Best Laid Plans
by TheMadKatter13
SUMMARY~After the detective's suicide, anyone with eyes could see that there was no John Watson without Sherlock Holmes. Only a rare few even realized there was a flip-side to that coin: that there was no Sherlock Holmes without John Watson. Unfortunately, Jim Moriarty is one of those rare few, and while kidnapping his blogger had drawn out out the genius so well the first time, new intel on the 'alpha' doctor has the omega criminal arranging a little bit of 'playtime' between his alpha and his bait while they wait for the not-quite-dead to arrive. CU: Post-Reichenbach omegaverse; alpha!Sherlock/omega!John.
DISCLAIMER~The rights to (BBC's) Sherlock reside with Sir ACD, Moftiss, and BBC and I receive no financial gain from the writing of this story.
AN~I'm really so sorry this chapter is late. I had written none of it by the time the last chapter was posted, and when I mentioned I wanted to spend my days off writing? Well...a lot of the stories I follow updated all at once, and a few authors I follow posted new stories, and basically I ended up with three full pages of emails of nothing but fanfiction alerts. It's been like two weeks since they flooded me and after spending my days off trying to catch up, I've still got a full page left, and another half has come in since. Also, I know where I'd like the chapter to head, but it is not working with me.
With the Utmost Care
The ride home was absolutely excruciating in almost more ways than John could really care to count. When Anthea led them out of the warehouse, it was to the same car that she usually used to kidnap him. That or another that looked exactly like it. John wouldn't be surprised by either. Sherlock's arm had remained an iron band around his waist since he'd been released from his bindings, and it didn't let up as the alpha opened the car door and nearly shoved him inside, a limpet to his back as they settled against the black leather with Sherlock plastered to his right side and curled as much around him as he could get without actually climbing in his lap. The coat against his leaking arse became uncomfortably damp almost immediately and he grimaced but remained still, knowing it would only get worse the closer he got to the true start of his heat and the more he shifted.
Anthea waited a moment before following inside, a medical mask now across her nose and mouth as she sat herself on the bench opposite them and as far away from John as the cabin would allow. If he didn't know that being around an omega in heat could cause other omegas to enter a pseudo or real heat, depending on how close their own was, then he would be surprised that Mycroft wasn't present. The fact that the British Government had sent an alpha in his stead, even if it was his closest and most trusted assistant, told John that there was a good chance that even the older Holmes was as unfamiliar with what a feral Sherlock would do as much as Sherlock himself was unfamiliar with what he would do. Which meant there was a very good chance that before John, Sherlock had never gone feral before. At this point, all he knew was that his alpha would and had killed to protect him, to keep him safe, and he had no problem with that.
Anthea for her part, remained entirely professional all the way back to Baker Street, eyes remaining on her smartphone and rear remaining on her seat. He would commend her for it later because every time there was bump in the road and she slid a little closer in their direction by no power of her own, or any time she breathed a little too deep, or if her eyes happened to flick up from her mobile, or god forbid her nostrils flared, then Sherlock would snarl at her and curl his arm tighter around John's waist or further curl his lanky self around his smaller body. After several minutes of trying not to become annoyed at such behaviour and of reminding himself that his alpha's feralness couldn't be controlled at this point, that he would only be able to come out of it after an extended time back in their nest, possibly only after his heat was over considering how the feralness was triggered, John eventually succumbed to said annoyance and huffed in irritation before shoving his right arm behind his alpha's back and his left around from the front, and dragged the alpha quite bodily into his own lap. His alpha blinked at him in (utterly adorable) surprise as hard thighs settled around his hips and bony knees dented the leather behind his waist before Sherlock grinned, more teeth than smile, eyes blown lust-wide as he rumbled approval. Most alphas would be put off, perhaps even disgusted, by an omega that could haul their own weight, that had no problem with manhandling their alphas, that had no qualms refusing demands or arguing back. Not his alpha though. Not Sherlock. His brilliant alpha only got off on it, loved having an omega that could match him in every way, a special gleam in his eye whenever John did anything so utterly un-omega-like. Apparently, that had been true before they knew that they loved each other, and it was certainly true now.
He knew of the perfect way to distract his alpha from the other alpha present, and how to help distract himself from his oncoming heat and the slick between his legs and the way he loved being surrounded by his alpha's scent-soaked Belstaff but hated the way the fabric scratched and prickled against his skin but also worse of all how far they still were from home. In front of him lay an enticing expanse of pale skin overlaying hard muscle, more muscle than had been there before, and also covered with a frightening amount of scars that hadn't been there before, some in groups, others scattered solitarily. He traced several with a soft, curious finger, frowning in confusion. Why did some of these seem familiar? With his heat making his mind slow and fuzzy, it wasn't until his hands swept around to his alpha's back that he realized the scars there were longer, more grouped, more uniform. He had felt cuts and scars before, in Afghanistan. When he had taken care of returned POWs. Torture. His alpha had been tortured.
He let out a high-pitched whine, looking up into Sherlock's eyes as he clawed at his alpha's back almost desperately with the pads of his fingers, trying to rip away the reminders of pain. The look of aroused surprised had gone sad and calm as his mate shushed him, large hands running through his hair and down his back, over and over. He whined again, a little quieter, unable to help himself, and a firm hand swept up his back to anchor itself at the back of his neck, gently easing him towards the alpha's neck and his face towards his scent gland. He remembered well his alpha's propensity for ignoring his transport, even with injuries, and so for a moment, he resisted, pushing back against the warm palm, needing to check for other injuries, needing to catalogue them all and check for any not-yet-healed or those healed incorrectly. Lips brushed his ear, a nose pressed against his hair.
"Shhh, safe, no hurt," Sherlock murmured. "Scent." John resisted for a moment longer before he stopped fighting and slumped forward, wrapping both arms around his mate as he pressed his nose and lips against the skin right over his alpha's scent gland. The last time he had smelled this scent, the scent of his alpha and his alpha's arousal this close to him, he'd been on suppressants, his sense of smell dulled, but the smell had been the most wonderful thing he'd ever smelled in his life. The memory of it had fueled more wanks than he could possibly count. Now that he had been forced off his suppressants, his sense of smell would double, perhaps triple. As his heat approached, it would slowly increase until it would double or triple again in addition to what being off his suppressants would give back to him. With his increased sense of smell and getting it straight from the source, Sherlock's scent was nearly destructive in its potency. As soon as it hit him, he moaned low in his chest, unable to stop himself from applying lips and tongue to the sweat-damp skin. In under a minute, he was completely drunk on the scent and taste of his alpha, unable to stop his hips from rolling up into his alpha's arse, whimpering at the harsh friction against such sensitive skin. There was a groan against his temple and then there were fingers unbuttoning the Belstaff and the shock blanket was being pushed up and a long, thick, wonderful cock was being thrust up against his stomach.
The vertical line of damp-tipped heat against his skin was a hot, hefty promise for the days ahead. He could feel precome smearing liberally across his belly, marking him with his alpha's scent in long streaks. The emptiness in him made itself known again at the thought so aggressively that it hurt and he whined in desperation. A fresh wave of slick gushed from him, soaking the backs of his thighs in his arousal. The coat would most definitely need to be dry-cleaned before it could be worn in public again. That is, if Sherlock didn't want to be accosted by any alpha on the street for smelling like an omega in heat.
"Five minutes out," a female voice spoke up and he jumped, startled, looking around frantically for the source before he placed it at Anthea, who he had managed to completely forget about. He blinked wildly, trying to clear his mind and the feralness that had started to creep in. To his surprise, Sherlock's only reaction to the other alpha speaking was to nod, apparently less threatened when pressed this close to his omega.
"Yes, nest close," his alpha agreed. Slowly, the man ran a hand across the tip of his own penis, smearing precome on his palm, before placing his palm flat against John's chest, over his heart, the precome a damp spot between them. Too overcome with instincts to do something so beta as 'kissing', Sherlock kept his palm firm against his sternum as he leaned in and licked his way into his omega's mouth, tongue dominating his and sweeping across gums and teeth. John was out of breath, left panting against the leather and trembling with arousal, by the time Sherlock finally leaned back, a look of intense satisfaction on his face as slow, confident fingers buttoned the Belstaff back up, covering him up from the world. His mate even went so far as to raise the collar to hide John's neck before he fixed his own coverings, tucking his erection beneath the bright orange fabric as best as he was able. Once done, Sherlock wrapped both arms around John's shoulders and then relaxed into his body in such a way that it was like he had just simply melted, every bit of his body contouring to every bit of his omega's. At such a blatant show of his alpha's trust of the environment, of his relaxation, he relaxed in turn, pulling his arms in front of him and against Sherlock's chest to curl up in his alpha's embrace. The rest of the ride was surprisingly calm as they remained curled up around each other, the only sounds in the cabin being those of their deep breaths, of the click of buttons of Anthea's phone, and of the traffic outside.
Too soon, or rather, not soon enough, the car slowed to a stop and Anthea announced their arrival with a quiet "We've arrived." Despite his rising heat, he was so comfortable under his alpha and in his embrace that any attempt at movement was like trying to move through molasses. As Sherlock shifted, moving backwards, he gave a slow roll of his hips, his erection rubbing against John's through the fabric of their coverings. The friction was wonderful after several minutes of non-movement and he loosed a low, breathy moan, rolling his hips up in return. Sherlock smirked just as lazily as he'd rolled his hips and leaned forward to nuzzle at his hairline again, purring lightly.
"Come, mate. Nest," he finally said, the lowness of his voice right by John's ear causing a shiver down the omega's spine. He nodded as the other man slid off of him and out the door Anthea had already opened the door and stepped out of, standing inobtrusively outside on the other side of the door. A hand reached back inside, and for a moment he was struck by the thin delicateness of that blood-smeared hand and the strength he knew it possessed. He shouldn't be so aroused by Sherlock murdering people, but that was really it-it wasn't that Sherlockhad murdered people, but that his alpha had killed the two men that had tortured and violated him, had protected him and avenged him. Andthat, that was an attractive thought.
"Mate?" Sherlock's voice floated into the cabin, quiet and questioning, worried, and he realized he'd been sitting there for an unknown amount of time, lost in thought over a hand. Blushing, he reached out and placed his palm in his alpha's, those long fingers curling around his and tugging lightly to pull him from the car.
"I'm sorry," he said as Sherlock pulled him back into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around the slim, bare waist. "I was...thinking." He smiled up at his mate and smiled warmly, letting his affection and lust shine through undisguised. He was pleased to feel the man still against his chest, eyes wide as if struck dumb by the sight of him. The omega in him preened at this silent confirmation of attraction and he stood on tiptoes to pass his tongue along the line of his alpha's jaw. The man blinked at him for a moment before wrapping both arms tight around his waist and lifting him bodily into his chest, growling lightly.
"Nest," he reminded the alpha breathlessly who nipped at the cloth over his neck before letting him back to his feet.
"Mr Holmes," he heard from behind them and the alpha stopped, turning to face Anthea who had moved back around the door to slide inside. For once, her eyes were actually off of her mobile and she was staring directly at his alpha. He would be more offended if he didn't know that her looking at him would only reignite his alpha's possessive rage this close to their nest with his heat this close. "Your landlady has been settled elsewhere for the duration of your omega's heat, your flat has been stocked with provisions, and congratulations on your mating. Welcome back." With that said, she ducked back into the car and closed the door. Before it had even driven away from the kerb, Sherlock had bustled him up the front steps and opened the front door, pressing him eagerly inside. He lingered on the bottom step, unwilling to go any further without his alpha close by, watching as Sherlock flicked both the door lock and the deadbolt. Once again he was struck by the sight of the man, the broad shoulders, the slim waist, the scars, the wild curly hair, the bright grey eyes, irises barely visible around the blown-out pupils, and perhaps the most important for the moment, the large bulge tenting the front of the shock blanket wrapped around his waist, and was overcome with a bone-deep fondness.
"I missed you," he whispered into the quiet air. Sherlock turned to face him, eyes scanning his face before moving down his body, taking him all in. Once his feet had been reached, those eyes moved right back up until meeting back with his before he stalked forward, like a predator after his prey, and in a move that utterly surprised him, pressed their lips together in a slow kiss that had him burning up from the inside. Pressing his hands against his alpha's chest, he melted into it, whimpering quietly when his mate pulled back.
"Missed you," Sherlock whispered back against his lips. "Clean first, then nest." Firm hands turned him around and ushered him up the stairs and into 221b. That door was locked and deadbolted as well, and as soon as it was, the shock blanket was off and the Belstaff's buttons were slid from their holes until they were both naked. Sherlock wasted no time in pressing him up against the door, hands sliding around his arse and yanking him up so that he had no choice but to wrap his legs around the pale waist. Soft lips traced along his scent gland, followed by a tongue and then teeth as the blunt head of a cock teased his hole. Within a matter of seconds, he was a whining, desperate mess as his heat began ramping up dramatically. It would be in full swing within the hour, but as it continued to approach in full, the more the scent of others on both his and his alpha's skin grew more and more disconcerting and nauseating. He whined and pushed at his alpha's shoulders, bile rising in his throat.
When he received a worried whine in return, he wrinkled his nose and whimpered "Smell. Clean." He wasn't sure if it was because of his alpha's feralness that he was speaking so simply, or if he was going feral himself. Either way, a look of understanding came across Sherlock's face and the hands around him tightened and he was pulled from the door, still wrapped around his alpha's waist as he was carried bodily into the toilet and sat on the counter. He unwrapped his legs so the shower could be started and as soon as it started steaming lightly, he hopped down before his alpha could drag him in and a frowning Sherlock followed him in.
He closed his eyes as he stepped under the stream, enjoying the warm water pelting his skin, and instantly he felt just a little cleaner. Calming hands, smelling of Sherlock's soap began scrubbing at his hair and he tilted his head back, nearly purring as firm fingers massaged his head. A moment later, the hands left his head to wash his body, leaving no spot uncleaned while paying special attention to his neck and the leaking hole between his cheeks, massaging the rim while stubbornly refusing to penetrate him before scrubbing away the slick on the backs of his thighs. As soon as his back side had been cleaned to his alpha's satisfaction, he was turned around so that his front could be washed just as thoroughly, his cock getting the same special treatment his neck and hole had received. His hips jerked when a steady hand wrapped around his cock but the touch remained frustratingly medical. Despite, or perhaps because of, the lack of sensuality behind his mate's cleansing of him, he had never felt so relaxed or so clean as he was maneuvered back under the spray, those lovely long fingers helping to rinse the soap from his hair and body. He received another slow kiss as firm arms wrapped around his waist to lift and turn him, swapping their places.
All his life, he had hid the fact that his secondgender was 'omega', but perhaps more than that, he had rarely, if ever, felt any classic omega desires to bow down to alphas or follow their commands or take care of them or anything of the like, with the sole exception being Sherlock, and even then, he had to restrain himself in fear of accidentally revealing something to the most observant man in the world. But as he opened his eyes out from under the spray, and he watched his alpha's eyes watching him from underneath the sopping fringe and the way dark curls lengthened and straightened under the weight of water, and the way water ran in pinkened rivulets down the beautiful form in front of him, he realized he no longer had to hide any part of himself. His alpha knew what he was and what he'd been doing and what had been done to him and still wanted him, still wanted to take him as his mate. If he felt an omega desire, his alpha wouldn't think him weak for partaking in whatever instinct was plaguing him. And right now, he wanted to take care of his alpha like his alpha had taken care of him.
Sherlock's bottle of wash was right behind him and he wasted no time squeezing a liberal amount into his palm and smearing it between his hands before he reached up, his alpha helpfully bending at the knees, to smear it through the dark hair he'd always wanted to run his hands through but had never before had the opportunity. He could hardly wait to do it when it had dried but for now, he delighted in running thick locks through his fingers. As he moved his hands down the firm body, he made sure to pay as much attention to the pale skin as had been paid to his own, with the same kind of special attention being paid to neck and groin as had been done to his. When his hand, looking terribly small, wrapped around Sherlock's cock, there was a low growl from above him and he looked up, smiling impishly at the hooded eyes as he leaned forward to place a light kiss right over the leaking slit. At the first taste of his alpha's precome on his tongue, his eyes fluttered shut and he sunk to his knees, unable to stop himself from reaching out with his tongue to lick at the unending flow. And now that he started, he couldn't stop.
Two years ago, in their small, temporary nest in their sitting room, he hadn't been treated to the taste of his alpha's semen. Now it was a vibrant taste like fireworks across his taste buds. The funny thing about musk and semen and pheromones wasn't that it had necessarily a defined taste like tea or biscuits or sweets did. They tasted like the person's personality and of the memories one had built between them and of their relationship together. So Sherlock didn't taste of something in particular, but he tasted of 221B and cases and running after criminals in the middle of the night and giggling at crime scenes and Chinese at three in the morning and of ducking Lestrade's reports. He tasted of home and protection and protected and fun and love. He tasted like his. He ran his hands down firm thighs and across bony hips and up a flat stomach as he suckled at the tip of Sherlock's cock, his mate trembling beneath his hands with the effort of holding himself still, to keep from thrusting his enormous cock down his small mate's throat.
John was suddenly overcome with another omega urge, but one that he had actually felt before, just not this strong: the desire to have his alpha come on him, rub his come into his skin like lotion, marking him as his alone and warning off all other alphas. He wrapped both hands around the thick cock, both thrilled and terrified that it would soon be pounding into him, knotting him to it for hours and days. The foreskin moved easily over the hardness beneath it, his grip firm as he stroked the erection firmly and quickly, speeding up his hands even as he slowly suckled the leaking tip, letting the precome slide down his throat. Sherlock was groaning now, control over his hips faltering as they began to thrust minisculely into his mouth. Long fingers fluttered at his shoulders before weaving into his hair. As they fluctuated against his skull, he could only love his alpha more for the way the grip remained light and unpainful. The erection in his mouth and below his hands hardened, the knot at the base of the cock swelling just a little but not a whole lot, which it wouldn't until it was inside him, but it still heralded the approaching orgasm.
"Mate," Sherlock groaned from above him, every line of his body tightening and John sat back just enough, closing his eyes as come spattered across his face and dripping down to his neck and chest. Ask the him of the past and he would have called the act demeaning towards the omega, a humiliating experience. But this was something he had initiated himself, taken rather than asked for or been forced into-and it was wonderful. He sat back on his heels, humming in pleasure as his tongue snaked out to bring some of the semen on his face into his mouth. Large hands framed his face, thumbs rubbing ejaculate into his skin exactly as he'd wanted, sweeping across his forehead and his cheekbones and over his nose and his lips, sliding down to rub it into his neck, the firm touch massaging his alpha's, his mate's, semen into the skin above his scent gland until he was thrusting his hips into the steaming air, whimpering at the lack of attention to his cock and his hole. There was a nip to his scent gland that made him lose all ability to use his legs before the water was being turned off and he was being hauled to his feet.
As he was dragged still-dripping from the toilet and into the bedroom, two things hit him: the first that only the smells of them and home existed in 221b, no signs of another alpha or omega or beta present even to his heightened sense; the second was that, as he was lifted up and thrown onto the mattress, his alpha standing at the foot of the bed watching him, was that his heat had finally hit in full. His skin was as hot as it had ever been, his hole as empty, his skin as hungry for another's touch, nearly, if not all, logical thought gone from his mind.
His alpha was much too far away from where he had been tossed onto the line of pillows at the head of the bed, an infinitely and impossibly long expanse of mattress between them. In what felt like a Herculean effort, he sat up and dropped forward, shifting onto his hands and knees to crawl towards his alpha. As soon as he reached him, he reached up with one hand to grasp a broad shoulder, using his new leverage to pull himself up to clasp his other hand to the other shoulder. Both hands anchored, he pulled the rest of himself up, draping his arms around his alpha's shoulders and melting into his firm chest. He whined imploringly, tilting his head to present his scent gland to his mate. Sherlock reached behind his own neck and grasped his hands, putting them to his sides before putting his hands on John's shoulders. And then he shoved. John almost flew backwards, back onto the pillows. He couldn't keep the hurt look from his face as he looked up into his alpha's neutral expression.
"Alpha?" he whimpered, confused. His alpha said nothing. and his fear of rejection grew. His mate had already broken their bond once, would he even both to bestow a new one unto him? Would he break it again if he did? He rolled onto his stomach, pulling his knees under his ribs and sticking his leaking arse into the air, presenting himself for his alpha's taking. "Mate?" Still, silence, and a sob rose in his throat and burst from his mouth in a strange, choked sound. His face felt strangely wet so he rolled his head to wipe the damp away and then he stretched out a as much as he could, exposing his scent gland, angling his hole to best entice his alpha. "Mate, please? I need you." He rolled his his hips, reaching a hand back to slide two fingers into where he felt emptiest. It didn't help. In fact, it made it worst. "So empty, alpha. Fill me. Want your knot. Want your mark." His fingers were soaking wet as he thrust in an out but it refused to help, burning away all his insides until he was nothing but a shell. "Please alpha, I'm yours. Make me yours. Need you. Need my alpha. My mate."
"Mine," his alpha snarled from behind him, and the bed dipped right before two large hands palmed his cheeks and pulled them apart, an eager tongue taking him apart from the inside out. He could only cry and fist both hands in the sheets, holding on for dear life as he was tongue fucked into oblivion, his alpha's hands keeping him frustratingly still and unable to thrust back in the beautiful piece of muscle penetrating him. But as wonderful as it felt, as much as it might get him to where he needed to be off his heat, on his heat what he needed to be hit was so much farther in than a tongue could reach, even an alpha's tongue. His squirming grew more desperate, and he snarled angrily into the pillow, unable to push back and unable to pull away.
"Mount me, alpha!" he growled, yanking the pillow out from beneath his head and swung his arm around to hit him in the head. Judging from the tongue disappearing so quickly and the muffled phwump, his aim was true and he smirked in triumph. The hands on his arse left and long fingers wrapped tight around his wrist, his makeshift weapon being pulled from his grasp but then something hit the back of his head. He looked over his shoulder in wide-eyed surprise to find his alpha sitting up on his knees, smirking back at him mischievously with the pillow still in one hand. The omega blinked for a moment before a smile slid across his own mouth and he rose up onto his knees, pressing his back to his alpha's front and tilting his head to nuzzle at the pale jaw.
"My brilliant alpha," he murmured, smiling. "'m yours. Always yours. Mount me?" Warm hands wrapped around him, sweeping across his chest and down his stomach, cupping his groin and sliding back to tease his hole. He bucked backwards against the hard cock pressed against his arse, impatient for it to be inside him. Lips pressed lightly to his scent gland and he whimpered.
"Yes. My omega. My mate," was murmured against his pulse. "Need to mark. Need to breed." This time, when he was pressed to the mattress, it was gently, one hand wrapped around his hip, the other around the opposite shoulder as his shoulders were eased back down to press into the sheets, his arse angled to his alpha's satisfaction. The lanky form he loved so much was draped across his back, the blunt head of a thick alpha cock nudging teasing his rim as a tongue contented itself with the skin of his neck over his scent gland, apparently his favourite spot though he could hardly blame his alpha for his obsession. If he were able to turn around, that's where his tongue would be on his alpha too. Before he could complain again about the too-light pressure against where he needed his alpha the most, the pressure changed, becoming charged with intent.
Right now, he hated more than anything that another alpha had penetrated him with their cock before his own alpha had had the chance. He could only take comfort in the fact that, before two years ago, he himself had been the only one to penetrate himself and that two years ago, his alpha's fingers were the first body part of any other person to be inside him. His alpha had claimed him first, and would do so again, this time properly.
Slowly, so slowly that he wanted to cy, that beautiful thick erection slowly began pressing inside him, and he couldn't stop himself from tensing, suddenly expecting to feel the fire that felt like it was going to kill him when the other alpha had tried to take him. His alpha paused, nuzzling at his neck and stroking his side and he realized that, instead of burning, the presence of his alpha's cock soothed him, filled that unfillable emptiness that had been plaguing him since he had woken. As soon as he relaxed, he received a light lick across his scent gland as the progress of his alpha's cock resumed, pressing further inside him. While it did, a low moan slipped from his throat, long and drawn out as he was filled. The stretch was so new, a different kind of ache than he'd ever experienced, but what it was, the fact that it was his alphastuffing him full of his cock, made it the most delicious ache he'd ever experienced. He tried to roll his hips back, tried to get fuller faster, but the hands on his hip and his shoulder kept him still, forcing him to accept the slow glide his alpha was subjecting him to. He huffed in irritation and tried again only to receive a reproving nip at the back of his neck.
"No. Slow. Careful. No hurt," he was told, the words soft against the curve of his ear, the timbre shooting shivers down his spine. "First time. First alpha. First heat. Careful." The possessiveness in his alpha's words made him shiver and moan again as he nodded his acquiescence, relaxing once more and allowing his alpha to do with him what he wished, trusting that he would keep him happy and safe and sated. The alpha hummed in approval as he continued to press in, redistributing himself across his omega's back now that the smaller man had settled back down against the sheets and was oscillating between quiet moans and contented humming.
FInally, slim, hard thighs pressed up against his own, a large pair of bollocks tapping against his, and his alpha stilled, fully inside him. He felt like a piece of meat on a spit-roast, skin on fire and pierced, split in half, by a steel rod. He wanted to moan, to gasp, to make some noise of pleasure or confirmation that he was all right, that he was pleased, but he so full, more complete than he'd ever been in his life, and all he could do was lay there and try to catch his breath.
"So tight. So perfect," he was complimented breathlessly against the back of his neck. "My perfect omega." A breathless moan slipped free from his lungs, more air than sound as tried to wrap his mind around the fact that his alpha, the alpha he'd chosen and who'd chosen him, was finally inside him, was filling him with the part of himself that could be used to create children, beings made from the both of them. He shuddered.
"Breed me," he gasped, undulating his spine down and then back up into the chest above him. "Alpha, my alpha. Please, fill me, breed me."
"Yessss," his alpha hissed, pulling out slowly and sliding back in just as slow. He keened and withered at the pace but was forced to stay still by firm hands. "Mine, my omega." His alpha's voice was getting lower pitched, more rumble than words and it drove hot spikes of arousal down his spine as his alpha continued his slow pace, slow pull out, slow glide in. "Mark you, breed you," he was promised with another slow thrust. Something was building at the base of his spine, something inside of him being glanced upon but not hit right on like he needed with every thrust. "Such beautiful children we'll make. Perfect children." He could see them in his head, little children with night-dark sun-bright curls, with grey eyes and blue eyes, with quiet demeanors and untameable smiles. His alpha would give him as many as he wanted. "My perfect omega. Our perfect children. Mine."
His alpha shifted and sparks lit up across his nerves and behind his eyes as something inside him was struck. Something wonderful that only his alpha could reach. And once he cried out in announcement that it had been struck, his alpha sped up, but only just a little. Just enough to still be careful but at the same time to keep hitting that same spot over and over and over until the sparks all bled into one another like the finale of a fireworks show. There was more pressure against his rim and, realizing it was his alpha's knot thickening in preparation for an orgasm, he whined and attempted to shove back on to it, wanting it more than anything, only for those stupid restricting hands on his hip and shoulder to tighten and keep him in place.
"Alpha! Please! I want your knot! Please, knot me!" he cried out, rolling his hips as best as he could, feeling his own orgasm rising. He tried reaching a hand down between his legs only to feel his wrist get caught in an iron grip. Which meant that his hip was no longer being restricted. Grinning, he shoved his hips back, feeling the enlarged, but not fully-swelled, knot pop past his rim for a glorious second of fullness that even his alpha's cock couldn't quite complete with. He moaned with pleasure and success but was quickly punished by both hands grasping both wrists only to transfer them to one. There was a ripping sound and then he couldn't move his hands anymore, stuck at the wrist, and those large hands were back to his hips, holding him still for his alpha's slow but heavy pounding.
"Careful," his alpha growled again. "Trust me." There was a snap of teeth right next to his ear, a threat, a promise for punishment should he not trust in his alpha's ability to care for him. With a whimper, he nodded and let himself go lax, twisting his hands to grab at the fabric holding them still.
"I trust you. I trust my alpha," he assured him, and there was a pause, a stillness, and then his alpha rumbled his approval and began to pump into him again, each thrust perfectly hitting that spot deep inside him that could only be reached with an alpha cock. He whimpered and whined desperately with each powerful thrust, loving and hating the slow build of pleasure. If only his alpha would touch his cock... And suddenly, he did, long fingers wrapping firmly around him and stroking in time with his thrusts. He began to cry out in earnest, crying out and begging for his alpha, for everything his alpha could give him. With his rising orgasm came another omega urge, the urge to be bitten, to be bondbitten.
"Oh alpha, faster, please! So close!" As he cried out, he tilted his neck, exposing his scent gland, presenting himself to the one he would have as mate. "Alpha, alpha, alpha, alpha!" he cried out in both pleasure and in plea. His orgasm was right there, it was so close, his alpha's cock in him and his hand around him both still slow and firm, but there was still something missing. Still something right there... He was teetering on the edge of a precipice, waiting for the tiniest gust of wind to knock him into the chasm of pleasure.
"Omega, my omega," his alpha whispered into his ear as he shoved his knot fully into him, the fleshy bit of his cock ballooning outwards, tying them together and putting a near-painful consistent pressure against his prostate. Still not quite... "I will fill you up and keep you full," he whispered, and then his alpha was coming, jets of come painting his insides like cool water after a hot day, and the omega arched his neck further, presenting, begging, and his alpha struck, teeth sinking deep into his scent gland low on his neck, marking him and finally tipping him into where he was so desperate to be, his own orgasm streaking through his body like lightning, his walls clamping down on his alpha's knot and milking another rush of semen from him. He could barely feel the teeth in his neck release his flesh or fingers pulling fabric from his wrists as the aftershocks of his orgasm continued making his body tremble, every fluctuation of his walls around his alpha's sensitive cock milking another orgasm and more semen from him.
His alpha was a heat blanket across his back as his orgasm faded, leaving him feeling both exhausted and comforted and glad that he was already on his elbows, his heat still keeping him warm and desperate for physical attention from his alpha but sated in the presence of a knot inside him. A large palm and long fingers slid across his stomach and paused low, exactly where his pregnancy would begin to show if they were were lucky enough. If they were lucky enough, they wouldn't be blessed with just one child, but a litter. Like he was in a fog, he realized his alpha was tipping them on their sides, pulling the blankets over them as he curled up behind him, settling them in for the duration of the knot. More comforting than the blankets of fabric was the blanket of alpha across his back, one arm bracing his head and the other wrapping back around his waist, hand returning to his stomach, stroking almost contemplatively as the alpha shuddered and delivered another rush of semen into him.
Soft lips nuzzled at the sore spot on his neck where his alpha had marked him for all to see, a sign of possession, of belonging. He smiled against the pillows before turning his head, angling it nuzzle against the other's jaw line, licking it lightly and renewing his pheromone-induced buzz.
"My strong alpha. My mate. My clever mate. You'll give us all the children we could want," he murmured, praising between nuzzles and licks. "So strong, so clever, so beautiful. Mine. All mine." The hands around him tightened, holding him tight and he relished in the feeling.
"Yes, my omega. My beautiful mate. Yes, always yes. Always mine." The lips at his neck moved up until they were nuzzling at his hairline at his temple, the strokes on his belly calming him further, lulling him into sleep. "Sleep. Rest. Stay healthy. More to come." He nodded, snuggling further backwards into the warmth and protection his alpha provided, wishing he could turn over to nuzzle his face but knowing he had but to wait for the knot to loosen and slip free of him. As his alpha's last command blurred his sight and fogged his mind, he gave a contented sigh and let himself fall into slumber, comforted by his alpha's presence at his back and the safety he knew his mate would and could provide his family.
Well shit bloody buggering fucking hell in a Belstaff. This was supposed to be the last chapter before the epilogue. But not only did this chapter beat me into submission and forced me to rewrite it multiple times, it also forced me into another chapter as there's no way what's left will fit this chapter the way it needs to be fit. There's shit that still needs resolved, more insecurity to be felt on both sides, more angst potential in the air, more smut to toss y'all like beads at Mardi Gras, some fluff to wrap you up and smother you in, and more awesome viewing-ship-from-another's-POV to be had. I'm again, so sorry this chapter was late and a bit short, and I'm sorry to say I won't be on schedule for the next chapter either since I have to write that whole thing still. Thank you all so much for sticking through with me as I clusterfuck my way through this new chaptered-story experience, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter regardless, and I hope to see you all within the next two weeks for the next chapter.
