinctual desire left your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Something in the way he looked at you had you wondering if you were the first omega he'd seen in a while. After all, omegas were even rarer than alphas in places like New York.
All it took was a sniff from him to confirm it. He knew what you were.
It should have scared you, knowing how easily an alpha could turn your biology against you, knowing how their urges could be almost as uncontrollable as yours at times. But it didn't.
A shiver ran up your spine as his expression softened.
"There's no need to be afraid. No one is going to hurt you here," he said, offering you his hand. "Come with me."
Your response was instinctual and automatic, slotting your hand into his. The contact was enough to have heat sparking in your belly, though you tried to ignore it.
His fingers wrapped around yours, grip firm but loose, giving you the illusion that you could escape him if you wanted to. Though, rationally, you knew you stood no chance at outrunning an alpha.
People stepped aside for him as he led you across the club, eyes widening at the sight of him. Betas, all of them — they had no idea that he was an alpha, but they could all see the gorgeous specimen of a man as he passed them.
A familiar face caught your attention. Cindy gaped at you and the man holding your hand, her dress stained despite her best attempts to dry it.
"Friend of yours?" The alpha asked.
"No, she just ruined my life."
"We'll see about that," he said, giving a subtle smile.
He led you beyond the velvet rope that separated the VIP area from the main club, the bouncer instantly stepping aside for him. You thought you heard someone call him sir, but you were too busy taking in the clean and much quieter area, away from the bustle of the dance floor.
His hand slipped from yours as you reached a booth and pressed gently on your lower back, urging you to sit. the hand trailed from your back to your waist as you followed his silent command, skin heating beneath his touch.
Was it shock or some innate desire that had you following him without question? Were you thinking clearly, or was your hindbrain in the driving seat?
You were almost disappointed when he slid into the booth opposite you instead of sitting next to you. And, while there were other people in the VIP area, your every sense was trained on him. It was almost overwhelming — his proximity, the way your emotions were still running rampant — and you'd never felt anything like it.
(He saved you, the alpha protected you, he’s big and strong, everything we want, everything we needed —)
Shaking your head, you tried to silence your hindbrain.
Without a word, three glasses were placed on the table, along with a bottle of whisky. He must have given some sign to the bartender, because he hadn't uttered a word.
He filled two glasses, then slid one to you.
"It'll help settle your nerves," he said.
Your hand trembled as you reached for the glass, eyes still fixed on him. It should have worried you how your every thought was him; his approving gaze as you knocked back the drink, his scent, his smile, and the way his throat bobbed when he drained his own glass.
The whisky burned its way down your throat, causing the heat that was building low in your belly to intensify. Realistically, you knew it was just biology but, honestly? You were more than happy to go with it after the night you'd had.
That was why you didn't say anything or try to stop him when he refilled your glass.
"I'm Steve," he said.
You'd been so caught up in everything that you hadn't even thought about his name. You quickly offered your name in a low, timid voice.
There was silence for a moment, like he was waiting for you to continue, to address the elephant in the room.
"You're — you're an alpha."
"I am," he said, not bothering to point out the obvious about your biology.
Despite already knowing it, his confirmation set your hindbrain buzzing and had the purely omega part of you desperate to be let out. And you almost let it, but it was dangerous to give in to that side of your nature, no matter how sweetly it begged.
You took another drink, scrunching your nose as the alcohol burned its way down your throat again.
"Want to talk about it?" Steve offered.
The question alone was enough to send you into a tailspin — you'd done nothing wrong, but you still felt ashamed, like you should have done more to keep Rick faithful. As an omega, you weren't meant to be alone and it felt like a failing to still be single at your age.
Your gaze dropped to the table.
"Was that guy your boyfriend?" He continued.
"He was," you said. Steve stayed quiet, letting you decide if you wanted to elaborate. "I just found out he's been cheating on me and she's pregnant."
He blew out his cheeks and shook his head. "He sounds like a real idiot to me, sweetheart. You're better off without him."
Sweetheart? Your omega preened.
"How long were you together?"
"About a year and a half," you said, taking another drink. "He said he wanted a family, just not with me..."
"Because you're an omega?"
"Yeah — not that he cared about my designation when it meant getting laid every night." The second you realised what you'd said, your cheeks grew hotter. Maybe you'd had enough to drink.
"Don't worry, I'm sure it won't take him long to realise he made a mistake letting you go."
You smiled, and it was strange because you couldn't remember the last time you'd just smiled at anything. Hell, you couldn't even remember the last time anyone had been genuinely nice to you without some ulterior motive.
You reached for your glass again and took another drink, trying to drown the realisation that you couldn't remember the last time you'd actually been happy.
"I don't know why he had to wait to tell me on my birthday though..." you said, not able to hold it in.
"It's your birthday?" He asked, annoyance lacing his tone.
You nodded.
"In that case, we need to celebrate."
He refilled your glass again, sparking a longing ache inside of you — you wanted him to look after you, to take care of you. You wanted to belong and be kept.
No — no, that wasn't what you wanted.
That was the alcohol and your hindbrain talking.
Only...
Even if you didn't want any of that, you needed it. So much of your life had been tied up in Rick and the future you thought you'd have. He'd helped support you financially, and all of your stuff was still at his place...
"Happy birthday," Steve said, pulling you back to the moment as he raised his glass in toast.
You raised your glass in response, then took a slow drink, eyes dropping again.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just..." you fell silent for a few seconds, "I don't know. I just thought by the time I got to this age that things would be different."
"How did you think it was going to be?" He sat back, giving you space to think.
"I thought I'd at least have a steady job, or some money saved..."
"You don't have a job?"
You shook your head. "I work freelance mostly, but it doesn't exactly pay well," you explained. "It's hard getting steady work when I can only work three weeks a month."
He gave an understanding nod. While alpha's didn't have to suffer monthly because of their designation, every three or so months, their ruts would hit and their primal instincts would take control for a week.
Just the thought of Steve rutting had you shifting in your seat, blood running hot. You'd never been with an alpha, let alone one in rut. Your mouth went dry as you pictured it; him on top of you, behind you, inside you. You forced yourself to drain your glass just to take your mind off of it, but the buzz of alcohol was already dulling your inhibitions, making you want.
The problem with Rick was that he'd always encouraged these moments — though, admittedly, the beta had never affected you quite as much as Steve was managing to — he'd always been more than happy to end a night out or pull you into a bathroom if it meant getting his dick wet. Your heart fluttered every time Steve looked at you, sparking a visceral reaction in your body. That he was listening to you, showing an interest, made you feel seen in a way that you hadn't since you'd first started dating Rick.
He asked you a few questions about your work and you explained that you were an artist, but you mostly did graphic design because it paid better. Sometimes you'd do commission, things like portraits and paintings of people's pets, but it was mostly things like corporate logos that paid the bills.
Steven seemed interested — more interested than Rick had ever been — and kept asking you questions. Where were you from? A little town in Ohio. What brought you to New York? You wanted a change of scenery. Did you come to the club a lot? Yes, but only when Rick wanted to.
"We don't get many omegas in here," Steve said. You gave him a questioning look. "I — we — own the place."
"You own the club?" It shouldn't have surprised you, alpha's tended to be successful.
"This one and a couple of others across the city," he shrugged.
We. You wanted to ask what he'd meant by that but before you could find the words, someone slid into the booth beside you.
"He's been dealt with," the dark haired alpha said.
He pulled a cloth from his jacket and proceeded to wipe blood off his gloves. It should have unsettled you, terrified you even — what the fuck had he done to Rick? — instead more heat licked through your body, this time settling at your core. Steve's scent had been intoxicating enough, now that you had to contend with two alphas you felt like you were drowning and all you wanted to do was take a deep breath.
You were so used to being around betas that you didn't realise your own scent was betraying you until Bucky looked your way, his cold blue eyes narrowing as he took the smallest sniff. But you couldn't help it, couldn't control it. The whisky certainly wasn't helping. Smothered by two very distinct alpha scents, your hindbrain got bolder and harder to ignore.
(Imagine being between them, letting them hold you, touch you, fuck you, the voice in the back of your head said. She was really starting to get out of control.)
"This is Bucky," Steve said, introducing his friend either missing or ignoring how your breathing had turned shallow.
When he introduced you to Bucky, you managed a smile.
"Did her friend give you any trouble?" Steve asked.
"No, but I made sure he won't come back. And I had a nice long chat about him raising his hand to women," Bucky said, filling himself a glass and shooting you a glance. "He won't bother you again."
Your brain practically misfired; half an hour ago you'd found out that your boyfriend was cheating on you, now you had two alpha's protecting you.
The thoughts in your head got louder and louder, your omega half wanting to throw herself at the alpha's. It was pathetic, but clearly you weren't above being a little pathetic when you were drunk and heartbroken.
"Keep her company for a minute. I need to go see Sam about something," Steve said, pulling you back to the moment. He slid out of the booth, and left you alone with Bucky.
For all of a second, you dared to hope that it would be easier to focus with only one alpha, but if anything it was harder. His scent was stronger, almost overpowering — probably because he was sitting closer. Burning wood and roasted coffee, strong, dark scents that made you tremble in anticipation. Though what you were anticipating, you couldn't quite say.
"He's not gonna keep you," Bucky said the moment Steve left the VIP area.
"What?"
"Steve. He likes to play the hero, but if you're looking for an alpha to claim you, it won't be him."
You didn't think he was saying it to be cruel, but it felt cruel. It made something in the back of your mind itch, and you wanted nothing more than to scratch it out.
"Are the two of you..." you left the question unfinished, knowing he'd be able to fill in the blanks. Steve had said we earlier, maybe that meant that he and Bucky were bonded or even mates. It wasn't entirely unheard of for two alpha's to mate.
"We're a pack."
Oh, that made sense. They had a pack bond — not quite the same as a romantic bond or a mating bond, but close enough.
"I don't want anything from him," you said, forcing yourself to keep your head up high.
Bucky smirked, his eyes running up and down your body. "You think I can't smell what you want?"
Squirming, you backed away from him, forcing yourself into the corner of the booth. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He didn't let you put any space between you, he slid closer, boxing you in. When he draped an arm across the back of the booth, your heart almost stopped. He leaned in close, that dangerous scent threatening to swallow you whole. "I can smell how wet you are."
You should have been disgusted. You should have pushed him away — especially as he tangled his fingers in your hair — but you didn't. There was just... something about him that held you in place. Even as he leaned closer, the tip of his nose grazed your throat, your mating gland.
A whimper slipped from your lips and he pulled away, a triumphant grin on his lips. "Typical omega."
"What —" the moment had left you too dazed to summon the ire you knew you should have been feeling, "— what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Me? I'm not the one getting hot and bothered over someone I only just met."
"That's — I'm not." Where had the fight gone you'd had not an hour ago when you slapped Rick? Why were you letting this prick talk to you like that? Letting him nuzzle at your mating gland?
And why the fuck was your hindbrain desperate for you to press yourself closer to him?
"When he takes you to bed tonight, just remember that you'll be out in the morning."
You opened your mouth to respond just as Steve slid back into the booth.
"You two playing nice?" He asked, smiling at just how close Bucky was to you.
Bucky pulled away instantly. "I'll go check everything's okay in the office. Let me know when you want to leave."
He barely gave you a second glance as he knocked back his drink and stepped out of the booth. But you watched him and you hated yourself for it, almost as much as you hated how right he'd been. You were wet and, despite his warning about Steve, part of you was eager to offer yourself up to the alpha.
And if Bucky could read you that easily, you were pretty certain that Steve knew too.
"Don't mind him, he's a miserable old man." Steve said.
"I should go," you said abruptly, deciding that nothing good was going to come of any of this.
"What did he say to you?" He sounded almost resigned to the fact that Bucky must have said something terrible.
But, as uncomfortable as the interaction had been, you didn't want to cause drama in someone else's pack. "Nothing. Really. It's just getting late and I need to figure out where I'm staying tonight and —"
You fell silent with the awful realisation that you had no idea where your purse was. Where your phone was.
"What's wrong?"
"I left my purse with Rick's friends — everything was in there, my phone, my credit card..." your panic was palpable and a brief flicker of worry on Steve's face was enough to tell you he could smell it.
You made to slide out of the booth, but stopped when his hand covered yours. For a second your worry and panic just vanished, and all you could think about was how soft and warm his hand was.
Words failed as you looked at him, but he didn't need you to say anything. He gave a wave of his hand, drawing the bouncer to the table and quickly explained the situation. The big man nodded before heading out into the club proper to try and find you things. While you didn't think Rick or his friends would steal from you, they were no longer under any obligation to make sure no one else did.
"It's okay," Steve said, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.
(The alpha is taking care of us, protecting us, comforting us... we should let him have us, your hindbrain whined.)
"Everything's fallen apart," you murmured, ignoring the voice telling you to throw yourself at him. "I've got no money, nowhere to go..."
"Don't worry about any of that. I'll make sure you're okay."
His thumb continued its tender caress and what little remained of your common sense started to slip away. So much so that your free hand drifted back to your glass and raised it to your lips.
"He said you won't keep me," you confessed, looking first at Steve's face, then his hand on yours. "Your friend. He said if you take me home, you won't keep me."
"Do you want to be kept?" He asked, thumb never stilling.
(YES.)
"N-no," you answered, all too aware of the spike in your arousal. "I don't want to be kept, I just want... I want to feel like I matter..."
It should have been harder to admit considering he was practically a stranger, but the alcohol mixed with the intoxicating scent of alpha had rendered you needy, making you want. By this point in the evening, you would have already fucked Rick and he would have done his best to sate your urges, instead you were sitting across from an alpha and contending with a longing ache between your thighs.
"I could make you feel like you matter," he said, voice turning low and deep.
"You... you could?"
He nodded. "I know exactly what an omega like you needs."
That was good because you had absolutely no idea what an omega like you needed.
The bouncer returned, explaining that your purse was nowhere to be found and that your 'friends' had left, but you were too caught up in what Steve had said and the promise that lurked beneath his words.
"Stay with me tonight while I track down your things." It wasn't an offer or a suggestion, more a command.
You nodded before even taking a second to think about it, but what else were you going to do? All of your so-called friends were really Rick's friends and, without your credit card, you wouldn't be able to stay at a hotel. The only other option was crawling back to Rick, and it would be a cold day in hell before you allowed yourself to do that.
No, an alpha wanted to care for you and your biology made it impossible to refuse.
His hand took hold of yours again and, without a word, he helped you from the booth. Your legs trembled beneath you and you couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or what you were about to do. You stumbled and found yourself against his chest, an arm protectively wrapped around your waist.
"Easy there," he said softly.
(So strong, so protective... we can make him want to keep us...)
The heat that had been building inside you over the last couple of hours reached a fever pitch, every fibre of your being thrumming with an aching want that you'd never experienced before. It took every ounce of your frayed self-control to pull yourself away from him, instead of lingering and breathing in his scent.
You were a mess of urges and barely coherent thoughts as he led you out the back of the club to where a black SUV was parked.
Bucky was waiting by the car and shook his head when he saw you.
"Don't say I didn't warn you, doll," he muttered as he opened the back door.
"Leave it, Buck. She knows what she wants," Steve said, helping you into the car. You missed whatever Bucky grumbled in response.
Steve got into the car beside you, draping an arm around you and pulling you into his side. As Bucky got in and started the car, Steve nuzzled at your neck, lips and the tip of his nose grazing your gland.
You had to bite your lip to keep from whimpering, acutely aware the Bucky was right there.
"Don't worry about him, sweetheart," Steve murmured. "He doesn't care what we get up to back here."
His hand found your thigh and your hindbrain went into overdrive, wanting you to beg and plead for his touch. All rational thought abandoned you. If he'd dared to shift his hand higher, you would have let him — hell, you would have parted your legs for him. The needy ache between your thighs turned into a pulsing want, and when you heard Steve inhale, you knew he could smell your arousal.
"You really need this, don't you?" He said, still keeping his voice low — though, if you'd been thinking clearly, you would have known that Bucky could hear every word.
You nodded, angling your head to give him better access to your neck and slipping a little further into a state of mindless omega lust.
"You know... we could smell you the moment you got to the club," he continued, "but when we saw you with that beta, we assumed you were spoken for. If I’d known what he was like, I would’ve rescued you hours ago..."
There were no words, no rational thoughts left.
(He wanted us... he wanted us all night, your hindbrain sang in triumph.)
It was a short drive — at least, it felt short, but your grip on reality was tenuous at best while he was nuzzling at your neck — and the car was soon stopped in front of a large house, gated off from the rest of the world. You had no idea where you were, but you didn't care. All you cared about was Steve and the way he was leading you into his home.
(Alpha, alpha, alpha, the voice in your head chanted.)
The further you got into the house, the harder it became to ignore the scent of his arousal. It was suffocating. Every breath you took was him. You'd never experienced anything like it, beta scents were too muted, too bland to cause so visceral a reaction in you. Your own scent was out of control and long forgotten, but you didn't care about hiding it anymore. You wanted him.
A door clicked shut behind you, sealing you in a dimly lit room and, finally, his lips found yours.
He pressed you back against the door, caging you in with his body, devouring you with his kiss. You let slip a desperate whine, a purely omega sound that betrayed every ounce of your longing. Your knuckles ached and you realised that you were gripping his shirt, eagerly holding him in the kiss, as if you thought he might slip away from you.
"Are you sure you want this?" He asked.
"Yes."
He took a shuddered breath. "I won't keep you."
It should have stung, should have made you reconsider, but you were too far gone, fighting a losing battle against your hindbrain and your omega. Besides, you had needs and, even if it was only one night, you already knew he'd know exactly how to satisfy you.
(We can make him keep us, the voice in your head said again.)
"I know."
You barely got the words out before his lips were on you again. He lifted you, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning wildly as his hips pressed to yours and you felt the hard outline of his cock between your thighs.
"I can smell how wet you are," he groaned, grinding against you.
Your mind flashed back to the club, to Bucky, to the way it had felt as his nose grazed your gland, and you moaned again. Fuck — why were you thinking about that asshole while Steve had you in his arms? And why did you wonder what it’d feel like to be in his arms?
"Have you ever been with an alpha?"
"N-no," you answered, stammering as his hips shifted again.
A low sound vibrated from the back of his throat, a possessive alpha sound that made you tremble in his arms.
"Once you have an alpha, you'll never be satisfied with a beta again."
You were sure his words were meant as a warning, to let you know that you were about to cross a line, but you didn't care. He'd made you feel more in the last two hours than Rick had made you feel in eighteen months, and you needed it. You needed one night where life felt good.
Fingers tangled in his hair, giving a light tug, forcing him to look at you. "I know, I just... I need..."
You couldn't find the words, but he could.
"You need an alpha to take care of you?" He said and you nodded. "You want to feel like you matter — you do matter."
He turned, easily carrying you away from the door and further into the room. He placed you down beside the bed and made quick work of unzipping your dress, pushing it from your shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. Your hands started to tug at the buttons of his shirt, while Steve's hands explored the skin that he'd uncovered. You'd never been more glad of not wearing a bra.
Shrugging off his shirt, he stepped closer, forcing you backwards. The backs of your knees hit the bed and you fell back, landing with your legs splayed. An open invitation to the alpha. Through the gloom you could make out his eyes, fixed on you as he quickly stripped down to his boxers.
When he touched you again, he dragged his hand up your thigh to your panties. A sharp tug was all it took to rip them away from your body and, before you had time to think about it you felt his hot breath between your legs.
A soft but desperate keen escaped you as his fingers slipped through your slick arousal, spreading you open and bearing you to him as he —
"Oh fuck, Steve!" You cried the moment you felt his tongue on you.
Your hips jerked as his tongue ran through your folds, lapping your slick before moving to tease your throbbing clit. Nothing had ever felt so good, nothing had ever made you feel so desperate and needy. Every nerve in your body sparked with pleasure as his tongue moved, and every breath you took was him.
Fingers tangled in his hair, but when you tried to move, tried to grind yourself against his lips and tongue, he let out a low growl and pressed a hand to your stomach, pinning you down.
(Fuck, he's so dominant, submit, submit, submit, your hindbrain squealed in ecstasy.)
"Please!" You begged, not caring how loud you were being.
Every shred of restraint you possessed was officially gone, replaced entirely by your hindbrain and your omega desires. You were running on pure instinct, and that instinct said to lay back and take whatever the alpha was offering.
You came easily, your fingers tugging at his hair as you drowned in pure pleasure, desperate for more. He kept going, kept sliding the flat of his tongue against you until you were a shuddering, overstimulated mess. Already you were regretting that it would be a one night only thing.
The mattress dipped as Steve crawled up your body, lips and tongue exploring every inch of skin he came across. You gasped and whined as his teeth grazed your nipple, and — honestly? In that moment there wasn't a damned thing you wouldn't have done if he'd asked you to. He continued upwards after a few seconds, playfully nipping at your collarbone and kissing your neck before leaning over you.
Light filled the room and you couldn't suddenly see him perfectly. He'd turned on a lamp and was staring down at you with a barely restrained hunger. When he licked his lips, you realised that his chin was glistening with your slick. The delicious sight was so distracting that you didn't notice him reaching between your thighs until two fingers sank inside you.
He kissed you, swallowing the moan that tried to bubble out of you, and muffling his own groan.
His fingers moved, easily sliding in and out of your cunt, making you writhe beneath him. It wasn't enough. You needed more. You needed all of him. You wanted his cock.
"Soon," he murmured, as if he read your mind, bending and scissoring his fingers inside you. "I want to make sure you're ready. I don't want to hurt you."
At any other time you would have appreciated the sweetness of the gesture, but you were beyond sweetness. You were nothing more than a creature of pure need. He kissed you again before you could complain, a quiet display of who was in charge. And you loved it. You wanted more of it, for him to take complete control.
His thumb pressed against your clit with each plunge of his fingers and you felt that telltale tension starting to coil in your stomach again. You were going to come and then he was going to fuck you. The thought alone had your thighs trembling and you were so worked up that you almost screamed when his fingers bent inside you, teasing that special spot inside you.
The second orgasm was more intense than the first, enough that you started to purr as you moaned, your omega half wresting control from you completely.
How had you survived without the touch of an alpha for so long? How had you spent eighteen months with Rick when you could have been having something like this?
You whined as he withdrew his fingers, but your feelings of emptiness were quickly forgotten as he brought them to your lips and slipped them into your mouth. Moaning, you sucked his fingers, enjoying the taste of yourself on them. Your eyes closed, licking and sucking until he pulled his hand away.
When you looked again, he'd pulled a condom from the nightstand and was rolling it down his length. Your breath caught at the sight of him kneeling between your spread legs, his cock hard and — fuck, he was so much bigger than you were used to.
He finished with the condom and you pouted, your hindbrain sulking, wanting him to fuck you bare. It was a good thing he hadn't asked you because you probably would have begged him for it.
"Present for me, omega," he said, his voice suddenly much lower, more gravelly than before.
Oh, you realised, his alpha was finally coming out to play.
Your body shook and trembled, but you immediately did as you were told, clumsily moving to your hands and knees in front of him. It had been so long since you'd presented for anyone, but the moment you were settled, everything in your mind seemed to blank. This was where you belonged, where you were meant to be.
Your back arched as he dragged a finger down your spine and across to your hip, where he gripped you tight. The slightest nudge of his cock was all it took to have you moaning again, his hold stopping you from impaling yourself on him before he was ready. Sensitive and needy, you whined, unable to even form the words you'd need to beg him to fuck you.
But you didn't need to beg because he wanted the same thing as you.
He held you in place as he sank his cock into the waiting heat of you. The sensation had you cursing and whining and moaning, making all manner of noises that could no doubt be heard on the other side of the house. He moved slowly, almost delicately, trying to save you from any discomfort.
But any discomfort was secondary to the way your body thrummed with need, pushing you to heights you'd never experienced before. Being with an alpha was everything you'd never even realised you'd needed.
"That's it, sweetheart," he groaned, bottoming out. "That's a good omega."
It spoke to something deep and primal within you, and all you wanted to be was good for the alpha.
(Your alpha.)
No, not your alpha. Just your alpha... for the night.
He fucked you with slow, deep strokes, letting you feel every inch of him and, when you tried to move, tried to push back against him, he tightened his grip on you hips and held you in place.
It made your hindbrain sing to feel completely at his mercy, his to do with as he pleased — and he certainly seemed pleased to be fucking you. Pleasure became the only thing that mattered and every other thought vanished from your head; there was no more break up, no more Rick and Cindy, and no worries about what you'd do in the morning. There was just Steve, inside you, fucking you to heights you hadn't even known existed before tonight.
After years of betas who only wanted to use you for your libido, you finally knew what it was like to be with someone who knew how to bring you pleasure.
Your eyes rolled back and you gave in to the primal part of you, eagerly whining and moaning as he dragged his cock in and out of your cunt. He easily pushed you to another orgasm, letting out a low groan of his own as your walls fluttered and clenched around him.
When he pulled out, leaving you empty and bereft, you felt like the world was ending. You babbled and protested, every fibre of your being mourning his loss.
The two seconds it took for him to move you onto your back and slide back inside you were two of the longest seconds of your life.
Your legs wrapped around his waist as he started to move again, keeping him close, making sure he didn't pull out again. His hands gripped your hips, strong arms effortlessly pulling you into every thrust of his hips.
"Steve..." you moaned.
He fucked you until you came again, then he followed suit. You whined at the dull sensation of his cock throbbing inside you, wishing you'd begged him not to wear a condom.
When he pulled out and rolled away, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling, a strange laugh bubbling out of you.
"Something funny?" Steve asked, settling beside you.
It took you a moment to find your voice again. "I just never knew being with an alpha would be like... like that..."
(Make him keep us. He needs to keep us. We need that again. We need to belong to him.)
You were too exhausted to even try to rationalise what your hindbrain wanted, you just curled up against Steve and fell asleep.